Pretty Little Confession

Let's make this the first thing I say so it’s Swarovski crystal clear: I am outright embarrassed to be reading Pretty Little Liars. I was with my mom when I got it and I made her carry it, as if someone would recognize me at the Shreveport Barnes and Noble. I was on the phone with my friend at the time; she groaned “God Sara, you’re just too cool for your own good.” That’s right, I have an image to maintain and it does not involve looking at anything from the Teen section without a public display of disgust.

I find both the book and the television series much like Corn Nuts, the first bite is really bad but for some reason you just keep eating it until you’re convinced they’re really good, but you still realize there’s no nutritional value. Except Corn Nuts, I can shamelessly eat in public.

Grime Rings

Before I stumble into bed, I like dragging water over my eyes and looking at my reflection one last time to see what tonight's watercolor results are. It reminds me of the charcoal drip on windows of old buildings, and cliche album art.

1 New Message

Melissa
9:13pm

"Old creepy neighbor was asking about you again. You're lucky I'm not that mad. I could easily tell him you like older men and that you like to call them all the time."

Easy on the E's, Just Sayin'

I would just like to remind everyone that there is no "e" in the word "ridiculous."
"Rediculous" is not an existing word in the English language, though possibly one on the bottom of a Revlon nail polish bottle.
Spelling errors are common, and happen to the best of us. But in the event of calling something ridiculous and spelling it wrong in the process just makes you look more ridiculous than what/whomever you were calling "rediculous" in the first place.
Especially as you enter high school and college. Just sayin'.


Another word that doesn't have an "e" in it would be the slang term, "ho." Reason being, the word derives from the other word "whore;" referring to a person of similar behavior or occupation. The ever-commonly confused "hoe" refers to the gardening tool.
So if you do stoop to that level, at least spell it right. Otherwise you're painfully unoriginal insult will lose even more potency, and in effect make you look ridiculous. Just sayin'.

The Big Pink

In celebration of my new single-hood, I bought myself a Pocket Rocket.


His name is James, and apparently he's some type of 2004 edition emo kid. I thought those were extinct, but James persists.
Despite the clever packaging, Urban Decay has blessed us with a pretty rockin' product here; as they so often do. The quality I'm probably most impressed with is the consistency, which I'm most finicky on when it comes to lipgloss. Not too thin to the point that you have to reapply it every five minutes, and not so thick it could double as a gluestick.
I also like that it just gives off a nice flush shimmer, not a chrome sheen that highlights every crease in your lips.

Oh hey, did I mention he's holographic?

urbandecay.com

When it comes to upcoming movies, they fall into a ranking of four categories for me:

1-Oh my God, I must see this the minute it comes out.
2-I am definitely seeing that...when it rolls over to OnDemand.
3-Yeah, maybe I'll watch that on HBO when absolutely nothing else is on.
4-No, never.

There may be about 5 films out of the year that rate a 1, and I initially filed Kick-Ass between a 3 and 4. I found the trailer about as intriguing as the one for Hot Tub Time Machine, looking as if it would probably be load of poorly written wisecracks and typical slap-stick humor. I don't even like superhero films to begin with, they typically translate the exact same story (just in a different color of Spandex). However, after reading that the film "may do for superhero movies what Pulp Fiction did for crime films"--that's the big statement all the critics are tossing around--I had to see it for myself a few weeks ago.
After that, I had to see it again; this is a rare occurrence.

It was certainly very Quentin Tarantino-esque; brutal violence with anime-like cinematography and that whole new level of "girl power"he always includes. In fact, the character "Hit Girl" has been stirring up quite the controversy between her foul mouth and ability to annihilate grown men without even wincing. Being the desensitized millennial that I am, I wasn't as shocked by the juxtaposition of the character, or too concerned with an 11-year old being exposed to a few gallons of corn syrup. However, I notice the people that she really has tugging at their shirt collars mostly consist of men. I can't help but briefly wonder if Hit Girl was a boy, would there be as much of a fuss? Would the tables be turned?
Since boys have such a fixation with violence around that age (being that they haven't entered puberty yet) I don't think the result would be as shocking. Little girls are supposed to be the epitome of innocence--sugar, spice, and everything nice. Now add a pair of butterfly knives and some throwing stars and you have some very uncomfortable men.

Of course I find her empowering in a twisted way, and I'm curious if Hit Girl will trigger a new genre of some lethal Lolita's (not that she's the first). Perhaps our society could use a sociopath in pigtails to refute the usual influx of sexualized Bratz dolls.
Basically, she's my new Chuck Norris.

And I'd like to see you ask her to make you a sandwich.

