Things I Am Guilty Of

• Driving too slow on the freeway when I’m changing cds/tracks/radio stations
• Driving too fast on the freeway when I’m bored and just want to be where I want and becoming angry with people who are driving too slow but probably are just switching the station or trying to enjoy a sandwich.
• Buying a new nail polish every single time I’m at CVS or Target even though I have over 100 nail polishes
• Ordering too many books off Amazon because I’m too ambitious
• Deciding there is no such thing as being “too ambitious” and going for it until I have an ambition hangover and have to nap for awhile
• Being irrationally frightened by phone numbers I don’t recognize and refusing to pick up the phone when they are calling me.
• Avoiding calling the doctor to make appointments
• Actively yelling in parking lots because I hate them so much
• Losing my car in the parking lot and being on the verge of tears as I walk around looking for my long lost Camry like a child who has been abandoned by their neglecting family
• Trying clothes on that look almost okay in the fitting room but then disastrous in real life after I pay for them
•  Liking Justin Beiber’s new song
• Unsubscribing from Cosmo because all the cover girls are practically younger than me
• Lying on those questionnaires you fill out at the doctor’s office when they ask how many times a week you exercise.
• Still sweeping everything under my bed that I don’t feel like cleaning or organizing
• Being put to deep sleep by Middlemarch
• Using the term “organically” when referencing line breaks and hoping I sound more academic
• Trying to get into Keeping up with the Kardashians on Netflix. Like, actively.
• Exaggerating. I exaggerate a lot.
• Ordering Shirley Temples at bars when I don’t feel like drinking
• Knowing way more celebrity gossip than I should
• Not doing my laundry right now
• Hating Thomas Pynchon and thinking his work is very un-funny
• Thinking about what happens when we die and then experiencing a full blown anxiety attack when I realize probably nothing and that our minds are biologically unable to grasp what “nothing” actually is in terms of our biological lives.
• Pretending I know more about science than I do
• Pretending I know more about Buddhism than I do
• Liking Perks of Being a Wallflower more as a movie than a book.
• Owning more cardigans than I actually wear
• Buying granola at the grocery store and then only eating half of it because I’ll run out of yogurt and granola by itself is kind of pointless
• Being scared I’ll never make it as a writer
• Being scared I’ll make it as a writer but lose my genius after my first book
• Imaging Chuck Klosterman writing my first blurb on the back of my book
• Not actually reading the New Yorker but considering myself the type of person who would.
• I’m not 100% sure about my bra size.

Wow, that’s a lot of internalizing there. Enjoy being inside my brain!!

xo,
Gina

14 Albums That Helped Me Get Through High School

All I ever wanted in high school was a respectable rack and maybe a boyfriend. Since neither of those things really happened, I had to compensate. If I wasn’t at school or eating my best friend’s frozen chimichangas from Costco on her couch, I was in front of my old computer, making playlists. Or I was at Lou’s Record Store, lusting after old records and uncrumpling dollar bills so I could buy the newest Death Cab CD. I was always listening to my iPod. I remember my neighbor’s mom would give me a ride to school and she and her daughter would listen to the shitty morning talk show and I would be like, “fuck that, I’m listening to Muse this morning!” like a total bad ass motherfucker. It was extremely anti-social of me. Honestly, I just now have started to learn how to be in the car with people and not drown their conversations out with music. Like any real teenager, music was my way to digest cruel high school, and here are my top choices that guided the way, cradled me at my lowest crying-in-my-pillow-all-day low. Also, I originally thought I had 15, but it turns out only 14. Which is a weird number. Oh well.

14. Kimya Dawson-Hidden Vagenda

YES to feminism and HELL YES to cute Kimya in her panda costume and sweet little baby she took pictures with for her Myspace music page. I loved the way Kimya’s scratchy voice and scruffy lyrics spoke to me. They were all, “life’s tough, girlfriend, but you can do this.” This was my favorite album of the two that were out at the time. I’m not sure where she is now. Being cute and punk and wonderful somewhere?

13. Death Cab For Cutie-Plans

Half of this album was always in my Fall Playlist. There was this sense of hope underneath all the finality, it was so beautiful.

