In a BFF Movie

I have this thing with people. I think what Sylvia Plath said about her social personality fits perfectly. "I either like people too much, or not at all". It's sad to say the not at all part, because it is reminiscent of a quality in me that I'd like to exhume, but I can't ignore the fact that when I find someone I really like, I must spend every moment possible with them.
I've spend the past few years of school sitting in a corner during lectures scribbling not-so-sweet nothings into my notebook. Just my never ending list of complains for the day. But lately I have been trying to be a little bit more open. I mean working on movies with groups, you kind of have to or else you will be walked all over and ignored. At the beginning of the semester I was assigned a group with three other boys and one girl. I was kind of nervous because of the stupid girl rivalry I have been vibeing from other ladies in the class. I wasn't sure if this would be another case of it.
We made our way to the hall to rehearse and in our first run through we were joking around and really feeding off of each other. Everything went great. I was so excited I came home and rambled on about her Canadian accent and all of the stupid little things we had in common. Of course, I was too nervous to make any real effort to hang out outside of class. I have been going through a rejection period and wasn't amped on adding another one to the list. Thank god I never had to. She asked me one day if I wanted to hang out, do something. I thought she was trying to be nice, so I told her I might hit her up. But when I got to the bus stop I wondered why I didn't just invite her over then. So i texted her, she came over that night and didn't leave until about 4 am.
This is where my tale begins, a tale with no ending...for now.
Now that I have been spending time with Molly pretty much everyday either on film shoots or just getting wasted and she makes fun of my shwag weed, I haven't been focusing on my lack of friends outside from her. Something that used to bother me anytime I was vacant for thought. I would think about the things that upset me, think about how I felt like I had no one to talk to about them, wonder why I didn't have anyone to talk to, question myself..you know the cycle. It sucks to truly be alone with your thoughts thrown to you through a 4x6 inch metal door providing blank wandering eyes and a tap on the shoulder.
When I'm with her though, I'm alright with saying pretty much anything that is on my mind, whereas most other people I hide every reality of myself. I feel like Daria when she first moves to Lawndale and is immediately adopted by Jane. Not to mention if some of my other friend's personalities were to be blown up and exaggerated they could be hideously similar to Bevis and Butthead. In the best way possible.
 I have been this monotone, cynical wit bitch that's needed someone to say "Come on, that's too depressing. How about we call it, "Beauty is only Skin Deep," and we attach the actual skin of a student? " This Ghost World like friendship is what I have always loved an treasured about girls and friendship. I don't have the feeling that when I leave everyone will start talking about me, mostly because there is no one else to talk to and, why would your friend want to do that anyway? I don't ever feel like she wants to me leave already because every time I try she finds a reason for me to stay. And I am never nervous about texting her and the possibilities of it not being returned because she has always responded to me. 
These all may seem like petty things to any one person, but for me it is hard to keep up with the many lives of every person. I love having a person know me, and most of all really getting to know someone else. One person, one ever long journal shared with someone else. Much different than a romantic relationship, but very similar. 

Heavenly Creatures

Jucy

I also can't stop thinking about Heavenly Creatures. Only, I don't think it will get that far. I mean ..I know it won't! Now and Then- Sam and Teenie. Thora Birch is just the best "best friend" character. I mean she even made Zachary Binx her BFF in Hocus Pocus . Jucy- a newer movie about two girls that have a tight knit friendship.

Now and Then

Okay now I'm just going on about BFF movies. I guess that's cause I kind of feel like I'm in one right now. 
I just wanted to do a little update on what feels like a new leg of my life, so from now on I won't have to introduce this "person I'm always with" 
Let the obsession begin!

Glittery Pink Cassie Candle! Eeep!

 I have been slightly obsessed with the UK version of Skins if you can't tell. I have a ton more to blog about but I have been really caught up with school and trying to keep my sanity. I haven't made a dress in
a few weeks or so. Not to mention I got one horrible feedback that wasn't even true, I talked with the guy for a week straight turns out he was new to etsy and just angry. Yay! I got to be his first "I don't know what else to do but get angry and be completely unreasonable". Kinda sucks, and I think it has a lot to do with my low sales and my ambition to get back at it. I know it should be the opposite but the feedback did really hurt my feelings and I was surprised when after offering him a one dollar bow with no shipping fee, sending his t-shirt back (since the whole thing was actually the post office's fault) all at no extra charge but the one dollar so he could leave a positive feedback. When he did it made no mention of the last review he posted and it wasn't as ...positive as I thought it would be. Oh well, what else am I gonna do with all of these lemons? I better get in the sewing room right? Wrong. A friend of mine had some personal shit happen and now he is staying with me-yes in my sewing room!!! I'm okay with it of course, he's been a good friend since high school, but I do miss my oasis away from Brian and everyone else in the world.
Since I am not working on my big projects outside of school, I have been doing little ones like this. I think I would have made the candle a little more decorative, but I was tired after a long day of casting actors for our class's final scenes we will be directing. It's a lot of work meeting a new person every 15 minutes!
But now it is the weekend, and I have some motivation!! I am going to have a real model!! I mean all of my girls are real, duh. But I guess what I mean to say is professional. We met at the rookie meetup, her facebook icon is of her with a flower crown. I'm sure we will get along perfectly! But that means I need to get some work done. I just wanted to pop in and say "I still think about you guys!" And maybe this candle decorating will inspire you to make something of your own :)

Glittered Candle, printed out Cassie picture, floral paper and my hello kitty scissors 

Would've done it like this, next time!

I've kept magazines around for two solid reasons. Inspiration and collages!

Also made a Sid candle, I'll have to find that picture. 

Write More, Right Now!

I've been getting on myself for not writing a whole lot now a days. It used to be my sanctuary, my safe, my warm blanket at the end of a shitty day, food when the hunger strike was done-you get the point. I was always writing when I was younger. I had a million and one ideas flowing through my brain and I wanted to remember every single one of them and not let one go to waste.
This lasted until a year after high school. I didn't have anymore boring classes to sit through and take advantage of the time by writing random stories, poems and personal complaints. Now for some reason it feels like a chore. I think a lot of it has to do with my not practicing much anymore. I've lost a huge chunk of my vocabulary, which stifles me from continuing out of sheer disappointment with myself. I dropped out of high school right before turning 18 and didn't get my GED until 5 years later.

