I Politely Disagree...

Sometimes the irony is overwhelming. I've absolutely been dying to see The Aristocrats since it premiered at Sundance last year. The fact that unless you are able to see the dirty/unrated comedy during Sundance, chances are good the conservative (ahem, Mormon) politics of Utah are going to be able to keep movies of the like out of its state. Anyway, that's a whole other tangent. Instead, I'm going to rant about my adoration of the movie, which I finally saw, thanks to Netflix.

Here's the scoop: the reviews I read a year ago are so spot on I'm shocked; Sarah Silverman is amazing; Bob Saget is ridiculous; when Gilbert Godfried performs it at the Friar's Club Roast shortly after 9/11 it is probably the funniest telling of the joke in the movie.

My friend Matt Kaszanek, whom I trust with all things movie related more than anyone other than Nate, didn't like it. And this is why I'll argue with him. I was expecting the movie to be an absolute riot. It's not. It's more a disecting of a joke. And not just any joke, but a comedian's joke. More than that, it's an analysis of how comedians tell the joke, like can it be more or less crude if a woman tells it, or how does race come into it; and maybe most important of all, is shit funnier than sex/incest? Maybe the fact that I've been obsessively curious about it for damn near 12 months plays into the fact that I really liked it. But as a girl who loves documentaries more than she'd care to admit, it was exactly what I was looking for.

If I had to seek out a complaint (and okay, as the critic that I am, it wasn't hard), I didn't like how sometimes the cameramen (aka Paul Provenza or Penn) would laugh at the joke as the person was telling it. And really it's not that so much as if you're going to be laughing at a joke, you should be on-screen. So, do it like a legit interview where you say, "Dude, Bob Saget, tell the f-ing dirtiest joke on the planet, to me, Penn, and I'll sit here and egg you on, but if I'm laughing it's okay, because I'm on-screen and not some obscure voice that is both making Bob Saget laugh and not tell his goddamned joke and taking away from the scene where Bob Saget tells his goddamned joke about raping his son in an empty eye socket with a flattened penis..."

Anyway, there's not a lot in this world that I love more than analysis, so that helped me like it. The only other thing I'll mention is that I was disappointed that no one told me that Cartman tells the joke while the kids are waiting for the bus (specially made for this movie, not a part of South Park). If it's at all possible to download that part, I wholeheartedly recommend it.

Um, so yeah, next on the list of Netflix movies is Chinatown and I will be eagerly awaiting another 2005 Sundance documentary Murderball. And to give Matt Kaszanek some credit, I did add Junebug as well. If you ever want to recommend something, please feel free, but be forewarned that I have about 16 books on my to-read list and about 82 movies on my Netflix queue. It may be some time before I get to anything. Did I mention that I'm knitting a pillow to be felted? And I subscribe to four magazines? And I have a full-time job? And I have some friends that I don't call on the phone when I should? And despite living in North Dakota, I have made some friends who I occasionally like to spend time with? God, what am I doing wasting time telling all you people what I think about things? I'm going to read comics (Kingdom Come) and go to bed.

In the words of Eric Cartman, "Screw you guys, I'm going home."

Goddamn Alzheimers

The title is a reference to my daddy, Mark the great who claims that as he gets older it gets harder and harder to remember even the simplest things. So, after discovering a little too late that there wasn't enough hot water for me to take a bath after doing the dishes, I bring you my recent mind-failings.

Well, there are only two, and they both relate to a singer my dad likes. (By the way (goddamnit!), [another Mark-ism] speaking of my dad (segues are for amateurs) [Mark-ism] I just got two cds in the mail from him - the new Strokes album and the first Kanye West album - there is no doubt that my dad is cooler than most dads but when did he become cooler than me? Thanks, dad!)

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, I was walking out of work today and suddenly a song popped in my head. And I knew that I loved the song; I knew bits and pieces of the lyrics; I immediately identified it as someone my dad listened to; my first thought was The Replacements, but no, I have a lot of their stuff now (thanks, Pete) and I hadn't heard this song recently. Well, thanks to a google search of the lyrics, "seven years disappear...do you want me now" I discovered that it was Freedy Johnson's "Bad Reputation." How on earth did I not remember that? I only absolutely love the song. WTF? Needless to say, I downloaded and have listened to it eight times since 6:15pm.

