something worth holding on to

oh, MAN. What a great, great concert.

I told you that you wouldn't hear from me till Monday, but I lied. I'm stuffing my apps bright and early tomorrow (er, later today), so everything had to be done, copied and collated by 8pm this evening so I could make my way over to the Dumbledore Double Door to see Fountains of Wayne.

And I am SO GLAD I did. Fun, poppy Chicago-based band Office opened, and they've become a lot tighter in the year since I last saw them. They've got a new album out now, or soon-to-be-out, so I should look into that. Not that I've had time to listen to any of the other seven albums I've gotten in the last six weeks, including the "new" FoW CD I picked up from the merch table this evening. Anyway. Apparently Adam Schlesinger is their label boss, or their mentor, or their harmony god or whatever, and I don't doubt that, because there is NOTHING that man can't do. He is grrrreat. No one sings "shoo-bap shoo-bap" or "sha-na-na-na-na yeah" with as much conviction as he does, and rightly so. Those earnest little pop backup moments are what kill me in FoW's music.

So there was a lot of rocking out to be had, for sure (they ended with a rather ripping rendition of "Go, Hippie," which isn't a song I was expecting to hear), but more importantly, there was some soft rocking-out, in the form of my favorite "Troubled Times," which, oh, my. After the anticlimax of the WTTW taping two years ago and the rather humdrum set from last year's Taste of Chicago, I honestly never expected to hear a deeper album cut like that at their live shows. But they played it, and it was amazing, and I could've died right there--possibly from the sheer loveliness of it all, or possibly because it was 120 degrees inside the venue and I'm back to the land where people SMOKE INDOORS making it even hotter and stuffier and ick. Still, it was absolutely worth it, for me and for the rest of the sold-out crowd--including a lot of older concert-goers, which was surprising and heartening. I mean, I drag my mom to concerts all the time, but it's nice to see other people's moms and dads at shows, even without children in tow.

It's going to be a crrrrazy concert-going autumn--we already have tickets to Wilco and the Decemberists (again! end of October! I love them and cannot possibly get enough), and need to get tix for Of Montreal, the New Pornographers, Nada Surf, Girlyman, possibly Voxtrot if I can swing it, and others I'm very reluctantly passing up for financial and/or scheduling reasons (Kaiser Chiefs, Interpol, Rilo Kiley, Flaming Lips). But this concert set a high bar for the next two months of live shows, no question.

FoW FTW, people. FT freaking W.

voldemort can't stop the rock

I am on vacation. You probably won't hear from me again till post-clerkship stuffing, which promises to be 100% debacle. (Er, that means after Monday, non-law-school folks.)

But I have, finally, only a month late, finished HP7. And yes, Justin, you were right--Harry is... a wizard.

Anyway, I'm ready to talk about it, even though everyone else is all talked out by now, I'm sure. So shoot me an email or make a note in the comments if you want to talk magicky things. And can I just say right now that I was so pleased with myself for calling a major plot point? Erica will back me up. woo! wizards!

bright future in sales

I may never join a public television station again.

Because they do NOT STOP HARASSING YOU FOR MONEY EVER. Ever ever ever. Even after I've asked them to stop. Even after I told them that the only reason I joined was to attend a Fountains of Wayne taping, which they totally botched by cutting their time on the broadcast in half. Even after I tell them that I'm a student and that I don't have the extra funds. Even after they try to sell me the "student membership," which, did you not hear me? I DO NOT WATCH YOUR TV. I WATCHED IT ONCE AND WAS UNHAPPY WITH IT.

I guess I'm pleased that public TV exists, in a theoretical sense; maybe its very presence is making my life richer somehow. But when they DO NOT STOP CALLING? I am NOT pleased. Grr arrgh.

we sold our clothes to the state

Back in Chicago, but not for long (off to San Fran on Friday), and therefore extremely busy right now. I haven't even been able to get to the grocery store, which means I've been scavenging in my apt for food that I left three months ago. There's a surprising lot of it, even though none of it strikes me as particularly nutritious. I had two slightly-freezer-burned veggie burgers for dinner last night, followed up by two biscotti; had two biscotti for lunch today, along with two packages of easter gummi eggs (still soft and chewy!). I think I'm back on the biscotti--I go through stages with food where I'll eat something all the time, then just totally tire of it and not want it anymore. Happened to me with salad this past spring; I think I've had so little salad all summer that I'm ready to return to the salad fold. I was all about the cinnamon Life/cinnamon Honey Bunches of Oats combo for breakfast last summer; can't even tell you the last time I purchased either of those cereals (enjoying vanilla almond Special K at the moment). So anyway. It's kind of exciting turning to my kitchen cabinet and poking around at the food once loved, now forgotten--I have about 20 pouches of tuna/chicken in various flavors/preparations, but not much in the way of side dishes, so I have to be creative about it. I do have a couple cans of green beans, for some odd reason--maybe a microwave chicken/green bean instant casserole? Could be good! Could be gross! It's an adventure!

Anyway. In the throes of a LOT of journal stuff at the moment, to be followed up with a LOT of clerkship stuff. Blerg. At least my apartment is sparklier and cleaner than it's been... possibly ever. Not since I moved in initially has it been so clean. Tilex = the best thing ever. Who knew my shower grout was so gross? Not I, apparently.

so little else occupying my head

I am totally freaking awesome.

Because only I can stand up quickly in the bar restroom at my last Work Club event, excited that Kaiser Chiefs' "Ruby" was on the PA, and not notice the shiny freaking huge metal handdryer right over the toilet. I hit my head so hard I saw stars, almost threw up, could barely see straight and now have an enormous lump up there. Totally awesome, right? I am so poised it kills me.

So, that's one way to celebrate the end of summer. Another way would've been going out w/ some work friends this evening, as planned, but my head still hurts like hell, so I think I'll just go back to napping (as I have been for the last two hours--don't you envy my rockstar Friday night?). I missed Meerkat Manor's first new ep this season, but it's being re-run in less than an hour (woo), so I think I'll watch that, too. I wanted my summer to end with a bang, but not like this, not like this.

For those keeping track, though, Work Club gave me a job offer today, so they apparently want me back despite the attenuating liability concerns stemming from my abject clutziness. My fierce legal research skillz are worth their weight in potential worker's comp claims, I suppose. Sigh.

just a small town girl

I fail at karaoke.

Seriously. My throat feels shredded right now. I don't know how people do this regularly. I am a choral singer, damnit. I do not belt. I was never meant to belt. I learned good vocal technique at such an early age that I actually had to have belting broken down and explained to me for my sophomore year high school musical. I found it so weirdly foreign--the musical director told me to say a vowel, then to use that same "voice" and extend the noise of the vowel, as though I were singing it, and it was SO HARD and sounded so awkward. I never really got comfortable with it then, and I'm still not very comfortable with it now. I have a very, very small belting range and not a lot of nuance.

But in a noisy karaoke bar? YOU HAVE TO SCREAM TO BE HEARD. So I SCREAMED. And now I hurt, oh, lord, I hurt. And because I am a worry-wart, I can feel the nodes and polyps forming this very moment. Blip. Blip. Blip.

Well, maybe not. I'm drinking water and telling myself that one night of SCREAMING won't really ruin my vocal cords. But it just sucks that there isn't, like, choral-karaoke bar. Where you get together and sing Mozart's Requiem or Handel's Messiah and rock out to the fugues and take turns being the soloists. I like that idea.

And my voice might be tired afterward, but at least it wouldn't HURT. OW.

It's such bitter irony--I love pop music, but I was never meant to perform it in front of an audience, I suppose. Sigh. Anyway. More soon. It's late, I'm tired, and there're at least three more glasses of water with my name on them. Ow ow ow ow ow.

where i find my heaven

hey, kids.

Very tired. And on my way out of town for a couple of days, so this is really just a passing hello, not a long, meaningful greeting. Sorry about that--I am more tired this week than I can remember. I've had a relatively well-rested summer, I suppose. Usually it gets to be around 11:30pm, midnight and I'm not THAT tired, so I stay up and watch sitcom reruns till 2 or whatever. I actually went to bed at 11:15 on Monday night! and I'm still tired! I've been busting my ass at the gym this week, so maybe that's part of it. Those summer lunches will NOT get the best of me if I can help it.

So anyway. I haven't read HP7 yet. If you spoil it for me, I will hunt you down and levicorpus you. or worse. *grrrowls*

I did see a great Amos Lee concert last night, and a great Yankees game this past Sunday, and I get the suspicion that my weekend will be full of great music, as well. In a related piece of business, I would like to hit the TMBG show at the Bowery next weds night, but I do not have a show-going companion--O NYC friends, who would like to join me? pretty please?

For now, though? Going to bed. Have the sneaky suspicion that I'm forgetting something, but that's probably because half of my clothes (sweatshirts, long pants, etc) for the weekend are already in my tent, courtesy of my parents. Provided I don't do something stupid like miss my first train or my connecting train, I will be in the Berkshires by noon.

And oh, I cannot wait.

we've got to save ginny weasley from the basilisk

it's here! I have it!

I'm not staying up all night to read it--I have gotten far too little sleep this week and I want to savor the reading experience. Plus I have to get up early to go to the beach with the Boy and his firm. I may take my little prize possession in my tote bag with me. After all, what's the beach without some beach reading, eh?

Plus, I have to have it finished by FRFF next weekend. That's far too many people in one place to keep from accidently spoiling me. And I will throttle any man, woman or child who spoils the ending. Period. I've been practicing my bat-bogey hex, so just you watch out.

kitten break

because we haven't had one in awhile, and because she's SO CUTE (and cancer-free, still, which is very good news):

shoot an apple off my head

I'm a little behind in my World Series of Pop Culture watching, so I didn't get to Wednesday's ep till now. And though I thrill to the continual Zoolander questions, I feel like they're sort of pandering to me when the answer is actually "Magnum." Sheesh.

