Category Archives: Rants of Darkness

It’s Just Not Professional

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I’ve done business with some really amazing people and have gotten a good deal of repeat business from Craigslist. I’ve also met various inconsiderate jerks. For example: This week I answered an ad to shoot a wedding on the 7th. I was thrilled when I got a response asking if I was available and what my prices were. I sent a quick reply. About a day later, I received another email stating they would go with my lower priced package. They included the address of the chapel and asked if I wanted a money order or a cashiers check. Once again, I replied quickly. At this point, I didn’t have a contact number or a time for the wedding. A day passed. And then another. As time was of the essence, I wrote a quick note to this man stating that I was missing important information and could he send it to me. I waited another two days. Nothing. Finally, on Thursday, I wrote yet another email asking for the same information. Not a word. On Friday, I wrote a letter which explained my dilemma and said that I was under the impression they’d hired me and that I would appreciate a response either way. Nothing. The wedding is tomorrow and I still haven’t heard a peep.

And this isn’t the first time this has happened. A few months ago, I was hired to shoot a Fall catalog for a small clothing company called IDI. They hired me. I was hired. I spoke with Melissa (several times) and another person named Richard, who confirmed I was hired. I even booked models per their request. I kept them updated every step of the way and waited to hear back. A week passed. I called the company and inquired about the shoot. A receptionist informed me that the shoot had already taken place and they had used another photographer. When I complained to Melissa, she told me that they never actually made a commitment to use me and that they were waiting for ME to get in touch with them. In fact, she acted as though I were imaging they hired me. Because everything had taken place over the phone, I didn’t actually have any proof. Now, I’m not sure why they went ahead without me after verbally committing, but it doesn’t matter. They should have let me know. I even complained to the head of the company who treated me like a nuisance. Later, just to be a bitch, I sent them an invoice for my lost time. Obviously, they never paid me.

Needless to say, in this, the age of communication, why do people find it difficult to communicate? How hard is it to send a one line email that states you’ve changed your mind? Furthermore, if you actually hire someone and end up not being able to commit, it’s only common courtesy to let that person know. What these inconsiderate assholes don’t understand is that they’ve hung me out to dry. I book the time, I hire talent, I set aside time, I prepare, I make plans, I lose money. I shouldn’t have to say it, but it’s rude and unprofessional. It’s just plain rude. If you make plans and can’t keep them, have the decency to cancel! It’s never OK to make someone wait, to put them out, or upset their schedule. I’m a human being and I think I deserve better. I realize that you’re busy, but it literally takes two seconds to send an email. There really is no excuse for ignoring someone you’ve hired to do a job. Besides the fact that I was really looking forward to each of these jobs, there is of course, the big let down.

Now, I understand things happen. Maybe the head of the clothing company promised his cousin he could have the job. Maybe the wedding got canceled. Thing is, I don’t know. All I have to go on is silence. To ignore someone as though they are insignificant? Why do people do this? I could answer this question simply by expressing that people are assholes. But I just don’t get it. I really try to reply to all the email I receive. I know what it’s like to be on the other end. I ignore the occasional email, but if I’ve made a commitment to someone and can’t keep it, I apologize left and right. I let them know I’m sorry and I try to make it up to them. I hate letting people down, even if I don’t know them. It’s just not cool to treat people like dirt. They should be ashamed of themselves.

I guess the internet makes it easy. There was a time when people RSVP’d for parties by hand written letter, when it was considered impolite to ignore a written request, when your word was your bond. In this day and age, people are just screen names and common courtesy just isn’t that common anymore.

Oh What a Night

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I woke up yesterday in such a good mood. I was going to see THE Frankie Valli with my Mom and JCS. A storm was brewing, but it wasn’t just the rain. I guess most families fall into the category of irrational and dramatic, so I can take comfort in knowing I’m not alone. Eh, I won’t go into it.

We arrived at The California Theater in San Bernardino, which is oddly beautiful considering it’s unfortunate geographical location. It was a brisk evening and we arrived a little early. I was in a bad mood due to earlier events and figured a Jack and Coke would fix me right quick. I went outside for a quick pre-show smoke, J&C in hand, I chatted with a true Frankie Valli fan who had seen Valli perform over 40 times and had actually met him.

The show started right on time. When Valli came out, he immediately charged into a 60 second rendition of “Dawn” and I couldn’t believe my eyes, was Frankie lip-synching? Was he? No. Couldn’t be. I kept watching and eventually determined he wasn’t. Dawn was over quicker than I would have liked. It’s my favorite Four Seasons song and I was a little bummed. It took me a while to get back into the groove, but I never fully recovered.

Throughout the show, Frankie was kind enough to oblige the half filled theater with fan favorites and several covers from a new album. Overall (and let me just get this out of the way) Frankie has a golden voice. He’s a living legend and seems like a stand-up guy. I grew up listening to the Four Seasons because my Dad loved them so. It’s really easy for kids to get into 60′s bubble-gum pop, except, I look back fondly at complaining that all my Dad listened to was old music. Of course, because it was hammered into my head, as I grew older and realized that “old” music is WHY we have new music, I grew to love and appreciate it. I especially love The Four Seasons because it reminds me of my Dad. It’s not just that. It’s really great music. Bob Gaudio, the mastermind behind all their songs, is a musical genius. I also recently saw Jersey Boys in Chicago and actually liked it.

I guess I expected more from the show. I mean, Frankie’s 74 years old, so I don’t know what I expected, actually. Have you ever been up late at night flipping channels and you stumble upon KCET public television pledge drive? They broadcast their concert series which are generally older bands from the 60′s or 70′s that take place in towns like San Bernardino. The hosts reminisce and tell you about the importance of supporting public television and that if you pledge a hundred dollars, you’ll get a tote bag and a CD. Back to the concert, KC and the Sunshine band or some other sad band that has nothing better going on. The cameras scan the audience and it’s filled with centenarians sitting there like lumps on logs, occasionally smiling and clapping their hands. Never standing and occasionally nodding off.

