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Mar. 19th, 2010

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Ciego smells this way on purpose.

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I was feeling melancholy this morning but now I'm good.

Mar. 18th, 2010

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I want to finish these four remaining abstracts, put on my jacket and headphones, and walk home in the sunshine while listening to Van Morrison. Will there ever come a day when I put on "Bright Side of the Road" and don't smile?

Pod.

Random iPod 20.  There are 1,100 songs on my iPod.  My computer houses approximately 5,000 tunes.  Thus, no chance of Britney Spears or Rick Astley popping up on this mix (I have one each of their songs on my home computer, and they were both on mixed cds given to me by other people). 


01.  Ryan Adams & The Cardinals,  "Let It Ride"
02.  New Order,  "Ceremony"
03.  The Wailin' Jennys, "Something to Hold Onto"
04.  PJ Harvey,  "C'mon Billy"
05.  Kool & The Gang,  "Get Down On It"
06.  The Be Good Tanyas,  "House of the Rising Sun"
07.  Curtis Mayfield,  "Move On Up"
08.  Dustin O'Halloran,  "Opus 23"
09.  Tori Amos,  "Playboy Mommy"
10.  Glen Hansard,  "Lies"
11.  Talking Heads,  "The Big Country"
12.  R.E.M.,  "Orange Crush"
13.  The Police,  "Bombs Away"
14.  Spoon,  "Don't Make Me a Target"
15.  Talking Heads,  "Warning Sign"
16.  Van Morrison,  "Bright Side of the Road"
17.  Ryan Adams & The Cardinals,  "Mockingbirdsing"
18.  R.E.M.,  "I Remember California"
19.  The Goo Goo Dolls,  "Black Balloon"
20.  Interpol,  "PDA"

Oct. 11th, 2009

(no subject)

"God bless Animal Collective, but they really have, in their own strange way, made indie rock a much more conservative place than it should be. If you can create intellectual distance from your work, then critics will feel clever for getting it and give you good marks; if you create music that fucked-up 13-year-old girls might enjoy, then critics will feel like you're trying too hard and not give you good marks. The Pitchfork phenomenon in particular is bizarre because it seems to have altered the fundamental way in which people get into music. I really do think that people should probably lose their virginity before they start writing reviews for Pitchfork. You should keep things in order in your life before you become an éminence grise—you should do some drugs and fall in love, and then start judging people. Because then you'd actually know something about life, as opposed to just being afraid of it and, you know, thinking Menomena are important."


--Torquil Campbell, in a 2007 interview with the Onion A.V. Club

Jul. 24th, 2009

Dept. of "I shouldn't have asked."

I was in Metro Center on Wednesday, on the escalator descending from street level to the Red Line platform, when I smelled this overwhelming stench of burning tires.  I asked a Metro operator standing nearby if he knew what the smell was.  He said, "Brake pads.  They don't fit quite right." 

Jul. 8th, 2009

Great Expectations

Pip, to his friend Herbert:

"I know that Fortune alone has raised me, that is being very lucky.  And yet, when I think of Estella--then, my dear Herbert, I cannot tell you how dependent and uncertain I feel.  I may still say that on the constancy of one person (naming no person) all my expectations depend.  And at the best, how indefinite and unsatisfactory, only to know so vaguely what they are!"

Jul. 6th, 2009

arms that are braceleted and white and bare

  And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?                   
  And how should I presume?


On July 4th I visited Beth at her apartment.  We bought pineapples and teriyaki sauce and made some chicken kabobs to take over to a barbecue held at a neighbor's place.  There was a party of 30-40 people, mostly from our church and a few other young churches in the city.  Being as I don't know too many people yet, and I'm generally not a big fan of parties (unless it's in the home of someone I know really well, like a family member) I sort of sat idly and chatted a little, having a few conversations here and there.

I overheard snippets of conversations, covering the Indigo Girls, foreign policy, recipes for corn on the cob, parking in DC, bocci ball. etc.  This type of interaction does not suit me at all, the pressure to talk about something interesting, to engage, to join in.  Sometimes I come home from those evenings with a kind of energy high.  Most times, however, I drink a beer and wait for an appropriate time to leave because I'm not good at small talk with people I don't really know. 

"Ponzi."

'Twas strange the dream I had the other night.  Apparently, Bernie and Ruth Madoff had an empty house in Washington, D.C.  And my boss was given a key to the place to hold onto, so everyone in my office decided to go over there and crash.  We weren't technically supposed to be there, but the mansion was still fully staffed, kind of like Camp David.  Anyway my office-mates and I are swimming in the pool, eating fish sticks, wandering around.  There was even a bathroom suite-- three abutting rooms where you could choose between a loo designed by a college freshman, one outfitted nicely by Ikea, and another with marble countertops for the optimal in comfort.

I have to run, because I have an attache case with very important files for a court case that could end with me going to jail.  I hate to tear myself away from the party.  I walk out to my truck, a huge silver Ford F-150, and see my grandmother standing in the parking lot.  Going over to her, I say, "Granny!  You would not BELIEVE whose house I was just in!"  She says, "Whose?"  Grinning, barely able to contain myself, I say, "One word, Granny: ponzi."  Suddenly a police officer materializes and says he overheard my conversation, and that he must go arrest the people who are trespassing on the Madoffs' property.

I'm crestfallen because I've just sic'ed law enforcement on my co-workers.  I quickly say goodbye to Granny and flee the scene.  But not before grabbing an ice cream cone.  I stand in line waiting to buy some ice cream and the people in line around me give me "Judas Iscariot" stares.  I wake up.
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Jun. 24th, 2009

Common People

She came from Greece, she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College
That's where I caught her eye
She told me that her Dad was loaded
I said "In that case I'll have rum and coca-cola"
She said "fine"
And then in 30 seconds time she said
"I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do
I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you"
Well what else could I do?
I said "I'll see what I can do"
I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why
but I had to start it somewhere
so it started there
I said "pretend you've got no money"
but she just laughed
and said "oh you're so funny"
I said "Yeah
Well I don't see anyone else smiling in here
Are you sure
you want to live like common people
you want to see whatever common people see
you want to sleep with common people
you want to sleep with common people like me?"
But she didn't understand
she just smiled and held my hand
Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you'll never get it right
'cos when you're laid in bed at night
watching roaches climb the wall
if you called your dad he could stop it all
yeah
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do whatever common people do
You'll never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
and then dance and drink and screw
'cos there's nothing else to do
Sing along with the common people
Sing along and it might just get you through
Laugh along with the common people
Laugh along although they're laughing at you
and the stupid things that you do
because you think that poor is cool
Like a dog lying in a corner
they will bite and never warn you
Look out
they'll tear your insides out
'cos everybody hates a tourist
especially one who thinks
it's all such a laugh
yeah and the chip stain's grease
will come out in the bath
You will never understand
how it feels to live your life
with no meaning or control
and with nowhere else to go
You are amazed that they exist
and they burn so bright
while you can only wonder why
Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you'll never get it right
'cos when you're laid in bed at night
watching roaches climb the wall
if you called your dad he could stop it all
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do whatever common people do
You'll never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
and dance and drink and screw
'cos there's nothing else to do
I want to live with common people like you....
.


Love this song.

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