A Little Bit of Everything

So, I just wanted to throw some random stuff out there.

*Love Monkey has been picked up by VH1. No new episodes have been ordered, but the remaining shows that were shot, but never aired on CBS are starting April 18th at 9:00pm.

*If you are into the indie rock, and like quizzes, take this one. I am Bikini Kill, don't you know.

*Check out Anthony's perspective on the Britney Spear's statue.

*I've added another concert to my list. My cousin and I will be seeing Nine Inch Nails in Camden, NJ in June.

*Should I see Ween? Post and let me know what you think.

*I have to wear a puffy-painted shirt to work tomorrow. It is a new low in my hellish world.

Well, that does it for now. More to come . . .

Jazmin, She's no Princess

I'm sure you've all heard of the show "My Super Sweet Sixteen" on MTV. If not, well, consider yourself informed. I've seen it several times, and I've watched it the same way you watch a car wreck. But, a particular episode caught my eye recently. It was the story of Jazmin and her rags to riches life. She was a foster child and she was adopted by a super rich couple in Erie, PA. And, in one short year, she went from poor girl in the slums to the most superficial, mean and spoiled girl I think I have ever seen on that show. And that is saying a lot.

Jazmin flies off to NY for a little dress shopping, in the family private plane, but turns bitchy when her "friend" Brittany tries on dresses too. Then, when casting lifeguards for her beach themed party, Brittany invites guys over that Jazmin just doesn't like. So, after shopping for a sports car with her, Brittany is told that she is no longer a "VIP" (one of Jazmin's other friends had to ask what it meant) and can't ride to the party in the limo. An attempt by Brittany to call Jazmin is met with the VIP's laughing at her and telling her that Jazmin is busy, even though Brittany can hear her voice. My favorite part of the show is when Jazmin is telling the others that Brittany is out of the VIP's. One of them asks why, and another random girl says, "Because she's short, fat and has a big nose." The girl is taller than Jazmin, probably weights 90 pounds and well, I don't remember her nose.

This show is just another example of the tragedy that is the youth of today. This girl came from nothing, and forgot about decency and kindness as soon as she was shown the benjamins. The one highlight of the show was watching the vapid little frog-face fail her permit test. As a PA resident, I can tell you, it's about the easiest thing in the world.

But, don't worry Jazmin, that $50,000 BMW more than makes up for the fact that you have no soul. When you crash it, I'm sure you breast-implant-having mom and you face-lift having dad will just buy you a new one.

*New episodes of the madness return to MTV on April 12th.

Couldn't Have Said it Better

"It is against stupidity, in every shape and form, that we have to wage our eternal battle."

-William Booth

How The Light Gets In

I picked up this book on a whim on Saturday night, and I am already finished with it. I actually finished it Monday. It is always great when a book is that good that I just want to keep reading and reading until I finish it.

How The Light Gets In, by M.J. Hyland, is a story of Louise (Lou for short), a Sydneysider who enters an exchange program to the US, to get the hell out of her crappy flat and crappy life. She is a genius, (who just happens to be poor) and feels unloved and alone in her family. So, she arrives in America, in the Chicago suburbs, hoping for a new life and to find a way to stay away from her old one. She has every good intention of being everything her host family, The Hardings, want her to be. But, it doesn't really work out that way. She finds herself struggling to fit into their perfect, suburban life that is so foreign from her own, and starts failing miserably.

There are no upbeat emotional breakthroughs, family togetherness or happy endings. But, there is a real, well written story of broken expectation, both of ourselves and others. I find it hard to believe that this is only Hyland's first novel. It's truly a departure from the usual fodder that features a female main character. So, check out How The Light Gets In for a truly original and amazingly poignant story.

Morrissey: Ringleader of the Tormentors

I know the album doesn't come out until next week, but I have been listening to it constantly over the last several days on his page on myspace.com. And, I can say without reservation, that it is absolutely amazing. Ringleader of the Tormentors (great title, by the way) was recorded in Rome, where Morrissey is still residing. And, while he may still be melancholy, this album rocks like I haven't heard since Your Arsenal came out. But, perhaps most shocking of all, we get a little bit of overt sexuality from the cagey(is he gay or asexual?) singer.

Tracks like the first single, You Have Killed Me, are as classic a Morrissey track as you will ever find. But, it is the song, Dear God Please Help Me, that has all the critics and people talking. With the lines "there are explosive kegs/between my legs", "I am spreading your legs/with mine in between " and "he motions to me/with his hand on my knee", the song of longing and lust seems to have everyone in a tizz. So, take it seriously or not, it definitely helps set the tone for the soaring and, at times, upbeat record. The 7 minute mini-epic Life is a Pigsty divides the record and takes the listener on a twisting journey. Overall, there are really no let downs on this record, and may be one of his strongest in years.

