ten

Even if this year wasn't spectacular emotionally or professionally or any of that other wanky shit, it was pretty good for signifiers of artistic taste.  And if Facebook has taught us anything, it's that you're only as good as the things you like, right?

Favorite songs of 2010:
I spent a good two months listening only to acoustic stuff (I am the child of hippie parents), but eventually I came back around to the godless ways of electric instruments.  Despite being a Houston band, I never got to see Indian Jewelry play live, something I plan to remedy in 2011.  And I know the Beach House album was everyone's favorite of the year way back in January, but to be honest, my only exposure to it came over Thanksgiving when I heard "Norway" in a bar on the Upper East Side.  And since then I've listened to it approximately 15 times a day.  So it gets a spot on the list.

Phosphorescent - The Mermaid Parade
Warpaint - Undertow
Phantogram - Mouthful of Diamonds
Massive Attack - Paradise Circus
Interpol - Lights
Indian Jewelry - Excessive Moonlight
Beach House - Norway
Pacific Ocean Fire - You Were A Boxer
Hey!  A handy mixtape!

Favorite movies:
Netflix Instant improved my quality of life approximately ten-fold (data not shown), so I didn't have much use for "the cinema". I'm pretty sure The Town was the only movie I saw all year, so... Seriously though, it was great. You can keep making gritty dramas about downtrodden blue-collar Bostonians forced into a life of crime and I will continue to love them and hiss into whoever's ear is closest that that's Copley Square and I've been to that Au Bon Pain.

Favorite books:
My library card's been getting a lot of use lately, along with the "pay fines online" button on the HPL website. So much so that the very sweet librarian at the Montrose branch now gives me an extra four weeks when I check out. Delinquency has its perks.
Jennifer Egan - A Visit From The Goon Squad
Sam Lipsyte - The Ask
Sloane Crosley - How Did You Get This Number
Jaron Lanier - You Are Not A Gadget

So there's that. In sum, this year could have been worse. The next could be better. At this precise moment, this is all the emotional equivalent of a warm washcloth. I call it lethargic Zen.

reacclimating to texas is tough.  a week in new york is like a foreign immersion program and now people here walk too slowly, drive too nicely.

is the anticipation is sweeter than the experience?  is it possible to feel at home in a place you've never lived?  can one obtain unpasteurized apple cider in this day and age?  have i packed too many pairs of shoes?


tomorrow, tomorrow, and the next 11 days.

happy halloween

a long, long time ago, i watched some television talk show host interview some male actor about some upcoming movie.  as always, there was a clip.  obviously, the details of this have been lost in the mists of my memory, but the important bits were practically burned into my brain: there was a creepy guy; he walks up to another guy and says something to the effect of 'i'm in your house right now'; second guy is in disbelief and calls his own house; creepy guy's voice comes through on the other end, while he's still standing there.

this scared the shit out of me.

the smile on the creepy guy's face, the being in two places at once, all of it.  if you asked me what terrified me most, i would probably probably try to describe this scene.  years later i even tried to google what movie it came from, but all i had to go on was basically 'SCARY' in flashing neon lights, so that was fruitless.  then one day last month, i stumbled upon it, that very clip on youtube. it was Lost Highway, by david lynch.

of course it was.

this movie came out in 1997.  it has haunted me for thirteen years.  i watched it last night, because finally here was something guaranteed to be worthy of halloween, and i will admit that i understood not a bit of it.  but i was still terrified.  the fact that it makes no sense only makes it scarier.  as i sat in my chair i thought robert blake and his kabuki makeup would appear outside the glass patio door at any moment.  it was an irrational fear that i can only compare to my experiences in iowa this past fourth of july, which is also distantly david lynch-related, but that's a story for another day.

if that doesn't convince you of its quality, it was also richard pryor's last film.  so there's that.

better than waterboarding

torture is gazing at this:

while eating a lunch of this:

only four weeks, and i have a date with a pound of pastrami and my favorite egyptian..
["why would you go on vacation to new york?  who would do that?"
"i would."
"i'm sorry, it's been a long time since we've talked.  i forgot you were weird."]

alternative careers, part two

if i were to pursue what my boss believes my outfits look like:

- secretary
- chef
- member of the latin kings

another day, another john cage quote

[Five years later, when Schoenberg asked me whether I would devote my life to music, I said, “Of course.” After I had been studying with him for two years, Schoenberg said, “In order to write music, you must have a feeling for harmony.” I explained to him that I had no feeling for harmony. He then said that I would always encounter an obstacle, that it would be as though I came to a wall through which I could not pass. I said, “In that case I will devote my life to beating my head against that wall.”]

happy first day of fall.  if anyone would be so kind as to airmail me a box of bartlett's apple cider donuts, i will gladly repay you in queso.

wildcat... wild.. cat

boat shoes

no, but i am dating one.  (he thought The Preppy Handbook was for real.)

(via)

see also: Trust Fund Babies, a southern mutation of the above.  predilections: salmon-colored polos, khaki shorts and flip flops, asteroid-sized college rings, helmet hair.  natural habitat: the gallant knight.

vintage umass

from the UMass Special Collections & University Archive

nine one

a girl in one of my classes, lo these many years ago, once told me that on the first day of the month it was good luck to wake up and say 'white rabbit'.  as i understood this, it had to be the first thing out of your mouth.  since then i've half-heartedly tried to remember to do it as the days creep towards the 30th, but if it does stick in my brain, that morning i will invariably drop my keys in a puddle or forget my carefully-packed lunch, and so i begin a new month with 'shit!'.  today was no different.

time lapse

[Money is like gasoline during a road trip. You don’t want to run out of gas on your trip, but you’re not doing a tour of gas stations. You have to pay attention to money, but it shouldn’t be about the money.]



- tim o'reilly

dogsitting...

this time, in a treehouse.  her name is maddie and she is better than the my previous charges times infinity.  true story (albeit a longish and strange one): we're from the same town.

waiting by the mail box

part of my 'inheritance' from my grandparents is a 1960's polaroid land camera, the kind that folds out like an accordian and uses the old peel-apart film. i was already chomping at the bit for it to arrive in the mail, but yesterday i found one of the new models at my favorite thrift store.  for three dollars.  so now i anxiously await the film i ordered to arrive so i can try this baby out.  in the relative cool of some morning i will embark on a photo hunt (not to be confused with the kind found at charlie's or other such establishments).

i know i've previously professed my love for poladroid, but just like a kindle will never replace a real book, making a digital image will never quite compare to holding (and blowing on) an instant photo.

why i don't swim in the ocean

exhibit A.

(via)

exhibit B.

windy

 

believe the hype: chicago is pretty okay.  if it weren't for that one thing, i'd be renting a uhaul right now.

 

when i told the woman panhandling on michigan ave that i didn't have any cash, she replied, "have a good weekend!"  midwestern friendliness.

knowing which door to open has its rewards.

 

did i take the el to wicker park so i could walk by championship vinyl?  would you expect anything less?

 

everywhere you go, there you are.

 i'm composing an ode to public transport.  also, a realization: houston is a city for people who don't like cities.

caving

call it laziness, or streamlining, or whatever it is those crazy kids are doing, but i got me a tumblr too.


crescent rolls!

old habits

 

I guess I'm collecting again.

a la spinal tap

yesterday i encountered a pair of men's dress loafers abandoned in the grass outside ben taub.  today, there were pink flip flops left sad and lonely on the sidewalk. conclusion: triple-digit temperatures are causing spontaneous combustion that incinerates all but the hardiest of leather and rubber.

bauhaus-esque fascist snoozefest

from "I'm Comic Sans, Asshole":


[People love me. Why? Because I'm fun. I'm the life of the party. I bring levity to any situation. Need to soften the blow of a harsh message about restroom etiquette? SLAM. There I am. Need to spice up the directions to your graduation party? WHAM. There again. Need to convey your fun-loving, approachable nature on your business' website? SMACK. Like daffodils in motherfucking spring.]

my bitterness towards comic sans began in middle school, when my mother forced me to scroll through every font available in Microsoft Publisher until she found the perfect one to complement her sunday school handouts.  inexplicably, she always came back to it.  because what says 'fun-loving' and 'spiced up' more than a prayer card with 'bless me father, for i have sinned' in jaunty type?

rofl

slowly trying to wean myself off of learning about the world through the internet and move towards reading about it in books.  how quaint!

had i moved to manhattan and majored in english

[I had worn a black wool beret out of the house to see if it was something i could pull off, but had taken it off in the store and stuffed it in my pocket because it made me feel like I was wearing a sandwich board that said THIS GIRL IS WEARING A HAT.]


