Saturday, July 12, 2003

Playlist Sat. 7/12 6-10 am.
Beehive and the Barracudas--Times are changing
Russen Disko comp.: 3D--In a hip club
Jonathan Fire Eater--No love like that
Zumpano--Orange Air
Sufjan Stevens--They also mourn who don't wear black...
Cinerama--Dura, rapida y hermosa
Junior Senior--Shake me baby
Strangeloves--Night time
Flamin' groovies--shake some action (I love this song so much it hurts)
Echo and the Bunnyman--ocean rain
TV on the radio--blind
Mogwai--Ratts of the capital
[[VVRRSSNN]]--gauntlet of the dying soul
Brokeback--returns to orange grove
Calla--hover over nowhere
Animal Collective--Hey light
Rapider than Horsepower--lick me on my face, it feels funny
Swell--black milk
Matt Suggs--soon the moon will glow
Forget Cassettes--Accismus (don't like this AT ALL)
Gogogo airheart--C8/..."Programme"
Push Button Objects-- Washington Avenue
Dj Serpent One--Terrain (Last Movement) (I praise the day a little birdy named Emerson told me about the Beautiful Noise Comp.)
Diego Cortez--whitewash
Esmerine--There were no footprints in the dust behind them
Sylvain Chavreau--Un Autre Decembre
Dennis Driscoll--true true
Cuarteto Patria--Carnaval
Bebeto--Princesa Negra de Angola
Joey Gilmore--Somebody done took my baby and gone (from the Miami Sound Comp.--get it! it's awesome).
Iron and Wine--Carissa's Wired
Quasi--Sea shanty (this one goes out to Mame 'cause we listened to this album soo many times at The Frontier; good times)
Hrvatski--insect digestion melancholy
Love and Rockets--The light
The Stone Roses--I wanna be adored (i know it's probably overplayed, but I haven't heard it in a while)
Bardo pond--the high frequency
Fuxa--subway short/free your soul/ first abductions
OMD--so in love (yep, that's right; Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark!)
Hefner--christian girls
the mojo men--she's my baby
gorky's zygotic mynci--fresher than the sweetness in water
the sonics--psycho
ultralights--the orbit lounge
Neu!--see land

Overall, I'm pleased, despite the fact that it was probably my worst show of announcing. I've never sounded more clueless and monotone.

Friday, July 11, 2003

Yesterday it became apparent to me that I needed to buy older albums from Cyndi Lauper and Rod Stewart. Before you say anything, how could you not like a guy who covers a Tom Waits song?

Dream 7/9/03:
I see an image of TCBY yogurt in a waffle cone and it's spinning. It's an advertisement for a new treat called "spins." Then an ad for Burger King appears and they're using the same name for their food. Hamburgers are spinning in the air into their buns while Dolly Parton is singing and spinning. I wake up.

I wonder if Hardee's is going to experience a backlash from their new honesty campaign? I've heard several people think that they're admitting to having bad hamburgers. They are, but in the past. I think it's a good approach.

The only thing that's subduing John Ellis Bush Bush's wrath:
The mostly Democrat FL Supreme Court

Hey BG, this is what you've talked about in the past

I found this book on my chair at work given to me by my boss (as a joke): Short Rage: An autobiographical look at heightism in america. Dr. Deborah Burris examines the injustices and prejudices against the disadvantaged of the world, dedicating two chapters on the advantages and disadvantages of being short. I don't want to seem callous to her plight; I do realize there are disadvantages to being nearly 5ft, and she probably has experienced discrimination. Sorry Dr. Burris, but being short is not exactly what I would call a target of unending discrimination on par with being poor, a minority, disabled/handicapped, etc. Not to mention, she writes like a child. Here's a sample:
Another advantage is being able to fit into small places comfortably. I can actually lie straight across three airline seats and get in a great nap on the plane. Of course it has to be an empty flight for there to be enough room to take up three seats. I can also sit comfortably in the back seat of small cars. I always have enough leg room. I have plenty of room on a king-sized bed. I can lie whatever direction I want. A small blanket covers my whole body, and I can buy inexpensive clothes in the children's department.

Today at 11:30 am, like a fever dream, we'll be off for Mississippi. 15 strong in a 56 passenger luxury bus complete with bar and blackjack tables. I'm not exactly sure what to think of all this, but know for a fact that by the time the bus rolls in to Philadelphia, MS 8 hours later there will be a number of my travel mates who I will no longer be speaking to. I'm a grump on long road trips. I get over it quickly.

