overheard
raebean: Although I'd like to thank the French for all they've done for mankind's marching freedom on this Bastille Day, I'm gonna leave that stink for this evening's cheese....
» go read the bean queen
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
the daily distraction
Thanks to JDR in DC for sending in Rock, Paper, Saddam. Good for a little Wednesday at work chucklefest. Who knows, maybe you will learn something from Saddam, like new Ro-Sham-Bo strategies. I know I did.
» Rock Paper Saddam
Thanks to JDR in DC for sending in Rock, Paper, Saddam. Good for a little Wednesday at work chucklefest. Who knows, maybe you will learn something from Saddam, like new Ro-Sham-Bo strategies. I know I did.
» Rock Paper Saddam
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
What I am doing this summer
- I'm spending time with my brother who lives in Halifax but will be in California for six weeks
- I'm working out with my sister
- I'm building my business
- I'm designing three sites and redesigning two others
- I'm keeping a writing schedule
- I'm doing a weekly "artist's date"
- I'm heading to the beach
- I'm catching the sunset
- I'm camping in Big Sur
- I'm going to laze an afternoon away in the adirondack chairs in the Big Sur River at the Big Sur River Inn
- I'm perusing the Henry Miller Library
- I'm exploring bits of Yosemite
- I'm having a birthday
- I'm hanging cool chinese umbrellas over my deck
Acknowledging fear is not a cause for depression or discouragement. Because we possess such fear, we are also potentially entitled to experience fearlessness. True fearlessness is not the reduction of fear; but going beyond fear. -- Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche
as read in jp's blog while reading about the beautifully blossoming love.
as read in jp's blog while reading about the beautifully blossoming love.
the most romantic thing
what a great post from the guy who is crossing the united states by bicycle with his brother. you want romantic? he'll give you romantic. and if you want to believe in romance, read the rest of the story. sigh. god love life and love and people and risking and sharing and connecting. all of it.
what a great post from the guy who is crossing the united states by bicycle with his brother. you want romantic? he'll give you romantic. and if you want to believe in romance, read the rest of the story. sigh. god love life and love and people and risking and sharing and connecting. all of it.
Monday, July 12, 2004
warning: run-on sentences
originally written to my deafeningly quiet list-serv
Hi whispering nappers,
What are you whispering and napping about? Sh-sh dreams? Or do your fingers have a bad case of laryngitis? Why so shy, wall flowers? Come out come out and bring your chatterbox fingers with you.
Well, just because when I am faced with uncomfortable long, drawn-out silences I get a slow on-coming case of hives and begin a drumming circle all of my own by rapid shallow breathing*, I am choosing to blab in your eyes and tell you a whole lot of nothing.
(* Not really. I actually like those.)
Such as, I really want the latest Television Without Pity t-shirt called "God is in the Tub." You know how you shouldn't bug yer mom when she's had a long day and is soaking in the tub so even though your little brother just burped in your ear you best back away from that bathroom door and leave her alone? That's what this t-shirt is about. Stop bugging God with your mundane trivial boo hoos and let him/her relax in the tub. It's been a long day.
And also I'm soaking my ears in Led Zeppelin. Is there anything more delicious for the ears than Zep? I'm thinking no.
Today I spent hours — HOURS — looking at nipples. Inverted nipples. Long nipples. Wide nipples. Low nipples. Shy nipples. Nipples that have fed entire villages. Nipples that range from Crayola "Flesh" color to dark as a plum.
Okay. Maybe it wasn't hours. But it sure damn well felt like it. And all I have to say is ENOUGH WITH THE NIPPLES ALREADY.
That said, it is amazing the stories people tell you when they find out you are writing stuff about inverted nipples. Especially guys. Guys really want to talk to you about inverted nipples. Girls they used to know, playboys they've seen before (swear to god and hi to ST). The girls have been a little less forth coming, but not totally. I've heard from them, too.
