Autumn & Cake

The Things I've Done For Girls

2009-11-11T19:41:00.001-05:00

I pretended to know
the verses to Christmas
carols for a chance
to see a Mormon
girl’s underwear,
or maybe to give
her something
(a not so Silent Night)
to confess the next week.

Another,
she was wrapped up
tight, in layers,
her young legs
trampolining under
blankets and towels
in an effort to feel
better about herself,
even if only for a year

while we were
crouched, hidden,
behind a hotel
bathroom door
in a receiving position
while the marching band
director searched the room.

The next
must have had a thing
for unimpressive oil
paintings; we made
out on a park bench
for at least an hour,
repeated gestures
back and forth
in an effort to make me
feel better about her.
I left her sitting there,
worrying
a hard candy in her mouth —
so pretty, that little pink oyster.

Congratulations

2009-11-11T19:40:00.003-05:00

Winning a year’s worth
of pizza, I would celebrate
by filling the vacant face
of an electrical outlet
with the tail
of my blow-dryer
and going for a swim.

You don’t understand:
I have skinned fetal pigs,
cut the tail off a cat
(it was already dead, but still);
I’ve tied Barbies
to the branches
of a willow tree,
their plastic legs like
a diver’s, kicking air.

I could’ve been
a successful
serial killer.
Not to say I can’t still be,
but I might be past
my prime.

Shopping List

2009-11-11T19:40:00.001-05:00

Standing in the checkout line,
I cheated on my wife
with a woman in a wig.
She towered above me,
luminously powdered
lavender, her nose
softly crooked;
a sort-of living
version of Sargent’s
Madame X.

I was buying socks
with piano keys
and bowling alleys,
when my father asked me
to ask my mother
the name of a cat
they once had.

Chopping vegetables
for a salad, I stare
into the cavity
of an olive, and
I imagine the nameless
cat decaying,
its eyes like dried
blueberries sitting
in its skull.

Sparks

2009-11-11T19:38:00.000-05:00

Blonde goddess on public transportation,
I would bow to you in an instant —
touch my knees to this dirty floor
in recognition of the half-moons
of your fingernails.
I am training
my eye to find beauty
in landfills, empty swimming pools,
the underbellies of cars,
and the gaping sockets in gums.
Around my heart is a lock
made of paper, and it is
beginning to smolder
and throw sparks;
it is talking to the pilot light
on my oven, and I come home
every night
to find my house
burned down.

Notches

2009-10-17T18:30:00.000-04:00

We are made in the dark,
swimming, growing nauseatingly
slow. It is not worth
it. Everyone had a terrible childhood.
How do you deal with such bigness
in such a small space?
How do you tell a child they will
never see their friends again
in a way they understand?
You sit up front,
and turn up the rising
percussion against their gasping,
ragged breaths.

Now, she is playing a piano
big enough for a blue whale,
and the music makes you want
to cry
until the color is gone from your eyes.

He is holding his guitar
in the same way he would wrestle
a baby alligator.
You want to be his amp,
screaming, receiving
signals.
It makes you
want to cover yourself
in tattoos
and never worry
about wearing a wedding dress.

One night, you feel
a shifting within.
Things cannot be compared
anymore,
and you delicately wrap
a brown leather belt around
your neck,
and listen to the sound
of a truck backing up outside,
bleating like a large tropical bird.

How To Develop Photos

2009-10-17T18:29:00.002-04:00

Step one:
Close the door behind you,
and turn off all the lights.
Begin sweating, and hearing
things that are probably
motions of a serial killer,
waiting, somehow seeing.
Think of your mother and what she is
doing right now; the way she says
the word “pillow”; the large
cardboard dollhouse she made you
when you contracted chickenpox.
Think about the way your cat looks
like a fat, striped egg
when she tucks her paws underneath.

Step two:
Begin developing -
you should already have mixed
the chemicals and have them ready.
You can turn on the lights now,
and begin cursing
as you spill fixer on your
new grey peacoat and remember
that the girl you are completely
obsessed with hasn’t looked at you
recently. Decide not to eat lunch
today, afterall.

Step three:
After washing the negatives for ten minutes,
unroll them from the spool
and see that they are completely
blank -
as vacuous as the face
of your ex-lover when you told them
this time,
you were really leaving.

Lovesong with A Hairshirt

2009-10-17T18:29:00.001-04:00

While the cat licks my hands
as if they are an extension
of her own small body
(her love is critical and harsh),

you eye your watch,
wondering how many
more years
you have to stay with me
before they won’t call you
a quitter.

You laugh with the babysitter,
hand her a small check.
I can sense warmth radiating
off of her, like a package
fresh off the postal truck
in the summer.
I admire her pale hinges,
silent muscles,
secret organs.

I want to have daughters
wrapped up in church
dresses, bound with
large ribbons. I want
to attend
their pizza parties
and see the red lipstick
on the muzzles of their teachers.

Two deer are in the median
on the way home,
stuck
with metal between them
and their fleecy dens,
in a place they were
never supposed to be.
To think, there are places
we couldn’t reach if we tried.

Chincoteague

2009-10-17T18:28:00.001-04:00

I look through the bottom of my glass,
through the crescent of water,
at the girls with the legs
of newborn thoroughbreds.
I will never see them naked.
Tan, thinly-muscled stems
trotting them home, wrapping around
the waist of some man.

Tonight will be a night of loss.
You used to ask me if I would ever leave
you, and I would tell you,
no, not until you are done with me.

I hid my hand in your hair,
a mourning dove in its nest,
and thought about being
cut loose -
a balloon, rising until
I became only a pinpoint
of color that made your eyes water
to look for.

35th Birthday

2009-10-17T18:27:00.000-04:00

The cake I made is still sitting
on the table,
wedges of it gone.
Last night, I dreamed of
white frosting
on your lips, your pink
tongue like a feather.

I try to feel your presence
in the house this morning,
but you are gone,
out in the slow autumn rain,
your brown hair becoming fuzzy.

Over and over,
flipping open
the cover of the book you gave me
reveals the same thing -
your almost illegible handwriting:
you slay me.

In my dream, you kissed me,
frosting and feather and all,
and my wife appeared -
she stood in the doorway,
silent, watching.

Scissors

2009-05-05T14:18:00.003-04:00

[sonnet-esque]

Into the night we drank and stained our clothes
with warm wine and scotch and champagne from your brother.
The TV sat lonely, playing yesterday’s shows
repeating themselves, one after another.
You talked often, and mentioned many trips.
Your hair was long, you’d dyed it blonde again.
I pulled out the scissors, giving imaginary snips,
and you shrieked, and smiled over your champagne.
Some hours passed, the scissors still on the table;
I stared at their shape and you picked them up.
With thin limbs swaying, you stood suddenly, unstable.
“Cut my hair,” you said. “We’ll put it in a measuring cup.”
If not for the wine, I would’ve never dared.
But at six a.m., there it was: four cups of yellow hair.

Lions

2009-05-05T14:18:00.002-04:00

[blank verse]

I saw a man get eaten at the zoo.
People screamed and ran, but I stood still, just
waiting for you to return from the hot
dog stand. You forgot my relish. We watched
the police cars come screaming down the street.
They made us leave with no refund, and you
were angry. A cop asked me if I saw
where the lion went, and I told him no.
Later you whispered, “I hope he got away.”

A Sestina for Miss Pitiful

2009-05-05T14:17:00.002-04:00

[sestina]

There are moments when she wishes to break
everything in the house - dishes, lamps, whatever she can find,
to see the delicate porcelain patterns come crashing down.
There are moments when she wishes to create something
beautiful. Something she can come home to.
And yet, these moments always pass, nothing ever comes of them.

