Tuesday, August 28, 2007

tell him not to come back again

I watched all 3 Bourne movies (for the first time) in less than 24 hours. Now I want to watch a fourth! Right NOW! *stamps foot*

As I was watching the first Bourne, I made some comment to the Boy about how they really found a very Euro-looking woman to play Marie, and kept thinking how much she looked like Lola from Run Lola Run. Then, as the second movie started, it occured to me that Franka Potente is a freaking actress, and that it very well may be and probably is her, and in fact, I was right. Sheesh. The Boy hasn't seen Lola, nor has he seen Memento, which would probably shock and disappoint Marj to no end.

In other news, I have not given up hope on creating a summer mix, and as I have over an hour and a half of iTunes playlist with possible suggestions for said mix, I think I can make this happen. Maybe tomorrow, while doing laundry. I'm finally listening to the new TMBG album, and "Take Out the Trash" (which was totally kick-ass live) suddenly reminded me of Fountains of Wayne's "Strapped for Cash," if only because they rhyme. And maybe they'll go next to each other on the mix. Or maybe they won't. But I'm listening to music again, which is a good start, since that random Mogwai stuff was up on my Last.fm listing for, like, two months. Sorry. I've been listening to a lot of music on my shuffle (like new Wilco and new White Stripes), and that doesn't register with iTunes.

Also, I'm thrilled to be able to read all the wizard-y stuff online now, and thanks for those of you who have already pointed me in the direction of such things. There's a rather lively HP discussion going on at That Other Blog, incredibly spoilery, of course, so if you're looking to air your theories and/or grievances, or just want to read Matt's lengthy take on how HP7 should have ended, check it out.

Anyway, I just spent $90 on a used textbook (blerg--but it was still $50 less than retail) and am feeling a little overwhelmed by all that needs to be done at the moment, so I'm going to retreat. I need more hours in my day. Can someone get to work on making that happen? As well as that fourth Bourne film? Thanks much.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

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.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

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!

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

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.

Friday, August 10, 2007

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.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

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.