12. The Shins-Oh, Inverted World

I became instantly obsessed with this album (and The Postal Service, too) after Garden State came out, and my friend and I watched it and were like, “wow, that was so meaningful, I totally don’t get it.” Which basically sums up life, so there you go. I love the way this album is so whimsical, dorky in spite of reality, but lyrically and aesthetically gorgeous.

11. Radiohead-Hail to the Thief 

I first started listening to Radiohead in 9th grade because I thought it would make me more musically knowledgable. Kind of like forcing yourself to eat kimchi for the first time because you know it will be a good experience as well as tasty in its own, unique way. I liked this album especially because I worked so hard at “getting into it.” Like, I worked double shifts at this album, listening to it constantly for months on end as I studied for my Geometry tests and avoided humans.

10. Jeff Buckley -Grace

This album was just so pretty. And wistful. Jeff’s version of “Hallelujah” is one my favorite songs of all time and makes me cry every single time I listen to it.

9. Blonde on Blonde-Bob Dylan

I bought Blonde on Blonde when I was in my Borders phase. Does Borders still exist? Probably not; damn you Amazon! (JK, I buy fucking everything from Amazon) I would wander the music section (which was far superior to Barnes & Noble’s) and buy at least one CD a week. I think there was this one week where I decided I absolutely HAD to get into Bob Dylan. As though I was not a real person unless I listened to Dylan and that was that. Oh, I felt so cool listening to him. I felt like I suddenly belonged in a elite club. This was when I started reading Nabokov and started to regret painting my room lime green.

8. The Cranberries-Everyone Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? 

Somehow, this album encapsulated my first break-up. I was sad all the time, and Dolores O’Riordan’s Irish sorrow was just so empowering. I don’t think it empowered me; I was way too much of a whiney asshole to absorb that. But I understood. I understood that I had to experience certain things and feelings so I could appreciate others. Like my relationship now, which is just all happy songs.

7. Arcade Fire-Funeral

Okay, this is really weird, but I was reading Isabel Allende’s House of Spirits and listening to Funeral in English class and suddenly, the world’s turmoil and anguish and political fuckery just popped out at me, like any epiphany would for a fifteen year-old. This also might have happened because I was reading House of Spirits, a book about the post-colonial social and political upheavals of Chile. So. I don’t know. I definitely made a connection at the time.

6. Metric-Old World Underground, Where Are You Now?

Emily Haines was the woman I desperately wanted to be. Deep, personal, and hot. I never put this album down, ever. I still love Metric, except what happened with their last album? Kind of a let down. Were they like, “oh, Lou Reed says a few words in one song, so the rest of the album can be kind of whatever.”

5. Of Montreal-Satanic Panic in the Attic

I’m not even sure what is going on with Of Montreal. I know very well I could Google this and I would get an answer within milli-seconds, but I won’t. I’ll just leave them where I left them; a world of fun dance-all-night concerts that I would look forward to every year. Have you ever been to an Of Montreal concert? SO. MUCH. FUN.

4. Mirah-Advisory Committee 

For some reason, I remember listening to this album while learning how to drive with my brother. That particular day, I accidentally almost turned on to oncoming traffic and he screamed at me and punched the radio off and turned the car around for me because I was too stunned and paralyzed from stupidity to do anything myself. Oh, and the album is beautiful and perfect for all trying times.

3. Lily Allen-Alright Still

My friends and I thought Lily was just so hilarious! We would mouth her lyrics in a fake British accent and sing her sass to invisible boys who never hit on us because we still wore colorful Chucks.

2. The Hold Steady-Boys and Girls in America

This album was our “drinking album” by the time senior year (or was it junior?) came around and we felt very bad ass and solely drank whiskey and secretly chugged Diet Coke in between sips of our whiskey cocktails. At least I did. The point is that we had some massive nights (waahh-ohhhhh!)

1. Rilo Kiley-The Execution of all Things

THIS ALBUM. This album was pure growing up. Pure I-Don’t-Know-Who-The-Fuck-You-Are-But-This-Who-I-Am. Pure cluelessness, loneliness, sexyness, beauty and lack of direction. This album described all the times we just hung out in parks and canyons and talked shit. It’s about the times we felt shitty about ourselves because we realized we weren’t great people, but could be. Jenny Lewis was our spirit animal before spirit animals became a “thing”. I give Rilo Kiley all the credit for helping me get through high school alive and helping me become the sensitive, go-getting weirdo that I am today.

