I Do What I Want!

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

And.
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.
ELEVEN:

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.

And.
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.

2. SCHOOL STUFF
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.
Yes.
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??????)
g.be 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!
It's SO SIMPLE.
ANYONE CAN USE IT:


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?

News:
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):

Grad School Groundling

It's a bit behind the times.
But.
I told you I got into grad school right?
Yes. I did. I just checked.
Oh.
Technology.

But.
Did I tell you I got a scholarship?!?
I feel a *little* awkward about it as I feel like it's kind of bragging, but I'm also kind of super excited about it.
If memory serves, it was the night I swore off heels (see previous blog post regarding Hobo-Walker), and I was going through the mail before heading out to a friend's house for Bananafest, our semi-regular and oh-so-adult game night.
I still get excited about non-bill mail, and since this was about school I figured it was my registration date or something else that people find utterly mundane but I love.

And there it was "Congratulations. You've been selected to receive the Chancellor's Award For Excellence."
What!?
I couldn't, really, believe it as I didn't even APPLY for a scholarship.  But apparently it's an award that the application committee gives out.
And yes, I've looked into it. They don't just give it to everyone (yes, I literally thought that maybe everyone gets a mini-scholarship).
E thinks it may have been my essay I submitted, but I really didn't think it was that great. Was it my reasons statement? Was it just a random selection of newbies?
Most likely, I will never know.
But.
It doesn't affect my financial aid and I think it's pretty cool to quote the Miley Cyrus Show on SNL.

In other grad school news:
I met with my defacto advisor (maybe they were so impressed with my thesis idea/crazy pre-planning and THAT is why they awarded me the scholarship?) and picked my classes.
I will be taking:
Discourse Analysis with the professor who taught my summer linguistics class last summer (and wrote me a recommendation letter!). She actually suggested I take it this past fall, but as I wasn't accepted yet I decided against another "for fun." class.
Intro to Film Studies--Theory and Rhetoric. You are all going to hate me even more than you already do.

Both classes are in the late afternoon and are only one day a week. Work knows and is okay with me leaving early/coming early to get my 40 hours.

The only problem?
I have to wait until FALL to start!
I'm such a nerd.
At least I have my summer reading list to keep up with.

Supes loves academia.

Good Times, Great Oldies

I'm still amazed that people read this thing, and that when I don't post for a while people want to know why. So. Here is my April resolution:

I will try to post more. FOR REAL.

But let's get down to business.
Guess who got into grad school?!?!?!
That's right, this awesome lady.
Sure it's on a probationary status, but with my undergrad GPA, I wasn't expecting anything less. I meet with my advisor on Thursday to discuss my potential classes for next semester:
*Discourse Analysis (the professor of this class taught my summer class and thought I would enjoy this class, and I actually think it would help with my wannabe thesis and my love of arguing altogether)
*Rhetoric, Writing and Information Technology--it sounds super dull and boring but it's online and I feel like it would probably be beneficial
*Film Studies, Intro to Film Theory and Criticism--I would love this class and if I eventually want to teach at the college level I feel like I would need an in-depth background
*Introduction to the Modern--I've taken this professor before, and I enjoyed it, and I think this is a requirement, so I'm assuming I could take it next year or something
*Feminist Rhetorical Theory--obs.

Or maybe there are some other gems that I'm totally missing? I'll keep you posted.

Still waiting on the financial aid (read: loans) to be awarded, but hopefully I'll get enough to cover the cost of tuition. I'm hoping to keep working full-time with a more flex-y schedule, but am unsure if that is a definite (fingers crossed!)

In other news.
BASEBALL STUFF!
I had visions of grandeur that by the time I posted this the Crew would be showing their stuff, first in the division, maybe leading in some other arbitrary statistic.

Instead, they look like the same old Brewers. And I don't mean the Brewers of '08 (although I don't think they showed up until the all-star break), I mean the Brewers that have some good pieces on paper, but can't seem to pull it together on the field.
OR.
That the team we're playing has a BETTER team on paper and they're pulling it together.
OR.
That the team has a worse team on paper but they're on a crazy-red-hot-streak.