Each day seems the same, looking back on them.
Her life isn’t difficult, but still, she wants a break
from the mundane, the fits of rage, the lost belongings she can’t find.
She catches herself always looking down
at the ground, or her feet. She runs into things.
She watches ants; wonders where they’re crawling to.

Sometimes she has tea with a friend or two,
but she feels she can’t relate to them.
One is always cheerful, the other complains of a heart that’s broken.
A person she can talk to has always been hard to find -
her mother is vacationing in Africa, and her psychologist puts her down.
They both have more important things.

Meals for one are dismal things.
She once had a fiance, but he grew tired of her, too,
and left her with the property that once belonged to both of them.
These are some of the things she would often like to break,
but a bicycle for two is just too hard to find.
She tried to ride it alone once, but kept falling down.

Her mother sent her pillows of down,
but her cat saw them as playthings.
My cat likes killing birds, so why not goose pillows, too,
she thought, and she had laughed.
Her cat was killed a week later, when someone failed to brake.
The driver was never found.

I Have Measured Out My Life With Coffee Spoons

2009-05-05T14:17:00.001-04:00

[villanelle]

A breakfast of coffee and sugar, alone.
Her large house is so empty this year.
The creek gurgles, softly, over the stones.

She painted the house the color of bone
and left out birdseed for the deer.
A breakfast of coffee and sugar, alone.

She does not care how tall the grass has grown;
she puts old pearl earrings in her ears.
Still, the creek gurgles, softly, over the stones.

She has been here on her own
for a while. She has seen the geese disappear.
A breakfast of coffee and sugar, alone.

It has been a long time since a party was thrown,
but she remembers them dancing under the chandelier.
The creek gurgles, softly, over the stones.
A breakfast of coffee and sugar, alone.

Hiding From Tornadoes

2009-05-05T14:16:00.002-04:00

We used to hide
in the downstairs half-bath
and listen, as outside
tornadoes made their path
through neighborhoods and elms.

My mom would wake me,
softly, and carry me down the wooden stairs.
In our three acres of yard, we didn’t have one tree
near the house, but we still hid there,
away from the windows, all four of us.

Framed pictures would rattle against the walls,
and the sky would become a dense grey curtain.
My parents would venture into the hall,
to get a flashlight, or the radio, to be more certain
that we would be okay, there was no need to worry.

I felt slightly guilty, sitting barefoot on the cold tile,
because I found it exciting: to hear the sirens
warning people, to sit in the dark for awhile.

In school, we’d learned to cover our heads
with a book, in case debris began flying.
But it never did, and everyone would
return to class, pretending not to be disappointed.

Dentist, Gambler, Gunfighter

2009-05-05T14:16:00.001-04:00

[elegy]

You are a mythological figure from the Old West,
forever coughing up whiskey and dealing Faro,
with one hand resting
on a double barrel under the table.

The hands that once were so quick
with teeth on 56 Elm Street,
are now folded primly against your chest,
where you lay in an uncertain grave.

Where would you have lived
in this day and time?
Las Vegas could not contain you;
two guns blazing, tie and diamond stickpin always in place.

On Friday nights, I like to think
that I, too, can gamble and win.
Whenever I pull a large pile of chips
across the felt, I think of you.

You died alone, feverish and sallow in sockfeet.
No Wyatt Earp or Big Nose Kate at your side,
no longer anyone’s huckleberry:
“Well I’ll be damned. This is funny.”

The House in Heatherwood

2009-05-05T14:15:00.000-04:00

[ode]

You stood huge and white,
the Southern Victorian queen
of three grass-green acres;
a dusty driveway snaking through.

Your porch served as a home
to faded rocking chairs,
children eating frozen sweet tea,
and dogs hiding from fireworks.

Your treasures were many:
a sweltering cubby hole filled with stuffed animals,
an attic with cotton candy walls,
and two staircases: one carpet, one oak.

For twelve years you were
our tornado shelter,
the walls for our calendars,
the setting for birthday parties,
and the last place
we were a family.

Five Revelations

2009-05-05T14:14:00.000-04:00

(inspired by Dean Young's "Ten Inspirations")

1. You decide to take a walk.
You have no shoes, umbrella,
sunglasses, sidewalk, or
estimated time of arrival.
You sell your cockatoo back
to the pet store.

2. You want a tuna fish sandwich.
You do not have any bread,
mayonnaise, or tuna. No can opener,
no sharks. You drive to the store,
buy lobsters, and listen to them
scream as they fall into the blistering water.
You have no idea how to eat them.

3. You want to send your brother
a care package. You can’t remember
his favorite candy, magazines, or
songs. You can’t find any photographs
of the two of you together.
You drink a whole bottle of wine instead.

4. You decide to make a stuffed animal.
You have needles, thread,
cotton batting, button-eyes,
and a wildlife encyclopedia.
You begin making a blue whale,
to scale.

5. You decide to fall in love.
You have no boy or girl,
no witticisms or movie tickets.
Just a house full of corduroy whale.
You stare at strangers on the subway,
for a week, until you catch your own eye
in the window’s reflection.

postcard poem

2009-03-20T18:44:00.002-04:00

[heroic couplets]

Tonight I will make dinner for our guests.
Clear off the table, and lay out our best
porcelain plates in shades from blue to black.
We will sit and eat, and rest our weary backs
that worked all day, for hours, to cook or clean.
Then go outside, under the sky and a smoke screen
that our guests exhale from their lips stained red
from the wine that they drank while eating our bread.
The conversation will slow,
and the two guests will go,
and we will retire to our bed for the night -
the one piled with three blankets, two of them white.

Self-Portrait Of Myself As A Teenage Boy

2008-05-06T01:19:00.002-04:00

I will bring you bunches of purple
flowers, because your eyes curve when you smile
and it makes me
want to celebrate. I want to experience
the humidity of you, your close proximity;
we could be magnets.

Strong magnetic fields are present that could
make some items suddenly fly

It’s springtime again and everything
is alakazam! (magically) blooming -
speaking of blooming -
I earned my merit badge in french-kissing
when I was thirteen.
Back then, my days seemed to consist
of french-fry smells/shelves of CDs/
my father pacing in his business suit.
I was a burned cake, a failed family recipe.

I was just about to ask,
how much do you love me?
when those four handsome boys
in matching t-shirts smiled at you,
and here I am, with a handful of wilted petals.

Disposable

2008-04-14T21:04:00.001-04:00

I buy sunglasses whether or not I look good in them, if I like the frames.
Behind cheap blue plastic and mirrored lenses,
no one can see you getting dewy-eyed
over a dead pigeon.

Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight

Thursday morning:
perfect, pearly-pink intestines
coiled beside a tiny grey
kitten at the end
of the bridge.

You know I love you,
but I've got news; we're gonna have to get rid of you

In July heat, a brown dog’s
haunches sticking
out of a dumpster.

And now I’m ready to feel your hand
And now I wanna be your dog

The Beatles sing “Good Day Sunshine” and
a yellow cat is taken
out with the morning’s trash.

Barren

2008-04-07T00:36:00.001-04:00

(an imitation of Lucie Brock-Broido)

Throughout four acres of empty trees, a single mourning dove is cooing
For amaranth from its half-built nest, echoing between humid sheets of fog.

In the parlor of the manor, a young woman in a worn dress
Of black velvet twines her fingers in her lap and pretends not to cry

Over the empty cradle, the tiny leather shoes, her breasts
That ache in vain.

The Bearer

2008-03-09T22:52:00.000-04:00

The Bearer
(an imitation of William Olsen's “Gods and Goddesses”)

Balmy evening when we heard soles of tennis shoes slapping sidewalks while we sat on our tiny hill of a front lawn ignoring the pressure of brittle grass into our palms and watched stupidly as our friend’s only son with arms full of something limp and awkward approached us with heavy breathing and sweaty limbs and on the verge of dampening dead fur with teenage tears said that he was sorry even though there was nothing he could do but watch as the car ran over our last dog.