Side Rant: Why is it when I type those lyrics in the first two links are to the Death Cab for Cutie cover of Johnson's song? When did Ben Gibbard take over the universe and how did I miss it? I mean, I like the guy, but why does everyone all of a sudden feel like he developed modern rock music? As I'm currently listening to Built to Spill, I can hear Death Cab ripping them off. Jesus, I hate to say it, but I've just about had all I can stomach (after of course, I listen to Plans, which Nate tells me is their best in years).

Um, back to my memory loss (is it any wonder I forget things with all these parenthesis and side rants?), so I'm on my 6th listen of "Bad Reputation" and I suddenly think "wait, haven't I seen him in concert before?" And that's when I realize that not only do I know and love his most popular song but I also paid to see it live with my dear friend, Shayna Vecchione. Even worse than this realization is that other than the fact that I saw him, with Shayna, and the fact that both our dads love him, I don't remember a damn thing about the concert. Oh, it was at Paradise Rock Club.

In another completely unrelated rant, I am pissed off that I may never see a concert again. I mean, it was bad enough when I moved to Utah and a band that I liked only came every 4 or so months, but hey, it was something to look forward to. Besides, I saw top bands like Badly Drawn Boy, The Decemberists (with Tom Heinl, who covered "Roll Out the Barrels"), Wilco, Calexico, Travis Morrison, Modest Mouse (where I almost got in my first ever fist fight, but was saved by Nate and his tall, intimidating-but-completely-harmless friend, Dave), Death Cab for Cutie (kind of ironic given my previous statements; in all fairness, even at that show I was telling Nate how crap they were), Elliott Smith (at his last ever live show before allegedly offing himself), and every weekend at Brewskis they had some blues band playing. (Oh, and there was that one time where we paid to see The Secret Machines double bill with Muse, but when we learned that the Machines were sick, we walked out and saw Team America instead. God, I love Nate. He's the best brother a sister could have.) Now, I would have to go to Minneapolis to see any of those bands. For those of you who don't know your Great Plains geography, that's like a 8-hour drive to see a band. And I'm warning you all now, I am soooooo not above driving that far to see any number of bands. That's how deprived I am of good music. Good lord, I just discovered Wolf Parade and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, just about 6 months after the rest of the world. Thank God for XM Radio too, because otherwise, I would have missed both of those. And Jesus, if it weren't for my dad, I probably still wouldn't know that The Strokes released a new album.

Anyway, if I ramble anymore, I might officially go insane. It's time to test the water again. If that fails it's comic book hysteria and an article in RS about the fall of the lead singer of Creed (oh hilarity will ensue with that one).

Waste of Paint

I don't really have anything interesting to say. Well, I mean, I probably don't usually have much of anything interesting to say, but I usually try to have one or two points in a post. This one, not so much. I was just bored, so I figured I could ramble for about 20 minutes and kill some time before the night ends.

My work friends are either out of town or they are ill, so I am spending the day with me. So far today, I have slept in, read, done a crossword, read more, watched cartoons, half-assedly cleaned, knitted, checked my email, and played a lot of solitaire. Woo, how can anyone stand that much excitement?

This week, I met my second congressman. That leaves only the one that is up for reelection that I have yet to meet. I even have gotten them to call me back; of course, I back down when they don't really answer my questions. Gosh, journalism is hard. That being said, I'm finally getting the knack for this journalism stuff. I think it might be for me. I like to ask questions and I like to be forced to write, and I like to come up with stories that I want to pursue. That's always fun. Plus, I get to do a story on the bird flu and it hitting here. Woo!

This week, I also won $100 thanks to a superbowl pool, where no one picked both Seattle and the Steelers to make it. No one, that is, except for me. Plus, I have a chance to break even on the second pool I'm in. In the third one, I should probably just write off the $5 right now. Do you think maybe sports has taken over a little too much of my life?

This week, I got two bloody noses, one of them caused me to miss an interview. That was fun.

This week, I watched Inside Deep Throat and Friday Night Lights. I thought the former was quite interesting. It's neat to see how much of an impact a porn movie can have. I think the film's star was a bit of a loon, but I guess I'm not all that surprised. Although it should have been interesting, I got a little bored when they talked about the mob. I found the stuff about how the director thought the movie was going to be about a women's sexual revolution and instead came up against a women's movement saying how porn doesn't respect women. It's kind of interesting, for me, because I guess I can see both sides. As for the latter movie, I think if Cindy hadn't been there telling me about how much deeper the book delved, I would have liked it less. Nate didn't think the story was all that special, but I guess, not realizing the importance of high school football in some towns and how scouts will send people to watch even from the first day of practice, I thought it was kind of an intersting story. But now I just want to read the book, and as I'm looking at my recently erected book shelf, I'm seeing 16 books that I'd like to read, on top of my 4 magazine subscriptions and the book I'm currently reading.

