Lost in the Harbor

Out of boredom I guess, this is "Getting to Know Me 101" (sort of)

(Following the rules, I opened my music browser, put it on shuffle, and answered the questions.)

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Rag & Bone (White Stripes)

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Been Smoking Too Long (Nick Drake)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Celia's Dream (Slowdive)

HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Second Chance at First Place (Grade)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
The Comeback (Stars)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
They Want Us to Make a Symphony Out of the Sound of Women Swallowing Their Own Tongues (Le Tigre)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
My Slumbering Heart (Rilo Kiley)

WHAT DO YOU OFTEN THINK ABOUT?
New Man (French Kicks)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Just Be Simple (Songs: Ohia)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Spotlights in the House of the Late Scapegoat (Modest Mouse)

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
The Things We Did and Didn't Do (Magnetic Fields)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
What We Fall for When We're Already Down (the Good Life)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
I Guess I Planted (Billy Bragg & Wilco)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Sky Starts Falling (Doves)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Blackout (British Sea Power)

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Paper Crowns (Burning Airlines)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Topsy Turvy (the Scotland Yard Gospel Choir)

WHAT WILL YOU NAME THIS?
Lost in the Harbor (Tom Waits)

Wanda Sykes

Sarah and I went to Chicago's anti-Prop 8 march today. And hopefully tomorrow when I'm less exhausted I will blog about it. Meanwhile, I'd just like to share this news snippet with you (thanks to Sarah for the heads-up).

Wanda Sykes says she's 'proud to be gay'

LAS VEGAS (AP) — Comedian Wanda Sykes says the passage of a same-sex marriage ban in California has led to her be more outspoken about being gay.

"You know, I don't really talk about my sexual orientation. I didn't feel like I had to. I was just living my life, not necessarily in the closet, but I was living my life," Sykes told a crowd at a gay rights rally in Las Vegas on Saturday.

"Everybody that knows me personally they know I'm gay. But that's the way people should be able to live their lives," she said.

Sykes, who is known for her feisty and blunt style, said the passage of California's Proposition 8 made her feel like she was "attacked."

"Now, I gotta get in their face," she said. "I'm proud to be a woman. I'm proud to be a black woman, and I'm proud to be gay."

I have liked Wanda Sykes's comedy for awhile now. I think she stole a lot of scenes in Evan Almighty, for example. I also like to watch her on Youtube, something I started doing after a summer of watching Last Comic Standing. She's just really funny. And I really admire her.







It takes a lot of courage to be yourself, especially in Hollywood where every move you make is scrutinized. So hooray, Wanda Sykes! You are AWESOME!

Broken Heartbeats Sound Like Breakbeats

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

-Sonnet 116, William Shakespear


I wanted to write something eloquent and impassioned to argue against Proposition 8. But what could I contribute to the arguments I have heard this week? I know I only cast one ballot in the last election and didn't really volunteer or anything but I was really proud to help elect Barack Obama as president. I know the two issues are not really related; I don't live in California (for starters). But my new-found pride of being American was tempered when I heard about California's decision.

Briefly, this is what I believe:
1. Allowing two people to stand before each other and profess their love and union affects those two people, not anyone else.

2. Banning marriage based on something as arbitrary as the physical sex of the participants undermines EVERYONE'S marriage.

3. Allowing or banning gay marriage is not a religious issue. It's about civil rights. (And I will stand up for your civil rights when they are threatened too.)


Thus I am going to protest Prop. 8 on Saturday in Chicago. I hope that I will be joined by many, many people. And I hope that together we can make a difference.

I'd like to make a sign for the protest. Possibly like the one in the middle. Possibly the one on the right.

Feel the Rhythm in Your Bones

So I've been a bit MIA recently. Sorry? I've been occupied elsewhere. I saw Conor Oberst on Halloween (review to come, promise) and spent election night at Grant Park. Also having company this weekend which required some cleaning. Additionally, some things on the internet that have intrigued me recently (and will help distract you when I cannot):

1. Cute Boys Make Me Nervous


(Exhibit A)

I don't remember how I found this blog. Maybe on Bust's website. Basically this anonymous lady travels around and takes pictures of cute guys under the guise of running a fashion blog. This gives her an excuse to talk to hipsters who might otherwise intimidate her. I respect and admire that initiative.

2. I Can Has Cheez Burger



Basically the best LOLcat blog ever. So much awesomeness. Sometimes I read it in the living room and Sarah-Sarah gets le mad at me. But it's worth it. If you want to submit your own, there's also an online translator.

3. Yes We Carve



Sarah-Sarah and I carved pumpkins for Halloween. Mine is on the left. I think it turned out well given the knives we had at our disposal. And my lack of art skills.

4. the Election



I know it's all over (hooray America!) but the video is still sort of funny. Especially if you're a Gossip Girl fan. Which I am. It's the new Degrassi.

5. Devendra Banhart





I think his music* speaks for itself.

*by "music" I also mean "facial hair"

LoveLetterTypewriter

I have a cold and new earrings. I'm only excited about one of those things.

In addition to working a new internship, I also signed on with a company that does retail marketing for major label artists. On the plus side, I'll be paid to hang up posters (until this point, postering was its own reward). On the minus side, my first artist to promote is Katy Perry. I now have 20 of her CDs and a billion posters in my apartment. Tomorrow (today, when I wake up) I have the honor of traipsing around Chicago looking for stores willing to host displays. How did this become my life?

I feel like little J from Gossip Girl circa mid-summer when she was just a lowly little intern. "Anything to make it," that's my new motto. "No job too small."

Speaking of which, I heart Gossip Girl. Have I mentioned that? Not only because they are doing a ridiculously awesome job with the Vitamin Water product placement (sadly scaled way back this week) but also because of the drama. Oh my, so much drama. It's the new Degrassi.

Oh, and they've added a new character: Aaron Rose.



Tres hipster fabulous, no? Sometimes he wears huge Elvis Costello glasses and it's even more awesome. Mondays are the best.

In real life, which nobody cares about, his name is John Patrick Amedori. Finding out that he's the kid from "Stick It" made me feel really dirty. Like maybe I should be on profiled on Hipster or Pedophile. I'm obviously not a hipster though, so...

Speaking of Gossip Girl, I'm on Twitter and we should be friends. You should join Twitter. You can be friends with me AND(/or) with Rufus_Humphrey. Win-win-win.

And on that note, gentle reader, I will bid adieu.

p.s. I played two awesome new artists on my show this past week. Saint Milkweed and Daniel Martin Moore. Both are rather mellow.

p.p.s. Speaking of Myspace, why do some people take it as a challenge to be as tacky as possible? And not in a kitchy, ironic way. I'm promoting some artists on Myspace for my internship and it's killing me. Here are just a few examples of the nightmares that make my eyes bleed and my brain melt.

World Inside the World

So. Big Changes in the past month. None of them documented yet and at this rate I'm bound to forget stuff. Feel free to remind me.

