harder every day.

"You need to be the best person you can be. Then, you need to be better than that. You need to be beyond what you thought you could be. And you need to be that, all the time, even when you don't want to be, even when it's harder than you ever imagined.

Then? Well, then you need to not be afraid to show all of that. You need to be ready and willing and able to crack open your heart and expose it to anyone and everything. You need to be ready for it to break wide open, to be rejected, to be laughed at.

Then? Then.

Then, maybe you're ready."

laff '09 wrap-up o' dreams.

In case you've missed it, the vast majority of my writing, reviewing, editing, and dreaming on the old internets has been reserved for Gordon and the Whale. I will never fully abandon this blog, but I don't want to just post just to post, when I can be doing stuff of real value for the internet baby birthed into my life a few months ago.

Here's a special treat for those who have not been as attentive to the ass-kicking job I did covering the Los Angeles Film Festival this year, all for GATW - it's a list! With reviews!!

Kate's Top Ten (Eleven, Kinda) List of Los Angeles Film Festival Films, In Order of Awesomeness, Woo!

1. Dear Lemon Lima
2. It Might Get Loud
3. Humpday (no review - check out James' from Cinevegas HERE)
4. All Tomorrow's Parties
5. Harmony & Me
6. Cold Souls
7. We Were Once a Fairytale
8. Weather Girl
9. ZMD: Zombies of Mass Destruction
10. Hollywood, je t'aime
11. Wah Do Dem

the comfort of strangers.

I am not one of those cheeseballs who walks around spouting ridiculous, half-baked lifetruths like "all strangers are just unmet friends." I think that is creepy and is a good way to end up dead in a ditch. I'm a lot more into the "if you haven't got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me" school of thought, followed up with "nice chatting, stop now." Obviously this means that, when I travel, I rarely participate in extended conversations with those around me. I do enjoy commiserating with my fellow travelers when things go wrong (as they sometimes do, and as they did on my flight to DFW on Friday). That's cool, and I can roll with that. When my Friday afternoon flight was cancelled, I made nice with numerous fellow travelers - two girls trying to get to Atlanta, an angry ad sales rep, a nice couple from Ft. Worth. But these "friendships" didn't exist longer than a few minutes, and were based on a mutual affliction and a desire to get out of a crappy situation. Things like that will be forgotten in a week or so, and that is totally okay.

This is why what happened on last night's flight back from DFW was so weird and so interesting to me. I got to DFW thirty minutes before boarding, just enough time to speak to my mother and A, grab some coffee, and try to get myself together. The gate we were boarding at was right next to a gate boarding a flight for Sao Paolo. When I say "right next to," I mean it. I was trying to focus primarily on my iced vanilla latte and not accidentally ending up in Brazil. That's when my new friend entered my life. Like everyone else milling around the gate, she was confused. Thanks, American Airlines, you totally blow at announcing things. We ended up standing next to each other, waiting for our turn to board. We chatted briefly about AA's insane boarding structure, bad flights, how much we wanted to be home, all the normal stuff. At some point, I glanced at her boarding pass and realized that she would be sitting in the window of my row (I had aisle). I sort of sighed to myself, half in relief that I would be near someone normal, half in anticipation that I might have to feign some chatter with her for the beginning of the flight.

As always, if you want to make God laugh, make a plan. Getting on that plane, all I wanted to do was read "Snow Angels" and listen to horrifically sad music on my iPod. Basically, I was looking forward to emotionally flagellating myself in the dim hopes of purging some swirling thoughts left over from an intense weekend. HA HA, Kate! Within minutes of sitting down and saying a renewed hello to my seatmate, who I would soon learn had a name synonymous with "a state of happiness or felicity," I had actually given up my aisle seat to seat in the middle to continue speaking with "Felicity," as I will call her. This is untapped country.