You get the picture? That was last night. Talk about the oldest crowd I’ve ever been amongst. Old, old, old. Old as shit. It was like the old age home had a field trip. Frankie Valli, because he himself is old, now has a foursome of young lads that sing and dance behind him. They’re freakin’ nuts. They were all over the place, bouncing, jumping, high fiving each other, doing moves that were obviously inspired by the 60′s, but looked more like a cheap theater production of a 60′s dance routine. A group of good looking, local boys, who looked like jocks that hurt themselves in highs school, had to leave the team, and got into theater as lark, and ended up touring with Franki Valli. Did I actually see chest bumping? I feel like I did. Their big moment came when each Dude got a turn in singing “December, 1963 (Oh What a Night)”. I guess Frankie can’t justify singing it himself because it was originally done by Gerry Polci and Don Ciccone. The Dudes, I swear to God, were doing (holy shit) hip-hop dance moves and kind of rapping out the song a bit. None of them could sing and it was awful, awful, awful. Fuck. And get this, the audience flipped! They loved it. As far as I was concerned, it was the worst part of the show.

Fine. I regrouped. I was pretty stoked when Frankie sang Grease, Sherry, and Big Girls Don’t Cry. Still, the audience just sat there. There were also various medleys thrown into the mix. I hate medleys. When Frankie asked the audience to clap, it was like pulling teeth. I figure their Metamucil kicked in during “Oh What a Night”, but wore off soon after. At one point, one lady stood up to dance, but looked around, saw she was the only one and sat back down. Good for you lady. I heard a “Fuck Yeah” from the back when “Walk Like a Man” came on, but otherwise, this was the most comatose audience I’ve ever been in. Comatose! I don’t care if you’re a hundred years old, this is a concert, and Frankie Valli is a fucking rock star! How do you forget what it’s like to be young? How often do you get to see a living legend? Stand up! Clap! Yell! I did and the lady in front of me kept getting annoyed. At one point, her husband had to comfort her. OMG.

Granted, the musical arrangements for these songs have metamorphosed into cheesy Las Vegas lounge versions and there are few reminders that you’re actually watching a Frankie Valli concert. It could have been a cover band, for all I knew.

Frankie was phoning it in. I hate to say it, but he was. JCS and my Mom will disagree, they loved it, but they’re both old ladies. I mean, when you’ve been singing the same songs for 40 years, I guess you lose some of that old enthusiasm. The problem is, it really looked like The Four Dudes were there to replace that lost vigor. That’s sad. Even though Frankie can’t dance and shake like he once did, he still has a beautiful voice. I guess it doesn’t help that the audience was snoring through more than half the show. That’s gotta be a bummer for any performer.

Everyone stood up after the first finale because they thought it was over and were giving their show-end standing ovation. Psyche! The band came back out and did 3 more songs. Naturally, now that you’re up, you can’t just sit back down, can you? That would be embarrassing. You stood, now you gotta hold your ground. Standing or not, the level of excitement was still low. Lights on, show over. The audience erupted in applause. Finally.

Was it the worst show I’ve ever seen? No. Like I said, despite all the bad, Frankie still sings like a king. The audience’s lack of enthusiasm was disheartening and I was confused. The modern musical arrangements ala Las Vegas isn’t my cup of tea, but the band was skilled. I can say that much. Will I ever see Frankie Valli play again? Probably not. I hated The Four Dudes. They killed it for me. I’d go see Jersey Boys again, because at least they sing the songs as they were intended and you get to see a reasonable facsimile of the band in their hey day.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to be disappointed by a Frankie Valli show and I don’t blame Frankie at all. He’s old and these ancient songs are his bread and butter. I’ll continue to listen to The Four Seasons because I love them and they deserve to be remembered as they were.

I’m about to become very wealthy

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I received this in my mail this morning:

From:JOSEPH JONATHAN
Spain, Europe.
Reply to: sfjonathan7@gmail.com
Dear Sir,
Permit me to inform you of my desire of going into business relationship with you. I got your name and contact from an international brochure because I do not know anybody I will contact. I prayed over it and believed that you will be a reputable and trust worthy person that I can trust and do business with, I must not hesitate to confide in you for this simple and sincere business assistance. I am Joseph Jonathan the only son of late Mr. and Mrs. Richard Mabel Jonathan of blessed memory.
My father until his untimely death was a very wealthy cocoa merchant in West Africa; my father was poisoned to death by his business associates on one of their outings on a business trip to our cocoa plantation in Abidjan a neighboring country from my country West Africa. My mother died when I was a baby and since then my father took me so special. Before the death of my father on 16th November, 2005 in a private hospital in Accra Ghana. He secretly called me on his bed side and told me that he has the sum of Five Million, Nine Hundred Thousand United State Dollars USD ($5,900, 000.00) he deposited with a private security firm in Spain, which he used my name his only son as the next of Kin in depositing of the money with the private security firm in Spain. The security firm is not aware that the box contains money and my father warned me to keep this as a top secret till I get a reliable foreigner that will assist me get the box out as his foreign partner. He also expla
Please, I am sincerely seeking your assistance in the following ways: (1) to assist me claim the box containing the money from the security company as my late father’s foreign partner. (2) To serve as a guardian of this fund. (3) To make arrangement for me to come over to your country to further my education and to secure a resident permit in your country because I cannot go back to my country till I am a full grown man.
Moreover, sir I will like you to tell me what you will take from the total sum as compensation for your effort/input after the successful release and transfer of this fund into your bank account in your country. Please you should indicate your interest towards assisting me by writing me an email at : sfjonathan7@gmail.com ,as I believe that this transaction would be concluded within seven days (7) days you signify interest to assist me. Please keep this proposal confidential.
Thanks and God bless.
Best regards,
Joseph Jonathan