Hearing Pat Kiernan deadpan a series of lyrics about backsides, though? Priceless. Man. I'm horrified that neither of the contestants knew the lyrics to "Big Bottom," however. Talk about mudflaps...

Soooo... I'm re-reading HBP in preparation for next Friday night. And there's a lot I love--particularly J.K. Rowling's little gerund-y asides after a line of dialogue, perfectly setting a scene, making me giggle out loud on a Metro-North train crowded with people. But I just can't get behind the Harry/Ginny stuff. Not that I have a better suggestion for a love interest (Draco?), but it just feels forced. Someone (Cassie Clare?) wrote a spot-on essay when HBP came out about it being a plot-driven rather than emotion-driven romance, which is because Rowling comes from a plot-driven perspective, or something like that. Anyway, it made sense at the time, and it helped me to forgive the one wrong note in an otherwise very compelling book--after all the SHOUTING and ANGST and 900 PAGES of OotP, it's truly a triumphant return to form. GoF is probably my fave book so far; I love the puzzles and quest motif and the wholly unexpected shock of a major character dying at the end. HBP is probably second, though, and I have very, very high hopes for our final installment. *giddy*

Oh, back to the World Series--there's a category made for me: "I'm With the Band," wherein they name 3 "lesser" members of a band and you name the band. Easy peasy. Everyone KNOWS Will Champion's in Coldplay. GOSH.

And from Thursday's ep? A category entitled "Those Talented Baldwin Brothers: All of the questions in this category are about Alec Baldwin. ..." *rimshot*

...I'm starting to think I need a World Series of Pop Culture tag. I seriously can't shut up about this show. Should I be embarrassed about this?

(but what's not to like about a show that features an entire category about Weird Al songs?)

a thousand times a day

OMG HAVE TO BLOG:

The World Series of Pop Culture just referenced Zoolander! hooray! (The question: name the movie associated with the quote: "I'm a hand model, mama--a finger jockey. We don't think the same way the face and body boys do.") No matter how many faults I have with this program (WHY would you send someone who admittedly doesn't know 80s songs to answer an entire category about them?!), I definitely love it. and I can't believe it's been a year since the last round. Seriously. where has the time gone?

(YAY for billie jean lyrics! and I can't believe the dude didn't know it. OR the other guy. what idiots!)

(also, you're searching for your LOST SHAKER OF SALT in margaritaville, dude.)

(also pt. 2, I kind of hated Cheetarah by the end of last year's competition, but I really like that they're hosting backstage this year. and Mason from El Chupacabra is a Pop Candy reader! yay for them. I would like to see them do well again this year.)

ANYway. Hi, blog. It's been awhile.

I meant to blog on the 4th. 16 years, 16 years, got a bike accident, got you for 16 years... but instead, I got busy watching the Nathan's hot dog eating contest and the New Pornographers concert in Battery Park (WITH Neko Case, who is AMAZING. I wish I had the power behind her pipes). And then I spent the weekend working a little, and working out a little (BLERG summer food and drink), and watching Avenue Q (yaaaaay), and hitting some balls at the Chelsea Piers driving range... and NOT putting together my list of judges for clerkships. Sigh. I need to do that.

I did do laundry and mop and swiff and dust yesterday, and I should go to bed so I can go to the gym before work again tomorrow morning (like I have for the last week--seriously, I'm so good, it will probably kill me)... but I'm a night person, and I don't want to. There are Frasier reruns to watch and blogs to read! sigh.

So, yeah. I'm still alive (whoa-ho). Less than 5 weeks left in the summer jorb. Then, off to San Fran for a bit (hooray!) and off to Hilton Head for a wedding (whee!), and then 3L starts.

Huh. wasn't I just a 1L? How is next year my 5-year college reunion? Why do I have more wrinkles than I used to? Why isn't my hair as thick as it once was? Why do college kids look so young?

Maybe I should just go to bed. G'nite, kids. More soon. Promise.

we float through each other's lives

There's just... so much. So much to say. Where do I start?

I'm listening to this amazing song right now (Umbrellas, "Ships") and it's bringing tears to my eyes, it's so gorgeous. I heard it on my iPod shuffle this morning on the way to work, possibly for the first time, and I knew it must be from my tentative list of summer mix songs, and I was reminded, more importantly and more insistently, that there is music that I'm neglecting. a LOT of music. My concert-going tendencies have hesitantly made their way into a couple of conversations at Work Club, and I now realize that most people... don't really get into music the way I do. I guess law school might've/should've clued me in to this minor detail, to a certain extent. And it does take energy, a LOT of energy, to keep on top of new music. I get weary by the end of the day, and I'd rather watch Frasier or Friends reruns on the CW late night programming than dig through my file of new music (240 items strong, notwithstanding the 400+ music blog entries since a month ago that I've neglected. F*cking prolific Stereogum). And hey, did you know that the CW shows reruns of the Jeffersons at 2:30 am? I didn't, before last night, when I woke up at 2:30 and couldn't fall back asleep till 5:30. I will also say that Pan's Labyrinth is an amazing film, and you should all watch it if you haven't already (though preferably not at 3 am). Thank heavens my subletter netflix'ed it and erroneously sent it here rather than to her place, or I might never have gotten around to seeing it.

Anyway. I saw a Wilco concert on Monday night, and MAN, do they put on a good show. The best part was a macramé owl that came down from the rafters above the stage for one song (and one song only), and Jeff Tweedy told the crowd that they wanted a whole macramé menagerie, and that we should all send our macramé handiwork to "Wilco, Chicago," and in that moment, I understood why I've been having such a hard time with my mail forwarding--all that damn macramé clogging the system. Seriously, though--they are amazing musicians and I need their new album, like, now. And their live album, too.

What else... went to Six Flags New England last weekend, despite threat of foot amputation from drop rides (seriously, like, what?). Nothing more serious happened than a set of lost keys on a particularly twisty rollercoaster, but... yeah, it was still a set of lost keys, and we had to call a locksmith and everything. We also watched UHF and a ton of YouTube'd Family Guy and Office and SNL clips and played DDR and ate pizza and cookies and generally had a ton of fun. Yay weekend. Yay Six Flags. yay cookies.

Other than that, I just can't believe it's the last week of June. Where has the time gone? I remember when I worked in between college and law school, how quickly weekends snuck by, and how fast the years spun past. I get that sense again. People are already rotating departments, or leaving for other firms, and I still really feel like I just got here. I mean, I've only done laundry here twice! (Granted, I may have more pairs of underwear and socks than the average person.) I also have no food in this apartment. It's pretty sad. Dinner = event, or takeout, and that's about it. I'm even starting to eat breakfast at work (had a tasty banana-orange smoothie this morn). I drink coffee in the mornings and not tea, since that's what's in the big carafes, and I really don't like Lipton, and no one brings to-go cups to work (I did, twice, and felt incredibly awkward both times). I'm trying to go to the gym as much as I can to fight the Work Club spread--I'm lifting still, which makes me feel strong and awesome, and I bust my ass on the elliptical, which has recently been bothering my "good" knee and thus makes me nervous.

...which also reminds me, a week from now is the Fourth. Wow.

Anyway. It feels a lot later than it is, and this is a long, rambly post, and I kind of want to sing, and I kind of want to read, and I'll probably end up watching TV, and hopefully I'll sleep through the night tonight. I just re-read my entries from July '06, and it reminded me that the frigging World Series of Pop Culture is gearing up again (July 9, mark your calendars, o ye gluttons for punishment), and I suppose I'll watch it, just to see if El Chupacabra can win again.

Those old entries also reminded me how much fun I had last summer, how great Chicago is in the summertime, and how great "Chicago" is, too (it came up on my iPod the other day and my heart nearly burst). I hope you kids back home are taking care of my city. I love NYC, too, but it's different. It's a little grittier, a little less personal, a little more intrusive. Chicago just... is. And I do miss it, especially this time of year.

Someone have a big slice of watermelon from the Dominick's stand at the Taste for me, will you please?

it's never too late

BLERG.

So, while I was out at lunch at the House o'Cheese today (that's not what it's called, but as one who worships at the altar of parmesan, it was a little slice of heaven, for sure), I missed a phone call from one of my doorpersons at my Chicago apartment telling me that my mail was "really starting to pile up back there," and politely inquiring when I would pick it up.

UM.

I will be calling tomorrow to tell them that TWICE I have sent mail-forwarding requests to my Local Post Office, and that I've received the confirmation letter in return here in NYC, but that is the ONLY piece of mail I've received since May 12. MAY 12! While I'm relieved that my mail is SOMEwhere (and heck, when do I ever read a timely Time? my apartment literature sell-by date is generally worse than a doctor's waiting room), I kind of have to throw up my hands at this point. It must be the mail carrier's complete obliviousness to my forwarding needs, because I have literally spoken to everyone else in the distribution chain, from my doorman here in NY to the head of the Local Post Office in Chicago. Maybe my Chicago doorperson can smack some sense into my mail carrier and have her PLEASE stop overstuffing my poor Chicago mailbox?

I never had this problem in four years of college mail-fowarding--but then, all my college mail went to a College Mail Depot (we had our own zip code), so they were probably way more used to forwarding summer mail than the Chicago Post Office. I just really, really want a magazine that doesn't talk about April news. Is that too much to ask?

...yes, that clunking sound you hear is my head repeatedly hitting my desk. Sigh. Time to drown my sorrows in Laundry Club, I suppose.

oh, you got me shakin'

hahahahaha.

