When I Was Fourteen...

I had two diaries.

I thought Reese Witherspoon could run for president

All of my clothes came from the Charlotte Russe clearance racks and Old Navy

My allowance was 10.00 a week

My friends and I had a collective Myspace that only we would comment on

All of my lip gloss had sparkles in it

I hung out with high school seniors

I finally got my braces off

I seriously considered taking high school online

Looks like there's a reason the past shouldn't be revisited.

New music to your right!

Your (adult) electric bird,
Erika

Ohai Survey!

I don't know what a meme is (and nope, I'm not bothering to find the meaning of it) but whatever it is, I guess it's like a survey. Or something. But I found a popular one on the internet and since a) I don't know what else to talk about besides myself, and b) no one reads this shit anyway, I thought I would fill it out. You know, to make me sound kind of interesting or something.

My Foundation: Don't wear any. But if I abso have to, it's MAC Studio Fix. Apply that shit with a blush brush instead of the sponge pad and it'll last you all day.
My Mascara: L'Oreal Panoramic Curl. It's a bit craptastic, but I love how black it is.
My Blush: MAC blush in Blushbaby
My Eye Shadow: I don't wear eyeshadow, but when I do it's this plum-y color I bought back when I was in middle school. The container is like nondescript. I think it's probably N.Y.C. since that's all I could afford.
My Day Cream: Oil Of Olay, the dry skin version. Which is kind of weird 'cos my skin's sort of oily but I keep buying the dry skin one.
My Lipstick: MAC lipstick in Brick. Or Maybelline lipstick in Nude Blush. It just depends on how much I care about my appearance that day.
My Beauty Product Brand: Rimmel London. It will make you look like Kate Moss, no lie.
My Essential Beauty Product: Eyeliner. Everyday, two colors: navy on the bottom lid and emerald on the top.
My Favorite Makeup Product: Makeup removing sponges. I use mine to smudge my eyeliner.
My Perfume: Princess by Vera Wang, or for special occasions, Burberry Brit.
My Nails: (I'm assuming this means polish, since only anal people use nail cream) Nothing. Ever since middle school, my piano teacher didn't let me paint my nails and now I'm just used to it.
My Feet: N.Y.C. Taxi Cab. Yellow on tan skin is fabbbb!
My Hands: Cetaphil. Yep, just Cetaphil.
Three Products to bring on a Deserted Island: Eyeliner, blush, and Chapstick!
Woman I admire for her beauty: Twiggy...her eyes were gorgeousie!
Woman with the Best Sense of Style: Charlotte Gainsbourg. Everything she wears, no matter what it is, looks tailored for her style. Also Basia Bulat because she looks like an APC advert all the time.
My Ultimate Dream: To become completely content with my life.
How Do I Define Womanhood: Confidence.
My Favorite Fashion Publication: Missbehave!

Your (fresh faced) electric bird,
Erika

You Wanna Be On Top?

Tyra Banks: Delusional headcase or entrepreneurial and marketing mastermind?

You be the judge.
(Also this is to distract from the fact that I don't really have anything else to write and this question has been mulling around in my head after watching seven seasons of ANTM)

Your electric bird,
Erika

I Missed The Boat

Ugh, you and I both, Modest Mouse. You and I both. So if you're reading this and find yourself in need of a little backstory, I can help you out.

Missbehave Magazine, the holy grail/sacrilegious shrine of women's mags and badassery is holding this contest-y thing. I read a post about it awhile back but was all like, "Pssshhh. Okay." And I said it (mentally) in this really douchebag-gy mocking voice. I'm not proud of it, okay? But then I read some way later posts (in lieu of studying for my European History exam) and suddenly I felt like the douchebag from Split Ends.

Turns out MissBH (my new abbrev for the fabulousness) needed some more contributors and they were looking for rad chicks to come guest blog some shit! Just the kind of thing I would j'adore seeing as I read MissBH religiously and completely know how to speak and write awesomely. (And sometimes I can do both, but I have to have a clear head for that, which doesn't happen a lot.) The point is, instead of sitting here wasting my education and eating all my Bazooka bubblegum (shit...all gone, nevermind) I could be chitchatting with the best and brightest bitches on the coast. But when opportunity knocked, what did I do? Toss it like a salad. And now I'll have to sit in sad regret/tragic rue-ance while some American Apparel chick with lens-less glasses, suspenders, and a pair of Toms gets to half-assedly write about some less-than-sweet shit just 'cos she beat me to the jump.

Life is unfair. I'm gonna go paint or something. Hey, maybe I can get all angsty like that Juno girl and people might suddenly find my sarcasm endearing. Okay, maybe not. Shit.

