high fructose corn syrup

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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.