What I love about these OBVIOUS scams is that they continue to become more and more colorful as the years progress. A wealthy cocoa farmer from Africa who was ultimately poisoned by a business partner. Joseph, his only son and only heir, was bequeathed Five Million, Nine Hundred Thousand United State Dollars, but for some reason, can’t take it out of the bank and needs my help.

map_of_cote-divoire

What’s funny is that if you don’t have any sense about you, you’d easily fall for something like this not realizing that Abidjan is a city and is actually located in the country of Côte d’Ivoire, in Western Africa. Furthermore, while Accra is in Ghana and a neighboring country to Côte d’Ivoire, I don’t think “West Africa” is actually a country. It’s like North America isn’t a country; it’s several countries. West Africa is comprised of 16 smaller countries.

I like how detailed these scams are providing dates, places, real looking email addresses, and a pretty dramatic sob story: Mother dies when he’s little, Dad was poisoned, and now he can’t get his inheritance. You think, I’m listed in an international brochure? Wow! How’d that happen? Pretty vague and while I’d love to believe that I’m listed in some special brochure that reaches the eyes of wealthy Africans, there’s no way in hell. Seriously, who would believe this? Do people believe this? Are there really people out there who fall for this crap? There must be or else these scams wouldn’t continue to exist. All you have to do is ask yourself one question: Why wouldn’t a rich cocoa farmer have a will? If he really wanted his son to have the money, he’d of made a will or listed the boy as a joint account holder at the bank.

Anyway, it’s not real, so there’s no use speculating a will. But I mean, seriously…do people fall for this? Yes, because there’s a sucker born every minute. The major tip off is, first of all, why would a wealthy person half way across the world be contacting YOU? If the constant misspellings and inaccurate geography aren’t a tip off, you probably have more problems than recognizing inaccuracies in a random email. And secondly, where the fuck have you been the last 10 years? These scams have been going around as long as I’ve been on the interwebs – about 11 years now. Do the people who fall for this live in caves with no running water, electricity, or interwebs? You and I both know that if I were to, hypothetically, contact this Joseph person, there would indeed be some form of “send me money so I can send you money” thing going on. I wouldn’t send someone 5 dollars to send me 10 let alone several thousand dollars. Oh, and come on…whose last name is “Jonathan”? Even if someone contacted me with my long dead Mexican grandfather’s name, I’d have to assume it was a scam. He has plenty of heirs in Mexico that would come before me.

Good grief. I digress. This letter was one of the better ones I’d received in a long time and I especially like the poisoning angle. I weep for the people that continue to fall for these things, however. How sad. How sad indeed.

CreativeJobsCentral.com and The Cure suck

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A few months after I was released from my obligation with Hot Topic, I found an interesting job site. I’d already made the decision to freelance, but figured it couldn’t hurt to use job sites – what if a really great job popped up? A really good one? I’d take it. Someone told me about CreativeJobsCentral.com and as a matter of happenstance, they had a section especially for photographers. Low on cash, I thought I’d sign up for a few months to see if I liked it. Accidentally, I signed up for 6 months which cost about $78.00. After a few months, I realized the site wasn’t worth the HTML it was written with, so I canceled my subscription. I didn’t hear from them again until last week a mysterious charge appeared on my bank statement. CreativeJobsCentral.com had charged me another $78.00.

I called my bank immediately and they recommended I call CreativeJobsCentral.com and ask for a reimbursement. I did and CreativeJobsCentral.com said they’d refund my money in about 10 business days. In the meantime, I’m accruing NSF fees at the rate of $32.00 per day. I am currently in a deficit. Once CreativeJobsCentral.com refunds my money, I have to submit a claim to my bank asking for the NSF charges back. Meanwhile, I can’t deposit money into my account because it’ll get eaten by the NSFs. I asked CreativeJobsCentral.com to pay for the NSFs and they won’t do it. They’re mistake, my suffering.

That said, CreativeJobsCentral.com is a total waste of time. In all the time I was subscribed, not one job jumped out and screamed at me. In fact, I did better finding work at free sites.

And now for something new…um, old?

The Cure released yet another new album this week. Is this number 57? I lost track. I stopped listening to The Cure after Wish (1992), which I didn’t really like, but bought anyway because I was hoping it would be good. It was alright. Everything after that has been, what one reviewer called “phoned in” and I have to agree. Nothing Robert and the gang have released in the last 10 years has been worthy of the memories I associate with The Cure…and not even close. I sampled the new album on iTunes, you know, just in case I might want to download it from a disreputable source…but nah, I’ll pass. Just as I’ve passed on every other Cure album since Wish.

And this, my friends, makes me a sad Cure fan. I mean, you know, sadder than most Cure fans. I used to love The Cure. Love, like the poets talk about. I’d stare at my Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me poster and dream of kissing him, kissing him, kissing him. Everything they did was art and I knew, undoubtedly, that I would love The Cure forever. I was a teenager at the time. We tend to make promises we can’t keep when we’re young and love is fleeting.

The Cure is a classic example of the failure of the “quit while you’re ahead” saying. Take your chips and cash out before you lose it all! It’s the law of Vegas and should be the law of the music industry. I don’t know who to blame, Geffen Records or Robert Smith? I can’t help but think that this is all Robert’s doing. You’d think that after 30 years on the field and 12 successful albums later, you’d be able to write your own meal ticket. You’re on top of the world, you’re selling out stadiums…so why make a new album that sounds exactly like the last one? And the one before that? I don’t get it. What I love about David Bowie so much is that he is constantly altering himself. Every new album, we get a new Bowie and the songs may not be Top of the Pops, but it’s different and most of it is actually quite good. It’s different, anyway. The thing is, he tries to reinvent himself and reflect his life at that current stage. His last release, Reality (2003) felt more like a swan song, but somehow seemed like a fitting end. You feel like he’s constantly challenging himself rather than rehashing the hits. Now, The Cure? They’re a bunch of rehashers.

