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not her again
Here is what made my day:

I was walking through the Union Sq subway station, and there - in this corner, without a ton of foot traffic, where no buskers usually sit - was a guy playing a didgeridoo.

Best. Ever.

Other than that? Eh, I don't know, it was sort of a standard day. I had a very late lunch of Thai food, which was delicious - and, oh, this was awesome, I come in so often that the whole staff knows me and so when I sat down they brought me an iced coffee without my even having to order it; you see, it pays to have a rut - and I passed up the cupcake place next door because I was really full, but now I am regretting that decision. I mean, really, I feel like if the choice is between having a cupcake and not having a cupcake? You should always have the cupcake. And by "you" I mean "I".

But tomorrow is another day, eh?
 
 
Hearing: Xavier Rudd, "Let Me Be"
 
 
not her again
23 April 2008 @ 09:48 pm
Y'all?

I had such a good birthday.

I wore my tiara to work; Awesome Boss brought me coffee in the morning; two people from Accounting bought me a cake(!); I went to lunch with Awesome Boss and a few people from our internet department at this little Italian place in Chelsea and had a they-called-it-a-panini-but-it-wasn't-really-but-what-it-was-was-delicious with seared tuna, black olives, arugala, and lemon juice, and we shared a bottle of prosecco - it was just one of those days when all the little things align to keep you in a fantastically good mood all day.

A refreshing change, because Monday I'd been in a pretty lousy mood most of the day, feeling stressed and over-emotional and exhausted.

Also I polled everyone at work and asked them if they thought that, now that I'm 27, I should have my shit together already. I was reassured that the vast majority of responses fell into the "No, you have plenty of time" camp. That's a load off my back! Because the shit? Is not together.

I plan on faking it for the next half century or so. Good plan?

In apartment news, the room is all painted and beautiful, and now I am just waiting for the new carpet to be installed. Meanwhile I'm working on decoupaging my new nightstand with pages from Shakespeare plays. I shall try to post some photos when it's done - for now, let me be humble and modest and say that it looks freakin' awesome.

(Funny story: I'm doing a different play on each side - "As You Like It" on top, because it is my favorite and contains my favorite line, which is "Oh wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! And yet again wonderful! And after that, out of all whooping!" So I arranged everything so the page with that line would be in the center, on top of all the other pages. This was late, late, late on Sunday night, so I glued everything down and took myself off to bed immediately. When I looked at it on Monday? Yeah, I had glued the page with my favorite line face down. Unfixable. Ah, well. I shall write it on every mirror in the house!)

And now, if you'll excuse me - I feel like this is a terribly prosaic entry, but it's getting late and there is a pint of Mangodesh ice cream pouting seductively in the freezer. Don't wait up!
 
 
Feeling: cheerfulcheerful
Hearing: Jim White, "Buzzards of Love"
 
 
not her again
20 April 2008 @ 09:02 am
OK I know I have been, like, not around lately, so here is a quick summary:

My apartment fell apart. Literally.

And here is a not-quite-quick not-quite-summary:Collapse )
 
 
Feeling: exhaustedexhausted
Hearing: Tegan & Sara, "I Can't Take It"
 
 
not her again
25 March 2008 @ 07:13 pm
Walking to the train from work this evening I passed an poster proclaiming, "Coming soon! Moonvertising! Look for the next full moon!" With this rather pulp-looking illustration of, like, a sort of ray gun projecting an image onto the moon. (I was walking fast, I didn't get a thorough look.)

This has gotta be the setup for an elaborate April Fool's joke, no? Or at the very least some sort of po-mo meta-advertising?

I mean, how would that even work? Even if you could construct - what, it'd have to be a laser, I guess? - that was powerful enough to not mostly reflect back off the ionosphere - would a laser do that? maybe not - unless it's on a satellite in orbit? - I mean, I figure it'd have to be really bright. The moon is already reflecting the sun's light, and I imagine the projection would get washed out. Like, there's a reason you turn the lights off before using the overhead projector, yeah?

Someone with greater powers of Science! should explain this to me.
 
 
Feeling: confusedskeptical
 
 
not her again
I was going to go to sleep half an hour ago; and then I was just going to skim through my friends page and go to bed; and then I had a really strange reaction to Sunil's post and I thought I'd try to jot down my feelings about it.

I'll sum up these brief prefatory remarks by stating that none of this should be interpreted as critical of the post, or of Sunil himself; that's not my aim here at all. I'm a little weirded out by my own reaction.

Anyway. Onward.Collapse )
 
 
Feeling: crankycranky
Hearing: Ani DiFranco, "Not a Pretty Girl"
 
 
 
not her again
OH WHAT THE FUCK I HAD A WHOLE ENTRY AND LJ ATE IT UP. LiveJournal, may you always be asking what the weather's like outside!