1. I have joined the ranks of the unemployed.

2a. I'm sort of not exactly unemployed. I'm just unpaid. Shortly after being laid off I found a new internship which will (hopefully) turn into a real job in the next couple of months.

I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING! "But Ashley," you say, "haven't we heard that line before?" Yes. Yes, you have. But I really, REALLY mean it this time. Just like every other time. But for real.

Here's the thing. I can't NOT try. There are some horrible cliches I could employ but I think Okkervil River's "A Stone" sums it up best somehow. And in the meantime, I'm getting some valuable hands-on experience doing radio and internet marketing so win-win-win.

2b. There's a kid at "work" (seriously, he's like, 12 or something) who's really into the Chicago punk scene (Alkaline Trio, Lawrence Arms, etc). It's kind of neat being able to discuss that genre with someone again. It also makes me feel old and ridiculous. Like Liz Lemon going to the night club with the coffee guy on 30 Rock but without any romantic overtones whatsoever. So maybe not really like that at all. Maybe like someone's parent trying to be "cool" and "hip" in front of the child's friends. Except I can't think of a pop culture reference for that.

3. Along those lines (i.e. music) I am still doing my quasi-new radio show. It's on WLUW in Chicago. Monday mornings from 2-4am CST.

4. Guitar lessons are almost over. Next Thursday is our big recital. It involves getting up on stage at the Old Town School of Folk Music with the whole class and playing REM's "The One I Love." The ending of the song is awesome because it's an exaggerated up-strum on the E minor chord. Basically, it's a lot of fun to play, very rock star. I sneer a little when I do it and then promptly laugh myself silly. Sadly I'm going to have to wait until my financial situation is more secure to continue on but it'll work out.

5. New blog layout! Briefly, I spend 6-8 hours in a room with people working on web development at my new internship and I've been slightly inspired to try some stuff out. So...hopefully you like it. If the middle bar isn't centered you may need to re-size your browser (make it narrower!). I'm still learning. But I think it's neat looking...

6. Speaking of being unemployed (like four points ago, whatever) I applied for a job at our local record store. And was rejected. I'm not bitter. Really. I would totally still shop there if I had any disposable income right now. Which I don't (see point #1 above).

The deal is that they have a music quiz for potential employees. And I'm pretty sure I failed it. Here's the thing, I can wax poetic for hours about post-emo indie rock and the evolution of punk (with an emphasis on the Dischord scene and early Epitaph bands). I can discuss current buzz bands, alt-country, riot girl, twee, dancey-dancey indie rock and outlaw music. I even have a faint understanding of modern pop. But I have limited interest in so-called "classic rock" bands. And that seemed to be the emphasis of the quiz.

I understand that knowing the basics is important. But I think in an independent store you'd have more opportunities to discuss, say, Cocorosie or Park Ave than the Beatles. I mean, suggestinga patron check out The Who is all well and good but if I owned a record store I'd recommend Mousetrap* instead.

C'est la guerre.


*Disclaimer, Mousetrap was originally recommended to me by an employee at the Antiquarium. I'm sure I've mentioned it to you before. It's the best store ever, seriously. The Antiquarium is in Omaha and it is an art gallery/used bookstore/record store. The video doesn't show the record store in the basement but it does show the books. Oh man, the books. Simply put, the Antiquarium is my idea of heaven.

I hope your apple pie is freakin' worth it!

Supernatural is back.
This makes me very happy.

The Summer Ends

So, there's this boy.

Well, no. That's a misleading way to put it, really.

There's a guy I see on my morning commute. A new guy. And I just want to cut him off on my bike and ask if he's aware of the legal ramifications of accidental drug trafficking because I'd guess they're still pretty severe. I'd like to give him the business card of a local lawyer (which would probably take some research and I don't actually care that much) and wish him a nice day.

But I don't want him to think I'm odd.

I'm like, 82% sure he's a bike messenger. At least, he sort of looks like a bike messenger.



More or less. My Google Ninja skills sort of failed me so this was the best mental image I could come up with. Actually he sort of looks like A-ron but less social and with a chest length beard. Anyway. So obviously it's not like that. Also a bright yellow bike and yellow sunglasses. Standard bike messenger attire, no?

I don't believe there are any bike messenger offices near our place and this guy always goes into a building across from the grocery store. Thus I assume he works out of that office building. And since it's clearly not an actual bike messenger dispatch place and equally obvious that most businesses in the neighborhood are actually drug fronts (except possibly the library) he must clearly be delivering illicit packages. Clearly. And that sort of makes me feel bad for him. And then I remember where I'm going (work, at least for the next few days) and suddenly it looks like he got the better end of the stick.

And as I was recounting this tale of woe to an anonymous coworker, it struck me that I think I remember reading about some bike messengers who did deliver drugs. So case closed.

Tomorrow, a New Point of View

Unlike most of my peers, I never took photography in high school. I think I was too busy treking off campus for Spanish class. Not a high priority in any event. I took an intro art class instead that involved fewer paint smudges than I had secretly hoped for. Truth be told, I'm not great at creating art. A class about photo composition and film development techniques would not have helped much. However, in an attempt to fill college credits with something fun (and cut down on book expenses since my roommate had already taken it), I ended up in a history of photography class my last year at the UW.

In theory there are many topics on which I could wax poetic after four years of higher learning. Mexican agrarian reform, cellular mitosis, comma splicing, the moral ramifications of surrogacy, etc., etc. Seriously, I would love to see exactly how much information I've committed to memory only to forget shortly afterward. Preferably the data could be bound in encyclopedic form. I digress. So the point is I don't remember everything I learned in History of Photography but on occasion I do feel I am able to appreciate pictures on a deeper level.



However, usually I just get stuck in awe.

I've been here.
I can't remember which airport it is.
I think it's O'Hare. I really want it to be O'Hare. The other option is LAX and I was through that airport enough as a kid for it to be plausible. Additionally, I've been through various hallways and corridors in O'Hare and haven't seen these lights recently. But. I remember this as O'Hare. There also used to be one of those huge coin tornadoes at O'Hare. Seriously, these were the sorts of things that remain the highlights of past vacations regardless of destination.

Anyway, that's a photograph by Thomas Conrad. Everything else aside, he takes some really awesome pictures. They remind me of Azure Ray songs, cigarettes, and sea salt.

They Can't All Be Ballads, Julian

Does anyone remember when the song 7 by Prince was big? I think I was in elementary school but that may not be accurate. At the time my best friend was obsessed with the song. She used to sing it all the time. I miss that. They're playing it at Dollop right now where I am, attempting to apply for jobs and being foiled by cover letter composition issues. Life was a lot more simple when Prince controlled the radio waves and my friend's music preferences.

