Somewhere in the depths of my long, yet unimpressive resume, there should be an entry that reads Popcorn Empress, United Artists Theaters.

Yes, I worked a movie theater concession stand. Job recruiters take note, I’m not only an experienced writer, editor and DJ, I am highly skilled at layering butter throughout the large tub of popcorn I upsold you. I can also scrape popcorn out of dried puddles of regular soda, but you can’t pay me enough to ever do that again.

It was sophomore year of college and I couldn’t get hired anywhere on campus after leaving the exciting world of soliciting donations from people who were still paying back student loans. Everyone was on my case about working, so I took the first job that came my way. Going back to my parents’ house every weekend to work at a movie theater couldn’t be that bad, right? At least I would get to see movies for free.

The goal was to work as a projectionist, but that takes time and I quit when I could not longer get the smell of popcorn out of my hair.  I worked at the UA through winter break and most of the spring semester. During my time at the theater, I had the privilege of slinging popcorn for such openings as Beavis and Butt-head Do America, Space Jam and the re-release of the only Star Wars trilogy that matters. I also worked through the Oscar season runs of The English Patient and Shine, but the only people who saw those were the handful of PBS-watching older women in the neighborhood.

Regardless, that’s a lot of popcorn and a lot of Milk Duds.

Did you know that there are many people who will request that you pour the Milk Duds into their popcorn and shake it up a little? You learn a lot of things working at a movie theater. Like, there are people who will come to theater just to buy the popcorn. They don’t even watch the movies.

I also learned that people in the Northridge/Granada Hills area are a bunch of snobs who like to look at movie theater employees with scorn. “What are you doing working here?” was a question I heard on multiple occasions from people with terrible taste in cinema who knew me before college. Getting paid to watch Star Wars, that’s what I’m doing.  My smart ass retorts stopped one step shy of “Do you want a loogie with your butter flavoring?”

I used to love working Mondays and Tuesdays at the theater because no one was ever there to mock us or leave their disgusting mess behind in the theater. Those were the days that were so slow that we could watch a good chunk of the movies that were screening.  To this day, I prefer going to the movies on weeknights.

Things have changed since I worked in a movie theater. For one thing, butter is usually self-serve now, so layering is something of a lost art. For another, people do go to movies on Tuesday nights. Or, at least, they go see The Avengers on Tuesday nights.

We went to an Arclight theater where there was a line for tickets, all for that one movie, and a good crowd at the bar. I asked the guy who made my vodka tonic if they had been busier since the movie opened. He shook his head and said, “You don’t even know.” They were even busy on Monday, he said, adding that the movie was worth the crowds. He already saw it three times.

Our theater was over half-full, a bit astonishing given that we went to a 9:05 show on a weeknight in a venue where The Avengers was showing on (at least) four screens. I ran out to grab a drink and ask the girl if it had been busy all day. She sighed and answered in the affirmative. “And it’s my first day,” she added.

She seemed frazzled. I understood. I said something that I can’t remember and she asked how I knew that. “I worked at a movie theater in college,” I answered.

“I’m in college right now,” she said.

Maybe some things change, but others don’t, and the Popcorn Empress who has to deal with all your bizarre requests, soda disasters and haughty glares is just working her way towards something else.

You all saw The Avengers over the weekend. I know you did because I read your tweets and your status updates and your Instagram posts, even when it seems like I’m not. Omniscience is cool.

Oh, yeah, and there are numbers proving that you all saw The Avengers over the weekend too.

I didn’t see The Avengers, not yet at least. It’s not because I don’t want to see the big movie or be part of some pop culture phenomenon. I left The Avengers art show at Gallery 1988 totally psyched to see the movie.

Someone asked me on Twitter if I’m avoiding the crowds. The answer is yes, definitely. It takes a lot of yoga breathing to get me through the crowds that are frequently a part of my job, so I avoid them on my free days. That said, instead of going to see The Avengers at my local stadium seating multiplex last weekend, I saw My Neighbor Totoro in a tiny film geek haunt where the seats are petite and the ice cream sandwiches are massive.

This month, Cinefamily is hosting a Studio Ghibli retrospective. They’re playing 10 films in all, from Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind to Ponyo. The event began last weekend with multiple showings of My Neighbor Totoro, which Carlos and I caught on Sunday night.

The theater was about half-full, which is impressive considering that most of Los Angeles was going to see The Avengers last weekend and this wasn’t the theater’s only Totoro screening. There were some problems with the projector, but it was still nice to finally see this movie on the big screen.

