29 September, 2006, 255 am
Filed under: Music

As October draws closer and closer, life just seems to get better and better.  Never in the, “Oh my gawd boyfriend lolololzzz,” sense, but more in the sense that life’s just good.  I always think, “Well, it would be better if [fill in the blank].”  If I was skinnier.  If I wasn’t sick.  If I had a love interest.  If I didn’t feel so gross and tasteless at school.  (If I was Jenny Lewis…??)  Things like that.  Lame, and somewhat superficial.  Honestly, though…I’ve got stellar grades, teachers I can relate to, and a good work ethic; as they used to say at Moody, we were “self-motivated.”  As far as everything else goes, I have a date with E-Dawg and Jenny Lewis (and maybe my dad?) in October, I’ve been meat-free for almost a year, and French is just amazing.  I live for a reason or two, and I’m determined again, now that I have some attainable goals that aren’t man-related (not that I’ve ever had any attainable goals that were man-related).  Possibly the only bad thing that’s happening is divorce, but that’s a half-full, half-empty thing.  The only bad thing I can think of is the possibility of moving to Pennsylvania (or worse–Lewisburg) and having to readjust during my junior year (and learning PA geography and my dad keeping the Druik game board).  Even that wouldn’t be too bad because I’d be used to rigorous programs like IB and, well, honours…I’d miss my friends, though, immensely.  BUT that’s not happening immediately, so let’s not talk about it, please.

Moving on...

I’ve been looking for a good free mp3 host ever since I read GuavaMaffiosa, which was one of the blogs that inspired me to write a blog (unfortunately, Guava has taken a permanent hiatus from it, but it’s still a great read).  Guava would put crazy downloadable mp3s in her blogs, and I just thought that was the coolest, most convenient thing ever, since I can’t put a blog jukebox on here; invasion of privacy.  So you could download and listen on your own free time, and whenever you wanted after that (Right Click, Save Target As…duh).  Well, somehow, I stumbled upon this thing called MediaMax…it’s kinda slow, but it so works.

Speaking of which, I like The Like.  Now, I haven’t heard too much of them yet, but they’re this mellow but overpowering indie pop girl band–three girls: Z, Tennessee, and Charlotte.  I’d presume they’re all really young, because they look it, and their ages apparently add up to be 53.  That’s what their site says.

J'aime The Like.

“Where did I find them?” you might ask.  They’ve been in magazines from TeenVogue to ElleGirl, but normally I ignore the music sections because I normally use Amazon (what other people bought that sounds like my favourite bands) as opposed to silly teen girl magazines that approve of Hawthorne Heights.  By the way, the next time you get the chance, tell me how to turn off “Overtype Mode.”  As in typing that deletes other typing.  Thanks.

Back to my purpose…ACOS, JMAN’s Tamagotchi’s namesake had one of their songs on her MySpace and I liked The Like in that very instant that I heard them.  It was nice, and pretty spectacular.  They were mellow, and they weren’t overly commanding like Bratmobile or airing on the too-soft side like Azure Ray sometimes.  They had rocking guitars (maybe a little predictable? but that’s not too bad; in fact, in this case, it was nostalgic) and a singer with a pleasant but edgy voice.  Their lyrics leave a little to be desired, and quite a bit is left up to the imagination, but they’re indie pop already; they can only get better with time.

The Like.  I like them.

I also liked this one because, I guess, it showed a more upbeat side to The Like.

The Like – The One

And last, but certainly not least, there’s “Waves That Never Break,” which reminds me a lot of The Elected or Rilo Kiley meets Orenda Fink meets Metric, maybe.  Weird combo.  It works, though.  This quite shows off Z’s raw voice, which is always nice and a must for me.

The ElectedOrenda FinkMetric looks a bit like Uma

The Like – Waves That Never Break

So listen to those, and I will clean my room for Jenny.  Or raise my English grade.  By the way…any links I put on this site will automatically open in a new window.  I’m so incredibly generous to consider small details such as that.  Yay me.