*SIGH*

The West Bend Silver Lining?
They're hitting. They've still got the long-ball, and they're getting on base.
They seem(ed) (especially in the first and second games, today's game is effing torture) to have some good cohesion. The lot of them have longer hair (I don't know if this is intentional or not, but I'm trying to find the silver lining here)
They seemed to have good chemistry on the field (barring this game).
They're only three games outta first
THEY COME HOME TOMORROW.
I'm really hoping the Home Opener puts a little spark in them and we can pull out a win or that this is just a bump in our road to victory.
*SIGH*

Things I've Learned

I know.
I know.
It's been a while.
A real long while.

So much has happened.
I've made life decisions.
People have died.
I've some things:

• I've learned my insurance sucks.
• I've learned I truly want to go back to school.
• I've learned my love for pretty boys has only intensified.
• I've learned that maybe atheism (or agnosticism) isn't, maybe, that bad of an option for me.
• I've learned that death & dying is not how it is in the movies.
• I've learned that nothing is appropriate when it come to death/dying/funerals.
• I've learned that funerals are not planned with the dead person in mind, but with whoever is planning the funeral in mind.
• I've learned that I'm pretty awesome according to my nephew.
• I've learned that budgets get some getting used to, but aren't the worst thing in the world.
• I've learned that my parents, although almost divorced, are totes awesome.
• I've learned that no matter how old I am, I hate that I have friends who move away.
• I've learned that reading can still surprise me.
• I've learned that I still love having dates with myself.
• I've learned that I'm no longer 25, nor can I party like a 25 year old.
• I've learned that Pearl Jam is still amazing for all intensive purposes.

I think that pretty much brings us up to speed.
And now for the elaborations.
(You didn't think I was just going to leave you with that did you? Silly rabbit.)

I've learned my insurance sucks.
As some of you may know, I get my insurance through E. And as I'm sure most of you know, E works for Starbucks. Well thanks to this awesome recession, Starbucks felt the need to save more money, and in the process dick over their employees, with quite possibly the worlds worst insurance.

I have narrow, crooked ear canals. This means wax cannot come out of my ears like it does with other people. So it gets stuck in there and it makes me deaf. Not totes deaf, but it basically becomes impossible for me to eavesdrop on anyone's conversation, which is a great, great joy of mine. So when I was finally able to get onto E's insurance the first thing I did was schedule an appointment to get my ears cleaned out. I've done this numerous time before with the old insurance and this wasn't a problem, I would pay the $30 co-pay and call it a day. So imagine my surprise when I learned that there was no co-pay for this visit. The co-pay is figured out after the visit. Having no idea how insurance works I shrugged my shoulders and waited.

The JD/MD looked at my ears, confirmed that they were, indeed clogged, and brought in the MA to do the dirty work. I apologized profusely as it's a disgusting job, it has to be worse than looking at cooters.

Things are going great. I can hear! I can eavesdrop! I can turn down the volume on everything in the house! It's a miracle I say, A MIRACLE!

And then.
The bill comes.
And it's $140.
That's right, WITH INSURANCE.
I can hardly believe it and decide to wait to see if this is truly a bill or just a statement of benefits.
Well then the bill comes and it's still $140.
An irate Jj calls up the old insurance company to ask them WTF is going on.
A half an hour later I learn our insurance is great if I want to have a baby because the $4000 I have to spend for a co-pay to take place would be gone in an instant. But since I'm relatively healthy, and plan on going to the JD/MD once or twice a year (or never again as the case may be), having this insurance is an incredibly bad deal. E's paying about $260 a month for me to be on the insurance, which is only "good" if I get cancer, become pregnant or get raped/murdered.
SUCK.

I've learned I truly want to go back to school.
This is a true story.
It all began with my friends going back to school. There is nothing I love more than notebooks and pens and buying books for ridiculously academic classes.
LOVES IT.
So I did a little digging in regards to the UWM Modern Studies program. Which, yes, is a ridiculously academic route and basically if I get accepted it would mean I would become a college professor. But it would be studying everything I love and can only talk to select people about: theory! movies! culture!
Oh swoon swoon swoon.
But here is the tricky part:
Since I kind of haphazardly made my way through school the first time, doing fairly well in classes I enjoyed, writing the bare minimum for essays (but still getting good grades, mind you). I have almost nothing to get me into grad school.
Missing most notably:

• The academic paper that is at least 10 pages long: The graduate assistant told me I could submit the six page paper that I have, but I don't even like that paper, so I would just be submitting it because of it's length. E told me I should just write a brand new 10 page paper, which seemed incredibly daunting at first, but considering my hatred for the Twilight series and love of feminism I thought I could easily get it done.

