I am cleaning out my apartment in order to turn my 187 square foot COMPARTMENT into a PALACE. How do I do this? I’m glad you asked! It is a very complicated process, but I like to think of it more as a voyage of discovery. I am thinking that as I clean out my junk, my crap, my shit, my detritus, and my late 90’s and early ought clothing, I will actually find a door that leads down a hallway into ANOTHER ROOM and I will discover that this entire time I was actually living in a ONE BEDROOM PALACE and not a COMPARTMENT. Then all of the sudden I will realize I am getting a very, very good deal on my PALACE. By the look on your face, I see that you are very excited.

What I discovered on my voyage of discovery is that I am really just keeping the same amount of shit, but reorganizing it so they are in different boxes. This creates a problem. In order to turn my compartment into a PALACE I actually have to get rid of things, as in move items from my compartment to a location off the premises, most likely the trash or Goodwill. What I found is that I actually don’t have a lot of stuff. My apartment makes it seem as if I have two tons of shit crammed in a one ton truck. But actually, I have probably half a cup of shit, but my apartment can only take 3 teaspoons of it. Therein lies my problem.

I wish that as a like, totally famous writer, oh my god, I lived in more glamorous conditions, but instead I live in a compartment surrounded by my own shit. I have to say it’s really nice shit though. I mean look at my table. It’s from IKEA. Nice right? It even has a funny name. I also found a big bag of Homies which I decided I could not part with and instead, I will be giving them away to my peoples. If you want a homie, email me and I will mail you one for the low, low price of free. Because, like I said, you are my peoples.

I am walking down the street with Mr. Morrison. We are discussing dry cleaning for some reason. Since my family is Korean and know the owners of every dry cleaner in the greater Los Angeles area, I wait until I visit to dry clean EVERY ITEM OF CLOTHING I OWN. Seriously. I hate paying for dry cleaning. It’s like paying for toilet paper. I wonder, why the hell do I have to pay for this crap if I’m gonna wipe my butt with it? Seems unreasonable. It should be free. Everyone uses air, and that’s free. Why should toilet paper be any different? If you vote me president, I promise free toilet paper and in addition, ending the war. I’d also levy a huge fine on people who don’t pick up after their dogs and people who do not laugh at my jokes. You think I’m joking? Being president is a very serious job, I don’t know if you know that. That’s not to say that I use my dry cleaning to wipe my ass, but I could since my dry cleaning is free and therefore cheaper than toilet paper. I think I’m overexplaining here, I hate when I do that. OK back to the story.

Anyway, a late nineties Civic is stuck in traffic on Sixth Avenue (ha ha ha I mean Avenue of the Americas). There is very bad music coming out. It sounds like Korn or something like that. I don’t even know what Korn sounds like, but I’m 99% sure it’s Korn. Korn is really hardcore because of their use of the K. All really hardcore things use a K, like kasserole, kite, kanana, and kookie. So you know Korn is like, wow, you guys must really rock. Not like that fake Led Zeppelin “band,” I mean they don’t even have a K IN THEIR NAME. Maybe if they were Ked Zeppelin they’d be a lot bigger and things would be different. Anyway this dude in the passenger seat rolls down his window and yells at us, HEY! YOU READ MUCH?

I am like, huh? So, I say, Huh? I SAID, DO YOU READ MUCH? Then he laughs and they drive off. I kind of don’t get it, until Morrison points out that we both wear glasses and that the car is from Jersey. Because most people who drive up Avenue of Americas (ha ha ha I mean Sixth Avenue) in my hood, are coming from the Holland, which is like a big urinary tract that empties in Jersey. That is to say, if you are from Jersey you might think reading is, like, a bad thing and you should make fun of people who might actually do it and, holy shit, actually enjoy it. OH MY GOD YOU TOTAL LOSER. And if you wear glasses you must read “much” and therefore you should be stuffed in a locker. The point is, I don’t think everyone from Jersey sucks, but that if you are listening to Korn and you are from Jersey and you might, just might, BE A TOTAL DOUCHEBAG.