Wish me luck at the nickel slots.

Thursday, July 10, 2003

I love rock and roll
I have a vague recollection of putting on a Journey record shortly before the night took a turn for the drunker. I spent the night at RRC's since she was in no shape to drive me home and Big Gray could think of about 159 things he'd rather be doing than taxi-ing me around at 1 am. I had little sense left in me, but still enough to know that the sweet sweet sounds of Steve Perry were key.

I try to be a lady. I really do love purses and shoes. But really all I want to wear are faded, strategically torn blue jeans, pink and black checkerboard slide-on vans, and my Guns and Roses Appetite for Destruction World Tour 1988 shirt that I long ago cut the collar out of.

My love for rock and roll boarders on indiscriminate. Number one band? Rolling Stones. Hands down. But I can be seen from time to time pumping my fists in the air while listening to Heaven by Warrant. (it's fucking good, ok?) and I need not speak of my love for Air Supply and Journey, two bands that stretch the boundaries of rock and roll but still manage to stay on my list....extraordinarily close to the top.

Ladies of the 80's: Big hair. Are you with me? Here was the routine- I'd take my partially dried, too long for my own good bangs and spray them with hairspray. Then I'd take the curling iron set to high, start 1/18 of a mm from my scalp and run that thing all the way to the fried tips of my hair before rolling it back again. I knew by the sizzle and the smell if it was going to be a good or bad day for my bangs. Once it was rolled came the tease. And tease and tease and tease and tease. I just knew if I kept teasing I could get my hair as high as the guys in Poison. Once the bangs got too long to curl back came the wave. This involved holding your hair straight up and spraying the hell out of the bottom couple of inches, taking a hairdryer to it and then letting the unsprayed portion fall over the front of your face. Very elaborate. I wasn't allowed to wear make-up, but she never said anything about hair. Jesus, I wish she would have.

I can still sing every word to 18 and Life.

Big Gray is sick in bed and I'm just happy to not have to spend the day alone. I also hijacked RRC's car and dog and plan to spend the rest of my morning reading The Witch of Blackbird Pond. It's also the first day this week (ok in two weeks) that I'm up before noon.

A little story about my morning
Two girls driving down the road at 7:45 in the morning, squinting at the sun. One turns to the other and says: You know what would be awesome? If Duncan Donuts gave out Goody powder.

I wholeheartedly agreed.

Wednesday, July 09, 2003

Super Sleuth
Big Gray, like many men his age, is in love with electronics. Electronic music, toys, stereos, HDTV, video games, you name it and he wants to talk about it. Because of this we have a very elaborate stereo system in our living room that is hooked up to the TV. It includes, but is not limited to, a box shaped speaker that stands about 14 inches high and about the same wide: a sub woofer. To me, it's an eye sore thinly veiled as a plant stand. To Big Gray it's a necessary component to proper movie watching or video game playing.

For the past two days the sub woofer has been periodically making a low, unexplained humming noise. This morning I discovered the cause.

My only electronic vice (don't be dirty!) is my cell phone. I love it. I take it with me everywhere. I lovingly let people make calls on it when they don't have one of their own. It's all mine.

My cell phone has been resting silently atop one of the modular cubes we keep our records in since Sunday night. The cube rests stop the sub woofer. This morning when my phone rang the sub woofer sounded as if there were a jet plane taking off inside of it. The whole house was shaking in dub narcotic sound. As soon as I picked up the phone off the speaker, it stopped.

BG and I might have joined together in holy matrimony, but our electronics apparently should go their seperate ways.

There's a lot lacking in my alacrity.
I kind of just wanted to say that. Seriously, I am rather sluggish today. Summer school is kicking my ass. Get up at 6am and go till 8pm. Then read till midnight+. Now that I have Turner Classic Movies I want to watch t.v. all day!

I found this to be interesting.

Infants, no need to apply
As you might have guessed, I always take notice of humorous, eccentric signs, billboards and the like. Today I saw an advertisement for a job within the multi-cultural department, or something like that. Qualifications: must know a language. How could someone not know A language? He/she is reading the sign isn't he? Am I missing something here?