I have said it before and it's sure to be my motto for the foreseeable future but applying for jobs is hell. In fact, if there is a hell I bet that all you do there is browse job postings, write resumes and cover letters, go to interviews and repeat the whole process (forEVER).

So, alright, Dollop doesn't actually qualify as hell because at least there's coffee and internet to balance out my arduous task. Additionally and oddly, the back bathroom has acquired a washer and dryer. Logically I'd assume they're for the tenants who live upstairs (as apparently the barristas are wont to do) but I really want an alternative explanation. And free laundry.

Meanwhile, back on the infamous velvet sofa my shoes are damp because it's been Mary Poppins raining all day. It's the sort of gloomy weather that precedes the arrival of something awesome and easily blows away mean nannies. I can't explain the urge to watch random movie clips on youtube. Procrastination of some sort, I guess.



The best thing about Mary Poppins was her luggage. Forget laughing on the ceiling, jumping into chalk drawings or cleaning a room with a snap of your fingers (all awesome abilities, I'll grant). A bag you can fit an upright coat tree in? Heck yeah! I tend to over-pack for most situations so I was envious for a long time. Then I found an acceptable substitute at Savers in Madison. Ok, it's not actually bottomless like Mary's but it sure seems like it.

In any event, I've applied for four more jobs, reworked my monster resume and drunk two lattes in the past four hours. I think it's time to go home.

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Milk Thistle, Milk Thistle

After two guitar lessons I can awkwardly fumble my way through several songs including "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash. I feel ridiculously proud of my limited musical skill and painful fingertips. The instructor has promised that by the third week we should have callouses. I'm very, very hopeful.

This is basically the guitar I ended up renting from the school:

but mine is more banged up (that's what she said...?)

I don't know. I feel like this is the best thing I've done recently. I've been meaning to sign up and learn something for awhile but this is the first time I was actually organized to register before classes started (I even got an early registration discount). I had a short internal debate, banjo? guitar? banjo? HARMONICA! guitar?, but guitar won in the end. Maybe if I ever conquer this I can try another instrument.

My teacher is really awesome too. She's hilarious and makes us sing. Most of the songs we've learned so far are folk/alt-country so it's generally in my limited range and enjoyable. I try not to deafen others but singing makes the experience even more fun. I know it sounds cheesy but for that hour or so I feel free. Incredibly awkward, self-conscious and self-critical but lighter too.

After class everyone reconvenes in the music hall and all the guitar classes play a few songs together. I haven't been able to participate much yet since I only know five chords but it's still neat. And I get to practice my right hand technique (a fancy way to say muting all the strings and strumming along).

I've also been enjoying watching movie previews online. Of all the movies coming out soon (and there's a lot of garbage) I want to see this most.



It's called Nights and Weekends. It reminds me a lot of Quiet City which I loved.

Apparently the kids are calling this "Mumblecore" cinema. Per le infamous Wikipedia, Mumblecore "is primarily characterized by ultra-low budget production (often employing digital video cameras), focus on personal relationships between twenty-somethings, improvised scripts, and non-professional actors." It sounds kind of pretentious but Quiet City at least was really beautiful.



This is the sort of experience that I will never, ever have even were I to be set down in an identical situation. Which is regrettable.

Holy terribleness, Batman!

Guess what I have in my bedroom right now.

It's a bat!



This is not the sort of nighttime visitor I would want, given the option. I'm just saying.

Mostly because this is a massive fucking inconvenience.

Seriously.

So a few nights ago I got up for a drink of water and noticed something swooping around in the dark apartment. But it was late, my vision was blurry and so I hoped I was freaking myself out given no evidence of a bat in the morning light. This seemed logical at the time because immediately after thinking "there's a bat in our apartment" I thought "it's probably a vampire."

All was forgotten until it came flopping out of my closet around 10:00 pm.

In case you were wondering, bats are not cute.

Thank goodness for roommates who can keep their head. Because, seriously, I never learned how to handle a bat invasion while growing up. So Sarah-Sarah called Animal Control who directed her to the city who promised to call the CDC for us. The CDC did not show up. So eventually we called back. Turns out the CDC is not coming out until tomorrow.

WHAT THE FUCK?
There is a BAT trapped in my room.
BATS are RESERVOIRS for DISEASE.

True story.

Couldn't they have at least called back to let us know we were on our own until morning (any time from 7am-9:30pm). Worse, both Sarah-Sarah and I have to work. And if the CDC shows up and we're not here, they will close our request ticket. Grr.

So now the bat is hypothetically trapped in my room. My cat is sequestered in the kitchen. And I am on the sofa for the night.

Except when I crept back into my room to get a few essentials there was no bat to be seen.

When I've Got the Music...

So I've started doing a radio show again. It's 2-4am Monday mornings. We'll see how long I can keep it up. So far two weeks and counting. It's really awesome to be on the air again. I have missed it. What isn't so awesome is the format clock the station uses. I was very, very spoiled at WSUM. Anyway. I'm archiving set lists here: Wombat, Indeed (I couldn't think of a new marsupial name for the show). Hopefully I'll also remember to bring CDRs in the coming weeks so I can archive it online for those of you who are not insomniacs.

the Geeks WERE Right.

Oh the Faint. You are possibly the only band that can make me dance with almost no inhibitions. It's doubtful that anyone will believe that but it's true. I do not understand your choice of openers nor Todd in general but I had so much fun.

I arrived at the Vic last night halfway through the first band's set to find the show was sold out. Thankfully a bit of foresight meant that my ticket was patiently awaiting me at Will Call. After purchasing Blank Wave Arcade on vinyl and a beer (because I didn't pay for my original copy and because I'm halfway to 50 respectively) I entered the venue proper. Perhaps I am too old for such shenanigans but with only a wee bit of maneuvering I was able to make my way to the front row.

The first band was intense. I imagine that during the selection process Dapose calmly put his hands on his hips and laid down the law (because even though he's in the Faint he's really very metal*). Thus Genghis Tron got the spot as the first opener. Like so many other bands, I've heard of, but not actually listened to, Genghis Tron. They are very loud. I've read about bands producing a wall of sound in books that lay out the history of punk rock but now I finally understand what that means. The air was actually vibrating. Thank goodness for earplugs and being old enough to be sensible enough to use them.

The second band was the worst band ever. Ok, not really. According to Wikipedia, Jaguar Love is "an American art punk band from Portland, comprised of former members of The Blood Brothers and Pretty Girls Make Graves." Some bands seem destined to play basement parties and cramped, smoky bars all their lives and other bands are obviously headed for bigger (though not necessarily better things). Sometimes the difference has more to do with presence than talent. Jaguar Love is the second sort of band, more suited to a small arena tour than opening at the Vic. To be fair, they are clearly very talented and had so much energy and enthusiasm that I felt really bad for not liking them more. It just wasn't my thing.