ST told me that I had the dream job of certain fetishists. And I'm sure I do. Too bad I'm not one of them.
originally written to my deafeningly quiet list-serv
Hi whispering nappers,
What are you whispering and napping about? Sh-sh dreams? Or do your fingers have a bad case of laryngitis? Why so shy, wall flowers? Come out come out and bring your chatterbox fingers with you.
Well, just because when I am faced with uncomfortable long, drawn-out silences I get a slow on-coming case of hives and begin a drumming circle all of my own by rapid shallow breathing*, I am choosing to blab in your eyes and tell you a whole lot of nothing.
(* Not really. I actually like those.)
Such as, I really want the latest Television Without Pity t-shirt called "God is in the Tub." You know how you shouldn't bug yer mom when she's had a long day and is soaking in the tub so even though your little brother just burped in your ear you best back away from that bathroom door and leave her alone? That's what this t-shirt is about. Stop bugging God with your mundane trivial boo hoos and let him/her relax in the tub. It's been a long day.
And also I'm soaking my ears in Led Zeppelin. Is there anything more delicious for the ears than Zep? I'm thinking no.
Today I spent hours — HOURS — looking at nipples. Inverted nipples. Long nipples. Wide nipples. Low nipples. Shy nipples. Nipples that have fed entire villages. Nipples that range from Crayola "Flesh" color to dark as a plum.
Okay. Maybe it wasn't hours. But it sure damn well felt like it. And all I have to say is ENOUGH WITH THE NIPPLES ALREADY.
That said, it is amazing the stories people tell you when they find out you are writing stuff about inverted nipples. Especially guys. Guys really want to talk to you about inverted nipples. Girls they used to know, playboys they've seen before (swear to god and hi to ST). The girls have been a little less forth coming, but not totally. I've heard from them, too.
ST told me that I had the dream job of certain fetishists. And I'm sure I do. Too bad I'm not one of them.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
bron-yr-mar
Today I'm working. But in the background I've got Led Zeppelin (The Complete Studio Recordings) and, god — this might be perfection. Especially Physical Grafitti. While I like the rockers, it's Bron-Yr-Aur (not Stomp), Down By the Seaside, and Ten Years Gone that make my lips curl up. Did you know that Rolling Stone called Kashmir "tiresome" when PG first came out? Blasphemy. Stupid Rolling Stone.
Meanwhile, I wonder why no one's written an article or short story about High Schools and the long reign of Stairway to Heaven as The Last Dance. When did it start? Immediately when the album came out? A year later? When did it end? I graduated in 1984 (cough cough) and we were still squarely (meaning solidly) ending the dances with Stairway... weren't we? Or have those all blended into one long slow-dance memory? Those funny last slow dances. The swaying giving way to awkward speeding up for the rock finish. Heh.
So, my class is not having a 20-year reunion. How? How does that happen? Complete apathy? This is just strange because my class (in my memory, anyway) was really close. And our last reunion was surprisingly fun (as reunions go). It was so great to see everybody. And while I would have liked to have gone to 1983's reunion (high school bf was in that class), I just took it for granted that my class would be convening. So strange. My theory is that there are a handful of super successful people who can't be bothered to come. And there are a handful of unsuccessful people who can't bear to come. And the rest of us have a bad case of Apathetica. How strange. Will we be kicking ourselves?
I can't believe I just outed my own age on this blog. I'm such a blabbermouth.
Today I'm working. But in the background I've got Led Zeppelin (The Complete Studio Recordings) and, god — this might be perfection. Especially Physical Grafitti. While I like the rockers, it's Bron-Yr-Aur (not Stomp), Down By the Seaside, and Ten Years Gone that make my lips curl up. Did you know that Rolling Stone called Kashmir "tiresome" when PG first came out? Blasphemy. Stupid Rolling Stone.
Meanwhile, I wonder why no one's written an article or short story about High Schools and the long reign of Stairway to Heaven as The Last Dance. When did it start? Immediately when the album came out? A year later? When did it end? I graduated in 1984 (cough cough) and we were still squarely (meaning solidly) ending the dances with Stairway... weren't we? Or have those all blended into one long slow-dance memory? Those funny last slow dances. The swaying giving way to awkward speeding up for the rock finish. Heh.
