Thursday, December 20, 2012

Oh My God We're Back Again

Yeah. Yeah.
It's been a while.
Whole lotta excuses.
Not enough writing.
It's been so long.
I feel like the door knocker in Labyrinth that has the knocker in his mouth until Sarah takes it out.

As you can see not much has changed.
Still referencing Labyrinth at every turn.

But things HAVE changed.

Make new friends.
Keep the old
One is silver (sing it with me!)
And the other gold.

New flat! I moved out of my old, decrepit Misfit Greyhound Manor and am currently residing in Flat of the Misfit Greys. Riverwest! I can walk to get coffee! A lovely tradition my bf and I have taken to on Sunday mornings
WAIT> WHAT!?!?!?!?!
A BF!?!?!
Frankie say Relax. I will get to it in a minute.

I can walk to bars! Bars I actually go to and want to patron!
A food co-op!
A video co-op!

AND! As an added bonus, my great-grandmother used to live on this very street! LIKE TWO BLOCKS AWAY!
If you knew about my family's obsession with former Milwaukee residences, you would understand why that is in all caps.
It's real.
I'm real.

Like I totally have a bf.
And I actually like him!
A lot.
He is cute, smart, funny and good at things and makes up songs about everyday objects much like I do.
He likes ska, but not everyone is perfect.
And he seems to dig my friends and I dig his!
Too much cuteness right now.
Let's dial it back a notch, kids.

I interviewed for a new position today! WHAT!?!?
I actually REALLY want the job. I think it would be awesome/exciting/busy and expand my professional base.
I know.
Where is the snarky tall girl with total apathy about her job.
Look guys.
You can only write "fun and flirty" "sassy and stylish" "cozy and comfy" so many times before all the Cat Harvest sweatshirts start to look alike.

Well the news can't all be amazing and full of CAPS and #HASHTAGS
School is challenging. Did you know that I had a breakdown in my professor's office? That was awesome. Like a full on, almost sobbing breakdown.
I like to keep it classy.
But. I've learned I"m fairly interested in horror and The Walking Dead is a really good show.

I still love Cheetos, wine, carbs.
New to this list: pad thai and dark and stormys and manhattans. Seriously.
I could eat it almost everyday.
But honestly.
How classy is that list?
It's okay mate, you don't have to say it.

My dogs are still ridiculous.
Topper=lovable grumpy old man (except he's not really old)
Kessie= spry, sassy older woman.
I am contemplating starting a blog about them and their antics.
Mostly the blog would be making up songs about them.
Because that talent needs to be shared.
Be on the lookout of a Topper-fied version of Sympathy for the Devil.
Oh, it's in me.

It's with sadness I announce that I did not do ANYTHING for Hanukkah this year.
Whereas last year Hanukkah (and the Wineauxrah!) were the highlights of my holiday season, this year Christmas/New Years really has to bring it.
New Years will for sure.

If I had a functioning laptop/computer, I would link to Emerson, Lake & Palmer's "I Believe In Father Christmas."
Cos it's snowing and I just heard almost all of King Crimson's debut album, and I might just become someone who's really into prog. Just saying. (If you can't make that connection on your own, Greg Lake was one of the founding members of King Crimson, but left to join the eponymous Emerson, Lake, and Palmer--Law firm or rock band?)

Thursday night on WMSE is quite possibly the best radio in all of the land.

So this is a totally selfish ME ME ME blog.
But what blogs aren't?

Saturday, June 2, 2012

On Being a Mature Lady

A slew of events have happened recently that have proven to no one but me that I am not only one of the classiest broads I know, but also one of the most mature.

Saw GSC recently and while there was some odd eye contact exchanged, I did NOT act like a neurotic mess! I acted like my charming, and maybe a little tipsy self.
AND! I wasn't all womp womp at the end of the night. LeSigh.

I have had the opportunity to "hang out" with various suitors and I have turned them down! While having lines is extremely beneficial at times (32 is just as much of a time as 31 is), one rarely has control of the situation.

