Monday, August 27, 2007

FALL

Okay first, more egregious pictures of cute little kids:

First, my nephew -- poor kid has the big head all of us do --


Then, S with J, S, and N -- we're watching the W. Sox get slaughtered by the R. Sox. Aren't they awesome?!


Watching a baseball game with kids (esp. awesome kids like these guys) RULES. So fun. It was pretty cool to see Manny Ramirez and company so close up.
It's fall as evidenced by the monstrous September Vogue and September In Style. I'm secretly excited about it, if anything for the clothes. Goddamn "skinny pants" are back, though. And I hate the tunicy billowy thing, who does that look good on? OH RIGHT, the same people who look good in skinny, stovepipe pants. Bitches. I am digging pencil skirts, trenchcoats, and small fall bags, not that I'm going to buy any of those things. Okay, maybe a trenchcoat, like this one. It's utilitarian!
Why the fuck do so many urban city dwellers get dogs? I'm not talking about families -- that I get. I'm talking about idiots who are away from their homes for 10 to 12 hours a day, live in smallish apartments or condos, and can't handle living by themselves and need the unconditional devotion and attachment of an animal who had no choice in the matter. Or couples who have grown tired of 1 to 3 years of marriage and need to get a dog to (1) draw attention away from the slow realization that marriage actually wasn't going to be nirvanic bliss; (2) distract themselves from the reality that their attraction to one another is steadily but surely waning; and (3) do a test run before they start popping out kids. The Pet Shop Boys said it best:
I want a dog,
A chihuahua
When I get back to my small flat
I want to hear somebody bark
Oh, (oh oh) you can get lonely
Dont want a cat,
Scratching its claws all over my Habitat
Giving no love and getting fat
Oh, (oh oh) you can get lonely
And a cats no help with that
I want a dog,
To walk in the park
When it gets dark, my dog will bark
At any passers-by
Oh, (oh oh) you can get lonely
I want a dog,
A chihuahua
When I get back to my small flat
I want to hear somebody bark
Oh, (oh oh) you can get lonely
I want a dog

Idiots.
I'm really excited about the new Ang Lee movie. A story about forbidden, doomed love directed by Ang Lee that takes place in Japanese-occupied 1940s Shanghai? Does it get better than that? So excited.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Doggshit

Sigh. Leave it up to the Clock to turn something that is supposed to be good and an achievement worth celebrating into something that is dark and sad, and actually evidence that I have failed at bettering my life and advancing my career. If this doesn't motivate me to get off my ass and get in gear, I'm not sure what will.

Monday, August 06, 2007

West End Girls

Nothing to the title other than that's what I'm listening to right now. Oh yes, the creative juices are flowing.

Am I drafting my reply brief? No, I am not. Instead, I'm procrastinating here.

I went to Lollapalooza for what I think will be the last time. It was fun, no doubt about that, but I think the defining moment for me is when S and I were crammed nearly in the front row at Interpol and looked around us to see a sea (see a sea, see a sea) of braces and pimples. The concert was fucking awesome, but our experience was nearly ruined by the body-surfing, the "I want people to think I am a punk rock chick -- see, look at my streaky hair -- who really gets into music and therefore dances uncontrollably" girls (of course they were girls) who kept shoving into us, and just plain idiocy. Oh, how I loathe humanity. And an outdoor music FEST is ground zero for masses of sweaty, unwashed humanity. Well and then of course we were commenting about how these idiot kids can't even appreciate Interpol's darkness. OLD.

It was fucking awesome though. The fact that it was raining and kind of cold made it even more awesome. Interpol in the cold, rainy darkness = fucking cool. And I will reiterate previous statements that talented, dark musicians from New York must have no problems getting laid, because, I mean.

I'm so pissed that Daft Punk didn't play Digital Love though. That's 80% of the reason I went! One of the best songs ever. Still, pretty fucking cool.

My current food obsession is prosciutto e melone. Holy shit. A pork or beef girl I'm not, but for some reason the salty prosciutto and sweet melon, accompanied with a glass (or 2, who am I kidding) of dry white wine is the perfect, perfect summer combination.

On another note, a friend of mine recently told me that she split up with her husband of less than a year. Setting aside for a moment the fact that my respect for her shot up exponentially, and that what she's done takes an incredible amount of courage, strength, and self-awareness, I'm really beginning to wonder if it's possible to be and remain happily married. Christ. I've seen at least five marriages fall apart in the last year or so, and suspect that several others are suffering in grin-and-bear-it (or look the other way when you know your partner is cheating) silence. Am I just reaching that point in my life where people start splitting up? Shit, not that I was all optimistic-cheery-things-always-work-out-true-love-is-everlasting, but I'm really beginning to question the viability of any kind of long term domestic relationship. Even people who wait longer, even people who go into it with their eyes seemingly open, get blindsided. Though I do have to say that the one common underlying theme is that most of the relationships began when either or both parties was young and didn't really know themselves, much less each other. It seems you really kind of have been fucked over once and know yourself and know adversity and know that long term partnership is exactly what you want -- not what will make your partner happy -- before you begin such a partnership. You also have to know exactly what you're getting into when you start having kids, or FUCK.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Verbal Diarrhea

I've been spending a little too much time thinking about heavy shit, so I'm going to try to keep it light:

-- Holy fucking shit, I held an iPhone in my hand over the weekend and tinkered with it. Holy fucking shit. I don't know what it is though, somehow I can't bring myself to even begin to think about what it must be like to own something that is almost $1,000. Plus, if it is anything like an iPod, the goddamn thing will break. It is just...amazing, though.

-- I had a nice time with MP and family over the weekend. Just... nice. Fun times with the kid and just hanging with my family. MP still bursts into tears with little or no provocation, so it is nice when we can just have a nice, relaxing time and she is happy.

-- I found a designer whom I love who makes clothes that actually fit me (no easy feat, given the short torso; short, stubby legs; and football player shoulders). Trina Turk! Love her clothes, love her fabrics, love the fact that I don't have to get her stuff altered. Expensive, though.

-- I received confirmation that someone from my past, whom I always dread running into or seeing, has gone someplace so far away I can say with confidence, comfort, and peace that I will never see him again in my lifetime. THANK GOD. GO AWAY.

-- Roy Orbison is good to listen to when you are feeling bleak.

-- Patrick came home. I missed him, and I was glad to see him. And oddly, it makes me happy to know that he missed me, too.

-- I found the culprit for my fucking rash. AVEDA. Fucking shit, it's resurrected itself again. At least I know what caused it.

-- Is it really August? Fuck. BANAL CLICHE ALERT - the summer is flying by.
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