I've always had this thing with friends where I guess I was perceived as stupid or something. My closest friends would figure they were helping me out by saying "well no, you're not book smart, but you're street smart". There were more than 10 occasions I came home crying from school because I was sick of being dumb. I just didn't get things as quickly as other kids did, bottom line. I was also being taken out of schools, and thrown into another one left and right. It's no wonder I didn't graduate on time, and I was already at a continuation school. Where else was I going to go? I never thought I'd go to college.

I thought I was going to write for the rest of my life and some how someone would find me irresistibly funny and entertaining and I would get published and my whole life would be a glamorous faire hidden away in some cabin in the middle of Italy, smoking my life away thinking of another story as ground breaking as my last memoir. I have these fantasies all the time. My favorite one is.....should I be telling you these things? Oh hell why not?

My ultimate fantasy is to (I need a time machine) live in the 1900's during a a time when exploration and science flourished, when insects were finally being dissected and plans put under a microscope. I see myself in the middle of a rain forest somewhere in the middle of India, hidden in a little shack made of bamboo and giant fallen leaves. I have a pet monkey that gathers food and makes my wine, he also is of great company to me. I am there for research, I have recently been banned from using anymore government money to explore, due to the fact that the doctor has told me for my health that I should stay in the states and recover from the snake bite I had survived in the Amazon.
I am researching a new type of plant, it's satin and hairy to the touch, although it's bristles are so microscopic with a human eye you cannot see it. The specimen sprouts flowers from all sides of the head making one big purple flower. Every petal has it's own color, pink, green, blue, yellow, yet together it's the perfect blend to make a light lavender purple. Not possible you say? That is why I am here! Science, love!

My monkey, Seymour, changes the labels of the tiny glass vases lined up on a wooden stock each with a tiny bit of water at the bottom and a sprouting flower of the one in question. He's taking each flower to rotate to it's appropriate day, I am on the other side of the 10 ft shack, drawing the insides of the flower I had just cut open. With my feather pen and ink well I have been trained to fill in the lines quite right, but the lack of protein I've been consuming is making my hands shake.

I am at  the verge of a huge break through when-I sweat. I let a single drop of sweat fall on to the findings I have been recording. The entire drawing bleeds together, the ink washes away as the brine sweeps the pages shore. I jump up with a grab at the head and scream as loud as I can. My monkey then hurries to my bed made up of branches, twigs and feathers to find my opium pipe. Once located he swings to my side and lights my fire. "Good Seymour" As I fall asleep.

So yeah, I do have a lot more fantasies of living in the middle of no where and my only excuse for being alone is the fact that no one lives within 100 miles of myself. This all being said I'm sure you're wondering where it all came from.

I watched Harriet the Spy two nights ago. When I was about 7-8 I remember being obsessed with that movie but I couldn't remember why. I mean I've always loved mysteries and shit but I just couldn't remember the movie. As i watched it my entire life came back to me. She's always writing in her journal, she gets attacked for what she writes to herself, she loses her best friends and her mentor, Rosie O'Donnell.

There was one scene that completely stuck out to me as I was watching it for the first time in 18 years, so much that I paused it before the scene actually started, stared at the screen and tried to think of my associations with it.I couldn't think of it. Harriet is sitting alone on a bench in front of a water fountain writing in her journal. She's asking herself what her mentor would tell her in her situation. "If you have to choose between having a friends and being a spy, I choose spy." Underlines, capitols whole thing. She continues to question if the possibility to have both could be true, and then her entire 6th grade class  roll up on roller blades drenched in a make shift armour of pans, trash can covers, anything tin. They bang on them and roll around her until she stops writing and runs away, then they follow her.

I started to cry, honestly. I get it, it's a movie, but it did remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. I assume it was after watching this movie that I got my first notebook because on the front it says PRIVATE just like it did in the movie. I was writing one day in class until someone picked it out of my hands and started reading it to the class. I tried to get it from them but they kept kicking me, punching me, holding me back. I was not liked ever in school, especially elementary. don't ask me why, I thought I was cool, but I was usually the target of thefts, fights, gum in hair, cutting hair, having the shortest hair in class because of this, gossip, oh and i totally got the fake notes from cute boys in class, I changed my name because I was tired of hearing my real name through the lips of spiteful others, so when i heard it again it wouldn't feel like me, I changed it to Katy, and only the people on my baseball team knew that.

Anything cruel that kids liked to do I usually got the blunt end of.
So I could see why the movie made me so emotional. I guess also it's what I should be taking from it to apply to my life now. Which is : write more often. It's not a chore, I love to do it, I love to read it and it makes life worth living.

Pains and Pleasures of Being a Ghost- The Movie

Hey ya'll! So remember when I said I wanted to kick ass for a living? Well, I'm not completely there yet-but I'm working on it. I told you I had a script I wanted to bust out, and I've got it now! For the past 3 weeks I have been working on little details and making the video for the kickstarter, which is now finally up!!!

The story is about a girl named Kenzie who is a successful college student by day and a creative homebody by night. When she is ditched by her friends on her birthday events lead to Kenzie finding an abandoned apartment she had never noticed before. Upon going on, she is locked in and soon meets the ghost of Ruth, a young woman who was murdered by her husband in 1926 and is now writing self help books for ghosts.

The young ladies discuss the differences in their worlds today, learn about each other and bond over countless glasses of wine and St. Germain. But, like any good ghost story, there's a twist. oooohhhhh

I can't wait to make this movie! But we do have one thing we gotta do! We have to raise 2,000 dollars in order to pay for lighting, camera, and gear rentals, hair/make up, travel fees, food to keep the crew happy and numerous other things that go into the production of the movie such as making DVDS, Posters and festival fees.

Plus we have an amazing designer, Amelia Statler who will be designing the dress Ruth, the ghost, will wear in the movie. Her influences derive from the 1920's era and old lace, so we're so excited to see what she makes! And we do want to pay her properly.