Whenever I watch a Studio Ghibli film, I’m always taken by the sweetness within them. My Neighbor Totoro is no different. There’s a real, genuine sense of love that the characters have for each other and for the environment in which they live, but the film never feels sappy. Miyazaki also has this special gift for capturing the curiosity and fearlessness in children and rewards them for traits that so often seem to disappear once adulthood hits.

I’m looking forward to checking out a few of the other films in the series this month, but haven’t decided which screenings I’ll be able to attend yet. Considering that the only one I previously saw in a theater was Spirited Away, there are a lot of options.

Ben Jones makes the sun shine. (Instagram: Liz O.)

There’s a Mercedes in the middle of the “Transmission: L.A.” exhibition at Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. I didn’t take a photo, but it’s there, and if you have stopped by the event, then you likely saw it too.

Consider the car product placement. “Transmission: L.A.” is part of Mercedes-Benz’s Avant/Garde Diaries project, essentially, a series of cool events and artist spotlights funded by a car company.

In my younger days, I would have scoffed at this with typical indie snob superiority. It took a while for me to understand one of the greatest truths of the world.  No good idea will get off the ground without money. If corporations want to put up the money for people doing awesome, creative things, then it’s good for artists and it’s good for us.

Egyptian Lover live in front of the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA (Photo: Liz O.)

“Transmission: L.A.” is a great idea. Mike D., of the Beastie Boys, curated the show, which merges music and art. There are excellent musical guests involved. On the night I went with Carlos, we caught Egyptian Lover and Peanut Butter Wolf. The following evening, Thom Yorke showed up behind the decks. Next week, James Murphy and Diplo are playing. The exhibition is free, but you do have to pre-register for some of the music performances.

The exhibition itself is a lot of fun. It reminded me of “Ecstasy” (probably the coolest museum show I’ve ever seen), in that it’s multi-discinplinary and clearly rooted in the youth culture that took shape in the late 20th century.

Instagram: Liz O.

I played an all-CD set last night, which I rarely do anymore. Many of the tracks were pulled from the super cute Little Twin Stars booklet in the above photo. I’ve loved Little Twin Stars ever since I was a child, but it can be hard to come across LTS items. I stock up when I can.

Set list after the jump.

Set 1:

New Order– Ceremony

Bloc Party– Banquet

The Cure– Fire in Cairo

Morrissey– Last of the Famous International Playboys

Depeche Mode– See You

Pulp– Death Goes to the Disco

Soft Cell– Bedsitter

Ladytron– Destroy Everything You Touch

The Faint– The Conductor (Thin White Duke mix)

The Rapture– House of Jealous Lovers

The Knife– Heartbeats (Rex the Dog mix)

OMD– Enola Gay

Pulp– Mis-Shapes

The Smiths– Still Ill

Joy Division– Transmission

Interpol– Slow Hands

The Strokes– Reptilia

Le Tigre– Deceptacon

Franz Ferdinand — Take Me Out (Daft Punk mix)

White Stripes– Seven Nation Army

Set 2:

New Order– Blue Monday

Ladytron– Weekend (rq)

Gorillaz– Feels Good, Inc.

Basement Jaxx– Where’s Your Head At?

Pulp– Common People

Daft Punk– Da Funk

Golden Boy w/Miss Kittin– Rippin’ Kittin

Lush w/Jarvis Cocker– Ciao!

Instagram by Liz O.

In between the typical day-to-day drudgery that comes with my attempts at being a functional, responsible adult, some pretty awesome things happened, all of which relate to a few some stories I wrote. Let’s recap.

Monday

“Top 5 Lessons for Adults From My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic“

Last weekend, I went to the sneak preview of the mega-wedding episode of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. I started thinking about the messages in the episode and how they apply to the grown-up world. Then I went home and watched some more episodes looking to make those connections. That inspired the list post that ran in my Monday column for L.A. Weekly. I was pleasantly surprised when MLP fan site Equestria Daily picked up on the story (thank you, again). Then I noticed the comments on my blog post. Frankly, I was floored by how wonderful and brutally honest the comments were. There were a lot of really touching messages about how the show has affected people who aren’t children. It was heartwarming to know that there are other people who picked up on some of the same things I did, as well as other messages, and are starting to think about life differently because of it. I don’t think I’ll ever see a comment thread like that again.

Thursday

 ”Royal/T to Close: Top 5 Memorable Events at the Culver City Maid Cafe”

Earlier this week, Royal/T announced that it was closing its Culver City maid cafe. That prompted me to go through the many assignments that Shannon Cottrell and I had there. I finally nailed down a top 5.

While compiling this post, I realized how much Shannon and I have covered together. I honestly have a hard time remembering most of it. If this were LiveJournal, my mood would read “accomplished.”

