So it seems that my blog postings have become a monthly event. If you're reading this, consider yourself a charter member of the "Cerebral Metalhead Blog Post of the Month Club." Since you've all been so patient (except for Kelly and Lenore), I'm gonna make this post an extra special action-packed graphics heavy post. Watch out, or you just might be ambushed by a high resolution picture. Like this one:
Those are my friends Lauren (L) and Lisa (R). Neither of them is really a Boy Scout--that's my old uniform splayed across their shapely corpi. And for those of you with eagle eyes, yes, I did earn the fingerprinting merit badge. And basketry. And pets. (Side note: you should see the awesome hammer that I made as a final project for the machinery badge--you know that song "If I Had a Hammer?" Man, for the first week or so after I built that thing, I was hammering in the morning, in the evening, and all over this land.) I like this picture because it looks like Laurelisa (they usually come as a pair) just emerged from my bathroom. Lauren looks like the happy-go-lucky rules follower, and Lisa is the insouciant sexpot. That's pretty accurate, actually.
New Years Eve is usually more memorable than enjoyable for me. Here's the highlight reel of the last few NYEs:
-2003: not yet 21, Etan is yelled at by Hooters waitress for taking sip of Tommy's beer. Sops up wounded pride with buffalo wings and celery sticks.
-2004: Etan spends evening on Sunset Strip avoiding $60 cover charges and offers of unmarked blue pills from strangers in Miyagi's bathroom.
-2005: delightful house party at Sara Leib's is capped by a drunken Joe pontificating on the best place to hide dead bodies. Joe later stumbles into the rose bush twice, then later kicks a spiflicated Mexican man several times to make sure he's alive. Then later he (Joe, not the Mexican man) vomits, but Etan agrees to sleep over anyway.
NYE 2006 was both memorable AND enjoyable. Just like everyone else at the party, I brought over beer, all of which was left over from my Hannukah party just six days before. I certainly learned my lesson the hard way: Dos Equis is nobody's favored brew. There were still two bottles of it left in Dan and Aditi's fridge when I went over there this Saturday, and I don't think I brought more than two. Dos XX tastes like donkey piss, which is probably what it is. But no matter. As it turned out, friends from many of my different social circles all converged on Dan and Aditi's house--Kelly came along, my good friend Jinna was in town with her friend Josh, Victoria bizarrely was on the Evite and decided to stop by once she found out that I was gonna be there. With the social lubricant triumvirate of alcohol, weed and really great people, things were nowhere near as awkward as I feared they might be. Plus, it's hard to feel bad when you look so good:
Kelly (L) and I (R) were going for Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, but we probably got a little closer to "eager honors student" and "naughty professor," don't you think? If you're wondering, the beard has only grown more fearsome, its owner more dashing. Thanks to my father's torso for not being the same size it was in the early 80s so that I could borrow his jacket.
It's a time of transitions for me. New year, a relationship ended, I'm the new editor of the Prefix L.A. Events site (coming in late February), and I quit my post at Cryptogramophone. That's right, it's my first week of unemployment, and I'm damn excited about it. Before you go worrying that I've become a trust-fund baby, please know that I'm accepting interviews and determined to nab a temp job if need be. Just this past Tuesday, I met with Aaron and Mark at Hydra Head Records, a great art-metal label based out of Atwater Village. They're looking for someone to keep them on track with release schedules as they grow larger and have more things to think about. Could that someone be yours truly? They seemed to think so. They even gave me 37 CDs/DVDs, three t-shirts (one of which I am proudly sporting while I write), and two hoodies as a gesture of good faith. Or maybe they were just embarrassed that I had to pay for my own cold rice noodles at that unnamed pho place in Silver Lake for lunch. Will 24k be enough to finally sally forth from my room at the end of the vaginal canal? Barely. I'm leaning towards something that won't require me to subsist on ramen noodles, tomato paste and peanut butter, but maybe I just need to get the hell out and not worry so much about my personal financial solvency at this point. Aaron and Mark will be at theHigh on Fire/Big Business concert that I'm attending tonight at the Troubadour, so perhaps I'll get them drunk and convince them to raise my salary by $40,000.
It's 4 in the morning. That seems about long enough, don't you think?