Monthly Archives: October 2011

I’m A Giant Update

Dear Dolls Waiting To Move Into My Dollhouse,

Due to reasons beyond my control, there has been a slight delay in the construction of your home. Emily and I have been swamped with full-sized human clients and it turns out your house has been swept to the back burner until we get our human interior design projects further along. Don’t be sad, Dolls, I did see this wonderful fixer-upper at Rose Bowl over the weekend (for $68!). If you like, you can rent it while you wait for your glamour barn to be built. I know it’s not your style, but it will do for now:

Okay, so onto the slow construction down on the farm. Firstly, I added trim to the outside of the house. I am going to beat this up with a mini axe and then distress the whole thing and paint it grey so it looks like aged wood. I might even create some simulated holes in the outside of the barnhouse. I want the outside of my house to look as revolting as possible because, as you know, true beauty shines from within.

Oh yeah, and I added sleek doors. Creating them was a bit tricky because I had to encase them since the whole house is on a slant. I think they turned out pretty glamorous though.

For the outside, I want to do ring door pulls like this:

For the interior, I want to do sleek leather-wrapped chrome door pulls like this:

So, in conclusion, Dolls, I’m sorry your house is taking so long. It’s not easy building something from scratch. But it’s going to be worth the wait, I promise!

Love,
Orlando

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Cover Me In Music

Dear Maxence Cyrin,

This morning I woke up with grandiose plans of cleaning my whole apartment, making three pieces of artwork, finishing that boring New Yorker article about Keynesian economics (I’m sorry, sometimes economics makes my eyes glaze over), and going to the gym for 7 hours. But then I came across your cover of Where Is My Mind by the Pixies and I couldn’t stop listening to your songs. So now here I am, stuck inside on this gorgeous, clear Autumn day in Los Angeles. Listening to the most beautiful music in the world. It’s the perfect combination of high-brow, dramatic piano and mid-brow pop music. Hearing the piano version made me love all these songs even more, including Beyonce’s Crazy In Love, which I must admit I didn’t even like before. Here are a delightful collection of songs, some of which have delightful vintage music videos.

The Pixies “Where Is My Mind”

Justice “D.A.N.C.E.”

Arcade Fire “No Cars Go”

Beyonce “Crazy In Love”

Foster The People “Pumped Up Kicks”

Nirvana “Lithium”

You can hear more music at Maxence Cyrin’s Youtube and Myspace pages. (Sidenote: every time I am reminded Myspace still exists my brain explodes. Which kind of makes me wish it would just go out of business. Because having your brain explode repeatedly is rather annoying).

Love,
Orlando

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Are You Vegan? Or Racist?

Dear Human,

Do you ever wish there was a better way to describe things as “awesome” or “lame”? Well, I’ve thought of a new system. Actually my brother thought of it like tens years ago and now I’m sharing it with you. Basically, anything good and righteous should be referred to as “vegan.” Anything lame and vile is “racist.” These are good descriptives because what could be worse than a racist? Or more righteous and awesome than a vegan? I may eat whole animals and blocks of cheese, but I still consider myself a vegan. In spirit at least. I used to be a real vegan but then I stopped caring about it so I gave it up. Maybe someday when I move to a cabin in the woods and grow all my own food I’ll be a vegan again. Or not. All I know is that I like the idea of it (better for the environment, more humane, etc). Just because I’m not a vegan anymore doesn’t mean I can’t use the word for good. Thus, I make statements such as “Did you see they put ‘My So-Called Life’ on Hulu? That’s so vegan!” and “Ugh! This hot weather is so racist. I can’t even go outside!” And so on. Try and use those words in a sentence today. You’re welcome.

Love,
Orlando

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LA Street Art: Bad

Dear Whoever Spray Painted “Bad” On That Apartment Down The Street From Me,

Not terribly original, but it still made me happy. I love you.

Love,
Orlando

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HommeBoy: Flula!


Dear Flula,

I had no idea who you were until yesterday, when I discovered you on one of my friends facebook walls. It seems like you’ve been around for quite some time and might be late to the game but I’m happy I found you. You are the funniest person in the whole world. For those of you who don’t know Flula, he’s a German DJ/comedian who lives/works in Los Angeles. At first I thought his German accent was a put-on, but apparently it’s real. He’s super witty and ridiculous, which is evidenced in the videos below.