So, my class is not having a 20-year reunion. How? How does that happen? Complete apathy? This is just strange because my class (in my memory, anyway) was really close. And our last reunion was surprisingly fun (as reunions go). It was so great to see everybody. And while I would have liked to have gone to 1983's reunion (high school bf was in that class), I just took it for granted that my class would be convening. So strange. My theory is that there are a handful of super successful people who can't be bothered to come. And there are a handful of unsuccessful people who can't bear to come. And the rest of us have a bad case of Apathetica. How strange. Will we be kicking ourselves?
I can't believe I just outed my own age on this blog. I'm such a blabbermouth.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
who's the cutest girl ever?
Sweetdogk, that's who. And you can see for yourself on her blog as she displays previous bridesmaid photos and discusses current bridesmaid anxiety. Lessee bridesmaid anxiety... isn't that redundant? Or is that me? I usually have flat out wedding anxiety and have flubbed many a wedding (and/or friendships that were intact before the wedding; and not "many" — just two. But considering I started out as maid-of-honor in both of them, lemme just give you a little hint: never ask me to be your maid of honor because I will ruin that friendship like a turkey sandwich left out in the hot sun for two days. And not even mean to. Except in my sister's case where I think we actually grew closer. But I was older and wiser by then). Which is why me taking to officiating was such an amazing turn of events.
SDK, on the other hand is your dream bridesmaid. She is prepared, she is concerned about your happiness and all that you want to do for pre-wedding extravaganzas, she is polite, and she is fun. This is probably why she's got two bridesmaid (one where she is the MoH) duties thissummer fall. (Well.... isn't the first part of Fall still really just summer? Here on the Central Coast anyway. C'mon: you know it'll be 80. And fires everywhere.). Those brides picked wisely.
» shweeetdogk
Sweetdogk, that's who. And you can see for yourself on her blog as she displays previous bridesmaid photos and discusses current bridesmaid anxiety. Lessee bridesmaid anxiety... isn't that redundant? Or is that me? I usually have flat out wedding anxiety and have flubbed many a wedding (and/or friendships that were intact before the wedding; and not "many" — just two. But considering I started out as maid-of-honor in both of them, lemme just give you a little hint: never ask me to be your maid of honor because I will ruin that friendship like a turkey sandwich left out in the hot sun for two days. And not even mean to. Except in my sister's case where I think we actually grew closer. But I was older and wiser by then). Which is why me taking to officiating was such an amazing turn of events.
SDK, on the other hand is your dream bridesmaid. She is prepared, she is concerned about your happiness and all that you want to do for pre-wedding extravaganzas, she is polite, and she is fun. This is probably why she's got two bridesmaid (one where she is the MoH) duties this
» shweeetdogk
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
nyet nyet soviet
Well, kids. I've got nothing. My brain seems to be only filled with the most trivial and/or the most embarassing drivel. I'll spare you the eye rolls and myself the shame and just not share.
Meanwhile, things are pretty good here on the home front. It was great to be out of town, but I'm glad to be back. I've lived in my home for 9 months and only just now put up pictures (okay — that said, I did put up my paintings right away, but the picture thing seemed to slip through the cracks.). Amazing what a coupla pictures can do for an abode. And/or commode.
So, my life is focused yet the only things I seem to have to share are the most trivial. Like songs that make me salivate (currently very hot for Lambchop and Harry Nilsson). (Regarding Lambchop, extra bonus points for naming those CDs "Aw C'mon" and "No You C'mon" as "c'mon" is I think my very favorite word ever.). I had a huge Retro-Flashback Weekend where I seemed to only play music circa 1988 - 1991. Which was fun and very sing-a-long-y. And totally transported me back to Nostalgia Wonderland. Sigh. Those were some good times.
