tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76254973616189303012024-02-06T21:47:51.110-08:00my time in the desertKamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-33327922175983210832012-03-16T18:19:00.006-07:002012-03-17T11:26:23.961-07:00Karaoke TimeArezou and Sam are my favorite ladies. They're doing some Ice Cube and they're really good at it.<br /><br /><iframe width="460" height="264" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2KYr6T52TRs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-1820833218074352052012-03-16T18:16:00.001-07:002012-03-16T18:16:54.362-07:00A Taste of A Jesus Jam<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qPP_S40zsFI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-78106192307606249392012-03-16T18:04:00.001-07:002012-03-16T18:05:37.918-07:00Amanda and Kamala Hate On People<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/CrkqRGKwWDs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />This one is way too long, but I don't feel like editing it. We're harsh, but we also like people, that's the lesson learned.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-82649135366971027982012-03-16T16:46:00.002-07:002012-03-16T16:48:23.189-07:00Amanda and Kamala Talk Bathroom Spaces<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_IX3bCk3KMo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />You might have wished that you had been in Amsterdam with myself and Amanda. Allow me to give you a small taste of what that might have been like with this discussion about our bathroom at the Coco Mama hostel. You might change your mind about what you did or didn't miss.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-90582321464090213862012-03-16T15:42:00.002-07:002012-03-16T16:18:28.341-07:00My New GlassesI got these frames at a hip store in Paris with Amanda. We spent a long time shopping there and then I wrote a diddy about it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdY2bF5mn0GB1d-rlvoaOa_3_NWxMr5zkx76cF7mHJ02UzjQBQXB9mY8CEIvaBgY8UZri7AO5GaCq1AtXGIIu1nqlHcz3P9F7gEBXrsv9Tt9sPOywd79T5Oc5fZrlrxkvx6A4JW5scePG/s1600/Photo+on+2012-03-05+at+17.23.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdY2bF5mn0GB1d-rlvoaOa_3_NWxMr5zkx76cF7mHJ02UzjQBQXB9mY8CEIvaBgY8UZri7AO5GaCq1AtXGIIu1nqlHcz3P9F7gEBXrsv9Tt9sPOywd79T5Oc5fZrlrxkvx6A4JW5scePG/s400/Photo+on+2012-03-05+at+17.23.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720635015864678162" /></a><br /><br />The girl at the glasses store stared hard into my face, or at least this is what I imagined. The truth was that I couldn't see a thing, but had been shopping for glasses for so many years that I could easily walk around behaving like I thought a seeing version of me might. <br /><br />Her eyes were dark brown and her patterned scarf hung, bunched in exactly the right places. This I knew from memory. As I saw the light of her face turn, the shadow of eyes becoming a thoughtful dark squinch, she touched my arm, "I prefer the other."<br /><br />I put on the other frames, pretending to hold her gaze, something I've been told makes me look cross-eyed. "These?" I asked, watching the gesture, a ghost of a smile, cross her lips.<br /><br />I slipped my real glasses back on and found her beauty, in the sharp clarity of my rain speckled lenses, too much to look at directly. "I'll buy these," I said, folding the frames, averting my eyes, wondering how it might be if I only saw poorly all the time.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-53451443919464365642012-01-21T12:09:00.001-08:002012-03-16T18:41:56.523-07:00Laser Light Show<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmleNcWDJJHxvJs26wJndOybN9SsvaFKkHm0RoxertWwfDYivCk-GpfF8cIZgb5MuPnZ4olko8GC-oBJ5YKOdqnr-feoc3qM8vlbFiZliHF4dNFhSjH4iNNqCcrX0KCLpvPDooLee8a9_/s1600/IMG_0004.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDmleNcWDJJHxvJs26wJndOybN9SsvaFKkHm0RoxertWwfDYivCk-GpfF8cIZgb5MuPnZ4olko8GC-oBJ5YKOdqnr-feoc3qM8vlbFiZliHF4dNFhSjH4iNNqCcrX0KCLpvPDooLee8a9_/s400/IMG_0004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700180908524819986" /></a><br />Thanks to this blog, Auntie got me a fantastic laser light machine for Christmas! I played around a bit with it last night. I'm going to need to practice so I can figure out exactly how all the lenses, holographic settings and speeds work, but I'm looking forward to experiments. Also, it greatly enhances the already pretty lovely experience of laying in bed and listening to music. Some Phil Collins remix came on last night and it was pretty incredible, have a listen:<br /><br /><iframe width="480" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/32dsoneqPE4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-70532523802980126692011-10-01T11:41:00.000-07:002011-10-01T12:00:09.821-07:00Just A Regular Riverside Saturday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RIajCxQgDQGKGcM9KX3C-fCTo3yigt2VNJiK5FwCdlKkZW2k76kxBNwvso_Zuu804geBLQGjZimKyPJSCIiTRGA4vSoLzIR7yBUsNLYwJZZ8N_Hc5HgfsCDO3EY4ClApaGfpUWYa26nY/s1600/shot_1317493692312.