• Three academic recommendation letters: Apparently everyone knows you don't need three "academic" academic rec. letters. Most people use an employer that can talk about your work ethic, your ability to learn, etc. But you do need at least two professors. And for someone who's been out of the college scene for five years, I thought, and so did my email contact, this could prove difficult.

But then, hark! She recommended something that seemed like a perfect fit:
Non-degree Specialty Student.
The application is $15, they are always accepting applications, I can basically take any class I want, and although she didn't say it in so many words, I do well in the classes get the profs to write me letters and maybe get a 10 page paper out of the process?
eh? Eh? EH?
The caveat is that most often there is 0% financial aid, so I would be paying out of pocket, so that is a little daunting, but also so exciting. Because if there is one thing I think I would be good at, it's being a professional student.

I've learned my love for pretty boys has only intensified.
I know this will seem like I'm forsaking all of my previous hatred-filled sentiments for the Twilight series, but here it is:
I think Robert Pattinson is Totes McGotes dreamsicle pie.
Sears Tower.
I've now taken to watching Twilight on HBO and fast forwarding to the parts that he is in.
Is he a total pretty boy?
Of course.
Plus, I thought the movie did a fairly good job of adapting the book to the screen. And let us not forget that I didn't start hating-hating the books until 2-ish, but mostly 3 and 4. This is also apparent in the second film, which I just saw. Not nearly as good as the first, and a little too cheeseball for me. Directed like a horror film, and Carter Burwell didn't do the music.
And here's some trivia for you, Carter Burwell also did the music for perhaps the prettiest pretty boy movie ever made: Velvet Goldmine.
It still doesn't make me like the books any better, although I do kind of like Alice's hair.

I've learned that maybe atheism (or agnosticism) isn't, maybe, that bad of an option for me.
Shit's gonna get deep here.
As you may have guessed from the list of things I've learned posted above, my grandma died.
My grandma, and her four daughters are all extremely religious. My dad used to be extremely religious, but has fallen away from that. I'm not here to judge other people's beliefs, but watching her hang on, hang on, hang on, even though the doctors expected her to go within hours of all of us being there, two days later she was still "alive" and I'm using that term to indicate that she was breathing. And I'm looking at her, and listening to my aunts' pray and I'm thinking, this isn't about god. This is about science. This is her body doing everything it can to keep her alive, because that is what your body does. If god wanted her to come "home" (and let me just say I'm completely sick of that terminology) he would have taken her. Presumably faster than he did. What happened/didn't happen that he needed her to stay here?I'm not here to sit and argue the ins and outs of belief systems, and I do like the thought of an afterlife, but at the end there was no beauty or grace. It just happened in a hospital bed while her kids were sleeping  most of her kids were sleeping, her eldest was awake.


I've learned that death & dying is not how it is in the movies.
Oh but how I wish it were.
So as it is, the matriarch is dying and that brings EVERYONE here to Milwaukee. Which is ridick, because you would think something happier could do that like a holiday but instead it's to say goodbye, and we hope/are told that she can hear us because hearing is the last sense to go. Which I also got so sick of hearing.
I was glad that my brother came down, however, as we always have a good time and feel like we are the outcasts because we come the boy-child, and we lived "up north." And he and I are never afraid to be inappropriate.
Plus he brought my nephew, who is hilarious, so I was glad to have some light-heartedness there. We both decided that if this WERE a movie. E would proprose and that would wake Grandma up OR Grandma would die but our parents would get back together.
We laugh through the pain in this family.
All I wanted to do for this whole affair was have a video camera and record everything. Record the inappropriate jokes my brother and I were making, record the hysterics of my cousin, EW, record everyone going to town on their subs in the waiting room, because while we were waiting for grandma to die for 8 hours most of us forgot to eat. I wish someone would have recorded the stories that were told or not told as they weren't deemed "appropriate" to the situation. I felt it would have made a really good documentary, if not for dysfunctional families everywhere, at least for ours. Maybe the next time someone dies. Meh?
(Too soon?)