28 September, 2006, 1228 am
Filed under: Barrels of Fun, Music

As I wrote in my LJ today, someone could punch me in the face right now, and I’d giggle, smile at them, maybe give them a hug, and say, “I get to see Jenny Lewis!!!!!!!!1  WITH EDAWGGGGG!!  AIEEEEE!!!!!  Thanks!!!”  Whereas, normally, if someone punched me in the face, I’d either be pissed as fuck and kick them, yell profanities, or go cry in the corner because everyone hates me.  See, even if I don’t get to go see Jenny (I WILL–my mom got to see goddamn Greg Brady and get his autograph when she wanted to–why the fuck shouldn’t I see Jenny?!  Also, she dated Dan Roebuck when she was fifteen and he was fourteen–he asked her out.  I didn’t date anyone famous; she has one up on me), I will be disappointed, but I’ll still be less than a half a tank’s worth of gas away from her.  Which is satisfactory enough for me.


See, normally, again, I’d be the normal level of excited.  You know, “Woohoo.”  I’ll get over it.  Just, first, I thought I’d have to wait for years to see Jenny, and who knows what will have become of her that time.  Also, I just started this Jenny hype in like February or March.  I write about her all the time.  I’m not creepy-obsessive, I swear…but for me, Jenny is the essence of the every girl, and Conor is the essence of the perfect guy, per se, in the way he writes and articulates his feelings.  Call me crazy.  Call me names, but just being in the same room as Jenny will be a writing experience…twenty paragraphs.  NO FLUFF, EVEN.  Lordy.  I’m stoked out of my pants.  For Jenny only.  More so for Jenny because she seems most relatable out of my two must-see idols.  It would be easy to approach her and talk to her.  God…I really need to shut up.  It’s just, none of my classmates know who Jenny is, unless they read my blog, but they can’t appreciate her the way E-Dawg and I do.

I’m getting coughy from all this excitement.  I need to do my homework and take some cough medicine.  Maybe more later, maybe?


26 September, 2006, 138 am
Filed under: Music, School

What’s good and dandylicious? Being ill. With a cold. All day, it felt like my head was separate from my body, or that the back half of my body was being torn painfully away by some invisible darkness, making everything behing me seem like an endless black void. Ouch, right? That, and I had no distance perception; I forget what it’s called, but I used to have it when I was little when I was tired. It’s where things that are relatively close seem like they’re football fields away, and maybe even smaller than they are. I shouldn’t have gone to band practice today. Honestly. Ransome was in the worst mood ever. I think that we do better when he’s in a better mood. This band depends solely on his morale, which is cool when he’s ecstatic, but when he’s angry or flustered, we can’t fix it.

Lately, I’ve had the urge to play The Sims as in the original Sims, especially with the Makin’ Magic expansion pack. God, I used to rock that game. Except now I remember that in the original, they couldn’t die or grow up. Maybe I’m just craving the music, or the concept of perfecting everything without running out of time. I feel like I’m running out of time.

25 September, 2006, 246 am
Filed under: Barrels of Fun, Music

Today would have been eventful if Timpani Man had showed up to the mall today. Which, granted, he showed up, but we were right around the corner from him, and we didn’t see each other. Damn.


I’m more than a little pissed at my mom, by the way, because she is in Lewisburg. I’m not going to explain my troubles with Lewisburg. It’s an amazing small town, the home of Bucknell University, and great for skating (skateboarding, duh ->Pennsylvania), but karma balances out Lewisburg’s perfection and makes it hell for me. I’m never going back, as far as I’m concerned. My mom changes when we go there, and she’s there now, and she was supposed to come home today but she’s waiting it out another day, as fucking usual. She views my outgoing cousin Shanananana (Shannon) as the outgoing daughter she never had. I talked to her on the phone today, and she was really spacey.

ME: When are you getting back?
HER: (talking to someone else, then snaps back to the conversation) So what are you doing?
ME: (unenthusiastically) Eating pudding.
HER: Where are you?
ME: On the couch…?
HER: So what did you do this weekend?
ME: I went to the Armenian Food Festival with
HER: (
talking to someone else)
ME: Erika and Paige and Gil and John and Corey and Steven and you’re not even listening to me.
HER: Yes I am!
ME: I don’t feel like talking to you if you’re not going to listen to me because you don’t care.

I hung up on her, and about five minutes later, she called back; I guess she felt bad or something. Then again, when I get mad at her for Lewisburg reasons, she knows I’ll stay mad for a long time. So she tries to cheat her way out of it by pretending to care and listen to me, which is what I always yell at her for–she doesn’t really listen to me. I wish I had a smarter, more thorough mom. This phone conversation was even less enthusiastic than the first.

