Andrew Bird has to be one of my favorite musicians right now. Eloquent, with whistling and violin, he's got both catchy and dark music that can be mildly subversive at times. I'm a big fan of Amchair Apocrypha and The Mysterious Production of Eggs. Andrew Bird also looks like if Luke Wilson was cast as Tom Joad in a film version of The Grapes of Wrath.
Functioning iPod clickwheel from 2004
I've been thinking a little, off and on, about getting a new iPod. Do I wait until the iPhone is available in Verizon's network, or do I splurge on a new iTouch? I keep telling myself to wait though, because they're probably coming out with something newer, sleeker, smarter in a matter of weeks. And my current 5-year-old iPod still functions properly. The one I've had since freshman year of college. The one without a color screen, even. The battery doesn't need frequent charging, the clickwheel may be a little slow but is still responsive and it still has more than enough gigabytes to store all my music. Drive that baby into the ground, and impress the geniuses at the Apple store that I've managed to keep that baby purring for over 5 years when I go to trade it in.
With a last name like McIntosh, I'd hope I could keep an Apple product running for the next 96 years.
I can remember being 3 or 4, becoming completely obsessed with Yellow Submarine. My dad, ever the musical maverick had a newfangled CD player and a few of these round mirrored thingies that i was NOT allowed to touch. I ditched my Baby Beluga tape soon after, and fell irreversibly in love with John Lennon. I taped pictures of him alongside my Elvis photo on my door (Elvis and I share the same birthday, so I think I thought I was supposed to like him) and behaved like a crazed teenager in 1967 whenever I Wanna Hold Your Hand came on. Maybe my career as a medium started early?
One of my favorite memories telling someone, I think it may have been my preschool supervisor, with total sincerity that John Lennon couldn't have been an organ donor "because he needs his heart." Somehow my mother had explained the potentially a complicated trifecta death, reincarnation and heart transplants all using my personal hero as the example.
I couldn't marry John Lennon because he was dead. It meant his heart stopped beating and his brain stopped thinking and he was buried in the ground. Apparently this was upsetting news to me, which led to the reincarnation conversation: He's not coming back? Nope, but sometimes people can be reborn. Woah, woah, what do you MEAN? My mom was pregnant at the time, and I probably half expected a wee John to come battling out of her womb.
We were watching a movie at the time, probably a Lifetime made for TV movie or some other drivel that daytime programmers filled their timeslots with. Anyway, this girl was on a waiting list for a heart transplant and I was probably all, where do you even GET a human heart? And my mom was all, from someone who died.
Total panic ensues. My mother assured me that John had kept his heart, with all the plans in the world to revisit this mortal coil just like Jesus was going to and stuff. Apparently my relief was enough to go babbling to my teacher the next day, explaining that don't worry, John Lennon will be back.
Girlfriend is still waiting, my friends. Patiently.
I suppose it depends on what you mean "what they say" about me. Literally? My shoes right now are dirty Sperry topsiders, brown and light-ish blue ("heron," I believe, is what Zappo's called it). I think if you were a person judging me on my LITERAL FOOTWEAR PREFERENCE, a person might think There's a lady with traditional tastes, with narrow feet and a penchant for not skidding on wet surfaces. Also does not like to wear socks. Which wouldn't be far from the truth. I HATE slipping on wet floors.
If I happened upon a more inductive thinker, they might note that the laces are untied: Girlfriend is laaaazy or Girlfriend does not like touching shoelaces because they are really dirty things. They might also note that there is a smear on the top of the left one and think Is that butter? She probably bakes awesome cookies (true). Or, perhaps they'd try to figure out what it was I wonder if that shoe will ever be implicated in a presidential impeachment hearing? Did Monica wear Sperrys?
What would really show true depth of thought, and a higher logical consciousness, is the person who wonders If she goes through the trouble to wear shoes that will not skid on wet surfaces, why run the risk of tripping on the laces?
This is a really tough one. It took me like, 3 weeks to come up with the ones that cause me the most pai-ay-ayy-ne
Jack and Diane by John Mellencamp
It was hard to choose just one John Mellencamp song. I truly hate his music. I chose this particular ditty because of the line "sucking on chili dogs" because, um, that is not, NOT, a charming vision of America's Heartland.