Felicity, I soon learned, lives two hours outside of Los Angeles and is fourteen years older than me. If either of these facts were removed, I know Felicity and I would be great friends. But the fact that we would not be, by normal standards, friends as such, is actually what allowed us to spend the next three and a half hours having one of the best "friendships" I've enjoyed in years. I've always thought that the most significant and beneficial relationships (of any kind) are best described as conversations that never end. One can look no further than my best-friendship with A to see why I feel this to be so important and so true, or even consider my "work BFF" D and the way that, literally, our conversations never end, just take hours-long breaks for actual work. Felicity had, in the duration of our friendship, one conversation that did not end.

It's amazing what you can cover in three and a half hours. Felicity and I discussed all manner of topics. You name it, we hit it. We discovered some eerie coincidences - her father started the company that one of my closest friends works at (in a relatively obscure industry), I know the children of one of her friends from way back. As horrifying as "it's a small world" is, it's also fucking true. Felicity and I got deep and familiar quickly - within forty-five minutes, we knew the names of the significant people in the other's lives. I could talk about A by name, and Felicity would know who I was talking about, so on and so forth. We talked a lot about family and a lot about love. We talked even more about what it takes to find yourself. By virtue of many different circumstances, Felicity has spent the last five or so years completely dedicated to her family, and we spent significant time plotting out what she wants to start pursuing on her own now - religiously, socially, educationally. I felt more than comfortable explaining to her why I was in Texas for the weekend, and can only describe the feeling of hearing her thoughts and advice on said reason as "pure relief."

Some people might take such an opportunity such as this to lie, or inflate their life - who cares, right? You'll never see this person again, you can say whatever you want. But Felicity, when pointing this out, went reflexive on it - we could be totally and completely honest with each other because we would never see each other again. We could bring to the table absolute truth, because there would be no repercussions beyond our three and a half hours of sitting next to each other. The only things that would remain would be what we, individually, allowed ourselves to hold onto.

This conversation was, in many ways, life-changing. It was, in many ways, exactly what I needed at that moment. I presented myself to Felicity in a way that allowed her to point things out to me that a) people I love dearly often point out and b) people I know deeply often miss. I believe I reacted in the same way to her.

It was a chance to remember what I have often felt to be the most miraculous of all occurrences in the human condition - being understood by another.

your carefully curated june offerings at the egyptian and aero.

Considering I just renewed my Cinematheque membership yesterday (which, hello? You should, too! Or get a new one! Or donate $1,000 and get a seat named after you at the Aero! Or come visit me and A when we volunteer, and we'll give you newsletters and chatter and a hug if you buy a membership!! Sometimes, when we volunteer, we bring props, like crazy records! And we're always over-caffeinated and we always have something to say about the shows, and this is all why we're AC members, because these are our people, and you should be one, too!), it's fitting that I bust out with the June offerings at BOTH!! of Los Angeles' beautiful American Cinematheque theaters.

Though I do not often make it out to the Egyptian, I must mention some of their June showings, particularly a pretty special program they're doing just next weekend - a three night event honoring director Kathryn Bigelow. Apparently, she'll be appearing in person for every night's event, including two double features of four of her biggest action slams, and the long-awaited Los Angeles premiere of the critically acclaimed THE HURT LOCKER. Check it out:

Friday, June 5, 7:30PM - sneak preview of THE HURT LOCKER. Tickets available.

Saturday, June 6, 7:30PM - NEAR DARK and STRANGE DAYS. Tickets available.

Sunday, June 7, 7:30PM - POINT BREAK and K-19: THE WIDOWMAKER. Tickets available.

---

June at the Aero is mainly looking pretty damn classic, which is a-okay by me. There is one exception, a fun Monday sneak preview.

Monday, June 8, 7:30PM - THE TAKING OF PELHAM 1 2 3. Tickets available. Special guests to be announced.

Friday, June 12, 7:30PM - AIRPLANE! and TOP SECRET!. Tickets available.

Saturday, June 13, 7:30PM - ROCKY and ROCKY II. Tickets available.

Friday, June 19, 7:30PM - E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL and CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND. Tickets available.

[Picture source]

wednesday evening movies at cc.