4:13 Dream is getting good reviews. NME is saying it’s a call-back to old Cure. Eh, I don’t think so. That is, unless you consider Bloodflowers “old Cure”. I don’t trust reviewers. Having been one myself, I know how much flak you receive for giving a bad review or (heaven forbid) saying what you really think. Official reviews are often laced with pressure to perform and the necessity to keep one’s job. User reviews on random sites? Actually, a little more trustworthy.

I won’t pay for the new Cure album. I might find another way to procure it. I’ll do it because even though the samples sound disappointing, even after all these years, I’m still willing to give The Cure another chance. Although, at this stage of the game, I’m not sure why.

A user review from iTunes that I wholeheartedly agree with:

Pre-Packaged Goth

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Instead of working my butt off yesterday, I palled around with my boyfriend’s 12 year old daughter. She and I have a few things in common and I think she’s a pretty great kid. In particular, even though she’s a twin, she’s still the middle child. I was the second born, but I was still a middle child. We both have challenging mothers. We both like to fix things and make things better. She reads like a fiend. When I was that age, I read like a fiend. Anything I could get my hands on. I remember when she was 9, she asked me if I thought it was OK to be weird. How cute. Of course, I replied, you’re talking to me! I’m the Queen of Weird, after all. Maybe not a Queen, maybe a Princess of Weird. Anyway, I’ve always made it a point to let her be herself and embrace her weirdness. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and she’s super smart.

For Halloween this year, she’s decided to be a Dark Fairy. I was never into Dark Fairies, because they didn’t really exist when I was 12, but I probably would have been. I thought, how cool is that? I need to help her! What better place to take a 12 year old girl putting together a Dark Fairy costume than Hot Topic? Sure, I don’t work there anymore, but it remains the one stop shop for pre-teens looking to rebel. I recalled that Dark Fairies were big when I worked there and knowing Hot Topic, probably still were. We got there and looked around a bit. Hardly any Dark Fairy items. Maybe one messenger bag. I wanted to get her some cool wings, but all they had were angels, butterflies, and devils. Booo.

Kudos to Hot Topic for finally dropping the fairies after all these years, but when we finally need something from them, they don’t deliver. What else is new? As an added bonus, the staff was playing THE most annoying music – it was GWAR or GWAR-like, you know the kind of music that sounds like Satan having a tough time in the bathroom? It’s probably my least favorite kind of music and really put off my boyfriend’s daughter. I imagined taking her in and finding all kinds of cool fairy stuff and then maybe even getting her excited about some Goth stuff. As usual, Hot Topic is out of the loop and don’t realize they’re dealing with a whole new generation of kids: The pre-teens on the verge of rebellion.

When I was 12, I was actually still playing with Barbies. Don’t tell anyone. It was 1987 and I was as uncool as it gets. I didn’t really start listening to cool music until I was 13 or 14. I didn’t commit fully to black clothes until I was 15 even though I sported Cure shirts with flower dresses in junior high. I also grew up in a town devoid of cool where it was hard to find good music and the only people I knew who dressed in black were a few of my friends. Things were different back then. There was no internet and no Hot Topic. I discovered Goth on my own and didn’t realize it had a name until I was in high school.

Something I realized yesterday sort of brought me down from my dark castle. Goth isn’t cool anymore. To non-Goths who watched Saturday Night Live and countless other pop culture parodies of the scene, it’s always been a joke. Those of us in it hardly paid any mind, but while we were ignoring the mockery, the world also grew to accept Goth in a way I never liked. You’d see Goth girls in commercials, videos, comic books, and crime dramas. The same thing happened with punk. I remember seeing an episode of CHiPS where a punk guy robbed an old lady. By that time, punk was dead, but it took a few years for mainstream media to catch on and integrate these funny characters into their lexicon. And so it’s happened with Goth. Goth is a joke to most people and especially to kids. In fact, my boyfriend’s daughter’s best friend is going to be a Goth for Halloween. Pre-packaged Goth costumes have been around for a few years, but it never really hit me like it did yesterday. Goth is a Halloween costume.

So now what? I haven’t been to a club in years, most of the outfits I wore are hanging in the closet getting moth holes. While I continue to wear black, dye my hair blue, and dream about future tattoos, in all honestly, I’m not there anymore. Not like I was. I continue to listen to the music and keep up to date with new bands, but that’s not it. It’s that I just don’t associate with it anymore. Goth, the scene. I’ll continue to love spider webs, haunted houses, bats, vampires, and Beetlejuice until the day I die, but I’m not a part of the scene anymore. I haven’t even updated Dark Culture in months. Sure, most of this stems from being in a stable relationship, working on my career, living in a fine house, and being 33. I fight the status quo in new ways and I pay more attention to Barack Obama and Tina Fey than what bands are playing where. And you know what? It’s not so much about the scene, it’s about the music. I recently found out that two bands I would have loved to see played and I missed them. How did that happen?

Perhaps this is just what happens. This is what it must have felt like to my parent’s generation when they saw kids dressed as hippies. You feel like you’re losing touch and it’s not as easy as it once was. But I don’t ever want to say, I used to be. If you’re not totally surrounded by it, it’s easy to let it slip away. Kids, a house, responsibilities, there comes a day when you simply decide not to do it anymore. You don’t even notice it happening. It just does. And that’s why I make extra effort to pay attention. I don’t want to lose touch, but I can see how it could happen if I let it.