Mary Jane's Last Dance by Tom Petty
I also had to really THINK about this one, because I have a very love-hate relationship, mostly hate though, with Tom Petty. I just cannot stand how he stretches out the word "pain" in the song. Gack.
Hotel California by The Eagles
Just a really lame song. Right up there with Kokomo by the Beach Boys. "You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave!" Come on, Don Henley.
B and I recently watched the suicide documentary The Bridge. A guy set up cameras at the bottom of the Golden Gate Bridge to film the 25 people who hopped over the side in 2004. We want to move to the Bay Area, and figured this was a way to Get to Know the Culture.
People kill themselves
Jumping off the Golden Gate
Suicide, splish splash
I was going to choose Harry Potter, then I saw the default heading was "... brings me back" and in no way am I "brought back" to HP. You can't be brought back to the present, and Harry Potter inspires me on a daily basis. WWHPD?
1. Third Grade, Mrs. Ryan's class. She brought Roald Dahl into my life, igniting a lifelong love for his books. I would regularly bust a gut over the misspelled words, and I remember crowing with my pals and, later, my parents over the HILARITY of Childchewer and Bloodbottler mowing human beans. I had to have read that book 10 times before I left elementary school.
2. AP Brit Lit, Ms Brooks: While the rest of my Smart Kid Class were slaving through Virginia Woolf and Chaucer and Shakespeare, I had the bright idea to pick a children's author with a wide catalog. I wrote my paper on Roald Dahl and the influence his childhood had on his children's fiction. If I had to relive high school over again, knowing I'd be starting off with World History and ending with that class, it might make it almost worth it.
3. Beauty, Terror and the Grotesque, Dr. McGuire: Because I am totally unoriginal, I wrote my senior thesis for my English major on the thematic prevalence of terror and the grotesque in his fiction. I wrote it over a period of 17 hours and was pretty thrilled just to be done. Not nearly as good a time as my historiography theis, but writing long papers on things I really love is always a good way to spend 2 days and a night.
Kristen Surette
I feel like she and i never ever run out of things to talk about. I'd probably have to have an iPhone with AIM or something on it though, cause we never see each other in person, so the probability of us getting stuck in an elevator is comparatively low. I talk to Kristen via email for 8 hours every day, and things like Paula Abdul's hair, people from high school, wedding dresses, baseball players, and different kinds of makeup are evergreen topics that need periodic review. I also think she would never freak out about being stuck in an elevator, because she knows there is More to Life.
I told her that I was putting her down as my Elevator Companion and this is what she said: "I like that we can go over things, or we can Think of Things. You know like "let's think of people who wouldn't be pretty if they didn't wake up at 430 to do their hair and make up"
We are totally on the same wavelegnth. GFFL.
Thai food. I love peanuts, garlic, gluten, chicken, vegtables, rice, soy sauce, egg noodles, rice paper, vermicelli, oyster sauce, satay. Maybe I'd make that Thai and Vietnamese, that would definitely be varied enough to keep me going for a year.
Let's pretend I was suddenly famous for being good at reading and people paid cash money to watch me flip through Vanity Fair for 2 hours, with running commentary on the ads and celebrity photos.
Fruit Snacks
I just really like these. Mostly just the lemon ones, and the orange ones make me want to puke so I would make a minion pick them out. Unless they had a Costco membership and could get JUST the lemon ones wholesale, I mean, you know, in an ideal world. Also in an ideal world there would be pickles.
Kashi Go Lean Crunch
Girlfriend needs regularity.
Make-up professional
I am INEPT when it comes to putting on eyeliner. Y'all want me to look good, right?
A posse
Because what could make me look cooler? I suppose the answer to that is, well, anything. I wear a blazer, a collared shirt and jeans every day. If I had my own group of rough ridin' tough guys with chains and diamond-studded teeth, people would probably holla RESPECK at me and I'd ever so subtly incline my chin in an acknowledging way, and they would whisper "Now, I wonder what her secret to success is?" And I would wink, and respond cheekily "Hooked on Phonics worked for me."
Are zombies like vampires, where if they eat you or whatever it is they do, they turn you into a zombie too?
If that's the case, we should just let them eat us and become a zombie population. We shouldn't be culturally chauvinistic just because we don't want them around. I thought we gave up xenophobia a long time ago. This is America, for Pete's sake!
