Portlandia

Lorne Michaels is producing a show about my city.  It makes fun of my city, it celebrates my city, and it's being filmed in my city.  It's called "Portlandia" (just like the big weird statue that guards the city).

I guess filming started last week, but I just sent off my resume with the hopes that they might need another cable wrangler or coffee wench. 

Oh man, if I could bring Lorne Michaels a cup of coffee and have him tell me it was too hot or too bitter, I think my life would be complete. 

Of course, he's probably not even in town.  But his minions are.  And maybe they don't even check their email during production.  But maybe they do.  And maybe they need me.  I sent them my phone number.  Maybe they'll call.

I really want them to call. 

Another Post That Really Isn't About Much

Here's an ancient cartoon my mother showed me this morning when I was feeling sad:

I don't know why I find it so funny, but I do.

Maybe I just needed a good laugh this morning. I've been thinking too much again. My life continues to play out like a low budget indie film, leaving me overwhelmed and confused. I'm tempted to change my name and move to South America, but that would probably be considered counter-productive.

So I'm going to make myself a cup of tea, hide away in my living-room-turned-office, and write like mad. Tomorrow I'll go back to putting together articles that might sell, but today I want to make some serious progress on the "Goat Man" script. It's a good day to be a reclusive writer, a good time to get lost in my own fictitious, anthropomorphic universe.

Maybe if I'm feeling brave, I'll record snippets of some the songs I've got for "Goat Man" and throw them up here. But only if I happen to feel brave. :D

Anyway, I'm off to my living room/office/cave. Over and out.

Scott Pilgrim Vs. Me!

It was hot yesterday. I am such a wimp when it comes to the heat. I generally have three ways of coping with hot weather:

1. I crank up the AC and I don't leave my house.
2. I get in my car and drive until I'm at the beach, where it is always overcast and cold.
3. I go to the movies. I can always count on movie theaters to be properly air conditioned (well, with the exception of funky art-house theaters that were built in the 1930's, but that's irrelevant).

I had already spent too much time in my house yesterday and I live three hours from the beach, so it was time to go to the movies. I watched the trailer for "Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" (posted below).

I decided to go see it based on the following:

1. It stars Michael Cera.
2. It has something to do with indie rock.
3. It features Michael Cera playing guitar in an indie rock band.
4. It's directed by the guy who did "Shaun of The Dead" and "Hot Fuzz."
5. The chick in the trailer had cool hair.
6. Parts of the trailer reminded me of "Kill Bill."
7. The love story part of it looked kind of cute.
8. Michael Cera is more than kind of cute.

So I conned Steve into going with me. We chowed down some Chinese food and made our way over to a pretty empty theater. Actually, we were the only people in the theater until the movie was about to start. Then a small clump of obnoxious teenagers came in. One sat right behind me and put his stinky feet up on the seat next to me. It was so repulsive that I made Steve move down several seats with me. There is nothing worse than watching a movie with stinky feet in your face.

Neither of us really knew what to expect from the film. I figured it would amuse and distract me for two hours but didn't have incredibly high expectations for it.

Five minutes into it, I leaned over to Steve and whispered "Oh my gosh, I love this film already." He gave me a silent yet enthusiastic thumbs-up sign. I looked over at him and noticed he was grinning. The opening credits overtook the screen and I saw the name JASON SCHWARTZMAN. I didn't realize that he was in the movie too and discovering this made me downright giddy.

Since it's based on a comic book, the film is pretty stylized and has a lot of references to video games and nerd culture in general (hence the reason Steve loved it so much). I'm usually unimpressed by comic book/superhero movies, but "Scott Pilgrim" was just fun. It had good music in it, hilarious dialogue, and enough clever cultural references to keep my inner hipster satisfied (though a true hipster probably wouldn't be caught dead in that theater).

Of course, the movie also deeply satisfied my inner nerd - a persona that I hide fairly well but has existed for years. *sigh* I guess it's time for an embarrassing history lesson.