And speekina the young and naive and hopeful and wonder-eyed (oh God, I said I wasn't going to embarass myself), I can't wait to see Before Sunset. See? Nostalgia Wonderland. I am such a sucker. If this blog was not so traceable to my real name and if the people I know and love didn't read my blog I would totally regale you with stories of ridiculous times steeped in the early 20s. But it is traceable and people I know do read, and I can't embarrass myself that much. I have some pride. While I don't mind getting older, I kind of wish I knew how special the magic that seemed to fill my life at that time was. I would have paid more attention. And maybe would have stood still a little longer.
Meanwhile. Lambchop. Gawd. Love them. What are they like? Kind of like Leonard Cohen and Vic Chestnut marinated in strings and dreamland. They do an awesome cover of "You're going to make it after all" (the theme from the Mary Tyler Moore show), which is good for something, I am sure. Meanwhile, when are The Graves coming out with a new CD? It's about time Greg Olin: get on it! Your fans are hungry. Meanwhile, Curb Your Enthusiasm is my favorite carcrash gawking zone. I hate Larry David as he plays Larry David. Really. I have to basically watch that show with the blanket over my head yelling "no! no! no!" at the TV or "Shut!Up!Larry!" all the while cringing and ohmygoding. I like to finish it up by saying, "Can we watch another?!"
Well, kids. I've got nothing. My brain seems to be only filled with the most trivial and/or the most embarassing drivel. I'll spare you the eye rolls and myself the shame and just not share.
Meanwhile, things are pretty good here on the home front. It was great to be out of town, but I'm glad to be back. I've lived in my home for 9 months and only just now put up pictures (okay — that said, I did put up my paintings right away, but the picture thing seemed to slip through the cracks.). Amazing what a coupla pictures can do for an abode. And/or commode.
So, my life is focused yet the only things I seem to have to share are the most trivial. Like songs that make me salivate (currently very hot for Lambchop and Harry Nilsson). (Regarding Lambchop, extra bonus points for naming those CDs "Aw C'mon" and "No You C'mon" as "c'mon" is I think my very favorite word ever.). I had a huge Retro-Flashback Weekend where I seemed to only play music circa 1988 - 1991. Which was fun and very sing-a-long-y. And totally transported me back to Nostalgia Wonderland. Sigh. Those were some good times.
And speekina the young and naive and hopeful and wonder-eyed (oh God, I said I wasn't going to embarass myself), I can't wait to see Before Sunset. See? Nostalgia Wonderland. I am such a sucker. If this blog was not so traceable to my real name and if the people I know and love didn't read my blog I would totally regale you with stories of ridiculous times steeped in the early 20s. But it is traceable and people I know do read, and I can't embarrass myself that much. I have some pride. While I don't mind getting older, I kind of wish I knew how special the magic that seemed to fill my life at that time was. I would have paid more attention. And maybe would have stood still a little longer.
Meanwhile. Lambchop. Gawd. Love them. What are they like? Kind of like Leonard Cohen and Vic Chestnut marinated in strings and dreamland. They do an awesome cover of "You're going to make it after all" (the theme from the Mary Tyler Moore show), which is good for something, I am sure. Meanwhile, when are The Graves coming out with a new CD? It's about time Greg Olin: get on it! Your fans are hungry. Meanwhile, Curb Your Enthusiasm is my favorite carcrash gawking zone. I hate Larry David as he plays Larry David. Really. I have to basically watch that show with the blanket over my head yelling "no! no! no!" at the TV or "Shut!Up!Larry!" all the while cringing and ohmygoding. I like to finish it up by saying, "Can we watch another?!"
Friday, July 02, 2004
delicious little sound bytes
i could soak myself in the song "desert sunrise" by brett dennen. it's slow, but it grows on me everytime i hear it so that i am only a hair's width away from pushing repeat-repeat-repeat. such sweetness. here's a link to that song and a few others i'm lurving. iTunes needed. c'mon people. you should install iTunes already.
