Wouldn't be a blog post without Brandi Carlile or a Mean Girls reference

They seem to be building one of everything that we have in south Nashua up on Amherst Street (Target, Uno's, Staples (or is it OfficeMax?), Starbucks, Home Depot, Circuit City, Game Stop, etc.), so where is my Barnes and Noble? Or Borders. I would accept Borders.

So! I found this old version of "Downpour," my fave Brandi Carlile song, and she's playing it by herself, and I decided it needs Josh. I love it still, but it's so not as good without the cello. The way she introduced it to the audience, though, was so adorable it almost made up for the lack of cello. And it's true, what I said--I love Brandi by herself, but the twins and Josh are so necessary to complete the awesomeness. Also, even without the twins, "Throw It All Away" is so much better live.

I've been thinking for a while of making an Ultimate Brandi Carlile Band compilation CD to play for everyone at work, but there are so many songs (and so many versions of these songs) that I just can't even start anywhere. I overwhelm myself even thinking about it. Somehow, it was easier to pick one to throw onto a girls-only compilation disc. That makes no sense.

I watched the Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl while I was at home on my lunch break today, and it was sweet. Blake Lively and that girl who plays Blair are cute together. I don't exactly love the boy from John Tucker Must Die, though. However. I should have watched 30 Rock, but I forgot all about it. Idiot. So I read the recap on Television Without Pity, and now I really want to watch it. But I will resist the internet streaming. And if I start actually watching Gossip Girl, I'll have to read the books, but I have a feeling that's going to be a Devil Wears Prada situation, since I hate reading about rich people and all the ridiculous shit they do, but when you can see it, when it's real, and the actors are charming, then it's okay. Because you can see how they're people underneath all the shenanigans. For all I know, the novels could be just like that, but I feel like they're not. I just have this sense, you know, like ESPN or something.

Battle of the Bands IV

Special double edition today, because it's Friday, and there are only three E songs!

D
“Desire”: Ryan Adams vs. Zwan
The Decision: You know, I don’t really have anything to say other than this is not my fave Zwan song.
Winner: Ryan Adams

“Does He Love You?”: Kelly Clarkson & Reba McEntire vs. Rilo Kiley
The Decision: This was an awesome battle, because not only do the songs have the same title, but they’re also about the same thing. But, seriously, Reba’s song is one of the reasons I hate country music, but it’s Kelly Clarkson dueting with her, y’all, instead of Linda Davis, and I saw the music video recently, and it’s kind of awesome, because Reba blows up a yacht, containing her cheating husband and that skank Linda Davis, at the end. That’s a good way to get revenge on your cheatin’ man and his girlfriend if I ever heard one. However. We’re not comparing music videos here. And even Kelly Clarkson singing a terrible country song can’t save it. Plus, this Rilo Kiley song is good even without all my hateration of country music to buoy it up. (Did I just say “hateration”? Yes I did.) Yes, even though it has the exact same theme as Reba’s song. Whatever. Rilo Kiley did it better, making you sympathize with both the wife and the girlfriend. Plus, no country-ness!
Winner: Rilo Kiley

“Dog-Faced Boy”: Eels vs. Phish
The Decision: Well, this is one of the only Eels songs that survived my recent iTunes purge, but I’ve been partial to this Phish song since I was ten. Tough, tough, tough!
Winner: Phish

“Down”: Ben Kweller vs. Stroke 9
The Decision: You know, I’m not quite sure why I still have this Stroke 9 album (I bought it way back in…the last century possibly for that “Little Black Backpack” song, and none of the other ones were as good). And I’ve yet to hear a Ben Kweller song I didn’t like—and I even like this one a lot.
Winner: Ben Kweller

“Drive”: Dispatch vs. R.E.M.
The Decision: Oh, man, I forgot how much I liked this R.E.M. song in high school. Goodbye, Dispatch!
Winner: R.E.M.

“Dumb”: Garbage vs. Nirvana
The Decision: Feh, I think I’m over Garbage. Plus, this Nirvana song is up there for me. Dumb or happy? It’s a fine line.
Winner: Nirvana

E
“The End”: Ryan Adams & the Cardinals vs. The Beatles
The Decision: Here’s a reason I like country music—Ryan Adams and his band doing country-ish rock ‘n roll. I don’t think I’ve ever really listened to this song, but I totally dig it. I don’t know. It might be enough to beat the Beatles. (Hah—oh, that was terrible. I’m sorry.)
Winner: Ryan Adams & the Cardinals

“Everyday”: Lisa Loeb vs. Dave Matthews Band
The Decision: Bleh, I don’t like this Dave song. I might purge that whole album. I also don't like how both of them actually mean "every day" but have titled their songs "Everyday"--but I had to pick one.
Winner: Lisa Loeb