Though Hit Girl is the outstanding favorite to many, she didn't entirely overshadow the other characters either. Kick-Ass, the actual main character, is the absolute antithesis of Hit Girl (and any superhuman for that matter). He serves as the typical geeky teenaged boy, he doesn't wake up with any super powers, he doesn't effortlessly exterminate thugs, and he's not emotionally detatched. But even as he's only winning by the skin of his teeth, if at all, he still remains somewhat inspiring. I took a certain admiration as he was crushing his polyblend mask in his hands and began crying on his bed after being introduced to and completely shown up by an 11-year-old and her father. In a typical superhero film, he probably would have been stoked and instantly joined forces, or may have been suspicious, only to later join forces. I was truly impressed that they put a little more thought into that, of course a boy would be crushed and embarrassed. That would probably make anyone want to cry in secrecy.

I didn't entirely hate Nicholas Cage's character either, which says a lot.

I may only be so impressed with the movie due to my originally low expectations. But even so, the movie seemed to take a lot more sociological consideration than most superhero films, which I find most commendable about it. Shockingly enough, I may even pick up the graphic novel after this...


(Update: for an interesting and much better evaluation of Hit Girl, check this out)

(Another update: the soundtrack was pretty good too, I remember hearing a lot of Prodigy)

Ghost in Disneyland

Beauty and the Beast, I think I could comfortably say is my favorite Classic Disney film. The estate was just gorgeous, but of course I would think that of a brooding mansion crawling with gargoyles.

That was the movie I’d watch over and over, don’t we all have that as a kid? I’d watch it until the credits rolled. It was that film I discovered that when you center yourself and focus on those credits, imagining the room is moving rather than the words, it creates the optical illusion of being on an elevator. Isn’t that fun?
Anyway, for the past few months I had been pondering what I might look like rendered as a Disney princess; being the near antithesis of a typical Disney princess. So I combined their various features and distinct stylization with my wardrobe, and voila:



Princess Ghost! I included my cat, Wonton, because they always have some sort of mischievous, right-hand animal. Right now it’s sort of at a “coloring book stage;” hand-drawn and raw. I’d like to paint a background using photoshop, I found the perfect tutorial in a back issue of Advanced Photoshop (which by the way, if you purchase one of their thicker magazines, you pretty much have a year’s subscription because they always circulate around the same artists). So I’ll probably go in and illustrate a typical location I’d skulk around: an old warehouse, graveyard, or a rotting house perhaps—the usual. And of course clean up the lines a bit and add color.
I’m considering a villain version as well, one with sharper features and a sinister scowl. You know, to balance of good and evil.

Strange Room

The once complete dining room with a grand cherry wood table, a filled China cabinet, and dark vintage wallpaper is now empty, beige, and full of light. It was one of my favorite rooms, though probably deemed outdated by the standards of this month's House Beautiful and Better Homes Than Yours--sorry, Better Homes and Gardens. So it just had to go, didn't it?

I take after my father's taste: the belief that we actually live in Versailles, and should decorate accordingly.

As inviting as a room without furniture could be during the day, the room transforms into an entirely black abyss at night. I think we all have those rooms, the kind you jet past when all the lights are out. We don't like to admit to it, but we do.

Pebbles, my blind, deaf, epileptic, and cancerous cocker spaniel often makes herself comfortable, as comfortable as she can, in it's corner; matching the blonde color scheme of the room. She just sort of blends in, sitting there, cocking her head at unhead signals.

I once saw a man disappear into the room, just caught the shoulder of his white dress shirt pass the doorframe.

But these sorts of things are just normal around my house.

Bento Box

This is the story of my bento box, it is beautiful:

The whole set cost me around $40 with shipping and handling from JBOX.com. A bit steep for a casual lunchbox by anyone’s standards, I would think it’s safe to say, however it was the biggest one I could find with the least amount of Hello Kitty on it.

You can count me out for carving the Mona Lisa out of rice every morning--hell, I barely get up early enough to toss leftovers in there--but I do like my food tasteful. No pun intended. I take into consideration the fine art of jamming food into a delightful little container, but I don’t limit myself to only Japanese cuisine. Often, I favor leftover tortellini or gnocchi (which reheats splendidly) with a bit of salad; but before I’m confused with some kind of Stepford wife, I also commit utter blasphemy in the name of bento box preparation by tossing in a handful of Goldfish and a Hot Pocket on occasion.

Overall, it's a much cheaper diet to maintain and typically healtheir than most of the sludge I would otherwise consume on my lunch breaks.

I love to be twisted, utterly twisted

Twisted like a Triplette from Belleville.

Black Ties and White Lies

Who let this freak on YouTube?

Alice

Compliments from the company I work for, I was privileged an early screening of the latest Alice in Wonderland yesterday and despite what the critics are saying, and even my own lack of anticipation, I really enjoyed the movie. I actually think it was one of the better productions of Burton out of his most recent films.
The imagery was nothing short of stunning, I can barely begin to imagine the amount of work that went into the designs of this film. And the characters were nothing short of delightful. I was probably most impressed with (didn't catch her name...Ah! There it is, don't you love Google?) Mia Wasikowska's portrayal of Alice, not only as new actress, but how she skipped over the stereotypical, overdramatized reactions of a "girl," and delivering a cool collectiveness that I found to be far more endearing.