H&M guy is very cute and funny, but it's always this prolonged texting for a week to see if I wanna "hang." Plus the hangs are always good! But I had my dogs to tend to and maybe MAYBE this new boy I'm kinda/sorta seeing had something to do with it. But I'm gonna chalk it up to maturity.

Cold Pizza was my other offer. I think his name says it all. So last night after being all cool, calm and collected and saying hi an what not, he asks if I want to dance. Being a mature lady, I know where this is going.
Or dance with you.
He danced up on me anyway (gross!) and during last call I literally had to tell him that I wasn't going to go home with him. Or that I couldn't.
"Why?" he says.
Do you really want me to tell you why? Because you aren't very good at any aspect of hangs and AND YOU NEVER LEAVE.
Rather than being a meanie, I told him I just couldn't and RadPanda whisked me away.

Outside I chastised a guy who claimed he was 5'9" (it's on his license! It must be true!) when he was really 5'7" or 5'8".
Everything counts in large amounts.

As RadPanda and I rounded the corner to head to the corner we found this poor boy sitting by himself in the grass, clearly wasted/lost. Being mature ladies we literally talk to him like he's a little boy lost at the fair.
We offer rides.
We offer texts as his phone is about to die.
We find out he's in the circus (seriously) and that his name is Tyler.
A random guy tells him to take us up on our offer to drive him home.
He tells us he lives in Waukesha.
At that moment I made an executive decision to just let the poor bloke stay at my house. Where i knew he was too drunk/injured to rape me in my sleep.
Yes. I think about these things.

I also apologized to him for having a messy bathroom AS HE WAS VOMITING IN MY TOILET.
Mature and classy.

Monday, May 28, 2012

There's Just So Many Things...I Waaaaaaaaannnnnnnaaaaaa Say.

Nothing like using a Peter Cetera lyric for your title.

I'm just trying to get back into this.
Because it's summer.
And people tell me I'm good at it.
And I need to hone my writing skills.

Last night was a bit rough. But I got through it.
withOUT meds.
withOUT wine.
WITH a friend via text.
WITH a book that I still haven't decided if it's good or not, although it did make me think about my single/slorey lifestyle.
WITH some journaling.

And so.
Here we are.
Non-academic writing for the first time, well, probably since the last blog post.
And let's be real. It's not like my writing is all that academic when it's supposed to be.
A consistent remark on my papers that I get almost A's on.
Oh wells.

Sometimes its fun being dramatic.
Sometimes its fun keeping secrets, even if they're from yourself.
Sometimes boys are dicks.
Sometimes they are really funny and maybe nice.
Sometimes your friends can be dicks.
Most times your friends are super awesome and ridick.
Sometimes its (or is it it's? Where is Gilberto when you need him?) fun to do lady things.

Favorite lady things:
cute knickers
eyebrow maintenance
crushes (but not really)
Tori Amos' "Scarlett's Walk"
Neko Case
boxed wine
cheap champers

Sometimes I wonder if I'm trying too hard, or not hard enough.
Horse apiece
Six of one, half a dozen of the other.
Fast and loose or close to the vest?

I will never understand Brazilian waxes.

My dogs bring me an infinite amount of joy.
REALIZATION: If I wasn't single I wouldn't have two dogs.
And I probably wouldn't have the infinite amount of joy they can bring me just by snoring or burping in my face.
Cos my dogs are super classy.
Just like their mum.

Everyone has a fatal flaw.
Mine seems to crop up on the third date or hangout or whatever we're calling these things these days.
Fall off the horse.
Get back on the horse.

I'm thinking of getting a sleeve of Todd Rundgren's Something/Anything album cover on my left forearm. This will happen upon graduating or getting published.
Graduation will most likely happen sooner since I'm not even trying to get published at this point.

Remember when I wrote fiction?
Remember when I used to go out every weekend?
Might I be good at non-fiction writing?
Based upon actual events.
Ripped from the headlines.

I still don't understand poetry. Why be so succinct with words and grammar and syntax? Why not just ramble? Is this an either/or thing? You either get poetry or you don't?
Home Burial by Robert Frost.

Bruises from your dogs are way less fun than bruises from sex.
But still better than bruises from leukemia.

