My head hurts. I drank too much Sancerre and Manny's last night at my birthday party. Let's take a look around the house.
My new Krista Larson birthday skirt on the dresser in the bedroom. Do you want me to name all the other shit in these photos too? Ikea curtains that were supposed to be very temporary, but we've left them up for two years. A rug I got in Turkey. An old Marimekko wall hanging that we bought for $3 last year in The Dalles, Oregon (and no sales tax!). I wear those cowboy boots all the time. I often like to dress like a cowboy or a Viking. My Ply Design backpack that I wear pretty much every single day.
I think this fabric is gorgeous.
I bet this bed, which is new, will not get made today. My husband ripped off the design for the bed from Ligne Roset and had local cabinet and furniture makers Kerf Design make it for us. Until recently, we were pretty poor, and now that we're finally not so poor, we sometimes make up for lost time by indulging in that kind of extravagance. We were having trouble finding a nice-looking bed that came in California King size, so we were like, fuck it, let's get one made. Fuck it. It wasn't so long ago that I used to scrounge change out of the crevices of my third-hand couch so I could afford a Taco Bell burrito. We work hard, and I don't need to feel bad that we bought a custom-made bed. OK.
We did a mini remodel of the bathroom and put in this gorgeous tile on the floor but left the ugly faux marble on the wall. We want to do a big remodel on the house -- like moving a staircase and changing windows to doors and stuff -- so this tile will probably have to go. We will try to salvage it because I love it so.
These chargers were for making whipped cream for the cupcakes. That CD box set was a birthday gift. Swinging Hollywood: Hillbilly Cowboys. Yee-haw!
Those pretty flowers are the only nice thing about our little old galley kitchen. We're talking to an architect on Friday to see about expanding it.
Whenever we have a party, I double-cover the dining room table. This looks so tacky. I really ought to trim the plastic underlayer so it doesn't stick out from under the cloth tablecloth. Hopefully people were too busy enjoying the lovingly prepared jamon serrano - fig - chevre - baguette appetizers to notice.
Our dining room often feels like Grand Central Station, with five or six doors surrounding it.
The painting is by Todd Karam. After I bought it, I found out that he's a friend of two of my friends.
There's some cool stuff here.
My friend Bettie, who works for the L.A. Times, did the interviews for this booklet about porn stars and their pets.
When my dad was a kid, he ate off this silver plate that depicts the very goriest scenes from Little Red Riding Hood.
Here's the woodsman showing the wolf corpse off to Grandma, or whatever happens at the end of that story.
My friend Luca made me this vase for my birthday. He runs a glass shop. He made us the red one as a housewarming gift.
Another birthday gift, from Heather and Shawn. Vladmaster does surreal 3-D photography for Viewmaster reels.
My husband is a very stylish (and handsome) man. He dresses a million times fancier than I do.
We took out our regular carpet for the party, and we haven't put it back yet. I made the five silkscreens in a class last year. I pulled five stills from Gimme Shelter, an old Maysles brothers documentary about the Rolling Stones. These people are in the front row of a Stones concert (with Ike and Tina Turner opening) at Madison Square Garden in 1969. I've decided that it's called "Rock Star." When I see it, sometimes I feel like Mick Jagger.
Since I may never do another silkscreen again, let's take a closer look at each of these right now.
My friend Heather made the neon art. When I went to her show, she told me it was called "Superstar" and that the buyer should supply her with a photo of their personal hero, which she would affix to the center. I was pretty full of myself at the time and told her she should put a mirror there for me. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you see red-glowing stars in your eyes. The birthday card's from Bradley and Molly. (I met Bradley on my wedding day. He was the photographer. We have been friends ever since.) When you open it up, it plays "Everybody Wang Chung Tonight" by Wang Chung. The little gunpowder bombs are from Beacon Hill activists Mira and Mike.
I showed old home movies from San Jose in the fireplace last night. Want some highlights?
Our Satellite Sebring. Reportedly, I cried when they traded in this car.
An earlier birthday party of mine. I think I'm 2 here.
San Jose or Village of the Damned?
I bet this area doesn't look like this anymore.
When I was a kid, I used to get embarrassed when we watched this part of the home movies.
One last shot, from Disneyland. My dad filmed a shot of this stranger's ass.
Luca made this crazy lamp.
Christine gave me this stack of old magazines.
Shelly gave me this invitation to her wedding. It's going to have a film noir / pulp fiction / 1940s theme.
Chris and Lonny slept here. My friend Boris painted that portrait of me one afternoon in Prague many years ago.
We met the Hernandez brothers at the Fantagraphics store a couple months ago. My husband bought a Love and Rockets poster.
My computer's tuned to my favorite Web site, Whoreticulture. The mouse pad was a gift from my crazy friend Barney, who was once interrogated by the FBI, which I think is cool. (When that all was going down, he sent a frantic e-mail to a bunch of his friends, telling us all his story up to that point, should we not hear from him again.)
Our friend Matt did this painting.
The cutest kitty in the whole world (seriously), Hellion the Kitty Rama. He used to be my cat, but he's lived with Stephanie for the last 13 years. I cannot get another kitty until Rama dies because I would not love the other kitty as much as I love sweet Hellion.
OK, enough sentimental shit. We haven't even gone downstairs yet.
The yucky downstairs bathroom.
The Viking hat that I wore most of last night.
My birthday present, a drum set! Rock on.
This is where I kicked ass at Nintendo Wii bowling last night. I got a 197, which is pretty good for a drunk lady.
This is why my head hurts today.
I'm nearly as tall as the bizarre and exotic Veruschka. There the resemblance ends, unfortunately.
Yucky downstairs kitchen.
I know you're wondering how the Ceanothus is doing.
One of Heather's oil paintings.
Polaroid transfers of slides I took in Chicago a few years ago.
My friend Stephanie's paintings.
OK, I should clean up some more now.