Okay, so, I don't have time to blog. I need to get to Sleep Club so I can pry my sorry behind out of bed in the morning before work for Gym Club.

But I forgot to share yesterday that I totally Named That Commercial Tune in three notes the other day (it's an ad for Saturn cars; I left a clue in the subject header for the uninformed/curious).

And more importantly? Someone found this blog searching for "chocolate mango frappuccino zoolander." HA.

anyway. to bed! (assuming I can pry my sorry behind away from late night Frasier reruns. oh, that Niles!)

down a whispering well

Work Club heated up a little bit this week--in the broadest, vaguest terms, I got to see some Law In Action yesterday and today, and that? was awesome. Also awesome? finally seeing where Law and Order is filmed! Those iconic steps and columns! hee. I half-expected Sam Waterston or Mariska Hargitay to come charging out at me.

Anyway, we had an event at the Tenement Museum, and I'm breaking the Work Club silence a little bit because it was an incredibly meaningful experience for me. My father's parents were immigrants from Germany--they lived in Brooklyn until he was in grade school, at which point they moved out to rural New Jersey. I made a few trips to that house when I was young, and I remember a Singer sewing machine at the top of the stairs exactly like the one featured on the front page of the website. I remember that house vividly, from the heavy feel of the front room, the chrome-painted fixtures and bright red wallpaper. The old raggedy ann dolls upstairs, the twin beds, the window seat. The little bathroom with the radiator. The porch. The boxwood hedges with that distinctive smell.

The similar feeling of the rooms in the Museum evoked the kind of steely tenacity it must've taken to pack everything up and move to a foreign country, away from family and friends, swapping everything familiar for an entirely new life. The Museum reminded me of how many, many families did just that, how so many of us came from that kind of history. I definitely wasn't expecting that. I'm not sure how many law firm events will come with a side of self-reflection, but I'm very grateful for this little opportunity for quiet time in an otherwise overwhelmingly whirlwind summer.

Sleep club now? Yes, please.

for the fun and the fashion

man, it is HARD to keep up with blogging and Work Club.

In fact, I started this entry an hour ago and got sidetracked. And now it's once more time for Sleep Club.

Suffice it to say that things are good. Grades came out this week--bunnies galore, for which I'm grateful. Nary a squirrel in the bunch. (As Erica already knows, I prefer to think of my grades in terms of Maeby's report card. And I just spent 15 min on youtube trying to find that Arrested Development clip, but... no dice.) Had a bunch of fun law firm events this week as well, which means even less time around my tawny gypsy mac and its simple pleasures (music blogs... facebook... email).

And now I literally cannot keep my eyes open. Sorry I'm so boring lately. As a peace offering, I give you this:

and I have no privacy

Okay, seriously, folks.

THE AUTO TOILETS DIDN'T AUTO FLUSH TODAY.

Like, not once. And I probably went to the bathroom at least four times and used a sampling of stalls (I had a lot of coffee to make up for staying up late last night).

That does it. I guess we don't talk about the toilets at Work Club either.

...though it did yield a positive result. hmm. Boy, I can't FREAKING STAND not getting a huge bonus as a summer associate!

*hopeful*

that's what keeps me down

Hmm.

I didn't really mean for the rule regarding my not talking about Work Club to turn into the rule regarding my not talking about Anything. And I also didn't mean to be up this late. Whoops. (I might have been searching YouTube for Square One TV clips. And I might've found the Mathematics of Love, Draw a Map, Think (About the Problem), the Apple Rap, and my forever-beloved Angle Dance, among others. (I might not have found You Can Count On It or Tesselation, and that kind of really disappoints me.) I would include links, except I'm tired, and the people amongst you who have nostalgia for such things can find them very easily.

Unlike, you know, the perfect, factually-on-point case(s) you need to support the argument that your assigned senior associate/partner wants you to find on your favorite legal search engine. That's a lot harder. But I'm skirting the Work Club with that, so I'll talk about toilets instead.

I cannot FREAKING stand overly sensitive auto-flush toilets. I swear, I don't make wild gesticulations when I'm doing my business. I'm calm, sedate, orderly, whatever. But the toilets at work? Flush at LEAST two, sometimes three (or more!) times while I'm in there. And that's SO unpleasant. There's an annoying building at school with similarly problematic restrooms (ladies, I'm sure you know of what I speak), but I'm not there very often anymore, obviously. I cannot help but frequent my office WC, but I might start needing to take a bag in to cover the sensor or something. Grrr.

Also, I'm sure you cannot believe I stayed up this late just to share that with you all. More Work Club tomorrow, so off to Sleep Club now. whee.

standing in the greeting card aisle

Wow, it's been two weeks since I last blogged. Sorry about that.

Not that I have much to say right now. I mean, I do, but... I don't. Because I've started work, and the first rule about the Work Club is that you do not talk about the Work Club. Suffice it to say that I've spent a day being oriented, I'll spend half of tomorrow being further oriented and possibly starting some Real Work, and then doing various and sundry other things for the rest of the week. The sublet is great and would be perfect but for a HUGE administrative problem with the superintendent that's keeping me from receiving my mail (?!). If I weren't, you know, working full time, I probably could've gotten it totally sorted out today, but as it is, another day has gone by and another issue of Time has probably gone into the garbage. GAH.

It was great spending some time at home with fambly and kitty, though. And new camera! Kitty photos to follow. She goes in for her six-month checkup next week. Here's to hoping for more good news.

Hark! I hear the siren sound of journal work calling me! though I probably should've started before, you know, 12:45am...

time to put these combat boots away

done.

And I feel... okay.

I never know how well I've fared till the grades arrive, anyway. I feel better about some tests than others, and better about some parts of tests than other parts. I saw Mr. Doyle of giant-cat fame as I was turning in my tax exam and I hoped that was an ausipicious sign. (An actual giant cat might've been more auspicious, but I'll take what I can get.)

Anyway, we're doing sushi tonight, which we haven't done in a long while, so I'm happy about that. I'm happy that I can snooze for 90 minutes tomorrow and not feel guilty about it. I'm happy that on Saturday I go home to see the cutest kitty in the world (oh, and my parents too, I guess). And in 12 days? I start earning MONEY, real money, for the first time in nearly two years.

And I'm VERY happy about that.

cycle on your bicycle

Studying's not all fun and games, but it helps when your professor has a sense of humor. I just came across one of my favorite tax powerpoint slides of the semester, which I will attempt to recreate here:


§ 453: Mr. Doyle buys your giant cat for 10% downpayment and installments over the next five years. How are you taxed?

Income each year = payment (*) (gross profit / total contract price)

paradise by the dashboard light

[...aaaaand sorry Brendan, but I'm spent with the dashboard stuff. expect something new next time.]

I didn't get to watch the Kentucky Derby, but I know for certain I would've put my money on Street Sense, because I like the name. Also because I kept calling him "Street Spirit," and I thought it was awesome that someone named their horse after a Radiohead song. I'd totally do that. Anyway, even if his name's a little more pedestrian than I'd hoped, I'd like to see him pull for the Triple Crown. And, you know, not die, like Barbaro. Because the world can only take so many horse churches.

No time for horsies now, though, what with one measly exam to go. Oh, and spring pollen allergies can KISS MY ASS. Seriously, Claritin doesn't seem to help my awful, itchy eyes anymore, and I don't have time to see a doctor. So, collective wisdom of the internet masses: what helps YOUR allergies (eye itching in particular--the runny nose stuff is under control)? Or should I just keep rubbing them and making it worse like I'm doing now, because it feels SO good for about a second and a half before the itching turns to pain?

...anyway. back to work. grr arrrgh arrgh grr arrgh.

the dashboard melted

Per the weather widg: high today of 83, low of... 45.

Seriously? c'mon! I just took my winter coats to the cleaners. This is total craaaap. It dropped 15 degrees while I was trapped in the Lexis Lab doing page proof edits for my journal. I'm glad I brought my cute new umbrella-patterned raincoat to school so I was at least somewhat warm on the way home (though it has not, as of yet, rained today).

Also, I totally checked a woman with my shoulder on my walk back to my apartment from school. She was walking side-by-side with her middle-aged pals on a sidewalk that was already half-filled with tables and chairs (don't get me STARTED on how much I hate friggin' outdoor seating--my favorite part about winter is having full, glorious sidewalk usage), and there was a lamppost on my other side, so I didn't have anywhere else to go. I could have waited... but why should I have to wait when they're the ones who suck? So, yeah. I kind of hoped she'd try to start something. I've been working out (see bench-pressing rockstars, supra). I'm feisty. I'm tough. Come get me!

...yeah, maybe not. Anyway, sidewalk etiquette is something I take seriously, so if you're in violation of the rules, you're gonna get hurt.

And confidential to the lady in high strappy sandals who totally edged out in front of me at the corner while waiting for the light to change: do you really think that even with my heavy-ass backpack I can't walk faster than you? I'm wearing SNEAKERS, I did five miles at the gym this morning, and I felt really, really good about leaving you in my dust. Mwahahahaha.

While I'm still feeling fierce and competitive, it's time to re-attack the employment outline and practice tests. Tomorrow morning, it's on. Yeah. You heard me. It's on.

the photograph on the dashboard

why it pays to use Lexis:

I just bought this with my accumulated Lexis research points. My point total went from over 26,000 to a whopping 31--but man, am I excited.

(I suppose it probably helps that I'm a Lexis Rep. However, I've still got another year of point accumulation ahead of me--and now that Kate Spade is being added to the Lexis store next week... *rubs hands in eager anticipation*)

Anyway, expect more posts with photos in them once it arrives. (Also, expect fewer derisive comments from my friends about my continued use of a *scoff* film camera.)

dreams they complicate my life

Random observation: I have gone through more cans of diet soda in the last two days than I have in the last two weeks.