And the sad part, is that I don’t read enough. I don’t even write enough. Given that is what I do for a living, it is a very complicated and sad situation.

I can’t tell if the universe is like, hey Annie, I am down with you let’s be BFF 4-eva k thx or if the universe is like, hey Annie, I hate you and I will slap you on the mouth.

About two weeks ago, I had band practice. You know how moving is a pain in the ass, with all the packing up heavy stuff and moving heavy stuff and then unpacking heavy stuff? Well basically everytime I have band practice it is like moving. It SUCKS. Monthly spaces are too expensive, so we use hourly spaces and that means we have to HAUL HEAVY SHIT across town. So to make my life easier, Heather keeps my xylophone for me because she doesn’t have to bring anything with her, except for her voice, which is pretty portable last time I checked. Meanwhile Andy and I have to bring like two tons of shit. Which is fine. I will move heavy things in the name of rock. DO YOU SEE HOW DEDICATED I AM?

Anyway she accidentally left it in a cab two weeks ago and we basically went into oh-shit mode. That is when you say “Oh shit” several times in a row, in case you are wondering. We filed a report with the Lost Property Unit. This sounds more official than it really is. Basically you call, leave a sobbing message about your lost property, and then no one calls you back because there are more important things the NYPD does than look for your stupid xylophone, like track down criminals and tow cars. Then we called every taxi garage in Long Island City and Manhattan to no avail. There’s literally like 50 garages in Manhattan alone. So as a last-ditch effort, I posted an ad on Craigslist’s Lost & Found, which is like a forum of desperation. It’s full of people who have lost their cute pets and their iPods and their wallets and their grandmother’s wedding ring and it’s like you KNOW no one is ever going to find anything. But I posted anyway. Long shot. Now we have a show coming up so I thought, OK. I have buy another one. THIS SUCKS. So I bought one on Ebay.

Last night I got an email from a woman who was trolling on Craigslist and she happened to work for Checker Cab. And she happened across my ad AND OH MY GOD SHE HAS MY XYLOPHONE. One of her drivers brought it in. I almost peed myself. I was like HOLY SHIT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? What are the odds?

Then I thought. WAIT A SECOND. I just BOUGHT a new one and can’t return it because it was from Ebay. So that is when I realized the universe was taking a piss on me. I am standing here, wet from piss. I can tell you right now the universe had asparagus for dinner last night.

So now I have TWO xylophones. TWO! That’s one more than I need, and like TWO more than normal people need.

If you are not normal and want a xylophone I will sell one to you.

If you already have a xylophone, and want another one, I will sell one to you.

And in an unrelated note, we just got an email from a kid “What do emo people do? What is emo exactly?”

Do you ever look at something again for the very first time and you are like, ohhhhhhhh and then you have some kind of “spiritual awakening” and feel alive and your whole take on life changes and you feel “refreshed” or “rejuvenated” like you just woke up the F up and you think, damn, where the hell have I been?

Yeah, neither have I.

However, I am sitting here working and realized, you know what? My compartment apartment is shaped like the state of Utah. Very curious.

Interestingly, Utah’s state motto is “Industry.” Which might be (slightly) better than D.C.’s pathetic “Taxation without Representation.”

I live in Utah! It kind of sucks here.

Sometimes I am in the mood for a soda and I think hey, I will drink a soda. Why not? I should “live a little.” But then I discovered Diet Coke Plus and I got very sad. Do you know about this? It is totally ridiculous. It’s Diet Coke PLUS vitamins. Look, I drink Diet Coke specifically because it does not have vitamins. I do not want my Diet Coke to be healthy. I want it to rot my teeth until they’re little nubs and I have to throw all my food in a blender to eat it or get the fancy titanium bone graft implants that my dad has (who interestingly enough, rarely drinks soda). I want my body to be filled with all that glorious high fructose corn syrup and caffeine and whatever MSG type crap they put in their “secret recipe” that makes Coke so MF flavorful and delicious. I want all of this, yes. Listen, Diet Coke, you are not fooling anyone. I know your little games. Coke will never be healthy unless you replace it with water and call it Coke. Just saying. I guess the idea is that someone will want a Coke and think, hey, why not get Coke with vitamins? Anyway, the moral of this sad, sad story is that you should take vitamins if you want vitamins and drink Coke if you want Coke. And never the two shall meet. OR I guess we can go the other way and add Coke to salad. Like if you’re going to eat vitamins, might as well eat corn syrup and caffeine. It is an idea. Diet Coke with Salad.