After the longest set break ever (seriously, the techs spent maybe ten minutes running wires and setting up two keyboards then the stage was deserted for at least 25 min.) the Faint came on. A visual aid is required



because that is how Todd was dressed. It.was.AWESOME. And then he rocked out the whole show in his mad scientist getup (fully buttoned lab coat, big rubber goggles, maniacal twinkle). And I danced because you can't NOT dance to the Faint. Seriously. They played an amazing set and buttered up the crowd by declaring us the best audience ever.

In short order the band worked their way through all their usual crowd pleasing numbers including Hospital and a surprisingly small amount of new tracks. I have a set list because I'm a dork and a few grainy camera phone shots of Joel and Todd (everyone else was way too far away to even bother attempting to capture). Despite the fact that they play dancey-dancey-indie-rock I'm always surprised by how well they actually..er...dance hampered by their instruments.

Even the new songs were awesome and well received.

Confession: I have not spent much time listening to Faciinatiion. The Faint self-released it a couple of weeks ago and it's in a stack of CDs somewhere that I've been meaning to get to when my current Itunes library stops sidetracking me. I'm being sabotaged, for real.

Anyway, my concern was that if not on Saddle Creek their sound may have changed. And I liked them as they were. I think I read somewhere that the choice to not use Saddle Creek was largely financial (digital rights or something, don't quote me) so it shouldn't have been indicative of quality. But then I read several modest and reserved reviews of the album and despite knowing better I began growing apprehensive. Silly me.

End digression. So the show was easily the best I've seen them do and I've seen them four or five times now. Stage banter was kept to a minimum to enable maximum performance time and ease song transitions. I cannot say enough good things about it.

The only bad thing was that security sucked because they were completely ineffective. They got in the way of other participants' dancing and didn't stop the underage drinkers near me. Furthermore, they didn't keep people from crowd surfing (and kicking others in the head) or from jumping on and off stage. What's worse, the one attempt to capture and evict a stage dancer resulted in a massive security man jumping into the audience and knocking over the waif of a girl next to me. What the fuck. He didn't even attempt to help her up (I did, though) despite her being completely sprawled out on the floor in the middle of a pit of dancing. Asshole.

Afterwards, completely sweaty and happy as a clam, I met up with Sarah-Sarah on the Clark bus and we journeyed to the Smartbar to see the Faint do a DJ set (Jacob with assistance from Todd, specifically). He was very good. Because unlike some celebrity DJs he wasn't just running an Itunes playlist. Which is a valid option and can be enjoyable but still). It seemed as though he had pre-created original tracks to mix as he went. So I drank whiskey (best drink special ever) and danced some more. And then an old man started dancing with me but fortunately Sarah-Sarah acted the part of knight errant. And we made it home around 4ish after hitting Taco Hell which is a story for another day. (Key words: hat, primary colors, arts, physics, raspberry iced tea, Son Ambulance).

It was a very nice evening.

*Dapose has a side project called Vverevvolf Grehv (I think it's pronounced Wherewolf Grave-? IDK). It's very kitten core. You'll see what I mean, but I imagine fluffy white cats the world round love these sorts of bands and sing along as though it were a Meow Mix commercial.

**Joel Petersen also has another band which I enjoy a lot. Broken Spindles played Chicago a few months ago and he gave me a button. I have a review of that show to post up later. He seems as focused but more relaxed in the Faint.

Queen of the Surface Streets

Stuff I am into recently for no conceivable reason:

1.

Vitamin Water. I know it's ridiculous. I totally get that. "Brought to you by the center for responsible hydration." Gag me. But it's so compelling! The bright colors, the variety, the snappy little blurbs (I'd love a job writing the snappy blurbs...where do I apply for that? Is that on Craigslist?) Maybe it's a conspiracy. Real water is probably the best choice but I feel dumb paying for it (Evian is just Naive backwards, afterall) so I've been tricked into buying this instead.

At least it's not caffeinated.

2.

"Jacked Up." As a phrase. There wasn't really a good illustration of "jacked up" that didn't involve monster trucks or British teeth. But this picture of Tilly and the Wall works because it is sort of jacked up. I love Tilly and the Wall and they are all super nice in real life! But their dead on stares here creep me out. And once I noticed the hand it was all I could stare at.

Note that I don't use "jacked up" aloud. That would be too ridiculous.

3. Finding chalk on the street. Ah summer!

Went to the Moon in a Soda Can

I forgot how much I love(d) the Exploding Dog comics. I used to show them to people who then wouldn't laugh. Whatever, I thought they were funny. Also A Softer World, which I cannot plug enough. Sorry. But anyway. Here's a preview of Exploding Dog:


if it were worth fixing, it wouldn't break


ambiguities are all we have


it was my birthday (this was posted 8/2/04...which was also MY birthday!)

These two comic strip series are like my test for people. It's like in the Little Prince, do you see the hat or the elephant? Because that is how I will discuss things with you from then on. Bonus points for getting the reference.

Such a dork.

What happened to your politics?

"No man, it's like, it's just...I got kind of...distracted."





Ok, so the robot thing. Right? I think I promised that. I hear the most ridiculous comments at work and I'm beginning to hate the elderly. However, I really really hate people who bitch about being transferred to India for tech support or whatever. Sometimes they're totally apologetic about it which makes it worse and not any more acceptable. Sometimes the rep joins in and I just want to hit them. What the fuck? And some customers who apparently have no filter between their brain an their mouth (or just have no soul) start complaining about foreigners who "steal" American jobs.

Excuse me? Did you really just say that? Really really?! I think like 97% of people who bitch about this sort of thing to the operator wouldn't take whatever job they supposedly lost out on even if they were paid to do it (which, you know, they would have been). I'm just saying, mr. bitchy customer, if you want to sit on the phone for nine hours a day at $12/hr for a company you purportedly hate then, y'know, AT&T is probably hiring somewhere. Have at it. And then you can put up with the assholes like you used to be (because seriously, I don't think that after listening to customers' insanity for even just a day customer service reps ever give anyone lip on the phone again).

But all of this pales in comparison to what I learned the other day. AT&T (and so probably a lot of other companies) employ ROBOTS to process their mail.

Huh?

No, really, I asked my boss and he confirmed it. So when you send a check to your phone company to keep your service from getting shut off, a ROBOT is judging your handwriting and laughing at you for misspelling forty dollars and eighty nine cents.

Furthermore, nobody ever complains about ROBOTS stealing their jobs. But clearly, CLEARLY this is a major problem! So instead of building a wall between the US and Mexico which everyone knows is pointless anyway, we should be building a wall to keep the ROBOTS out. Because I've seen enough movies to know that shit never ends well.

I am completely serious about this.

ROBOTS.

One for the Shareholders

So I don't know if you have ever found yourself in this position but I have unwittingly become witness to a tragic triangle of love. It would be awkward if it weren't so exciting.