My goals for the rest of the weekend are to finish my Al Franken book and get 1/4 of the way through my current knitting project and to vaccuum. I don't think my goals are all that lofty but after last weekend's hullabaloo, I probably shouldn't complain about relaxing. Anyway, I'll quit wasting everyone else's time and go back to just wasting mine. Here's to dancing with myself for the rest of the night...

Celebrities on Ice

I'm a lucky, spoiled bastard who got to go to the Sundance Film Festival this year. Even if there's talk that the independent festival has become too commercial and is having its weakest year to date, it was nice to get away for a few days and pretend to be cultured. Before I get into the "feelings" and "thoughts" I had on being home and seeing family and friends, let's get through the important stuff: the film reviews.

I saw four movies over the course of two days. For the record, going in, only one of those movies was one I had requested when we bought our tickets in advance. In the end, I'd recommend all of them, but not necessarily to everyone.

1. Somebodies - I saw this movie at 9 a.m. on a Saturday, after going to bed after midnight on Friday and waking up at 6 a.m. to get to the movie in time. Thank Christ, then, that it was funny as hell. To give you an idea of how funny it is, I'll relay two scenes, both of which happen in the first 15 minutes. Scene one: The screen is black and some guy is debating whether or not he should go to church, and finally he decides that God wins by saying, "eh, fuck it, I'll get up." Any time you can talk about God and still swear, you're off to a good start in my book. Scene two: the college-aged main character is doing a voice-over about himself. As you see him taking a syringe and sucking vodka out of a huge bottle and then injecting said vodka into an orange and then taking that orange and sticking it in a freezer full of oranges and then removing two of them, he said, "I've got what you call issues...and the chicks think that is sexy." It only gets better from there. Essentially the movie is about a black college student from Athens, GA (yes, there is a brilliantly used "Everybody Hurts" by R.E.M. in the movie) who isn't exactly a bad guy but he realizes he could be a lot better person, and so he tries along with the help of a new lady friend named Diva, who's favorite movie is Space Jam. It's heartfelt without being too sappy and it's funny without being all that crude. Not bad.

2. Thin - Okay, initially I was totally against this movie, in the sense that I didn't think I'd understand or appreciate the depth and severity of the issue. I'm one of about six girls in the world who has never seriously considered my weight to be an issue. I sometimes joke about putting on weight or my lovehandles but I've never really thought about binging or purging. In fact, the only time I do either is when I drink a lot. Anyway, Thin is a documentary about girls and women with eating disorders. Apparently, somewhere in FLA, there's a clinic specifically for this issue. Not really understanding all the hoopla about denying oneself of food or eating too much and then purging oneself of it, I didn't think I'd like the movie. But here's to the credit of the director, Lauren Greenfield: she goes to the clinic and instead of getting bogged down in the doctors' technical terms or trying learn about the 30 or so women there, she focuses on four women. The four women, even better, are all at different stages of being in there, and they're all there with different problems and different reasons for having eating disorders. There's Polly who's doing the best of the four, but who's a little sassy for her own good. There's Alysa who wants to get better for her two children. There's Brittney who's 15 and who's mother also has an eating problem. There's Sherry who's a depressive who likes to be able to deny herself food so that she can be in control of something. It's sad to watch them cry over going from 87 pounds to 90 pounds. Seriously. I guess until I saw this movie I never understood that so many women do this or how they do it, but now I do. Cindy, my co-worker, did bring up one good point, which is they didn't have anybody who had an eating disorder due to a sport where they need to keep off the pounds. Sherry, who was at the screening we saw, brought up a better point (sorry, Cindy), she said she was initially skeptical of being involved in the project because documentaries and afternoon specials she'd seen on eating disorders always gave her hints on how to further her disorder, as well as showed her girls that she could be envious of how skinny they were, this movie doesn't glamorize it at all and you certainly see how bad it can get, while at the same time, because the women are recovering, there aren't many tricks of the trade that one can learn.

