Thursday, December 27, 2007

• TAKE A BOW

  Currently Reading I Am America (And So Can You!) By Stephen Colbert see related

  There are a couple of communities in the San Fernando Valley that have piqued my interest lately.  One of them is North Hollywood, which is the largest community in the Valley.  What’s interesting about North Hollywood is that it bears no resemblance to its namesake community.  Unlike Hollywood, you will not find trendy clubs or dive bars in NoHo.  Chances are that you will not see a movie star walking down Lankershim Boulevard, nor will you see scenesters watching a concert at the local theater or yuppies sipping coffee at the corner Starbucks.  There are not any notable famous buildings or tourist attractions.  While Hollywood is all about glitz and glamour, North Hollywood is all about shits and slammers.   It is unclear to me why North Hollywood is named after Hollywood.  While it is north of Hollywood, per se, it is not even adjacent to Hollywood.  There are a number of communities south of the Boulevard, such as Universal City and Toluca Lake, which sit between North Hollywood and Hollywood (in addition to the big giant hill that separates the Valley from the LA basin).  While I don’t have anything against North Hollywood, the name “North Hollywood” is just lame because it doesn’t make sense.  It should have been named “Mexicarmenia” (or something to that effect).

  The other community is Panorama City.  I heard a rumor that there was a secret midget community in Panorama City.  I took a trip once to try to find it, but I failed in my search for the legendary community.  However, instead of finding tiny people McNuggets, I found a lot of Filipinos.  I’ve always been aware of Filipino enclaves such as Cerritos, West Covina, and Eagle Rock, but I was surprised to know that there was one in the Valley.  Panorama City has all the characteristics of a Filipino American town:  (1) It has a bunch of Flips, (2) it has a Red Ribbon Bakery, and (3) it has a Jollibee restaurant.  The remarkable thing is that the entire Filipino community seems to converge at the intersection of Roscoe and Woodman.  I’m curious as to why Filipinos chose to gather in Panorama City.  Maybe it’s because there’s a Kaiser hospital (which is also at Roscoe and Woodman) there that employs a lot of Filipina nurses.   How the hell should I know?  I’m not an urban planner.

  Why the hell do I like talking about the Valley so much?  I don’t really know.  Traditionally, the Valley has been known to suck, and it’s been the butt of many jokes in LA.  That’s understandable.  It’s the home of C-List Hollywood trash and porn stars.  It’s extremely hot in the summer and bitingly cold in the winter (well, by LA standards).  The air quality is so bad that taking an afternoon stroll on a summer day in Van Nuys will have the same effect on your lungs as smoking a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights.  And, there’s nothing in the Valley.  It’s where Los Angelenos go to live and sleep after working and partying in other parts of LA.  But, I’ve been living in this corner of LA for two years now and I suppose I’ve warmed up to it becoming my “home”, which, I guess, might say something about how comfortable I am becoming with myself…

  I suppose it’s normal to be a bit reflective at the end of the year.  Anything of any significance in my life over the past year can be found within the pages of what I’ve written on this blog.  Some of the wacky things I’ve said include:
  

  • Long lost friends who don’t keep in touch with you are probably dead.
  • Blind Christian faith should be medically diagnosed as a mental disorder.
  • American Idol is a sport for non-sports fans.
  • College student mass-murderers make depressed people (like me) look bad.
  • Gay people should take pride in the fact that it is illegal for them to get married.
  • If God is real, then he must not exist.
  • An engagement ring is a woman’s divorce insurance.
  • Having children is the most selfish and egotistical thing a person can ever do.
  • Love is the realization that someone else’s existence is more important than your own.
    

  I have been fortunate enough to have more than two people who regularly read this blog.  Quite honestly, I’m a little bashful that I have any readers at all, as this blog is simply an outlet for me to express some of the thoughts that I can’t ever coherently convey in real life.  The little attention I’ve received in the blogsphere is significant and meaningful to a despondent and lonely person such as me who feels marginalized in the real world.  My mind probably spends too much time in a world that does not exist.  I’m still not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, or if it means anything at all.  If anything, it’s always nice to know that someone has taken the time to invest some thought into something I’ve said.

  New Year’s Day is emblematic for a new beginning, and it gives people impetus to rejuvenate their lives with New Year resolutions.  However, the dawn of a new year must also mean the passing of an old year.  Before anything can start, it has to end.  Before anything can be built, it has to be destroyed.  When I look at my life over the past couple of years, I see a life filled with depression, morose, shame, doom, and any other words associated with being “emo”.  I haven’t been able to start over because I haven’t been able to end.  I realize that this has gone on for far too long; I can’t rebuild until I destroy.  In 2008, I resolve to do what everyone has been expecting for a long time.  I will finally kill myself, one way or another.  But rest assured, I will still write about the things that inspire me:  the Universe, the San Pornando Valley, female singer/songwriters, Prozac, Cerritos, Starbucks, and a girl named Jarnette. 
  

  I want to sincerely wish everyone who is reading this a wonderful New Year.  Go watch Juno.  It’s a terrific coming-of-age movie that’s intelligent and funny and thinks like I think.  It has a good soundtrack, too. 
  

  See you in twenty-oh-eight. (Or not.)

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