My type A is screaming to get out.
But my type Z is louder.

Topper needs routine.
I think I do too.

I mowed my tiny city yard yesterday and am sore beyond belief.
Bruises on hips.
Scratches on legs.
Muscles ache.
Blister on my thumb.
"Maybe get a blister on your little finger. Maybe get a blister on your thumb," Dire Straits.

I wish communal living wasn't looked down upon.
I wish my friends would all live with me.
It'd be like 1920s Paris every goddamn night.
I wish I was a little bit taller.

Step on in home rehab complete:
Tile for the foyer has been purchased.
My ceiling keeps falling down.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Today At Work: Homeless Dating Site Business Proposal

An email thread from today...

Subject: RE: Cawfee Tawk
I think I’ll be glued to my desk for a while still… I do want to read this guy’s stuff though.

Any pictures of homeless men? (this is going to be my big money making site!)--“Matching homeless men with lovely ladies since ‘12”
WARNING: All homeless men have been lightly washed with wet naps and sprayed with Axe.
We can go on photo shoots at Bradford Beach.  Get them to take their shirts off.

I like to imagine that Random Hobos are circling your house, constantly looking for a way in. Maybe there’s a nest in the chimney?
LIKE. You have to set a trap with Basic cigarettes and a cup of McDonald’s coffee.
I feel like children shouldn’t go visit people in jail, unless it’s a parent. Is that elitist?

Rehab is different. Or is it? I don’t know. I’m all mixed up.
Let’s just talk about wet-napping homeless dudes.
I think they’re scheduling a Scared Straight tour of our department for next month.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------We’re exploiting these homeless dudes to facilitate ladies’ pleasure.
We should make sure to include that on the site.
That will also go on all the business cards.
Make sure to put “pleasure” in a fancy cursive font like our wall quote. It makes it supes CLASSY.

Okay, so say a lovely lady wants to meet up with a random hobo. How will she contact him? Leave a note in a tree?--
That’s where the “service” aspect comes in.  We’re the hobo-to-lonely lady middlemen.
Hobos are rated in cigarettes instead of stars.
So it’s like Jessica does with greyhounds. Lonely ladies tell you what they want and you’ll show the lady three hobos who fit that description. And maybe a bonus one that you think might work.

I think I’m catching on.
These hobos need homes.
That’s basically what okcupid does.

But with more hobos.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Nerding Out: Quotables

Let me first just tell you about the day I had, which seems to be culminating into a night/tomorrow of insomnia.

I've actually never really had insomnia before, but after tossing and turning for a half an hour and with the foster pups up and about as well, I figured I might as well get up and document the wondrous day I've had.

And I'm not even being sarcastic.

First of all work was fine. I decided to listen to my sad bastard mix entitled "Quoatables" because I have quotes from all the songs posted in my cubicle at work. I like quotes and I like music.
I do what I want.

But here is a fun fact. If you're not all that depressed, the songs can kind of be uplifting and awesome and full of nostalgia. Or at least fake nostalgia. Or maybe displaced nostalgia.

And yes. That is what the majority of this blog will be about.

On my way to class local radio was killing me with commercials or weird hip-hop so I decided to go old school and put on 'KLH. And boy. I couldn't believe how much I was freaking out.


Plus Neil Young was one of the first artists I could consistently play songs by on the ol' guit-fiddle.

Hey Joe/Jimi Hendrix

I freaking love this song. Jimi Hendrix was one of the first records I remember thinking "OH MY GOD THIS IS VINYL THIS IS SO RAD" and Hey Joe was on there. And then Hey Joe was featured in another 90s classic, Empire Records. Which I probably can quote too well as witnessed on Monday evening in Third Cinema class. Sometimes I forget my pop culture acumen has a very limited audience.

Hey Jude/The Beatles

Seriously. Do you even know how much I love this song? ITS MY NAMESAKE.
Okay. So we didn't necessarily rule anything. But Prude is my oldest/newest bestie and favorite wannabe Jew and favorite shiksa and favorite allthethings.