However, if you must pick apart every character out of your own pretention just as your high school English teacher instructed, you must at least admire the art. But some...apparently can't even do that, such as James Rocchi's painful read, "'Alice' in Blunderland," that I was greeted with on this morning's homepage.

Why I bother wasting my breath (or finger-strokes, rather) on an MSN critic who not only has to explain his own use of quotations, but does so in the introduction of his argument is beyond me. Though, it reminds me how I feel these ever-renowned "critics" are no longer "critiquing" as much as they are flat-out, thoughtlessly bitching on highly anticipated or popularly adored books and movies simply to achieve the shock value of going against the grain. Kind of like a novice hipster that heavily criticizes the bass player of his favorite band or complains of people selling out in order to appear as if he is immensely knowledgeable about music.

My only complaint would be the title, which is well misleading considering that it isn't even based on Alice in Wonderland. Something like "Return to Wonderland" would be much more suiting, not stunningly original though I think most could agree.

So, if it's not obvious by this point, I recommend seeing this in theatres, larger-than-life, and through dopey 3-D glasses. And I'll have you know I rarely find films worth anything more than forgetting about them until they appear on OnDemand six months later.

If you're asking, that is.

The Feral and the Factory

My usual desolated warehouse location was a tad overpopulated being a workday; I was used to the normal weekend abandonment where my friends and I could hang out for hours without interruption. All of my pictures of that place went down with my laptop's motherboard.
The Great Crash, when I learned to start backing my precious photos on a portable hardrive.

Last time, that place, it was nothing short of sweltering. Probably one of the hottest memories I own: our skin sticky and salty from ocean water, surrounded by nothing but hot, grey concrete reflecting an even hotter sun with a wisely selected steaming bucket of fried chicken for the lunch menu. But we enjoyed ourselves somehow; we went rummaging about like raccoons and found a crate of these massive, rusty crane hooks. I instantly fell in love and took one for my collection of Ugly Things. It must have been a sight to see pale teenagers hauling those magnificent hooks in bikinis, but the sight was fortunately unseen.

The lovely hook currently resides on a nub of a tree in back yard. I see it
everyday.

This day was sunny, typically "beautiful" by most standards, but cool. Despite the singing sunshine, the factory still managed a dismal loom in our approach. You must admire that, something that can actually loom in broad daylight.
I've heard the hills are alive with the sound of music; I know the empty horse stable by my house is alive with festering furniture and a cloud of insects; that chemical plants are alive with loud churning and rumbling; and even most deserted of factories are alive with some sort of abysmal echo; but this factory seemed to epitomize all abandonment.
It was hollow, and that’s it.

Trey looks like a runaway, like this is his palace. Sometimes, often times, I like to imagine children that grow up in these places. Sometimes primitive, wild things with clothes made of scrap metal and plastic. Is that strange, to fantasize about being one of them?

Fascinating creatures in glorious isolation.

Sara Cremer will be representing the minimalists...

And so I am now officially one of those bloggers, indulging in yet another trendy, electronic outlet of narcissism and probably already sounding pretentious and its only my first sentence.
My first post. This is intended to be read quickly and swiftly:

My name is Sara Cremer but I will be signing off as Ghost, because isn't that what we all are in cyber-space? I'm told the internet is a series of tubes. "Ghost" seemed even further suitable due to my pale skin and hair, someone once described me as "a shade of Casper," and I like ghosts. Kind of. I like the way is sounds, it even sounds like a ghost, like there's a slight translusence to the word itself. Ghhhhhosssst--see when I write it like that it looks like "shhhhhh" which makes it look and sound as if only to be whispered. Like a secret. What we do is secret.
Some words suit their definition so well.

Why did I start a blog? Because I have a surplus of words and if I don't let them
fall
off
my
tongue
I may explode. You should see me in class, I'm one of those annoying kids that always has something to say. Always.

Why is it called Static and Chandelier? I like static, the kind on the TV. And I like chandeliers, but I only have one, making it singular. It's made of plastic.
I selected the "Minima Black," do you like it? It's very classic (please emphasize the "k" sounds when reading "classic" in your head for full enjoyment).

I lied about this being my first post. I've made previous posts before, but not on here. On MySpace, which is also full of ghosts because everyone has moved to Facebook. And so the latest trend in humor is directed towards the obsolescence of MySpace and how everyone should just move to Facebook. What's Facebook?
Don't answer.
But whenever log onto MySpace to post a bulletin about how long it's been since the last time you were online, you should give me a bit of a visit.

We'll have some fun, you and I.