By the way, if you need to fully understand the merits of lensless glasses, um, Dominic Andrews can help you out. Actually, he can also tell you other meaningless shit on his little Stickam thingy. Sometimes the internet is scary.



Your electric bird,
Erika

I'm A Jealous Woman

Okay, so since I'm a complete advocate of modern, AWEsome music (Crystal Castles, Pissed Jeans, The National, i.e. bands that sound like the 21st century), it's probably expected of me to ONLY like those kinds of groups. I mean, yeah, I go see Be Your Own Pet and Arctic Monkeys and Club Awesome and Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin because the oldies and greats don't go on tours with 15.00 tickets, y'know? K good.

So with that said, I do also love music from the 60's-80's. I'm a huge sucker for retro girl groups and female singers like the Pleasure Seekers, Suzy Clark, Sunforest, etc. I also really love the Ramones and the Buzzcocks and other fabbity fab bands from "back when."

But never have I had so much lust/un-godly love for one song as much as this one.

The woman: Gunilla Thorn, a Scandinavian goddess with a cheeky smirk and a weird chin. This woman was a straight powerhouse of soul and feeling. Homegirl was a bad motherfucka, ladies and gentleman.

The song: "Jealous Woman" It was released in 1966 on the Jealous Woman/Our Love single and then sent into obscurity. But this song, my god, has so much passion and AWEsomeness to it; it's hard to not feel the fierceness that's just emanating from this woman. It's mad decent!

I can't post it on here because the song is nowhere to be found, both bit-rate-wise and physical vinyl-wise. I even scoured eBay for the album...the thing is tooo obscure to be found. Among searches on Yahoo! I've found some random links in languages I don't speak and a couple of references to Joe Meeks, who was Thorn's producer for a bit. She's on some compilations, but none with that song. As it actually turns out, from a bit of heavier digging, "Jealous Woman" can be found on a weirdly obscuro comp that you have to order from a website in Denmark. It's like 129,000 DKK. What currency is that even?

"Jealous Woman" can actually be found here, but this is sort of it.

Anyone know anything about a more domestic solution?

Your electric bird,
Erika

Homeless Soccer

I am MOST DEFINITELY going to update tomorrow after National Record Store Day, but in the meantime, tide your sad selves over with this AWEsome video:



From superdeluxe.com, one of the sponsors of Record Store Day! Whoohoo!

Your electric bird,
Erika

O Hai!

Damn, this cheese is good. I mean really good. These microwaveable mac 'n cheese cups are THE SEX. And they're cheap. No wonder black people die of heart disease so much.

Hmmm...moving on, I've noticed there's like this weird sort of interplay between "old" (over 22) people and "young" (18-21) people. "Young" people are hip, can talk with fake British accents to assert their hipster status, and wear head to toe vintage that they paid far too much for while working in Urban Outfitters and biding their time till they can drink legally, all while chugging down the PBR their "old" roommate bought last week. In turn, "old" people can speak sagely about experiences they have yet to experience, try to figure out life for themselves while telling everyone else how to live theirs, buy wine from the liquor store (hoping the clerk asks for ID, though they know they will), and biding their time till they can either rent a car or run for president.

"Old" people like talking about Earth, Wind, and Fire nostalgically, even though they only know them 'cos their parents played the 45's during childhood.

"Young" people like wearing Earth, Wind, and Fire on a throwback tee they bought at The Kids Are Alright in Echo Park.

"Old" people like to wistfully remember riding the bus to work, to school, and to clubs at midnight in the inner city.

"Young" people like to ride the bus at midnight in the inner city, only to catch a cab from wherever they got off just so they can go to Starbucks the next morning and tell their friends they've ridden the bus at 12:00 am in the inner city.

It's obvious there's a generation gap between slightly old and new. Even with my boyfriend and I, who are only five years apart, sometimes it seems like I'm dating my older, wiser brother. But there's still a generation gap and I'm not looking to bridge it. I don't care if my coworker grew up on Blossom and I grew up on Full House. I had a bomb ass childhood and I can actually remember the first episode of Rugrats, 'cos I was there when it premiered. Oh well, I can't say I was there when Michael Jackson's hair caught on fire. But I can say I was there when Michael Jordan did Space Jam.

The same gap exists between my age group, the "young" and the "younger", but you don't see any 18 year-olds watching Hannah Montana and saying, "Damn, I remember when her father came out with the 'Achey Breaky Heart', and was on Doc." We know we're better without having to constantly validate our feelings.

Is anyone right? Nah. Is anyone wrong? Mmmm...maybe. I do know that I will for totally outlast all these hipster chicks that like to chase their Pabst with a Marlboro. Why? Porque I was born after the 50s and I know what it can do to you. Hah!

Your electric bird,
Erika