Those both were on Saturday. On Saturday, we heard a truly obnoxious New Jersey-ite talking about a movie we were going to see Sunday. He said it was funny. Because he was pretentious, we were a little less confident that it would be good. When we learned that it was a Danish movie with subtitles we were even less assured. By the way, going in, we knew we were going to watch a movie about a neo-Nazi who lives in a country church. Imagine our surprise that it was amazing.

3. Adam's Apples - This movie is the darkest comedy I've probably ever seen, and I love black comedies. Basically, this neo-Nazi, Adam, gets out of prison and is dropped off at a country church, which I guess serves as some sort of halfway house for prisoners. Right off the bat, you get the impression that something isn't quite right with the pastor of the church. He'll say stuff like, "I could say that what you just said to me is very rude, but this is not the time or the place." And he's not being passive agressive, he just wants to talk about something else at the time. Perhaps the most blatantly funny part is when the pastor goes into Adam's room and sees a picture of Hitler and says, "Is that your father? He's a handsome man." And Adam tells him it's Hitler, and the pastor says, "No, Hitler was the one with the beard." Anyway, as part of his recovery or whatever, the pastor said that he has to accomplish only one goal and it could be whatever he wanted, so just to be a dick, he says he'll bake a cake, to which the priest said, how about you bake an apple pie using the apples from our apple tree? Thinking that he has the easiest task in the world, he sets about learning the others who stay in the church. Through them, he learns of all the horrible things the pastor has suffered through. Instead of feeling bad about it, Adam makes it his mission to prove that the devil isn't testing the pastor with all of the shit that has been thrust upon him, but rather that God himself hates the pastor. At the same time, the apples are eaten by crows, and once they solve that problem, worms eat most of the apples, and finally lightening strikes down the tree. It's a good story about faith if you can suffer through gunfire, neo-Nazis, robberies, drinking while pregnant, former tennis players who take to drinking and a life of crime when a ball is mistakenly called out, and a Pakistani who often says, "For the sake of fuck." It's absolutely hilarious and you can bet I'll rent it from Netflix to share with anyone who cares.

4. A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints - The more I think about this movie, the more heartbreaking it is, the more I like it and the more I'll stick to my guns about not really liking the editing or perhaps the directing (I'm not really good about distinguishing the two). Anyway, the movie is based on a book that is based on this guy's real life. The movie opens up with Robert Downey Jr. as the author of said book at like a book reading. He opens by saying something to the effect of by the end of this story two kids will have died and that's not giving away anything. Basically, he was saying the place he grew up in the mid-80s (in Astoria, NY, apparently a heavily Italian bad neighborhood near NYC) that two teenagers dying is neither surprising nor anything to be all that upset about. It then flashes to him as a teenager (my favorite piece of near-jailbait Shia LaBeouf) who says, "My name is Dito Montiel and I'm going to leave everyone in this film." Kind of like Garden State, the Dito kid runs away from the east coast to go to the west coast where things have to be better; he finally comes home and has to deal with all the people who never left when one of his parents is one his death bed. The story is told in flashbacks, but sometimes the way it's cut super duper drove me nuts. Nate explained the reason behind my least favorite one and it totally made sense but it doesn't stop it from being annoying. I just wish he could have gotten his point across in another way, but barring that I'll accept Nate's reasoning for it. Anyway, there's nothing particularly noteworthy about the story except for how real it is, that these kids do seem like real people, and essentially there are a lot of people who whether they wanted to or not helped Dito get out of it, even if they couldn't. That's why Nate said the title is what it it is, even if the people who helped him aren't really saints, they are people who saved his life by helping him get away from a bad situation. It's horribly sad, and maybe a little melodramatic but perhaps rightfully so. This was the one I wanted to see.

Anyway, how's that for a post? Long-winded, yes. Thought-provoking, probably not. Anyway, if you want to discuss the movies more, I'm happy to talk more about them. More on the rest of Utah later.

Long Time Coming (You are a Runner)

I figured titling a post on my top 5 albums of the year had to be pretentious as all hell, and is there anything more pretentious in indie rock than parenthesis? This isn't something they teach you in school, this kind of pretension is what you learn from your peers.

Anyway, without further ado, the 2005 Top 5:


5. Tie- Beck Guero and The New Pornographers Twin Cinema.

Here's the thing about these albums. They are amazing, but they're by bands who've put out amazing albums before. Both the New Pornographers and Beck on their respective albums showed that they're capable of the same quality of work they've done before. For The NP, the Electric Version is the best pop record I've heard in years. Everyone knows from that from Odelay on that Beck was not destined to be a one-hit-wonder with "Loser." These albums make the list because they are fantastic but not because they're anything other than what you would expect from talented and right-up-my-alley artists.