A little background on why this song is so awesome for me:
Listening to the oldies station whilst growing up. I was maybe 9 or 10. And believe it or not, I always wasn't this awesome. So the crazed shout-screaming was on and to me I just though it sounded like the grittiest, purest rock EVER.
And I couldn't believe my dad was listening to it.
And then when he told me it was the BEATLES. The cutesy fab four that all my aunts liked, well I just couldn't believe it. He then informed me that the Beatles were pretty awesome especially after their cutesy fab four stage (and to be honest, I think they're pretty awesome in their cutesy fab four stage, but that is a whole other nerd issue).

I also wonder how many times I can use the phrase "cutesy fab four."

And. I kind of think it's the greatest song to play air piano to.

So upon finishing this triptych of awesome I called Dear Prudence up and told her of the shenanigans that had just ensued inside of Azure Ray (my car). I was probably talking at my elevated, high pitch squeak that I presume people find totally endearing and not annoying at all (totes jk people. I hate the way my voice sounds and I'm truly sorry it's so whiny and high most of the time), as I'm traipsing across campus. Yes I was one of those.

And then class ensues.
Modern Lit Theory where I feel it's Plan H-ers (my track) against the world.
Rather than talking about the actual THEORIES and how they can be applied to any one of our interests, let's instead talk about how Marx makes us FEEL.

Or that your feelings were hurt by Adorno & Horkheimer.
I admit it.
I am a pretentious asshole.

To quote Mugatu.
I feel like I'm taking crazy pills:

Luckily I drove a friend home and I got to decompress a little bit.

Back to my original ideas for this post.
1. I realize these blogs get super long and rambly. And I'm sorry. I love run-on sentences as witnessed by my professors incessant comments on my response paper "Reads like a run-on." I clearly don't have an editing function in my brain.
2. It's literally 4am. I am, most likely not going to bed. I got five hours of sleep last night and 4.5 tonight. So give a spinnie a break.
3. I've made up a new word: spinnie. It's like a spinster but full of fun and ridick and awesome, but maybe a little bit of cliche too. At least I don't have cats.

So. I've made this mix entitles "Quoatables" as mentioned earlier.
Sometimes I play it when I wanna suffocate within the Bell Jar, and let's be real. February has been a real doozy.
Is it the leap day? Is it late onset of Seasonal Affective Disorder? Is it the severe lack of snow? I don't know. But in can end at any time.
Just sayin'.

For whatever reason, I am total sucker for Sad Bastard music. I love it.
I can't get enough.
And since I'm more than slightly neurotic and tend to listen to these songs on repeat for hours on end, I thought (THOUGHT being the word) I would try to quantify me obsession, especially since I was in a good mood yesterday and they made me all oddly warm and fuzzy inside.
And we all know how much I love feelings.
Shit might get a little real here.

Stop telling me the right way to go...

Okay. So. Full disclosure. This was kind of my break-up jam of the summer. I listened to this incessantly and I knew I would be okay. And awesome.

Plus, it opens with a van door shutting, which I think is kind of amazing. I don't know. I just like it.

And this live version is delighful and subdued. And I think Mates of State are absolutely adorbs and I think the drummer is cute and nerdy.

So this song reminds me of picking up friends in the cavalier (OH HOW I MISS THAT CAR) and them not judging me or complaining that this song was on repeat on the way too and from our destination.

It's complicated when you gravitate towards yourself...

I have to say, I wasn't a huge fan of SBTRKT. A friend would incessantly post their songs on FB and I was always quite meh about them.

During the summer of Hot Messery (as the summer of 2011 shall hitherto be referred to), this was a featured song of the day on NPR.
I loved it.
The narrator just consistently makes bad choices. And knows he will continue to do so.
And the rest of the album has grown on me. Just an FYI. Not a favorite but something I can dig whilst at work.

In secret we believe, we're nothing nothing nothing that we need...