It's not all caffeinated (*tweak!*), in fact, most of it isn't. I think I get a little bit of an oral fixation when I'm stressed, so I need to be eating something, drinking something, or chewing something at all times (I've also gone through more gum in the last two days than I have in the last month, and I'd prefer to keep confidential my cracker and dry cereal intake).

Exams start tomorrow (the source of all this stress), and I'm getting things kicked off with a bang by taking Trusts & Estates bright and early tomorrow morning. The plan is to take Employment Law next Weds and Tax the Weds after (the last day). I've never taken a self-scheduled exam on the last day before; I hope the school doesn't turn into a zoo. If I feel ready (ha!) I might take Tax early, but I'm doubting that will happen.

I'm not as scared about exams as I was last year. I'm also not as overwhelmingly prepared for exams as I was last semester (for my, uh, one single exam). I'm feeling this sense of inevitability--the exams will happen, and I will be a passive recipient of them. I think I need to feel more like I can kick some ass, because, well, I can. (I think.)

I also think I need to finish working through these Trusts & Estates drills. I am a WHIZ at intestacy, though. Just try and die with out a will! I'll get your estate sorted out faster than you can say "English per stirpes," you betcha.

in the spaceship, the silver spaceship

I read these books a while back, so I feel like I should (in my infinite spare time, ha) at least re-read the first one before the movie comes out in december...

...but in the meantime, I got a pretty tiger LION daemon! (wow, it's changed already.)



you can vote on it to see if you think it matches me or not, and if you change the balance, the animal will shift. Pretty neat little gimmack. Will only work for 12 days, though, so get in on it while the getting's good. (what else do you have to do--study? pshaw.)

a way to make you smile

I really, really wish I'd come up with this idea:

Pop Songs '07, a blog that will "write about every R.E.M. song, eventually." It's pure delight for longtime fans like myself, and I'm learning new insight into old favorites already.

For instance, I have always heard "At My Most Beautiful" as a stalker song. I thought Michael's gentle, soft delivery was deliberately ironic, as he's clearly wielding a knife right below the melody line. "Saving messages just to hear your voice"? CREEPY. "Count your eyelashes secretly"? CREEPY. "I know you're closed-eye watching me, listening"? Yeah, because he's going to KILL YOU.

...and yet. Blog author Matthew Perpetua views it nothing more than a beautiful love song, and at least two of the commenters played it AT THEIR WEDDINGS. To me, this is no different than playing "Every Breath You Take" (also prominently featured in my stalkersongs playlist). I re-read the lyrics, though, and taken at face value, there's absolutely nothing sinister there... except, yes, yes there is! I'm truly astonished.

And now I'm truly behind on my work, having spent an hour reading all the Pop Songs '07 back entries and thinking about my favorite R.E.M. songs (that will have to be a post for another day, I'm afraid). Back to work. Sigh.

ruby ruby ruby ruby

Two nights, two (indie) rock stars stagediving right over/into me.

Except where Thursday night I kinda-sorta-never-really was in contact with said rock star, Friday? I got an armful of sweaty Kaiser Chief frontman. I knew the whole time he was leaping around the stage that he was eventually going to dive off, and sure enough--right in the middle of their next-to-last-song, he plummeted face-first off the stage and was ushered along the sea of people toward the back of the theater.

Except the Vic has levels, lots of them, so he was headed right for me, in the second row of the first level up, having wormed my way forward. Me, and the EIGHT HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS standing around me. I could see a look of genuine terror in his eyes as he got closer, realizing that there was nobody in this little section of the crowd with more than 50 lbs of upper-arm strength (and, um, that would be ME and my awesome bench-press skillz. phear!). Worse, the girls saw him coming and FLED BACKWARD. NO KIDDING. A potential for first-hand contact with the lead singer, and you RUN? Kids these days!

So, now it's just me standing there, and I'm doing my best to prop him up and keep him from going head-down onto the concrete. Thankfully (and quick-wittedly, though I'm fairly certain I was yelling for him at that point), the Boy rushes in from a couple rows behind and single-handedly gets Ricky up on the railing in front of us so he can introduce the band. The sold-out crowd is going wild! The lead singer is standing right above us, clutching the Boy's head for support! wooooo! (To Ricky's credit, he did seem genuinely grateful for the Boy's assistance. Those nice British lads.)

The funniest part? Afterward, the girls were all, "I almost touched him!" "Oooh!" YEAH. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED. Geez.

Anyway, the Kaiser Chiefs were incredible--SO much energy, so much fun. I've paid good money for shows that were far less entertaining.

...and then I slept till 2pm the next day. Thank you, 3-3am nights spent with a trip-to-Egypt paper (it actually DOES end, contrary to the fatalistic viewpoint expressed in the previous post). Now, just 3 little old exams to take, and 2L year is naught but a memory. Shoot, but where does the time go?

fill our mouths with cinnamon

Yesterday's Decemberists show was good, but tonight? Tonight was GREAT. Amazing set list, and I have to say--it might be worse on my back (everybody knows it sucks to grow up), but forsaking the comfort of the balcony for jostling of the stage floor just adds SO much more excitement and energy to a show, especially for as crowd-participation-heavy a concert as theirs. Speaking of, Colin stage-dived at the end of the show and nearly toppled onto me--I'd be fangirly about it, except I would've probably gotten a concussion. I can, however, vouch for the quality of his seersucker jacket (nice!).

Oh, and my little tawny gypsy mac is infinitely pleased that they played "Shiny" tonight. *strokes monitor lovingly*

I heartily recommend opening act My Brightest Diamond, Sufjan backup-singer Shara Worden's band. She opened for the Soof last fall and was decent, but she's really come into her own now. Very energetic with an unusual, fascinating voice. I love that she was classically trained and is now fronting a rock band. Shows there's still hope for me.

...I mean, um, if this lawyer stuff doesn't work out. Right. Ahem.

Back to the trip-to-Egypt paper (IT NEVER ENDS)...

box your ears and leave you here stripped bare

Did I say I was done with the trip-to-Egypt paper?

That's not true. Woefully, hearbreakingly, exhaustingly not true.

I thought group work was supposed to be better in law school. That's what I told all my interviewers last fall--we're going to be collegial laywers someday, so the group work now is so much better because everyone cares more than in high school/college/whatever.

I now realize that the extent of my "group work" was working on legal writing projects with a like-minded study partner, who, yes, DID care. That is most assuredly not always the case, and it fucking sucks.

I'm going to bed. I'm pissed, I'm tired, and I'm sad that it's coloring my appreciation of the Decemberists (because they were wonderful tonight, and I'm sure they'll be wonderful again tomorrow). But maybe sleep will help.

the clicking of the heels

Can you tell my trip-to-Egypt class paper is done? (Well, not really--I'm going to be fixing the citations after the Boy is done combining all of our group members' parts, and that will be a bitch, but it's not ready for me just yet.) I'm actually still listening to my shuffle, having gone to the store and back for some milk in the interim. And the great music just keeps coming. I got the Good, the Bad & the Queen, the Fratellis, new Modest Mouse, Kaiser Chiefs + Shins...

...and, of course, some New Pornographers. And I don't think Twin Cinema will ever leave my shuffle. It has assuredly wormed its way into my list of all-time best albums. I mean, it's perfect for working out, which is a key criterion for making it onto the shuffle in the first place--practically every song on the album is upbeat, or gets upbeat at some point, or has enough rhythm that I can pound an elliptical throughout and not lose pace. The songs are musically complex, rhythmically fascinating (I can never predict the shifts in "The Jessica Numbers," no matter how many times I've heard it), catchy, gloriously harmonized... I don't know how they'll ever top it, but of course, I desperately hope they will.

There's another album, though, the bulk of which also will be extremely difficult to ever swap out of the shuffle... and I say this because every time I update the shuffle I think about it a moment, and then delete something else instead. It's probably not something anyone would ever suspect, either, so hear me out on its awesomeness: the Dumb and Dumber soundtrack.

Seriously. Take a look:

1. The Ballad Of Peter Pumpkinhead -- Crash Test Dummies
2. New Age Girl -- Deadeye Dick
3. Insomniac -- Echobelly
4. If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself) -- Pete Droge
5. Crash '95 Mix -- The Primitives
6. Whiney Whiney (What Really Drives Me Crazy) -- Willi One Blood
7. Where I Find My Heaven -- Gigolo Aunts
8. Hurdy Gurdy Man -- Butthole Surfers
9. Too Much Of A Good Thing -- The Sons Feat. Bret Reilly
10. The Bear Song -- Green Jelly
11. Take -- The Lupins
12. You Sexy Thing -- Deee-Lite
13. Get Ready -- The Proclaimers

With three exceptions,* this is one of the best movie soundtracks EVER (take that, Zach Braff). But the rest of the songs? So totally fantastic that it more than makes up for these minor failings. I know scarcely anything about most of these bands--did Deadeye Dick do anything else besides New Age Girl? Does it even matter? And you haven't really had a workout till you've pumped your legs in tandem with the triumphant lead guitar chords on Too Much of a Good Thing. It's another perfect workout album, from the glossy pop of Crash to the quirky humor of If You Don't Love Me (I'll Kill Myself), or the rump-shaking Proclaimers' cover of Get Ready. Plus, as an XTC and CTD fan, the opening track makes my little heart burst with glee the moment I hear Brad Roberts's deep "Let's begin!" at the outset. I've said it before and I'll say it again: the 90s were an excellent decade for music, and this 1994 soundtrack has earned its coveted spot in my 240-song shuffle. Considering I have nearly 23 days' worth of music to choose from, that's really saying something.

