[Insert Pithy Title]

August 22, 2011

I realize that I have eleventy bajillion things that are great and awesome and fantastic in my life that I should be eternally thankful and grateful for–and I am–but holy shit, sometimes I wish that things just went EXACTLY as I wanted them to go sometimes. Like seriously? Would it really be THAT bad? If things went the way we imagined them to go? Or the way that we’d like them to go? I mean, not all the time, of course–where’s the fun/torture/angst in that? I just really think it’d be neat if like, say, you decide that you want to change your career and you start taking those steps because, really, what’s the sense in complaining if you aren’t doing something to try and like, change whatever you want to change? Anyhow, so you’re taking the steps to do what you think know will make things better and then you sort of get to where you want to be and it’s still just not.quite.there.

I’m a cynic I suppose, thinking that things won’t eventually turn out the way they want. I mean, that’s what we’re told: If you want something bad enough and work hard enough and do everything you can to get where you want to be, eventually, something will break and you will get to where you want to be. So maybe I just need to wait for a real long time? I don’t know; I’m rambling.

Bah.

in 1995 i was 13. i still had hopes of being a good soccer player, despite my lack of coordination, lack of speed, and tendency towards laziness. anyhow, i used to go to soccer camps every summer, and when i was 10, i started going to sleep-a-way camps. in 1995 i went to camp at gettysburg college and played soccer under the tutelage of several exceedingly handsome and charming british fellows. hearing that my passes were “brilliant” was just about that loveliest thing that an already boy-crazed, accent-smitten, wannabe footie player pre-teen could ever hear and that week proved to be one of the best of my pre-pubescent life.

i roomed with a girl named angela, who was from new jersey. she was blond and thin and aggressive and good at soccer. we got along quite well, though looking back, i think it may have more to do with my status as the un-threatening chubby friend. (real life is not unlike romantic comedies, you know) anyhow, angela and i played soccer all day and then roamed the campus of gettysburg college at night, hoping to catch the eye of the boys who were at the baseball camp in the dorms across the yard.

we (she) eventually did catch the eye of the baseball players, and by tuesday of that fateful week, i was head over heels for a 14 year old shortstop named dave. dave and angela and me and others, i’m sure (none so memorable as either dave or angela), and by week’s end we were all just the best of friends–sweating through the heat on our respective pitches and diamonds during the day and careening haphazardly through adolescent summer lust at night.

at the end of the week, i was in love with dave and thought angela was my best friend.

three days after we left camp, angela told me that she and dave had kissed on the last night of camp and that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. my heart broke.

i got really sick a few days later and, confined to bed during the last few days of the summer, i played this song on repeat, imagining myself as drew barrymore or claire danes, wearing plaid, being angsty and pensive, thinking about a breakup with the perfect teenage boyfriend.

i eventually got over it, but everytime i hear this song, i am taken back to summer camp and angst.

Rock and Fucking Roll

February 10, 2011

i’ve expressed my love for Alison Mosshart in this blog before. i love her. i love her voice, i love her style, i love her swagger, i love her bangs, i love the way she smokes cigarettes. she is my idol. i wish i was one one-hundredth as cool as she is.

ahhhhh.

her band The Kills is putting out a new album in april. i can’t wait. it’s basically what’s keeping me going through this dreary winter. (well that and the fact that i’m going to the Virgin Islands in 1.5 weeks, but that’s neither here nor there.)

here is the video of the first single from the new album, “Satellite.”

rock and fucking roll, man. rock.and.fucking.roll.

it’s valentine’s day next week. and even though i’m kind of whatever about it this year, i’m going to make a post about it. i was just looking at something–what exactly escapes me right now–and i remembered a series of street art murals done by Steve Powers in Philadelphia sometime last year (i think) that i really loved. it’s called ‘A Love Letter for You’ and they are the sweetest little blips themed around…love. so, in honor (for lack of a better phrase…) of the approaching consumerist holiday, here are some sweet signs of love, courtesy of Steve Powers.

This is Important.

January 30, 2011

Let the Right One In is probably the most lovely, sweet, gory, and perfect movie i’ve seen. i want to watch it over and over again, and i want to hug it and hold it and lie next to it and talk to it and tell it secrets and listen to it and just really be totally in love with it.

i also love Sigur Ros in a really deep and profound and lovely way.

this tribute video is important.

A Quick Note

January 28, 2011

Dear Victoria’s Secret,

While I truly do appreciate your efforts to make every single woman have tits up to their chins and cleavage that would leave any 16 year old boy running for the nearest bathroom, I really think that you are overdoing it with swimsuits. I’m a fucking 36D for God’s sake. Do I REALLY need foam cutlets inserted into my bathing suit tops? I want to get a fucking sun tan and maybe go for a swim, not audition for Busty Sluts 7.

Lovingly Yours,

Me.

 

I Hate…

January 28, 2011

i’m in a real peach of a mood today. it blew in from nowhere and i was all sorts of weird. irrational, chaotic, overly sensitive, agitated… just basically full of piss and vinegar. normally, i would try to swallow it, hide it away, suppress it. but not tonight. i’m going to indulge it. the same way i just indulged in cheese fries and a soda. (take THAT, low carb healthy diet!). so without further ado…

1. I hate when a woman refers to her husband as her “hubby.”

2. I hate the framed 3D sonogram my coworker has on her desk of her unborn child.

3. I hate children in the workplace.

4. I hate being pushed for answers.

5. I hate my neighbor for allowing his gigantic Rottweilers to sit in outside and bark from 6am to God knows when.

6. I hate being told I should drink tea. I hate tea. I’m not going to drink it. It’s pretty cut and dried.

7. I hate when someone says “for all intents and purposes.” It’s nails on a fucking chalkboard.

8. I hate when people think I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes to my job.

9. I hate females who perpetuate stereotypes of women being insecure about appearances.

10. I hate everything.

If Sex Was Music…

January 24, 2011

…i would want mine to sound like the Black Keys.

 

Me in a Nutshell

January 5, 2011

At any given moment, I am exactly aligned with this bad bitch.

sometimes i forget how much i like The Verve.

Well I never pray
But tonight I’m on my knees yeah
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now
But the airways are clean and there’s nobody singing to me now