Am I annoyed or angry that Goth is a Halloween costume? Not really. Because Goth is a parody, I can’t imagine my boyfriend’s daughter getting into it. Then again, she’s only 12. And even if she doesn’t, I know full well that whatever she chooses to be a part of and however she chooses to dress, she’s going to be one cool chick. She already is. I figure Dark Fairies are a good place to start.


Goths don’t really sport Faux Hawks, but at Target they do. Goths also don’t cheer very much. At least, not in public.

The Pasadena Weekly Can Suck It

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Several weeks ago, ex-boyfriend and future Pulitzer Prize winner, Todd Ruiz emailed me asking if he could use an image I took of him for The Pasadena Weekly. The feature, written by Aaron Proctor (formal Pasadena mayoral candidate, current pain in the ass) is titled “5 Questions” and literally, that’s all it is. I agreed (via 3rd party) to let the paper use my image noting that I should be given photo credit. Todd sent in his 5 answers with a caveat on my behalf. I bet you can guess where this is headed…

A day or so later, Aaron (via Todd) asked if it would be alright if he asked me 5 Questions as well. I thought about it and even though Aaron and I are no longer friends, I couldn’t see the harm in doing a silly feature for a silly paper. It might mean some local exposure and I’d get my picture in the paper. I’d been wanting some new photos of myself (for posterity and promotion), so I got in touch with an old pal at Hot Topic and asked if he’d take some quick photos. Done. I sent in my questions and my photo and figured I’d see it printed in a few weeks. No big whoop.

Yesterday, Todd emailed to inform me that his feature (with the photograph I took) had been printed, but that not only was it Aaron’s final 5 Questions (as he’d been canned on Monday), but that the paper neglected to give me photo credit. It was only a matter of time before the less than stellar Pasadena Weekly would grow tired of Proctor’s shenanigans, but I was hoping at the very least MY feature would get the print. It also sucks that Mike (the guy who took my picture below) also lost out on his own photo credit.

Here’s the picture I would have used.
Photo by Mike McDougal.

Somehow I realized that I should have made more of an effort to ensure my name was printed with the photo of Todd; like perhaps writing to the paper myself. But I didn’t. So many times in life we’re faced with “live and learn” lessons and there are many more times we tell ourselves “I should have…”. At the same time, if the photo was sent with a caveat, I imagine it’s up to the paper to see that it’s done. At the same time, the photo obviously isn’t from a casual photographer at a shindig. It’s clearly professionally done (if I do say so myself). The fact that the paper didn’t follow up – and as far as I’m concerned, leaves them liable for…for…something. All I know is, I feel like I’ve been ripped off. I will, naturally, write to the paper and convey my displeasure with them. Not that they can make it up to me in any way, but at the very least, I’ll get it off my chest. Don’t worry, it’ll be a nice, professional letter…’cause that’s how I roll.

Dear Pasadena Weekly, please die in a fire. Sincerely, Kristen Simental.

Or something to that effect, but you know…with flowery words and shit. Live and learn, my ass. When confronted with these annoying life lessons, I do what any normal person would do: I seek the authoritative advice from my peers on a message board. Sadly, they all agree that I’m shit out of luck. I’m still mad about it though.

Once again, however, the wit and intelligent humor of Todd Ruiz turns a half-rate paper into more than the usual bird cage liner – at least for one week. I don’t even have a bird. As far as the Pasadena Weekly is concerned, even before they gypped me on my 2 seconds of glory, I wasn’t their biggest fan. In fact, just a week before this all went down, I was reading the paper at Peet’s on Lake and telling my brother what a two bit paper it is. So there! I don’t particularly care about the feature on me, but photo credit gives you street cred. I wouldn’t wipe my ass with the Pasadena Weekly now. Ok, maybe I would. In a pinch…like if I was trapped out in the forest and all I had was a bran muffin and The Pasadena Weekly. I’m certainly not going to wipe my patoot with a bran muffin.

Click for the big one:

My photo, Todd's answers. Clever, on both counts.

My photo, Todd's answers. Clever, on both counts.

UPDATE: Todd was nice enough to mention the missing photo credit mishap on his blog. His blogging partner Monica also gave me some props (where you can see the original photo in question). Thanks guys.

Why I Cut My Own Hair

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Yesterday I got in touch with an old friend from Hot Topic and asked him if he would take some kick-ass rock star photos of me. I need them for several reason: As a photographer, I am behind the camera, but having blue hair helps. You know, it’s all about image n’ shit – and why not take advantage of that? Secondly, after much debate, I’ve decided to take part in a small feature for the Pasadena Weekly. It’s the brainchild of a friend/not-friend from back in the day. I won’t go into anything or say who at the moment, because right now, it’s not important. I also don’t want to discuss until it’s actually in print. This small feature is pretty simple and while it may not be the best promotion of my life ever, it certainly won’t hurt. And you know what? PT Barnum said, all publicity is good publicity. PT was right.

As part of the prep for this photo-shoot, I got my hair cut. Before I left for Florida, I got re-blued by a new guy at a hip/indie salon East of Old Town Pasadena on Colorado. I liked the salon and I thought the guy was edgy enough and maybe even a little punk rock. For a first timer with my hair, he did a good job and listened to my wants. I was excited because after a life long search for the perfect hairstylist, I thought I’d finally found one. I should have known better. At my last appointment, he talked non-stop about Blink-182, how he was a chick-magnet, and how cool he was. OK, fine. We’re all allowed to boast now and again. By the end of the appointment, I actually liked him and was happy with his work. Not the best ever, but good enough.