Thursday

2008-03-02T22:12:00.000-05:00

(a loose imitation of “Equus” by Austin Hummell)

She sits in the bathtub, watching
her soft brown hair pool around her, the brunette
strands of seaweed clinging to foam,
her face distorted in the faucet -
a silver reflection that she watches while
saying softly one two three four five,
all the way to sixty, and then starts again,
until twelve minutes have passed,
and she says to herself he is late, two hours late.

She has never worn lipstick,
because her mother taught her to play
the clarinet at age eight,
and she has since kept the instrument
immaculate, playing almost every evening,
strengthening her embouchure, pressing
pale fingers onto silver keys as if she were
dialing the phone to reach someone
of great importance - gently but with purpose.
Silent evenings, she would turn the house
into a vessel for the notes she created,
each one played with a subconscious,
yearning hope that it would bring her father home early.

The front door opens with such force
that the metal doorknob kisses the wall, hard,
leaving a bruise on the wallpaper. Her knees
jerk, sending a small wave over the edge of the porcelain,
and she barely avoids tumbling while impulsively
grabbing her green robe instead of a towel.
She thanks her forgetfulness for leaving the
keys in the car, and slides barefoot between rose bushes
and through the back screen door, letting it slam.

Miss Dashed Hopes

2008-02-25T00:13:00.002-05:00

(an imitation of Laura Kasischke's poetry)

To have been the meat in the jaws of a wolf. To have been a handkerchief tied around a headache, set on fire (while the cat
gave birth to two kittens,

both dead).
To base the outcome

of your romance
on a raven’s beak. Or the way the bedsheet crumples

between kneecaps and nightmares.
(Do not bother her, her eyes are postcards,
she buys things in pairs.) To have been the seatbelt
that saved the child. To have been

the metal frame of an umbrella, stabbed into cake. Or the yellow of hair
snared in a brush. Like the nest

of wasps in the cabinet. Such concentrated worry. (Will it ever
end?) Twenty songs in one night. All the trumpets and bass drums
sounding out

their final notes against the dusk.
(I’ll beat on this drum ‘till I’m dead)

Once, I heard my brother punch a hole in the wall we shared. My father returned
his birthday gift, unopened. Once, someone stared
and asked, “Did you see that shooting star?”

It was gone,
but I looked anyway,
as if it could have frozen, just for me. To have been

that star, and to have become the black sky.

Marc Bolan Stands In Line at the Airport Behind Piet Mondrian

2008-02-17T23:54:00.000-05:00

[an imitation of Patrick Lawler's poetry]

1.
I prefer swans to airplanes, but since safety precautions for traveling have increased, I went with Delta.

The top of my top hat is a mirror, for those taller than me. It makes being looked down upon more bearable.

Predicting one’s own death is pretty impressive. I know you don’t believe in the color green, but the way the trees came crashing through my windshield might’ve changed your mind. Talk about the fundamentals of nature.
I heard you’ve just begun to extend your lines past the edge of the canvas, and here I am getting glitter on your bowtie.
My problem is my imagination; it won’t all fit in my suitcase. Perhaps you could take a few Ziploc bags of it with you.

2.
I can help the next person in line.

Will you help me roll,
Help me roll, to my soul

Will you be checking any luggage for this flight?

Ride it on out like a bird in the sky-ways
Fly it all out like an eagle in a sunbeam

Here’s your boarding pass, sir. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your tiger at the gate.

I ain't no square with my corkscrew hair

3.
It’s hard to make a tea party out of peanuts and ginger ale.
I have eaten chocolate with Ringo Starr. I have seen him cry while driving a car. I don’t think the situations were related.

I ain’t no square

Arizona's Monsoon

2008-02-10T20:47:00.000-05:00

[imitation of Davis McCombs's poetry]

He was looking for a new experience, something
that could develop and be held
up to the light of his memory;
pieces of Coconino County to be remembered alongside
the familiar flora and fauna of Bluefield and Greenbrier.
The summer was shifting, and the sky had suddenly grown
thick with clouds that hugged the vast horizon,
their color reminiscent of the contusion that had formed
on his daughter’s pale forehead the day before.
He quickened his pace towards Antelope Canyon,
the deep, underground chasm beckoning;
dust-devils beginning to form around the tourist
attraction’s entry. He stopped
to look at the darkening empyrean again, and descended
into the sandstone’s curves; the narrow, twisting
hallways were now empty except for the brilliant bursts
of lightning that skimmed the surface of the walls,
exposing the canyon to a much brighter degree
than his camera’s flash could hope to achieve.
The desert stood silent for twenty seconds;
he began to count each moment in a whisper, feeling
very alone, before the clouds’ underbellies were unchained
and every grain of sand was rearranged,
each seed of the pinyon was washed away.

Eighteen

2008-02-04T20:22:00.001-05:00

[imitation of Jan Beatty's poetry]

Eighteen
In my black Chuck Taylors,
I walk the crack
of the sidewalk; a miniature Route 66
tearing through cement slabs:
California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas.
Phoenix never gets below sixty-five,
even in January.
And oh,
how I crave that heat -

the just-opened-oven-door-warmth, sweat-running-down-the-small-of-your-back, scorching-waves-beating-off-concrete, teenage-backseat-heat.

We used to gather on the golf course at night, sliding fingers under belt buckles and zippers; drinking until enough people threw up/the sprinklers came on/the sun came up.
I think Tyler and Brittney are having sex in the bushes.
John just left with those two freshman girls - he said he had a video camera.

Wear your tightest jeans, it’s Friday night.

Playlist 1

2008-01-20T15:07:00.000-05:00

Playlist from Mayday Dance Party,
Jan. 18th '08

[DJ Paper Doll]

Blocalicious (DJ Schmolli Remix) - Bloc Party/Fergie
Pure Magic - Girl Talk
Bird Flu - M.I.A.
Sexual Eruption - Snoop Dogg
Touch Me - Spank Rock
Just What I Needed (Tittsworth Edit) - The Cars
Giddy Up - The Hives
Blue Orchid (High Contrast Remix) - White Stripes
Girlfriend - TTC

Romantic Rights (Marczech Makuziak Remix) - DFA 1979
Jigglin' (Tittsworth Edit) - Ying Yang Twins/Switch
Wild Thing - Tone-Loc
Genius Of Love - Tom Tom Club
Guilt By Association - Louis XIV
I Got Grapes - Nump feat. M.I.A.
Alphabet Man - Greenskeepers
Skitzo Dancer (Justice Remix) - Scenario Rock

Just What You Were Expecting

2008-01-14T18:56:00.000-05:00

Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I decided to finally post my top albums of the year list.
However, I really tried to keep this short. You don't need me to tell you in length what each album is like; if you're interested, go look the artist up and check it out.
If it's mentioned here, it's definitely worth it!

HERE WE GO -
TOP TEN ALBUMS OF 2007, WITH A BRIEF COMMENT OR MEMORY FOR EACH.
10. "Leaves In The River" - Sea Wolf
[Disclaimer: I now disagree with my choice for this spot, but that's what I submitted to the radio station for my list. More about this later.]
9. "Sound of Silver" - LCD Soundsystem
I actually heard this back in December 2006, and I'll never forget listening to it on repeat while walking to a party and, unfortunately, freezing my ass off instead of shaking it.
8. "Kala" - M.I.A.
Turn this on, see Liz dance.
7. "The Scenery Of Farewell" - Two Gallants (I know it's an EP, but fuck it. It's that good.)
The track "Seems Like Home To Me" from this release makes me want to cry everytime I hear it.
6. "...and the Family Telephone" - Page France
Absolutely perfect for Spring and Summer. You can't frown to this music.
5. "The Reminder" - Feist
I've listened to this album so many times, in so many different situations. I'm not usually a big fan of female vocalists, for whatever reason, but Feist totally had me at "1234".
4. "Person Pitch" - Panda Bear
I'm still amazed with this album. So many good samples, such simple lyrics, and countless emotions evoked with each listen.
3. "The Flying Club Cup" - Beirut
This album makes me want to dance and sing, but in a completely different way. "Achingly beautiful", and "breath-taking" come to mind when trying to describe this.
2. "Strawberry Jam" - Animal Collective
I remember this leaking in frustrating increments, slowly, over the summer. And listening to it with the volume turned up, driving with the windows down. "For Reverend Green" is now one of my all-time favorite A.C. tracks.
1. "Boxer" - The National
The best live act I saw in 2007. I wanted to close my eyes and cry, right there. But I didn't, and I got to hold the door open for them into the show. There is never a bad time to play The National.

