Tuesday, March 27, 2012

I Dare You To Stop Singing This Song. That's Right, You Can't

Feeling depressed? Need to dance? This video of Carly Rae Jepson's impossibly catchy song, Call Me Maybe, is ALL OVER THE KNOWN UNIVERSE.

There are many versions and this one features Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez and Ashley Tisdale. But every kid in the free world is making their own. Watch it and you'll see why.

That's right, Justin Bieber, yo.


Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Girl With No Forehead Hair

Mom was going through her files and found a large one filled with letters from me. She kept the letters but mailed me the things she found inside them. I'm fairly certain I enclosed a hundred dollar bill in each of the 240,000 letters I sent her over a lifetime but she begs to differ.

I have no idea when I sent her this but she was in Paris at the time and I was living in Washington D.C. I was in the experimental stages of figuring out how to spell my name as you can see from the SUSY. I wonder if I sent her any 4 leaf clovers that said, "FROM THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD ACROSS THE STREET, THE ONES WE DON'T LIKE. Picked by Susie!"

This photo landed me in the office of a big commercial agent in New York. I walked in and the first thing he said was "Oh dear."

I can still feel my heart sink to my stomach from that day.

"Your picture led me to believe that you'd be a perfect character actress and I was so excited because I knew you'd get lots of work. However, in person, you're not funny looking at all. You're actually too pretty to be a character actress but YOU'RE NOT PRETTY ENOUGH TO BE THE STAR."

You know how some critiques stick in your head forever?

I have no idea where this picture was taken. I'm wearing a long black leather coat that my sister bought me in Istanbul, Turkey. I also have no other pictures that would give me a clue so...welcome to Long Coat Black Leather Suzy.

This is one of the only pictures of me where I don't have bangs. Again, NO IDEA where it was taken or where I was at the time. I want to say it was taken in Paris because after I left San Francisco I showed up in Paris with a very short hairdo. So this might have been the growing out phase?

That pin on my right lapel, a little diamonique star, left as you're looking at the photo, was given to me by the heroin addict that was my boyfriend in San Francisco. I didn't know that he'd stolen it from his mother until I wore it to her house one day and she informed me it was hers. I immediately removed it and offered it back to her but she wouldn't accept it. I told her that her son had given me other pieces and described them and they were all hers. Her son was such a troubled person that I believe she was just happy he had someone in his life who loved him. I still have the pin, and the other pieces, all from the 1940's.

Many years later he went to prison.

Looking back at pictures, the first thing I do is assess my hair. Long Coat Black Leather Suzy hadn't started bleaching her hair yet so the ash blond looks dark and goes with my coat. The Oh Dear Suzy had curled her stick straight uncurlable hair and the result was that both sides looked so different that the photographer suggested I put one side up so that it wouldn't be so obvious. Meanwhile, back at Obvious Ranch, it's SO OBVIOUS.

Forehead Free Suzy doesn't even look like me. When it first tumbled out of the envelope I wondered who it was. I see my Russian grandfather in that photo and later pictures of my mother, but to me it looks like someone else. Someone who could be the star of the show IF SHE DAMN WELL PLEASED.

Monday, March 19, 2012

L.A. Sign Of The Times #97

I went to a party on Sunday. Old friends who I hadn't seen in many, many years. My sister was invited because she's also old. Please don't tell her I said that because I'm going to ask her for a loan.

I wish I could tell you who was there but I can't. So instead I'll focus on this lovely home that looks so wee in a picture but inside? Isn't! So. Fabulous. It helps that the owner has exquisite taste and like a lot of L.A. homes, this one was decorated to within an inch of its California life. An ode to a peaceful existence among the traffic, the smog and the movie stars.

After I arrived I looked up and noticed the mind blowingly architecturally dumbfounding Pacific Design Center was right behind her house.

If you're unfamiliar with the Pacific Design Center, it's where every gorgeous thing ever invented for home decor lives. It's the Louvre for decorators. I went in there once and was asked to leave as apparently crying on the sofas is forbidden.


Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Three's The Charm

I've lived in my new apartment for almost 8 months. But it looks like I moved in 2 weeks ago because of all my artwork lying against the walls. My mother gave me my first piece, an enamel of an owl because my nickname in our family was The Night Owl, when I was only 16 and I've amassed a large collection since then. Last year, when I thought I was going to be homeless, my only real concern was my art collection. I even went so far as to make a list of who would get each piece. I typed the list crying. (that line added for sympathy)

In my last apartment each of the pieces was carefully curated and hung in the right spot and that means I just stuck it where there was a blank space on a wall. But now all the walls are blank and it requires some forethought as to style, grouping, colors. Bedroom? Living room? I asked for some forethought for Christmas but didn't get any. If any children are reading this, THERE IS NO SANTA CLAUS.

