Misha Is A Genius: A Satire

Reading.

2009-03-04T15:14:00.001-08:00

Charles Bukowski, William S. Burroughs, Gertrude Stein, Ernest Hemingway, Truman Capote.

Re-Watching.

2009-03-04T15:04:00.001-08:00

Pedro Almodóvar, Krzysztof Kieślowski, Ingmar Bergman, Jean-Luc Godard, François Roland Truffaut.

I'm in a good mood.

2009-02-19T20:41:00.000-08:00

I want to move to New York.

"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life."
- Albert Camus

I wanna smoke your cigarette.

2009-02-16T17:56:00.001-08:00

(I didn't take any of these pictures.)

I'd put more than your cigarette in my mouth.

Muy Hermoso!

2009-02-15T17:02:00.000-08:00

CUTE.

(I didn't take any of these pictures.)

Wild about Wilde!

2009-02-15T16:33:00.000-08:00

I'm a very big fan of Oscar Wilde! He's a very witty writer. He's so quotable too.

"If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you."

"The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about."

"There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating: people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing."

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

"I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones."

"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train."

"What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing."

"I am not young enough to know everything."

God took a relationshit on me.

2009-02-05T00:39:00.000-08:00

I continue my quest for love. Knowing only what I don't want:

I'm not depressed because I can't find the “one”. I never could picture myself settling down. I pictured myself “falling in love” a few times. Each man drastically different then the last. Each man would teach me something new, like how to cook Chorizo Burgers with Tomatillo Relish, or knit my socks, or ride a vespa , or play the violin. However, in last 6 years, ever since I first knew I liked boys, I have not come one step closer to meeting Mr. (temporarily) right.

I actually enjoy casual dating, but in the last two years the only romantic relationships that I've really wanted to pursue were with repressed, self-hating, depressive types. I don't know why this is but for some reason it's hard for me to like guys that are mentally and emotionally healthy. I enjoy having sane friends so the fact that I lust after unstable, or at least unhappy, guys is very frustrating.

Recently, someone asked me what I looked for in a potential boyfriend. It was very hard for me to articulate my thoughts on the matter.

“ Well, uh, I guess I just want to be with someone who's their own person. Who hasn't been totally influenced by hipster culture, or gay culture, or well by anything. I mean as long as they're complicated.” ....

   My friend stared at me, obviously deeply concerned.

“ You can't not be effected by anything. What does that even mean? And besides you can be stable and creative. You don't have to be attracted to guys who totally hate themselves. Like what does that even say about you?

I felt a little attacked.

I close my eyes. I like myself. I'm a nice, social, funny guy. I'm...

“ So why do you think you're attracted to such messed up guys?” My friend blurted out.

        “Uhh, well ....I just choose guys who are the exact opposite of everything I really hate.”

I change the topic.

Alive And Well.

2009-01-21T16:22:00.000-08:00

Today I woke up in a very good mood and I realized that I wanted to share this mood with everyone. Isn't it funny how many people have blogs nowadays? Not just the majority of my friends, but even their parents, our teachers, and the homeless guy who lives on Valencia Street. It's as if we are all going through life taking little breaks here and there to update each other and say “ I am alive and well and I even have time to tell you about it on the internet.”

In the last week, three of my closest friends made very adamant remarks about me getting back to the blogging world. I had forgotten about blogging altogether. The major reason for this was because I had assumed that the only fans I had for my blog were my teachers and parent's friends and they were not the audience that I wanted to be reading about about my trials and tribulations when I started blogging about a year ago. Therefore, after posting my favorite clip from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, I took a long vacation from blogging. ( I never wanted to be e-famous anyways I wanted to be actually famous.)

The other reason that I stopped blogging was because I felt that I was giving my readers false ideas about me. For starters everyone began to think I was attracted to beautiful European guys when in truth I am attracted to Latin guys that range from being ugly but hilarious to beautiful and hilarious.

You should also know that since I started this blog I have changed my major to Creative Writing and my minor to Cinema. Although I want to be a filmmaker, I want to go to graduate school to study film and as of now I want to Major in Creative Writing. I am strongly considering double majoring (Creative Writing & Cinema) but I will finalize this decision after I have taken introductory courses in both Creative Writing and Cinema. It's hard for me to choose a Major because in this life I want to tell stories using various different mediums.