So, come April 4th, I will be picking up the new Morrissey, and be praying that he will come to my town soon, to grace us with his shirt-tossing stage theatrics. Until then, I will just have to settle for listening to the CD. . . wearing all black. . . with the lights off. . . in the rain. . .

Daydream Believer

Sometimes in life, we lose things. An item that was once so dear to us, suddenly vanishes. It could be because of a move, a bout of house cleaning or a desire to "simplify." But, sometimes, you want the item back and you become obsessed with finding it. For times like these, I thank my lucky stars that eBay exists.

It has brought great things back into my life, like a My Little Pony that I once owned and lost. Or the villainous Sour Grapes from Strawberry Shortcake. My sister managed to find both of these for me on eBay and brought them back to me again. It was so great.

Since then, I have used eBay for many things, but my quest for two items in particular has been a true eBay adventure. The first item was a black Swatch that I purchased in Switzerland when I was 16 years old. It had black hands and numbers on a black face and it was the coolest. Somewhere along the way, I lost this watch, and was devastated. My honey bought me a cool Swatch as a replacement, but it just wasn't the same. Several attempts to find the watch on eBay were fruitless, and I lost a bid for one I thought was it. But, I finally found THE watch and it was the best possible scenario. A "Buy it Now" in my price range. So, I snapped it up, PayPal'd it and it should be here soon. I am elated to have the watch I loved so back in my life. I just won't be able to know the time at the movies.

But, the quest that has eluded me so far, is the search for my beloved Prairie Flower. She was a dusty-pink, banana-seat bike and I loved her. She came with a brown basket and a bell, and I thought I was the shit on this bike. For some reason the bike was sold, or given away to some cousin's cousin. No one is quite sure what happen to her, but she is gone. And, I want her back. I don't have any really great pictures of me on the bike, but someday, I will have her again. Someday, I will type the words into eBay, and there she will be. And, I don't care what it takes, I will have her home again.

Some one out there has a Prairie Flower, and will someday want to clean out the garage or the shed and think, "How about I sell it on eBay?" I will be waiting patiently for that day. Until then, I will dream of riding down the road on my own Prairie Flower, wind in my hair, my bell ringing in my ears. I miss you, girl.

Office Space

If you have never seen this movie, I don't want to know you. Any person who has ever had a job needs to see this movie. It was on television this weekend, and of course I watched it yet again.

I think the reason that this movie speaks to so many people, is that every character in it reminds you of someone from your real life. We all have the "weird phone answer lady" and middle management overbearing type who just won't shut up. And, the situations are true to life. Who hasn't wanted to sidestep and walk by the boss when you know a lecture is coming? Who hasn't wanted to set the building on fire when they take away your kick-ass red stapler?

But, the king of them all is the boss himself, Bill Lumbergh. The clueless, Porche driving asshole that makes everyone's life a living hell. The fact that one of my bosses actually drove a blue Porche just made it all the better for me. The funny part about it, is that even bosses love this movie, because they are deluded enough to think that they are not like that. But, the sad truth is that even the best boss has had Lumbergh moments. They can't help it. Once you get into that position, it just happens. So, be forewarned. Anyone who doesn't think this movie is funny is evil. And, I know a few.

So, if you hate your job, even a little, watch this movie. You'll be glad you did.

*For those of you waiters out there, check out Waiting. Kind of the same thing, only in a restaurant.

I'm Going to Live Forever

So, I'm innocently passing the time at work today on the internet, and I come across this article on The Age (Melbourne newspaper). It turns out a German study revealed that people who are forced by their jobs to be genial and nice all day, are more likely to be sick. Apparently all this mass-marketed and forced friendliness that I am required to give all day will drive me into an early grave. As if my job didn't suck bad enough, now I have to worry that all the fake smiles I dole out every day will give me a freakin' heart attack.

The study says that faking emotions leads to depression and that in turn lowers your immune system. And, if you do it long enough, in addition to random shooting sprees, it can lead to long term health problems. And, when you are forced to swallow big old handfuls of shit from belligerent people, not expressing yourself is actually harder on your heart than if you speak your mind and just tell them they are a douchbag. To quote the study "Being friendly against one's will causes nothing but stress." Amen, my sister.

Deadboy and the Elephantmen: We are Night Sky

Okay, okay. So they sound a little like the White Stripes, and consist of the same type of line up of one woman and one man. They work the same style of minimalist blues rock, just like the WS. But, I think that they put their own stamp on the style that has made the WS popular.

The voice of Dax Riggs is far less grating than Jack White, far less whining and more brooding low end on his voice. He warbles and moans all the same, but it is to much better effect and works better in the songs. Tessie Brunet's drumming is more inspired and while still somewhat rudimentary, often has the power to lift a song to more anthemic crescendo than Ms. White ever could.