Anyway. Just listening to music is a pleasure I so rarely allow myself... it feels downright sinful to sit here and play solitaire and listen to R.E.M. and Equation and Gary Jules, Aqualung, Imogen Heap and Cat Power. Cat Power! That's another album I'm loving more and more as I hear it. Plus, there's last Monday's Diesel Sweeties, which has been playing at the back of my thoughts ever since (click to see it full-size):




* The exceptions are track 12 (meh--I'd prefer Groove Is In the Heart, thanks), track 10 (which I honestly don't remember what it even sounds like anymore, so long ago did I relegate it to the bin), and OMG TRACK 6 (which rivals Xmas at Kmart for worst song ever). The beauty of digital music? It's as though these didn't exist and, instead, we have a perfect little 10-song soundtrack instead. Ta da!

heard you sing the sweetest sleep

Man, my iPod shuffle is on a roll--the English Beat ("Save It for Later") then Fountains of Wayne's "Troubled Times" followed by "Angel Won't You Call Me," by my favoritest Decemberists? I was going to take it off now that I'm home, but I can't bring myself to do so. In fact, I might listen to this one again...

...no, too late--it went to "July, July" before I could hit the back button. And I'm totally OKAY with that. Decemberists tomorrow! *dances around apartment*

Hi, reader! I'm full of sugar from FREE CONE DAY OMG. Next to my birfday, this is my favoritest day of the year. As the Boy will attest, I LOVE FREE STUFF, and I LOVE ICE CREAM, so FREE ICE CREAM is just about the best thing ever. Also, FREE CONE DAY is much more fun with people other than... um, not other people. I just realized I've done the last three FREE CONE DAYs solo, and while the principle (FREE ICE CREAM OMG) is still the same, it's a little less ALL CAPS when you're by yourself. Also, you feel a lot more guilty getting back in line for multiple scoops, which might be why I walked away today with three different flavors before we left Navy Pier. I sampled Cinnamon Bun (mmmmm), Chocolate Therapy (something I suspect ericat13 would enjoy), and lemon sorbet (because I'm a wuss and got ice-creamed out by the third round).

Oooh! Now I'm predicting a riot. Go little shuffle, go!

(Yeah, I know I put all this awesome music in my iPod to begin with. But I'm sure there's a loser track or two in there somewhere, but NOT TODAY. Because my iPod knows it's FREE CONE DAY, I think.)

but we still have the radio

the internets are quiet tonight.

It's been a hard day. So much sorrow for some.

Makes my minor sorrows (stupid paper grr arrgh arrgh) seem minimal in comparison. At least I'm alive.

So I got to thinking about things I love about being alive to take my mind off the paper-writing (grr arrgh), and my mind went to Billy Collins, as it sometimes does. Search my archives for "Tintern" to read a previous favorite poem of his, or just sit back and enjoy a poem I was first introduced to on the walls of my bathroom freshman year of college (dry-erase marker, but the custodians were unamused):

I Chop Some Parsley While Listening To Art Blakey’s Version Of “Three Blind Mice”
By Billy Collins

And I start wondering how they came to be blind.
If it was congenital, they could be brothers and sister,
and I think of the poor mother
brooding over her sightless young triplets.

Or was it a common accident, all three caught
in a searing explosion, a firework perhaps?
If not,
if each came to his or her blindness separately,

how did they ever manage to find one another?
Would it not be difficult for a blind mouse
to locate even one fellow mouse with vision
let alone two other blind ones?

And how, in their tiny darkness,
could they possibly have run after a farmer’s wife
or anyone else’s wife for that matter?
Not to mention why.

Just so she could cut off their tails
with a carving knife, is the cynic’s answer,
but the thought of them without eyes
and now without tails to trail through the moist grass

or slip around the corner of a baseboard
has the cynic who always lounges within me
up off his couch and at the window
trying to hide the rising softness that he feels.

By now I am on to dicing an onion
which might account for the wet stinging
in my own eyes, though Freddie Hubbard’s
mournful trumpet on “Blue Moon,”
which happens to be the next cut,
cannot be said to be making matters any better.

come on chemicah-ah-ah-ah-ah-als...

Remember this?

Well, then you need to see this. I was not kidding about Of Montreal being batshit-crazy.

oh, and did I mention that Paul Rudd sang karaoke with them on Saturday night???

I've gotta see these guys live sometime.

um diddle diddle diddle um diddle-i

hey! I'm on YouTube!

Here's my big scene (fast forward to 2:30 if you don't care about seeing my classmate TJ without a shirt on):



And here's my other song:



And here's my cameo in our intermission video:



And here's the big-ass finale:



And here's my favorite number I wasn't in:



Want more? search for "wigmore follies" and go nuts. Also, start favoriting them and writing nice comments, please? thanks!

Now, back to the schoolwork I didn't do all weekend (I was in NYC, not just slacking, I swear)... Thank heavens I managed to get back to Chicago tonight--things could have been worse.

i can do it without you

...except no, no I can't. Help me buy shoes. I had to toss my old blue suede retro Skechers when I came back from Egypt--too much embedded sand, tar and camel hair, alas. I'm leaning towards these (as is the Boy, when queried):



but part of me feels like I should choose something a little more sneaker-y and perhaps slightly more rugged:



Maybe the correct answer is to buy them both and then send one back (or, uh, not... *cough*). Unless the readership weighs in as in favor of one or the other (or neither)...? A girl can, sadly, not live on Fluevogs alone.

repeating your name

So, I'm going to see the Kaiser Chiefs next week.

For free.

RAWK.

I always fill out those little contests that the JamUSA promotional emails have in them ("Win two tickets to see [insert artist here]!"), assuming it's an artist I like. Most of the time I've already purchased tickers to the show, so even if I won, I'm not sure what I'd do with the tickets. I decided against buying the Kaiser Chiefs tix back when they went onsale because I'd just bought a fistful of Decemberists tix and was feeling the pressure in my bank account. I've lately been reconsidering my lack of faith because their new album? SO GOOD. Still hadn't gotten around to taking the plunge, though, when lo and behold--I get an email telling me I won the contest! hooray! So now yours truly (and a +1) is on the Jam Web Promotions guestlist for the show next Friday night at the Vic. RAWK, I repeat.

...though now I'm not going to win anything for, like, another four years. Case in point: I won a CD from WOXY in 2003, and a TV in 1999.

Oh, and a circular saw in 1998. But that was a one-off, I think.

birds, snakes and aeroplanes

Happy Easter, dear reader! It's 32 degrees here and the forecast says hail. Awesome weather for an egg hunt! Sigh.

Not much to report on this end--busier than ever, as deadlines loom--and I'm supposed to be doing laundry right now. But after a much-later-than-anticipated evening out last night (ahh, Wigmore), I'm finding it hard to get inspired to be productive. Meh.

I did want to report that I procured the new Modest Mouse and new Kaiser Chiefs, though I've only had time to listen to the former. It, however, is awesome, and I saw the "Dashboard" video at the gym yesterday--SO great. I'm glad more of my favorite bands are adopting a nautical theme (see also Decemberists, supra). Check it out:



Finally, what the hell, people: why won't DJs play "It's the End of the World as We Know It"? Who doesn't love that song? I've been thwarted at two different bars for two saturdays in a row, and I won't stand for it anymore. Michael, Mike and I will take our beer tab elsewhere. Harrumph.

unlimited repairs

whoa, it's a posting rampage!

But this? is why I LOVE John Vanderslice. The nicest man in indie rock, hands down:

"If you'd like to sing LEAD VOCALS on a song, please find us before the show and we'll bring you onstage. Try to learn two songs in case we don't know your first choice. If you want to PLAY BASS, bring it (don't worry about the amp) and learn either 424 or My Old Flame. It'll be a free for all."

Too bad I'll be in NY when he's at Schuba's on Apr. 13, or I'd be all over "Promising Actress." Sigh.

kitten break!

I'm knee-deep in a Powerpoint for music class tomorrow (anyone want to know about Apple's FairPlay DRM? 'cause I can tell ya), but I just wanted to remind you that I have the CUTEST KITTY IN THE WORLD:




That is all.

with a crown and a sceptre

*dusts off blog*

Heeeeeeeeeeeey, kids! I'm still alive. And I honestly wasn't intending on resuming my blogging habits until after Wigmore Follies this weekend, because there's so much to talk about (Egypt! The impending stresses of the last four weeks of school! The gallons of Aquanet and spray-on white hair color that get dumped on my hair during Wigmore intermission!) that it's kind of overwhelming.

Then I got a TMBG newsletter that said they're going to be performing at THE IRON HORSE (Saturday May 5, two shows), and I had to tell somebody. Like you (and you, and you--but not you, sorry). Because I miss the Iron Horse, and I miss TMBG, and the two together? man! I wish I could be there.

I'm also missing Paul and Storm/Jonathan Coulton AGAIN when they hit Schuba's on May 18 because I'll be in NYC by then. Sigh.

I don't have the new Kaiser Chiefs album, but based on the strength of their single "Ruby," I feel I need to get it, and fast. Same goes for the new Modest Mouse and "Dashboard." Kaiser Chiefs are coming to Chicago on Apr. 20, and I didn't initially purchase tickets to the show (I'm seeing ye olde Decemberists on Apr. 18 and 19), but I'm kind of questioning that decision now. Hmm. While I decide what to do, check out this interview with Decemberists guitarist Chris Funk in the Washingtonian.