Granted, I don't know what it's like to be a zombie, but I can't imagine it's a much worse life than for non-zombies. I guess the brains-supply problem would ultimately arrive, then we'd probably find a little stash of NZs (non-zombies) living in Vermont or something, round them up, breed them for their gray matter and avoid a Children of Men situation. Unless Clive Owen was one of them, then I'd intentionally enter into a Children of Men situation so I could chase him.
Where do I sign up?
Ok, so I'm walking across Surface St on my way to the Aquarium, for the Booze "Harbor" Cruise we went on as seniors. I strolled through Quincy Market to stop by Nine West to pick up the Kelley green suede heels to match my cute J Crew dress I bought for the Emmanuel College Senior Prom Ball Banquet thing. Where will be carpeting. And flip flops in my purse. And Brian's catlike reflexes to catch me if and when I tip over.
Anyway, crossing the street, I was trapped behind slow walkers. Slow walkers, with stick-straight hair, eyeshadow drifting into their hairlines, and lips so glossy crows were circling overhead. Walking slowly in their not-quite-yet-broken-in pointy toed, 3 1/2 inch heels. We head into the cobblestoned plaza of the Marriott Long Wharf, and one girl goes down. Her Best Friend tried to catch her. She goes down too. The two other girls, attempting to Save their Lives, squat down as decently as their Ace bandage skirts allow, and in the effort to rescue them, join the pile. One finally Gets It, and scrambles up, Choos in hand. The other girls lay there, appalled that she'd take off her shoes on pavement.
Like I said, practicality is always sexy.
According to this article, the flying car is going to be a Boston-based invention. It would certainly be useful, hovering above snowbanks and zipping over school buses and double-parked delivery vans.
I think I would probably just work on my psychic skills until I could channel the spirit of Ernie Boch, Sr. I think just about everyone in Massachusetts is familiar with the Ernie Boch Empire, and if that old goon and his slightly lamer son were to attempt to sell this car to us, we'd "come on down." I would then smash windshields to represent the "smashing deals" a la Boch Senior, and then have Junior's rock band (Erinie and the Automatics) play the theme song from the Jetsons (apparently he went to Berklee, who knew?). New Englanders would eat that up, and if it didn't work, maybe we could get Mike Lowell up in there too, driving a "Red Sox Red" flying car.
I like the idea of a flying car, but can you imagine the issue that road rage would present? Or airborne accidents? Debris and body parts raining over the expressway? New Englanders are notorious for their white-knuckle driving, and as a pedestrian, I'm not sure I want death to come at me from street level OR from the sky...jaywalking is hazardous enough, and helmets mess up my hair.
Move to San Francisco
Because it's late March, and I am still wearing thermal underwear. Because I LIKE it when people are nice to me when ordering a bagel. Because I want to study the history of the American West, and you can't do that in the East, except at Yale, and who wants to live in New Haven? I also really like red wine, artichoke hearts, sourdough bread and walking uphill.
Recieve a PhD
Because I want to check off the Dr. box on credit card applications and magazine subscriptions. I also like public speaking, and teaching college is a good way to do that for a living. I figure that'll also keep me in school for a VERY long time, which is exactly where I want to be.
Learn to sew
H&M always has these cute, low-key wrap dresses that I always see and think "y'know, I could probably make that." Plus, someone is bound to compliment me on it, and then I can say, thanks, I made it myself. I feel like that would be pretty rewarding.
Drive cross country
I'd love to be free of the guilt that this activity would pile on me. All those carbon emissions. Buuut, I figure Brian will probably have to do it someday for touring purposes, and I've never been to the Badlands, and Brian also has green-guilt, so if there's anyone who'd do this the low-impact way AND invite me along, it's him.
Have a BFF
These things are hard to find. Yikes.
I wonder what percentage of people chose books by David Sedaris. WE KNOW HE'S FUNNY PEOPLE. I think he's a person beyond recommendation- on, you know, I've heard that Jack Kerouac guy is pretty great. That being said, listening to him read the essays on CD is even funnier than the book itself.
But he is not who I chose!
Rarely have I seen a wittier female writer. A collection of non-fiction essays about how working and dating and renting apartments and going home and revisiting old friendships and ALL THAT STUFF that sucks when you're in your 20s? Well, it sucks for everyone. Definitely a book for girls, I Was Told There'd Be Cake has a few of those moments where you want to email the author "and in chapter 2, where you bake the ogre cookie to look like your boss? OMG ME TOO!"