The "entertainment" on the Dining Terrace at Westfield Century City is usually limited to screaming children, poorly dressed teenagers, and that one weird singer guy who often plays Neil Diamond songs with a retro spin while screaming at the audience to sing along. That's all stuff I generally don't enjoy, especially when I am trying to chow down on some delicious Coral Tree Cafe grub before a movie, and usually with a hangover. But, guess what!, the kids at CC have wised up and jumped on the movies-outside-in-LA bandwagon I love so much. Even better, they're gussying up the whole summer with a free movie every Wednesday night, and the list includes some "new classics" the whole family can enjoy. Have a feeling you'll be seeing me and A dancing about to the jams of Kenny Loggins on June 24 and popping volleyballs in aviators on July 29, at the very least.

status check.

Yes, I have been MIA. Yes, I am prone to this. No, I can't guarantee it won't happen again soon, but I can provide a wee update on what's currently circling around in my noggin.

Musically, I am currently obsessed with Silversun Pickups' "Swoon." Prior to this album, I was not a huge SSPU fan. I don't own "Carnavas," and I'm not planning on picking it up anytime soon, "Swoon" is more than enough for me. I have not seen them play live, which I consider a great tragedy. I am planning on getting "Swoon" on vinyl the next time I am at Origami, because shoegaze on vinyl is awesome. My favorite tracks on "Swoon" are currently "Catch & Release," "The Royal We," and "Substitution." The entire record, however, is solid. You need to possess this record.

When it comes to the television world, I am finally willing to publicly state what I have long feared to be true. "Parks and Recreation" is not funny. Amy Poehler is not funny in her role as Leslie Knope. Rashida Jones' Ann Perkins is supposed to be Knope's straight man which, as it turns out, doesn't work because Jones is a) generally not funny and b) seems pretty much bored. Paul Schneider's Mark Brendanwicz is...um, okay? I love Paul, so it's hard for me to be clear-headed on reviewing his performances, but I think the best way to describe it is, his character is woefully unnecessary. It's obvious they're trying to align a little love triangle with Mark, Leslie, and Ann, but, holy fuck, is this boring and void of chemistry. I am convinced Aziz Ansari is a perv. I saw him at the Destroyer solo show at the Echoplex, so that's cool, but he spends way too much time on Twitter saying offensive things (using "gay" as a derogatory term to describe something just isn't acceptable). The only people I enjoy on the show are Aubrey Plaza (as a spacey college intern, hilarious and spot-on) and Chris Pratt as Ann's lug of a boyfriend (he has a band called Just the Tip, come on!). Otherwise, the show is simply not funny, and essentially unnecessary. Ugh.

My very first film review on GATW has been incredibly well-received. I saw STAR TREK again over the weekend (this time in Fake IMAX!) and, once again, thoroughly enjoyed it. I was slightly afraid that a second viewing would make me feel the need to up my rating to a 9/10, but I stay strong with my 8/10. My next review to be posted is for the indie WHAT GOES UP, which I will not spoil here, save to say that I think I want to be Olivia Thirlby.

I am seeing Dirty Dancing: The Classic Story on Stage on Saturday. I cannot even remotely wait. As my mother put it, "thank God they didn't do this when you were ten, you would have died at the theater." I plan on singing along like a fool, buying a buttload of truly embarrassing souvenirs, and maybe crying. I should also note, this was my parents' idea.

And in last, but most certainly not least, "so excited, I could die" news, I am going on a wee weekend trip to the Lone Star State in two weeks because, unbeknownst to me, the universe sought to see fit to place someone infinitely important to me 1,417 miles away from me. So, you know, I gots to go work that out for 48 hours or so.

[Picture source]

never forget.

for thought.

"The best proof of love is trust."

shameless plugs.

My first two reviews are up on GATW!

Check out "Star Trek" here and "The Limits of Control" here. Please read, enjoy, and comment away!

angel city drive-in summer schedule.