Also, the new Shins album? EXCELLENT. Did I talk about that already? I can't even remember. But it was on my iPod shuffle throughout my Egypt travels, so the songs popped up often--and I'm digging it even more now.

And in true Egyptian form, I demand some baksheesh for pointing you in the direction of these shows/artists. I will stand here and point at this hieroglyph until you acknowledge me and give me something. Hello. Hello. Hello. Where are you from? Hello. Good morning. Hello.

More soon, mes cheries. Je t'aime et vous me manquez, for seriousness.

the sin, the sabotage

Did I neglect to mention that the Trip to Egypt Class leaves, um, later today?

For Egypt?

Like, Alexandria, and Cairo, and Luxor and stuff?

Yeah. I'm mostly packed, but there's a lot of last-minute things I need to do (back up my files, print off my interview contacts, etc). So, I'll be tired to travel tomorrow, as usual, but maybe I'll actually sleep on the plane like I'm supposed to.

You probably won't hear much from me, well, for awhile, because it's Wigmore tech week when I get back, soooo... feel free to keep commenting on your fave late-90s bands (Harvey Danger! Eve 6! Chumbawamba! well, maybe that's just Matt) and I promise to post a photo or two when I return.

calling on in transit

The boys from Athens got a nice blurb in today's USA Today. Good to see they've got the same instinct about the state of the music "industry" as I do.

Also interesting--even though I was all pedantic in my last post about some dude getting the lyrics to "Video Bargainville" wrong, I might have no idea what's actually going on in "Radio Free Europe." I was going to title this post "beside yourself if radio's gonna stay," because that's what I always thought Michael was singing. Turns out half the lyrics sites seem to think it's "decide yourself," and a quick listen (for educational purposes!) seems to imply the latter is actually correct, and probably makes more sense. Not that R.E.M. lyrics ever have to make sense.

And I definitely thought it was "calling all river transit" until this very moment, so perhaps I should be more charitable about the mondegreens of others.

just ask for roger

Well, looks like that last post really shook the Primitive Radio Gods fans out of their hiding places. *scoff* Bet you guys liked "One Headlight," too. I loved the Wallflowers' "Sixth Avenue Heartache," but ten years later, I still think "One Headlight" was overplayed. guh.

Anyway, I was poking around Facebook instead of fixing my citations in my comment (yeah, yeah, I KNOW) after a I got a message from an old Fruhead friend of mine who mentioned that she'd listened to Bargainville for the first time in ages a little while ago. So I decided to see what was up in this "Fruheads United" group I joined. And I am astonished--ASTONISHED--that someone posted on the message board inquiring after the existence of the C album. I guess it's like any fandom--it is what you make of it. But, like, though I can kind of understand not owning it (well, not really--it's not the best album by any stretch, but you're calling yourself a Fruhead, right?), how could you not at least KNOW about it? I guess I make a point of knowing a lot about the artists I like (even the ones I'm not stalking traveling to see), so I can't comprehend such ignorance, particularly for THIS band.

Oh, and some dude on a different thread was like, "I have a college friend who says we can pay one price for two!" And I immediately thought, "PAL. you have a college PAL." I might not actively listen to their albums much any more, but the songs? The songs will never leave me.

However, I'm still pissed off I never got my Frumiles-earned copy of Fireside Fruvous. Grrr.

oh the glory that the lord has made

Huh. Popular music was really, really good a decade ago.

I happen to be digging through Wikipedia for some ideas for my Music Class paper, and I just happened to click through the entry for White Town's "Your Woman." The UK #1 song preceding its reign on the charts in late January, 1997? Tori Amos, "Professional Widow." What bumped it from its top spot? Blur, "Beetlebum."

Sigh. I loved, loved, LOVED radio back then. LOVED it. (With the possible exception of Primitive Radio Gods' "Standing Outside a Broken Phonebooth with Money in My Hand." I HATED that one.) The Boy and I will sometimes play "Remember when...?" and trade band names and song titles that captivated us back in the mid-to-late 90s, which was really when I started to come of age as a music aficionado. I remember getting ready for school listening to Cake's "The Distance" and No Doubt's "Just a Girl," or doing trig homework with Ben Folds Five or Radiohead. Or Bush. Or Soul Coughing. Oasis, the Wallflowers, K's Choice, Smashing Pumpkins, the Verve, Sarah McLachlan, Liz Phair, Tonic... yeah. There was a lot of really good stuff on alternative rock radio, and even though I certainly don't lack for new music nowadays, there's just not that collective sense of, "This is what an entire city is listening to, and damnit, it's great."

Then again, maybe I'm waxing poetic too soon: the song that preceeded "Professional Widow" on the UK charts? That would be the Spice Girls' "2 Become 1."

Forget I said anything. Back to the paper.

is this just fantasy?

I smell strongly of baby powder.

No, I'm not suffering from diaper rash--we had our poster shoot for Wigmore Follies tonight and as I play a wizened older professor, I'm supposed to have white hair. Well, baby powder seriously isn't going to cut it for the actual show, mostly because the smell is making me nauseous, but also because my (bright red) hair isn't really looking all that gray. But it sure feels gross. And the smell, oh, the smell... I think I'm going to dream about it tonight. Blecchhh.

Also, I'm glad that the old-age-makeup tricks I learned at theater camp in middle school are still paying off well over a decade later. Of course, back then, we had to force a smile or frown in order to find the wrinkle lines and pencil them in. Now, they're just... there. *sigh*

standing in line to see the show tonight

So, the reason I toggled over to Blogger was to make sure you all knew about the upcoming Get Smart movie, which pleases this little fan to no end. And as a huge proponent of all things Steve Carell, I think he'll be excellent--but Anne Hathaway? Seriously? I don't care if she did flash her boobs in Brokeback--she is not mod enough for 99, no way (plus she has big chicklet teeth). Who would you pick instead?

In other news, I saw a fan-freaking-tastic Red Hot Chili Peppers show last night! Seriously, I don't care how old those guys are getting--they can still bring the rock. (Not The Rock; however in a weird twist of coincidence, he, too, will apparently be in Get Smart.) Flea, John Frusciante, and Chad Smith are all top musicians and Anthony Kiedis is an incredibly entertaining frontman--plus, I personally much prefer their newer catalog to their old stuff, so the fact that it was Californication, By the Way and Stadium Arcadium-heavy was not disappointing in the least. Somewhat disappointing, however, was the performance by opening act Gnarls Barkley, who seriously seemed disengaged from the whole thing. Maybe they've played "Crazy" one too many times? (Maybe they just need some new music, huh, boys? I've heard rumblings about a new album in the works.) Still, a thoroughly entertaining evening on the whole...

...except for chain-smoking dude in front of me, with total disregard of the fact that the venue was NON-SMOKING. This happens a lot at big shows: once the lights go down, the smokers figure they're safe and start lighting up. It pisses me off because I can't say anything to them--they're obviously devoid of any sense of moral propriety or they wouldn't be sneaking cigs in the first place. Plus, this guy was so obnoxiously drunk that he would probably have sneered at me and then blown smoke deliberately in my face for the rest of the night, which I definitely didn't need. No joke, though--he was practically lighting them one off the end of another. And I'm so exhausted today, and it's because I don't react well to secondhand smoke. It's like my body has to fight extra-hard to process that crap out of my system, so the usual amount of sleep just doesn't cut it. I hate smoking, and if you're lighting up in front of me, you can bet I'm judging you for it.

Make all the excuses you want, smokers, but someday you're going to want to quit. Or you'll die. It's that simple.

the light in the tunnel at the end

I had these for supper tonight:




And you know what? It's hard to be tired and cranky when your meal is smiling cheerfully up at you.

this story would break my heart

Zero attention span.

Seriously. This is bad. I'm supposed to be in bed, asleep. So now I'm telling myself to finish my reading and be in bed, asleep, by an hour from now. Instead, I'm wandering the RSS feeds and TWoP forums (never a good sign) and listening to Aimee Mann on repeat instead of just DOING MY DAMN TAX READING.

Remember the vicious cycle from yesterday? Well, I think the reason my tax reading is so daunting is because I'm so tired. But the longer I wait to DO it, the more tired I'm going to be, so I really should've just read it an hour and a half ago when I got off the phone with my mom. (And by the way, Foxy's first 3-month post-cancer checkup shows her to be still cancer-free, but she's lost a half-pound, which is sort of not good, but not symptomatic of anything in particular.)

Anyway, I'm not going to dally here, because it's just another scheme to delay the inevitable (tonight, "the inevitable" happens to be the accrual method of accounting). I've said it every semester thus far, but I MEAN IT THIS TIME: NO MORE 8:45 AM CLASSES. If I could get to bed before 2 am, I might be okay, but I'm apparently unable to manage that. Sigh.

i'm in a crisis

Sigh.

I had a pretty crappy couple of days towards the end of last week, for mostly emotional reasons (namely: I was too damn tired and my emotions were fraying under the strain of exhaustion), so I took a Mental Health Weekend--in other words, I didn't do any work. Friday, I did laundry (*tiny cheers from the crowd*), then went to a bar and played board games with the Boy and friends of ours. Incidentally, I knew I sucked at trivial pursuit (the old, classic version), but it was made abundantly clear to me that the ONLY trivia I remember is that which is music-related, seriously. My narrow-minded prowess is downright laughable--though I now know that Leadville, CO is the US's highest highest point incorporated city (and the reason I'm remembering that is also music-related, as my fru-friends will attest).

ANYway. Saturday was sleeping late, lots of TV, a homecooked meal by the Boy and The Illusionist (which was pretty good, due in no small part to my main man Paul Giamatti). Today, I had tasty dim sum and a Chinese New Year parade (though I eventually got too cold to really enjoy the festivities), plus a viewing of last Thursday's installment of The Office and Wigmore Follies rehearsal this evening.