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 399px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RIajCxQgDQGKGcM9KX3C-fCTo3yigt2VNJiK5FwCdlKkZW2k76kxBNwvso_Zuu804geBLQGjZimKyPJSCIiTRGA4vSoLzIR7yBUsNLYwJZZ8N_Hc5HgfsCDO3EY4ClApaGfpUWYa26nY/s400/shot_1317493692312.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658595945995281826" /></a><br />This morning I decided to walk to the farmers' market and buy some nectarines. I mostly wanted a reason to listen to the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e560V-O0ifw">new Rihanna song</a> on repeat, but this worked for that. Anyway, I got the nectarines and also these nice flowers for myself (I'm still dating myself, btw). But the best part was that I was pleasantly surprised to run into a taiko performance in the middle of the street, paired with some kind of street fair with booths featuring craft projects attached to different countries, and then the topper: as I walked through the pedestrian fountain walk area, there was a middle school aged kid set up on the side with a boombox and a sax, playing the James Bond theme song. Not well. But proudly.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-78431709572237203922011-10-01T11:25:00.000-07:002011-10-01T11:41:28.613-07:00Prof Magma No MoreI am not Professor Magma anymore. I teach intro to fiction for undergrads: real things to real people. It has been 1 week. So far so good, but it's probably because my students are very agreeable. It also consumes me so that I'm fairly anxious most of the time, usually feel behind on things and am trying to think of improvements and activities when I should perhaps be sleeping.<br /><br />On the other hand, there are some undeniable positives. It does mean that I have a cubicle for the first time since I was an intern at YBCA in 2004, which is probably a good development for my life. It also means I get to decorate it! I'll have to put up a photo soon. I was gifted a very lovely Katy Perry poster that is even faux-signed, super exciting, that I'm debating whether or not will totally obliterate whatever sense of seriousness I have fooled my students into thinking I have. And the other night, when I stepped out of said office to teach, I encountered a beautiful smoggy sunset:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1KNLsmhCio9PeHNG9RRIV0qFo7T8rimq8KCKAd0u-tZoRTtK3fQXgiNnUyxytfnAmrYMA7TstErWPICPO3zW9ZHPGBWq4s4O2FVNfM6vCXrwiS3E0mUEnmkP6om8BX-E5mEqmStR_KPN/s1600/IMAG0567.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1KNLsmhCio9PeHNG9RRIV0qFo7T8rimq8KCKAd0u-tZoRTtK3fQXgiNnUyxytfnAmrYMA7TstErWPICPO3zW9ZHPGBWq4s4O2FVNfM6vCXrwiS3E0mUEnmkP6om8BX-E5mEqmStR_KPN/s400/IMAG0567.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658594971545273122" /></a>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-92096793061373448572011-09-23T20:57:00.000-07:002011-09-23T21:07:57.816-07:00my new (first) tattoo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ucil2ayIT_OKoSsVbRC2_UYOzlq6YFgA4VvzRAdrx9nGNukc4YaypxZ3W7d3IKmMOm3SCaTK2478qJL_bSI7WNMrX1odOMkX5cU9lmfvjHZDWHiIRUd_7UJFUqMNrFYob02F9HKbBK-w/s1600/tattoo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ucil2ayIT_OKoSsVbRC2_UYOzlq6YFgA4VvzRAdrx9nGNukc4YaypxZ3W7d3IKmMOm3SCaTK2478qJL_bSI7WNMrX1odOMkX5cU9lmfvjHZDWHiIRUd_7UJFUqMNrFYob02F9HKbBK-w/s400/tattoo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655772485771692914" /></a><br /><br />Many say it looks like a woodblock print and that is not untrue. I drew the waves and originally filled them with lots of lines, but decided that even ones gave it a clean, orderly look. The man who tattooed it on me said it was "geometric, but whimsical" which I think sounds great. I found myself writing about water this summer all the time, I think it's a very apt metaphor for life. Now it's on my arm.