I have an awful confession. Well, some of you may know it already. I might be the last person or the first person you would expect this from. But when it came out, I bought the Ashlee Simpson Autobiography album. And I listened to it. A lot. I still own it.
And you know what, sometimes I love to listen to female pop singers on repeat. Not even the good ones like Gwen Stefani, I mean Hilary Duff or even....Avril Lavigne. Or the millions of other girls who dress trendy and sing trendy and have trendy music videos and sing about love and sunshine. I kind of love it. I eat it up. That's right, I EAT IT UP. Even though I've been taught to despise it, you take your despising and shove it. I don't care if their lyrics aren't clever, I don't care if their voice was digitally altered to actually sound good, I don't care if it seems that they shouldn't be singing about love because we can't in much honesty believe they know what the word means I'm still EATING IT UP.
I'm not sure how to tell you why I love a little cheep poppy music every once in a while.
But there you have it.
14 July 2008
oh ho ho ho ho loves the elderly*
I saw a potato bug on the sidewalk when I was walking home lastnight.
(after being kicked out of the editing lab at 23h00).
This week the hours from my two jobs have been warring against each other and I feel confused in crossfire. I might not be so confused if maybe my brain would work concretely. But you might've noticed it doesn't.
Sometimes I want to wrap up in my mind and room and quietude since the famous restaurant job is dipping more and more into circus dramatics (yesterday the Dreamer punched the Onion Cutter in the arm and according to the Dreamer the Onion Cutter took a whack at him with a cookie sheet but there are no witnesses to this). I did pull a fancy move today, though, when I almost dropped a large pan of macaroni and cheese but instead smoothly saved it all as I spun to my knees. They (mainly the co-worker who says I have lying eyes) told me I won the Olympics with that one.
I've loved my bicycles rides to and from, though. and I loved the potato bug and the quails I see running about everywhere and the large snail I saw tonight. I decided I needed to see some friendly faces and I went down through the secret garden to the historical apartment of a friend where people were meeting to draw cartoons and eat cake (cartoons? It was interesting). There are snails everywhere in his secret garden, you have to take care not to step on them and I took care to take a few pictures.
*excerpts from a Felice Brothers song
(after being kicked out of the editing lab at 23h00).
This week the hours from my two jobs have been warring against each other and I feel confused in crossfire. I might not be so confused if maybe my brain would work concretely. But you might've noticed it doesn't.
Sometimes I want to wrap up in my mind and room and quietude since the famous restaurant job is dipping more and more into circus dramatics (yesterday the Dreamer punched the Onion Cutter in the arm and according to the Dreamer the Onion Cutter took a whack at him with a cookie sheet but there are no witnesses to this). I did pull a fancy move today, though, when I almost dropped a large pan of macaroni and cheese but instead smoothly saved it all as I spun to my knees. They (mainly the co-worker who says I have lying eyes) told me I won the Olympics with that one.
I've loved my bicycles rides to and from, though. and I loved the potato bug and the quails I see running about everywhere and the large snail I saw tonight. I decided I needed to see some friendly faces and I went down through the secret garden to the historical apartment of a friend where people were meeting to draw cartoons and eat cake (cartoons? It was interesting). There are snails everywhere in his secret garden, you have to take care not to step on them and I took care to take a few pictures.
*excerpts from a Felice Brothers song
10 July 2008
how do you say spread sheet in french?
You can uncook that goose because the Onion Cutter reminded us of why we love him today. I wish I didn't feel morally wrong about uploading the pictures of him on to The Internet.
I was doing my usual cooking cooking in the back of the kitchen when my Boss says, "Oh my-You've gotta come see this!"
The Onion Cutter was walking into work wearing a floppy wig that somehow perfectly matched his hair color. He sauntered about the place delighting us all with his antics, "Hey baby, how about a date?!" "Ok darling!."
I was doing my usual cooking cooking in the back of the kitchen when my Boss says, "Oh my-You've gotta come see this!"
The Onion Cutter was walking into work wearing a floppy wig that somehow perfectly matched his hair color. He sauntered about the place delighting us all with his antics, "Hey baby, how about a date?!" "Ok darling!."
09 July 2008
my goose, you've cooked it all right.
I couldn't wait another second to tell you what went on in the world today.
The Onion Cutter has us all at our last wits. He continues to ask for his job back. The problem is he still has a job but he still can't come to grasps with the idea that his job description has changed. He's not allowed to work with sharp objects. Technically, he is no longer the onion cutter. It's like he's still got a bit of trauma. For weeks he's been walking around telling us that he fired people (all of the people who enforce the rules he doesn't like) and yesterday he tried to convince me that he fired my boss and that he was my new boss. "I kick him out." I asked him if he had picked my Boss up by the shirt collar and kicked him out (I pantomimed as well) but he said no. This does not work for me as I only bow to violent coups.
The worst part is, someone let him stay up watching the food network last night.
He's been walking around all day today telling us all "you're my people" and calling us FL but he won't tell us what that means. He started hanging up paper towel signs all over the kitchen with little notes about his FL restaurant. I don't know, you tell me. Florida? Food Lover? Fat Larry's?
I should be appeased and not so perturbed because he told me I am his favorite chef. But all of these lay-offs the Onion Cutter keeps proclaiming can get worrisome.
The Onion Cutter has us all at our last wits. He continues to ask for his job back. The problem is he still has a job but he still can't come to grasps with the idea that his job description has changed. He's not allowed to work with sharp objects. Technically, he is no longer the onion cutter. It's like he's still got a bit of trauma. For weeks he's been walking around telling us that he fired people (all of the people who enforce the rules he doesn't like) and yesterday he tried to convince me that he fired my boss and that he was my new boss. "I kick him out." I asked him if he had picked my Boss up by the shirt collar and kicked him out (I pantomimed as well) but he said no. This does not work for me as I only bow to violent coups.