Friday

“Metalocalypse Director Jon Schnepp + A Titmouse, Inc. Studio Tour”

Jon Schnepp is involved in a lot of the shows I watch and I have wanted to interview him for a long time. That happened on Tuesday for a story that went live on Meltdown Comics’ blog today. Schnepp is currently trying to help get an animated anthology of the comic series Grimm Fairy Tales made and they have a Kickstarter to help. Please check it out when you have the chance.

“Pulp – The Fox Theater – 4/19/12″

I really didn’t think this would happen. I missed Pulp in 1994 for reasons that had to do with me being a high school student in an area where all of my job prospects were leveled by an earthquake. I missed them in 1996 and I can’t really remember why that happened. I thought they would play in 1998, but they didn’t. Then I hoped they would come to L.A. with We Love Life, but, alas, no. Then they broke up and got back together, but were only playing Europe. They finally announced U.S. dates at, of course, Coachella, which I will no longer attend on account of too many sunburns and illnesses resulting from the festival.

I was going to go to San Francisco. It sold out in 10 minutes max. I nearly cried as I clicked on every available seat that was somehow no longer available for me. I tried getting tickets for New York. That didn’t happen. And Pomona, actually, almost didn’t happen as well. I scored my ticket at the 11th hour, got a ride from some friends, saw one of the best shows I’ve ever seen and started writing the review while sitting in the backseat of my pal’s car as we headed back to L.A. Finished the review sometime before 9 a.m. I’m still shaking with exhaustion, but it’s worth it. I finally saw Pulp.

Sometime after the review went live, I was thinking about the show and had an epiphany. As may or may not know, my friend Jeaux Janovsky and I are working on a comic that we’re hoping to release in a few months. I should have finished chapter 2 weeks ago, but I hated it. The things I really wanted in the chapter weren’t flowing together as they should. It looked disjointed and stupid. I put it aside because I couldn’t handle looking at it anymore. Then this kernel of an observation from the Pulp show turned into the thing that might save what was potentially a stinking pile of crap. I now know how to make something that seemed like a bunch of anecdotes taped together look like a cohesive story. If I can get this next chapter done next week, it will be because of Jarvis Cocker and last night’s Pulp show.

The Typo Terrorist hits Melrose. (Photo: Liz O.)

All I know about The Typo Terrorist is what’s on Tumblr and Facebook and Twitter.

Regardless, I saw this while walking down Melrose Ave. yesterday. Can’t remember the cross street, but it was right around Urban Outfitters.

As a random aside, why is there always a crowd at Urban Outfitters when there are so many cool, non-chain stores on the same street? I still don’t get that.

The Secret Society of the Sonic Six on vinyl, under club lights and with an Instagram filter. (Photo: Liz O.)

Last night, I was invited to play alongside my friend’s band, Los Angeles, and others at Los Globos. (Thanks, Michael!) It was great fun. Los Angeles is one group you really need to see live, but I’ll be telling you a lot more about them later.

The cool thing about playing in between the bands is that there’s no expectation to keep the dance floor packed. That said, it’s a chance to try out new tracks and throw in some old favorites that aren’t really dance-y. I played both last night.

Not long ago, I went to the release party for The Secret Society of the Sonic Six’s new record, Pickup. While I was there, a copy of the album came into my possession. I love this band, and used to play their music in my sets at The Parlour way back in the day, so I was really excited to play their new work. Last night, I got to drop the title track at Los Globos. I loved the way it sounded. (Really nice job on the pressing here, it’s loud and full and filled with win.) I hope to play it again soon. Check out the set list below the jump.

Pickup without the weird lights and filters. (Photo: Liz O.)

Set 1:

Xmal Deutschland– Mondolicht

This Mortal Coil– 16 Days/Gathering Dust

Siouxsie and the Banshees– Arabian Knights

Dopplereffekt– Scientist

Xeno & Oaklander– Sentinelle

Ladytron– Paco!

Fad Gadget– Collapsing New People

Grimes– Oblivion

Set 2:

The Glove– Orgy

Marc and the Mambas– Untitled

Ultravox– Reap the Wild Wind

Cold Cave– Icons of Summer

The Secret Society of The Sonic Six– Pickup

Crystal Castles– Not in Love (album version)

Thank you to everyone involved in last night’s gig and to all of you who were there. My next gig is at Underground on Friday.

Necklaces by Zambi Candy from Super*Market (Photo: Liz O.)