The title track stands out on the record, taking the slow, plodding start and bringing it up into a catchy, upbeat chorus. Other great tunes are No Rainbow and Walking Stick, which feature Brunet's amazing soaring vocals.

I've been playing this record almost every day since I got it, and I'm convinced that the White Stripes have nothing on this band. But, don't take my word for it. Check it out for yourself.

Back From the Dead

I suppose I spoke too soon. That cold I vanquished so easily before was apparently pissed at me for making fun of it, so it came back and punched me right in the head. So, after ruining my four day weekend and making me miss more work (okay, that part is fine) the cold is finally letting me out of its grasp.

I've been pretty boring lately, as I've been either asleep or half asleep for about 5 days. So, hopefully I will have something more interesting to report soon. Just wanted everyone to know I wasn't dead.

Stone Cold Concert Crazy

Tis the season, it seems, to go to as many concerts as humanly possible. It all started last year with two trips to Atlantic City, to see Missy Higgins and Henry Rollins, respectively. Followed by Death Cab for Cutie. Then, again this February, as you all know, we saw Hank again. And, now it is truly on. Till the break of dawn. On March 22, it is Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins. Then, on March 29, it is David Sedaris. Come April, it is Dinosaur Jr on the 4th (the reformed original line up, I'll have you know), followed closely by Death Cab for Cutie (again, naturally)/Franz Ferdinand on April 8th. We kick off May with Lisa Loeb on the 1st. Then, the shows continue into the summer, when my mom and I will be rocking to Kenny Rogers in August.

I'm sure there will be more, but as of right now, I'm a little booked up.

Going to concerts was something I did a lot, back in the day (which was Wednesday, by the way). Then there was a long dry spell where I just didn't go to many concerts. And, during that time a lot of bands that I really liked, and never saw live, broke up. And, I got really tired of that happening. Missing the chance to see Hey Mercedes, a band I truly love, was the last straw. I decided, No More. Now, if you are near me, look out, because I am going to try and see you. And, it has opened the flood gates for what I am doing now. Stay tuned for reviews, experiences and so on. . .

Together Everyone Hates Being Together

So, it's that time again at work. More team building crap that I can't stand. We were informed recently that for two weeks, last week and this week, it is Team Appreciation time and the powers that be have decided to "appreciate" us with the sum of $10 each, in which to buy us food, or pointless crap. So, we have decided to go out to dinner, but of course we have to pay for our own booze. And, it also means giving up my free time to hang out with people that I can't stand for the most part anyway.

But, the big news is how we are celebrating the team togetherness shit. We had to endure a photo session today, one as a group and then each of us individually. Which. I. Can't. Stand. And, with the group photo, my boss is going to have it made into a jigsaw puzzle. Then we are going to put it together, and then frame it, and then hang it up. There are no words for how stupidly symbolic and utterly lame this venture is. And, we were all supposed to think this was a brilliant way to build team spirit. Right. It is beyond me how people can buy into this crap. Decide that this shit is actually important, and that a puzzle of us actually means something. People who create team building exercises, and those who delight in them need to die. Right now. They are now and always on the ever growing list of people I love to hate.

The Children

People say that the joys of parenthood are like nothing else on earth. That the unconditional love you feel is overwhelming. I have to say that I agree. Of course, I have no children. But, I do have a baby of sorts. We actually have two. They are our MP3 players, one Apple iPod named Otis, Odie for short. And, one Dell Deejay that goes simply by DJ. Odie is a momma's boy, for sure, while DJ is definitely more like his old man. And, while I love DJ, I can't help but admit that I play favorites with Odie.

Now, I know what you are thinking. It is terrible and wrong to compare a piece of electronics with a child. And, you know what? You're right. But, my Odie is special to me. I treat him with unconditional love and respect. I feed him, clothe him and keep him safe and warm. (Because if you leave him in the cold, the battery drains.) I have, like all parents, fallen victim to buying my baby the latest accessories and trinkets all the other kids have. I can't say no when Odie asks me for more songs to fill up his hungry 40G belly. He smiles at me with that big, bright screen and I just can't say no. He never lets me down, and he always knows just what Mommy wants to hear. He plays me, but I have to say, I play him too.

While there is a little sibling rivalry between our two boys, they are both loved and adored. They are never far from our thoughts, or sights, and we brag on them constantly. I look forward to every minute we spend together, and I can't wait to watch my little Odie grow and grow (at least until the memory is filled). So, forgive me my anthropomorphism of an iPod. I love Odie. And, he loves me too. I can't remember life before him, and I wouldn't trade one minute of my time with him. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.