When I was a junior in high school, I attended a charter school for kids who wanted to focus on Information Technology. I didn't really care about computers, but I needed a change of scenery from the chaos of public high school. The social ladder was completely flipped upside at that school. Nerds ruled the world and I usually ate lunch with the one misplaced jock and the one other female in the program. Fitting in at the nerd school proved to be just as difficult as fitting in at public high school. It didn't help that I was going through a pretty intense fashion phase that involved wearing vintage fur coats to the computer lab. I also had a thing for shoulder pads and often went to school looking like this (brace yourself, this is an actual picture of 17 year old Lauren):

Horrifying, right? Mary Tyler Moore called, she wants her jacket back.

Most of the nerd boys were a little bit in love with me. Though this helped me ace several computer programming classes, it was annoying because I just wanted some friends. At some point I decided that if I was ever going to be friends with anyone other than the jock and the girl (who really weren't that nice or interesting), I was going to have to be open-minded to nerd culture.

It was about that time that some stuttering nerd boy who had a thing for me offered to let me borrow his new copy of some stupid-looking graphic novel. I cringed but borrowed it just to be nice. I even read a few pages of it just to see what it was.

And then I stayed up all night reading it. It was much better than I had expected it to be. To his amazement, I returned the book to him the next day having read the whole thing. Without even hesitating, he supplied me with the next book in the series. And so began this strange season of reading graphic novels.

I think I borrowed an entire series from him over the course of a few weeks. I was embarrassed by the nerdtastic nature of the books and would keep them in the special zip-up pocket of my backpack during the school day. Once I made it home, I would go in my room and hide the book under my mattress. Yes, I know, I was acting like it was pornography or subversive political literature or something really offensive. There was nothing pornographic or subversive about it, but girls that wear vintage fur coats don't read comic books.

Looking back, I think the boy lending me the comics totally misinterpreted the whole scenario and therefore I accidently led him on. Actually, things got fairly ugly when he realized I just wanted to be his friend that borrowed all of his dorky-yet-fascinating comic books. He abruptly stopped talking to me. At first I thought it was because I returned a book to him with the cover bent a little bit (life in Lauren's backpack is rough sometimes). But when he hacked into my computer at school and started passing around my assignments for everyone to copy, I knew I had somehow unintentionally stomped on his little nerd-heart.


My trusty comic book supplier had become my enemy, so I began turning to the Internet for my nerdy comic fix. I paid attention to the web comics that boys in the computer lab were reading when they were bored and read them when no one was looking. Then I would reference them in the presence of nerd boys in attempts to gain acceptance and earn their friendship.

This catapulted me to Queen of the Nerds status (which is a little bit like "Queen of the Damned" but with less outfits made of leather and definitely less sex). Every boy in that stupid computer lab had some sort of weird crush on me. It was flattering and I got a lot of free computer help that way. But I really just wanted to be part of the group, not the star of teenage geekboy fantasies. I specifically remember there being some big geeky get-together at somebody's house on a Friday night. It was just going to be a lot of people drinking Mountain Dew and playing Mario Brothers or watching anime or something along those lines. I didn't even really like any of those things, but everyone in the IT cohort was going. Naturally, I wanted to go.

But I wasn't invited. This is pathetic, but I can distinctly remember sitting in my room on Friday night, writing in my journal and keeping my gigantic cell phone close by in case somebody remembered to invite me. The phone never rang. I decided I didn't want to be a part of that scene anyway.

The next week, I put on my sweatshirt that I had ripped up and sewn back together with safety pins. I got in touch with some people from public school and started a rock band in my garage. We called ourselves "The Accoutrements" and never left my garage, but that's irrelevant. That turned out to be my high school niche and my days of trying to fit in with nerds was over.

Except that nerdy part of me has never really died. Movies like "Scott Pilgrim" remind me that it's still there.

(Yes, I did manage to bring it back to the original movie review this post was intended to be. I have a way of rambling sometimes. Please forgive me.)

On another note, I found myself a little jealous of Ramona Flowers in the scene at the end where Michael Cera and Jason Schwartzman were fighting over her (kung fu fighting, to be specific). If I was in her position, I would just be like, "Hey guys, I can't choose between you. So I'm going to have to choose both of you. Welcome to my harem of adorably awkward hipster boys."

Anyway, go see "Scott Pilgrim." It's absolutely ridiculous, but it will make you laugh. It made me laugh, anyway. Actually, I think it's one of the funniest, freshest films I've seen in awhile.