4. Bright Eyes I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning.

I know, I know. I think Bright Eyes is a guilty pleasure to be consumed in private like hardcore porn, but this new album finally made me understand what all the fuss was about. It's melodramatic but appropriate to the times. If my complete conversion doesn't convince you, please note that Conor Oberst recruits country-legend Emmylou Harris to sing on the album. You're probably sick of hearing the Dylan comparisons but like Zimmy himself, Oberst is political, deep, melodramatic and if I must say, somewhat catchy on this album. If you don't appreciate "Land Locked Blues" with the lyric, "and the sidewalk holds diamonds / like a jewelry store case / they argue / walk this way / no, walk this way," then I have to wonder what's wrong with you. Making Bright Eyes #4 was a tough call for me; I hate to admit that Conor holds this much power over a generation of gen-xers and gen-yers, but if this album doesn't convince you, then we might need to hold an intervention.

3. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

Like a Derby horse that sneaks up upon the favored filly, I wasn't sure what would be 5th on my top 5, until I heard this album. There's no way that Clap Your Hands beats the best album of the year, but it is a completely solid record. It's not something I ever expected to be as good as it is, but I don't question my decision to put it on my top 5 one bit. I read reviews of the band; I saw in Rolling Stone that I should check Clap Your Hands out, but not until I heard "Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood" did I understand that it wasn't just trumping a new Strokes or another New Wave band-of-the-moment. And now I say to you, picks 2 and 1, watch your ass, because Clap Your Hands is sneaking up. Holy F-ing Shit, how did I miss this band 6 months ago? Even after 1.5 listens you can realize that this is what is missing from your life. And, for all you doubters, listen to the aforementioned song, as well as "Over and Over (Lost and Found)," where singer Alec Ounsworth croons, "You look like David Bowie / But you got nothing new to show me." If you still think this band is nothing but a rip-off of David Byrne or that Brooklyn-based bands have gone the way of the Beastie Boys, then sir, I pity you. You are missing out on the most indie-rock-poptastic-album that literally catches indie-rock-poptastic-lovers off-guard.

2. Sufjan Stevens Illinois.

Fuck you if you didn't think a folk-pop album about the wonderful state that is Illinois wouldn't make my Top 5. If you seriously thought that, then stop reading this post, and please never read a god-damned thing I write ever again, because in all pretentious seriousness, did you really think that I wouldn't get this album. Sufjan, who has previously written about another magnificent midwestern blue state, Michigan, does a wonderful job of mixing real Illinois trivia with personal experiences. If you're not from the midwest, this album may not impact you in the same way it would a person who's never had his/her state recognized as anything other than a blip on the rural land between NY and CA. Just so you know, "The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders..." is named after the tallest man on record who is from IL, and "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts" is due to the fact that while the Superman franchise lives on, and Smallville continues to win over Clark Kent fans everywhere, there is actually a Metropolis, IL where you can find Superman memoribilia. Even if this album weren't poptastically folkish, Sufjan did his homework and like any good school teacher, that sort of recognition should be rewarded. Sufjan, you get a gold star and you should see me after class.


1. The Decemberists Picaresque.

Like the band's not-so-sophomore-slump-album's-single "I Was Meant for the Stage" lyrics, my answer to you as to what made this album number one would be, "Was there ever any doubt?" My god, let's think about this for a second, a genius third album with the smartest and best-writen lyrics 2005 has seen, could there be any other album that wins the number one slot? If you've read my previous posts, you know my thoughts on Colin Meloy; if you have not, it's needless to say the man could outwit me in Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, and probably even Monopoly. The man behind the Decemberists knows more than I do, but it's hard to feel bad when he knows more than you do and more than most people. The man is a god amongst men. On this album he sings about the agony of defeat on the football field (as, I imagine, only someone who has no experience actually playing on the field could understand), as well as being eaten by a whale while on a quest for revenge. I'm not going to pretend this album is for everyone, but I won't back down when I say this is the most creative and entertaining and smartest and best-third-album I've heard this year.