You can check out the kickstarter for the project with this link :

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1176546218/pains-and-pleasures-of-being-a-ghost

We also have a facebook

https://www.facebook.com/beingaghost?ref=hl

Anything you can do to spread the word and help out is amazing! We also have some great prizes for our backers like screen printed posters, home made ouija boards and an official "Pains and Pleasures of Being a Ghost" journal. And of course a copy of the DVD!

Again, any kind of support is awesome and would mean the world to me, thank you!

Guys Just Wanna Have Fun Too

I was supposed to play "the rock" in a local community theatre version of Ozma of Oz until i got the chicken pox on opening day. I was devastated, the Wizard of Oz series were my favorite books and all I dreamt of doing was opening the stony gate to the Nome king for Dorothy and her friends.Instead I stayed home that week tucked into a purple rode sucking down soup and watching Nick Jr. until my dad left and I would change it to Jerry Springer. 

My dad knew how much the show meant to me, and I'm sure this was a moment he wished he had super-dad healing powers. Without any supernatural gifts, he still tried to make things better. We were avid board game players and I had been wanting Pretty Pretty Princess for ,like, EVER, DAD! But we mostly played Clue, Life, Payday and of course, Don't Wake Daddy (please). 

I was taking a nap when I heard him come home and that beautiful breeze of fresh air followed him into the room, the best smell in the world when your sick. He put down his briefcase and took off his jacket as normal, and sat next to me on the bed.

"How're you feeling?" He said as he put his hand to my forehead.

"Okay" I muttered back

"What do you want to do tonight?

"I dunno, I'm kinda hungry" I was always hungry.

"Okay, well we can order in. Do you want to play a game while we wait?"

"No, I'm okay. Can we just watch T.V.?"

"Okay" My dad turned the TV on for me, left the room and came back. Enthralled Who's Line is it Anyway? I hardly noticed him when he put something across the snotty tissue collection on my bed next to me. I looked down and it was Pretty Pretty Princess, in the pretty pretty flesh. 

As sick as I felt, I jumped out of bed and buried him in a huge hug. When we played that night he had no bars held when wearing the plastic clip on earrings and necklaces, I think he was even supposed to win the tiara but let me win instead. 

I always thought my dad would be the only male in my life to care about doing these little girlie things with with me, just cause he had to. Duh, he's my dad! But then again, I never even thought to invite my guy friends to do any of these fun things with me.

Instead I had been searching for a girl gang to join or start. Honestly even just one girl friend to talk to, for some reason I felt like they would be easier for me to connect with. But since the only friends I have are guys, we do things like play pool, kick back listening to metal, shoot hoops, watch the game and then play pool again. Don't get me wrong, I love pool and I love my friends but sometimes in the middle of a game my mind wanders off to thinking about a cat portrait collection I'd like to paint with glitter, painting my nails with little daisies , or the how-to I've been meaning to follow to make saddle shoes from my white keds (which are done, and are rad. Thank you).

In my search to find girls, I think I may have come off too strong because I was so excited and my constant requests to get a Ouija board, dress up in flowey white dresses and flower crowns to conjure up Judy Garland was a little overwhelming. I sat around bumming myself out for a minute, but then I realized I had never asked my real friends that I had been excluding just cause they're guys to do these fun things with me.

So yesterday when my friend texted me around the time we were supposed to hang out "What do you want to do?" and I was tired of saying "pool?" I finally said it...

"I've been wanting to make a Ouija board to conjure up ghosts, but we don't have to do that"

A little nervous and trying to occupy myself with a book I couldn't pay attention to, my heart jumped when my phone buzzed back.

"Hell yeah, that sounds tight"

Really? Okay, awesome! My friend came over, we searched for a piece of wood, sketched out the board and took out the wood burning tool. I started it out and figured he might have been nice and just wanted to hang out with me while I made the thing, but NO! He asked if he could burn some letters in too! I was shocked, but I still don't know why. Boy or girl, burning shit is fun. 

So while he did that I took the opportunity to put on some Jesus candles that I had turned into character candles for each of the Skins (UK) cast. I thought no one else but myself would think this was cool, but I took it out anyway. While lighting them my friend asked about how I made them, what materials to use and where to get the candles cause he wants to make one for his favorite metal dudes.

I was so excited to finally be talking about these things that I liked with someone that wasn't through tumblr. Soon enough my other buddy came over cause he heard we were almost done with the board, and when he got here he just threw on a flower crown with me, we put on the rest of the candles and tried to meet Judy. 

For a second there I of course thought, "These guys are only doing this cause I'm their friend and they have to" But they didn't have to, I didn't force them, I hardly even asked them. And now I'm realizing, neither did my dad. I had been so blinded by girl power that I assumed my guy friends has already excluded themselves from my interests. I was excluding them though, I somehow forgot all those times we hung out searching for ghosts in abandoned correctional facilities, playing poker with flowers, exchanging each other's writing, making zines and tapes together, the meaningless road trips to China Beach and Treasure Island, playing Nicki Minaj with the Kids Bop versions and laughing at the differences, playing music together, and doing all of those other joyful things that come out of a friendship like talking, and getting to know each other.

I know there might be times when I wish I could blatantly tell somehow how much my period is killing me this week, but I think I can live with that, as long as I get to keep my friends. And honestly the one time I was "caught" buying tampons with them, I offered to leave because of the huge line, but they kindly told me they didn't mind the wait.

It's a brighter day with this new realization, I don't feel like I need to hide a huge part of myself because I assume everyone will think it's lame, honestly, I think my dad really wanted to win the tiara and my that friends had been waiting for an excuse to put flowers in their hair since they moved to San Francisco. Next time I won't hesitate a second to ask them to do what I think are considered "girlie" or "lame" cause, guys just wanna have fun too.