And instead of sleeping last night, I stayed up making a silly avatar for myself on the "Scott Pilgrim" website. Because that's what all the cool kids are doing these days.

Oh man, I really am geekier than I give myself credit for, huh? I think I'm going to end this post before I incriminate myself any further.

Peace out, amigos.

Relatively Boring Bloggy Updates

So I just revamped my blog layout a bit.  That black background was making me emo.  I always forget how long it takes to do a proper redesign.  I innocently sit down and think "Hmmm, I think I'll change the look of my blog today" and then two hours later I'm still staring at my computer screen yelling "C'mon Mr. Header, WHY WON'T YOU BE CENTERED?!"  Maybe I'm just stupid and it's not really that tedious for anyone else.  But anyway, my blog is now ready to take on the fall season.  And if you are reading this, it is your duty to tell me how the new layout looks.  You have to look at it too, so if you think the color sucks and the picture of me prancing around in a baret is tacky, please alert me immediately. 

I also just discovered that if you log into Blogger in Draft you can read all sorts of stats about who is reading your blog.  Apparently I've been getting hits from really random places like Latvia and Malaysia.  Go me. 

In other news, I've been meaning to get my musical advice column up and running again.  Sadly, I'm running a bit low on emails.  Anybody out there in the universe need some advice in the form of a song? 

Also, while I'm spewing random bits of information, it should be noted that the infamous Steve is trying to get his blog off the ground.  He doesn't update it very often but I bet he would if people besides me read it.  He's generally brilliant and his blog can be found here.  Go leave him some love.  

That's all I've got for now.  A more interesting post will come soon, I promise. 

A Post About Nothing

Ra ra ra-aaa-aaa. Lady Gaga is stuck in my head. It's almost noon and I'm barely done with my first cup of coffee. I need to get a lot done today. I've got a lot of articles and assorted rubbish on my hard drive that needs to be printed out and shipped off to possibly be published. I've decided to give this whole freelance writer life a serious shot. It's overwhelming though. I've been feeling a lot like Bambi in the 1969 short animation "Bambi meets Godzilla." Poor Bambi doesn't have a chance in that film. But I digress. Maybe if I drink another cup of coffee out of my giant Chesire Cat cup that Steve brought me from Disneyland, the world will seem brighter. Or maybe I'll just become even more anxious. Whatever. Maybe I'll just return to my daily Craigslist surfing. There are some good things on there today.
Of course, there are also some ridiculous things:

Need mass of pirates, zombies, ninjas and cylons for production shoot.
Will provide blood, booze and food.
Must provide own costume, be able to lift 30lbs and sprint short distances.
Respond with relevant info- skills/strengths and previous experience in related career tracks. Prior convictions okay.

Okay, so I'm sitting here laughing at that post, but really I'm just secretly sad I don't own a ninja costume. Maybe I could make my own zombie costume. All I need is oatmeal all over my face and ketchup dripping down my neck, right?

Bleck. It's official - this is a post about nothing. I will do something productive today! I will! Just you wait. I'm gonna kick into high gear starting...now. BAM!

Over and out, amigos. I'm off like a herd of turtles.

Poopface The Third

Today I realized that people actually get paid to write the cutesy sayings inside of greeting cards. A lot of cards are written by freelance writers and it's possible to make enough to pay a month's rent off of a single card idea.

So now I'm sitting here trying to come up with charming/witty greetings to send off into the ether in attempts to make some extra cash.

Unfortunately, right now I can't think of anything other than horribly insensitive birthday cards.

For example:

(Outside) Happy Birthday... (Inside) YOU'RE OLD!

(Outside) Birthdays happen every year (Inside) And then one day, you will die

(Outside) You're older than you've ever been (Inside) AND NOW YOU'RE EVEN OLDER!

The last one isn't even original. I stole it from a They Might Be Giants song.

Maybe I'll write Bar Mitzfah cards instead?

(Outside) Happy Bar Freaking Mitzfah (Inside) May your day be full of Jewishy goodness

(Outside) Who is undergoing puberty and looks hawt in a yamulka? (Inside) YOU!

Okay, those won't do. Maybe I'll write Valentine's Day cards?

(Outside) Roses are red, Violets are blue... (Inside) Screw it, I'm bad with poetry. Will you be my Valentine?