current froths
» desert sunrise brett dennen
» glass, concrete and stone david byrne
recent froths
» i'm a cuckoo belle and sebastian
» naked as we came iron and wine
» maps yeah yeah yeahs
» portland, oregan loretta lynn
» black cab jens lekman
two that aren't on iTunes, but you should find them
» shang a dang dang lambchop
» the bush boys the mammals
i could soak myself in the song "desert sunrise" by brett dennen. it's slow, but it grows on me everytime i hear it so that i am only a hair's width away from pushing repeat-repeat-repeat. such sweetness. here's a link to that song and a few others i'm lurving. iTunes needed. c'mon people. you should install iTunes already.
current froths
» desert sunrise brett dennen
» glass, concrete and stone david byrne
recent froths
» i'm a cuckoo belle and sebastian
» naked as we came iron and wine
» maps yeah yeah yeahs
» portland, oregan loretta lynn
» black cab jens lekman
two that aren't on iTunes, but you should find them
» shang a dang dang lambchop
» the bush boys the mammals
get 'em while they're hot
Not sure if you guys heard about the t-shirt campaign called "Designs on the White House" where everybody was invited to send in a t-shirt design to promote the Kerry candidacy and/or promote getting rid of Bush. Winning designs would become t-shirts, all proceeds going to the JK campaign fund.
Hmmm... "J/K" campaign fund? If a right-winger doesn't use that for fodder, they are truly missing a snarkly rich opportunity.
» See all the winners
Not sure if you guys heard about the t-shirt campaign called "Designs on the White House" where everybody was invited to send in a t-shirt design to promote the Kerry candidacy and/or promote getting rid of Bush. Winning designs would become t-shirts, all proceeds going to the JK campaign fund.
Hmmm... "J/K" campaign fund? If a right-winger doesn't use that for fodder, they are truly missing a snarkly rich opportunity.
» See all the winners
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
overheard
emdot: oh — and he's having a baby. in september.
dad: well that's new medical science for sure.
dad: well that's new medical science for sure.
I don't know, something just shifted
So. I was only supposed to be here (Irvine) for three days. Drive down Monday and work. Tuesday, work. Wednesday, work and then drive home. But pretty much by the time I arrived on Monday I knew I should stay longer. I'm getting so much work done and then meetings begin to materialize and more stuff gets done. I'm so glad I've stayed.
Til Saturday. Saturday I go home. And I won't have really have "been home" for three weeks. By "home" meaning... in my home / in my groove. I've had wonderful guests and took the kills camping trip and then guests stayed a little longer and then BOOM!exhaustion and then driving up the Bay Area for the hitching fest and then stop home and feed the cat and then right back on the road for So Cal (aka, Lo Cal). It was a world wind. Whirled wind? World win? Whatevah.
I think most of you know that I've been rather down lately. Death. Damn. And it wasn't just death at all. It was everything. Death just kind of allowed the crack in the dam to expand. And somehow all this momentum just moved that slump away. (I hear the knocking of wood.) It's funny how life works.
And here is my theory. Life — this mysterious life — is like our mysterious hearts. We can create a time line. Hell, we can create time. But life moves at its own mysterious pace. Suns come up. Suns go down. Seasons breeze through and flowers bloom and then blossom. Predictable and lovely. And people, it is just too easy to the think that all of life moves at this same path.
My theory is that there are layers of time. Time for days. Time for eating. But healing the heart or opening up paths or god — opening up eyes — that is a timeline we have not discovered yet.
All I know is that I feel eternally grateful at this moment. Grateful and completely optimistically hopeful. And loving that this mystery is something we don't understand, can't see, but can bank on every damn time. Wherever and whatever that time may be.
Can I get an amen?
So. I was only supposed to be here (Irvine) for three days. Drive down Monday and work. Tuesday, work. Wednesday, work and then drive home. But pretty much by the time I arrived on Monday I knew I should stay longer. I'm getting so much work done and then meetings begin to materialize and more stuff gets done. I'm so glad I've stayed.
Til Saturday. Saturday I go home. And I won't have really have "been home" for three weeks. By "home" meaning... in my home / in my groove. I've had wonderful guests and took the kills camping trip and then guests stayed a little longer and then BOOM!exhaustion and then driving up the Bay Area for the hitching fest and then stop home and feed the cat and then right back on the road for So Cal (aka, Lo Cal). It was a world wind. Whirled wind? World win? Whatevah.