They said that we were trash, but the name is Crass, not Clash

           My alarm hissed at me for it's last time "7:30, 7:30". With two hours of sleep and perhaps still drunk I surprisingly made it out of bed, washed my face and sleepwalked to my jacket to leave. After a desperate attempt to clean my room yesterday, i unfortunately forgot to clean the litter box, I had even thought to myself to clean it but I decided to do that today...which is too late cause my cat pissed on my jacket, so I had to pull out my old beat up denim jacket. I love that jacket, and i may sound cray cray when i say, I just feel like it's part of my "past me".
                                                             
 So let's get on with the story-

 I get on the bus, where i figure out by the girl moving seats away from me that my cat had also pissed on my backpack, by this point I'm up and leaving at 8 am, i've been getting no sleep, i smell like i have 10 cats and poor hygene and probably look like it too. Music, that's what i needed. The morning bus always seems so much more serene and quiet like a cathedral during prayer. Sunlight glints itself through the plastic windows as dawn continues, heads are knelt down towards sleep , iphones and books. I thought i should join by listening to some light music, i finally added the moonrise kingdom soundtrack to my ipod so i was quick to put that on.

Soon enough i almost fell asleep to the "coo coo, coo coo" sung by a troop of ten year old british kids, so I turned to shuffle.

Crash symbols bring me into a rythmical beat i can't resist. It's my love- Crass.

Probably the best band in the world, not because of their reigning "punk" status and obviously not based on technical music skills and most of all I could care less about any of the member's personal lives. They are literally just the best band ever- think the beatles of punk rock.

Everything you know or assume about punk rock just put it aside for right now cause I'm going to tell you a beautiful story, or I'll try really hard cause my room mate is playing some shitty music really loud in the other room and it's totally fucking with my head while trying to write this-but I can't hold it back any longer!!

The drums, the dead giveaway to any Crass song. Tom, snare, tom , snare, tom , snare , crash crash, repeat. I don't think there actually is any tom, but i wanted to lay out the vibe. This marching band vibe- as if two 15 year old kids were stuck at school for too long, snuck into the marching band equipment and set it up to get a steady rock and roll paced beat.

Then in comes the guitar-no shredder, just a delightful tinny dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun. Always with the background noise, the glue to crass songs bringing together the drums and, my personal favorite, the bass.

Oh, I could have a love affair with crass bass lines, budum-bom bom buhda-bomp bomp. Dancing with the snare, the guitar doesn't like to join, just watch and then in comes the vocals. The lyrics are great yet mummbled and cockney thus hard to understand,but the message is always heard. Angry jabs are shouted as the music grows louder, and faster, ad louder, and faster, then just when you thought it was already perfect they fucking blow your mind again with a louder, faster, harder, better version of what you were just tangling yourself in. Yes,I used a daft punk reference.

Banned from the Roxy-Crass

needless to say, this is basically a reiteration of my first time listening to Crass, my first album was feeding of 5000, then i quickly aquired stations, soon after that I held on to the glorious penis envy. It was a gift for a friend, but within the year, the same album was gifted to me by the same person as a token of appreciation since perhaps Crass changed his view on punk rock as well.

Penis envy, ladies, might be your number one go to if you're a first time crasser. The album starts with Beta Motel, an amazing song that you can finally understand the lyrics to. A feminist song before the riot girls, and ten THOUSAND times better than kathleen hannah. I'm sorry if i'm using harsh words right now, but for reals ya'll Bikini Kill has nothing on the ladies of Crass.

Beta Motel-Crass

For one it's not the usual out of key whining usually heard in bikini kill, but the lyrics are poetry. I mean we all love "rebel girl, rebel girl, rebel girl , you are the queen of my world" but how can you beat "i've got 5,4,3,2,1, i've got a red pair of high heels on, Strap my ankles, break my heels, make me kneel, make me feel"

The I'm trying to point out is that bikini kill ,as feminists, tend to talk about experiences from another woman's point of view or idolizing, whereas Crass really expresses their own opinions and speaks for themselves, and even comments on idolization. Maybe I am touching on something untouchable so I'll go back to how amazing crass is.

Dirt-Eyes to see

On top of this one amazing band we have the birth of others, flux of pink indians, the ex, one of favorites, Dirt . Chumbawamba used to be a part of the Crass clique, that's right, are you making your home alone , screamer face? I get knocked down was a song they had written to make fun of how lame music was at the time, ironically it became a huge hit single that I heard on the radio everyday before school. The rest of their albums are what one might call "anarcho-punk".

 Bjork used to be a part of the gang as well!!! I was extremely surprised when I heard this for the first time and denied it, but 'tis true.
Crass has also influenced me in the way I write lyrics and sung in my first and recently over band, Statutory Apes. In fact I think we only existed because of crass, the three of us who started the band were all recently obsessed with them and wanted every jolt of their music in our veins.

All in all I wanted to write this post because throughout my time on the blog scene I've been seeing a lot of love for riot grrl, and some great punk-ish bands from the 90's, but no one seems to be talking about Crass. So here I am, giving them the deserved time to say (once again) Crass is the best band. And I would highly recommend this album to a friend :) Which one? Any of them! Oh and I love Bikini Kill, don't get me wrong. I'm just sayin......CRASS

Hi, I'm Elektra. What's your name?

So, like many posts, I have no idea where to start with my head right now. In the past two weeks I have been undergoing major self surgery to the brain, by collecting every thought that could possibly make me upset , highlighting those areas and putting them in the trash. I hate to use technology based metaphors, but 'ere I go... After putting those thoughts and feelings in the trash bin, it's not as easy to go   back to them and fully press empty right away before feeling like I might need them one day, so maybe I should just put it on my hard drive . I don't even know what a hard drive could be a metaphor for in the situation I'm trying to tackle, but it could be that I look back on the situations and think things like "Fuck, well , I'm right. What the hell?" and "Maybe I'm being too harsh on myself".

Possibly I am, and in fact have been for far too long. I let my emotions get the best of me in the worst cases. Not what you may think- What I mean is I bottle up a continuous river of self hatred and doubt and in the times when I am trying to reach out to someone to break the dam, my hand is slapped back for ever thinking of going for that cookie.
A part of me wonders why I would ever try a move like that with some people. But then a huge part of me screams at myself saying "I can't fucking stand you, that's why I need to talk to someone else already!!"

Little bit o' background if you're not familiar with who I am. Hi I'm Elektra, I work from home, where I sew in a tiny little room. Stroon about are piles of fabric where my cat chooses to lay until I'm done. When I'm not sewing I'm doing things like this, writing, drawing, reading, eating, thinking, dreaming etc.. So the most amount of human contact I get in a day is (if I'm lucky and business is going well) Crystal, my favorite lady at the post office, and Alex, my outgoing coffee girl .Who is now gone so that's one off of my list and replaced with another girl I am forming a dollar-for-coffee relationship with at the moment.