- Carlene Bauer, Not That Kind Of Girl


reading this book gave me a picture of what my life might possibly be like in an alternate universe.

flavors of childhood

 - teaberry gum.  my mother always had a pack in her purse that i would fish for as we traveled the aisles of the grocery store.  someone told me recently it tastes like pepto-bismol, but i beg to differ.  whatever, more for me.

- stella d'oro anisette sponge cookies.  delicious by themselves, better dunked in tea or coffee, wretched when stale.  [sugar-coated fennel seeds, the kind that they leave by the door of indian restaurants instead of starlight mints, are sweet and anise-y enough to recreate a little bit of the cookie flavor, and are currently in prime snacking position in my desk drawer.]

- peanut butter twix.  i am forever indebted to whoever brought these back.

remnant

hello, i'm johnny cash

regaling you, dear reader, with stories of my recent travels will have to be postponed.  san antonio is calling, where i will reenact highlights from The House on South East Street while eating these puffy tacos everyone talks about.

if there's any way to encapsulate the past week, this is it.

getting older

[I was talking with Mother. I suggested she take a trip West to visit the relatives. I said, "You’ll have a good time." She was quick to reply. "Now, John, you know perfectly well that I’ve never enjoyed having a good time."]

john cage - indeterminacy


this reminds me of my Grammy.

alternative careers

- ballerina in dance company for the flat-footed/above-average in height
- professional appreciator
- Ethel Merman impersonator

self-portrait

did i say life was too hard?  that was an unfortunate bit of hyperbole.  i could try to explain, verbalize what's been churning around in my brain for the last 24 hours - or six years, it's all the same, really - but it won't work.  too much noise becomes silence.  instead i got drunk on a tuesday.

song for a day when life is too hard

	Anois - Happy Holiday
	Found at skreemr.com

straightforward

 

 'look at banner, michael!'

pondering

i never meant to cause you any sorrow

did you know?  the mayor of minneapolis has named april 3rd as First Avenue day, in honor of the music club made famous by prince in Purple Rain.  sean and i both felt this was an occasion to commemorate one of mankind's (or at least minnesota's) greatest cinematic achievements, so naturally we devised a drinking game, with this as our starting point.


drink one when...
- anyone refers to The Kid
- they show the outside of First Avenue
- prince rides his motorcycle
- anyone wears a scarf
- anyone wears purple
- there's a beatin'
- mr. and mrs. prince get it on
- apollonia wears a single earring
- morris calls jerome an 'onion head'


drink two when...
- 'you must cleanse yourself in the waters of lake minnetonka'

by the end of it you'll either a. want to incorporate more ruffles into your wardrobe or b. understand that prince changing his name to a squiggle was a logical and obvious choice.

fool

i am anticipating a luxurious weekend filled with debonair hedonism.  also, i really like my new haircut, so that's boosting my mood.  (do you know how often that happens?  i'll tell you: not very.)

blue

my parents are visiting.  i'm pretty sure they're getting tired of my lack of cable tv, relying only on phones for access to the outside world.  my dad asked if there's a place around here that would put on rachel maddow; i told him he has better odds of finding a unicorn.

jamz

church music

[dropkick murphys at warehouse live]

this isn't Crazy Cat Lady Syndrome; i only make friends with felines that invite themselves into my apartment.

houston summer has melted my collegiate pride.  and i have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy.

quiet

he wears a smile; everybody run

[When we were shooting the pilot for Twin Peaks, we had a set dresser named Frank Silva.  Frank was never destined to be in Twin Peaks, never in a million years.  But we were shooting in Laura Palmer's home and Frank was moving some furniture around in her room[...]And this picture came to me of Frank in the room.  I went running in and I asked Frank, "Are you an actor?" And he said, "Well, yes, I happen to be," because everyone in L.A. is an actor.  And maybe everyone in the world.  So I said, "Frank, you're going to be in this scene."
   We did a pan shot of the room, twice without Frank and then one time with Frank frozen at the base of the bed.  But I didn't know what it was for or what it meant.
   That evening, we went downstairs and we were shooting Laura Palmer's mother on the couch.  She was lying there in sadness and torment.  Suddenly she sees something in her mind's eye and bolts upright, screaming.  Sean, the camera operator, had to turn the wheels and follow her face as she bolted up.  And it looked to me like he did a perfect job.  So I said, "Cut - perfect, beautiful!"  And Sean said, "No, no, no.  It's not."
  "What is it?"
  "There was someone reflected in the mirror."
  "Who was reflected in the mirror?"
  "Frank was reflected in the mirror."]