“Everything”: Lifehouse vs. Alanis Morisette
The Decision: I’m sorry, as much as I loved this Lifehouse song when I was seventeen (and I loved it), this Alanis Morisette song has lines that purposefully do not end in prepositions: “you dig everything of which I’m ashamed,” for example. No contest.
Winner: Alanis Morisette

No boys allowed

That was, incidentally, the title of my favorite Bernstain Bears book. No, wait, that was No Girls Allowed. Never mind. I only liked it because Brother had that sick fort--it was shitty that he wouldn't let the girls in. But of course he did eventually, and everyone learned a valuable lesson, and I still really want that fort.

Anyway. Way back in the college days, Taterface and I had a radio show called "Girly Sounds," during which we only played songs from lady artists. It was so much fun. And the other day, I was talkin' to Melissa, and she said she doesn't listen to lady artists, so I decided to take it upon myself to make my own girly sounds compilation and make her listen to it. Here's a working playlist for the judgment of the internet:
1. "Cinematic" - Erin McKeown
2. "Late Morning Lullaby" - Brandi Carlile (try to contain your shock)
3. "Paper Bag" - Fiona Apple
4. "Happy Phantom" - Tori Amos (this song always makes me think of Lizzy)
5. "Polyester Bride" - Liz Phair
6. "Can't Cry Anymore" - Sheryl Crow
7. "There's a Girl" - The Ditty Bops (I had to be a little overtly gay)
8. "Rangers" - A Fine Frenzy
9. "32 Flavors" - Ani DiFranco
10. "I Won't Walk Away" - Jewel (I think I might replace Jewel with someone else...)
11. "Run" - Indigo Girls
12. "Happy" - Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins (or should I use a Rilo Kiley song?)
13. "Not the Doctor" - Alanis Morissette
14. "A Case of You" - Joni Mitchell (might get switched out for "This Flight Tonight")
15. "Hotel Song" - Regina Spektor
16. "Feelin' the Same Way" - Norah Jones
17. "Good Enough" - Sarah McLachlan
18. "It's Too Late" - Carole King
19. "Garden of Delights" - Lisa Loeb

On an entirely unrelated note, I sent Jess the message "frickin' gagne" so much during the playoffs that it's in my T9. Love it.

Battle of the Bands III

I love this game, y'all. I can't believe it took me this long to do it. Today's episode brought to you by the letter C and the number 7.

C
“California”: Joni Mitchell vs. Josh Ritter vs. Semisonic vs. Rufus Wainwright
The Decision: This was actually close, except for Josh Ritter, because, meh, but I love all three of the other songs with a fierceness. Still, someone had to win.
Winner: Joni Mitchell

“Cannonball”: Brandi Carlile vs. Damien Rice
The Decision: Now, this should be a no-brainer, because Brandi Carlile has the help of the Indigo Girls to make her song awesome, but I was totally obsessed with Damien Rice’s song my junior (or sophomore?) year of college. However. His song has been quoted by too many earnest teenage girls in their livejournals or whatever—and it’s not as good as “Blower’s Daughter.” Plus, Brandi Carlile and the Indigo Girls. I guess it was really a no-brainer after all.
Winner: Brandi Carlile (and the Indigo Girls)

“Carbon Monoxide”: Cake vs. Regina Spektor
The Decision: This was tough, because I totally love both of these songs, but “Carbon Monoxide” was one of the first songs of Regina’s I heard, way back in 2004 in the WDOM studio, and so it will always have a special place in my heart. Aw.
Winner: Regina Spektor

“Catapult”: Counting Crows vs. Phish
The Decision: Okay, so this Phish song isn’t so much a song—it’s only 30 seconds long—and I love wailing this Counting Crows song in the car, but Phish almost stole it with the line: “there ain’t gonna be a wedding,” which just set me off for some reason.
Winner: Counting Crows

“Closer to You”: Brandi Carlile vs. Liz Phair
The Decision: I wish this one had been more of a battle, because I love both of these bitches, but this Liz Phair song is from her latest album and it kind of blows. And this Brandi Carlile song is one of my very favorites.
Winner: Brandi Carlile

“Come Together”: The Beatles vs. Blur
The Decision: Oh, please. Poor Blur doesn’t even stand a chance against this song.
Winner: The Beatles

“Crush”: Dave Matthews Band vs. Mandy Moore
The Decision: Don’t laugh at me, but I find this Mandy Moore song charming. And I love the extra verse in the Dave Matthews song that never makes it to the radio. Crap. I can’t pick one.
Winner: Tie! If you have an opinion, feel free to leave it, so I can break this tie.