Reflections Are For Lovers

I’m turning 23 in a couple of weeks, which is just scary. I’m still technically young and have the ability to chug a handle of vodka and ace it at work the next day, but I’m starting to feel like…time’s running out. Well, time is literally ticking, and we’re all slowly dying if you feel like looking at it that way, but whatever. The year of 22 has been amazing. Really hard, time consuming, and hectic; I’ve had more jobs in my life than I can count, each one heading closer and closer to my dream career. I’ve written gigantic amounts of poetry, essays, book reviews, and pop culture work (which I have never done prior to HelloGiggles) and a lot of it has been published, to my surprise, delight, and honor. I’ll also be writing for the LA Review soon, which is amazing! I feel like I’m getting there, to where I really want. Yes, I can write an op-ed about Angelina Jolie’s breasts AND a poetics critique on Jericho Brown. It feels good. But I also need to work on more, like write a lot more poetry, submit to a lot more journals, and I don’t know, see my friends more often. I miss them. I want to read Infinite Jest. I want to discover new poetry. I want to publish a book ( okay, this probably won’t happen this year), I want to keep up with blogging, I want to become a better cook. I want to reconnect with friends. I want to see friends who live far away from me more often. I want to spend more time outside. I want to let myself relax on the weekends. I want to just live so hard, that I can’t forget about a single thing.

Sorry this was kind of a boring post. It was more for myself than anything.

xo,
Gina

The Wheat Belly Diaries: day 3

After two days, I realized there wasn’t much in my kitchen that I could eat. No Diet Coke for me (carmel coloring has gluten), no pita chips, no spaghetti, no cookies, and especially no toast. Something had to be done. I’ve already made two trips to Trader Joe’s in hopes of finding satiating gluten-free food.

 

I discovered Udi’s GF bread (which seriously tastes like wheat bread) and baked lentil chips that go super well with hummus. Plus, some almond butter because I was running out of peanut butter and figured I would give it a go.

 

Also found these little devils. Holy fuck, I think only ten come in a package, and I almost ate all of them. Alas, what they say is true. It can’t be good for you AND taste good at the same time, so I really need watch myself. I think a lot of people have this notion that if they eliminate all gluten from their diets, they’ll instantly melt away 50 pounds, but it’s so not true. Like I stated before, corn syrup/starch is in everything. We can’t forget that. Rice flour and soy products are almost just as damaging as wheat. Except remember…wheat is EVIL and THE WORST THING EVER.

I’m Going Gluten Free For HelloGiggles

…For a week. 

But this whole gluten-free fad diet/actual lifestyle has me thinking about what we put into our bodies, because as much as I think gluten is probably a culprit, is it really why America is so fucking fat? What about the insane availability of fast food? GMO products? Huge portion sizes? What about those?

I own Wheat Belly and I’ve started reading it, and a lot of it makes sense, but a part of me doesn’t want to give into the hype. Would a person who is actually concerned for the well-being of his fellow Americans sell a book that has probably made him at least a million dollars? The reaction of curious Americans has made this dude wealthy, and I don’t know if that’s trustworthy. I’ve also heard this is just the Atkins diet under a healthier veil. Could be true. On the plus side, I’ve actually met people who weaned off wheat products and felt more energetic and lost a ton of weight, so who knows? Maybe it’s a placebo effect. Maybe once you go gluten free you start becoming more health conscious and your weariness of food spills into other categories, such as starches, sugar, fat, etc. Aren’t those bad for you too?

I know this isn’t a health blog, but in order to keep my sanity, I think I’ll be journaling on here and recording my progress. Is that okay? I hope so. I already had a bowl of cottage cheese and fruit and already want my regular toast and peanut-butter. WISH ME LUCK. 