HER: So where’d you go with Erika?
ME: And Paige and Gil and the other guys? Were you even listening? The Armenian Food Festival.
HER: Where?
ME: The Armenian Food Festival.
HER: Where was that?
ME: Off Patterson.
HER: (awkward silence) Did you have fun?
ME: Yeah.
HER: Did you do anything else?
ME: Yeah.
HER: Like what?
ME: We went to Gil’s house and watched Super Troopers and then went to Tropical Smoothie and Food Lion. And that’s all.
HER: What movie did you watch?
ME: Super Troopers.
HER: Oh. Was that good?
ME: (wondering what her point is) Yeah…?
HER: (awkward silence) I’m at Shannon’s soccer game; it was early so I decided to go.
ME: Oh.
HER: (awkward silence) Is it raining there?
ME: No. It’s sunny.
HER: That’s weird.
ME: Yeah, whatever.

Ever since maybe February, I’ve been having complications with her. Christmas, maybe even. I’m not allowed to go out as late as I want to, when I’m the oldest. I have no priveleges for being the oldest. And most of all, she doesn’t listen to me, so I don’t bother giving her details. I don’t tell her who I like or don’t like, and she complains about not knowing who I hang out with, but I talk about them; she just won’t listen. She pretends I’m irresponsible and immature. She pretends I’m failing all my classes when it’s only the fourth week of school; that’s not enough time to fail. And most regrettably, she doesn’t even know that I love French. I feel like Eloise, even if it’s only because of our mothers, at times. And our belly to leg ratios.

Eloise, for realz

Enough about life, though. I don’t feel like talking about my mom. Or about Lewisburg.

I’ve been playing Sufjan Stevens’ “Chicago” way too much. It’s almost started to annoy me. I write too much about Conor Oberst, Elliott Smith, and Jenny Lewis. Blake Sennett, too. Let’s move on to less pressing indie matters and discuss Fall Out Boy.

what the fuck?

I’m fucking serious, Fall Out Boy. I’m fully aware, by the way, that I feel bad for Patrick Stump for being less hot than Pete Wentz.


Which, by the way…let me mention something that at least slightly irks me. That would be when girls who are ugly claim via writing or publicly, and totally seriously that a celebrity is hot. Gorgeous girls, too, even, but maybe less so than ugly girls. I’m sorry, because I’ve done it before, too. But it just makes me wonder if they actually think that this celebrity is going to fall in love with them at first sight and marry them? I don’t think so. Everyone expects it, and nobody gets it. Probably most of the reason that this irks me is that these girls are basing their path of logic around looks entirely, or mostly, and not even musical or theatrical merit. I know that when some inferior* male thinks I’m hot…I get pissed off, big time. So that’s why I try to avoid awkward situations such as these.

*Inferior = lacking in intelligence, etc.

I totally lost my train of thought there. But for the record, I think Pete putting out n00dz was a pretty dumb thing to do. If you take them, the public will find them; it’s pretty much guaranteed these days unless they’re Polaroids or you develop your own film. Which is unlikely.

MySpace is wiggin’ out on me, so I promise I’ll write something more interesting tomorrow or sometime in the next two days. Pinkie promise. ♥

Pinkie Promise for realz

Oh, and for kicks and giggles, since I mentioned this in one blog entry, and just to bring my three favourite artists back into this…the “Rise Up With Fists!” videos. You’ll love it, I swear. Sarcasm, overacting, yeah. Great stuff, whether or not you adore quirky redheads like Jenny or tenderly gorgeous brunettes like the Watson twins.