I go crazy inside of my head. My boyfriend works nights, which is when I am not sewing anymore, so I write and do all that other crazy stuff, and when he is home, I have to be sewing and working on shit. He is also an artist and a guy with his own life.

It used to be for a good while there that my buddies would come over and drink 40's, or we'd go to the local gay bar and shoot pool THEN go to our place and pound 40's. I liked that because of how little contact I got in the world, they still were around to make me feel human again.

Now shit like that doesn't happen anymore, so yeah I'm kinda bummed. And I don't really want to go into full detail about anything-so I won't. Although I have no idea how to convey how I feel right now.
I'm trying so hard not to care about anything. I have been told for 15 years how much more emotional I am than my friends by one person. I never cease to fail her with my tears so she may have the opportunity to back out of our friendship. I'm not sad anymore though. I'm fucking pissed, and I have been trying for years to not be an angry person anymore. Where do I put all of this energy? My boyfriend hears me yap all the time, and he doesn't know what to tell me. He feels like he is in the same  boat with his friends so it's like .."yay, we get to be pathetically lonely, together!!!......what should we do tonight?" Then we play pool on two separate computers because we've out played each other at the bar.

I guess this post is my first attempt at trying to find friends online. I am a frequent user of tumblr and rookie, and I see all of the friends that have been made through them. I wanna make friends!!! Haha.
If you feel like talkin' or reblogging each other's shit, that would be cool.

Again, hi, I'm Elektra. What's your name?

Tavi Gevinson Saved My Life

For a while now I've been trying to adapt to my new life of being a 20 something in a big city, making time for school, friends, art, family and everything in between such as eating and sleeping. Instead of adapting and wrapping my head around what I had to juggle, I got myself into pit of depression that I never thought I'd get out of. I stopped going to school, I stopped having friends, I stopped sewing, painting and writing and I hardly ever saw my family. My days consisted of sleeping, dreaming, nightmaring, and avoiding human contact at any cost. My drinking started to become heavier and heavier and I smoked more cigarettes than ever.
The loneliness that harbored my existence started to drown me and I was puffy eyes everyday from crying and self pity. I hated every girl I met just because they had the ability to smile and a reason to get up in the morning. I hated every boy I met because they did everything I wanted to do, but better (not really, we're talking about pessimistic me) .
I'm really tired of talking about how shitty I used to be so here's where the turning point comes in. I took a very .... tiresome trip to see my mother last year in January. My boyfriend and I went on a road trip from San Francisco to Las Vegas where she lives, and where I had nothing to tell her as an update in my life. After the awkward time with my mother passed and it was time to go home she gave me a few magazines to read on the way back.
Fashion is the one thing that I think pissed me off the most at that time, remember? I hated women, I hated how much more beautiful they were, how skinny they were and jealous I was that I could never be "a girl like that" . But I loved fashion unfortunately, since I was a young girl I distressed , ripped apart and safety pinned my clothes about.
 I learned how to sew when I was 8 and first used a machine when I was 11, so I started making bags and accessories for myself which turned into my making clothes for myself in high school. But I was no longer sewing in this bout of depression which I call my way too early life crisis.
It didn't take me long during the trip back to start flipping through my magazines to find an article to distract myself with. At the end of the magazine I found a one page article with a tiny little fashion blogger that was dressed just the way I used to in high school, I read the interview and fell in love with her views on today's fashion magazines and her love for feminism, vintage and flower crowns.
As soon as I got back from the 8 hour trip from Vegas I googled the blogger "The Style Rookie" came up and I clicked.
There my life changed...well maybe not there because, I was green with envy. But that changed the more and more I read and saw her pictures. I was so impressed that she was just 14 and so well spoken, but then again when I was 14 I was all "listen to me, I know what I'm talking about!" Although I wonder if I actually did. I started checking in weekly, then daily, then one day a friend of mine came over.
Now I didn't talk about my love for Tavi before because, well I didn't know if anyone knew about her and I honestly thought everyone would laugh at me for looking up to such a tiny figure (little did I know, get it?) My friend had told me that I reminded her of this blogger that she likes, Tavi Gevinson. (excuse me) I was like "Oh my god!" and we talked about her all night. My friend had made my night by saying that I sound like a Tavi sort of sister when I talk (still one of the best compliments in my life). My friend told me about Rookiemag and that night I looked it up.
At this point I was feeling a little bit more comfortable with myself, but still not doing much of anything. I was sewing more and trying to start an etsy...I guess that's something. But I still was extremely depressed for some reason, and hated girls a little bit too.
A few weeks later I read more and more of Rookie mag and was starting to feel better and better, the writers, photographers, and members were all girls I would love to be friends with, if I weren't such a homebody bitch. Months go by and I read the article on girl hate. Holy crap, my whole world changed, I started viewing girls as my friends, equals and people to aspire to be rather than avoid and take up my life with jealousy. I learned to smile back at the girl I wanted to be, I learned to ....be confident. That girls weren't the enemy, it was the awful way I was viewing them.
Today I still read posts that inspire me to be a better person, and I know the whole thing is meant for teenage girls, it really helped me in this quest we call life. That even though there may be no justification in the end, I shouldn't let my journey down, nor anyone else's.
I may sound so fucking ater school special right now, but seriously it is much better to be inspired by those you aspire to be rather than avoiding anything "cool" or "hip" and just do what you fucking want to. Or else life sucks.
Read Rookiemag, it might change your life too.
http://rookiemag.com/
or Tavi's blog
http://www.thestylerookie.com/

Dusty Ballerina

I have been in love with ballerinas since those awesome books, remember Angelina Ballerina? And the book always came with a necklace with a charm of ballet slippers? Well my adoration for the all over pink tutu has lost me, but I am still in love with the beauty and strength these young womens gotz. I'm hoping this is before anorexia took it's boom.