Another Smoldering Review About The Great Gatsby As A Letter To Baz Luhrmann

Dear Baz Luhrmann,

Do you know how excited I was to see your depiction, your stunning vision of  The Great Gatsby? I was real excited. I read the book in high-school and dissected and diluted the book until the pages shred and disintegrated from over-use in college. I know Gatsby like I know my way to get home from nearly anywhere. So when I heard you (the director of Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge!) were directing the 6th film adaptation of Gatsby, I had great hopes. Only you would be capable of pulling off the deceptively gaudy age of the 20′s, its tragic glitz and its boastful roar. Only, you failed. You failed more or less miserably.

Let’s focus on the good first, shall we? You were ultimately loyal to the book, and not many directors and writers can say that about their films based off literary texts. Your Gatsby was just as earnest, vapid, and enigmatic as the book portrayed him. He was America’s fool, its byproduct of greed and pre-depression consumerism. Also, Leonardo DiCaprio was a good call; he looked grand in all those nice three-piece suits. I read a review frowning upon Daisy’s “dazed and hazed” behavior in the movie, but Carey Mulligan did just the trick. Daisy is in fact, void of true emotion; she’s a sucker for social status, an It Girl who chooses wealth over (maybe?) love..if Daisy Buchanan is even capable of such a thing. The rest of the cast was great. Isla Fisher was a little bit too skinny to play curvaceous (I believe “faintly stout and thickset” is how Nick Carraway describes her in the novel)Myrtle and Tobey McGuire is just so damn goofy, I couldn’t take him seriously as an outsider. Baz, the party scenes were great. They made me want to become an alcoholic and permanently adhere glitter onto my body and in my hair. The parties were exactly how I envisioned them. Gatsby’s over-the-top estate when compared to the Buchanan’s posh East Egg mansion was spot-on. Oh, and the costumes were delicious. I wanted every single item of clothing and accessory, especially Daisy’s $200,000 Tiffany’s diamond headband. Props to Jay-Z for the soundtrack, too. Very dynamite.

Now, let’s talk about the bad. Baz, did you have to shove every single metaphor down our throats? I was seriously choking after an hour into the movie. How many times, exactly, did you have to remind us that the damn green light symbolized Gatsby’s longing for Daisy, his desire to own a woman,a prized commodity that would finally complete his masterfully crafted life?  Did Leo have to to reach out to the green light with his perfectly manicured fingertips again and again? I know you’re a man of emphasis, but this was just borderline insulting. And okay. What was this whole fictitious scenario with Nick and his self-prescribed time in a sanatorium? You literally filmed Nick typing away the story as he narrated it to a psychiatrist AND you so graciously included visual letters that danced and drifted into snowflakes. It was like an extravagant Powerpoint. Did you absolutely need the narration visually typed out for us to get the point? That you wanted to solidify the marriage between novel and aesthetic? Well, it was cheesy. And yes, I get that everything cool is now in 3-D, BUT I SERIOUSLY HATE WHEN PEOPLE FILM IN 3-D. Why can’t a film just stand on its own? Why do we have to feel like we’re on some Disneyland simulated ride? Oh wait. It’s so people can pay $5 extra for 3-D glasses and watch crazy shit pop out at them! How enhancing.

I think you have the talent and innovation to have created a better film. I imagine it was tricky, trying to re-create a story that is so well-known. How exactly, do you make a film surprising when everyone knows what happens? The answer was not 3-D, nor was it dishing out the explanation of metaphors as though we were grabbing lunch at a school cafeteria en masse. You had the actors, the budget, and the music. I just don’t think you thought outside the grid, Old Sport.

My final grade for you? C-. And I think I’m being quite nice.

Sincerely,

Gina

This is what I’m seeing when I’m not on the internet.

 

Happy Caturday?

Well, I totally took the stairs instead of the elevator

And other justifications for going to Carls Jr tonight:

• I need protein
• My hormones need burger
• What if I die tomorrow?
• But it’s so good
• One Superstar won’t hurt
• The sweet potato fries are a healthy alternative
• I’ll go to the gym for like five hours tomorrow
• I’ll only eat yogurt tomorrow
• I’ll take the long route to class afterwards
• I finished all of my homework
• I’ve been killing it at work
• I’m so hilarious I deserve some fried zucchini
• I didn’t eat all the leftover quiche for lunch even though I could have
• All in moderation
• It’s unhealthy to deny yourself treats once in a while
• I’ll get the Superstar protein-style, BAM.
• I’ll only order a small fries
• I’m low on iron
• It’s freaking a dollar for a spicy chicken
• I’ve been a good girlfriend
• I didn’t spend any money at Forever 21 this week
• I didn’t spend all my money at Target this week
• I’ve been a good human being

Does Anyone Else Get An Anxiety Attack Over What To Buy Their Parents?