24 September, 2006, 448 am
Filed under: Barrels of Fun, Music, School

Today was possibly both the most and the least eventful day of my life. E-Dawg, Marti, and I went to the Armenian Food Festival, where we ate amazing food and had games and fights with some of the boys (except Gil and Corey). On the car ride back, John decided it would be funny to separate the van’s seats (I was supposed to fall on the ground), and ended up choking himself instead because he’s a smooth operator. We watched half of Super Troopers at Gill’s (HA misspelling on purpose to be obnoxious, plus that’s his new alias for this blog) and then we walked to Tropical Smoothie in clumps–the guys, the Paiges, and E-Dawg and Gill. We stayed there for about an hour, which ended after the boys had all left, and I almost wet my pants at some Oval person’s lame joke. Oval because they were oval-shaped, allegedly. ALLEGEDLY. And Paige drinks everything, and she’s a lifeguard, so to save kids, all she has to do to save a kid is jump in the pool and she drinks all the water. And after everyone’s out of the pool since it’s empty, she gets in, all inflated, and wrings herself out, and all the pool water is back. We ran over to Food Lion bullet-dodging n00b style (my addition to the night), tried to fly, almost got hit by several cars, and bought some cough drops. I bought a 50-cent hub cap necklace since Paige and Erika already had some, but I got a spinning rim one, which they wanted, so we went through about $10 worth of non-spinners until we got two more spinners, one for each of them. We also met the DARFUR supporter Jacob there, who went in and got us change for a five so they could get their spinners. On Monday, by the way, we’re handing out our kazillion spinners to cool people, or the first kazillion customers. We wasted a fucking lot of money. Even more than we did on that super-cool plane we got at CVS that one time that was supposed to go ten yards, but didn’t even go ten inches. After all that commotion, we bullet-ran home to E-Dawg’s vagina couch and each got a running start and ran head-first into it, for sexual innuendo purposes. In the process, we all hurt our heads and necks, and I think we’ll all be sleeping on ice packs tonight. There were a lot of penetration jokes. Heh heh. For example…I ran into the couch head-first and keeled over laughing and in pain.


She made another joke about someone, but…I’d rather not write that for the whole world to see. It would be amazingly funny (since everyone at my school would know who I’m talking about), but mean. It had to do with someone’s head not hurting when they did that, and for a reason. So I’ll just leave it for us to laugh at lamely.

That’s probably the most I’ve ever written about my life on this blog thus far. Moving on to more pressing indie matters, hopefully, in attempting to stay on the subject of indie, or music, maybe. Life in general? Ponderifficness?

The fall is my favourite season, so naturally I’m stoked that this is the first day of autumn, and that it began so well. I love the smells, and having to wear cozy clothes like thermal shirts and jeans. My favourite thing about fall, though, is the unnatural colours. You’d think, my favourite colour being green, that I hate fall because it fades during fall, but I love the yellows, reds, and browns, and especially the leaves and the leaf piles in the front yard that you jump in and hurt yourself in because they’re really NOT cushy.

Most of all, the fall reminds me of Bright Eyes, because E-Dawg lent me my first Bright Eyes experience, “Lifted” on a fate-filled fall day during French class, and after school, I popped it right into my handy Dell and listened for the first time to the music that would eventually consume my whole life. That first time, I lost my virginity. I didn’t understand that music could be deeper than they stupidity that was Avril Lavigne or Switchfoot, and I didn’t think that something could sound so amazing. Maybe it was too much for me. There were connections throughout that whole CD that made my spine tingle that first time, in deep concentration, a state of nirvana. I took it all in, right there, no breaks and no skips, because I so trusted E-Dawg’s faith in this band, in this man, the foreign Conor Oberst. There were parts of that album that I wouldn’t figure out until almost a year later. Like in “Big Picture,” Jenny Lewis (the red-head from Troop Beverly Hills and such) is that female voice. I didn’t listen to Jenny as Rilo Kiley until maybe February or March? And I definitely didn’t figure out that it was her in that song until mid-August. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up when I read that. The whole song still makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The whole album. Nobody could understand the changes this album brought. It was the road to change for me; I am who I am today thanks to my present friends and thanks to this album.

Granted, though this awakening was awe-inspiring, I didn’t like Conor’s voice at first. I thought it was a joke, sometimes. I thought I could sing like that and make millions. But it took me a few listens, deep listens, several chances, to realize that he has guts, and also that his imperfections make him better than all those perfect voices. Once you’ve heard and fallen in love with an imperfect voice, it’s impossible to drop that love. You crave more. And that’s where Desaparecidos and Commander Venus come in. I craved more orchestral music, and Azure Ray and Now It’s Overhead filled that need. Eventually, I fell in love with folk, so Rilo Kiley was perfect, and Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins, and The Elected. It was a journey, and it’s continuing to this day. It’s a cycle. Never have I heard of a more phenomenal and intertwined record company. It’s not a sell-out. If you like one band, you’ll like them all (except Beep Beep, haaa).

Beep Beep

I’ll be wearing my Bright Eyes “Going For the Gold” shirt when I’m thirty and probably a fat, ugly, worn-out soccer mom in Canada or Omaha or wherever I settle down. I’ll wear it in my coffin. The music is timeless, too; his oldest stuff is from 1995, and Commander Venus and Park Avenue are way before that. It sounds like the present to me, or else the way the 1930s or 1950s were supposed to be. Well, not Commander Venus and Park Avenue. They’re timeless in the sense that they sound like they were formed today and never broke up. Bright Eyes is truly timeless, though.