In Kindergarten, I was asked what I wanted to be when I became an adult and I was scorned for my answer. Unlike the rest of the boys in my class I did not want to marry a girl and I did not want to be a fireman. ( I actually did want to be a fireman In pre-school because I thought I would get to keep all the cats that I saved from the trees but that's a different story.) Anyways, I told my totally forgettable kindergarden teacher that I wanted to be a storyteller and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life meeting new people and writing about them. I was patronizingly humored for saying this. Apparently even at five this was too vague answer, and my kindergarden teacher did not think that I truly understood that there were jobs that applied to what I wanted to do. Well, fuck you Mrs. ( I forgot my kindergarden teachers name) because at the age of 19 I still want to be a storyteller. I want to make films, write a novel, a book of short stories, and a memoir. I still want to keep meeting new people and I want to spend the rest of my life writing stories about these people.

Anyways,

“ I am alive and well and I even have time to tell you about it on the internet.”

Please let me keep this memory.

2008-10-06T15:36:00.000-07:00

You're Pretty.

I wish you knew.

Above the Influence

2008-08-26T23:35:00.000-07:00

Baby Sister: Has anyone ever told you that you swear too much?

Me: Hmmm, Only bitches!

lopsided tables & bubbles in milk

2008-06-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

Today my little sister and her friend were playing imaginary games while I was babysitting them. In one of the games my sister pretended to be a “psychiatrist” and her friend pretended to be her patient. I used to play “psychiatrist” too when I was in grade school. The fact that my father and stepmother are both psychiatrists obviously played some role in our interest in playing this game at such a young age.

I actually got in trouble a few times because of my fascination with mental illnesses. Once in third grade I was held after class for giving my “mentally ill friends” bad advice. According to my teacher none of my friends were manic depressive! Who would have guessed that!? For the rest of the year my teacher would ask me highly personal questions about living with my parents, in order to make sure I wasn’t being traumatized by my psychiatrist father. Unfortunately for her my father was one of my heroes and other than the fact that I thought my mother was bipolar, and that every cold that I had might be cancer (I guess not much has changed!), I lived a content life. For a few months my teacher tried to end my curiosity with mental illnesses. She eventually gave up after she read a short story I wrote about my cats celebrating Christmas. The punchline of the story was that my cats' problems were all resolved when they were given prescription drugs such as lithium for Christmas.

Now, ten years down the road, my sister is playing similar games with her friends. (Lucky for us we both inherited good looks, charm, and a sense of humor- so despite the fact we ask our friends to participate in psychoanalytical games, we have also been socialites since we emerged from our mother's womb.)

My sister asks her friend, “ What’s your problem?”
My sisters friend pauses and tries to think of a humorous response. “Lopsided tables! How can you help me doctor?”
My sister advises her friend to ask an adult to fix the table. The kids laugh and then decide to play the game again. My sister is still playing the doctor and now her friend is pretending to be a woman who comes to see a psychiatrist because she has a fear of bubbles in her milk.
“ I’m sorry but there is no way to fix your situation. You’re going to have to give up milk all together.”
The kids continue to laugh. Eventually the game starts to loose its magic. It’s becoming to repetitive. My sister asks me to play too. I sit down in the chair next to them. She asks me in a “grown-up” voice, “ What’s your problem?”
I start to laugh. “If only I could narrow it down to one.”
It’s bizarre to think that I was playing this game ten years ago with my friends and that back then my biggest concern was being a “good kid”. Now I could go on endlessly about all of my problems, worries, concerns, anxieties, and faults.

“ You have to say something, Meesh? Just make something up.”

“ My problem is that my life has gotten more complicated than lopsided tables and the bubbles in my milk.”

Your Existence Is Ironic

2008-02-28T01:33:00.001-08:00

I always feel like my generation is terrified of taking interest in any form of art that takes itself seriously. There are times where I just want to explode, because no one is willing to have a serious conversation with me about art. The films, books, and bands that many people I know are fond of have to be unpolished and self mocking.

It’s as if our generation has grown so afraid of being viewed as either tasteless or pretentious that we only admit to liking art that gives us the image of being “cute” or “quirky”. The other day someone told me that their favorite part of their favorite film was when "cum was sprayed all over the wall, and it looked like glue." They continued to list other memorable moments in the movie that were equally absurd. Obviously they chose this film because it was campy and didn’t take itself too seriously. Most of my peers are scared of being seen as pretentious or tasteless and by far the best way to avoid this altogether is to keep the escape hatch open and only admit to liking things that are “bad.” I mean if you choose to like forms of art that are “ so bad that they are back to good” no one can judge you.