Reading this book gave me a bit of perspective on a number of new experiences i was having in life- working full time for a total MONSTER, going to bridal showers CONSTANTLY, wanting to tell friends HOW I REALLY FEEL about their downright AWFUL boyfriends, and helped me roll my eyes and chuckle smugly about these experiences. Not all of us want to see your new Mikasa vase, doll. We don't all want to pile our hands for a group engagement ring picture, especially because NOT ALL OF US HAVE ONE. And your boyfriend? Really do not like that guy.
I watched this movie recently, and I can't think of anything funnier right now. Wes Anderson runs a little hot and cold for me, but man, i laugh at this one more and more every time i see it.
I saved Latin, what did you ever do?
Been thinking more about this one. So, I googled "as seen on TV" and apparently there's an official website for items tagged with that phrase (www.asseenontv.com). There are more ads for hair removal devices than just about anything else. I love the names of some of these things too- the image that "Slap Chop" conjures has NOTHING to do with vegetables.
I always think it's funny when I know someone who has a Bowflex, because those are only available through TV offers, right? And those are EXPENSIVE. And Chuck Norris talked them into it. Because he is so attractive and irresistible and mighty.
The other thing that I thought of that everyone has that originally had an infomercial is the Foreman Grill. Talk about living up to the hype, Lauen, Justine and I used one daily when we lived together, and Brian uses his giant one pretty often.
And do any of the ladies out there remember the Topsy Tail? It made some sort of weird ponytail twist thing that supposedly made a gal look JUST LIKE A PRINCESS! Seen here: http://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/topsy_tail.html My hair was always too curly and thick for one of those to work, but man was that a LOOK for a while.
I haven't had TV channels since August, and before that had a DVR which eliminated my exposure to commercials entirely. Still, SHAMWOW and Snuggies happen to be SO ubiquitous that I know what they are. If SHAMWOW is so awesome, it should be sold everywhere. and Snuggies ARE sold everywhere, in the form of bathrobes.
I've never bought anything from TV except vacuum bags that shrink stuff down so you can have more space. I think i got them at Target, though, so i don't think it really counts. They work really well and keep me from having to mothball my wool stuff over the summer. Mothballs might be the smell of death, I can't STAND it.
I do kind of want those toe things, YogaToes. They spread the toes apart so that your arches don't fall. They're $50, although I just looked on Amazon, and found knockoffs for $10. My feet cramp like a MOTHER during any and all yoga poses, and fallen arches terrify me. Plus, they'd be great toe spacers for pedicures, so BONUS.
I kind of miss the days when infomercials were relegated to late night TV only. I've had many insomina-induced fantasies about a romantic roast chicken dinner with Ron Popiel.
Beets. Bears. Battlestar Galactica.
Because there isn't a company called build-a-shark. I would just build a bear that could kill a shark. Maybe Bear Scissorhands or Poison Bear.
Beats Tootsie by a nose.
Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me.
Aren't you?
Benjamin Braddock is one of the most endearing characters in any movie I've ever seen. He's got this false confidence, this then again, maybe not-ness that would infuriate me in real life. Also, Mr. Feeny from Boy Meets World is his dad in that movie, and is walking around in high waisted swim trunks and an open Hawaiian shirt the entire movie. Mike Nichols, you genius.
Mozzarella
I particularly hate it when Italians, or people with Italian pretensions call it MOOTZARELL. Fuck that. No one else calls croissants QUASON, so make like the French and be phonetic.
Boyfriend
I wish this word didn't exist. Or at least I was able to refer to Brian as my companion without people thinking he was my seeing eye dog or something. It's not like there are any alternatives- guyfriend makes him sound like a guy who is a friend; lover sounds too dirty to my east coast ears; babydaddy would just be a lie.
Random
Entirely overused, and doesn't have meaning. "Um like, he was this random sketchy guy at the bar." "And she RANDOMLY shows up pregnant!"
Both heard at work. Barf.
Moist
I don't hate this word, but i know everyone else does. MOIST MOIST MOIST.