Hot off the presses, kids:

May dates - Gates open at 7:00PM, show starts at 8:30PM
May 9 - Rear Window
May 23 - Ferris Bueller's Day Off

June dates - Gates open at 7:30PM, show starts at 9:00PM
June 13 - Priscilla Queen of the Desert
June 27 - Bottle Rocket
July 11 - Wild at Heart

July and August dates - Gates open at 7:00PM, show starts at 8:30PM
July 25 - Bugsy Malone
August 8 - Secretary
August 22- Fast Times at Ridgemont High

September dates - Gates open at 6:30PM, show starts at 8:00PM
September 12 - Clue
September 26 - Bringing Up Baby

www.twitter.com/devilsnight
www.myspace.com/angelcitydrivein
www.devilsnight.com

afternoons at the troubadour.

My top three LA bands are no secret (Airborne Tox, HCP, Afternoons), but I probably don't spend enough time giving credit where credit is due to number three. This seems especially true when you consider that the Tox and HCP have their very own tags on the old blog, and Afternoons gets short shrift otherwise.

Afternoons are truly an act that is best experienced live. While I love listening to their EP, their music takes on a much moodier cast when delivered in a recorded fashion. Live, they cannot help but be seriously buoyant and alive. Despite having at least seven people on stage at all times (including two drummers), they consistently turn in some of the most cohesive performances I've ever witnessed. They are wonderfully adept at performing as a solid unit, while letting their individual talents and personalities shine through. They are, simply, exceedingly fun to watch. If all that is not enough to get you to want to give Afternoons a taste, there is this - singer Claire McKeown possesses the most extraordinary voice I have ever heard live. Ever. I've seen Afternoons at Spaceland (small and tight), Echoplex (long and echo-ey), and outside at the Hammer (live show anathema, that place), and Claire has never been less than a revelation.

Afternoons are playing a show at The Troubadour on Thursday, May 14. Tickets are ten dollars pre-sale, twelve at the door. Skip the ticket fees and order your tickets via one of the greatest secrets in Los Angeles show-purchasing - fax that order in, baby!

[Picture source]

"city under fog."

Was flipping through my old MySpace blog and found this gem from about three years ago:

it is in this light that everything darkens and fades as if resisting the touch of something greater layers stay covered and skin finds no breath to move through there is only the whisper of what was legs wrapped in twine and carried to the unseen his feet over his head as if acting in some serious ballet some dance that no one else could know and that gasp that shuddered across the dirt and the still night air he is not moving and he will never move again his heart is stopped and no words even those from poe’s grave offer sentiment worthy back across the deep end of the ocean he will carry and in the bowl of home will he rest gone from it gone from the steady hum of the ebbing waters

---

where there was once something stretched and whole there is now nothing vanished only a memory to be held in a mouth like a suckled bullet cold and medicinal there are boxes to pack our things and feet to bring us away but something holds close a watermark of scarring on our hands and a swift memory of what has been taken what has been lost and you can almost see him fly

---

even before if one looked upon his stretching back his blades would pull in such a way that you would swear his wings were already beginning to sprout

"the list."

Despite the fact that my current reading list has gotten so out of hand, that I have actually purchased another bookcase just to hold books I am currently reading, I have decided it's time to so some re-reading of past favorites.

First on this list is "The List" by Tara Ison. A and I were hard into this book about two years ago, when we saw Ison speak at the LA Times Festival of Books. She was on a panel about Los Angeles literature that also included two other writers you should be reading - Seth Greenland and Diana Wagman.

"The List" is about a poorly matched LA couple, Isabel the overachieving medical student and Al the slacker video store clerk, and their consistent attempts to break up a relationship that Isabel thinks is going nowhere. They eventually decide that the reason their break ups never stick is because they have left too many things undone between them. And by "things undone," I essentially mean "Los Angeles field trips they want to take together." For instance, one of their undone outings is a trip to the planetarium, another is a day on the Santa Monica Pier. For an Angeleno like me, it's an interesting book to read just for the locales (they meet outside the Vista Theater! They get breakfast from Dupar's!). That alone is worth the price of admission (bahahaha).