 - David Lynch, in Catching the Big Fish, on how the (terrifying and nightmare-inducing) character of Bob came to be

bored

friday afternoon, alone in the lab.  waiting for one experiment to finish, so the weekend can begin.  perusing TweetsofOld, 'extracted tidbits from old newspapers'.  my favorites:

[The New York Mail reports that cultured Boston people describe fish-balls as "piscatorial globes." KY 1883]

[The latest slang is "slim." A slim is a dude, a slimette is a dudine. KY 1883]

[Mr. John Hieber, of Etna, has had quite a full experience in the way of being shot Tuesday last. PA 1885]

in future, please refer to me as 'slimette'.  or 'dudine'; i can't decide.

mini

 

where do i find one of these?!

[having Australian/British friends has opened my mind to the idea of eating Cadbury chocolate year-round, not just at Easter; i highly recommend Top Deck.]

lcd soundsystem - new york i love you but you're bringing me down

voluminous

[Stylish 20-something woman to overweight pug breathing heavily: Well, Winifred, you're out of breath because you're out of shape. (pause) No, you're not fat. You're voluminous. (pause) Yes, I am aware it's not all your fault. Mummy likes to watch you eat powder doughnuts. (pause) Pugs that look like they have a coke habit are very funny for mummy, yes they are.]

via Overheard in New York

ah well

when life hands you lemons... you push them aside in favor of unlimited brisket at the barbecue cookoff.

shock

apparently it can be dry in houston.  it's been so static-y lately that i realized i unconsciously fist-bump every metal object in the vicinity so i get shocked on my knuckles and not my ever-so-sensitive jack the pumpkin king fingers.

cheap and cheerful

let's talk about how i'm really an eighty-year-old woman: my thrift store extravaganza yesterday was so successful that i cannot help but share it with the internet.  a $200 leather skirt, still with the tags?  $4.  a silk puffy vest in my favorite shade of yellow?  $2.  at buffalo exchange, i even traded half a bag of my old crap for a brand new kenneth cole dress, previously $150.  aside from the smell of mothballs, it was an excellent day.


wow.  i just reread that and i think i'm one bottle of metamucil away from assisted living.


whatever, this way my new clothing desire is satisfied and i can put the rest of my money toward a summer trip to rome.  sono molto pratico, quando ho bisogno di essere.


*while i was shopping in sand dollar, an ad for frank's red hot came on the radio.. apparently their slogan is "i put that sh- on everything"?  while frank's on pizza is my newest food obsession, isn't that a bit...edgy for a station that normally plays delilah?

cryptic

i have a plan.  for my future, i mean.  because i have other, lesser plans too, like finding a way to acquire this vivienne westwood ring because it reminds me of beyonce's bionic hand thingy, and who doesn't want a bionic hand?  (mission accomplished, by the way.  thank you ebay for cheap knockoffs.)

ANYWAY.  this plan of mine is in motion.  so far, so good.   any more detail than that, however, i'm loathe to even put into words because despite my 27 years on this earth, i've never really shaken the childhood fear that talking about something i want automatically makes it Not Happen.  [see also: magical thinking; superstition; complete irrationality]

sigh.  of course all this forward thinking and weighing of options comes just when my sister arrives for her annual visit, when i should be showing her the sights (there are none) and eating massive quantities of mexican food (we have been).  i suppose i can multitask.

around town

  

i've killed all the cacti i ever owned.

[outside the camera exchange]

 

in texas it's one word.

[antique store on westheimer]

  

doin' mah homework.

[agora]

[intro to technical writing at HCC is my latest endeavor.. perpetual student of something or other.]

[[clearly i'm enamored with having a camera, at last.]]