Yes. More Mates of State. Part of me wants to be cynical and wonder when they will get divorced. The other part of me wonders what that must be like, to have a partner that you want/enjoy working with/being around incessantly. AND YET. They write these great songs about suburban disillusionment and consumerism. I don't know. I love it. Although my friend Ables doesn't think this song is that depressing, but I think it's about people giving up and being like, Meh. I guess. And although I am sure we all give up someday, I guess I'm just not ready yet? (it probably doesn't help that my head is filled with Marxist theory right now and it's culminating into this "do what you love/damn the man/save the empire philosophy--wow. Second Empire Records reference...)
To quote Velvet Goldmine:

(side note: I need to buy this movie on DVD. I have it on VHS. I also own casette tapes.)

Do you still feel younger than you thought you would by now...

Yes. I do still feel younger.
But I probably act about 10 years younger than my age too.
Bascially this is your sterotypical love-lost ballad. I just want to be the one he's singing about...Do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you're there. How perfect is that? So many good lines in this gem. LeSigh. And although it's fairly depressing, I can't help but smile when I listen to it.

But I won't ever pass up a moment to tell you replacement's a myth...

This is the LAST Mates of State song, I swear! More disillusionment. More meh-relationships. I cannot, for the life of me figure out this song but it doesn't make me love it any less. Part of me thinks it could actually be about platonic friendship that is lost due to her new relationship? But I don't know. We're just a little bit lost inside our houses. We're just a little unkempt out in the streets.
I wanna be smart and write all the things.
Or maybe just less run-on sentences with more coherent thoughts.

We'll run like we're awesome. Totally genius...

Full disclosure: This song wins the prize for most plays on my iTunes.

Here's some of that fake nostalgia I was talking about. Love the imagery of this song. Love thinking it's fall and you're outside playing.

AND I think it recalls "Spirit of the Night" by Bruce Springsteen with it's cake line: Our hands are covered in cake but I swear we didn't have any. Is that a valid connection? Am I the only one who picked up on that? But Spirit in the Night is a very similar in tone and affect (no so much musically) about a group of friends getting together/getting drunk/high/laid. It's just a thought. Maybe that is too broad of a leap. I don't know. I'm not any type of music critic.

Stand in the puddle of the disco ball's glow...

I'm 90% sure there is some literary/mythological reference I'm not getting cos these guys aren't dummies. But that is the genius of it. I don't get the reference but the song is still awesome. Don't get stuck in your head. Come on be the one. AND it uses fun glam-y imagery, which I love. You're a goldmine. Who doesn't want to be told this?

Things I want:
1. slow dance with a boy of interest (i.e. not my brother or dad or cousin or bestie--somehow I missed out on this ritual)
2. be told I am a goldmine
3. be the lady michael ian black as aforementioned

Tell me it's nothing, try to convince me that I'm not drowning...

Ha. If I would have heard this song about two years ago...Well. This quoatables list would have been made then. This version is stripped down and awesome and The Civil Wars are what I listen to every morning when I first get to work. Again. It's not exactly my type of music, but I can't stop. Much like this never-ending blog post.

You were right about the end. It didn't make a difference...

First of all. I wanna wrap myself around the red, beardy goodness that is the lead singer.

Second. I listened to this song on repeat for 2.5 hours after visiting my parents. It was extremely cold out. Super was in the back seat. It was gray. And it was kind of perfect.
How can anybody know how they got to be this way...
I love it when my life foreshadows itself.
It's a recurring theme.

I am nothing without pretend, I know my faults can't live with them...

I just got into Wye Oak. It grows on you. Dreamy noise pop I think I've heard them described as? This version isn't as lush and full as the album version, but it's still rock and roll to me (yeah, that's right. I just threw down some Billy Joel lyrics whilst discussing a hipster band).

And since my life is like a movie/show/allthethings, my alarm just went off. Which I thought was kind of fitting since that was my last song!

Seriously. I can't believe I just literally told you why I love a selection of songs.
If you made it this far.
Well. I would offer you some sort of prize or something, but.
Well. That just isn't going to happen.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

I Do What I Want!

Okay okay.
Let's not all freak out.
It's a new blog.

I'm not even going to promise to try blog more.
Let's be real.
That just never happens.

I would love to say that oh-so-much has changed.
I would love to say "that it's always darkest before the dawn or some shit, right" as my bestie MD has told me.