Flash forward to my haircut last night. I arrived at 7pm as scheduled. He didn’t know I was coming. What-evs. I explained to him what I wanted and told him about the photo-shoot. He was stoked. I felt like he wasn’t as confident as I would have liked him to be, but I’m always willing to give people a chance. 2 hours later, I checked out what he’d done. Not happy. Not that it was a bad job. Technically, it was very well done. I have bone-straight hair and any little mistake is immediately noticeable. On that level, it was great. Nice job, but not what I wanted. I’d explained I wanted to shake things up, that he shouldn’t feel timid or conservative. Go nuts, I told him. When he asked if I liked it, I said, “Honestly, I was hoping for something a little more reckless”. He went into explaining why he played it safe and I expressed I wasn’t totally wowed by the cut. He said that since it was the first time he was cutting my hair, over time, we would rock it. Over time? No, see, I need it now. Photo shoot on Saturday, remember? Over time? I just paid $85.00 (including tip) for a haircut I didn’t want? Over time, are you fucking kidding me? What hairstylist does that? I’m not going to give you the haircut you really want, but if you keep coming back, it’ll get there. I don’t think so. No fucking way, dude. That would be like me saying, “I’m going to take your family portrait, but right now, since you’re a new client, I’m only going to shoot little Timmy and Mom. Next time you come back, we’ll shoot Dad and Grandma.” I’m no genius, but I don’t think that’s how you ensure repeat business.

To make matters worse, the cut took 2 hours. Look, I have long hair, but two hours? I get it, the stylist was green. I get the impression he hasn’t been working the floor very long. One indication of that is how much he loves his job. I’ve done hair. It’s shit work. You bust your ass for hardly any money, stand on your feet all day, get shoulder pains, and piss off clients like me. The few times you rock a cut and actually read your client’s mind and give them exactly what they want…it’s not worth it. That’s why I got out. It’s why I got back into my real passion: photography. You can like being a hairstylist, but when you LOVIE-LURVE it, that’s a newbie attitude.

I feel for the guy. He was tired (he kept reminding me) and he’d just had a new baby. A young, unmarried kid with a kid. Oy. I get it, after working all day, he was ready to go home. Been there. Regardless, if you don’t give every client what they want, you risk them not coming back. I probably won’t go back. I’m annoyed at his arrogance and his lack of people pleasing skills. If I’m going to pay $85.00 for a haircut, I want to leave the place like a Vidal Sassoon commercial. Am I asking too much? Fuck, I saved my money for that?

When I got home, I took out my scissors and went to work. Chop chop! We’ll see what it looks like after I shower, but I’m pretty happy with that I did on my own. What a waste of both time and money.

For years I’ve been on the hunt for a kick ass hairstylist. They don’t have to read my mind, but it would be nice if they listened to me. And when I said I don’t like the cut, they fix it. I guess I’ll just cut my own hair from now on. I do a better job anyway. I’m picky about my hair, but I’m not an asshole. I want what I want, but I also appreciate people’s creativity and many times let people express it. I’m boggled by the fact that hairstylists play it safe when I tell them they don’t have to. Do I seriously need to say, “No, dude, I mean it, go for it. Got crazy. No, I mean it. Really. For reals. I’m not kidding. Do your thang. I promise I won’t sue you. I’m serious. Honest. Get creative. Please? Pretty please? For the love of God would you just do something awesome with my hair?! Fuck. What do I have to do, beat it out of you? I promise I won’t get mad. No matter what you do, I’ll be fine. I’m cool. Just do it. I trust you. Rock this hair cut. Rock it. Cut my hair. Would you get the scissors out and…” *pant* *pant* *pant* Ay caramba. Is that how it has to be? Do I have to beg for it?

What I imagine really happened is that I expected my hairstylist to be cooler than he is. I expected that, even though he was green, he still had enough talent and confidence to give me what I wanted. In the end, I walked out of there with the same haircut I always get. Long layers. Really? After I said I didn’t want long layers?

Arg.

Old Town Pasadena and Why Urban Outfitters Sucks.

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I love so many things about Old Town Pasadena. Granted, in the last 10 years, it’s been sterilized and jam-packed with stores like The Gap, American Apparel, Barnes and Nobles, and Urban Outfitters (among other name brands). If you can handle the arrival of several new frozen yogurt places (what is this, the 80′s?), the droves of Paris Hilton wannabes, the constant onslaught of homeless people shaking cups at you, and the resident cigar smoking Armenians at Starbucks, it’s a cool place to walk around on some evenings.

No, wait. Old Town Pasadena is everything I hate about American consumerism. Well, most of me hates it, parts of me likes it. Still, I am in conflict because locally-speaking, it really is the coolest place to hang out in without driving 20 minutes to Los Feliz. Of course, it’s no Los Feliz and had I the gumption, I’d be in Los Feliz a lot more often. At the very least, you’re guaranteed a Giovanni Ribisi or Glenn Danzig sighting…which isn’t saying much, but at least it’s something to tell your friends about.

Tonight, my brother and I had falafel wraps at Father Nature’s, a place I love. Still, I remember when it was The Museum Cafe. At the time, I worked at a coffee house, but still went there after work for a latte. They had a back room with folding chairs and a screen playing movies. It was the kind of place you could find refuge from the corporate world in. When it closed, it was really the end of the end. With countless other stores loosing the battle of rent increases and buy-outs, Old Town became an outdoor mall – and everything that implies. The Equator, a coffee house that managed to stand the test of time, recently turned into a douche-bag nightclub/bar, sans coffee. Or maybe there is coffee, I don’t know. Since the change, I haven’t bothered to check in. As if Old Town needs yet another watering hole for greasy macho men cruising for tail. Not that The Equator was anything special. The service always sucked and the coffee didn’t provoke warm fuzzy feelings. Anywayz…

As much as Old Town sucks, it does have several redeeming qualities. For example, Akbar Indian Cuisine, The Apple Store, Holly St. Cafe 54, Tibet Nepal Restaurant, and in the Summer they show old movies in Miller Alley. Or is it Hugus Alley? I can’t remember. It’s the one by Johnny Rockets and Gordon Biersch. Occasionally, they sport some really cool activities like Make Music Pasadena (which I missed cause I forgot), and Yoko Ono’s Wish Trees – which I also forgot about and wonder if it’s still there. Regardless, I feel like I should spend more time there. I don’t know why.