Okay, so about that #10 spot: Sea Wolf is awesome, but looking back over the whole year, that album doesn't really deserve a place in the top ten... I just got really infatuated with it in December. Oops!
You may be wondering (but probably aren't), what would I choose for #10? I don't know. There's a handful (maybe more like an armload) of good albums that could easily fit there.
So, here are the leftovers from making my list:

MORE GREAT ALBUMS FROM 2007 THAT AREN'T IN A LIST BUT SHOULD NOT BE IGNORED BY ANY MEANS.
"Bangers and Cash" - Spank Rock & Benny Blanco
This EP was the first stuff I'd heard from Spank Rock. And it changed my booty's life.

"Kurr" - Amiina
The girls in Amiina make me jealous - they get to play with Sigur Ros, and the music they make is so beautiful, I'd have it as the soundtrack to my dreams every night if I could.

"It's A Bit Complicated" - Art Brut
I can relate all too well to the first track on this album: an upbeat, 3-minute confession about stopping during a makeout session to turn up the volume on a good song. The other songs are just as charming.

"Total Magique" - We Are Wolves
I'm a sucker for wolves and bands with them in their name, so that's already a plus for these guys. But seriously, this album is full of howling vocals, crunchy guitars, and thick synth - perfect for dancing in the dark.

"Bring On The Comets" - VHS or Beta
This album completely consumed a week of my life - it's that catchy. Too bad the guys were pretty big assholes live. (They took hours upon hours to set up, before the opening bands even went on, and wouldn't let anyone in the hall until they were done. But they did thank me and my roommate personally for starting the dance party halfway through their set. Yeh!)

"Turbo Fruits" - Turbo Fruits
Originally part of Be Your Own Pet, these guys know how to make a short, good, rock song. At 15 songs, the album seems lengthy for a debut, but it flies by quickly when you're happily bouncing to it on the way to class.

"A Lesson In Crime" - Tokyo Police Club
One of the very few bands that I heard about through watching TV this year, these guys made the single "Cheer It On", which was awesome on its own before being remixed into a super-sweet track by the likes of Gregg Gillis (Girl Talk) in his new duo, Trey Told 'Em.

"Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga" - Spoon
I'll be honest: I have a huge amount of Spoon in my library, but I never listened to them much. Then, this album leaked, and I immediately chastised myself for not getting into them sooner. This baby could very possibly be my #10.

"Graduation" - Kanye West
Oh, Kanye. Will you ever cease to amaze? If you're looking for an album to play in the wee hours, try putting this one on. There's nothing like having Kanye say "Good Morning".

"French Quarter" - French Quarter
I haven't heard anyone else mention this band, but I found them on a blog a few months ago. With it's woozy guitars, perfect percussion, and warm vocals, this is an album that you can really cozy up to in the colder months.

"Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon" - Devendra Banhart
I didn't get a chance to really listen to this release until a couple of months after it came out, save for playing a few tracks from it during my radio shift. Once I did sit down and give it a listen, I immediately remembered why I love Devendra's music so much.

"Mirrored" - Battles
Not the type of music I'm usually drawn to, Battles intrigued me with their technical yet almost tribal math rock. I wasn't the only one they won over - I've had more than a few friends who really got into this album who I wouldn't have expected to. You could be one of them!

"†" - Justice
"D.A.N.C.E." was one of my favorite tracks of the year, and its music video got my vote for Video Of The Year, as well. "Newjack" and "Tthee Ppaarrttyy" are also awesome dancefloor-fillers, along with the various remixes this French duo has put out. I can't wait to see what they come out with this year.

Last but not least...
possibly my favorite song of 2007:
"Sexual Eruption", by yes, Mr. S-N-double O-P D-O-double G.
Download it here.

I think that about wraps things up.
What do you say?

A request

2008-01-12T00:07:00.000-05:00

I want

champagne on my lips,
your lips on my back.
Sun to make me sweat,
a dancefloor.
To pull bark off a twig,
pants off of you.
Music so loud you can't speak,
sugar on everyone's tongues.
A warm hand on my thigh
under my party dress,
walking barefoot after high heels.
A rugburn on my elbow,
jaw aching from laughter.
Your hair between my fingers,
your fingers under bra straps.
Noisily sleeping,
an arm draped over my hip.

"Why can't I trust anyone, no, not even me?"

2008-01-05T17:32:00.000-05:00

Tell me some good news.
Anyone?
I wouldn't believe it, anyway.

A pocketful of crumbs
couldn't even do the job
the trail's
lost
sabotage loves me
the way
a tapeworm must love
my intestines
with hope having slid out of me
various times
in the past two days
it's just as
disgusting every
time
consolation comes
at such a high
price
I've forgotten what you taste like.

White-knuckled

2007-12-22T21:28:00.000-05:00

This has to stop.
Once was far too many times, right?
Some advice - that song by .38 Special, "Hold On Loosely" -
yeah, just like that.
A twenty year-old shouldn't be acting like a puppy dog,
no matter how cute it may seem at first.
We've discussed this ad nauseum, I've made myself nauseous ad nauseum,
one of us should wear a leash.
I feel
sick, but I'm sure
that would be the best solution
to my symptoms
of today and next year.

high fructose corn syrup

2007-12-11T17:52:00.001-05:00

I walked around a lot today.
I didn't enjoy any of it until this evening, on my last trip home for the day - partly because I didn't have to hurry, but mostly because the humidity level had finally let up (somewhat). The streets were still wet with all the rain we've had lately, and all the street lights and holiday lights reflected off the pavement. The air smelled something like a carwash, mixed with the scent of restaurants cooking various food - for some reason, I thought of nights in Arizona. Even though the town was tiny, I always loved walking at night time there, too - nothing exciting ever happened, but it seemed like it could once the sun went down and the few neon signs came on.
My senior year, if it wasn't too cold and no one's parents were out of town, darkness meant that it was time for high schoolers to gather on the golf course and drink - whether you were underage or not. Being twenty-one there didn't carry much weight (it mostly meant you could buy alcohol for your younger friends), since there were two bars and neither one was really a desirable place to spend your time. Once, on the green, I saw two guys chug a beer and have a puking contest. Who won (or what the point was), I don't remember, but I do recall a very drunk young girl who slipped on the damp grass and fell into their contest remnants.
I can't imagine how exciting it must be to walk at nighttime in a real city. I wonder how the magic compares.

Plans for tonight:
-Attempt video project
-Distract Bear while he's trying to study for a really important final that I cannot even comprehend the subject matter of (calculus)
-Look over drawings I brought home from my locker
-Stare at the tickets I received in the mail (LOUIS XIV AND HOT HOT HEAT! Oh, and Editors.)
-Pass out after the effects of my earlier energy drink wear off

postcard poem

2007-11-20T20:47:00.000-05:00

La Fête

A knife in your right hand
your hair in my fist
this rug's drenched
in sunshine
pale eyelids
still drawn
I can see you dreaming
of her.