Tuesday, July 08, 2003

I'm reading this book Media Spectacles by Douglas Kellner. Each chapter is about--you guessed it--various media spectacles in recent years (I betcha' can't tell that O.J. has his own chapter). Well, truth be told, it's really well written. I find myself in agreement with most of what he has to say. Here's a sampling from the chapter Presidential Politics, the movie:
"Yet the media can destroy what they build up, and a coming Bushgate could reverse the fortunes of the Bush dynasty with a series of crime dramas, political corruption and conspiracy narratives, and family melodramas that would rival any comparative saga in U.S. literature or history. I would indeed recommend to a future Theodore Dreiser or Oliver Stone a trilogy of books or films, starting with Prescott, which would detail the stunning story of Bush family patriarch Prescott Bush, who was, in effect, Adolf Hitler's financial agent....The second part of the trilogy would tell the remarkable saga of George (Herbert Walker Bush), detailing an astonishing life of intrigue in economic and political scandals, including a stint as director of the CIA, which involved interesting but largely unknown relations with scoundrels such as Saddam Hussein and Manual Noriega. George would also include engaging spy thriller episodes such as the October Surprise, the Iran-Contra scandal, and the support of Islamic fundamentalist groups in Afghanistan, which later helped to for the al-Qaeda network and the Taliban regime...The W. story would recount how, after years of frat-boy ribaldry at Yale, George W. Bush got his father to pull strings so that he would not have to go to Vietnam, and then got into the Texas National Guard Air Reserves. During his lost years in the 1970's, George W. reportedly went AWOL for a year form military duty, was a heavy alcohol and drug abuser, and ne'er do well, who finally decided to put together an oil company when he was already well into his thirties...."

I wish I could write it all.

My Brita water tastes like ass. I don't think it should, hence the whole reason behind getting a Brita pitcher.

Well, I was supposed to spend my evening with RRC but it was foiled. Now I go in search of something else to do that doesn't require a car or spending any money. I suspect it will involve the 10 or so fake birds and three cans of spray paint in the laundry room. Maybe some old dolls. I'll let you know...

I read what my Ms Comrade wrote about everyone around us having bad luck and being miserable and it's so true. What happens when the people you rely on to bring you out of the blues are totally unequipped to do so?

I spent my holiday weekend in bed or on the couch, periodically crying and drinking. RRC went home and got the nostalgia blues. Phoebe called this morning around 9:30 and declared that any job that she has to get wasted to even show up for is probably not worth and it she'd had enough. Ta-ta Taco Stand. My best friend's mom is getting divorced. Again.

Someone tell me some good news. Anyone.
What's that? A trip to a casino? Well, tell me more!

Friday at noon we leave for our much anticipated casino trip to Mississippi. I just spoke with gorjus and he's planning to meet us there too! RRC, PEM and I will head up the pack by all being miserable until that 2nd or 3rd martini hits and then it's fun times and forget about it for 2 1/2 whole days!

Gorjus and I spent some time on the phone this evening trying to figure out exactly what makes the waterpark there the "first of it's kind in America". It's called "Backsplash" and as far as we could ascertain it simply involves riding down, you guessed it, backwards. I don't plan to visit the waterpark. Public pools sort of freak me out, but I can handle it. A giant, throbbing pit of over-chlorinated, moaning water rides is a little too much for me. Why is the water there always milky? And in a still hotel pool you can usually escape the stray hair floating towards you, but plummetting 60 feet in a jet of water it's harder to avoid. No thank you, sir.

Nope, it's all nickel slots and margaritas for this little princess this weekend.

So what's going on on American Juniors?

Back in force
Thanks to Mary Leigh for the compliment (I think) and the wake up call to get off my butt and write something. After a long night of beer drinking with Ms. Comrade, watching bad reality TV and eating cashews, I feel like my chakras are alligned or whatever chakras do.

Not working has driven me to a life of gluttony and sloth. I'm trying to round out all the deadly sins before the end of summer. I took a 3 hour nap today after the physically taxing event of eating a sandwich and watching Glitter for the 3rd time in a week. I did manage to polish off the remaining thank you notes from our December wedding (what would Miss Manners say?!) and therefore thought I deserved to lie on the couch and snooze the afternoon away.

I went through my collection of books, looking for something to re-read and found a copy of something that was passed between me and an ex-boyfriend while we lived for 9 months apart my first year in college. We eventually reunited, only to face ruin and heartache at the hand of multiple other interested parties. On the front inside cover of this book were scratchings of devotion and obvious longing. I was tempted to just rip the cover clean off but couldn't bear to do it. I, instead, just replaced it back on the bookshelf along with the hundreds of other titles to be forgotten about like it was once before. I have a copy of a much footnoted "Breakfast of Champions" somewhere that we sent back and forth that I know better than to ever open again. Some things are just better left in the past.