As I've prattled on enough I'll stop here. Know that the title with the phrase "You Are a Runner" alludes to what I consider to be one of the best singles of this year. Know that there are a lot of albums I heard this year and even perhaps purchased but never gave a good listening to, in order to consider them in the running. Kaiser Chiefs and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club I am looking at your albums in front of me now. Know that there are bands that I've heard but never understood as much as others did. Bloc Party and Kings of Leon, it is now your turn in the limelight. I heard a couple of good songs on each but not enough to warrant a top five spot.

But because of the aforementioned top 10 songs/singles, it's not to say these bands didn't earn a spot there. I consider singles to be anything catchy and not necessarily songs actually released as singles. So, look out for some of the aforementioned bands (Top 5 or not) to reach the best songs of the year.

I welcome any discussion, as I've likely missed a few albums this year (sorry, Casey, I never got around to hearing the new Andrew Bird), but I still stand my these choices. Oh, and if there's a Razzies of my 2005 album choices, it'd go to the new Coldplay. How mediocre can a band with such promise get?!

Anyway, that's the rant for tonight. Toodles. XoXo

The Never-Ending Roller Coaster Ride

The ups-and-downs thing continued to this Sunday. I actually picked Pittsburgh to beat Indy in the NFL playoffs in my work pool but was actually kind of hoping for the Colts to win (sorry, though, $100 beats any standards I have about hating the Steelers). Then, I went to see Brokeback Mountain (see review below) with Cindy, only to be driving home and calling my brother to tell him about it and have him yell at me for calling in the middle of 24. Being 100 miles away from home and 20 minutes after the show ended I missed the first two hours. So, there went any fun I had watching a horribly depressing indie movie in North Dakota. Plus, it never feels good to realize that for as much as you think you have your life in some sort of control or order that just as simply as the blink of an eye you can forget very important things which makes you realize that you actually have no control whatsoever. Or, maybe I'm a little melodramatic these days.

Anyway, the movie. I loved it. I'm sure there are a lot of Christian conservatives and homophobes who would hate it without seeing it or spend too much time judging the characters actions to actually appreciate what they were seeing, but to me, it was a tragic love story, nothing more, nothing less, well more in the fact that it was heartbreaking to realize that if people were a little more accepting of two men (or women) in a relationship that maybe many of the couple's troubles could have been averted. The reviews saying how amazing Heath Ledger is rang absolutely true. I know Jakey G. (as he's called in my fantasy world where we have lots of passionate sex) was fantastic as he is in everything but Heath really did shine, and played a character unlike anything I've seen him do before. I didn't watch the Golden Globes (which I think were on tonight) but I do hope he or the movie got something. As for Ang Lee's directing, I'm not going to even pretend I get the vast scope of what it takes to be a filmmaker, but I will say this, Lee (that's the journalist in me using last names after the first reference) does an amazing job of capturing real emotion without being sentimental or sappy. I don't know if it's accurate at all to say, but I'd call it very minimalistic. Hell, Heath Ledger as the silent Ennis speaks volumes about his emotions without hardly saying a word. I was proud of myself for not crying all that much, but tonight when I took a shower, I was thinking about the movie and literally brought myself to tears again thinking about the end. If that's not strong storytelling I don't know what is.

Aside from football and a homosexual cowboy movie, I also went on a downloading spree. Plus, on my 100+ mile drive, I have finally come up with my 2005 top five list for albums. I aim to have a few honorable mentions and very briefly I think I must do a top ten songs section, because there were a couple hits that I'll have in my head till the day I die that don't make the best of list. I'll save that for another post, as I haven't quite come up with the 10 singles, and well, I want to make my review writing as sharp as possible.

And with that, I'm off to read my liberally biased literature. Xo.

The Tangibility of Sine and Co-Sine

As Buddy Holly and Belle and Sebastian once sang, it sometimes seems like life and love are like rollercoasters (wait, didn't the god-awful red hot chili peppers do a god-awful cover that had something to do with roller coasters, like much of their career, though, let's pretend that never happened and instead stick with decent bands), and I couldn't agree more. (God, do I really sound like Doogie Howser on my blog?)

Anyway, parenthesis aside, I've been a bit up and down lately. Not just me personally but in every aspect of my life: for one week, I'll totally balance my checkbook, then two weeks later realize I've lost the receipts to half the things I've purchased; for 2 hours at a time, I'll get through an interview that goes perfectly or go through 10 calls that all go great, only to have the next four be like pulling teeth with researching some vast governmental program that no one will ever understand; and love, well, love, it's a motherfucker as "Old School" tells us, so like fucking anything it's up and down.