This is a fake ad for a soft drink. Awesome. “DANCE!”

Flula screaming about the Rapture.

Two poems lamenting summer heat. These hit close to home for me because I’m ALWAYS sweating and constantly cursing hot weather. I’m a cold weather person.

This is a random video about a badger. It will fill your heart with joy.

In conclusion, I regret every moment that Flula existed before I found out about him but he’s my new favorite person in the whole world. He’s insanely entertaining. I have no idea what his music sounds like but if it’s anywhere near as genius as his comedy I’m totally into it.

Love,
Orlando

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The Golden State: 1980s

Dear Reader,

Now it’s time for the real golden age of California. The 80s. Here is a Joan Didion quote about how we conceptualize places (as I have conceptualized California):

“A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.”

- Joan Didion

So onto the golden 80s.

Here is a picture of my sister and my cousin in my grandmother’s house. That wallpaper is horrifying/awesome.

My mother at a friend’s house. The carpet, the lamp, the chairs. All amazing.

That’s me on the left. I’m totally jealous of my sister’s awesome t-shirt.

My parents gutted their kitchen in the 80s. This was the height of kitchen glamour. Some of it still works – I’d totally have those pendants in my house.


Californians in the 80s loved visiting New York (where we are here). I love my mother’s hair.

I would totally wear my brother’s “Hot” ensemble in this picture.

I love these old stacked stone walls, this one is on my great grandparents property in Upstate New York.

Hanging out with my dad in our front yard, looking for insects.

That’s me listening to the radio.

Californians love family portraits and often rely on props to tell the proper story.

Baby in a bucket.

My first birthday party. Californians love a good excuse to throw a huge party.

Classic my mother (that’s me in the backpack).

I’d like to go back in time so I could kidnap myself and dress me just like this.

In California, we bike everywhere.

My mother made all these costumes. Californians know that you really love your children you can never give them anything that’s store-bought or prefabricated.

My brother holding me. Then my head fell off.

Baby in a backpack. Enough said.

I love my mother’s dress here. She made it herself.

Californians in the 80s liked to grow their own vegetables. Just ask Alice Waters. We also had chickens. My parents hated them.

First day of school. Love those clothes!

I imagine that my mom made this shirt (she made a lot of our clothes) and I want another one.

This is when we moved into the wilderness, Yosemite National Park.

Total 80s wedding. Glamour.

My parents toasting their new house. In a denim skirt and vintage Patagonia.

Shoveling the first snow (this got old real quick).

My parents, always outdoors, cross-country skiing.

My siblings in our Yosemite backyard.

Dressed for an Easter wedding. Again, I’d totally wear this now.

Ok, so that’s 80s California according to my family.

Love,
Orlando

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Oh My Good!: Chipotle Commercial

Dear Diary,

Last night I went to see the film Weekend. It was a pretty awesome movie if you like to watch gay British hipsters fall in love. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about. Before the main feature played, a short film was screened. The soundtrack to this short film is a Willie Nelson cover to Coldplay’s “The Scientist,” which was the soundtrack to my very first breakup after my very first time falling in love in college. Naturally, because I had such a strong connection with the song and because this little short film was so somber, I got hysterical and ran out of the theatre, ugly-crying all the way to the bathroom. Ok, I didn’t actually do that. I did almost cry though, which is a lot for me because I believe everyone should hide their emotions as much as possible. It’s a perfectly healthy thing to do. You can imagine my slight disgust when I realized that this incredible little film was a Chipotle commercial. Not that I have anything against Chipotle (after all, the did break free from McDonalds, which is laudable). There’s just something creepy about getting all emotional and then realizing that you were watching a burrito commercial. Just the word “burrito” makes you feel silly. Say it to yourself three times right now. BURRITO! So here’s the film:

And here’s how they made it. Pretty fun to watch. So much artistry, time, and attention to detail went into this project.

In conclusion, I still feel like a dork for crying at a Chipotle commercial, but it was really good, so leave me alone.

Love,
Orlando

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