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-49023159083742358542011-06-23T15:59:00.000-07:002011-06-23T16:01:35.378-07:00Stuck in My Head<iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GchgAvD1fxA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-73346495756012136492011-06-23T15:49:00.000-07:002011-06-23T15:59:26.075-07:00Body PartsI've been going to writing workshops at VONA for the past week and we've done some cool exercises in class. The other day we were asked to write stories that were, in essence, a tour of our body. I started with my eyes and came up with this story to share:<br /><br />I have worn glasses since the age of four. It all started in preschool one afternoon when I reached across the table to steal a piece of melon off of my neighbor’s plate. I ended up knocking over my cup of milk. As it lay prostrate on the table and I scrambled to pick it up, Anita, my preschool teacher, caught my hand. She turned me towards her and stared into my face. <br /><br />“You didn’t even see it, did you?”<br /><br />“I did! I did!” I cried. I liked milk probably as much as melon. To watch it pool in a thick, opaque puddle was breaking my heart.<br /> <br />“And you color with your face so close to the paper,” she mused, releasing my hand.<br /> <br />“I like those markers’ smells,” I said. I snatched up the cup, letting the last drops of milk fall into my open mouth.<br /><br />“I think you need glasses,” she concluded.<br /> <br />“There is nothing wrong with me,” I huffed and stuffed the contraband melon into my mouth. <br /><br />As it turned out, I was near-sided with astigmatisms in both of my eyes. My parents nodded nonchalantly when Dr. Arao shared this information; my eyes were just like theirs. I picked out one pair of pink metal frames and one in blue, figuring they would match anything I would ever own. From then on, glasses became a permanent part of my face. It wasn’t such a terrible change, there were plenty of people who didn’t have perfect eyesight. However, the idea that my body had somehow failed me at such a young age, even in this minor way, was not lost on me.<br /><br />It wasn’t until high school that my imperfect vision became a good time. One night I found myself stoned and sitting on top of the whale at the Lawrence Hall of Science. When I took off my glasses and looked out across the bay, it became a sea of multi-colored, bobbing orbs that pulsed and glided, their starry halos orbiting and overlapping.<br /> <br />“You see that?” I asked my best friend.<br /> <br />“Don’t you just love the view?” she asked.<br /><br />I didn’t tell her that’s not what I meant. That this was my own private light show, one she could never see. It seemed rude to point out her visual shortcomings at this time.<br /> <br />A few months ago I met the girl of my most recent dreams. We had made a habit of sitting in my backyard drinking beer and listening to music late into the night. Once it was dark out, I liked to plug in the colored Christmas lights. <br /><br />“You ever do this?” she asked me one time, taking off her glasses and nodding towards the string of lights. “It’s like a magic show.”<br /><br />“I do.” I nearly gasped. “Doesn’t it make you feel like you have a special power?”<br /> <br />“Yeah. Because it is,” she said. “We can see things other people can’t.”<br /><br />I took off my glasses and together we watched the celestial, blinking dance of the rainbow orbs. Electro glo-fi beats pulsed through the air and I felt like I had somehow come home.Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-16133251440154025892011-06-12T11:36:00.001-07:002011-06-12T11:36:58.480-07:00My Current JamSophie told me to listen to Painted Palms and I fell in love.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xz4WQQ_9xEQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-43096056060792094812011-06-12T11:23:00.001-07:002011-06-12T11:31:38.784-07:00Friday SillinessI think Maneka once mentioned to me about the girl who paid lots of cashmoney to make a hot pop hit for her birthday. Then at the Oberlin reunion, this Oberlin Friday parody version was playing all over the place and I got the annoying song stuck in my head! However, it wasn't until this very morning that I watched the real video and realized how ridiculously, hilariously close Dan Schloss' Oberlin version is to the real thing. And that is beautiful.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FAwqbEsCfsI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-68153187461802536262011-06-08T13:38:00.000-07:002011-06-08T14:05:41.131-07:00Crate MagazineI spent a really long time over spring break editing and laying out this little magazine. Sophie can vouch for me sitting at her really awesome drafting table, trying to figure out all the tedious, annoying details of page layout. Anyway, it turned out really well and I'm quite proud of its beauty. The magazine features 4 pieces of fiction that I liked enough to edit myself and you should probably own one: <a href="http://www.crate.ucr.edu">Crate