So, yeah. Awesome. Except now? I'm still at school, I have a LOT of reading to do plus journal-related stuffs, and I'm setting myself up for another exhausting week. This is a vicious cycle.

Anyway, the first round of ExRec '06 has shipped, so if you haven't received yours, let me know. And if, after seeing this (kick-ass) playlist, you want one for yourself, it's not too late.

1. Regina Spektor—Better
2. The Decemberists—O Valencia!
3. Beirut—Scenic World (New Version)
4. Of Montreal—Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse
5. Built to Spill—Liar
6. John Legend—Save Room
7. The Twilight Singers—Forty Dollars
8. Panic! At the Disco—The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage (Tommie Sunshine Brooklyn Fire Remix)
9. Office—Oh My
10. Rainer Maria—Clear and True
11. Ben Kweller—Penny on the Train Track
12. The Long Winters—Fire Island, AK
13. Regina Spektor—Fidelity
14. Imogen Heap—Speeding Cars
15. Winterpills—Found Weekend
16. The Submarines—Brighter Discontent
17. Voxtrot—Trouble
18. Kaiser Chiefs—Ruby
19. The Shins—Phantom Limb
20. Michael Stipe (feat. Chris Martin)—In the Sun
21. Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins—Melt Your Heart

the days, they seem to fall through you

HOLY CRAP.

A friend of mine from high school just got married in Vegas last weekend.

Not five minutes before I heard about it, I was poking around an old Geocities website of mine (animated gifs galore) and happened across a photo of me and her from the end of our freshman year, and got to thinking about what we'd've been doing ten years ago (probably planning a girls-night anti-valentine's cookie party or something)... shoot. I realize we're all certainly old enough to get married, and another of my high school friends has been married for a couple years already, but I didn't even know this friend was dating anybody! I guess I'm kind of out of the loop.

Anyway, it's definitely in character for her, so while the whole thing is somewhat shocking, I'm not exactly surprised. Plus, she looks absolutely lovely and glowing in her photos, and I'm sure she and her new husband will be very, very happy.

But still, Vegas! Wow. Her life is entirely more carefree and thrilling than my paltry mechanics-of-tax-code-section-7872 existence, I assure you.

engagements are booked through the end of the world

So, another law school blogger linked to this awesome video showcasing Steve Burns (formerly of Blue's Clues) and Steven Drozd from the Flaming Lips performing a cute song about Groundhog's Day. She labeled her post as "for the mommies," but I heartily disagree, and not just because I'm a childless fan of smart kids' music (my sixteenth birthday party did, in fact, prominently feature VeggieTales' first Silly Songs video).

It reminded me that after Songs for Dustmites, Steve Burns totally dropped off the map, which is sad because I liked that CD quite a bit and I wanted to hear what else he had to offer. A swift iTunes search confirmed no new albums, and a swift trip to his homepage confirmed that there's a new album "nigh," but not yet here. However, I DID see that his cover of They Might Be Giants' "Dead" is available on iTunes, and I recommend it.

In ever-outward-spiraling efforts to procrastinate, I sampled the rest of the Hello Radio TMBG tribute album and found... not much else to recommend. The Long Winters' "Pet Name" is possibly better than the original, and I snagged "Narrow Your Eyes" for the cool harmonies on the chorus, and "It's Not My Birthday" because I just love that song, and the cover features an accordion. But the rest? Meh. Several sound like dirges (including, disappointingly, the Wrens' "They'll Need a Crane," and OK Go's dismal rendition of "Letterbox"), others are just ill-conceived ("Boat of Car," "She's an Angel"--and seriously, that is MY SONG, and I'm so bummed at how uninspiring the cover is), and still others I just reject on principle (I've never liked "Road Movie to Berlin"--sorry, Frank Black. I hear your album Honeycomb is highly reccommended, though).

Bottom line: TMBG fans, get the Steve Burns and Long Winters tracks, leave the rest. If you've got the originals, you're not missing anything.

Anyway, that was an unusually digressive trip round the internets. And as I'm leading discussion in Trip to Egypt Class tomorrow and not yet done with the reading, I've lots to do this evening. But I'm in a cheerier mood, thanks to the groundhog song. hee.

will you feel better?

It's official: ExRec '06 is done but for the pressing.

Tracklist to follow shortly; the recipients deserve to be surprised. And if you've never been on the Exam Recovery list before, hit me up in the comments and I'll get you hooked up. (For the uninitiated--are there any?--this is my eighth(!) annual year-end best-of mix cd. I work hard to make it awesome, which is why it takes so long, sometimes.)

And yes, it's damn belated. But it makes up for it in musical goodness, I promise.

you're gonna hate yourself in the morning

I have no idea how it got to be after midnight and I haven't done a lick of reading since class ended at 6. GAH.

...well, okay, I do have some inkling: I went to the gym, and then the Boy came over and helped me finish Superbowl/indian food leftovers, then we watched Family Guy from a week ago, then I read about eight thousand law school listserv emails about the untimely resignation of our student bar association president (I'm mildly interested, but more because it's something out of the ordinary than because it affects me in any way whatsoever) and futzed around the internet, as I'm wont to do.

So, now, I'm going to go to bed late again, and I'm going to be tired tomorrow, and that wasn't the plan.

And I shouldn't be dallying on the blog, but I wanted to mention that Mom and I saw a pretty awesome Eddie from Ohio concert on Saturday night--they were at the Black Orchid, a kind of upscale/art deco/yuppie venue within walking distance of my apartment (normally... when it's not, like, -10 degrees outside. In fact, as I type this, I'm wearing a pair of emo-rockstar fingerless knit gloves I got for free at the Death Cab concert on my birthday in '05. They shield my poor skin from my drafty apartment and my trendy metal computer case, and for that I forgive Q101 for sponsoring such a fashion faux).

I don't think I've seen an EFO show outside of FRFF since Jack Quinn's in March '04, and while sitting through "Great Day" without actual blue sky and green grass (...well, sitting through "Great Day" at ALL, but that's neither here nor there) seemed a little odd, it was a fantastic set. Highlights for me were "And the Rain Crashed Down," "There's a Carp in the Tub" (heee robbie kid song), and their cover of "We Belong Together," in honor of their friends Eric Lowen and Dan Navarro. I was reminded suddenly of FRFF '05 when it seemed like Dan was everywhere, and always wearing the same shirt--a shirt for HIS BAND. Hilarious. This year is my fam's ninth FRFF, incidentally... kind of hard to believe. Hopefully I can escape NYC for a (long?) weekend so I won't miss seeing my extended folk family (and the artists, I suppose).

...but anyway. I also will highly recommend the Goose Island Sunday afternoon brew tour--as I said to Bruce in the comments below, $5 gets you a tour, six beer tastes and a pint glass! I think having a pint before the tour was probably a bad idea... but seeing as how Chicago totally sputtered out in the Superbowl anyway, napping through a good portion of the second quarter didn't really make much of a difference.

Mom also mentioned that she reads ye olde blogge, so hi, mom! I'm doing all my work and not messing around at all! That stuff up top about procrastinating online--lies, all of it, I swear... *laughs nervously and changes subject*

blood still warm on the ground

Have we all seen the Decemberists' new O Valencia video?

It's a little reminiscent of the video for 16 Military Wives, though the plot's a bit harder to follow. Still, fun to watch. Plus, I haven't seen Chris Funk since his shred-a-palooza on the Colbert Report.

More soon, as I'm in the middle of a totally fun weekend (next stop: the Goose Island brewery!)--but in the midst of all this Super Bowl nonsense, don't forget about the REAL contest this afternoon: Puppy Bowl III!

we'll bill this city

Wait, so, to publicize release of the Vista OS, Microsoft has hired... Starship? On a FLATBED TRUCK???

Way to keep your finger on the pulse, Gates. I bet all Zunes ship with "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" pre-installed, huh? Sheesh.

i have hardly grown up since you met me

HOLY SH--wow, that was close.

So, like, for ages and ages, a long long time, THIS blog has been at the top of my Blogger options. Now, however, "Music, Copyright and Digital Technology" is before mine in my blog listing (there are only three blogs--it's not like it's overwhelming), so I, of course, blindly click on the first blog and start typing.

And thank GOD I decide to use my "shenanigans" label for, like, the second time, and yet it doesn't pop up automatically after I start typing. So I click the "show all" option and the only tags are "Apple," "iTunes," "DRM"... and I think, huh. Have I even USED those tags?

THEN I realize, OH. THIS IS NOT MY PERSONAL BLOG.

ABORT ABORT ABORT

I could save myself a lot of trouble if I just hosted my own damn blog on kkdotcom. Sigh. I was going to talk about shopping for swimsuits in January, but now I'm just thankful I DIDN'T talk about shopping for swimsuits in january on my CLASS BLOG.

Off for Indian food, which should make it all better, I hope. yikes.

all about chemistry

It's official. Music class = the best law school class ever.

Why? Because my reading for tomorrow (portions of Rockonomics) contains an extended quote from (Semisonic drummer) Jake Slichter's masterpiece, So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star.

Coincidentally, I read that book nearly two years ago, while visiting the law school for Admitted Students Weekend. It's a phenomenal piece of work about the music industry and you should all read it yourselves.

And *I* should finish my reading for tomorrow. But seriously? I LOVE THIS CLASS. It's like getting class credit for doing the stuff I do normally.

I'm totally pulling one over on the administration. (Shhh, don't tell.)

edited to add: Well, whaddya know. Apparently music class will be blogging through Blogger, too. So, I'm making my profile private for the time being--no sense tempting fate. I've said nothing but good things about the class here, but I'd just as soon not encourage clickthroughs from bored classmates.

haven't thought of you lately at all

So, what would you rather do tonight:

Watch the State of the Union, on EVERY major channel at 9pm/8 CST...