He wore a torn and tattered cloth

I think I might have a crush on Kit Pistol. Or maybe I just like to say her alias. And maybe I love how the first alias she thought of to compare to hers was Mark Twain. A literary reference, hurrah! She is the cutest girl contestant, anyway. Ryan seemed to think I'd have a thing for Jillian, but she is way too straight-girl pretty for me. I can't even remember what she designed last night, but I think I liked it best, because I got all sad when she was dismissed from the runway. Out of the top three, I liked Kit Pistol's the best (you have to do the whole name or else it's not fun any longer--like Nina Garcia!), but I liked Jack's shirt and pants separately, not as an outfit. It was too much for me as an outfit. I'd wear the shirt, I think. I got much more interested in this, because I like boys' clothes way better than dresses, but I can still barely remember anything, because whenever I get to sit down on something comfortable, I start falling asleep.

Anyway, I'm glad Carmen's gone. She was irritating--and she reminded me of Xiomara from Top Model, cycle 2, and Zulema from Runway, season 2. More Xiomara for the face and Zulema for the somewhat abrasiveness. I also spent forever last night trying to remember Zulema's name, and all I could come up with was Shitangi (or whatever), her crazy alter-ego, who I think we only saw in the reunion special clips, not in the actual episodes, which was a shame, because that shit was funny. Season 2 was definitely the best season. And when Heidi said that thing about Ricky's outfit just being a boring old suit, even if he'd made it right, I thought he'd get the German kissoff, but in the end, Carmen's was ugly and poorly made, so I agree wholeheartedly with her dismissal.

I got scared for Sweet P for a minute there, and Elisa's outfit looked like ass, but they hadn't been focusing enough on her throughout the episode for me to get worried, so phew. My faves are still in it! They live to crazy another day--although Sweet P isn't quite living up to how crazy I thought she'd be initially, what with her split personalities and all. But there's plenty of time for that, right?

Look, look!
This is Jillian's. (I love the internet.) It has four pieces, yo. And I like the vest (!). Although the shirt collar is kind of wide for my tastes. But oh well. I never pick the winner. Ever. Sometimes I can call the loser, but only sometimes.

I feel like there was something else I needed to send out to the internet, but whatever. I forgot it.

Clean and bright

Every day on my way to work, I drive past this...place--I don't even know what it is--that has a sign outside that says "machinist wanted." I'd never even heard the word machinist until I got obsessed with Brandi Carlile and learned of Tim and Phil's former band. I guess that shows you how unfamiliar I am with manual labor of any kind. Other than putting away boxes of soap. Anyway, the "machinist wanted" sign always makes me think of the Hanseroth twins and smile. I know I've said this before, but I don't say it enough in comparison to how much I say it about the girl--I love the twins.

So, big, big ups to Janine, who read my plea for more books and actually responded. Seriously, I wasn't even expecting anyone to care. I'm still shocked to find evidence of people I don't know reading this thing. But I got all excited to read Sarah Waters's other novel and Fall on Your Knees--until I realized that the latter was an Oprah's Book Club book. Like, that's a red flag to me right there. However, upon further research, I discovered that Oprah had chosen One Hundred Years of Solitude for her book club, and even though that took me, like, a year to read, I totally loved it. So I suppose there's still hope for Fall on Your Knees. All right, the rest of the internet, don't be shy. Tell me about your favorite books--gay or otherwise. Are there any good books about dudes? I'd be open to a dude love story--I totally loved "Brokeback Mountain," but, you know, it wasn't a novel. And it's the only dude love story I've read.

Right now, I'm still plowing through Flannery O'Connor's short stories and trying (and mostly failing) to read the (abridged version!) of the Iliad I had to buy for Western Civ freshman year. I don't know if I'm ever gonna make it through these classics. Time for a novel.

Oh my god, it's Wednesday, and I don't have to work so that means I get to watch Project Runway! Hurray! At my old job, I would obsessively write about it every Thursday morning, because I had even more time on my hands over there. Although, there isn't anyone in this cast that I can love as crazily as I loved Uli, I don't think, but there's still Heidi, Tim, and Nina Garcia, after all.

I love the part of this line "Tears and fears and feeling proud to say I love you right out loud" when Joni sings "to say I love you right out loud." That was when I fell in love with Joni Mitchell, I think--when I heard that.

Not the only one

I think we can all agree that I need to own this shirt:


However, it's out of print: in all sizes! Does that mean it's out of print forever? Come on, threadless. Don't do this to me. This shirt is perfect.