Last Saturday, BubblePunch relaunched the Super*Market event at Meltdown Comics, the Hollywood comic book store for whom I interview awesome writers and artists. BubblePunch is an event promotion team consisting of blogger Yume Ninja and accessories designer Michelle Nguyen, aka Chubby Bunny. (For more on Chubby Bunny, check out the studio tour Shannon and I did for L.A. Weekly last year.)

I stopped by the event for a little while after checking out a My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic screening at Royal/T.

The Super*Market vendors set up shop in the store’s parking lot as well as inside Nerdist Theater/gallery, surrounded by work from the venue’s current show, “Muchos Kstew.” (More about that in “Lots of Images of Kristen Stewart”)

Misha and Misha. Photo: Liz O.

I ran into Misha right after I arrived. Misha is a painter and tattoo artist in Los Angeles and her work is gorgeous. Check out the stories on her that Shannon and I did for L.A. Weekly back in 2010.

“Mario vs. Star Wars: Misha’s Pop Culture Mash-Up Paintings”

“Inside Misha’s Studio: Where Hello Kitty Meets ‘Ghost in the Shell’”

By the way, that’s Misha in the print she’s holding as well. It’s by Messy Pink, who also had a booth at Super*Market.

Some things I’m planning on adding to the site:

1) Interviews with bands I like.

2) More photo-based posts from around Los Angeles.

3) More geeking out over TV shows and movies that came out before I was born, maybe before my parents were born. Also, more British TV shows.

With this in mind, I have but one question for you. Are you interested in music, concert, TV, comic book recommendations? I’m not talking about reviews, just recommendations based on whatever is coming out during a specific week. Answer in the comment thread.

Fortunately, I had the chance to get to know my grandmother better than most kids do. We lived in the same city and my dad always remained tight with his parents, so we saw them a lot. But, I always knew my grandmother as Grammy, a name bestowed upon her by one of my cousins. I’m the fourth of her seven grandchildren, so her identity as Grammy was already established by the time I popped into this world.

Grammy may have been born and raised in Los Angeles, but she was a straight-up, old school Armenian grandma. It didn’t matter how little notice we gave her, if we stopped by her house, there was a full spread of food on the table. If I didn’t have seconds, or thirds, she would say, “Lizzie-jan, you hardly ate. Is something wrong?” She added the suffix -jan a lot. It’s something of a term of endearment in Armenian.

She didn’t speak in Armenian often. She threw in words here and there, mostly if she didn’t want anyone around us to know what she was saying. One time, she took me shopping and asked if I needed new “vardigs.” I had to remind her that inside a Macy’s in Pasadena, everyone knew she was asking me about underwear.

But, there was another side to Grammy, one I’ll only know in bits in pieces.

When I was in high school, my grandma caught wind of the fact that I bought most of my clothes at thrift stores. Everyone in my family thought this was odd. Why on earth would you buy someone’s castoffs when you could afford to shop at Bullock’s? I was constantly explaining that I didn’t want to look like everyone else and, besides, the dresses from the ’50s and ’60s didn’t fall apart in six months.  After that, Grammy decided that she would enable my quest to look like an extra in a Fellini film. Every time she came across an old outfit of hers, she would let me know. She even gave me her black, Don Loper cocktail suit.

Grammy owned a Don Loper suit. I couldn’t help but think that Lucy Ricardo would be jealous. And now that amazing vintage suit was part of my club wardrobe.

With time, I had a few more glimpses into my grandmother’s world. I would go to concerts in venues that were former movie palaces. She had been to them all. I went to nightclubs that are now considered historic. She knew all of those places too.

The revelation that my grandparents were cool was a bombshell. My grandmother never failed to call me after one of Fox 11′s “Look What Your Weirdo Kids Are Doing Now” reports. I still remember the time she asked me if I knew about this new dance called “freaking.”

“You don’t do that, do you?”

I cracked a joke that she pretended to ignore. After the awkward pause, I laughed and added, “Grammy, you know, they blow things out of proportion. And I work at goth clubs, we don’t like physical contact on the dance floor.”

But my grandmother, for all her concern and occasional shock over what us kids were doing, was young once too. And when she was young, she and my grandfather partied at places that get mentioned in Old Hollywood stories. That, to me, is endlessly fascinating.

There’s always the tendency to only see what’s in front of you. Grandparents, like parents, are always the adults. When we’re children, they tell us to be quiet and to stop running around the house before someone gets hurt. And, no matter how old we are, we’re always the kids, the ones who dress and talk in ways they never quite understand. They’re baffled by us, we’re baffled by them. We run in circles trying to explain ourselves to each other. Too often, we fail. I’m just glad that I had the chance to find out that Grammy was more than just an old school Armenian grandma while she was alive.