It wasn't that great an entry, really; I wished everyone a happy Pi Day, mourned the lack of pie in my apartment (eased by the presence of Mangodesh ice cream in my belly, yum), and nattered on about my current guilty pleasure song. ("Can't Speak French" by Girls Aloud) That whole section is really disposable, except for the part where I examine the song structure: verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, chorus, chorus ad nauseam. Which is utterly ridiculous, and I imagine the group showing up to the recording studio all, "Oh, snap, did the writers forget to finish this song for us? Oh well, let's do it anyway."

Edited to add: Thank God I cntrl-A-cntrl-C'd this, because it posted NOTHING. LiveJournal, thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out!
 
 
Feeling: annoyedannoyed
Hearing: Jens Lenkman, "Your Arms Around Me"
 
 
not her again
11 March 2008 @ 08:43 pm

My new favorite book: LET ME SHOW YOU IT!

Lettered Creatures by Brad and Mark Leithauser

I have a sample copy at work and am currently constructing an elaborate scheme to sneak it home. Probably concealed somewhere about my person. As it's a hardcover with a rather large trim size, that's proving difficult. My person is not quite that vast.

Here is my favorite poem from the book:

     The evolution of the flightless bird
Took generations. Having made the skies our own,
     We needed aeons to appreciate
               In every hollow bone,
     That our forgotten marriage to the earth
Remained solid. Gravity called us and we heard
Its sure, deep-rooted cry. The ground was good, and worth
                      The wait the weight.

The whole book is just brilliant; unbelievably witty and smart. There's a great one about the heron, with a good pun on wader/waiter and the bill. It makes me happy. Just - gosh!

In non-gosh news, the big change at work is the implementation of stricter hours. (E.g. Awesome Boss has been chosen as one of the office keyholders, and is to kick everyone out and lock the office at 7pm every evening.) It is so regimented right now that I have an assigned lunch hour. Which is bogus and ridiculous, but whatever. We'll see how long that lasts.

Suddenly it is 9:30 and I haven't had dinner! What is going on here?

 
 
Feeling: hungryhungry
Hearing: Spoon, "The Underdog"
 
 
not her again
24 February 2008 @ 06:09 pm
Well, thank God I put in for three days' vacation next week; I can use that time to recuperate from a sinus infection.

Damn, damn, damn. Because God knows I didn't want to do anything FUN with my vacation, like going to DC to see my mom and RELAX for a few days, no. Why relax when you can become a disgusting snot-monster?

Perhaps the warm, tropical climate of DC will help me heal faster. Like sending people with tuberculosis (tuberculites? Tuberculosists? "Consumptives" is so five minutes ago) to Arizona or New Mexico. (Actually now that I think about it, breathing steam is very good for breaking up congestion in your sinus cavities and lungs. Thanks, Grandma! Unfortunately, it's February, and even in August DC is not that steamy.)

Anyway, in other news, how badly do I want to be in Australia right now so I could watch their version of "So You Think You Can Dance"? Really, really badly. YouTube is very much not equal to the task. And - maybe towers_of_ivory or any other Ozzies can answer a few questions for me: 1) Why is, like, pretty much every number danced to techno or electronica or some variation thereof? (Or Celine Dion, but she's all over the US version, too; I'm sure she's got some sort of clause in her contract with the devil.) Or an electronic remix of "Big Spender"? What was with that? I do not remember so much drum 'n' bass in the oriinal. Is this the work of Kylie Minogue? 2) What is "boogaloo"? Is that secretly an Aboriginal word that was somehow appropriated for the best sequel title ever? Is this a genuine dance style? Or are the SYTYCDOz producers just inventing new dance genres from whole cloth? Because to me, boogaloo looks like a strange combination of funk and early 80s hip-hop, with a little popping and locking thrown in, and also everyone is wearing zoot suits. Which - don't get me wrong, I think it's time for the zoot suit to make a comeback.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to extract another 2.3 pounds of mucus from my sinus cavities, and have some soup.

Um, those two things are not related, except through the vagaries of chronology. It's tomato soup.
 
 
Feeling: sickcongested
Hearing: Sia, "Breathe Me"
 
 
not her again
22 February 2008 @ 08:32 pm
OMG, are y'all watching the hot mess that is "Pussycat Dolls Presents: Girlicious"? (And also: what's with the dubious grammar in the title? And also also: "Girlicious"? Really?)

I don't know for how long I'll be able to stand it, because my tolerance for Robin Antin encouraging girls to be sexy (read: cleavage), confident (read: cleavage), sexily confident (read: cleavage), and confidently sexy (read: picking up a pattern here...) is severely limited. But for now, it is such an awesome trainwreck.