This has been my mood of late, for anything that goes right, something else goes wrong. Tomorrow, well, in less than 20 minutes, it'll be Friday the Thirteenth. Notoriously, these are bad days for people. In my last 3 to 5 years they've actually been good days for me. If the rollercoaster rule works tomorrow, who knows what I'm in store for, but if the luck of an unlucky day works in my favor, it could be all right.

As Cindy would say, not that you need to know this, but my day tomorrow consists of hopefully talking with a U.S. Senator, a meat salesman, perhaps a couple of people involved in some heavily acronymned projects, before going to meet the local chief of police who (after the news staff I work with) is my favorite person in this state, before going to meet the heavily acronymned crew at their regular luncheon (the college student in me loves free food and the lazy journalist in me loves a good photo op), before writing about said heavily acronymned group, and probably going home later than I wanted. Did I mention that I also have to go through and do corrections on my rough draft of a feature story? This will probably be my life for the next eight weeks, so if you think I'm whining now, you should probably quit reading until St. Patty's Day. Oh, if you don't think I'm a big enough whiner, I have another farm story due mid-next week and another story on the whole medicare thing (prescription drug plan) that I would have liked to work on since Tuesday but instead have been working on other stuff that is less pressing but no less deadline-oriented. Bugger.

To end on a high note, as much as I complain, I love what I do more than anything, and I wouldn't trade anyone's job for mine (except Matt Taibbi's, but I love him and that's a whole other story). Oh, and through XM Radio, which I am still addicted to, I have discovered so many bands about which I'd like to find out more. Plus, I promised Casey that I would come up with a year's best list, and so far, while the pickings are slim, I know of a lot of bands that I wish I knew more about and about 6 albums that I heard that I liked and about 8 million bands who were once good but in 2005 decided to release their most mediocre album to date (ahem, Oasis, The White Stripes, Coldplay). And, why did Amazon put on their 100 best consumer albums records that were released in 2001 or 2004 or any year that wasn't 2005. W the F? And, seriously, I know I mock Bright Eyes, but how did "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning" finish after the new Oasis and The White Stripes?! Let's keep stroking the egos of people who've long since reached their peak and instead ignore anything interesting that came out in 2005, rock music critics seemed to say this year. Again, as Cindy would say, Bastards. (My list: Coming Soon, much like Brokeback Mountain to North Dakota.)

One Fine Day

Did you ever have such a good day that when you finally get home from work at 9 p.m. you aren't tired and pissed off, but instead energized enough to paint, read, take a bath, post a blog while drinking wine and sitting around the house naked? Well, if not, you are missing out.

Okay, why was it a good day? I started off my day by organizing my thoughts, planning my week, bullshitting at work, and preparing for a 1:30 p.m. interview, which required I leave the office at noon (yeah, that's how far away Bismarck is from where I live). I started to get worried at quarter to 12 when my interview hadn't called to confirm. If I was driving 100 miles, I was not going to be ignored. So, I called and left a voicemail with my cell phone number, just in case. Then, I started driving and my mom called. She told me that one of her students was applying to Harvard Medical School and was visiting Boston - in one sentence she made me feel horrible for being nowhere near clever enough to even apply to Harvard and feel sad for not being in Boston. So, I called Pete, but by the time I called I had already gotten passed the bounds of civilization and after three calls that kept getting lost, I gave up. That's when I realized: Bismarck is in another time zone. I had made the appointment for 1:30, which I thought was in Mountain Time, but he probably thought was Central Time. So, I called again, and said, unless I had a magic carpet, I'd be about an hour late to the appointment, if it was in fact at 1:30 Central Time. I am literally to Mandan and haven't heard from him, so I have no idea if the interview I've driven 85 miles for will even be there.

Fortunately, I arrive at the military camp that is the North Dakota National Guard and go to the wrong door of the right building. Then, as I'm heading to the right door, I realize I probably should bring my tape recorder; talking to the new Director of Homeland Security is no small trifle for the press. Then, I make it in, and immediately everybody is like, "ha ha, you Mountain Time hick, you're here an hour late." But thankfully, the guy was available to meet with me. Whew.

So I start the interview and he starts prattling on right away, and I'm like, it'll be a lot easier if I record this and he's okay with that. Then, oh of course, my batteries die.