However, Ison's book succeeds not just as a fun LA guidebook of sorts, but because of her interesting and, dare I say it, sensitive portrayal of what love looks like in all its messy, confusing glory. As we work through the list, Ison bounces between Isabel and Al's perspectives. There's never just one side to anything, and love is no different.

la cabal craft brew fest.

Just a quick update on the LA CABAL Craft Brew Fest this Saturday at the Echoplex. They're sold through on internet pre-sale tickets, but are planning on selling significantly more at the door on the day of the event. The event runs from 2PM to 9PM, and the Echoplex is big enough and ballin enough to handle such a large crowd over such a long period of time (that's what she said?). Food from Pure Luck is reason enough to go. I'll be rolling in after the Revlon Run/Walk, so I will be sweaty and tired and amped and hungry and thirsty, so there's nowhere else I should be besides a Beer Festival.

The current list of participating breweries is:
Craftsman Brewing Co.
Telegraph Brewing Co.
The Bruery
Hangar 24 Brewery
Blind Lady Alehouse
Port Brewing Co.
Firestone Walker Brewing Co.
TAPS Brewery
Green Flash Brewing Co
Ballast Point Brewing Company
Mission Brewery
Sierra Nevada Brewing
Lagunitas Brewing Co.

I can taste some Green Flash IPA in my future.

"kate and allie: 2009."

As snarky and sharp as I may sound on this blog, the fundamental truth about me is pretty plain to anyone who really knows me. I am a total marshmallow. I lead with my heart. I always have and I always will. Which is why I am writing this, and why anyone who doesn't want to be exposed to me at my absolute cheesiest should skip this entry and pretend it never happened. Go read anything tagged "Hell is other people," and you'll be good to go.

Today is a holiday. Yes, it is Cinco de Mayo. But, more than that, it’s mine and A’s four year anniversary. And, yes, we do celebrate our best friendship anniversary, simply because we are total weirdos and need to set aside time to tell each other how much we love each other, because we spend most of our time conversing in a made-up language consisting of clicks and clacks and meows and winks and nods and abbreviations for everything. At least once a year, it’s imperative for us to express how grateful we are for each other, beyond emails that simply read, “I HATE EVERYONE” (with the subtext that “everyone” does not include the receiver of said email). And so I take to writing, and writing in a public forum, because that’s the best way I know to a) get my feelings down and b) stick it to everyone who doesn’t have a best friend as great as mine.

A once told me she thought I was fearless, which ranks up there in the top five compliments I have ever received. The funny thing about this, however, is that it is A who has made me fearless. Despite the fact that we are both closet homebodies, when A and I get together, a strange magic takes over, and there is almost nothing we won’t say yes to, almost nowhere we will not go, almost no one we will not hang with. This is precisely why we have ended up in so many horrible, tragic, hilarious scrapes. We have a stable of stories about these scrapes that we trot out at opportune times to gauge other people’s reactions (“the mythology,” as A has coined it). The sharing of the mythology is a pretty important step in the formation of any other relationships. Our stories involve horrifying buzzwords like “water heater closet” and “meth heads” and “ticket scalping gone awry.” We’ll tell the stories to our victims (friends), and sit back, defiant and stubborn as only we can be, with only our eyes betraying what we’re actually thinking, which is, most often, “try and love us now.” It’s a pretty awesome testament to our taste in other people that our stories usually inspire hysterical laughter and proclamations that we are amazing. It’s probably because people think we’re exaggerating. We’re not. It’s very real.

If things were different, if we were younger, if A and I were silly teenagers, her inspiration in me to be fearless would probably not translate to other areas of my life. We would form one of those impenetrable pairs of best friends and we wouldn’t move beyond the other. This is why I like to think that God (yes, for realz, I’m getting down with God on this) didn’t give me my best friend until I was 21 and ready. When A showed up on the scene, I hadn’t had a really amazing best female friend in a very long time. I was a guys’ girl. I actually dropped out of sorority rush on the third day because of the boys – every sorority sister I’d been forced into conversation with would inevitably ask me why I wanted to join a sorority, and I’d talk about how all my friends were guys, and then it dawned on me that I was acting like an idiot, and that my friends were amazing and wonderful and hilarious, and fuck these insane sorority girls, I am out, I know where I belong, and it’s a stinky dorm room on the second floor of Rosecrans, drinking cheap beer and getting chips thrown at my head and watching movies with the boys, peace! Hilariously, if I had stuck with rush, I probably would have ended up in the same sorority as A. If our friendship has taught us anything, it’s that the G-man has a wicked sense of humor, and we’re some of his favorite subjects.

