Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Yes, I'm sometimes angry, and, no, it's no good, but I'm 29-years old and today is Sunday, so I'm going to pack for L.A. then take a street car to a bus to a shuttle to an island in the Bay whereupon sometime after sunset my favorite band will play, perhaps in the rain, but a little rain be damned, today anyhow, by the throng, by the day, by me. Each and every thing could be, has been, and inevitably occasionally will be considerably worse. I always realize that I've been holding my breath only after I let it go when the drums come back in and everything feels suddenly wonderfully enormous.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
i started with the trailer for young guns, a move you'll never make me regret.
from there, i made the perhaps too-obvious transition to bon jovi videos.
then i blacked out with the sort of exquisite existential rage uniquely inspired by working in a structure that has remained bureaucratically unevolved since the middle ages and somehow ended up at the trailer for the 1992 film "from the imagination of stephen king," the lawnmower man.
you guys, 9 year old me - the tremendous ninny - was genuinely horrified by this movie. 9 year old me also got kicked in the face by a 6th grade boy once and used to time herself saying the ABCs backwards, so i guess it stands to reason that 1992 was not my coolest year.
27 probably will be though. which gives me one more week to get all these bon jovi videos and heartfelt expressions of love and friendship out of the way.
i love you and count you among my daily blessings. asshole.
Monday, August 30, 2010
despite the terror and sadness at the news that something as fucking important and sexual as the oxford english dictionary may wholly surrender its material existence, depriving future generations of introverted 8 year olds the pleasure of penciling smug x's next to words they'll never learn to gracefully use, i am no less tickled rotten and pink (gross!) that - with almost 27 full human years under my stylish and casually tossed on belt - i've managed to befriend the types of girls that would care deeply about news such as this, and conflate it with the paean to rock and roll that will forever and always remind me of 6th grade nerd camp, where i first learned that if you cannot in the first five minutes spot the awkward kid, chances are high that the awkward kid at nerd camp may very well be YOU. this is not entirely your fault; you did break your nose two days before leaving and your parents did encourage you to look up words on your own and use them all in a sentence you kept going for the rest of your life. no one wants to make lanyards with the girl whose nose bleeds sporadically and has a troubling fixation with run-on sentences. don't worry. you later went on to graduate school at the university of chicago, where you were able to spot no fewer than 35 dysfunctionally awkward kids in the first 3 minutes of orientation and go on to meet some of the most unreasonably awesome and whipshittinsmart women you never thought you'd cry in front of, and then you did one night under a table in the library and you know what? they never judged.
the print dictionary may be dead or dying, but bfff's are here to stay.
Friday, August 27, 2010
(un?)related post script: we eat our ice creams before our meat sandwich dinners in this household.