HA, shirt I'll wear in my coffin

If you remember a while back, I wrote an entry about reaching out to the freshmen. This is what I’m talking about. Last year, and even as a freshman, I wanted something new; I was virtually in the process of committing social suicide, and I would grab onto almost anything to get me out. As a freshman, I had boyfriends to occupy me, so it wasn’t until that drama was over that I really started thrashing around, looking for something new. Because as a freshman, there was nobody there to help me, and nobody to realize that I wanted to be impulsive and different. I still wish there was someone. As a sophomore, there was someone; ironically, someone younger.

Anyhow, the fall reminds me of “I think I’m cured. No, in fact, I’m sure of it. Thank you, stranger for your theraputic smile.” It reminds me of, “I got the money if you’ve got the time,” which, I can play the vibes part to, if I remember it. I know it’s sort of lame, but I think of the whole album as mainly fall, but some winter. It’s quite romantic and orchestral and warm, with cold edges. Dark themes. Jesus references. Conor Oberst is, or used to be, a Catholic man, but he opened my eyes a little. He, E-Dawg, and Sarah Yi propelled me to respond to and allegedly semi-own Alex Hill. I’ll always look down on Sarah and look eye level with Alex. I was that annoying bitch who had to respond to everything with book-long comments. I’m owning up to it, but not in a proud way, since that’s all gone now.

Bowl of Oranges

God, I love fall more than words can explain.

21 September, 2006, 1247 am
Filed under: Music, School

So the latest news on anything is that I voted for the mtvU Woodies. Just a few minutes ago, actually. Now, normally, I wouldn’t; I’d just sit there and defy the system; they can’t pry a vote from my cold, dead fingers! But…Motion City Sountrack was apparently nominated, so I was obliged to vote. Actually, I just found out that MCS was nominated for a streaming thing for “Hold Me Down.” Which, while that song’s alright, I don’t love it. It’s one of my least favourites by them. By the way, I have both of their albums and I don’t listen to them as frequently as I used to, but I know all the lyrics to every one of their songs (except “Shiver” and “Cambridge,” which I never liked too much). They’re a pretty good band. As in, they’re up there maybe with Azure Ray, but not in the same way.

You know what? I have an idea. I’ll revote, using my votes from the first time, and I’ll walk you through the mtvU Woody voting process! YEAH! This is exciting.

The first category that pops up obnoxiously is “Woodie of the Year.” Basically, songs you lived to in 2006. The contestants? “The Adventure” by Angels and Airwaves, “The Queen & I” by Gym Class Heroes, “Say Hey There” by Atmosphere, “I Write ashaldklsdjka whatever” by P!ATD (good use of abbreviation skills), and “Slow Down” by The Academy Is… Well, it’s too bad I didn’t live my life to any of these songs in 2006! Um, dommage. Not really; I don’t really like listening to shit in headphones. Let’s just choose The Academy Is… because they have good songs, and I’m prone to semi-liking them. Plus, I like their hair. I didn’t even watch the video.

The next category is the “Road Woodie,” which is basically who rocked loudest on tour. Cool. “Here (In Your Arms” by Hellogoodbye. Ahah, no. “Honestly” by Cartel, which gets an automatic maybe, since I know my cousin likes them, so they can’t be too bad (then again…Yellowcard). “MakeDamnSure” by Taking Back Sunday (aka TBS). It’s a guilty pleasure song, but not great. I’m actually supposed to say that. “Over My”–no. So that leaves me with “The Days Go By Oh So Slow” by Nightmare of You. I’ve heard of the band, sure, but never really gotten around to listening. LimeWire, eh, I can’t download any more; my computer’s full. So I watch the video. Their sound is nice, and the guy has a different voice. And he looks hot et un peu francais. They have potential, so I vote for them (though TBS would have been my second choice, if only for supporting emo/emo-inspired music, which I’ve abandoned).

“Breaking Woodie,” aka best n00b, great category. Arctic Monkeys, Lupe Fiasco, Plain White T’s, Chamillionaire, Imogen Heap. Sorry, boys, but girls always win, especially when they’re Imogen Heap. I listen to Imogen to relax and go to sleep. I fell in love with her…on The O.C. when Marissa shot Trey. Wait–what?! Um. Yeah, so uh, the runner-up was The Arctic Monkeys!?!