I have a new blog post up at Emeco. This time it’s an open letter to Philippe Starck. Also if you are Australian and you are an architect and you are part of the Royal Australian Institute of Architects, then check out this week’s newsletter. I have written an open letter to all of you. I will post up the PDF’s here when I get them. This whole newsletter thing is very random. And since the first piece of hate mail I ever received was from an Australian architect, it makes it all the more awesome and strange at the sametime.

Today at the office we got an email from a kid asking “What did dinosaurs eat in 1778?” That pretty much made my day. I can’t remember the last time my day was made this damn hard. Once we got an email asking “What is sexual airforce?” and it took about four hours and five people to figure out the kid meant “sexual intercourse.” Sexual Airforce is the greatest band name ever and I HAVE DIBS DO NOT POACH. Anyway back to the first question, I have no idea why it’s 1778. I’m not sure why that year is particularly important. I mean 1776 yeah, but 1778? It was more of the same as 1777. Seriously. According to Wikipedia, in 1778 Captain Cook discovered Hawaii. I love the whole idea of discovering a place where people already live. Can you imagine some dude coming to New York City and being like “HOLY CRAP I JUST DISCOVERED NEW YORK CITY! WE SHOULD NAME IT AFTER ME. LUCKILY MY NAME IS NEW YORK CITY.”

Anyway, I don’t answer emails from kids because everyone agreed that my answers would be inappropriate. But here are some answers I came up with.

What did dinosaurs eat in 1778?
-children who did not study
-god, and then Darwin
-Kashi Good Friends
-astronauts
-peas
-dodos and giant pandas
-kittens
-trans-fats
-Primal Strips brand vegan ‘beef’ jerky
-Santa Claus
-your parents

Anyway I could keep going but I shouldn’t. OK I will.

-loner socks
-the oeuvre of James Patterson
-children named Hudson, Goethe, Amadeus, and Apple
-children named John
-people who have arguments loudly on their bluetooth headset
-refried beans
-David Caruso
-carbs
-the lost city of Atlantis
-philosophy

See? This is why they won’t let me answer kids’ emails. Or go near kids in general.

And in other news, “Dear Architects” has given me another opportunity, this time away from architecture and toward something else in which I have no background and yet still gets my panties in a tweest: Design. I’ll be a contributor for a blog by a company called Emeco, which produces high-end chairs. The kind you see in museums. All very fancy. I’ll post links when it’s up.

One of the steps I took to becoming a “real adult” a few years ago was getting renter’s insurance. I’m not sure why because I’m sitting here looking at my crap and it’s exactly what it is, crap. Total crap. I have crap from IKEA, crap from the Big K, crap from Target which is only slightly less crappy than the crap from Big K because Isaac Mizrahi and Michael Graves put their names on this particular crap so it’s like sanctioned, designer-approved crap, and I even have crap given to me from other people because they were getting rid of crap, and I needed crap. Like oh that is a cool poster! You like it? I think it’s crap. Take it. Oh sweet, dude. More crap for me. You might think, but wait you are a published author, shouldn’t you be living it up? I remember at some reading a girl asked me if I was “living the dream” and all I could think of was this crap apartment full of crap, but now that it’s insured, it’s somehow more valuable. Anyway the only thing of value I have here is my computer. And my love. Allstate doesn’t cover love. I asked them. They said, no we don’t do that, but if your neighbor’s pipe breaks and real crap leaks into your apartment, we’ll cover that.

Anyway, my insurance agent–a man I’ve never met because I signed up over the interwebs–retired and passed my account to a new one. Her name is Anna. Today I received a birthday greeting card from Anna (it’s not my birthday until later) that tells “interesting facts” about what happened the year you were born.