Take a Walk in My Shoes

Hello, yes it's me the girl that wears floral boots and saddle made keds with sharpie, the girl whose highest heel is 2 inches, until now. I bought my first pair of high heels that takes a hideous amount of balance just to stand in. Five and a half inches, ladies! I am now 5'10" when I wobble down the street. This purchase is one of many "new Elektra" items that I am adding to my closet, my girlie side if you will. Pink lace peter pan collared top, bright mint flowey chiffon midi skirt, and various other items such as hair bows and basics from American Apparel have been the tender new apples of my eye candy. And then there were these.

My peep toe ankle strapped tan platform heels, my item I have been waiting for since I first laid eyes on Cher Horowitz, the item that I was waiting to prove to my dad that they were worth buying because "even if I don't know how to walk in them now, I'll learn". And I am learning, but I feel like my friends are reacting to this change of my mine. No not feel like, they are. Some good , some bad, some I have no idea but "okay"is my response.

My boyfriend doesn't like them because I'm taller than he is, but he likes that my city walk of 5 mph has slowed down. Another friend of mine told me he didn't care and it's awesome that I want to embrace my girlie side, which was cool. He even went to the bar with me to play pool and hardly noticed until he was drunk enough to realize I was now taller than him as well. My other good friend laughed when she saw me "You're wearing pink! And , oh my god! Look at those shoes!!". I took this as a compliment as it should have been coming from her.

But some other responses I can just feel, when someone keeps looking down with this look of "how are you walking in those? Why even bother?" But then again this is the same girl I got drunk with and watched Britney and Beyonce videos with. And I was like "That's why I bother". Cause I just like it, and I think that's the best way to describe and (hopefully I don't have to) defend the way I would like to dress myself.

I'm sorry, I'm a little over finding clothes on the ground and trying to piece them all together in a way that I can stand. That's fun to do, I mean when you find that really great piece and you know you can rock it. But I used to walk down the street just to find shit, that's what I called "shopping". But holy crap, remembering the days of going to Forever 21 with my dad and he would just sit down by the dressing room and give me an hour, those were the days!! Well one, I wasn't paying for it, but two, they had everything to make me look like a Spice Girl, a valley girl, or the tom boy that I used to be back when I'm talking about. So I never left with the English flag printed booty shorts, but I CHOSE my favorite bell bottom jeans and I got to TRY THEM ON AANNNDD find a pair IN MY SIZE!

Yeah, you don't think about that, huh. and wait wait wait right there, if you think I'm dissing vintage shopping , we're talking about a much bigger ballpark that I can't afford, so any piece I want there is out of the question. Seriously, I live in San Francisco, best cheap vintage I can find is on the internet and Thrift Town which is now raising their prices. RIP Thrift Town.

So back to shopping, I just don't want you to think I totally and only endorse corporate shopping, only sometimes cause it's just so fucking affordable. And that's something I'm up the wall jealous about when it comes to these new kid city slickers, rents paid for them as long as they answer mom's call. Jealous moment over.

I am completely happy with my new shoes, my new look and myself. That hardly happens, so it kinda sucks when my buddies look at my like a slut, I'm wearing tights and a midi skirt! So not slutty! And hey, I'm still wearing my kitty cat pentagram t-shirt!

Don't judge me, or I guess in one's words (not mine!) "Don't bro me, if you don't know me". I promise I will never say that again!

I wanna kick ass for a living

Here I am again, writing about something, hopefully. Every morning for a few months now I've been waking up with the same lurking feeling that keeps me in bed, "what is it all worth?" I find myself justifying my laziness and my affair with sleeping in and staying up late. Why is the first thing I do when I get out of my slumber, my deep beautiful dreams, is go on facebook? I'm choosing to torture myself by doing this, yet I do it every morning.
Here is where I see my dreams buried in the hands of other lives. She's happily married with a cute ass baby, he is playing shows all over the u.s. and just popped in the let me know and "p.s. fuck you". She is catching a flight to New York for a photo shoot of this years "favorite 30 under 30". Oh and great! Pictures of your new art show, what a beautiful gallery.
Of course I am more supportive than this and at least press "like" when I men to say "jealous" and I'll in the very least comment back with a "fuck you" to the flashy, in your face updates. But I can't deny that all of this sudden information quickly blows my reality out of the water just as I'm trying to come back to it.
Then I sit here. What the hell do I have to say about my life that would compare to anything that these people are doing, my life is like an instagram of last night's dinner in your feed compared to the people you must know. Yes, I see the loads of comments you get as well, "way to go, you kick ass" "your my hero" "you rule", and I'm impressed, not one from a family member. I guess this is where I should thank my step-mom for liking my little progress in life-Thanks, Soizic!
I write one thing, delete it immediatly because I don't want to come off as too negative. I write something else, and of course delete it because it sounds so fucking fake. I try one more time and delete it because, who the fuck wants to hear from me?
I have a phone for 2 reasons, Solitare and so that my boyfriend can let me know when he's coming home late from work, which is practically every night since he's the manager. So with me saying this-why do i include checking my phone in my morning routines? Well, seems useless enough, sure I'll do that.
I need to cut these things out because I am destroying my own dreams in the process. I'm already giving myself a heap of doubt, as it is, somewhere I think "these people must have been handed this opportunity" but of course we all know that's not true, and if you think it is ...well no, most of them worked for it and didn't chose to let those that they aspire to be similar to in success bring them down. Instead they're all, hey I wanna take pictures for a living and kick ass, so she does so. He's like "I can play any instrument you put in front of me, sure I'll go on tour with you" and well, the girl with the handsome husband and beautiful baby girl are just fucking lucky lol.
So today I'm changing the things I don't like about myself. First of all, I just made a new friend, you, and instead of gloating and writing my own sob story I'm actually going to work on that sob story script of mine and get all of this shit out of me. This is the day I say "I wanna make movies for a living and kick ass, try and stop me" -fuck why did I check facebook again? Just kidding!
My life won't change in a day, especially if I do nothing with every single one. Wish me luck! Oh and in me trying to "better" myself I'm going to try to scratch facebook from my morning routine and instead add blogging to either morning or night routine. Gotta get into it to see which works better for me.
Thanks guys,
Elektra