Our cast:




(not their real pictures but close enough)

Here are the facts:

Sarah Jane-looks vaguely like Sarah Jessica Parker in real life. She shows up at the bus stop first having sold her Toyota Prius as part of a New Year's resolution. On stressful days she's running to make it as the bus pulls up. Either way she waits until she's seated and en route to do her makeup. This is how I know that she's not coming from her place. She majored in Comparative Lit at U of M (a lifetime ago-her words) and now works as a Realtor.

James-(doesn't really look like the dad from Gossip Girl) An aging hipster type. Coming from the same direction, he usually shows up a couple minutes after Sarah Jane, parking his Mini Cooper illegally to run into the Starbucks around the corner for his morning coffee (black with two packets of Splenda I suspect). He's the sort of person who's forever out of coffee filters which conveniently gives him an excuse to see Sarah Jane one last time before heading off to teach at Columbia College.


That's what I can tell just by looking at them. After extended observation I've also concluded:

-Sarah Jane sold James his condo. This is how they originally met. It's where they stay during the week (they rarely meet on the weekends, her decision, unless its at a laundromat in her neighborhood). She actually sabotaged the original closing for reasons she can't explain. Sarah Jane would never EVER refer to anything as fate. However, after three years she is ambivalent about the apartment.

-Even though James loves music (mostly old Dischord stuff and secretly the new Panic at the Disco album) they only listen to NPR together. Sarah Jane will never admit she hates This American Life. James listens to Click and Clack only out of habit.

-James has never had chicken pox. Sarah Jane has a scar on the back of her right calf just below the knee. She thinks no one has ever seen it but she is wrong. James often finds himself drawing it in constellations at work.

-Except for the Velvet Underground box set (for Sarah Jane) and a pair of reindeer socks (for James to wear to his uncle's funeral) they don't exchange gifts even after three years. He went to a wedding with her once for her college roommate. It was the only time they've ever fought.

-Sarah Jane secretly dreams of having kids. Usually fraternal twins. She blames this on being an only child. On the days when the longing is particularly bad she cancels on James and watches terrible movies like The Jane Austin Book Club. She hates these movies with an unrivaled passion. Watching them is her way of punishing herself.

-James watches four hours of the Weather Channel on the weekends. He doesn't dream of traveling anywhere. Two months after he graduated from college he woke up in Tulsa, OK with a guitar and two pairs of jeans in a back pack. He has no recollection of how he got there and left two hours later on a bus to Chicago. He now owns 2743 CDs and 432 records.

-James also loves to dance. Sarah Jane likes Wii Bowling.

-On the Wednesday nights James and Sarah Jane watch Fraggle Rock clips on Youtube and play Gin Rummy until 1 am. It's the best night of the week.


The plot thickens:


Bianca-James' serious girlfriend. Currently pursuing a masters degree at his alma matter (University of Texas at Austin). They met at some pretentious film screening at SXSW six years ago. She doesn't understand why James hasn't proposed yet and has no clue about Sarah Jane. Despite her hopes and dreams they'll never get married because he's never going to grow up.

True story, she was in town last weekend, I saw them together at Ikea. Awkward! This is how I know that she exists and that I'm not making this stuff up even if nobody else believes me. I was right about the Ace of Cakes thing and I am right about this!



Ok, and for real the robot thing tomorrow.

What's the buzz...

So we have the fancy cable which affords us the privilege of access to Comcast's On Demand menu. Recently in the free movies section they've had "Jesus Christ Superstar" and I finally had time to sit down and rewatch it.

That's right, I said REwatch.

I love this movie* although maybe not for the obvious reasons. Ok, actually it's probably pretty obvious given that most people who know me would probably not choose "religious" as an accurate adjective while describing me to strangers. I've been trying to explain my fascination with the film to my roommate but I just get blank stares.**

Despite its title and protagonist I think the movie JCS is really more about how my parent's generation saw themselves and the world they were living in. Briefly, peaceful martyrs isolated in a metaphorical wasteland that was controlled by multiple factions (some incompetent others too constrained by tradition and fear to effect any real change) and surrounded by peers obsessed with consumerism. Additional anti-military sentiment is fairly obvious as well.

The interesting thing, I think, is how the movie seems to comment on the futility of the peace and love generation's efforts. Like Titanic, everyone knows how this story ends. Jesus dies. And despite what you may personally believe, in the film that's it. Run credits. Additionally, there's a ton of angst over "selling out," if you will, and while it doesn't end well in either case at the time it seems right and almost justified. (Judas thinking he can change things from inside the belly of the beast, Thomas avoiding possible arrest so he can continue to the fight later).

Equally important, no real alternative in either case is proposed. The message seems to be that either you die young or you eventually grow up, betray what was important to you relatively easily and then with only moderate nostalgia, you move on (at the end, reboarding the bus, only a few characters turn to look back at the cross and nobody stays behind).

So despite the poppy, over the top dance routines, the movie is actually pretty bleak.

I also love the anachronisms for their own sake (machine guns, tanks, tank tops). IDK, that stuff always makes me smile. But the icing on the cake has to be the wardrobe (seriously, those pants!) and facial hair. Oh my goodness scruffy hippies. I just want to move into a tepee in the back yard with you. If I had a back yard. Because you seem fun and artistically grimy (still smelly but maybe not like death or urine).

It was hard to find pictures for the unenlightened so I'm including a couple of Youtube videos. Try to enjoy.







I also went to Ikea over the weekend. More about that and robots in my next post.

*To clarify, I'm talking specifically about the movie version of Jesus Christ Superstar made in 1973 based upon the Broadway play. I have no interest in the theater version or any subsequent movie remake that may be happening in the future.

**Despite looking vaguely like a smash-up of the Two Gallants, in JCS Jesus is pretty freaking emo. In the fifteen year old sort of way. So minus half a star for that.

Transister Radio

Oh M Ward. You are so awesome. It is no wonder Zooey Deschanel teamed up with you. I would probably steal your voice like the witch in Disney's version of the Little Mermaid* and let it sing me to sleep every night. That's maybe creepier than I intended it to be. Also, I have an Ipod so it's probably not strictly necessary.

She and Him were pretty amazing despite some serious sound issues. Zooey is cute as a button but oh M Ward, the way you rend music from your guitar. Alas.

It's probably time for sleep.

*I finally found a copy of my preferred version of the Little Mermaid based upon the Hans Christian Anderson story. It's a bit darker than Disney's.

**Because I spend two hours a month listening to their work I've come to have some favorite Chicago poets. Currently I have the following poem by Toni Asante Lightfoot stuck in my head (she makes everything sound dirty when she reads which makes me blush and hover over the mute button at the radio station). I don't know the title but it's very clever.

He.
He used to lick.
He used to lick my face.
He used to lick my face, I thought it sweet.
He used to lick my face, I thought it sweet to him.
He used to lick my face, I thought it sweet. To him I was a sucker.

At the Bottom of Everything

This week owned me, it kicked my ass in every imaginable way. It was very sad for all involved. And now it's over. So maybe karma can cut me a break?