...or watch Veronica Mars's first new episode in two months on the CW?

Unless there's a murder mystery on the State of the Union, I'm sticking with option (b), please.

(er, that is, after I spend four hours taping students negotiating. THEN Veronica.) reprieve! I can go home now--and do laundry! hooray!

come on chemicals

This video is completely insane. Like, batshit-crazy. And you must take three and a half minutes out of your busy weekend to watch it:



I have a lot of Of Montreal songs, but I've never taken that step forward in purchasing an album. Hissing Fauna Are You The Destroyer is a must-get, no question--comes out next Tuesday.

edited to add: Apparently this was directed by the Brothers Chaps! That actually makes a lot of sense. Heh.

we're on the edge of a knife

Blogging on a Friday night--how rockstar of me.

But anyway--our music class prof told us to check out the Digital Music Weblog, which I'm now subscribed to and find really interesting. So, if you're into that sort of thing (iPhones and Baidu.com and ragging on the RIAA--what's not to like?), check it out. Or, at least, read this posting about an independent artist who managed to sell enough shares (or "parts") of his record to fans on Sellaband to make the $50,000 necessary to fund his album. Awesome! And a truly auspicious harbinger of success with a new business model in the music industry.

Oh, and grades came out today, a day or two later than they were supposed to (the 1Ls were in a FUROR--still are in a furor, actually, if the action on our listserv is any indication). I wasn't exactly on the edge of my seat, but I do get a little rush of adrenaline when I log on to check grades each semester. Keeps the heart pumping. All I can say is apparently I'm getting the hang of law school now, which is good. I wouldn't relive last semester for ANYthing, but all's well that ends well, I suppose.

Now the Boy and I are going to watch the Office from yesterday--well, we will, when Monk and Psych stop recording. (Yes, I still use a VCR--but I also get free cable from my building management, so the TiFaux will have to wait.)

it's not unusual to be loved by anyone

Is there a reason that iTunes would send me an "alert" containing news about a Decemberists live EP... and Tom Jones's From the Vaults??? Huh. We appear to have a fraught relationship, iTunes and I.

I killed a silverfish the size of a small car in my bathroom this morning. I still have the heebie jeebies. Add to that the ENORMOUS cockroach that disruped my Music, Copyright & Digital Technology seminar (hereinafter, "music class") and I've had a very buggy day. The cockroach gushed when it was killed. Ickkkkk.

Music class is great, though--I love that I could participate by being able to explain what the Grey Album was and who did it. We also got to listen to snippets of both George Clinton's "Get Off Your Ass and Jam" and N.W.A.'s "100 Miles and Running," for academic comparison purposes (of course) regarding a recent sampling decision by the Sixth Circuit (in effect, "If you sample, get a license").

I've gotta give props to my good ol' college senior advisor, Professor Dunne, because I read enough cases and learned enough about copyright law four years ago to be able to hold my own against those who took copyright law in law school. Campbell v. Acuff-Rose? Newton v. Diamond? That George Harrison lawsuit w/ the Chiffons? Yeah, we were all over it. Anyway, it's shaping up to be a great class, cockroaches notwithstanding.

I've got miles of trusts & estates reading to do before I sleep, so off I go. Even though I've now got "Shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and jam!" running a pleasant little loop in my head...

makes me kind of nervous to say so

YAY three-day weekend! And possible snowstorm on Sunday night/Monday! If I were in grade school, I'd be furious to have a snow day on a holiday--but I'm not, and I love winter weather, and we just haven't had enough of it this year. (Sorry, Bruce!)

Anyway. I'm working on ExRec '06 (*tiny cheers from the crowd*) and accidentally deleted the iTunes playlist with all of my ideas, lovingly compiled over the last 4-5 months. This is the second playlist I've accidentally deleted in as many days, and I'm REALLY annoyed at iTunes for not having an "undo" function to fix such errors. I guess I'm so used to being able to undo anything--cutting and/or pasting, moving files, transferring things to the trash--that this new development came as total shock/horror. I acquire a LOT of new music on a weekly basis (courtesy of the music blogs, mostly), and many of the tracks on this lost playlist were one-off songs that I couldn't recall offhand. GRRR. I've managed to cobble together a new playlist and am working on whittling it down/fixing the track listing, but seriously? iTunes needs to get its act together. If there's a way to make it ask you twice ("Are you sure you want to delete this playlist? Circle one: Yes, No, HELL NO, AND BACK AWAY SLOWLY FROM THAT DELETE KEY"), I'd love to hear it, because, arrgh.

swear to shake it up

So, I'm spamming my blog this evening--think of it as penance for taking an extended hiatus over the holidays. Those of you who don't use a blog aggregator to read these entries might notice a rather unending list of Panic! At the Disco songs to the left, courtesy of last.fm. I kind of feel silly, because their lyrics are SO earnest and almost laughably meta at points--but holy crap, it's catchy stuff. And it's proof positive that a good alternative radio station works wonders for album sales: if I'd listened to Trunger's recommendation a year ago, I'd've bought the album back then--but with no music to go on, I forgot about them. And I was feeling severely heat-sick during their set at Lollapalooza (plus the burlesque girls onstage with them were a little off-putting), so I missed them in favor of the AT&T Blue Room o' Air Conditioning.

But when I was home for vacation, friend Dara recommended that I check out a new alternative radio station out of Cincinnati, 94.9, that was playing GOOD songs, like what we used to hear on the radio in high school, not that new-metal crap that alternative stations morphed into in the early 00's. And it did play good songs (Pearl Jam, Bush, old Beck, even stuff like the Smiths and the Cure)--but it was also playing the heck out of "Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off" (did I mention that this band is overly earnest?). And I was intrigued, and the chorus got lodged in my head, and I received $50 in iTunes bucks from the 'rents for Christmas... and now? I'm so all over it. A little behind the curve, and possibly a little sheepish (the median age at their concerts must be, like, 16), but all over it.

Relatedly, I've long thought that the first version of a song that you hear is the version you like the best (assuming you like the song at all). For instance, I'm way more partial to Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah" than Jeff Buckley's (and Leonard Cohen's, though that possibly goes without saying) because I heard it first, and I think his voice just suits the song so well (and is a little less over the top, blasphemous as that might seem to some). So it makes sense that I think I prefer the Snakes on a Plane remix of "The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage" (I downloaded it from some blog or another; I swear I do not own the SOaP soundtrack (though I do still like the Cobra Starship theme song)) because I heard it mere seconds prior to the album version. Heh.

Whoo. Anyway. I'll try to rebuild my indie cred tomorrow; for now, I'm happy with my carnival emo-pop. Let's get these teen hearts beating faster, faster...

adrenaline pulls us near

YAY! Good news on a Monday: R.E.M.'s being inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame! Hooray! Other inductees: Patti Smith, Van Halen, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, and the Ronettes. I don't really know what the induction gets you, other than absolutely no indie cred whatsoever (hopefully some cash?), but it's damn cool nonetheless. Supposedly they're recording a follow-up to Around the Sun right now? Maybe I ought to renew my fan club membership in case they tour--it's worth the $10 fee a hundred times over for second-row seats, no question. The fan club CD this year was the songs they played at the 40 Watt club in Atlanta w/ Bill Berry--verrrry excited to listen to that.

Oh, and you get another YouTube video to commemorate the occasion. I was going to post Bad Day, because I love how earnest and news-anchorly Michael looks, but there's too much going on in it and it doesn't translate well to pixely streaming video. So, you get this one instead:



well, I lied--you get two videos, because I have a very fond memory of making my friends rent a tape of R.E.M. videos in high school and then watching this one over and over again until we had the dance down. Heh.

throw your love around

Happy 2007!

It's January 5 and it's 60 degrees here in warm & cheerful Centerville, OH. (At least the "warm" part is apt, but "cheerful"? Try me again when I've got something to show for my paper revisions.) Woo freaking hoo. El Nino + global warming = teh suck, for serious. I want WINTER weather, damnit--or if it's going to be WARM, at least be SUNNY. *stomps foot*

Anyhoo. I had a wonderful Christmas (would you believe... the Get Smart DVD Box Set was under the tree?!) and a KICK-ASS New Year's in New Haven--more Catchphrase than anyone thought humanly possible, peppered with spontaneous renditions of "Dick in a Box"--yeah, good times. I won (!) a game of Poker, helped teach 6 people Euchre, and floundered at both Apples to Apples and Categories (underwear is SO sports equipment. sheesh). We had 16 former classmates show up for the NYE festivities, which was a truly amazing turnout. Oh, and if Stephen Kellogg & the Sixers come to your town on their spring tour (as they're likely to do--they'll be in Chicago twice in the next four months), you TOTALLY need to check them out. SUCH good music, and so very all-around entertaining. (Also, though it helps to look up directions to the venue before you leave, it's definitely not required--especially if you want an accidental tour of the sketchy parts of Bridgeport, CT.)

I could go on, but I'd rather share this gem I came across from Filter's celebration of Michael Stipe's 47th birthday yesterday (it was also the Boy's birthday yesterday! but he hasn't danced with the Muppets, so he doesn't get a YouTube link):



Does Peter Buck ever smile? Seriously. Watch the original Shiny Happy People vid again, too--SO AWFUL, and yet so awesome. Christmas also brought When the Light Is Mine, the DVD comp that coincides with R.E.M.'s IRS-label retrospective, and I'm eager to watch it...

...which is why I need to get going on these paper revisions. Sigh.