I am really good at repairing vacuum cleaners. I fixed the belt on one at home when I sucked up a shoelace and it tangled the wheelie thing and it smelled like burning. I went to the hardware store all by myself, and told the guy what my idiot little sister did while she was cleaning (ha! i am also good at lying!) and he showed me where the belts were and i got the right one, bought it, unscrewed the Eureka ALL BY MYSELF and INSTALLED the belt, then get this: I PUT IT ALL BACK TOGETHER WITH NO SCREWS LEFT OVER.
Then, maybe 2 months ago, my own personal vacuum stopped sucking things up, even like, pencil sharpener shavings (oopsie). I took the ENTIRE vacuum apart, pulled out 5 years worth of hair, dust, flaked skin and whatever else I'm inclined to spill, and spread it all thinly across the carpet. Then, I put the vacuum back together, again, with no screws left over, then sucked up all the crap I pulled out of the hose and wheelie thing, and success! The suction on my Eureka Boss Pro 2004 edition was restored to it's original black hole vortex levels.
So when it comes to fixing vacuums, I am the expert. I am also good at untying knots, especially in necklace chains.
Ride from his house to my house, sometime in late May, 2004.
If I'd known we weren't going to be best friends, or even speaking, 3 months from that moment, I'd have told him what I really thought about him.
Is it just me or did most people not have fun at their high school prom? Or in high school in general?
I am so sick of the cold weather. Artichoke hearts come in EVERYTHING there. Berkeley is a fantastic school. Two Buck Chuck is actually $2 there. Everyone is nicer. Tennessee Valley National Park. Arnold Schwarzenegger would finally be the boss of me. The Bean Bag cafe. Recycle bins on every street corner. Of course, my friends, family and CVS are all here. But I'm willing to sacrifice all that for day trips to wine country and cheap happy hour bars, at least for a little while
There's way more in here, like a spare set of clothes (just in case), sunglasses, reading glasses, 2 wallets and about 10 pens (also, just in case).
Checkbook
Because SOMEONE always moves it then I LOSE it because it's not where i LEFT it. Rent on Monday!
This week's New Yorker
Because I simply need to know more about the India-Pakistan scuffle over Kashmir. And lesbians who live in vans (Van Dykes, no joke). And I need to look smart on the train. Oh-ho-ho those witty cartoonists!
Chewed gum
Gross, I have no idea. I haven't used this bag since I left my last job. I gave myself a dislocated jaw from chewing so much freaking gum.
I hated On the Road until listened to Matt Dillon read it.
She Don't Use Jelly by The Flaming Lips
I watched the documentary on the Flaming Lips, Fearless Freaks, and heard it for the first time in AGES and couldn't get it out of my head for weeks. VAAAAAAAAAAASELINE.
Even if you don't know anything about the Flaming Lips, it was an outstanding documentary that I think everyone should watch. Wayne Coyne has the greatest gray hair of ALL TIME. Better than Jon Stewart, better than George Clooney. Voice of authority here, people.
I used to be able to listen to this song on a permanent loop. Now I can only take about an hour and a half of Ursh and Luda. It still might be my favorite song. It reminds me of the summer before college, Kristen Surette and the 2004 prom- a potent mixture of anticipation, hilarity and nausea.
I used to think this song was obnoxious, but soon learned that it's only that way because Ryan Adams is King Obnoxor. Once he became endearing to me, I soon grew to like the song. Plus now he and Mandy Moore are engaged, and that is freaking AWESOME. Another secret fantasy COME TRUE.
Some days, I can actually feel my face looking like my father. It's ghostly, even though he's still, you know, alive.
It's no big deal, his sisters look just like him (and me) so it's not like I'm running around looking like a GUY or anything, we both just have big heads, pointy noses, and the same frown, a look we shoot many unsuspecting but deserving victims daily.
When it comes to my personality, I am exactly like both my parents. All those clashing little traits that they throw at each other are the ones I got. I fight with myself about how insensitive I am, and then I tell myself not to be so sensitive.
Open the heart, lift the collarbone, aaaaand mountain pose!
Who knew that my shining athletic achievement would be to develop the ability to touch the back of my neck with my toes?
Last week, Brian and I went to the only Jelly Belly Bean factory in the world. As if there weren't already enough reasons to move to Northern California.
I'm not much of an emotional eater, but the last week has been pretty hectic with the traveling, and I'll say that having 10 pounds of rejected Jelly Belly beans has brought me back to the 7th grade, a comfortable, secure, braces-free world with all the gum and candy a girl could want.