How did my week suck? Let me count the ways:
1. Work. My cube assignment was moved into uncharted territory, far from the people who have made Monday through Friday bearable. It takes me about three months to fully warm up to new people and I only have two months left. I imagine that everyone around me thinks I'm weird which is unfair because I am clearly the normal one. Also the keyboard was filthy! I felt like Monk cleaning it out. Gross.

2. Arienette. Some jackass-douchebag-motherfucker stole my bike's back wheel. What the fuck?! Really?! What the hell are you going to do with a tire? I've been imagining revenge scenarios since Wednesday. I am not a forgiving person. Especially considering that it's going to cost me around $130 to replace the damned thing. That's twice what I originally paid for the thing! Not cool. Part of the issue is keeping it as a fixed gear/non-coasting bike.

Side note: I know this is probably a ridiculous thing to do. Culturally, I mean. But like the author of Stuff White People Like, I can't seem to help myself. It's kind of like driving a stick shift car, more control and more fun. And since I'd pay later to change it back, I might as well get it done right the first time. Provided the shop I took it to can figure out the logistics. I sort of suspect it's a drug front.

3. Fortunately I found a reduced price Saturday ticket to Lollapalooza. I didn't really plan to go at all this year since $80/day seems steep to pay for an event. (I understand the arguments of dividing per band you see, etc but it's still $80 down). Also I don't really like festivals since I end up hot and gross feeling, dislike portapotties and get sunburned just thinking about no cloud coverage. However, it's my birthday weekend and I have a boatload of SPF 50 leftover from Pitchfork.

The urge to see CSS, creative budgeting and the desire to have a Friday off work tempted me to get a Friday ticket as well. Even after the bike incident of '08 I thought I could maybe swing the entrance fee. Of course, I made my final decision at 2:30 am Friday after going out Thursday night. By which time tickets were sold out. I blame Radiohead.

4. All the little things you don't think about that go wrong on an every day basis but suddenly develop significance when larger things fuck up. Examples: missing the bus, losing newly purchased items, late payment charges, sudden shift to genuinely hot/humid summer weather that I dislike, etc.

5. Deleted for personal reasons.

6. Missing the vast majority of Shark Week because I didn't realize it was happening. Fortunately we have On Demand and I caught parts of the Top 10 Deadliest Sharks, How to Not Get Bit, Dirty Jobs: Greenland something Shark.


*The (Liz) Lemon Shark-My New Favorite

I feel like there was something else but I forget. I know this is all very whiny. IDC.

Today ought to be better. Devotchka, Okkervil River, Wilco and Mason Jennings for sure. Probably some other stuff. We'll just have to wait and see.

Indeed!

P.S. I have been listening to the new Black Kids album all week and wish to amend any prior statements I may have made. It is awesome! Especially the song Love Me Already. I really like how the music mirrors the lyrics. Also the new Conor Oberst song Danny Callahan is also fun and awesome.

Hurricane Jane

Sometimes life feels like a bad 90's movie. But maybe I just want to listen to the Violent Femmes and have ridiculous pseudo-intelligent discussions about my life's angst.

Every once in awhile I'll see something really weird walking down the street. And oddly, I'm usually the only one who reacts at all. Today it was a robot. But like a for real robot like the Flight of the Conchords video. So I don't think I'm delusional.


I slept in today for the first time in a month. And it felt wonderful. "Slept in" meaning 10+ hours of sleep. Lazy Saturdays are the best.

Then, in my third trip to Laurie's this week alone, I picked up the new Black Kid's album (allowing me to continue my record of being a total idiot, thank you).

Several of these songs were on their EP "Wizard of Ahhhs" and frankly sounded better then. Perhaps we can blame Capitol Records for the disparity, but the songs on "Partie Traumatic" are a lot more produced sounding. Which is probably the point. And while I do enjoy being able to understand all the lyrics, I've started to question the band's narrative style. However, lest you think my loyalties have shifted, I am still very enamored with the 'new' songs.

I also spent a sizeable portion of the day hanging around Dollop. Fortunately it wasn't awkward. Here's the thing. On Monday after Pitchfork I was tired and ended up on the express bus to work. Long story short, whilst I was standing on the curb I was approached by a slightly scruffy young lass. And because it had been a long weekend and I was blasting some music in an effort to wake up, I missed what she said at first. So, honest mistake, I thought she was asking for a dollar.

Now, I never carry much (if any) cash. But as it happened I had some money in my pocket but giving her the dollar only got me a weird look. Because as it turns out she's a Dollop barrista, and she thought she recognized me. And suddenly I was Sandra Bullock at the beginning of Two Weeks Notice when she puts money in the poor man's full cup of coffee (and whatever, it's in the previews for the film, don't judge me). Which mostly means I'm an asshole.

Anyway, if you were one of the lucky few I messaged on Facebook today, your picture probably came from Penny Postcards. It's a fun site.

"What's sweet? What's bitter?"

So Pitchfork fell firmly in the "Awesome" column again this year. I could probably spend an hour discussing the festival but I'm still exhausted. Perhaps if I spend any portion of this weekend at Dollop I can summarize the awesomeness that was Les Savy Fav, Jarvis Cocker, etc (sadly I missed M Ward but She & Him are playing in town soon.) I even managed to restrain myself at the record fair so I only picked up a few things:

1. British Sea Power-Open Season
2. Of Montreal-? 7" (Subtext Read, Nothing New?/Back to School)
3. Rainer Maria-Hell and High Water 7"

I've had side A of the last one on repeat for the past 24 hours or so. Until they're rolling out of the speakers, I tend to forget how much I actually enjoy Rainer Maria. I love their song titles but generally I skip over them on my way down the alphabet on my Ipod. Their roughness reminds me of Braid but not in a derivative way. But I digress.


"I've seen the girl who'll be brave when I run off
She's been picking her fights like she knows how to win them"

Ring Ring Ring...Banana Phone

Some people sleep walk, others talk in their sleep. My roommate makes crank calls when she's unconscious. True story!

I just got a new phone. It's kind of snazzy.



Last night I went to sleep at 1:30am. Whatever, I was watching Weeds and it's funny. Around 2:30 my phone rang. Weird! It looked like Jessica Simpson was calling me but in fact it was Sarah-Sarah. (Fun story, I got my phone in the Janesville mall where they have a Proactive booth with a picture of Jessica Simpson on it. So I took a picture of her picture and set it as Sarah-Sarah's caller ID photo. And then I found $5).

Back to the original story. So, ring ring ring, it's 2:00 am and Sarah-Sarah is calling. But when I answered she did not say anything. Then I fell back asleep. Ten minutes later she called me again! So, thinking something was wrong I went and knocked on Sarah's door. So either she was faking it, she sleep-dials or my phone is possessed.

I actually spent the rest of the night dreaming I was awake and my phone was possessed. But that is neither here nor there.