I started this entry because I wanted to complain about Urban Outfitters. After coffee, my brother and I went in for a looksie. I always find cute clothes at UO, but when I check the price tag, I realize why I don’t shop there. OK, seriously…$58.00 for a cardigan sweater that is made to look like you got it at a thrift store and actually, you could go to a thrift store right now and find that exact sweater for $3.99. In the 90′s, when all I did was thrift shop, that is, before Kurt Cobain turned the whole world onto it and after that you couldn’t find a cardigan to save you, you could find the exact sweaters Urban Outfitters is peddling. And I mean exact! How DARE Urban Outfitters charge such outlandish prices for clothing that looks used? I have no problem with used clothes. 90% of my clothes are from thrift stores, but if it’s used…I expect to pay less than market value for it because it still smells like the previous owner and I have to wash it. Fine. Urban Outfitters sells recreations. Think about this, in the 60′s and 70′s, when that sweater was new, it probably didn’t cost 60 bucks. Original! Not used! Authentic vintage apparel! What I also don’t get is why people concede to pay that kind of money for something you can buy for much cheaper. What’s the deal? By paying $60.00 for a $3.00 item, does this somehow give you street cred?

In these troubling economic times, it baffles me that Urban Outfitters has the balls to over price a reasonable facsimile of vintage clothing made in China. I understand why American Apparel over charges their merchandise. It’s made in America and they pay legal wages. I can’t afford to buy American made, but I understand their motives. Along with Urban Outfitter’s same hoodie/different screen print, “vintage” tees and kitschy tsotchkes, isn’t what they’re doing just repackaging our youth and selling it back to us? Classic to me, brand-spanking-new to today’s college kids, I guess. Nostalgia isn’t worth $60.00 a piece.

Urban Outfitters is a rip off on so many levels it sickens me. I’m done. I can’t go back there. Urban Outfitters, consider yourself boycotted. I should have done this years ago.

As an added bonus, I pay attention to street fashion and I’ve noticed these kids who dress like ragamuffins from the latest casting of Oliver. Truth be told, most of what they’re wearing cost a pretty penny and some are actually from high-priced designers. How the fuck do college kids with no income afford designer clothes? Furthermore, why pay a heap-load for something they won’t iron and looks used? And stinky-looking Emo kids with a billion tattoos. Hey, tattoos are expensive…how do they afford it? I’d really like to know.

Oy, I’m getting old. Or maybe, street fashion replaces street smarts. Fashion in general has taken a powder.

Message from Obama HQ

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When I found out about how Obama voted on the FISA bill, I sent an angry letter to Obama HQ via MySpace. Thinking I wouldn’t hear anything back, I went about my merry way. Within 24 hours, I received a response from Lindsey:

Hi Kristen,

Thank you for contacting us and sharing your strong feelings about this important issue. Please find a statement from Senator Obama below.

We appreciate hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Lindsey @ Obama HQ

—

Given the grave threats that we face, our national security agencies must have the capability to gather intelligence and track down terrorists before they strike, while respecting the rule of law and the privacy and civil liberties of the American people. There is also little doubt that the Bush Administration, with the cooperation of major telecommunications companies, has abused that authority and undermined the Constitution by intercepting the communications of innocent Americans without their knowledge or the required court orders.

That is why last year I opposed the so-called Protect America Act, which expanded the surveillance powers of the government without sufficient independent oversight to protect the privacy and civil liberties of innocent Americans. I have also opposed the granting of retroactive immunity to those who were allegedly complicit in acts of illegal spying in the past.

After months of negotiation, the House passed a compromise that, while far from perfect, is a marked improvement over last year’s Protect America Act. Under this compromise legislation, an important tool in the fight against terrorism will continue, but the President’s illegal program of warrantless surveillance will be over. It restores FISA and existing criminal wiretap statutes as the exclusive means to conduct surveillance – making it clear that the President cannot circumvent the law and disregard the civil liberties of the American people. It also firmly re-establishes basic judicial oversight over all domestic surveillance in the future.

It does, however, grant retroactive immunity, and I voted in the Senate three times to remove this provision so that we could seek full accountability for past offenses. Unfortunately, these attempts were unsuccessful. But this compromise guarantees a thorough review by the Inspectors General of our national security agencies to determine what took place in the past, and ensures that there will be accountability going forward. By demanding oversight and accountability, a grassroots movement of Americans has helped yield a bill that is far better than the Protect America Act.

It is not all that I would want. But given the legitimate threats we face, providing effective intelligence collection tools with appropriate safeguards is too important to delay. So I support the compromise, but do so with a firm pledge that as President, I will carefully monitor the program, review the report by the Inspectors General, and work with the Congress to take any additional steps I deem necessary to protect the lives – and the liberty – of the American people.

Standard issue response, but kudos for the quick reply and personalization. I’m sure they get a lot of angry email from people and have a response-o-matic team ready. I guess. Whatever. Nice that Obama addressed the issue, but it still doesn’t make it OK. It’s like saying “I’ll let my kid rob banks, but I’ll make sure to watch over him and if he requires disciplinary action, I’ll take care of it“. What does that mean?