For some reason, despite my efforts, the plant beside my computer refuses to live.

Grace Poole
I've had enough. For the past half hour, I've listened to my neighbor throw a temper-tantrum. He keeps saying stuff like "you fuckin' piece of shit. why are you doing this to me? why can't i do what I want?" I think he was locked in his room. I've made the decision to talk to my landlord tomorrow, and if there are any other problems later, I'm calling the police. Thank god for thin walls, right?

Monday, July 07, 2003

That's one more for the team!
In today's NY Times:

"Long Island Congressman Quits G.O.P., Citing 'Extremists'

By JAMES DAO (NYT) 1183 words
Late Edition - Final , Section 1 , Page 25 , Column 2
ABSTRACT - Long Island Republican Repr Michael P Forbes announces that he is becoming Democrat because his own party has been captured by 'extremists'; accuses Republican leadership of being 'tone deaf' to concerns of average Americans; photo (M) Representative Michael P. Forbes, a mercurial Republican who has frequently butted heads with House Republican leaders, announced today that he was becoming a Democrat because his own party had been captured by ''extremists.''

He accused the Republican leadership of being ''tone deaf'' to the concerns of average Americans on issues from health care to education to the environment. "

Unfortunately, I only have a subscription on-line; so, i couldn't get the whole article.

Sunday, July 06, 2003

Out out brief candle
I spent my weekend my weekend at home, in Auburn. The most I can say was that it was uneventful (I'm not complaining). The drive down was nothing unique. The same billboard for a bbq restaurant advertising "The Best Butts in Alabama" did not fail to disgust me, nor was the drive through Dothan any less boring. I did hear the new Avril--oh wait--the new Liz Phair single. Um, are the two any different? C'mon Liz. We know you can rock. As I drove into town, I noticed that two Auburn landmarks were not there: the "Free James Brown" (posted a sign outside for years that said the aforementioned words) house, a staple in the Auburn tour of homes. It gave an otherwise conservative town a little character; also, the Zippy Mart I frequented as a child is no longer there. Oh yeah, my home is undergoing many changes, as well--BG, one wall of your room is a fabulous blue. I know these changes are much needed, but there's still something comforting about going home to find everything as it was before--gotta love the 70's decor.
I spent the fourth with my mother's friends. At one point, we were chatting with an older couple, which we did not know, about Iraq, etc., and the husband said the U.S. should kill 'em all and put the fear of God in them. Yep. I honestly did not feel like getting into a debate on foreign policy and religion at a friendly get-together; so, I kept my mouth shut.
The city fireworks display was canceled due to rain, yet we did not know. After waiting with others for 15 minutes or so, my stepbrother, Max, said “do we even know if we should be here?” Good question. It was fine by me that it was canceled. Ever since I can remember, I've been deathly afraid of fireworks, but over the years I've learned to cope somewhat. Perfectly good Fourths at Calloway Gardens were ruined at night by the fireworks display. My parents never caught on that I hated these things, despite the fact that I spent the whole show crying with my face buried in a blanket. Earplugs never helped.
So...Saturday I went to the wedding of an old neighbor/ high school/ marching band friend. 'Tis the season, apparently. It was Catholic, and, thankfully, not long. The priest was a cut-up! He said something like "May you make it to heaven 20 min. before the devil finds out you're dead." Haw! The other comic relief for the afternoon was when the "unity candle" wouldn't light (never did). Oops, they're not married! I figured I'd see more high school cronies, but it was a small wedding. Oh well, no gossip.
The wedding, in part, inspired my dream last night about marching band. This is just one among many marching band dreams. It does not matter what marching band--I've marched with the MSU band. This time I was with my Alma matter. We were on the drill field. I brought out Lucas' old bass drum to march with I guess. The percussion section thought my gesture was strange. I was also carrying two trumpets and a bottle of Kahlua. Kahlua was dripping down my mouth. I remember leaving the drum and my trumpet case on the field after practice. I woke up in a panic.
A few hours later…I’m in FL. Back to work!

An addendum for BG
I've thought of more movies that were based on songs:
Can't Buy Me Love
Hard Day's Night
Pink Panther

Why is it that the Beatles have a monopoly in this area?

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