I've learned that nothing is appropriate when it come to death/dying/funerals.
My grandma was a completely ridiculous person. When she was with it, she loved hosting Christmas, loved having visitors, was fieircely independent and told inappropriate stories to anyone who would listen:

• The one where she didn't know gay people were real.
• The one where she had lesbians and a collie living across the street.
• The one where about her wedding night.
• The one about anal.
• The one about oral.
• The one about when she thought she was pregnant even though she never took off her underpants (I presume someone was dry-effing here).
• The one where she smoked pot.
• The one where she would drink a case of beer, and then cook all night.
• The one where she shot holes in the ceiling.

None of these were deemed appropriate to even discuss while reminiscing about her in private company. Sorry, I didn't want to continuously think about her just watching game shows while she lived by herself. I preferred thinking about when she was able to drive and be ridiculous. So I did that, I just did it in my head, or with my dad, rather than with anyone else.


I've learned that funerals are not planned with the dead person in mind, but with whoever is planning the funeral in mind.
My grandma, being the frank lady that she was, talked about how she wanted her funeral to go. She wanted specific music played, she wanted people to laugh and to sing.
Needless to say, this was not how her funeral went. Before the actual service, some music was on, but I can't remember what. I do remember I heard "Bridge Over Troubled Water" which she liked, but that was it. There was no Jim Loving, no Statler Brothers (they were on her list she had specifically written, "Even Jim Loving!!!" because she knew how we all felt about him). I did hear some Statler Brothers after the service by my mom and I thought that was kind not enough. Which is why I'm determined to put the F-U-N back in funeral. Mark my words. You will have a good time. Of course I guess it all depends who plans it because if my wishes are not followed, I will haunt you. And it will not be a cute haunting, it will be a horror movie haunting. My favorite directive that came was that if you wanted to say something at the funeral you had to have it pre-approved and it had to be christ-centered. I wasn't planning on saying anything anyway, becasue I don't go for grand shows of emotion, and I don't need to wax poetic and what an awesome lady she was. Not that there is anything wrong in wanting to do that, my cousin KJC did write and read something that was quite lovely, however. But I definitely didn't want to say anything that had to be "approved." Homey don't play that.

And in case you're keeping score at home, I wasn't a huge fan of the "Try Jesus" booklets that were laying out next to the cheese and crackers. Nor was I a fan of them being brought to Famous Dave's after the internment (it was her favorite restaurant) and being placed on the table. Seriously? Come on.


I've learned that I'm pretty awesome according to my nephew.
Somehow I've become besties with my newphew S. I don't know what I did to earn this award, but at the big dinner we had the night she didn't die but thought she would, S stole my dad's chair and announced to his mom and dad that he was going to sit next to uncle jj, after taking forever to pick out what he wanted for dinner, he signed Z's cast, announced to us that he wanted an x-ray machine so he can look at his bones (one with wheels), and that he wanted a popsicle, becuase he loves popsicles.
"Who doesn't love popsicles?" I asked him. He then proceeded to ask the table if they loved popsicles. Which was hysterical. He was my buddy at the hospital too, playing go fish with me and wondering where my whereabouts were whenever I was not in sight. Heartzoes.


I've learned that budgets get some getting used to, but aren't the worst thing in the world.
It's true. We actually have, nay, use our savings account now. We actually can see some stuff getting done in our house in the next couple of months (might the foyer be complete one day?). We might actually be able to afford me going to school with no financial aid, provided we stick to the budget. Both E and I are horrible at having cash on us. We've grown accustomed to not being able to use the debit card unless we are 1000% sure that we do not have the money reserved for anything else (which it usually is). So when E has money he wants to spend it immediately. I only want to spend it after I've had it about a week, like if it's been in my wallet a week, it's time to go spend it, usually on booze with PO while watching a business deal go down with the hipster Jonas brothers.

I've learned that my parents, although almost divorced, are totes awesome.
Okay so this is because there was a death, and I'm full of sentimental tacky crap--"I Just Called To Say I Love You." But it's true, even though my parents are currently going through the longest divorce known to mankind, I think they are awesome. M. laughed at my fake mourning outfit, and D forgave me for not answering the phone at 6:30 in the morning (it was turned off in my defense). They are both hilarious and I feel like although I'm a disappointment to myself on a consistent basis, I'm not a disppointment to them.
Or.
If I am a disppointment to them, they hide it extremely well.