A vial of hope & a vial of pain

2007-11-17T03:09:00.001-05:00

Tonight:
Saw Darjeeling Limited. One of my most anticipated movies of this year... and it did not disappoint! I can't wait to see it again... and again.
One of my favorite things about the movie was simply the chemistry between the actors/characters - really amazing. There were a lot of moments that made me want to chuckle and tear up at the same time.
After the movie, some friends and I went back to one of our apartments and made drinks/played video games/played drinking games.
An awesome way to spend my last night in Morgantown before Thanksgiving break.

Only one thing: I have to go "home" tomorrow. For a week.

P.S. Watch this awesome interactive flash video for the song "Neon Bible":
http://www.beonlineb.com/click_around.html

4 Bands For The Price Of One

2007-11-11T15:07:00.000-05:00

Honor, Matt, and I drove up to Pittsburgh last night to see Casiotone For The Painfully Alone play at Garfield Artworks. I'd never been to the venue, and I was pleasantly surprised - not only was the show $7 (to see four bands!) but the atmosphere was really genuine and welcoming.
Posters from all the previous shows lined the walls, and a table with free posters was off to the side. Candy, Yuengling, and other snacks were on another plastic table. About thirty various chairs were arranged in the narrow room, in small rows in front of the stage. Some were folding chairs, others were raggedy stools or tiny seats upholstered in floral designs.
After exploring the downstairs bathroom, we took three seats in the second row. The first act to go on was Elliott Sussman, a man clad in a wine-colored velvet suit, cotton tie, and grey fedora. I was somewhat wary due to his solo setup and various acoustic instruments, seeing as how this was probably going to be a pretty long night, I hoped it wasn't going to start off slowly. I've never been more happy to be wrong - Sussman immediately opened on guitar & kazoo with a happy, old-fashioned tune about his sweetheart, called "Bugaloo". Every song he played was wonderfully sweet and fun, with his scat-singing, banjo-ukulele, and love for crowd participation. The only thing that made me sad about Elliott Sussman was the fact that he didn't stick around or sell merchandise after the show was over.
Second to play was Steve Goldberg & The Arch-Enemies, a three person band (I'd heard one of their songs previously, since their album is currently in rotation at U92). Steve was on guitar and lead vocals, with the Arch-Enemies on drums and violin/back-up vocals. Their take on indie pop was fairly refreshing, especially with the addition of a few ballads and waltzes. Unfortunately, the violinist's cable kept cutting out, so it was somewhat difficult to hear him, but it was otherwise a great set. Their second-to-last song was a cover of Neutral Milk Hotel's "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea"; a lot of the audience sang along, making the venue feel even more warm and cozy than it had previously.
To Bad Catholics took the stage, and the crowd immediately began to chuckle. Julia and Nick were dressed somewhat like Europeans who visited America in the early 90s might've dressed: cargo jeans, an "Athletic B.U.M. Equipment" t-shirt, too much makeup, an awkward black skirt, and a velvet turtleneck. (In the photo of Matt with the band, Nick had changed clothes. Damn!)
Nick took his place behind a harmonium, and Julia behind a small keyboard. They each had microphones, into which they sang enthusiastically and slightly off-key. Between Julia trying to beat-box, the multiple hand-claps, awkward dance moves, and the fact that Nick's fly was down, To Bad Catholics was probably the most entertaining of the bands that played last night. They left many people in the audience wondering if their odd, embarrassing demeanor was an act or not...
I realized later, at the merch table, that Nick is Nick Krgovich, who I very recently heard a song by on the compilation Worried Noodles. I asked him about it, and he's on it a few times, collaborating with different people. I bought one of his 45s and had him sign it - endearing to say the least.
Finally, Owen Ashworth, better known as Casiotone For The Painfully Alone, came on stage. After setting up what looked like twenty or more cables and cords, and un-packaging at least seven Casios, he began to play "Cold White Christmas". By that time in the evening, all of the chairs were full, and the back of the room was packed as well. Everyone was silent as he sang, and I was hypnotized by the contrast made by his emotional lyrics versus the logistical turning of knobs and pressing of buttons.
My favorite moment was when he played "New Year's Kiss", and right after that song was over, he asked if anyone had any requests. Since he had just played my favorite song of his, I thought of my second-favorite: "Hey Eleanor". A girl in the front row raised her hand and asked for "Jeane, If You're Ever In Portland", which he played next. As soon as the applause ended, people began to shout out other requests, mostly for the one of two songs: I Love Creedence, or Hey Eleanor. Owen simply nodded and began to cue up the next track, and I was delighted to hear that it was Hey Eleanor - although he stopped halfway through and said "I totally fucked that one up, so I'll try Creedence now". After Creedence, he played his final song, a brand-new track called "Silent Sunday" (at least I think that was its name - correct me if I'm wrong).
I bought a Casiotone t-shirt and the Krgovich 45, and we left for Primani Brothers - another new experience for Matt and I. My sandwich was glorious: soft bread packed with three kinds of cheeses, and egg, fries, and coleslaw.
We hit the road, turned the radio up, switched the station every two minutes, and continued to dance and laugh through the night.

Listen to the bands here:
Elliott Sussman
Steve Goldberg & The Arch-Enemies
To Bad Catholics
Casiotone For The Painfully Alone

A couple of videos!
To Bad Catholics:

Casiotone - "Scattered Pearls":

An Accidental Encounter With My Ex-Wife

2007-11-05T22:12:00.001-05:00

An Accidental Encounter With My Ex-Wife

I watch my enemy (and former lover)
widen her jaw
lick her lips -
a graceful beast
in pearls & grey wool,
I’m the sawdust
sprinkled on fresh vomit.
I have trouble
recalling
our quiet street
before houses
and children
grew up around us.
A couple passes -
Do you ever smile like that?
“Not with you,” she says,
“Not in a million years.”
How about in two million?
It seems our beloved
ice cream truck
no longer pedals
confections, but steaks.
These trees
are perfect and static
above your heavy curls -
I have to look away.

circus pony

2007-11-03T14:02:00.000-04:00

I sleep with
your handwriting
beside the bed
penciled loops,
delicate scrawls-
pretending
they make up
a love-note
left
for my morning eyes
but I'm always
blindfolded
into seeing
how that's impossible,
like me leaving
to join the circus
and ride
two white horses,
one foot on each.
balanced in layers
of satin & tulle,
my fantasies
would perform
a dog & pony show,
knife-throwing,
sword-swallowing,
and we would
trapeze,
only to fall.

who's ordinary if everyone's special?

2007-10-04T01:19:00.000-04:00

cardboard stars
dangle from my ceiling fan
hitting each other's chains
hating each other's change
a holy trinity
of fan blade tempos
three speeds aren't enough
to knock the dust off
a report card
"C" isn't up to par
when everyone is expecting
to be
better than average
whether with
batting averages
or average temperatures
in weather
were they ever measured
by men in tweed coats
huddled against sharp snow
or against
just-washed sheets
covered in semen?
it’s possible
i could love you,
because you increase my
appreciation for being
alone
but then, that's just using
love the way
my unfinished dinosaur
skeleton painting
is used as a magnet for
curious compliments
something to keep
my easel company
the dinosaur is indifferent
unmoving
teething nothing
but black acrylic.

girl

2007-10-01T23:27:00.000-04:00

be honest.
how many boys have you kissed
in the past 3 months?
i wish i could show you
a montage
of your lip encounters
& romantic rendezvous
maybe it would mean something -
a more interesting format
than just sticky, tangled sheets
and sweaty necks.
then it's
good morning!
we're fresh out of toast & coffee, sorry,
have another
breakfast of gluey-eyelidded smiles,
dry kisses,
& your-arm-has-fallen-asleep-
but-don't-say-anything-now-
because-his-tongue-is-in-your-mouth
moments.
i'm tired of seeing you so empty -
and keep in mind
that empty doesn't mean the same thing
as alone.