(Outside) I LOVE YOU SO MUCH (Inside) SO LET'S DO IT!

*sigh* I don't think writing Valentine's Day cards will be my niche.

I was thinking of moving on to Christmas cards or Talk Like A Pirate Day cards or maybe even Martin Luther King Day cards next, but I should probably go to bed before I offend anyone else. I'll revisit this idea tomorrow. Perhaps I'll be less cynical and obnoxious in the morning and will come up with something that's actually worth publishing.

Truth is, right now I'm really just distracted by the fact that my little brother is in the same room as me playing the original "Oregon Trail" game. He just informed me that he lost five oxen fording a river and that Poopface The Third has dysentery. It's quite hard to take anything seriously when Poopface The Third has dysentery.

That's all I've got tonight. Over and out.

Here I Come To Save The Daaaaaay!

Hey ho bo diddly bop! I'm back in town, boys and girls.

Camp was a little bit crazy. I intend on writing about it, but right now my brain feels like leftover spaghetti that blew up in the microwave and then was thrown out the window and run over by a kamikaze clown car (see diagram below).

So I'm going to retreat into my cave with a bowl of ice cream and probably a Wes Anderson film and/or a Beatles album.

But first, a word from Mr. Andy Kaufman:

Yeah...I watched "Man On The Moon" for the first time a week ago and the common side effect of Kaufman-fascination hasn't quite worn off yet. Sorry about that. I shall return to the regular scheduled programming tomorrow!

Over and out.

Happy Ending?

I don't know if "Goat Man" is going to have a happy ending or a sad ending. I want him to get the girl but that might be too cliche. I really don't know. I've always liked stories with sad endings.

Anyway, I'll be taking a forced hiatus from "Goat Man" and will have a little time to mull it over.

I'm leaving to go volunteer at a summer camp tomorrow.

I just remembered I don't really like children.

Getting My Act Together (Or: One Of Those Slightly Introspective, Read-At-Your-Own-Risk Type Of Posts)

Today was kind of a big day.

It started out like any other day. I woke up, made coffee, and turned on my computer to see what was happening on the Internet. I was scrolling through all the usual Facebook updates when a picture caught my eye and made me almost drop my coffee cup.

The picture was of a guy I know - well, a guy I kinda know, a guy I might have gotten to know better if things had played out differently. He was holding a guitar, wearing a hat, and looking smug. And he had his arm around Jason Schwartzman.

Yeah. Max Fischer. It's no big deal. He's only THE LOVE OF MY LIFE.

Okay, maybe I'm being a little melodramatic. But really, it's JASON SCHWARTZMAN.

The worst part is this: If I had been willing to go out on a limb and be a little bit insane, I might have been in L.A. posing for pictures with Jason Schwartzman last night. But no - I was at my parents' house waiting for my phone to make noise. Fail.

Like I said a couple of days ago, I think I've been putting too much energy into keeping everyone around me happy. As a result, I think I've been missing opportunities and neglecting what I want. Maybe it sounds really selfish, but I think I need remember what is important to Lauren. I need to focus on what I want to do and not on what I feel like I should do.

I also need to get off my ass and make things happen. The world may be mine for the taking, but it's not going to just fall into my lap and say "TAKE ME NOW!"

So I'm making things happen. I'm working on writing comedy sketches. I'm working on "Goat Man" (by the way, thanks so much for all of your encouraging comments regarding that project). I'm polishing up old articles I've written and thinking about sending them off somewhere. I'm writing songs like mad.

And I'm going to work on being more spontaneous and doing things that seem completely illogical, only because I know that if I don't get the urge to travel and be impulsive out of my system I'll never be happy settling anywhere for very long.

I'm also thinking about getting a real job.

After all, I did sign a lease today. I might need a steady income in the near future.

Yeah, I signed a lease. Shortly after I decided that I was going to take control of my life, an email popped into my inbox announcing that my application for the artist's community had been fully processed. So I drove down over there, picked the room I want, and made plans to move in on October 1st. That gives me a month and a half to focus on my writing and be irresponsible in general.

And tomorrow night, I'm going 80s dancing. You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Because your friends don't dance and if they don't dance then they're no friends of mine.