Battle of the Bands II

Here are the Bs. Do with them what you will. I am having so much fun with this.

B
“Baby”: Dave Matthews vs. Rufus Wainwright
The Decision: I can’t remember really listening to Dave’s song before; it’s sweet. And Rufus’s is very Rufus. Hmm.
Winner: Dave Matthews

“Barcelona”: Jewel vs. Rufus Wainwright
The Decision: Can Rufus redeem himself against Jewel? I think he can. I’m not a big fan of this Jewel song, and even though Rufus’s song is long, I like it better. So, there.
Winner: Rufus Wainwright

“Better”: Regina Spektor vs. Toby Lightman
The Decision: Well, I only have this Toby Lightman song because it was on a compilation that also featured…some other girl…but it’s actually a pretty good song. Good enough to best Regina? Not even close.
Winner: Regina Spektor

“Black”: Trey Anastasio vs. Pete Yorn
The Decision: I had to listen to both of these songs twice, because neither one left that much of an impression on me, so… I’m not sure how meaningful this battle is.
Winner: Pete Yorn

“Boston”: Augustana vs. Piney Gir
The Decision: Lord knows I love songs about Boston, and I was crazy about this Augustana one, but it got totally over-exposed. And I love Piney, but her song isn’t actually about Boston, so… Still, over-exposure is almost always the death knell of a song I liked.
Winner: Piney Gir

“Boys”: Ryan Adams vs. The Beatles
The Decision: Well, I mean, you’d think The Beatles would win every time, wouldn’t you? But this is one of their earliest songs and not my fave, and I really dig this Ryan Adams song, so. There.
Winner: Ryan Adams

Maybe Christmas doesn't come from the store

O to the m to the g, y'all, I am so glad I finally saw the runway portion of the Sarah Jessica Parker episode, because it featured my fave thing! Elisa saying, "I'm coming to your planet, but with gifts." I love her. I don't know that I could, like, be friends with her or something, but watching her on tv is magical. I also like how she took Tim's and Sweet P's advice--she may be crazy, but she knows when she needs help, and all in all, she seems really sweet, just a little out there. Also, the other best part of the runway was Heidi's telling Marion and Steve that their outfit looked like it came out of the basement. Where does she get this stuff? I heart Heidi. And Sarah cringed when Heidi said that! She must be feeling some kind of empathy for these guys--she couldn't be mean to them or even watch Heidi be mean to them. (I can watch you be mean to them all day, Heidi--keep it up.)

Ryan pointed out another reason to hate Christian: he doesn't listen to Tim Gunn. Um, my friend, if you are on Project Runway, you are there to listen to Tim Gunn! Dammit. Seriously, that's the advice all the veterans give to the new designers: listen to Tim. And whenever you don't listen to Tim, it bites you in the ass. He told Christian his design was too retro, and that is exactly what Nina Garcia and Michael said on the runway. The only time this didn't happen was when Keith didn't add anything to his outfit and won the "make a dress out of your apartment" challenge in the third season. Whatever. The one time Tim Gunn was off. Plus, Robert and Uli's dresses were better. Anyway!

Motherfuckin' Brandi Carlile wrote a Christmas song, y'all, in the vein of "River," so you know I totally love it. She even plays it on the piano, just so I can associate it that much more closely with "River" in my head. I love to inject a little melancholy into Christmas. Especially these days, since I kind of hate Christmas. Believe me, if Christmas really were about peace on earth and good will toward men, if it could come "without packages, boxes, or bags" I would be all about it. But it's not, y'all. It's about buying things. And that makes me ill. The Grinch thought that's what Christmas was about, and he was right. I wish he weren't. Plus, I've become totally disenchanted with Christianity, so Christmas has lost even more meaning for me. And I've been hearing people talking about getting all their Christmas shopping done since October. Why do you have to buy all this shit to tell people they mean something to you? Working in retail is really ruining Christmas for me. Also the fact that I don't believe in Santa any longer. Christmas has totally lost its magic now.

I think I need a good dose of The Polar Express; that always breaks through my cynical little heart and maybe makes me cry at the end (the book, not the horrifying movie--but did I even have to tell you that?). However! It is still November. It is not Christmastime yet, dammit.

Hah, there are even official lyrics for Brandi's new song, and someone proofread them before sending them off to the internet. Apostrophes in the right place, no spelling mistakes, love it. Although, I did find further evidence that girl can't spell: before "Same Ol' You" in Bellingham, she was singing snatches of country songs I don't know, and one of them included spelling the word surprise, which she fucked up. But she knew she fucked it up. And it was funny.