>>

2007-09-27T16:09:00.000-04:00

I'd like to fast-forward, please.
Fast-forward through
stepping back on
public transportation
sitting & yawning
in an art lecture
walking home
uphill
and back here again
to put some songs on the radio
that no one wants to hear
while my friends are at a concert
listening to songs
and cheering.
My diet can't consist of kisses, corn chips, and false hope
alone.
Suddenly, I'm my cat, mewing half-desperately behind her food dish,
I'M STARVING
(for attention)
the minute you leave the room,
the second my bowl is empty.
Someone, push the button.

Again - 2 more new poems

2007-09-25T22:06:00.000-04:00

Describe
-a writing exercise-

My favorite sweater is thick, black, and woolly; always warm
Angus Young is on stage in a t-shirt and jeans
leaving the country for two years with a complete stranger
Rudy's tail was like a worm, his ears constantly twitching
A rat dons a school-boy uniform
I'm the orange peel on the cafeteria floor,
or the sawdust sprinkled on fresh vomit.
My street began quiet, but houses and children grew up around us
The beloved ice cream truck grew wings,
started pedaling steaks instead of confections, while
Foghorn Leghorn punched Teddy Roosevelt in the neck
and my big brother kept stomping on towering anthills

Afternoon Reverie

The softly-prickling, shady-cool
slope of the lawn
fits like a puzzle piece
into the small of your back.
I close my eyes
as the sunlight,
pouring like slow, warm butter,
shifts over our skin.
This is the part where
you roll over and kiss me, all fireworks & desire,
with my eyelids still drawn -
and my fingers find
handfuls of auburn hair
and make a nest there,
like a pale, cooing bird.

2 New Poems

2007-09-24T22:46:00.000-04:00

Another Day Has Come To An End
September 24th, 2007

I’ve become
a dull brown-haired girl
staring at
two unread books
and six over-played records,
spinning slowly through the evening.
Four candles,
flickering from fan blades,
burn in my living room,
and three white ceramic mugs
of wine later,
part of me hopes
that something will
catch fire
when I’m not looking.

Muffin
September 11th, 2007

Eating an (awful) blueberry muffin
alone,
at five-seventeen in the evening
almost places me
(with the softest, gentlest of hands)
into a state
of nervous breakdown.
No part of this library
belongs to me, and
I’m on the edge,
of everything,
all the time.
I push my fingertip into moist crumbs -
I paid good money for this
desperate attempt
to recreate happiness.

Offend In Every Way

2007-09-23T03:25:00.000-04:00

A conundrum:

Consider yourself shy, and others will probably judge you as being snobby, an asshole, or ignorant, all because you don't always say what you're thinking.

Become confident and you'll still get called an asshole, because you're assertive.

I'm not sure what's worse - to be quiet and to be quietly judged,
or to be open & honest, even if you make some enemies while doing so.

Unrelated note:
I don't care if it's lame - "Tiny Vessels" and "Someday You Will Be Loved" by Death Cab make me choke up. Almost every time.

I wish you could bury memories in a time capsule.

2007-09-07T21:57:00.000-04:00

Quixotic notions are what I do best.

If you consistently & consciously set yourself up for disappointment, your life will be full of pleasant little surprises!

Don't sit home alone with a plateful of freshly-baked cupcakes sitting in the kitchen.

Having people critique one of my poems for half an hour makes me feel like I'm sitting in a psychologist's office.

My daily life has reached a point where meals are the most exciting part of my day.
I also put off going to bed, so that I can sleep in later & the days will go by more quickly.

When I think of Autumn, I imagine myself wearing a scarf and going on walks with glowing pink cheeks. In reality, I'll still be sitting here.

Quixotic notions are what I do best.

It's Tuesday.

2007-09-04T00:01:00.000-04:00

My all-time favorite song to listen to while bike-riding is none other than Purple Bottle by Animal Collective.
It's sort of lengthy, which means you have just enough time to daydream, and it's upbeat enough that you don't want to stop pedaling.
Really, I just think Feels is a great album overall to listen to while outdoors, or at least riding in a car with the windows down. (So is Strawberry Jam, but unfortunately, I have some slightly negative connotations with that album now, so I'll have to wait a bit before I can really enjoy it out in the sunshine).

I don't know if I want to be buried when I die.
I don't really want to lie and rot, but at the same time, the whole coffin-and-flowers-and-tombstone bit does have slightly romantic overtones. Someone weeping on a patch of soil and hugging a slab of cold granite in memory of me isn't totally unappealing.
Then again, being cremated might not be too bad. I mean, I could sit on a mantle somewhere and be part of everyday life in that house, and absorb the odors from Thursday nights' lasagna dinners.
I don't want to assume that I have a lot of time to consider & think about these things. Maybe I'll just stick with mummification.

Few things are better than reaching into a box of cereal that has marshmallows (like Lucky Charms) and pulling out a big clump of just the little marshmallow things. Pure, sugary heaven.

Running late.

2007-08-31T12:31:00.000-04:00

Songs from M.I.A.'s album Kala, in order from my most favorite to least:

1. Come Around (features Timbaland)
2. Bird Flu
3. Boyz
4. $20
5. Bamboo Banger
6. Hussel
7. Jimmy
8. Down River
9. XR2
10. The Turn
11. Mango Pickle Down River (This song would be perfectly good if it wasn't for the singing chipmunks or whatever the hell is going on)
12. Paper Planes (Again, I like this song until the chorus kicks in. Then I just wish the machine guns would take me out, too)
SOMEONE TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME ABOUT THIS LIST.

Imaginary monologue:
"Maybe you can catch up to me, in the total number of people you've slept with, and then we can have meetings where we sit around and hate each other and ourselves, and our need for empty affairs, because the only purpose they serve is to act as an affirmation that we aren't utter monsters, or at least, that we can still hide our ugly selves from strangers, if only for one night."

Vegetable cream cheese is delicious on pretzels, chips, bagels (of course), and probably anything else you can think of. It also stays fresh for a lot longer than I expected...which makes me somewhat suspicious.

My cat has been uncharacteristically affectionate lately. Maybe she feels guilty for killing the birds, after all.

As much as everyone complains about sweating and the humidity, I swear I'm the only one that I ever see actually sweating.

I used a turntable during my radio shift for the first time last night! Some guy called in and requested "any Grateful Dead song" for his friend's bachelor party. Suddenly, I felt responsible for these guys' good time. I was always terrified of using one on-air, because I wasn't sure how to start a song exactly at the beginning. I tried it out beforehand and I thought I had it down...but when the time came to start up "Sugar Magnolia", my hands were shaking and I dropped the needle on the end of the 3rd track instead of the beginning of the 4th. Real smooth, right? I just told myself that it was sort of like an intro.

Plans for this weekend: party, meet Michael, watch the game on TV, party, see some local bands, sleep at one point or another, tell Michael goodbye, suddenly remember all of my homework, continue to put off homework until the last minute.

5 Minutes To Spill

2007-08-29T17:27:00.000-04:00

-Florida's Natural Fruit Juice Nuggets are delicious, but couldn't they at least try to make them look more appetizing? I feel like I'm eating some sort of pet food.

-I think I'm wearing a hole through my laptop's trackpad.

-I get mad at my cat for killing birds, and then I remember that my dog used to kill cats, so I let it go.

-I keep drinking wine in the evenings, thinking it will put me in a better mood and motivate me to be more creative with my homework. I just end up weeping, going to bed, and not doing any homework. It's easy to blame the wine.