I don’t think my peers are too immature to take art seriously. It’s just that overtime it has become unfashionable to admire anything that takes itself too seriously. We are a media generation where art is available at the click of a button. Courtesy of Steve Jobs and Bill gates, we are constantly being exposed to music and movies and books. It’s become so easy to judge each other on who we've heard and what we like, rather than what we think and what we stand for.

It’s kinda sad. Just be yourself. It’s cheating to profess to only like art forms that don’t take themselves seriously. But then again maybe I’m wrong. Maybe everyone around me just really likes bad cartoons, and badly made films, and bad pop music. Maybe I’m just incapable of seeing how something can be so bad that is back to good. Maybe it’s me being too serious. Maybe, but probably not.

Film students = Satan.

2007-12-27T17:37:00.000-08:00

I’ve been considering changing my major for the entire semester. Yes, I would like to direct and write my own films but I don’t know if that means I have to major in film. Most of my favorite directors majored in subjects like philosophy and creative writing, which is what I’d like to be doing right now. I’ll remain a film major for at least one more year. If things go awry I will switch my major to creative writing and eventually go to graduate school for film. I’m definitely planning on going to graduate school for film so I’m not sure if getting a BA in film is necessary anyways.

I haven’t had great experiences with the many film classes I’ve taken or with other film majors. I’ve taken four film classes at UCLA, two film classes in high school, and one class at Paramount studios and I entered SFSU with college credit from these film classes. These classes have taught me how to create bad formulaic films and that I despise most film majors. It seems that film majors are naturally the most competitive and pretentious people you’ll ever met.

Yes, I have met some amazing people who are film majors but in the long run most film majors that I’ve met aggravate me immensely. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of meeting film majors who will later on make straight to video sequels to Michael Bay’s films.

At my UCLA film class I came face to face with the ultimate douche “film major”. Her name was Andrea. She was pure evil. She deleted another student’s footage and even though she claimed it was on “accident”, she obviously disliked the student. She even made several remarks about how she hoped that the student would fail the class.

I could tell from the first day I met her that she was going to get on my nerves. After you said hello to her she instantly needed to tell you how her love for film stemmed from way back to when she was five years old, and that she could recall making horror movies on super 8 film at five and a half. I realized she was bad news when these stories changed depending on whom she was talking to. Sometimes she made horror movies on film and other times her first films were documentaries about AIDS made on DV tapes. This made a lot of sense, after all, in elementary school most students want to be more involved in spreading awareness about sexually transmitted diseases.

I could tell Andrea hated me too. In our first conversation, I corrected her and then at least ten of our peers started laughing at her. This was obviously not a good start to a friendship. I wasn’t trying to be cruel though. I just asked her what her favorite genre of film was. She replied that her favorite genre of film “was probably foreign films.” I told her that this was not a genre of film, but a type of film and she acted like I was a complete idiot. I laughed it off. “I know that foreign films may have a separate section at the video store you go too but if a comedy is in french it’s still a comedy, not just “a foreign film.” I mean thank God, right. If we were from a foreign country, we’d be limited to just one genre.” Andrea did not find my remark to be helpful or humorous.

Aside from the fact that she is competitive, jealous, and mean-spirited, Andrea also made awful short films. Andrea got away with creating two short films based on Sprint commercials. Yes, I had to sit for 60 minutes, analyzing two short films, and discuss the character development of a cell phone. Andrea even proudly admitted to our professor that these commercials were inspiration for her short films. I couldn’t handle it. Every student in the class had to give their input. The most pretentious student in the class couldn’t stop raving about the film. “ I really like the character arc of the cell phone. It was amazing how much depth was given to this inanimate object.” When it came to my turn, I had a hard time searching for the correct words. “Listen, I’m intrigued by the idea of making an inanimate object more complex. However watching a twenty minute movie based on a one minute commercial was hard for me. That was the most vapid cell phone I have ever seen. I can guarantee you that the blackberry cell phone in my pocket is more dynamic.”

I thought the vapid cell phone remark was clever. Andrea did not.

The point to all of this is:

A.) I am bad at forming friendships with film majors

And

B) I’d rather switch majors than sit through another lecture where I discuss the character arc of a cell phone for an entire hour.