Sarah erased the evidence but here's proof that I did not dream the whole thing:


p.s. Also it turns out I am sort of distantly related to Celine Dion. My step mom's great grandmother was sisters with Celine Dion's great grandmother. How awesome is that?! (Note: very)

We Have to Take the Car...

I <3 my bike. It's a fun and functional way to navigate the streets of Chicago.



Arienette (my bike) kind of looks like that but fewer doodads on it (like tire guards and gears). I had to go all the way to the suburbs to buy it which meant that by the time I got to the guy's house I would have pretty much bought anything. No way was I going home empty handed. So even though I could barely ride a fixed gear bike at the time, I was determined to learn.

The progress was slow but steady. I eventually made a few modifications like getting rid of the world's most uncomfortable bike seat ever and adding a bell. And then winter came and like the wuss I am I retired Arienette in favor of not dying in a slushy gutter.

Sadly, last weekend tragedy struck. Long story short, my back tire went now flat. Last time I had that issue with a bike people started stealing it bit by bit. True story, people are jerks. And even though Sarah was kind enough to find me a seller on Craigslist with a tallbike for sale ($200-cheap!) I decided to suck it up and wheel my baby across the sidewalk for a repair.

The downside of having Arienette good as new means I have no justification to pursue this:


(the bike, obviously, not the rider-ha!)







Which is sad because as some of you know, I have wanted to ride a tall bike forever. Or at least since I first read this:





Courtesy of Nothing Nice to Say.

Although my birthday is coming up...

In Your Phone, Listening to Your Conversations

I know there are a million "Overheard in..." sites but whatever. Funny things I heard people say recently when they thought only the customer service agent could hear them. (Most are "that's what she said" statements because I have the mentality of a 12 year old and watch the Office too much)

1. "Does my mom need it? Ok, I'll give it to her."
2. "I like to be high. It's a pleasant surprise for my customers."
3. "Thank you for sharing your children with me. I always enjoy that."

-all heard on 6/10/08

Miau Miau, Field of Catz-ah!

Miau Miau, Field of Cats-ah!
I enjoy Stereo Total a hell of a lot for not being able to understand the vast majority of their lyrics. Although I am of German descent, my communication abilities are limited to English, Spanish and a random ASL signs (and the alphabet). None of this helps figure out what Stereo Total means when they sing "Miau miau wilde Katze." C'est la vie.

I hate losing touch with people. It sucks. And I'm especially good at it, it seems, which sucks even more. And I worry that I've changed too much or not enough in the interim. A couple of friends have theorized that if the you from 5 years ago would hate the today version of you then you're probably doing something right (did you follow that? sorry!). I don't know if I agree. I think maybe me five years ago would be puzzled by some of my choices and I'd certainly have some advice to dispense to younger-me but I think we'd get on pretty well for the most part. And I think that's a good thing overall.

I think maybe it's better not to regret too much. Everyone screws up and you'd learn very little by making the "right" choice all the time. I love playing "what if..." but at the end of the day it's your little red wagon, and you've got to pull it (as ani difranco might say). Which is to say that I was always going to fuck up certain things and I try to just accept that. I think it's important to act as though you have free will but I also think that given a set of circumstances you're pretty much always fated to make the same decision given your character and experiences.

Indeed.

It Would Be OK

I am aware that growing up in small-town Wisconsin gave me some unrealistic expectations. Going to college in Madison probably did not help as I still find myself stunned at the things I've heard my co-workers say in complete seriousness.

A sampling for your enjoyment (paraphrased):

1. "If we had a woman president, other countries would not respect us and they would attack the US."

2. "If a woman wears that out in public, she is asking to be raped." (Female co-worker commenting on a rather modest bikini in a Victoria Secret catalog).

3. "I don't understand why someone would live a good life and then at 80 decide that they're going to get married to someone of the same sex and therefore condemn themselves to hell." "Imagine the honeymoon-cobweb city!" (and then she hung up a picture of the couple in her cube-as a reminder to be a good Christian or something).

4. "Ms. is ONLY an appropriate title for divorced women."



WTF?

Hip or...?

Sarah-Sarah and I have started playing a new game when we go to shows. It's called HIP or PEDOPHILE? Essentially the game involves pointing out other concert attendees and deciding if they are HIP or if they are PEDOPHILES. Sometimes they are BOTH.

Once we played using a the video of I'm From Barcelona's song "We're From Barcelona."* Those members of the at-home audience can play along if they have a copy (conveniently found on Youtube ).

HIP or PEDOPHILE is derived from 'the Burg mini-episode titled HIP or DANGEROUS .

Which is my way of saying you should watch the 'Burg.



Indeed.









*Disclaimer. I in no way mean to imply that any member of I'm From Barcelona is, in fact, a pedophile (or hip for that matter, for those who find the term offensive, or even that any member of I'm From Barcelona *has* hips). It just happened to be the music video we had On Demanded when we created our version of the game. I do mean to imply, however, that some of the band members have creepy facial hair.

**I am slowly teaching myself HTML tags. I imagine it's as annoying as people learning to make signs in Paintshop and using five billion fonts on a single page. The internet is fun!

I'll Never Let Go

So is there ever an ok time to admit a Celine Dion obsession? Because seriously. Part of it is watching Titanic to many times as a young adult (which some people can probably relate to even if they won't admit it). Somewhere I have a tape full of different radio edits of THAT song spliced with actual film dialog ("the ship is sinking and there aren't enough lifeboats." You know what I'm saying, don't pretend otherwise). So that's about a third of it.

I don't even really like Cathy Griffin but she has certainly contributed to the problem. I caught part of her stand up routine on Bravo once (sometimes there is just nothing on cable). She was describing seeing Celine Dion in Vegas and the way she tells it makes it sound like an amazing show. Specifically the part where Celine comes out on stage and is shocked (!-Simply shocked!) that anyone came to see her despite the fact that she apparently sells out the house every.single.night. And, from the way Kathy tells it, she's so appreciative and gracious and gentile that it seems like going to see Celine Dion in concert would be a total ego boost for every member of the audience. (And I bet she does the song from Titanic like eight times complete with radio edits-seriously, I'm not getting over that any time soon).

Around the time I saw this on TV, a friend from work actually went to Las Vegas where Celine Dion had residency at one of the major hotels. And so of course I jokingly suggested that she go see the concert and report back (and then later not-so-jokingly begged-I'm not a proud person). To strengthen my case, and because I have to entertain myself somehow, I ended up drawing my imagined photo montage of Celine Dion's show. Celine Dion singing at the front of the stage, Celine Dion gliding over the audience on a swing (didn't she do that in a perfume commercial once?), Celine Dion on a faux-Titanic prow, Celine sprawled on the top of a grand piano and so forth. It was a marvelous artistic achievement for all that it only resembled actual fact insofar as the figure looked vaguely lady-like with a long face and even longer hair.