Baby Gummy Bear

Hello,
So I've been trying out a new writing style, as you may know. I'm trying to a little bit more free with my writing, not to be offensive, just real, and if it offends some people then well hell..we're all assholes to someone for something. Here's a little something I wrote today, I feel like there are a lot of typos, so if so. I'm sorry!!!! So sue me...wait can you actually do that???? Anyways....enjoy :)


I woke up today at 1:36 pm to the sound of pre pubesent chuckling from the room mate next door. I tried despratly to stay asleep. Brian had already left and I was struggling my way through a confusing dream. I had a dream that I had a baby, a real life 9 lb 4 oz baby. A baby that chuckled when I tickled it, cried for me when I let the room, fell asleep in my arms. I held it's head as I put it to rest.
And then all of a sudden I had a green gummy bear that somehow represented the baby. I took a bite for some reason and then I flipped the fuck out because I thought I had just eaten the head off of my baby, the same head that I had just carefully laid to rest. It was now in my stomach. I knew I shouldn't have read that article about the naked man eating some guys face off.
I spent the rest of the dream scrambling aorund asking people if they knew what I had just done "Is this normal, was I supposed to do that? Is that part of parenting? Will it grow back?" were some of the questions I bombarded random middle class folks in the background of my brains atmosphere.
I tried to stay asleep to make sure the baby grew back. I waited aorund day and night for what seemed like weeks but were merely a few minutes. It's head never grew back, and I decided to wake myself up from this awful dream, not to mention the giggling room mates weren't making the dream less easy to escape.
It was haunting though, to hear them. I couldn't, for some reason, stop thinking about what I had done. I knew it wasn't real, but I'm talking about those very few first moments when you wake up and your questioning weather or not that dream about you becoming a witch was really true and if your cat can actually talk. For those first few moments of this morning I wanted to ruin the laughter, I thought they were laughing at my loss, but thankfully the moment lasted only 4 seconds, tops.
Instead my head filled with my inner parent waiting at the front door for me to come home, only the parents in my head are waiting for me to come back to sobrity until they start to yell at me, reminding me of the fool I really am.
"I can't believe you said that to her, what were you thinking? I hope she doesn't remember" and " God I hope he doesn't think I meant to do that, it was totally an accident" or my favorite, the ever-so confiding parent "your such a fucking dumb ass, how do you have friends?"
Luckily I didn't really do anything last night, so when I tried to catalogue through the recent events, no evidence was collected, but it was replaced with other evidence from the night before last.
I scanned my room for any trace evidence of an attempted disaster, none taken. Only empty 40 oz bottles cuddled around various chairs along the room and my clothes from the day before.
I eventually got myself up, but all day this dream has been getting to me, and for lack of embarrassment if I had told someone else, I told you instead. Keep it a secret, and let's never talk of it again. I hate being good at that.

Giveaway Winner!!!

I have chosen a winner at random.......the winner will be announced shortly :)

The Giveaway of the Century!!! Thanks to Brian Oliveira!

Hey there,

So I've been trying to think of a really good giveaway gift for you guys, but I just couldn't decide on anything in particular…..until now. 

I have decided to give away everything I've been wanting to use as a gift into one gift package for a lucky follower of my blog. 

Yup, that's it, that's the prize…An original screen print design on a  t-shirt/tank top, and of course a infamous "no slow jams" measuring tape bow and necklace to go along with the awesome-ness of the shirt, a mix tape of ( I promise you) really fun dance worthy music ..no lady gaga, sorry folks. In addition to my crafts, I will include a zine or two.

But!!! The part of the prize that I am excited about the most is an original screen print that has been hand painted by the best artist I know, Brian Oliveira. Brian is a Santa Cruz native that now lives in San Francisco, where he finds his inspiration for his realistic somewhat gruesome take on life in his paintings. 

He has been drawing since he could pick up a pencil, and with that recently graduated from he Academy of Art University. I am soooo excited he agreed to be a part of this giveaway because he runs out of his prints so fast, I figured he wouldn't want to just give them away. But thankfully he has a soft spot for local creators! :) 

Brian also has an etsy page, as well as a couple of blogs , one of which is featured on the side of mine, but just to be thorough here are the links again

briclops.etsy.com

http://trashburycomics.blogspot.com/

trashbury.tumblr.com

So all you have to do to be entered into this game is follow my blog (and Brian's for extra points) And just give no slow jams a like on Facebook @

http://www.facebook.com/clementinesattic

Thanks everyone!!!! 

STAINS

I've been wondering lately why it is I set myself such a high bar and expect to climb over it somehow within a day, and if I don't my lack of self confidence goes even further down until I put myself in a rut of utter self hatred and pity. I don't mind the self hatred, it's the pity that I hate. Why should I find myself pitiful if I don't succeed as quickly as others? 

And that's what it really is, I've been in a state of envy for months on end with a girl I am friends with on the old (yup you know it) Facebook. Every time I check, which is far too often, there's something new she has to tell everyone about her awesome life. About going to shows, HER art shows, her publicity features, her new professionally published zines, then I realize I have nothing to say for myself. I am just sitting here..on Facebook, checking it yet again. I'm not saying she's not awesome, cause she is.

That's the trouble, I see other girls that are awesome and I get scared to remotely be inspired rather than begrudging the person. It's easy for me to love famous girls and be inspired, for some reason it feels like a made up character that I'm supposed to love, someone was created for me to be inspired by, but in all reality those girls are just normal girls too, but when I actually know some one and I can physically shake hands with them, or electronically poke them, it seems like since they are in my reach the same opportunities should be in that same distance for me too. 

Do I think I reserve it? of course not, another problem of mine. Self worth. Some times, like these times, I need to stop interacting with my world and look around at it. On my right, my beautiful singer sewing machine awaits tomorrow for me to use it again, I am surrounded by amazing prints to work with, I look up to see a full rack of mix tapes I had made along with a tape of my band and another tape I had an awesome time helping to put together, a whole night dedicated to making tiny little paper bags and finishing them off with 2.25 stickers that we had saved up over the years. to the left of that my drawings hang, flipping me off for not believing in myself (and that's what I drew) to my left, my favorite cat int eh world sleeps until I'm done with the computer and then she will come and cuddle up with me while we watch t.v.. In my room also a book case with all of the zines I had made, under that a trunk full of dresses that I've made. And then about now I'm saying what the fuck? I should be int he paper! Why aren't people paying any attention to all of the work I put into my art? Uh oh- here it comes-….does it all just really suck?