-My upstairs neighbors still have a bowl of mine. The longer I go without asking for it back, the weirder I imagine it will be when I actually do. I feel like I need to make up an excuse for why I suddenly need it after three months - "I decided to eat cereal this morning, but I just can't allow myself to enjoy Captain Crunch unless I'm eating it from a black bowl. Speaking of black bowls - you still have mine, right?"

-I'd like to record a new song sometime, but I'm afraid to ask about borrowing someone's microphone, because that puts pressure on me to actually record something of value (or anything at all).

-I'm probably the only one who does this, but sometimes while I'm talking to someone, I suddenly think about how I'm the only one talking - and how they're listening to just me - and it sort of freaks me out. I lose all train of thought and start to get embarrassed.

-Most of the time when I write poetry, I realize that I'm really writing it for someone else to read. For tonight's assignment - fuck that.

Collected Thoughts In An Unorganized Manner

2007-08-21T22:20:00.000-04:00

Every time I laugh, I realize how much I've missed doing so.

I liked the tie that my poetry teacher wore today. Knit, green, and navy-striped. Paired with a white button-down, a grey suit-coat, some pants that I can't recall specifically, and New Balances.
His name also has more double letters than any other name I've seen.

As always, the weather has been frustrating. Yesterday, it rained so much that three pairs of my shoes ended up soaked, two different outfits were drenched, and my hair was consistently wet for over 24 hours. Yet, today, it was more humid than I can remember it being all summer. Please, let it be Autumn soon!

Reoccurring daydreams lately:
-My electronic media class somehow helping me become the next Michel Gondry
-How nice it will feel when I can actually enjoy hanging out and relaxing again
-Living in the late 70s/early 80s, hanging out with my late uncle James, and playing Talking Heads albums as they come out
-Sipping wine while finally finishing my dinosaur painting and listening to records on a new record player

ONE DAY, THESE WILL COME TRUE. Well...maybe a couple of them.

Best purchases recently:
Red skinny pants - $7.99 at Gadzooks
LBD - $49 at Pacsun (worth it.)

At least one thing to be excited about in my world:
-The book I got at the library today: "Four Spirits", by Sena Jeter Naslund. I loved her book, "Abundance", a historical-fiction work about Marie Antoinette, and this one seems pretty interesting - and not only because when I opened it to a random page, the first line that caught my eye was: "She hated him. She longed for cruel revenge. To fuck him up the ass until he screamed." Honestly - it should be really good.

Currently searching for:
-The card game "Pit"
-Music by The Hentchmen
-My self-esteem

(A reflection written for drawing class)

2007-08-02T15:49:00.000-04:00

Looking back: September 2006-April 2007

"It's the little things that remind me of how certain months felt. The way a certain shirt will smell of laundry detergent that I used to use, or specific albums that I listened to endlessly. Usually I don't even realize how much of an impact certain events had on me, until those little things raise their heads again.
The first month or so that I was here was filled with a blank depression. I didn't miss home (wherever that is); it came down to pure loneliness. I didn't want to eat alone and see other people making friends - a simple task that most people seem to relish but that makes me break into a cold sweat - so I hid in my room and chose not to eat.
The next period came in a sudden whirlwind of activity. I didn't have time to be alone if that's what I'd wanted. I hurt people because I'd forgotten how to act like a sociable human being. I was so desperate for any kind of attention. The end of the first semester brought the reflection, "These past few months have probably been the best months of my life." That was an exaggeration.
Now, I'm comfortable. I won't go to class in my pajamas, but I can fore-go those when I'm not sleeping alone. I take things for granted, specifically things like having someone who is what both my brain and heart have always wanted. I guess once we get that thing we want, no matter how much we desired it, it seems less important, and that's unfortunate. Nonetheless, he is the most important thing in my life.
My capacity for creative thinking has grown (along with my waistline), and I owe that to a few specific people (and foods). I've learned that I'm never going to be amazing at anything, but now that the pressure is decreasing as far as that goes, I'm more inclined to do what I want (especially in artwork). I can draw a lot better, I'm learning to be less shy, and I never skip dessert. But, I still wear the same shoes that I have for four years, even though all the seams are busting."
-from my sketchbook for freshman year art classes

Concert Memoir: The White Stripes

2007-07-30T23:11:00.000-04:00

First off, this was my second time seeing the White Stripes (I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to see my favorite band twice!) and I enjoyed this show just as much as the first time I saw them.
However, it was a pretty different experience...

CONCERT COMPARISON TIME!
1st Time (In Phoenix):
-the venue was a huge old theater
-I had assigned seats (not bad seats, they were in the 2nd row, but still seats nonetheless)
-I went to the show with my boyfriend whom I'd recently broken up with and hadn't seen in a couple of weeks (see: awkward city)
-Most of the material they played was off their latest release, Get Behind Me Satan
-They had various decorations on stage and their backdrop was black with a glowing white apple that later turned red
-Jack and Meg were in somewhat elaborate costume
-Their encore consisted of mostly covers (Jolene, De Ballad Of De Boll Weevil)

...as opposed to:
2nd Time (In Fairfax):
-the venue was a large college stadium
-I had floor seats (We were fairly close, but I got sick and had to leave for a period of time, so when we got back we were farther away...and I'm shorter than most of the people that were there, so it was hard to see at times. Still better than assigned seats, though)
-Attended the show with my loving boyfriend :)
-Only played 4 songs off their newest album, Icky Thump... a lot of older material was included
-Simpler stage setup, with a solid red backdrop - it did have 2 giant steps in front of it, though, that Jack strutted on a couple of times
-Awesome light effects, courtesy of a large spinning disco ball that reflected red and white lights
-Meg and Jack were more casually dressed
-The encore actually didn't include Jolene

Similarities:
-Both shows opened with "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground"
-Both included "Seven Nation Army" in their encore sets
-Both were fucking awesome

I was really glad that I got to hear "Screwdriver" live again. It's probably my favorite White Stripes song, or one of my very top favorites. Icky Thump was amazing live, especially when Jack made it a medley with "When I Hear My Name". There were actually a lot of songs that he mixed together...especially using some of their oldest material. That was exciting for me, because I think some of their best songs, or at least most entertaining, are on their debut album.
So, I may not have gotten any M&Ms from one of Jack's bodyguard look-a-likes this time (sugar never tasted so good), but I DID almost run into them when I was leaving the backstage area, after being sick (the nurse). Too bad I didn't get to actually see them back there.
Seen this summer: The National, The White Stripes
Hopefully seeing soon: Animal Collective (in September)

Rambles

2007-07-25T20:27:00.000-04:00

After more than a month of not posting anything new...

I'm feeling better about things. Just generally better. I'm not even sure what was going on the past month, but...I think, and hope, that it's gone for good.
The White Stripes concert is this weekend! I feel so lucky to be seeing them again. If it wasn't for my boyfriend, I wouldn't even be able to go, since I can't drive...I doubt anyone else would've been willing to take me. I hope we can get reasonably close to the stage. Who am I kidding? I hope we can get so close that they drip sweat on us and I can see the hairs on Jack's chinny-chin-chin.
I have so much free time now that all I seem to do is analyze how I feel. For some reason I seem kind of stuck between being a teenager and living in what is becoming straight- up adulthood. I mean, technically I'm an adult, and I will REALLY not be a teenager anymore this October, but something feels off.
I guess I've just always imagined 20 year-olds to have their own cars and posh apartments and long-term relationships and jobs and be totally on top of it, and the girls don't wear tennis shoes anymore - unless they're working out, which they do regularly because they're smart, responsible adults - no, they wear high heels and know how to walk in them. That sounds pretty silly, I guess. Especially now that I realize that no one is going to hand me those things or teach me how to achieve any of that.
I look around and the people I know that are older than me, even my brother, they're nothing like that. I guess I just believed what I saw on TV and in movies. I can't help but imagine that I'll be living like that in 3 years, anyway. Reality's gonna come a-crashing down one of these days.
All I really want anymore is something permanent. I'm tired of moving and changing. I look forward to the rest of my undergraduate time in college, but I also want it to be over. I'm hoping I can get out of here early. Morgantown is okay, but it's not somewhere I want to live any longer than I have to. (I hope I never somehow find this when I'm 40, listening to LCD Soundsystem's "Losing My Edge" on my antique iPod with a tear in my eye, because I'm sure I'll want to kick myself in the ass for saying "I want it to be over" in reference to college.)
For some reason, I just sort of envy my cousin who's 20-something and living in Pittsburgh with her husband. Maybe "envy" isn't the right word. It's more like admire. I don't even really know her that well, but I like to imagine what her life is like. Teaching at a university, having a husband that loves you, making gourmet food and writing a blog about it, seeing the city. I'm sure it's probably not as wonderful as I think it is, but it seems pretty awesome.
In the meantime, while I'm daydreaming about my future, here's a mix that I put together today. It's for the Last.fm group that I'm in, the Monthly Mixtape. The theme for July was "summertime"...so I took that pretty literally and threw something together.
For anyone who actually reads this... here you go: http://www.sendspace.com/file/x983gq