But alas.
Let's just get the nuts and bolts out of the way:

1. Pitchers and catchers report in 11!!!!!!!!!!! days people.
And yes, I know I always say I don't put much faith in spring training cos it doesn't matter. BUT.
Did you even know that the Brewers were the NLCS Champs last year?
It's true.
We were.
And yes.
I totally should have been blogging all about it.
Fail on my part.
But it was exciting and drunken and debaucherous.

Can we please, PRETTY PLEASE make debaucherous a word.
a. I don't like that it gets the red squiggly line
b. I use it a lot
c. It basically describes my very existence.

Did you even know I got a 3.8 last semester?
Sure, it's not the 4.0 I wanted but considering the utter shite I went through last semester I will take it.
I love my classes even MORE this semester but still have the same insecurities that I have all the time and am secretly hoping this blog will strengthen my weak writing skills so I can become a world-class talking head on those pop culture shows, just like Michael Ian Black.
The reason I'm going to grad school is so I can:
a. wear jeans and blazers with elbow patches
b. bring my dog to work
c. be smarter than most people
d. watch and read things and say it's for research but it's really cos I find Christian Bale/David Bowie/Ryan Gosling/insertflavorofthemonthhere dreamy
e. maybe get published
f. be liked by my classmates even if I am the dumb one (as long as they think I'm funny and skinny RIIIIIIIGGGHHHTTTTT??????) a lady Michael Ian Black.

3. Dogs in Jammies
Here is a fun fact:
If you're down.
And troubled.
And you need a helping hand.
And nothing.
Oh nothing is going right...
Just post a picture as your status on facebook of at least one, but preferably six, greyhounds in jammies and you will get the most likes you've ever gotten.
You don't even need to say anything witty! Or smart!

4. Life in the Bell Jar
Let's be real. 2011 was mighty MIGHTY crust-ridden.
I learned that not only is lying an awesome super-power I have, but impeccable timing at break-ups is also one.
My dog died.
I had to suck it up and go on some meds to deal with my stress cos I'm not as strong and awesome as I thought I was.
I still hate feelings (even good ones, cos the neurotic pessimist in me can't just chill and listen to some Nina Simone).
I am still really good at finding/keeping besties.

5. Things I love/wanna marry (cos I refuse to end this on a downer):
a. iPhone! Yes! I still love it! I love texting (especially, shit is gonna get mega girly here, when they are from boys. swoon swoon swoon)! I love SoundHound! I love Cyanide & Happiness! I can track my period (seriously, I know I should be able to do this being a semi-functional adult but for the first time EVER I don't have to stare at my JD/MD when he asks me when my last period was--seriously dudes. It's not as easy as it sounds).
b. Twitter! Thanks to P&J and their now infamous "I don't know what tiara you're talking about" line of 2011, I felt all things NYE needed to be documented and Twitter seemed the way to do it. PLUS I can be oh so neurotic and girly and LAME and oh so few people know about it! PLUS I can follow my neurotic besties and Michael Ian Black so I can learn all things sarcasm and wit and cunning.
c. French press! I love coffee. PO gave me a *foreveralone* french press that is oh so fashionable and cute and great. Yumzoes on the halfshell.
d. Space heater! Since my own personal space heater, Super Code McGavin, is no longer with us and since I live in Misfit Greyhound Manor and all of the dogs have sleep space issues, my room gets cold. Again, thanks to bff PO I have a space heater! I wake up to warmth! It makes showering *somewhat* enjoyable.
e. my work mates. seriously. these are some of the funniest/nerdiest/most awesome people ever. On the reservation.
f. my non-work mates. Pax! Ables! Jobes! Master E! Slaur! RadPanda! Maux! LadyManLady! Why are you all so awesome! Why can't we all live together with just copious amounts of dogs and booze and dancing and microphones?

1. I need a haircut. I will be taking any and all suggestions
2. I think Type A Jj is back.
2a. I like this plan, I'm excited to be part of it
3. I'm fairly certain I have a crush on a boy.
3a. leSigh

And just for fun.
This is the song I listened to on repeat today, just in case you didn't believe me when I said I was a neurotic shiksa (in my defense I was, to quote Joann, having a bad day):