I've learned that no matter how old I am, I hate that I have friends who move away.
It's true. I've lived through this most of my adult life, and I still can't seem to get over it.
First J&P, leaving a gaping whole in our hearts and livers, then E&M whose parties provided years of storytelling and ridick-ness, and now M&Z--better known as my CSPBFFs. I realize that this is all very selfish of me, and that this is for their greater good (or so they say. jk jk jk) and I'm acting like a five year old, but I don't like it. I prefer sedentary people and cannot begin to tell you the excitement I felt when I learned that PO wanted to go to grad school here in MKE. Because it means, if I get into grad school, I will have a college buddy.
Anys.
To M&Z (CSPBFFs):
I wish you the most of luck in selling your fabulous homes and I'm sure we will run into each other someday on the flip side.
(I tried to make that as cool as possible. I'm pretty sure I failed miserably.)


I've learned that reading can still surprise me.
As some of you know, I've taken on reading all the books in the Washington Park libes. Okay maybe not ALL the books. I'm not reading the instruction manuals to C+++ or the Idiot's guide to Java but I'm going in order alphabetically for ficitons and I'm currently in the zeroes for non-ficitons. While I expected to find some interesting reads, I have to say I've read books I never would have read (Arab-American Women's fiction! historical fiction! gay-esque fiction! okay so I probably would have read that one) and learned a thing or two in the process. I'm currently in what I have to call "the unexplained" section of the dewey decimal system as the last couple of non-fiction books I have read have been about the unknown. Currently I'm reading about the Japanese equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle, which I actually did a presentation on as a 4th grader. Full circle, kiddos. I can't sing the praises of the library enough, and that is the one thing I miss about being unemployed (okay maybe it's not THE one thing I miss, but it's A thing I miss), is going to the library and hanging.
I've really taken to reading rather than watching drivel on the telly, which I rather enjoy, because while I do enjoy drivel, especially that which features pretty men, it can feel like your brain is turning into gelatin.
And as a strict vegetarian, that doesn't sit well with me.

I've learned that I still love having dates with myself.
Back in college, when I was single, I would date myself all the time. I loved it. I would take myself out to dinner, or maybe rent a movie or make something really good to eat. Or maybe just read. Anyway, it was great and I loved it and I hadn't had one in a long time, or at least something that I designated as a date with myself. But then...
A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in the precarious position of needing a ride after a night with the girls. Luckily someone was going by way of Mayfair and I had a luncheon date at one there, and while I thought I would get there at 11 in the morning, I ended up getting there at 9-ish. Never to fear. I had a bagel and some coffee and as a "reader" I had a book with me. Making my Sunday morning quite enjoyable. I read for about an hour and then I remembered they show movies for $5 before noon on the weekends. So I mosied up the stairs to see if there was anything I could fathom paying $5 for.
And there it was. Two choices: Sherlock Holmes or It's Complicated.
I couldn't for the life of me remember what It's Complicated was about so I went with Sherlock Holmes, which I might say, was pure delight. Robert Downey Jr. is awesome, it had a great occult twist which I loved, and I'm starting to like Rachel McAdams, who is Canadian, if you were wondering.
I recommend to anyone who likes British things, action and a decent story.
By the time the movie ended it was time to go to, what now was the last luncheon with my grandma, but it was a good time none the less. I probably will never have timing that perfect ever again, but it made me realize how movies and dates by yourself are great.


I've learned that I'm no longer 25, nor can I party like a 25 year old.
What a drag it is getting old.
Cue sitar music.
So the reason I found myself in the position of needing a ride, which ultimately led to a great Sunday was because I got so smashed on Saturday night that I couldn't walk.
I passed out while sitting up, had difficulties crawling and could not for the life of me muster the wherewithal to walk outside with a friend who was offering to drive me home. PO, bestie that she is let me stay over where I woke up feeling fine and ready to take on the world.
The saddest part was that I didn't even think I drank that much. But there I was the almost 30 year-old passed out like the olds that I am.
Boozeoes.
Boozoes.
I've tempered myself quite well since and am preparing for the liver destruction that is WFVIII--The Ocho.


I've learned that Pearl Jam is still amazing for all intensive purposes.
I cannot get enough of their album "Backspacer." Do you like rock and roll? Then you will like this album. My hope is that they will tour and I will get to see them yet again, because they have yet to play a lackluster show. Does this make me a huge nerd? Most likely, but I'm not going to deny it. It's good rock music. And I like, nay, love good rock music.