Record Review: Icky Thump

2007-06-21T16:24:00.000-04:00

With the announcement of the making of Icky Thump, my mind immediately went back to the release of Get Behind Me Satan - possibly my favorite White Stripes album. I was extremely excited to hear what Jack and Meg were going to do on their sixth record, yet I couldn't help but wonder: Could it get any better?
While still counting down the days until June 19th, Icky Thump leaked. Up until this album, I had always had to wait until the release date to hear new White Stripes material...so my anticipation got the best of me, and though I felt slightly guilty (especially after the radio-leak episode and Jack's ensuing rage), I listened to Icky Thump endlessly for about a week.
Wait - a week? Elephant didn't leave my CD player for months, and GBMS was more or less my soundtrack to 2005. So what happened to Icky Thump?
I love most of the songs on the record ("Conquest" gets stuck in my head almost daily and "Catch Hell Blues" makes me want to cause a drunken ruckus), but something was missing:
the relationship between feverish fans and the anxious artist; hearing the beginning of the first track as you flip through the album's booklet; even the experience of ripping off the cellophane as soon as you get out of the store and into your car.
I still happily bought the CD as soon as I could on Tuesday - I'll always buy the album when it comes to The White Stripes - but now I better understand why devoted Arcade Fire fans refused to listen to Neon Bible when it leaked. To quote a different band featuring Jack White: "I'm through rippin' myself off".
So, back to my original thought: Could it get any better?
It's hard to say - I feel kind of cheated of being able to fully enjoy this album, and that's completely my own fault. However, my first impression still stands: delight mixed with a little disappointment, most likely because GBMS was such a punch in the gut for me - so surprising and jaw-dropping yet still incredibly & uniquely White Stripes. Icky Thump had some big, rockin', peppermint-colored shoes to fill, and while it follows in the same formidable vein as GBMS, that's just it: it follows, and that makes it slightly less impressive.
There are still some experiences to be relished now that Icky Thump is officially in stores: listening to it with good quality at loud volumes, playing tracks from it on the radio, and getting to see Jack and Meg rock the album live this July.

Quick Review of Tracks:
1. Icky Thump: Sounds the way black licorice tastes. Still one of my favorites, even after hearing the rest of the album. Surprisingly political lyrics. I wish there were more songs like this one throughout this record.
2. You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You're Told): Feels like it should come at a later point in the album. Brutally honest lyrics over what feels like less-than-sincere music.
3. 300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues: An excellent, somewhat slower, searing blues number.
4. Conquest (Patti Page cover): Made me smile immediately upon hearing it. Best played at extreme volumes and sung at the top of your lungs.
5. Bone Broke: Classic White Stripes sound. This track seems somewhat unremarkable, but it's good & reliable rock that balances out the other, more experimental tracks.
6. Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn: Another strongly unique song featuring unexpected cultural influences (fans can now add Irish-folk to the list of explored genres by the White Stripes). Way less annoying than Flogging Molly.
7. St. Andrew (This Battle Is In The Air): Weirdly beautiful and interesting, this transitional track is like some sort of prayer, orated perfectly by Meg.
8. Little Cream Soda: Squealing/crunchy guitar and anticipation-building drums make this track one of the highlights of Icky Thump.
9. Rag and Bone: Endearing and mischievous dialogue mixed with the playful execution of this track make it something fans will love.
10. I'm Slowly Turning Into You: Makes you want to wail along with Jack as he notices that: "...I'm doing all the little things that you do, except the same little things that you do are annoying - they're annoying as hell, in fact", followed by the admission that idiosyncrasies are what makes someone appealing in the first place.
11. A Martyr For My Love For You: Heart-wrenching track about self-ruination. This one went unnoticed the first couple of times I listened to the record, but it's definitely worthy of some attention.
12. Catch Hell Blues: My personal favorite from Icky Thump (for now, at least). It hits you dead-on with Meg's trademark thumping & crashing, and Jack's yowling & screaming (from both his guitar and his vocal chords).
13. Effect & Cause: Clever lyrics typical of Jack's "tell-off", or advisory, songwriting style. Consistently leaves me wishing there were more tracks to follow.

For those interested:
I will be playing a solid hour of The White Stripes' music on July 5th, from 10pm-11pm (EST). It will be part of an All-American Music Marathon on U92 FM. You can listen online here.

Also, if there's anyone left out there who doesn't have it yet, here's my current favorite track from Icky Thump:
Download - Catch Hell Blues

Journal I

2007-06-02T19:35:00.000-04:00

The days are so hot. The weather report calls for thunderstorms almost everyday but it hardly rains. Sometimes I hope that the clouds will break open and let out a torrential downpour while I'm walking home from class. Umbrellas don't even need to be considered when it comes to summer rain. Why is it that "torrential" is only ever heard in reference to a "downpour"? I don't think I've ever heard it placed in front of another noun.
I hope I can get a new record player soon...although I should really just save my money since I have events coming up that I'll need it for. What kind of gift should you get your mother & her new husband? The last and only wedding I've ever attended was my uncle's, and all I remember about that was how the cake was decorated with fake butterflies crafted from differently-colored feathers, and that instead of throwing rice, we were supplied with some kind of tiny, hard, heart-shaped, sprinkle things. I think my mom's using birdseed, which is nice. I hope lots of birds fly down to nibble at it while we're around.
During one of my regular imaginings of my mom's wedding, I wondered: will she throw her bouquet? It's tradition, but there are only two single women in her family now, excluding my widowed grandmother, and those two are her divorced sister and myself. I suppose that her fiancé will have daughters there who aren't married, though. Let's just hope that she decides to skip the garter-belt gig...

Indulge me. (Or not)

2007-05-30T14:35:00.000-04:00

This link will take you to a site where you can choose 5-6 adjectives that you think describe me. Then I can see what qualities I need to improve upon to make you like me.
http://kevan.org/johari?name=Lizzybeth+T

Facial Hair Frosting

2007-05-29T21:12:00.000-04:00

Ice Cream Cone Cupcakes:

Prepare cake batter.
Pour into ice cream cones (with flat bottoms) until 2/3 full.
Set in cake pan or on cookie sheet.
Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees (unless cake mix directs otherwise).
Let cool; decorate.
Devour and wear frosting as a soul patch.

Little thing.

2007-05-28T22:50:00.000-04:00

We were born in sunshine
in a cereal bowl of warm gold
Teaspoons of your skin
Fingers bloom and unfold

We were born in sunshine
We'll probably die in rain
I grabbed forkfuls of your hair,
thinking
whether we drown or burn alive-
it's all the same.