The worst part is, someone let him stay up watching the food network last night.
He's been walking around all day today telling us all "you're my people" and calling us FL but he won't tell us what that means. He started hanging up paper towel signs all over the kitchen with little notes about his FL restaurant. I don't know, you tell me. Florida? Food Lover? Fat Larry's?
I should be appeased and not so perturbed because he told me I am his favorite chef. But all of these lay-offs the Onion Cutter keeps proclaiming can get worrisome.
08 July 2008
frip frip frip words that just go all over
I went to a little venue tonight. I've only gone to a few shows there, but it's one of my favorite places to go. I love live music, and to spare you my "world weary" opinions, I'll merely say, I've started to only go to shows when I know people in one of the performing bands.
This little venue is funny to me. It was fabled in my freshman year as I socialized with boys I was too naive to socialize with. "Ohhhh...your band performs in a little shack at the end of a run down alley? Raaaad."
That wave washed over and crashed and dispersed.
Another wave with others faming the little place washed over and crashed.
Tonight I rechristened the place for another time. It was another spur of the moment "Come-see-my-show-I'll-be-there-to-pick-you-up-in-one-minute-who-eats-dinner?!" The bands were fine, the place was as average but charming as ever, the crowd was sparse, and the bass guitarist of the last band had the profile of a saint. Like a detailed Catholic painting Saint. I love a sainted profile with a delicate carving of eyes to each graceful corner. Makes me want to keep gazing.
This little venue is funny to me. It was fabled in my freshman year as I socialized with boys I was too naive to socialize with. "Ohhhh...your band performs in a little shack at the end of a run down alley? Raaaad."
That wave washed over and crashed and dispersed.
Another wave with others faming the little place washed over and crashed.
Tonight I rechristened the place for another time. It was another spur of the moment "Come-see-my-show-I'll-be-there-to-pick-you-up-in-one-minute-who-eats-dinner?!" The bands were fine, the place was as average but charming as ever, the crowd was sparse, and the bass guitarist of the last band had the profile of a saint. Like a detailed Catholic painting Saint. I love a sainted profile with a delicate carving of eyes to each graceful corner. Makes me want to keep gazing.
07 July 2008
humidity on my old post cards
I'm going to write it all out in list form since our time here is told to us as being short. Check it off.
I love linen suits
I love sleeping under the stars and am dreaming about making that a more regular occurrence.
you know that homeless man on university avenue? he is not ours and I'm not recommending you let yourself get caught in conversation with him.
listen to more patsy cline.
I wish there were more harmonicas in life.
freeze tag is an anaerobic activity.
I love linen suits
I love sleeping under the stars and am dreaming about making that a more regular occurrence.
you know that homeless man on university avenue? he is not ours and I'm not recommending you let yourself get caught in conversation with him.
listen to more patsy cline.
I wish there were more harmonicas in life.
freeze tag is an anaerobic activity.
03 July 2008
voodoo in my basement, you know that it's true*
AMAZING news on the western front........dadadadadadadadadada: I'VE GOT FILM FOR MY POLAROID CAMERA!!! O beauty, o beauty, o devout and pretty joy!
I rode my bicycle over to the grocery store and as usual at this time the old black man was sitting on top of the ash stand under the NO LOITERING sign by the bicycle racks. Hellos we said and later goodbyes we said.
This world is a mad place. I frequently find myself tiring of the idea of honoring one class of humans over another. My days are spent in homage to athletes, I'm tired of homage. I thought, now to be fair, would I care for homage to any others? I imagined role plays substituting Michel Gondry, Val Lewton, Cary Grant, Adrien Brody, Led Zeppelin, Ringo Starr, Leo Tolstoy, Norah Ephron. Not even darling Maggie Gyllenhaal made the cut. Instead I moved into the woods and lived in a little shack-lackle cabin.
This isn't to be completely doldrummed. At work today I discovered it is funny if I threaten to shove mushrooms up The Dreamer's nose. They all doubled over and loved me all day long. And I tried to convince my dear Dreamer that his middle name was Trouble and that my middle name was Danger. He's not buying it, he's convinced I'm Trouble.
Happy fourth!
Bleh...I bore myself with all the frippery.
*Lovin' Spoonful Voodoo in my basement
I rode my bicycle over to the grocery store and as usual at this time the old black man was sitting on top of the ash stand under the NO LOITERING sign by the bicycle racks. Hellos we said and later goodbyes we said.
This world is a mad place. I frequently find myself tiring of the idea of honoring one class of humans over another. My days are spent in homage to athletes, I'm tired of homage. I thought, now to be fair, would I care for homage to any others? I imagined role plays substituting Michel Gondry, Val Lewton, Cary Grant, Adrien Brody, Led Zeppelin, Ringo Starr, Leo Tolstoy, Norah Ephron. Not even darling Maggie Gyllenhaal made the cut. Instead I moved into the woods and lived in a little shack-lackle cabin.
This isn't to be completely doldrummed. At work today I discovered it is funny if I threaten to shove mushrooms up The Dreamer's nose. They all doubled over and loved me all day long. And I tried to convince my dear Dreamer that his middle name was Trouble and that my middle name was Danger. He's not buying it, he's convinced I'm Trouble.
Happy fourth!
Bleh...I bore myself with all the frippery.
*Lovin' Spoonful Voodoo in my basement
01 July 2008
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