Did it give you vaccination?

Ew. Do you know how gross it is for me to hear Brandi Carlile sing a love song with a guy? Especially the guy from Train? But for some reason, I can't stop listening to this "Pirate on the Run" song. At least half of the reason is the title. I...love pirates (even if this guy is only a metaphorical pirate and not the eye-patch, peg-leg kind. It is kind of fun to pretend he is. And then Brandi's the fortune-telling gypsy with the bandanna around her head and the spangly jewelry--okay, that's weird, and I need to stop). Of course the other half of the reason is that no matter what words are coming out of her mouth, I...can't not listen to Brandi Carlile sing.

And I even actually tried this week. I tried to go back to putting my whole iTunes collection (5551 songs!) on shuffle, but iTunes kept playing Brandi Carlile (perhaps because I have 188 Brandi Carlile songs--more than any other iTunes artist, even The Beatles), and I was like, well, why resist. Right? So here we are, Friday morning, I'm listening to Brandi sing about pirates and make fun of Phil. Also! I love when she talks about the Indigo Girls, because, sometimes, she ends up saying my naaaaaame. (I am a dooorrrk.)

I also tried this week to write blog posts that had nothing to do with this girl, but I think I only wrote...four. And one of them was three sentences about the Red Sox (about whom she only ever pretended to care, and no I'm not still upset about that or anything). Oh, by the way! What did I tell you? My imaginary straight boyfriend Josh Beckett kept us in it! I kind of want to imaginarily hetero-marry him now. And I don't care, y'all, I still love Dustin Pedroia, and I'm sad that Coco hasn't gotten a hit, but I do kind of love Jacoby these days. But it makes me sad that Trot Nixon is on the Indians. I miss you, Trot.

Here's a thing that has nothing to do with Brandi Carlile or the Red Sox: I hate Pink, but I love that song "U + UR Hand" just for the line "It's just you and your hand tonight." (I refuse to repeat the title the way Pink spells it, because augh! Doing it once gave me a rash!) I guess I just love pop culture references to masturbation. Also, that's such a slam to a guy, I feel--no one's goin' home with you but your hand, because you suck! Mwahahaha. Ahem. Also, I hate Pink, like I said, but I love that Indigo Girls' song "Rock 'n Roll Heaven's Gate," on which she sings, like, the background responses to Amy Ray's lines. Like, what's up, Emily? Why couldn't you have just sung that stuff? Or anyone but Pink! That other girl you had on your album, for example. What was her name? Okay, so she did do it live with them, and it was much improved by the subtraction of Pink and the addition of Brandi (and the boys!), and I should really try to find the live version. I'll have to youtube somethin' fierce when I get out from under the office firewall.

Look at that. I guess that did, in fact, end up having something to with Brandi Carlile.

Do you know what I hate about my sneakers? I have to untie them to put them back on. Not to take them off. Just to put them back on, because I can never manage to wriggle into them if they're tied. And if I tie them loosely, they fall off my feet. Possibly because they are too big. Curse you, Chuck Taylor, and your bizarro sizing. And curse me and my laziness for not trying them on in the store and then also not returning them because that's a pain in the ass. (I don't think I've ever returned anything in my life, and now that I have to do it at work for bitchy people who bought the wrong soap scent, I don't think I ever will.) That's my favorite thing about sandals, no tying necessary. They come on and off with ease. Also, no socks required. I hate socks. But I hate wearing sneakers without socks more than that. But these sneakers are bright red, and I love bright red things. I built my own pair of Chuck Taylors on the Converse website, blue with red stitching, but they cost $60 or some shit. Maybe when these red ones fall apart, I'll spring for the custom built pair. Size eight. Not eight and a half. I learned my lesson there.