My best friendship with A has improved my entire quality of life, that’s the most succinct way I can explain it. The amount of trust, loyalty, and faith she has shown in me every day for the past four years is simply unshakable, and it has only made me want to be a better person, to show that same amount of trust, loyalty, and faith to everyone I love.

four albums for the weekend.

"transformers: revenge of the fallen" trailer.

fur real?

Over a year ago, I introduced my readership to Butterscotch. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a deep affinity for all animals, but the be-ponytailed ten year old that lives in my heart has never, ever gotten over not getting a pony of her very own. My pony-having desires were not just fed by the usual Lisa Frank-stamped childhood lifestyle products. I genuinely wanted a pony, because I genuinely used to ride ponies.

There is no better way to truly learn the adage to "get back on the horse" than having to actually get back on a horse that has tossed your ten year old self straight over a goddamn jumping fence approximately four feet high while you scream bloody murder and flail your hot pink riding crop helplessly while your riding britches-covered butt goes over your head and then back under your head and then back over, so that you've landed meekly on your side, terrified and exhilarated and then you have to make the choice to get back on, because I will tell you right now, if you do not get back on it that moment, you will never get back on. And I got back on. And it's possible that moment has defined my entire life. I got back on. I get back on. And that's why I wanted a pony. I had some life lessons to learn and I knew a pony would provide them.

But I never got a pony. I didn't even get a Butterscotch. I got a Biscuit.

If you've been subjected to the Erblands in all their glory, you understand that who I am is a direct and precise extension of my mother and father who, despite being Republicans, are my two favorite people on the planet. When the three of us are together, it's best explained as "the Three Amigos meet March of the Penguins," but with more wine and more flaring Irish tempers than could be reasonable or sound. If this does not make any sense to you, please feel free to come kick it with my parents and myself during their next Los Angeles visit. As of now, this visit is set to include another visit to Record Surplus and an outing to the staged version of "Dirty Dancing." There might also be sake-bombing. So, knowing my parents, it makes perfect sense to me that they would send me AN ANIMATRONIC DOG to my place of business and laugh giddily about it when I called them to ask them, "what hath thou wrought!?!?" Also, I think they were reading the TSA guidelines for carry-on items, which is another completely innocuous thing they inexplicably mine for comedy when they get bored (see: "Antiques Roadshow").

The point of this post is thus - I'm the luckiest girl in the world. And, also, I don't know how I am going to explain this to Charles.

shhhhuper shhhhpecial shhhhow.

This is going to be a wonderful, wonderful show benefiting a wonderful, wonderful cause.

Directly from the Echoplex blast:

This Thursday, April 30, Silversun Pickups and Eulogies will perform at a very special benefit for Pablo Castelaz and The Pablove Foundation, at the Echoplex in Los Angeles. Tickets will go on sale tonight, April 27, at 6:30pm for $25 via TicketWeb. Purchase will be limited to two tickets per customer and ONLY available through online purchase, with a scheduled will-call pick-up. All proceeds will directly benefit The Pablove Foundation named after Pablo Castelaz, the five-year-old son of Dangerbird Records co-founder Jeff Castelaz and his wife Jo Ann Thrailkill.

I'm not able to make it out on Thursday, but I encourage anyone and everyone who can to show up for a great night of music for a very important cause.

"back to the future" marathon tickets now available.

Fandango it up, kids. Also, please note that this SUPER! SPECIAL! EVENT! has a regular ticket price - no sticker shock at the Aero.