As if this guy doesn't think I'm like Bridget Jones already, he now knows I'm incompetent. I have spare batteries but I do manage to lose the back to my tape recorder.

(By the way, at this point, my day isn't even half over.)

So, then, the interview goes magnificently. At the end of the interview (thank you, Cindy, for teaching me this little trick), I ask him if there's anything I've missed out that he'd like to highlight, and he not only says that he really can't think of anything, but that I'm more thorough than most interviewers he's dealt with. Then, the best part: he took me on a tour of an emergency operations center (EOC as they call it in the biz). I finally understood some of what FEMA and the like do on a daily basis. It sort of clicked and while I can't say I'm completely convinced of the whole deal, it seemed like less of a waste of energy and tax dollars.

I'm riding on such a high that even when Cindy and Pete call to try to convince me it's 5 p.m. and I'm late to my next meeting, I will not back down and I know it is only 4 p.m., which means I actually have time to eat and find out what the hell will be happening at my 5 p.m. meeting.

I get back and learn from my boss that I actually have some grasp of what are the big issues for the meeting. I attend said meeting. I come back and probably waste a little bit of time. Then, I get rattling on and end up writing a 27-inch story on one point. So, I start writing a second full story on the other point. My boss says (thankfully) I can save that one for tomorrow. I have him look over the story I wrote over the last hour and a half (which really with my slacking should have only been an hour), and he said it's exactly what it should be, and it was just fine.

I am freaking awesome.

(This will be the longest post ever created...welcome to me being manic.)

So, we're doing this progress edition at work, which really is a bunch of feature stories compiled into one issue. Because it's such an undertaking we have deadlines each week from the 13th of January to the middle of March.

Fun!

Last thing, my Christmas.

Not that my Xmas compares to Shayna's. My god, I was jealous I couldn't spend my holiday with her and Eric in Appalachia (sp?). Anyway, I threw myself a Hawaiian holiday party. I wore a floral dress (and turned the heat up in my house). I wore a lei. I drank Mai Tais. In reality, it was warm enough that I was able to make it out and play a nice game of catch with Pete. While I did put on jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I did not take off my dress.

Then, I came home and made ham, fried rice, a whole artichoke, and more Mai Tais. Thankfully, I did have Peter to join me so I was not so so lonesome.

The dreaded day after Xmas, I had the day off, so I went to Bismarck to blow some money. Two weeks later, I don't remember what I bought, but I remember having a lovely day.

And that wraps up the longest post ever. Hopefully, at some points, I was funny.

Ringing in the New Year...

I used to get all bent out of shape about having a great New Year's Eve.....Wait, wait, let me start over.

Ahem, sorry it's been awhile since I posted. I'm sure many of you do in fact have better things to do than to look at a blog that has not been updated. If I can give a lame excuse, I'm going to blame the winter blahs that I've been having since this has been the first Xmas I've spent without family. But as part of the New Year's Resolutions that I don't believe in, I'm going to write more blogs. Anyway, back to the story...

I used to get all bent out of shape about having a great New Year's Eve, and then end up horribly disappointed when things don't go well. Then, I read this article by my hero Lester Bangs, where he essentially said too much is put on a night that will never be what we expected it to be, and much like I could do (but won't waste the space), he listed the experiences he had had on New Year's Eves gone past, and all of them were mediocre nights at best. So, this year, I didn't even have noble intentions of having a great New Year. I was meant to go out with a few co-workers but I ended up not getting in touch with one of them, so my night was spent watching cartoons and drinking Mai Tais, and it was probably the best New Year's holiday I've had in awhile.

Yesterday I had the laziest first day of the New Year ever. I think I slept about 14 hours throughout the day. I didn't cook dinner. I basically read and watched movies and lounged about. Lazy. But tomorrow, I swear, I swear, as the main part of my resolution, I'm going to get to working hard at the office and being more ambitious all around. Vague at best, but it's all you are going to get out of me in terms of resolutions.

Tomorrow should prove to be a pretty busy day if it works out all right. An interview in Bismarck (100 miles away) and a city commission meeting and a bit of writing in between. Fun!

Anyway, this post is boring even to me (and I love to write about myself) so I am off to listen to Magnetic Fields and drinking a bastardized version of a Hurricane and probably reading some of the new books I got for Xmas (Oh yeah, mental note, I should at least write about my Xmas...a post for next time).

The Crippler, out!