“Left Field Woodie.” Unclassified, basically. Random. Competitors? Gogol Bordelli, Imogen Heap, Gnarls Barkley, Lady Sovereign, and Wolfmother. So it turns into Imogen versus Wolfmother. As addicting as Wolfmother’s song “Woman” is, it’s too commercialized. And I love Imogen. Imogen wins two of my votes. She’s gorgeous, too, in an abnormal way, which is another reason why I’m drawn to her as an artist.

The “Live Action Woodie” is a video with real people in it. Wow. 30 Seconds to Mars, Feist, Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins?! WHAT?! Feist and Jenny Lewis are competitors. Ouch. Now, this wouldn’t be so weird if you didn’t know who they were, OR if Feist’s song wasn’t “Mushaboom.” Conor Oberst did an amazing cover of “Mushaboom.” The Postal Service did a “Mushaboom” remix. At some concerts together, Conor and Feist sang it together…with who other than Jenny Lewis. Um, ouch. I love both Fiest and Jenny, so I decide that the only way to fairly decide who my vote goes to is to watch both videos (I’m so diplomatic, but I already know who will win, unless Feist has unicorns in hers–REAL LIVE ones, or The Unicorns). Let’s just say that Feist has some elements that VH1 considers worst video ideas (flying, a town doing a coordinated dance in the middle of the road, flying bread?, mirror scene, stealing a guitar), more than one, even if it was cute, what with her jumping out a window (wtf?!). Jenny Lewis wins because of the sarcasm in her video, expecially the scenes where they’re sitting on a couch, or when they wink. I have to say, though, that if Feist wins, some or much of the credit will go to Jenny and Conor for covering her song and making it so big.

The “Animated Woodie” is self-explanatory. The runners for this are Gorillaz, Gnarls Barkley, Mark Ronson, Against Me, and Psapp. I’m not really interested in this category, but I watch all the videos, or as much as I can take of them, and I decide that Psapp has the best concept and song. Mark Ronson, though, was an inch behind, I swear. Graffiti never looked so cool. The little girl in the video, though, who drew the skateboarder, she reminded me too much of my neighbour who I despise, so…sorry, guys, choose cuter kids!

“Good Woodie” has to do with social issues. I chose Pearl Jam because they’re environment-oriented, and a good band. I don’t listen to them, except I listen frequently to their cover of The Doors’ “Light My Fire.” A decent cover, by the way. I’m such a dork.

I don’t want to choose AFI for “Alumni Woodie,” which is about people who’ve been around for a while and just recently got big, or bigger. As much as I secretly like “Miss Murder,” I feel propelled to vote for Fiona Apple because she deserves credit; she was the one who chose to hide her second album from the world for years. The Red Hot Chili Peppers don’t need it; they’ll be around next year, and old, naked, and long-haired. And the other two, I don’t care about enough to give them a chance. But I’ll get their numbers and probably sex them up after the show.

For “International Woodie,” I already know I’m gonna either choose The Arctic Monkeys, SIA, or The Subways, so I just choose SIA because she’s quiet, and I like Polaroids, if you know what I mean. Sorry, I don’t even know what I mean.

So you should get the idea. Apparently, the Woodies are a huge deal this year. Huger than your mom (BURN!). That’s pretty huge.

Speaking of moms, Cora! (Tamagotchi, duh) is 8 years old today, and the Matchmaker came for her yesterday, but I didn’t like the dude she picked. So my sister’s is gonna be Cora!’s baby’s father. Also, Mr. R wants one from the pit as a gift. So…we’ll connect with his. Which will be half cool, and half unforgettably creepy…

Check out this cool cat, by the way. Made my day…

Totally Halloween. Ready, go!

20 September, 2006, 206 am
Filed under: Music, School

As of today, I’ve decided to disregard all deadlines unless the deadlines other people have start getting respected. It’s obnoxious how much is just cancelled out by people who say it’s gonna happen now, and then it doesn’t. In Driver’s Ed, Simulator 5 is broken–mine and Sara’s. It was supposed to be fixed by last Monday or so. Psych. In band, there are millions of missed deadlines. Marimbas and vibes still haven’t arrived, three months after the fact. We just got the closer to the show on Thursday, over a month after it was promised (and we’re expected to have it memorized in a week–keep in mind that we have social lives, school, and mounds of homework). Our shirts? Well, they were due Friday…What about being released from class on time? What ever happened to seniority of juniors? Late buses. Everyone thinks I’m a freshman, for the third year in a row. Thanks, guys. I think this is either a lesson in karma about my numerous missed deadlines, or it’s God’s way of pushing me to the edge so I gain impatience and put myself out there in the world. Then again, maybe everyone just sucks except the students. I know that someday, I’ll get my turn to be old and powerful; right now, it’s my opportunity to be young, hip, and powerless. But I’m getting sick of it, finally. I have the urge to be a leader, but nobody looks up to me because I always stoop to their levels. Figuratively. Plus, I’m a girl, literally. Weird how free everything is, but it really is sexist sometimes.