Okay, I'm descending into Men Without Hats land. Must be bed time. Congratulations if you've made it this far through this post. You get a gold star.

Goodnight, amigos. (Or, good morning, for those of you who are reading this from the other side of the globe.)

Goat Man Wishes The Phone Would Ring (And So Do I)

I hate phones, but sometimes I get so sick of Facebook communication. Sometimes it feels so impersonal. Phone calls take more effort, but sometimes I really like them.

I've spent years hating phone calls. But now that the whole world is transitioning over to text/Internet-based communication, I miss hearing people's voices. And on days like today - when my phone doesn't ring at all - I wish that someone would work up the old-fashioned initiative to call me just to say "hello."

Of course, there's a good chance they'd be saying "hello" to my answering machine. I'm notorious for not answering my phone. But that's besides the point.

In other news, I searched my entire house today and finally found my purple notebook that has been missing for a couple of months. I archive my entire life in notebooks and am terrible at keeping track of them, so it's not completely weird for one to go missing. But the notebook in question had the main theme and some important notes for my "Goat Man" musical I mentioned in my last post. I was about to give up and start over on the theme when I found it in the very bottom of a box buried in the closet (don't even ask how it got there - I'm not really sure...). There was much rejoicing.

Then I opened the notebook and realized that the theme wasn't as developed as I thought it was, and the notes weren't as extensive as I had remembered them being. But it inspired me a little bit. Actually, I spent a good chunk of the afternoon excavating old songs from several notebooks and trying to make sense of the play's plot line.

It's a messy job but it has to be done.

I'm still a little stuck on why Goat Man is a goat man. He is half man, half goat and I don't really know why. I don't want the reason to be something bizarre/disgusting, but I want it to be believable within the story's suspension of disbelief. I've been reading up on Greek mythology (thank you, Wikipedia) in hopes of gaining some sort of insight on how one becomes a goat.

But alas, no real insight was gained. So I'm sitting here wondering if having a reasonable explanation about Goat Man's goatyness will really matter to audiences. Maybe it's just a weird gene that runs in his family? Maybe he ate too many oats as a kid?

Hmmm. He's in a psychiatrist's office for half the play anyway, so maybe the fact that he doesn't know how/why he is a goat man can become a plot device.

It's ridiculous. I've got almost 20 songs in the works for this project but barely know plot details. I know it's (mostly) a comedy. And a love story (goat meets girl, anyone?). And a musical. An existential rock opera in the key of despair, to be exact.

There I go walking that line between quirky and dumb again...

Engaging Neurotic Writer Mode, Captain!

I suffer mornings most of all
I feel so powerless and small
By ten o’clock I’m back in bed
Fighting the jury in my head

- "Have To Drive" by Amanda Palmer

"Who Killed Amanda Palmer" has been playing on my iPod a lot over these last few days. Life is weird and overwhelming, but that's how it goes. Sometimes I feel stuck in the mud. Today was one of those days. I got up early, but by ten o'clock, yeah, I was back in bed.

I got out of bed eventually, of course. Went into town, got some coffee, read music magazines at the nearest bookstore. Did a lot of thinking. I think that sometimes I focus so much on trying to keep other people happy that I forget about what is important to me.

The day got better. I watched Wes Anderson's "The Darjeeling Limited" with my family tonight. I know I sound like such a cliche white person/film geek/hipster saying this, but that film makes me happy every time I watch it. I grin every time Adrian Brody runs past Bill Murray to catch the train (in slow motion!) before the opening credits. I laugh every time Jason Schwartzman maces Owen Wilson in the face ("I LOVE YOU BUT I'M GOING TO MACE YOU IN THE FACE! AHHHHHHH!"). I get hooked into the characters every time and am always smiling when that French song plays and the end credits roll.

I really want to write a script like that someday. I want to tell a story that people can get hooked into and find joy from again and again.

Writing is hard for me sometimes. I always have a million ideas rolling around in my head, but I have a hard time shaping them into something manageable. By the time I get my mind wrapped around some sort of plot, I become bored with the idea and move on.