site</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKS6vRNQRC3Vnz7jvOoGP4qfpuDZZMYtUU9AWFZb3d283pcLOVxXf0sHpOcrg6TDm0in0eB1SbI6anIdHGMBjutcLp5HSyu0PNWhgc-c5YVMq6W47Gj-O7apebea-aD3wTUSPHCNp2zsK/s1600/Crate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKS6vRNQRC3Vnz7jvOoGP4qfpuDZZMYtUU9AWFZb3d283pcLOVxXf0sHpOcrg6TDm0in0eB1SbI6anIdHGMBjutcLp5HSyu0PNWhgc-c5YVMq6W47Gj-O7apebea-aD3wTUSPHCNp2zsK/s400/Crate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615951854082128898" /></a>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-33484695070321732932011-06-08T13:35:00.001-07:002011-06-08T13:37:53.904-07:00School's OUTHence, Sam(antha Lamph) and I felt the need to produce some videos inspired by the beauty, freedom and wonkiness of summer.<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fb-KsEJh7DI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7MPZAGO_NwY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/81SQN1z6LtU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-1537299676502724542011-03-03T08:41:00.000-08:002011-03-03T08:42:07.658-08:00Early Activist Natalie Portman<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/QQ64G7AYsFw?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-6915483239371082132011-02-19T18:45:00.000-08:002011-02-19T18:51:40.149-08:00Water InspiredMy dear friend Heather gave me an alligator who grew from very tiny to impressively large while submersed in a bowl of water for a few days. During this time, I noticed that the bowl of water, in which the toy was placed, sometimes caught the sunlight and made a cool pattern on the wall. Then, when Robyn and I were recording our podcast, I realized that the sound effects in Garageband would be very cool to use to alter my vocals and make some water-related music. On this rainy afternoon, I put the two together and made a little video ditty:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SPnBG9WF0DI?hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SPnBG9WF0DI?hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-14252047006154621252011-02-14T22:45:00.001-08:002011-02-14T22:50:26.613-08:00My Valentine, Tina FeyIn celebration of Valentine's Day, I treated myself to a lovely article in the New Yorker, by my greatest love, Tina Fey. I saved it to read over breakfast this morning. It made my day super. Thank you, Tina Fey. I think you can get sort of an idea of it <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/02/14/110214fa_fact_fey">here</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://listicles.com/wp-content/upload/tina-fey-0901-03.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 425px; height: 349px;" src="http://listicles.com/wp-content/upload/tina-fey-0901-03.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-35106642309222871872011-02-14T22:40:00.000-08:002011-02-14T22:42:56.935-08:00A Video for Poetry ClassI also made this for poetry class. It may have a good idea in it somewhere. I once, long ago, gave Amy an assignment to walk around in Chicago doing her normal routine and take video footage of her feet walking, so that's where the audio is from. It also stars my sister, Maneka, who, after showing this video in my poetry class, was deemed a budding star by a woman in my class.<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qmOoK3rdh4M?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-57346343929974018912011-02-14T22:33:00.000-08:002011-02-14T22:37:54.981-08:00Soup With RobynI keep forgetting about this blog and leave it dormant for months on end. There are probably other things I should put on here that I care about and that I have been doing, but I just made this video of Robyn and myself making chicken soup. Which reminds me very much of when Sophie and I made chicken soup. And it was the most amazing soup I've ever had. This new soup was good, but not as good as the Sophie chicken soup because in that case, I also made the chicken and made stock. But this was super quick and easy and delicious and accompanied by a wonderful movie, The Prince of Persia, that you can even read about on <a href="http://averagefilms.wordpress.com/2010/06/03/prince-of-persia/">Sophie's blog</a>.<br /><br />Watch:<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/D5RNDizCgEg?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-90658622516509541452010-12-22T11:03:00.001-08:002010-12-22T11:03:31.725-08:00It's Important to Go Hard<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q97c5szTgIA?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q97c5szTgIA?