Also, I love how watching five separate groups do their - auditions/performances/whatever the hell they were? - really demonstrates the limited range of, well, the entire concept. Like, the choreography. There are maybe 10 discrete moves: 1) the sexy walk; 2) the "raise your arm over your head and push your breasts out without moving your head, sexily"; 3) the sexy crouch; 4) the sexy stand up; 5) the sexy hip twitch; 6) the sexy hip swivel; 7) the sexy hip swirl; 8) the sexy "these are my breasts" hand gesture; 9) the sexy "this is my ass" hand gesture; 10) the... nope, nine is all I got.

I mean, seriously - let's not even go into the ridiculously narrow definition of "sexy" promoted by this show, because we'll be here all night and most of the weekend. But, like, mix it up a little, my God!

My favorite part was maybe when this very full-of-herself (you know, the sophomoric "I'm 20 and I'm smarter than everyone else in history" type) girl went on about how she was so sophisticated because, "I've lived on over five continents." So that would be, what, six? Or did you also live in Antarctica?

AND THEN SHE GOT SENT HOME.

Here is the best thing about Girlicious: I was in an incredibly foul mood this evening because a) I am getting sick and I would like very much for that not to be the case, and while I enjoy having a throaty Claudia Black-esque voice, when I wake up and I've gone right through Lauren Bacall and on to Louis Armstrong, that's a problem; 2) work was long and boring and culminated in this meeting in which one of my coworkers - who I usually like - described something as "so fashion", "fashion-forward", "trendy", and "trend-forward" FOR APPROXIMATELY ONE BILLION YEARS and then my head hit the table (not really. My head hitting the table, I mean. It did take one billion years, but it was a small meeting and everyone would have noticed - which reminds me of the one time I fell asleep in class, it was senior year and I was taking this evening intro-to-archaeology class and I was running on approximately one hour of sleep and the class was boring and the prof was showing a video that day and I could not keep my head off the desk, and then all of a sudden the lights were on, so embarrassing; but now I am getting way off-piste); iii) it was cold and slushy and disgusting out, and the sidewalks were nigh impassable (see above re: slushy), and there were too many people everywhere being annoying and getting in my way; four) God damn but for a week during which I got Monday off, this week was unacceptably long; but I came home and had mac & cheese and watched Girlicious and it actually cheered me up!

Here's the wosrt thing about Girlicious: the eponymous pre-fab girl group is, according to Robin Antin, what "every girl will want to be." Aaaaaand my ovaries just pulled their eject levers and burst out of my body with tiny, desperate cries of fear. Ballistic Reproductive Organ Syndrome - ask me how!
 
 
Feeling: fullfull
Hearing: Interpol, "NYC"
 
 
not her again
My confused, terrified revulsion: LET ME SHOW YOU IT.

So, um, apparently there is this new product available called "Fizzix". It is, and I quote, "A new yogurt with intense fizzy flavors." (Actually, there's probably supposed to be an exclamation point after that, judging by how excited the kids in the commercials are; but it's taking all my strength not to rewind my dinner all, "Alanna's meals: the greatest hits" so punctuation will have to fall by the wayside.)

Seriously? This is, like, carbonated yogurt? This is what we're doing now? Guys, there is a reason they don't package pop rocks with your Yoplait, and that is because THAT IS DISGUSTING. YOGURT IS CREAMY. IT SHOULD NOT BE FIZZY. YOU CANNOT MIX THOSE TWO TEXTURES. (EXCEPT IN AN EGG CREAM. BUT FIZZY YOGURT IS NOT AN EGG CREAM. IT IS NOT EVEN CLOSE TO AN EGG CREAM. IT'S LIKE POURING DIET COKE INTO A GLASS OF MILK AND CALLING IT AN EGG CREAM. DAMMIT, THIS IS SO UPSETTING THAT I'VE GONE PERMANENTLY INTO ALL-CAPS, EVEN IN MY PARENTHETICAL ASIDES. AARGH. HOW DO YOU STOP IT. CAPSLOCK OFF! LOWERCASE! LOWErca - okay.)

I am going to be over here in the corner, under this blanket, until Fizzix GOES AWAY. Okay? You hear me, Fizzix? There's my wallet - I won't cancel my credit cards for a week. Look and I didn't eat this chocolate bar from Vosges yet. You can have it. You can have everything - just for God's sake LEAVE ME ALONE!

P.S. If any of you are brave enough to actually try Fizzix and send me a report, I will - well, pick your prize. You can't have my wallet or the chocolate bar unless you can pry them away from Fizzix, but anything else.
 
 
Feeling: sickgonna vomit
Hearing: The Felice Brothers, "Roll On Arte"