No! You get e-mails from around the world from girls telling you how amazing your work is, how much they want everything in your store, how they want to be doing what I'm doing. And there it is- it hits me. I want to be the inspiring girl, I don't want to be in the public eye, I just want to inspire the girls that get there, and hey if I make it along the way than hooray. but does that mean I can't be inspired by other girls? No, why do I think that way? I'm scared of being notice, I'm frightened that someone might see my impersonation of another girl and think "she's not her own person" or " why can't she act like herself ever?". I'm forever acting like myself, only myself is a hermit, a shy shy hermit, and how do you show who you really are that way? 

So I'm making a firm decision to start a magazine I've been dreaming about for about a year now called "Stains" mostly for accidental self conscious broke girls, a magazine for girls to read and feel good about themselves afterward. Fashion magazines hardly bring me up when giving me advice to keep my boyfriend in the bedroom, or style tips for an outfit under $100, and other alternative magazines make me feel like I'm doing something wrong with my life by staying in for the night, almost every night, and they make me feel uncomfortable after seeing pages of half naked slutty hipster girls that started their careers in American Apparel ads.

 I just want to see a normal girl, a girl that loves fashion, music, food, friends, life, love but also has a normal life. School on Mondays from 1-4 and Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays from 6-9 pm, she studies at home, hangs out with friends on the weekends, has pet peeves, poops, eats meat, and doesn't think she's the hottest shit in the city. A girl that is inspired by inspiring other girls, that's who I want to meet, and already I have a great crew, a couple of great friends of mine have agreed to help me with this project, and of course they are those same girls I was just talking about. Hopefully you'll find this inspiring and would like to send in an article, everyone is accepted :)

This month we are looking for articles , art, photography, fashion photography , etc…from girls (or boys) on Inspiration. Anything you would like, if it's inspiration from within, from another girl, a famous person, your mom, your inspiration wall, anything will be accepted. Have fun 

Please send your articles to:

Rambuncious_child@hotmail.com

or e-mail for P.O. box # if you have a hard copy

Thank You!!!

SPRING BREAK!!!

I'm so excited that it's spring break! I can finally get back to my life and clean up my house. I've been spending countless hours on movie projects (mind you all fun of course) but it has taken a toll on my everyday life.
I've noticed my routine before leaving the house, same old torn up jacket pockets lined with tobacco, fake fur collar dreading together, my same old backpack cluttered with my cat's hair and ..well more tobacco. My roots have grown out 3 inches, so that's something to clean up along with my house. And don't get me started on all of the dishes I have to do!
And hey! I got a laptop, so if your lucky..I might write everyday. I'd like to write up some scripts and see what whoever reads this thinks of it. The last project I worked on was a group project for school, we had specific names, props and lines we needed to use in the script and we were given the genre "film noir" . Oh! I was soo excited to get film noir, I went above and beyond, wrote a 10 page script, spent 7 hours filming, and same amount of time editing. But it was worth it, I was extremely proud of the out come and the rest of the class was impressed, which is not was I was trying to achieve, but I like the sound of it.
I'll try to upload it as soon as possible.
So fashion wise I've been trying to keep cute, but going to the Ocean campus at CCSF everyday means layer after layer, which in turn leaves me leaving the house with two pairs of tights under skinny jeans, a couple of t-shirts layered under my oversized grandma style cat sweater hidden under my rotten coat.
Music wise, I've also been ignorant in that department. I haven't been listening to too much punk, which is weird for me. I just haven't been able to stand it lately ..don't know what happened. I've been listening to a lot of Lavern Baker, Judy Garland, Mozart,Andrew Jackson Jihad, Fiona Apple....and I don't see a theme, unless maybe you do?
I'm trying to figure out a way to download music without getting in trouble or downloading a virus. But when I get to that point I have no idea what I want to listen to. I really need some new music though. Kinda going insane with all of the rock n' roll my boyfriend's been downloading. it's just not where I am right now. I mean of course I have a listen to crass and some blink, but not as much as my usual self.
Well I really just wanted to update ya'll and let you know I am trying harder to say what's up to you guys! I will do another post tomorrow with some new pictures of what I've been working on
for now...see ya!
and happy spring break!

New Screen Prints!!!

 Okay, so if you pay attention you might be wondering why i hardly ever write on my blog. ..it's cause i'm doing this stuff instead. Although writing is a complete joy, I can't seem to push myself to log into the account, press create new post, and find pictures and things to talk about. But here I am, cause I care.

I want you all to know I've been too obsessed with inverted crosses and always have been obsessed with cats, so i put my hands together (friends reference for who ever gets that..the one where joey eats all the jam monica makes) . 

I just wanted to show ya'll that I haven't forgot you! I've been working on this cause I love you! 

Back to College with Skins.

I want to meet this lady....no name though. bugga' best face to decorate the walls of city college, i feel like this is just for me. 

 First day of rain in a while, liked how the oil looked in the parking lot puddles. 

 fooling with the camera in the rain at school. 

 I'm i love with this shot, I'm obsessed with beautiful trashy-ness and this shot reminds me of this dream I had of a group of people that had hair like they came back from a weekend at Versailles, and dressed like they had partied hard there as well. Torn skirts, blood stains and black eyes. They were having a yard sale of all this random crap like toy space guns and bubbles. I woke up from that dream thinking "man those kids were so cool" and then i started to really wake up and realized it was a dream, and that I had the rights to recreate that...one day...somehow. But this shot slightly reminds me of that dream.

 Tried to get some clips from the intro, some of the best ones are hidden in there

 cassie's wonderfully shimmering hair

 pandora "my mum wants to know what were picking up"

effie "drugs"

 goddess 

 simple beautiful shot. 

 When I was in Dover, I found a t-shirt that had a big bow printed on it just like this and I was s stoked to not only have a cassie shirt but to have gotten it in England was (pardon my language) tiiiiggghhhtt.

Looking like a character from steel magnolias is the trend in institutions I'm assuming. that's cool fucking love that look.