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-48075108693149065542010-12-20T18:42:00.000-08:002010-12-20T18:50:18.985-08:00Espresso MakingEver since living in Portland, I've grown to like good coffee quite a bit. However, I don't know anything about coffee and it's one of those things that people assume I know things about. Kind of like bikes. Only I know even less about bikes because at least with coffee I know what tastes good to me. <br /><br />Anyway Amanda, fresh from her trip to Italy, though that probably has nothing to do with it, was making me some kick ass redeyes in Chiacgo and she showed me how those polygonal espresso makers work. She also explained to me that a macchiato is espresso with milk in it; it means "stained" in Italian, the milk staining the coffee. This was all previously a giant mystery to me. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gdbIHFjyfyk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gdbIHFjyfyk?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-89777324713154290122010-12-19T22:15:00.000-08:002010-12-19T22:22:13.828-08:00The RoomThere has been much talk about this movie recently. It began probably around last year when Amanda and Sophie went on a much hyped-up date to the Music Box (where Amanda has an in with the manager, Sophie was very impressed by this) to see Tommy Wiseau himself present this horrendous piece of cinema. I declined to watch with Sophie when she rented it on Netflix to watch again. I had heard tell of the excruciating sex scenes and couldn't do it. But now my sister is inordinately obsessed and so we went last night to the Piedmont Theater for their monthly midnight showing of The Room. The trailer, in case you're not familiar:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yCj8sPCWfUw?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yCj8sPCWfUw?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I have to say that it was definitely more fun than watching it on the plane, which I had done to prepare myself. The two Asian women, one old and one young, sandwiching me really didn't appreciate the excruciating sex scenes. They both faced away and pretended to sleep. Anyway, there were a bunch of Oakland hipsters throwing spoons and footballs and pointing out inconsistencies, such as when Mark is being seduced by Lisa and he goes "the candles, the music, the sexy dress" to mention all of the sexy, seducer things going on, but there aren't any of these things present in the scene. So people yell things like "what candles? what music? what sexy dress?" That was pretty funny. People also did a lot of yelling of "who are you?" because people in the film are never introduced. And the guy who plays Peter switches half way through. Overall, it was a fun time and I think it was more fun for Maneka than laughing hysterically by herself over and over again. <br /><br />It also occurred to me what an amazing soundtrack the movie has. Maneka pointed out to me that there are a few songs with some actual, really interesting and unexpected chord progressions. The sex scene songs are also so grossly appropriate. They gave away the soundtrack and I thought about what a great gift that might be. Here is the unexpectedly interesting song:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NZfox7y8VAg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NZfox7y8VAg?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />This sexy one sometimes gets stuck in my head and it's totally annoying and not something you'd ever want to be caught singing:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5iVBuA3vnQ4?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5iVBuA3vnQ4?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-22293275945624350972010-12-19T22:00:00.000-08:002010-12-19T22:01:14.065-08:00Missing Limbs: The Final EpisodeIf you never got to hear the radio show that Sam and I did together in our last year of college, this will give you a good idea. It also features appearances by Darin, Sophie, Kim and possibly others. I meant to put this up a way long time ago. For those interested, there is a Sophie song around 19:43.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yGuHlOg8lgY?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yGuHlOg8lgY?fs=1&hl=en_US&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7625497361618930301.post-69711890617806205482010-11-08T09:35:00.000-08:002010-11-08T09:36:49.440-08:00Best Friends in the FreezerSam and I once took video class together. Gems were made:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/dgR5CMK7PLM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/dgR5CMK7PLM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Kamalahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04486661956069886946noreply@blogger.com0