I think most of you know that I've been rather down lately. Death. Damn. And it wasn't just death at all. It was everything. Death just kind of allowed the crack in the dam to expand. And somehow all this momentum just moved that slump away. (I hear the knocking of wood.) It's funny how life works.
And here is my theory. Life — this mysterious life — is like our mysterious hearts. We can create a time line. Hell, we can create time. But life moves at its own mysterious pace. Suns come up. Suns go down. Seasons breeze through and flowers bloom and then blossom. Predictable and lovely. And people, it is just too easy to the think that all of life moves at this same path.
My theory is that there are layers of time. Time for days. Time for eating. But healing the heart or opening up paths or god — opening up eyes — that is a timeline we have not discovered yet.
All I know is that I feel eternally grateful at this moment. Grateful and completely optimistically hopeful. And loving that this mystery is something we don't understand, can't see, but can bank on every damn time. Wherever and whatever that time may be.
Can I get an amen?
well no wonder i was depressed...
I just took a stress test. It is a list of stressors where each stressor has a point score, depending on level of severity. It isn't all conclusive (doesn't have death of friend or death of multiple friends), but can still give you a good idea of where you are at. I scored almost 3.5 times higher than the "very high" score. Wow! What a year it was/is.
Mark the things you have experienced in the past 12 months:
Ready? Tally your score.
So, you mean drinking's not the answer? [blink blink]
Coincidentally, although I love a glass of wine or a beer or two as much as the next person, about two months ago I had to take it out of my life. Seriously. And I am so glad I did. I've made a couple exceptions (most notably the planned drinking event which is Live Oak), but for the most part I have been stoked with my decision. It's not that it was a problem, but it's not that it was a solution, either. And with so much going on in my life I've been looking at ways to simplify. Not drinking was about the simplest thing to do.
The thing is, I've been digging it so much, I'm thinking of extending my time period. Does this make me a [using fingers to drawn into the air] square? I don't care. It's been a tough year and I'll take any help I can get.
I just took a stress test. It is a list of stressors where each stressor has a point score, depending on level of severity. It isn't all conclusive (doesn't have death of friend or death of multiple friends), but can still give you a good idea of where you are at. I scored almost 3.5 times higher than the "very high" score. Wow! What a year it was/is.
Mark the things you have experienced in the past 12 months:
- (95) Death of a child
- (93) Divorce
- (90) Death of a spouse
- (80) Death of parent
- (80) Spouse's or partner's betrayal of trust
- (80) New marraige
- (75) Job change over the age of 45
- (70) Conflict between you and your spouse
- (70) Conflict with boss where your job is threatened
- (65) Significant negative medical diagnosis
- (55) Change of home location
- (50) Retirement
- (50) Conflict between you and your teenager
- (50) Conflict between you and your parent
- (40) 40th, 50th, 60th, 75th or 80th birthday
- (35) Significant traumatic injury (include heart attack if appropriate)
- (35) Having to commit parent to assisted-care home or facility
- (30) Job change
- (30) Marriage of daughter
- (25) Chronic pain condition
- (25) Best friend's betrayal of trust
- (25) Last child leaving home
- (20) Purchase of a new car or house
- (20) Big family celebration or get together
- (10) Overly-demanding job responsibilities
Ready? Tally your score.
From the book:
The number in the parentheses indicates the average intensity of stress on a scale from 10 (low stress) to 95 (paralyzing stress).If your score is between 0 and 30, you are under very little stress at present and very likely have good physical and mental health.
If your score ranges from 35 to 65, the stress in your life may begin to undermine your overall health.
A score above 65 [I scored 250 - emdot's note] indicates that you are undergoing significant stress and this may initiate disease-causing changes in your biochemistry. [!!! - emdot's note] You need support and must work toward acquiring some very specific tools of stress management.