sooo sexist

I’d like to use this opportunity to advertise for perhaps my favourite MySpace band. I swear they didn’t ask me to do this, and I don’t know if they’d appreciate it, since the one time I commented them really long and thoughtfully, they just responded with a “Thanks” or a “Thanks that means a lot” (with no punctuation, lowercase, like that) and the person who read it was probably like, “What the fuck? Restraining order? Next!” like on that MTV show, “Next,” which I secretly watch but absolutely despise because they always call skinny girls fat, which lowers my own self esteem. Like run-on sentences? Yeah, me too. Anyhow.

In this situation, I could actually write about either of two bands, powerpop geniuses Nude or indie rock chats Shining Through. I lean towards Nude, because they were never directly rude to me, and I think their songs in general are catchier and more emotional. But you know who commented back? Shining Through. Even if it was halfhearted, unlike my comment.

The first thing I noticed about Shining Through that I liked was probably their sound. Even if a song has the best lyrics, I won’t listen to it if it sounds like shit. My automatic liking for them would make sense, since they list influences such as Bright Eyes, Cursive, and Pedro the Lion. OOH press pause; I found my comment to them. Jackpot.

Well, maybe I won’t post the comment to and the comment fro. Maybe at the end of this entry. Anyhow, my favourite song by them is called “The Smoke and the Sounds.” Overall, the lyrics summed up my situation and the sound summed up my fury a few months ago, so I was obsessive. It’s diverse enough not to be annoying, and you can take it seriously, but it’s catchy enough that anyone could like it, if they were in an angry mood, or maybe a weird, loud kind of self-pity. When I pity myself, I listen to Elliott Smith or certain Bright Eyes/Rilo Kiley songs (the only Rilo Kiley pity songs would have to be “Does He Love You,” “A Man/Me/Then Jim,” “RIPCHORD,” “Pictures of Success,” “Plane Crash in C…” Okay, so there are a lot of Rilo Kiley pity songs, but they’re far above average). But when I’m mad, I’ll turn to rock stuff, and that’s where Shining Through comes in. They’re angry and emotional and original, with lyrics that read like prose. It’s great. But I’m telling you, go to their MySpace and at least download “The Smoke and the Sounds,” because it’s more than worth it. It’s free, douchebag. Do it.

Here’s our conversation, by the way. Note that I’m as sincere as, like, Goldilocks, and he’s as insincere as a vegetable. Fuck yes.

“i am not a great new friend. i am an oldish one. and man…’the smoke and the sounds’ is one of my favourite songs ever ever ever. the lyrics are amazing and completely relatable…the story of my life. of course, i love all your songs…that one just stands out. it even beats out many cursive and bright eyes songs for me. it’s groovy. alright, peace.”

That was for the blind. Oh, and because of the higher-level thinking comment I got back, I take back what I said about them being up there with the likes of Bright Eyes and Cursive. I was actually probably lying to flatter them some and inspire them to make some new songs, damn it. By the way, I don’t do that to most bands/people. Just the ones I think aren’t going to listen to me because I’m inferior because I’m not in a band/not “chouette” (which, by the way, means owl, yes, or neat/cool according to modern French books). And you can always tell. Otherwise, I compliment too subtly and way too indirectly.

For those of you who can’t read rude/upside down (sorry; my computer won’t let me change that no matter how many times I reupload it), it says “thanks so much it means a lot.” No punctuation, either; I just had to put the period to end my original sentence. Yeah, thanks a lot, Shining Through. I don’t even get a fucking period. I’m putting in a good word, though, since I have faith.

But/however, Marc Spitz is another story. Haha, half-kidding; I didn’t expect a response to that one, and he’s still my favourite author.

By the way, while browsing YouTube, I found this…and just about laughed my ass off at the end, trampoline…and the hats…looks like they ran out of things to ask in those seven minutes.