I have had one idea floating around my brain for a little over a year though. It started out as just strange, late-night sketches in my journal and evolved into a full-length Broadway musical. I think it might be a good idea, but I really don't know. I need to be more disciplined. I need to devote time each day to working on it instead of just waiting for INSPIRATION. A lot of the songs are already written and all of the main characters are in place. I've even got a couple of scenes down. And a title - I have a title! "Goat Man Is All Alone Tonight (And So Am I): An Existential Rock Opera In The Key Of Despair." Might have to shorten it if it ever actually makes it to Broadway - that's a lot of put on a marquee.

Anyway, I have all of that. I just need a plot. And the discipline to write it. And confidence. Sometimes I second guess my ability to write something decent and then end up writing nothing.

Gah. Speaking of second guessing, I'm doing it right in this very moment. The concept of "Goat Man" is kind of out there. There's such a fine line between quirky and dumb. There's also a fine line between ingeniously funny and offensively strange. I feel like I may be in danger of crossing both of those lines with this.

But I guess I'll just go with it and see what I can come up with. It can't be worse than the 50 page stink bomb of a screenplay that's still saved on my hard drive from a couple years ago. "And Would You Like To Be Fried With That?" was the name of it. It was about some nerdy guy who worked at a fast food restaurant and spoke with a fake British accent. I think maybe the idea had potential but I jumped the shark with it pretty fast.

Anyway, I'm descending into rambling mode once again. Bed time for me. Goodnight, my darling blog friends.

I Went To Canada When No One Was Looking

Home again! I left for a little bit, remember?

I went to Forks.

Don't tell Jacob this, but I'm on Team Chief Swan.

And before you click the "back" button or the "unsubscribe" button or the "alert all your facebook friends that Lauren has really lost it this time" button, I should clarify that Forks was only a mere pit stop on the way to a magical place called Canada.

Somehow I ended up with more pictures of Forks than Canada. Forgive me Father for I have sinned.

But I did eat Canadian bacon on my pizza in Canada. Does this earn me back any cool points?

I also went kayaking for the first time, which was absolutely incredible. I was so caught up in the excitement that I forgot to take any pictures. So you're just going to have to believe me when I say that I've kayaked into the ocean and am alive to tell about it.

This post is a little spastic. My apologies. I just got back today and am a bit tired. Life is continuing to move at the speed of light. When I got back to Portland I went to the open house of the artists' community I plan on moving to in September. Hipsters galore. There was a bit of a miscommunication and I won't be signing the lease tomorrow like I thought I would be, but hopefully I'll get all of that squared away soon. Otherwise I might have to declare it National Throw A Hipster Off Of A Bridge Day. Which would actually be a significantly bad move on my part, because I think I become a little more hipster-esque everyday and I don't want anybody throwing me off of a bridge. Even if it didn't kill me, it might mess up my hair and make me spill my PBR.

I should go to bed. I'm getting up in the morning to go to Steve's family reunion. I'm sure it will be fun and relatively painless, but it's my natural instinct to be terrified.

Anyway, that's all I've got tonight, amigos. It's good to be back on teh Interwebs!

Awkward Sauce

Sometimes I don't know how I make friends. I make horrible first impressions.

New Guy: So, what are you doing with your life now that you've graduated?
Me: Well, I'm going to live in a commune and work on scriptwriting stuff. But really I just want to be a rock star.
New Guy: *laughs hysterically*
Me: You think I'm kidding, don't you?
New Guy: *keeps laughing* And don't we all just wanna be famous? *laugh laugh laugh laugh*
Me: *courtesy laugh*
*awkward silence*
New Guy: So you write things? What do you write?
Me: Right now I'm doing a lot of comedy sketches.
New Guy: Oh? Wait, so you're funny?

Ack. That conversation is right up there with my old boss constantly saying things like, "It's so cool how underground your band is. Like, I've never heard of them, ever. In fact, I didn't even know you were in a band until you told me you were in a band! That's so cool." So full of fail.

Anyway, that concludes today's dose of Adventures in Awkward Lauren Land. Will be out of town for a few days, so if the blogosphere lacks my love, fear not! I shall return triumphantly at the end of the week.

Till then, if you need to/want to get a hold of me, you can always shoot me an email over at hi.im_lauren@hotmail.com. I'm one of those obnoxious iPhone users that can pick up email anywhere. So yeah. *switches to fake French accent ala Mal from "Inception"* You know how to find me! You know what to do!

Over and out, friends.