My parents are impossible to shop for, because they are the kind of people who pride themselves on their cunning ability to survive on bare basics. Out of pure choice. A little bit of background info: my parents are from Communist Russia. They know what it’s like to take a shit outside in a hole for the world to see, and they used to live in an apartment with like, ten other families. When they moved to America, they bought  a Chevy for 500 bucks and my mom worked at Pizza Hut before she got her certificate or license in computer programming. My dad went from naval engineering to mechanical engineering to owning a dry cleaning business in downtown Minneapolis. My parents are devoted Toyota Camry drivers. If they go out to eat (which is rare), they split a mushroom burger. My dad’s favorite thing in the world is his pair of hiking pants that have twenty different pockets of all sizes. They are practical, he says, and have a glorious amount of pockets. He wears them every day.

Once, I bought my dad a really fancy ping pong paddle for his birthday. He’s an avid ping-pong player and we always have intense ping pong matches in my uncle’s backyard. When he opened his present, he looked confused and asked me why I would ever gift him with this contraption.

“Uhh..your paddle you use now is starting to peel and get all floppy? Doesn’t that affect the aerodynamics or whatever of ping pong?”

“Aero-SHTO?! (what) Take it back to store. I don’t need it.”

So I did. And instead, I bought him a pair of Puma socks from TJ Maxx my mom said he really prefers over his other socks. My mom is the same way. She’s been wearing the same perfume for over 40 years (Gloria Vanderbilt. It’s getting kind of hard tracking it down these days; I have to go to at least three pharmacies). She rotates five different shirts and they all have some kind of grayish green leopard or paisley print.

Anyway. It’s my dad’s birthday next week, and it’s mother’s day the week after. I found this at the Encinitas street fair: a painting of the highway a few miles away from my parent’s house in Carlsbad, the road he takes to get my uncle’s house. Where he competitively plays ping pong. Recently, I have discovered that if I get my dad a little painting, he actually keeps it and tacks to his wall in his office. I’ve already bought a sketch of Johnny Cash, and an important ship.

One present down, one more to go.

Ideas, anyone?

xo,

Gina

Thoughts after two cups of coffee & no motivation to write form+theory paper

 

1. YOU try transporting two cupcakes (one in each hand) from campus to car to apartment without completely obliterating them and getting your carseat/hands/jeans smothered in chocolate ganache. Seriously though, it’s hard. Above is an “after” picture. No “before” because I didn’t think that far ahead.

2. On the subject of cupcakes. I love cupcakes. I think they’re adorable, versatile, and delicious. I absolutely will disagree with anyone who claims “cake” is better than a cupcake. Like, they’re both comprised of the exact same thing, cupcakes are just more transportable and marketable because of their individuality. Usually these said cupcake haters are just people who hate trends. They refuse to get frozen yogurt and stick to Coldstone. They have Androids, not iPhones. Okay, I’m getting a little bit ridiculous here. Point is…don’t hate the cupcake. Do not.

3. I’m so tired and it’s getting to the point where I look like a fucking mess every time I leave my apartment because any spare minute I get, I am resting my head on a pillow. So I come into class, walk into the grocery store, what have you, with smeared eyeliner that makes me look like I’ve been punched in the face or maybe sobbing. There are maybe ten bags under my eyes. I’m usually wearing a striped sweater that’s super comfy and conveniently located on the floor by my bed so when I wake up in the morning I don’t have to shuffle around my closet. Around 4 I try to come up with some kind of caffeine supplement, so you’ll see me chugging a Red Bull or warming my palms on a Starbucks cup. This is when I get super wacky and have fast conversations with friends and professors and start planning on going to the gym later and blogging and tweeting something hilarious and caffeine-induced, and editing a poem and making dinner that involves quinoa and kale. But then I come home at 8 or 9 or 10 and I put on my sweatpants and pass out watching someone getting murdered on Game of Thrones.