But that isn't the only problem with the move. Out of all the things I packed, there were missing items.

1. The electric shaver. I found the charging base but not the shaver. I shuffled the charging base from one area to another, hoping that when I one day opened up that particular hiding place, the shaver would have magically materialized and be sitting in its base. And of course from the moment I discovered it missing all I wanted to do was shave my legs via electricity. I eventually found it tucked into a side pocket of a Betsey Johnson purse, shoved high up on a shelf. Six months after I moved in. Obviously I'm over the Betsey Johnson if I didn't use it for 6 months. I can't imagine under what circumstances I decided to put it inside a pocket of that purse. To keep the purse company in the move 1.7 miles from my old home? When I see my Alzheimer's counselor next week I'll ask him what he thinks happened. I'll also ask my Alzheimer's counselor what he thinks happened when I see him next week.

2. The sign. I had it on my front door in the old apartment complex and it really cut down on the vicious menu-delivery people who bring food to one apartment and then make the rounds of the rest of the place, brandishing those cheap menu print-outs like weapons, clogging screen doors and forcing tenants to scream obscenities at people who don't even speak English because who else would take a job like that? Not Americans! God forbid! I did, however, have a celadon Buddha I bought in South Korea stashed in the planter outside the door (see photo) so before the police arrested me for that concealed weapons signage they might stop and think that I was a disciple of Mother Teresa. I know you all believe that.
I finally found the sign wedged in a box of paintings I haven't unpacked. I put it on my balcony so the squirrels won't get any bright rodentia ideas and pull up in their little moving vans when I'm not home.
Although I would pay good money to see a squirrel moving van.

3. The 32 gig back-up hard drive. When I bought it I had no idea how big 32 gigs was. I had a general idea. I knew it could hold a lot of data. Like the Magna Carta or the Gutenberg Bible. But it's not until I plugged it in and hit one of the many buttons that were written in computerese that I realized I didn't even have 7 gigs of data. Or 5. I'm not sure I had 1.

So when I came home this week and couldn't boot the computer I had an epic meltdown. First, I'd have to buy a new one with non-existent money but second, HOW DO I TRANSFER THE DATA OFF THE DEAD COMPUTER? Oh I know! I'll get it off the missing 32 gig back-up hard drive!

So now I have to buy another one. Because as soon as I do I'll find the missing one because THAT'S HOW LIFE WORKS AND THERE'S STILL NO SANTA CLAUS.

Tuesday, March 06, 2012

Enough Already With The Log-Ins And The Sign-Ups And The Comment Moderations

Someone nominated me for something. This person was also nominated. I tried to vote for her and in the time it took me to locate my password (which I didn't find) get my screen name right (never happened even with an underscore) or tried to sign in via Twitter (I'm not registered as Suzy Soro) or Blogger (they said I'm not a member of blogspot (are you fucking kidding me?) or Facebook (it's only a fan page and I still hate them) I went out on my balcony and tried to decide whether to jump or move to Albania, where they probably don't have the internet. (don't write me if they do and I'd like to apologize in advance to Albania if they have the internet) (I'm mainly apologizing if you also have to do the sign-up log-in type 2 words to make sure you're not a bot thingamajig)

So where did these passwords and log-ins disappear to? They're probably in one of the millions of emails from websites (in the 16 online filing cabinets I've kept over the years AND NO I'M NOT A HOARDER PUT DOWN THE PHONE TO A & E)  where they've answered my question: WHAT THE FUCK IS MY PASSWORD LOG-IN INFORMATION?

I'm not posting a link to where you could vote for me because you'll need to sign up for an account or vote via Twitter, Blogger, Facebook or your Cap'n Crunch cereal box. And I like you too much for that.

I will never vote on a site that makes me sign up for an account and in the past I've sent the following form letter to all the bloggers who've asked me to vote for them on some variation of Make Me Famous Please I'm Desperate.com:

I don't want another password. I have over 87. I don't want another account. I have over 255. Don't reply to this form letter and admonish me for not duplicating passwords on multiple accounts BECAUSE I ALREADY DO THAT. I've been online since 1998. Please do that math. I'm sure you'll win without my vote because you're the prettiest.

I'm done.