Ok, this is why the country is so fucked up. Big corporations get away with whatever they want and with the promise of immunity from the White House – and now Barack Obama when he becomes president. If the law isn’t perfect, why vote FOR it and not AGAINST it until it is perfect? This is the kind of bullshit compromise that senators use to win elections. And it all sounds shady to me. Sounds to me like Obama will easily bend, he’ll do and say whatever he has to in order to win the election. Fine. He’s a politician. Charles DeGaulle said, “I have come to the conclusion that politics are too serious a matter to be left to the politicians.” And I think he may have been right. Obama has painted himself as the president for change. Is he really, or does he just happen to be a really kick ass speaker? He’s an amazing speaker. He won me over with his “yes we can” and “change we can believe in” slogans, but maybe that’s all they really are…slogans.

In the end, here were are faced with yet another election where we as Americans must choose between the lesser of two evils. Is Obama a good man and will he make a good president? I don’t know. Is he smart? Yes. Will he change the world for the better? I don’t know. I hope so. Still, look at what he’s done. He really is changing the face of politics, but when he caves on shoddy laws, how can we trust him? He is, apparently, not a man of his word and that bothers me because I really thought he was.

I’ll continue to watch and wait. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I vote for McCain, but perhaps Obama won’t get my vote either. How are you going to make this one up, Obama? Huh?

An Open Letter to the Rats

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I wrote an open letter to the rats in my basement, walls, and attic and posted it on Craigslist. Partially to be funny, but also to help clear my conscience. Not that I actually think the rats have a tiny internet connection and will read this letter, but it’s semi-cathartic to get it off my chest.

Dear Rat Family,

What you don’t know is that today is the beginning of the end. You may have noticed a chubby man in a yellow shirt walking around the house yesterday? His name was Tom, but you can call him “The Exterminator”. He, or one of his co-workers, will bring about your final judgment.

I’m so sorry that it had to come to this. I called every pest controller in the area and tried to have your family re-located, but they all agreed you had to die. No one would capture you in humane traps and take you to a new home in the forest where your children could run around, climb trees, and nibble on things. One guy even laughed at me when I asked. I looked into natural remedies that might annoy you so you’d leave on your own, but it’s more work than I can put into it. It also means going into the creepy attic and scary basement, which I avoid if I can. I also understand it’s illegal to save and relocate rats.

I don’t blame you for setting up camp in my house and I’m not mad at you. My house is pretty great and there are a lot of nooks, crannies, dark spots, and shrubbery to make a fine home in. You, like me, just want to survive, be happy, and live your life. However, I must face the fact you’re not a little chef and you don’t wear clothes or talk. You have the potential to carry disease, you breed like rabbits, you poop all over the place, and you’re probably why my allergies have been off the hook lately. I know you’re just doing what you do, but the cons outweigh the pros.

Today traps will be set and the slaughter will begin. You’ll go about your merry way, spot a tasty treat and go for it. You’ll think you’ve hit the jack-pot. After struggling to feed your family all these months, you’ll attempt to grab that tasty morsel and within an instant, a metal spring will snap and a bar will come crashing down on your skull. If you’re lucky, it will be instantaneous. At least one of your kin will encounter the trap and find that he’s pinned with a broken spine, still alive, dying slowly. At night, I’ll hear the traps snapping and cringe. I fully expect to cry. But what are my tears worth when I am essentially playing God and bringing about your doom?

As one by one, your family members take the bait, die, and are removed, you won’t learn anything. You won’t see the tiny corpses of your children and think to yourself, “I might not want to go after that delicious treat.” You’re smart, but you’re not that smart.

It’s not fair and nothing I can say will take away from the fact that I gave the order to have you killed. I wish there was a different way, but like you, I must take care of my family first. I’m sorry I’m not a better person and despite all my talk about saving the planet, loving animals, and being a vegetarian for 17 years, I am a failure. I failed your family.

Good-bye little rat family. I can’t say I’ll miss you, but I am sorry.

Within minutes, I had several responses:

  • Great post.

    I had rats once at a house I lived in in Venice on Walgrove.

    We set the traps and we listened to the SNAPPS!! It was rough. Rats are strong smart animals.

    One of the trapps snapped and you could hear the rat crying and screaming for a long while. My girlfriend at the time was an anamial lover and she freeked out and was ugly.

    I am going to move into an old family house w/ skunks and rats in a few weeks. As much as it hurts, all those skunks and rats are going to die, and thats just the way it is.

  • ….AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHH*@#$%!!
    That was great.
    Now substitute the subject “rat” with “illegal” and it would take on a whole new application.

  • Dear landlord,

    I am dismayed that you are choosing such a hostile act as poison to evict my family and I. If you continue in this course of action my family and I will be forced to declare jihad against you. Die you insolent american!! We will do our best to die inside walls where the stink of our moldering corpses will be as the sweet stench of Allah’s breath, and the most bothersome to you yankee scum. The kitchen wall behind the oven will be first, then the wall behind that new 52″ lcd flat panel sounds about right. Ohh, the irony. Imagine trying to watch my movie star cousin Ratatoulie while little abdul is stinking just inches from that nice warm lcd tv. Next would be where your bed goes against the wall. Every night you will be thinking of me, as you you try to go to sleep. Sleep well american scum.

    Fiesal

  • I had to email you and express what a fantastic writer you are. That was amazing. You had me giggling, choking up, and feeling such empathy for your plight. Very sincere and blunt at the same time. You’re doing the right thing, rats are definitely a danger to your health. Good luck, I hope you don’t hear the traps going off too much.

    • The guy who wanted to exchange “rats” for “illegals” is apparently a racist sonofabitch. The guy that wrote the Jihad response is obviously thinking of Fieval from the animated film “An American Tail”. People are so funny.

    Anyway, I do feel guilty, but like cockroaches, you can’t mess around. Once they’re in your house, it’s us or them. *sigh* Sometimes life isn’t fair. I have to do it, but I feel really bad.