(Essentially what I drew)

And maybe this would all be fine and normal and within the realm of acceptability except for the fact that I often find myself referencing a deep-seated love of Ms. Dion with people who are not privy to the joke (or at least the back-story to what was once a joke but is maybe bordering on sad reality if loitering in Walgreens for the sole purpose of hearing the rest of THAT song is any indication, sadly without the movie quotes).

If there were any defense, it would be that my obsession is really with an intentionally fictional Celine. I'd liken my love of Ms. Dion to an ironic infatuation (intentionally defining irony the way Alanis Morsette did or in the way people say some T-shirts are ironic when they are not). I don't really want to see Celine Dion live or run her fan club but it amuses me to claim to want to do both. And it amuses me even more to try to convince others to want to want to do those things too.

Which is a not so subtle reference to my obsession with (quoting) The Breakup (a movie I have not and will not see though I did see the preview a billion times), which I will probably not ever explain in this space because doing so would be a rehashing of the whole Celine Dion thing.

Sportz Night

Ok, seriously SERIOUSLY (?!)

I generally feel kind of miserly when I tell people about the (no longer cute) neighbor's Sportz Nights. I can never convey my true disdain because most people like sports of some sort and to those people, Sportz Night is tailgating 101. Essentially there's a lot of grilling, beer drinking and theoretical game watching. I can't explain why I want to rain on their parade, but I do. Maybe because I'm not-so-secretly a bitch. Because when I complain about Sportz Night I'm kidding-but not really.

As a non-sports enthusiast, Sportz Night sucks. It's always loud and sort of awkward because our dining room windows look out into the space between apartments where they grill and also their dining room windows (side note, neither room seems to be used much for actual dining). Thus walking around in my apartment makes me feel like an animal on display in a zoo. And, since I'm judging them (that's right!) I get sort of paranoid that they are judging me, too.

Mostly I hate Sportz Night because of the beanbag game the neighbors play. I do not understand the beanbag game and I do not want to. In and of itself it's actually pretty innocuous looking:



The object of the game appears to be tossing the beanbag into the hole in the ramp. If there's more to it, I don't actually care.

The issue is more of what the game represents than what it is. Specifically, it means we live next to ex-frat members. I remember walking down Langdon St. in Madison on game day (aka Sportz Night) and all the frats would have this set up on the sidewalk. Thus it will forever be negatively associated with meatheads, sports fanatics and the smell of sloppy drunken assholes who yell in your face for no reason as you try to navigate past them. It's one of the few things I don't miss about college. And I kind of thought I'd escaped all of that.

But now it's 1:35 A.M. and Sportz Night, which is almost always an afternoon activity, is in full swing.

Beanbag games after midnight-seriously?!

MODULAR MONTHLY CHICAGO - Cut Copy after-party

Cut Copy DJ set, Modular DJ Jordan Z & more surprises in store!

$5 w/ ticket stub to the Cut Copy Abbey Pub show


...or...
$10 w/ RSVP to ModularPeople. com
(RSVP required)


Cut Copy after-party from 10pm-4am


FIRST 100 PEOPLE TO RSVP to ModularPeople. com
GET IN FOR HALF-OFF!
THAT'S $5 DUDES

Start Time: Wednesday, May 7, 2008 at 10:00pm
End Time: Thursday, May 8, 2008 at 4:00am
Location: evilOlive
Street: 1551 W.



Division Street (@ Milwaukee + Ashland)
City/Town: Chicago, IL

Mixtape For My Faux-"Last Day of Work"*

This turned out to be a bit premature. Alas.

1. The Good Life-Some Bullshit Escape (Black Out)
2. Tegan and Sara-Wake Up Exhausted (So Jealous)
3. Cursive-A Career in Transcendence (Storms of Early Summer)
4. Against Me!-Walking Is Still Honest (Crime [EP])
5. Art Brut-Blame It on the Trains (It's a Bit Complicated)
6. Maria Taylor-One for the Shareholder (11:11)
7. Belle & Sebastian-Step Into My Office Baby (Dear Catastrophe Waitress)
8. Bikini Kill-Suck My Left One (CD Version of the First Two Albums)
9. Embrace-Money (s/t)
10. Desaparecidos-$$$ (Read Music, Speak Spanish)
11. The Faint-Your Retro Career Just Melted (Danse Macabre)
12. T(I)NC-Capitolism Stole My Virginity (A New Morning...)
13. Les Savy Fav-Knowing How the World Works (Inches)
14. The Clash-Career Opportunities (s/t)
15. John Vanderslice-Coming and Going on Easy Terms (Cellar Door)
16. Tilly and the Wall-the Freest Man (Bottoms of Barrels)
17. She and Him-Magic Trick (KCRW Open Road Recording)
18. Devotchka-We're Leaving (How It Ends)

*This is the truncated version as the original was far too long.

**On an unrelated note, I've been looking for that John Vanderslice song forever. Except I was convinced that it was by Wolf Parade even though there was no evidence to support such a belief (there may have actually been *negative* evidence).

From Such Great Heights

The past couple of weeks have been hell-ish. But the job drama is over, in the way where i still have one, so that's a positive thing. And I went out with coworkers last night. There's a bar/restaurant across the street from where I work that makes very strong Long Islands (which I don't drink because tequila is my nemesis) and awesome Whisky Sours.

Originally, when I thought I was going to be through working at the CQC, I felt like an actress playing a prisoner facing their execution. The audience knows that the hero is going to escape (perhaps the hanging rope will break) and ride off into the sunset. And in fact, I did get my reprieve. The governor, as it were, called at the 11th hour. Except I didn't get a pardon, I got commuted to a life sentence (or six month extension of my contract).

Now I feel like a supposed terminal patient whose doctor later calls them back to admit the labs made a mistake and they're not really dying. It should be great news but all I can think of now is how I've already sold my home and bought my ticket to Europe (metaphorically).

If nothing else keeping my job means that I will be able to afford my adult apartment and the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed (ie. spending too much on CDs, concert tickets, etc.)

Speaking of CDs, I went to Laurie's (Planet of Sound-henceforth just Laurie's) today to buy myself celebratory music. I love that store, seriously. They generally have what I'm looking for even when I'm not actually looking for anything. This is how I get myself into trouble, actually. And the staff is super nice. I've finally broken the silence barrier so now sometimes I actually exchange a sentence or two with whoever is behind the register. It's kind of awesome.

Today's purchases included Lucinda William's "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" and the Postal Service's "Give Up." I've actually had both albums in digital format at one point or another but have sadly lost them. And lucky me, the gentleman behind the register decided to forgo charging me tax on my purchase. This was especially great considering the amount of money I'm responsible for sending the government in the next few days to balance out my taxes (or the lack thereof).

And now I'm sitting at Dollop drinking peppermint tea and contemplating what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Stay tuned and we'll be surprised together.