*$2 bill re-introduced as U.S. currency
My aunt and uncle always give me a $2 bill for our New Year’s dinner. They say it’s good luck. But I literally have like a dozen of these from all the New Year’s dinners we’ve done together and I can’t get myself to use it because, hey, it’s a $2 bill and it’s lucky. I don’t see how it’s lucky if it just sits there. It’s money that can’t be used as money, so it’s original purpose has been lost. So then it’ s just a piece of paper. So what I’m saying is that next year they should just write “Two dollars for you! Lucky you!” on a piece of paper and give it to me because it’ll be just as useful.

*Tom Brokaw became news anchor of the Today Show
Tom Brokaw kicks it. In a cage match between Brokaw and Jennings, Brokaw would gravitas the daylights out of Jennings. But in a contest to see who could abuse the future-in-the-past tense the hardest, Jennings would come out the victor. I really, really, really, really despise future-in-the-past tense. Lately it’s been the hot tense and it has to be stopped. It makes any sentence sound extra douchey: “But Alexei had no way of knowing that he would become the leading expert on ballistic missile physics.” See how many extra WORDS are in that sentence???? Plus it’s like you’re injecting 20/20 hindsight onto your characters. It’s so lame. Young George Washington lead the fledgling milita to victory. He would become the first president of the United States. DOUBLE GROAN.

*Bruce Jenner won the gold medal in the decathlon at the Summer Olympics
Awesome. I like Bruce Jenner, especially when he got all angry and turned green and kicked everyone’s ass. I remember when Bruce Jenner was on Silver Spoons. It was one of those “very special episodes” I think about epilepsy or something.

*Supreme Court ruled death penalty not inherently cruel or unusual.
That’s exactly the kind of fact I want to remember from the year I was born. Yes, the Supreme Court says, the death penalty is not that bad, I mean really. It’s kind of OK.

There’s also a list of “Movies and Music” and an interesting tidbit called “Americans Living Then and Now” which is all typed up in swirly, cursive font to make it look, you know, fancy and festive. Bread cost $0.45 then and $1.49 now. I am pretty sure that bread does NOT cost $1.49 now. My bread costs at least $3, and it’s not like I’m buying some fancy stuff not made from wheat. Anyway the list is confusing and it sounds more like “Americans living Then and Then”. It also sounds like my parents saying “when I was your age, bread cost a nickel!” And now I can say, well actually it cost like, two quarters.

I have been housesitting on the Upper East Side for the past week.

This is what I’ve figured out here in the 10021.

1. TV
I don’t have cable. I don’t even have a TV. But Aura does. And guess what? HOLY CRAP IT’S GLORIOUS. Seriously? Do you guys know about this TV thing? I think it’s really going to catch on. You may want to buy some stocks in TV because I think it’s gonna be big. Real big. Particularly the show HUMAN GIANT IS THE BEST THING EVER. Lets go! This is Rockafeller Center! Let’s go! Bing bong! Paul Scheer’s a Total Douchebag Pizzeria. This show makes me so happy. It really does.

2. Nespresso
I don’t have a Nespresso machine. But Aura does. And guess what? HOLY CRAP IT’S SCRUMPTULESCENT. This is how it works. You pop in this little pod into this machine. You push a button. And then espresso comes out. No wait, NESPRESSO comes out. It is like printing your own money. Yes! Do you want $100? Yes? OK, let me just pour you one. But wait, then the machine cleans itself! It’s self-cleaning! What? WHAT? If Nespresso can make an apartment version, I am into it. I will even pay $5.28 for it.

3. Honey Roasted Peanut Butter
Aura has a tub of honey roasted peanut butter. Have you had this? This is how it works. Magical elves take honey roasted peanuts. Then they grind it. Then it goes in my belly. Then all of the sudden, I want more. So magical.

4. Toys R Us
Has no power. The power is out. The lights are not on. They are off. There is no power. There is a ferris wheel in there. There are kids on the ferris wheel probably freaking out. I bet people are looting. If you like to loot and see kids cry, go to Toys R Us.