So, you mean drinking's not the answer? [blink blink]
Coincidentally, although I love a glass of wine or a beer or two as much as the next person, about two months ago I had to take it out of my life. Seriously. And I am so glad I did. I've made a couple exceptions (most notably the planned drinking event which is Live Oak), but for the most part I have been stoked with my decision. It's not that it was a problem, but it's not that it was a solution, either. And with so much going on in my life I've been looking at ways to simplify. Not drinking was about the simplest thing to do.
The thing is, I've been digging it so much, I'm thinking of extending my time period. Does this make me a [using fingers to drawn into the air] square? I don't care. It's been a tough year and I'll take any help I can get.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
overheard
aka dan needs a new computer and a faster connection
emdot: are you going to get on your computer tonight?
dan: no i'm not turning my slow-ass sewing machine on tonight. i don't want to wake up the hamsters.
emdot: are you going to get on your computer tonight?
dan: no i'm not turning my slow-ass sewing machine on tonight. i don't want to wake up the hamsters.
M. Ward heard on NPR
I heard about this at the wedding, but didn't get a chance to listen until just now. M. Ward (often lauded here in this blog and to be a total name-dropping famewhore lemme also say he is my former housemate) was interviewed by Scott Simon Saturday morning. And what a nice little interview it is. So, if you are a fan you won't want to miss it. And if you aren't (and we all know that could only be because you haven't heard him yet and/or have completely different musical tastes from this web site which is not a problem and we promise not to look down our online noses but really you should think about expanding those horizons already), here is your chance to get a little taste.
» NPR : M. Ward's Simple Folk
I heard about this at the wedding, but didn't get a chance to listen until just now. M. Ward (often lauded here in this blog and to be a total name-dropping famewhore lemme also say he is my former housemate) was interviewed by Scott Simon Saturday morning. And what a nice little interview it is. So, if you are a fan you won't want to miss it. And if you aren't (and we all know that could only be because you haven't heard him yet and/or have completely different musical tastes from this web site which is not a problem and we promise not to look down our online noses but really you should think about expanding those horizons already), here is your chance to get a little taste.
» NPR : M. Ward's Simple Folk
things i've written elsewhere
where our hero shares the equivalent of notes passed in class or perhaps her wellwishes on other people's year books.
television without pity. God I love that site. Where else do you find that many snarky people with great punctuation who can make you fall off your aeron laughing? Nowhere, people. Nowhere else. I only pretend I'm in their league.
But meanwhile, TWoP forum people have taken Ugg wearing to task. Specifically Ugg wearing as observed in Six Feet Under, a show which takes place in unspecifically LA. People say number one, Uggs: no. And then, number two, Uggs: no, yet specically no in LA where they don't even require any implementations to keep warm as it is never cold. The exact quote was "Isn't it always hot in LA?" To which I replied....
where our hero shares the equivalent of notes passed in class or perhaps her wellwishes on other people's year books.
television without pity. God I love that site. Where else do you find that many snarky people with great punctuation who can make you fall off your aeron laughing? Nowhere, people. Nowhere else. I only pretend I'm in their league.
But meanwhile, TWoP forum people have taken Ugg wearing to task. Specifically Ugg wearing as observed in Six Feet Under, a show which takes place in unspecifically LA. People say number one, Uggs: no. And then, number two, Uggs: no, yet specically no in LA where they don't even require any implementations to keep warm as it is never cold. The exact quote was "Isn't it always hot in LA?" To which I replied....
Hot is a relative term. Isn't it usually about 72 in LA? 82-ish in the dog-day afternoons of August? 68 in the belly of winter?
But hello people -- sometimes it gets down to 67 and even Angelenos have to keep their tootsies warm. And let's not forget the current nippy mornings officially termed June Gloom. I definitely need a sweatshirt outside. A SWEATSHIRT!!! (brrr).
You people with your midwest and your appalachian mountains and your sleety boo-hoos all think you have the corner on the cold and shivery. Pshaw!
Long live the Ugg (heh) and I say why stop there? Bring back the muff! In fact, I will be manufacturing these myself and marketing them to chilly, 67-degree-plagued, June-Gloom surrounded Angelenos everywhere. Cha-ching!
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