I always forget this, but I have such a crush on Winona Ryder. Especially when she played my literary hero number one, Josephine March. Not so much in Edward Scissorhands, though. What is with the blonde hair? I don't know why I forget this, because when I first saw Keira Knightley, I thought she looked a lot like Winona Ryder. Which one is prettier? It's difficult to say.

Battle of the Bands I

So I have about a bazillion songs with the same exact title—by different artists, you know? As I was noticing this, I decided to make a list of all of them and have a little showdown to pick which artist has the better song with the same name. So it’s not like a battle of who does the best cover, but who has the best song, because the songs are completely different except for the title.

Um, I hope that entirely convoluted explanation made some sense. Anyway, here are the songs that begin with A.

A
“Act Naturally”: The Beatles vs. Semisonic
The Decision: I don’t think I’m really thrilled about either of these songs, so in that case, The Beatles win. Because they’re The Beatles. And, also, their song is better, because this Semisonic song kind of sucks.
Winner: The Beatles

“All at Once”: The Fray vs. Pete Yorn
The Decision: This is one of the only songs from The Fray that I still like, but I think I’ve gotta give this one to Pete. I really love the chorus to this one.
Winner: Pete Yorn

“Alright”: Brandi Carlile vs. Kinnie Starr vs. Supergrass
The Decision: This one is a no-brainer, because Brandi’s “Alright” is about getting drunk and taking some random girl home, which is really not something I’d expect from her, but it is awesome. “I think that I might stay for a while or just a drink or four and see where this might go.” I do love that Supergrass song, though, as it is featured in Clueless--the scene where Cher’s taking pictures of her rich friends by the fountain, trying to get Tai and Elton closer together.
Winner: Brandi Carlile

“Amen”: Jewel vs. Josh Kelley
The Decision: I know this Jewel song better than Josh Kelley’s, and I still find Jewel’s really raw and beautiful, so…sorry, Josh.
Winner: Jewel

“American Girls”: Counting Crows vs. Homie, with Rivers Cuomo
The Decision: This one is tough, because Dana introduced me to the Homie & Rivers song, and I loved it for pretty much my entire freshman year of college, but I may have overplayed it. And I do love this Counting Crows offering… Tough, tough call.
Winner: Homie with Rivers Cuomo

I'm sorry I called you a gap-toothed bitch

Okay, here's another girl crush that just came to me out of nowhere: Annabeth Gish, but really only specifically in Mystic Pizza. Now, Mystic Pizza came out when I was four, so Annabeth Gish is a little old for me, but she's so cute in that movie. I think that must have been the reason I bought it. I did, however, recently see a short film in which she played a lesssssbian, so that was fun, but she's not as cute now as she was in Mystic Pizza--she's still pretty, but I don't have a crush on present-day Annabeth Gish. And, as lovely as she is in that movie, her storyline gives me the hebes. It was like Grace and Mr. Dmitri on Once & Again, but even heebier, because Kat's man had a kid and a wife. Blarf.

Oh, man. If the IMDB can be believed, Annabeth Gish is actually younger than imaginary girlfriend number two, Tina Fey. Apparently, she was actually seventeen in Mystic Pizza. Now I kind of feel dirty for crushing on a seventeen-year-old.

So back when we started putting out all the holiday stuff, the store started smelling exactly as it had when I developed this ridiculous crush on this cute straight girl who worked, and the scent association painfully brought back those ridiculous feelings. I'm over that now, so of course some other stupid straight girl has to start stupid straight girl flirting with me. This never happens to me--and I can't handle it when it does--and she started it! Actually, I think maybe Abbie and Shannon started it, because they'd been fighting over who got to be my work girlfriend (Abbie is married, and Shannon is almost too straight to function, so I didn't get stupid about this), and then Sue, another new girl (who is also married), got in on the action, and so I figured I'd include this other new girl, just jokingly, and she totally played along, which I was not expecting. And then yesterday, she brought it up again, and we started playing the "I'll stealthily untie your apron while I walk behind your register" game, which is what Vanessa and I used to do, and I was, like, "Shit! This has got to stop." When she left for the day, I said to Liza, "She totally wants me," and Liza was, like, "Who doesn't?" Who doesn't indeed. I kind of feel like the store whore now. But this is the reason I haven't quit yet--everyone who works there is awesome. Except that one woman who may or may not have horns on the top of her head... Actually, speaking of the Devil, she has been a lot nicer lately--to everyone but Liz. Poor Liz. It's weird, though, because now that the Devil is being markedly less devilicious, Ally seems to be taking her side more, which is kind of distressing me. Oh well. Ally and I are still work BFFs--she let me be late to work yesterday morning so I could go get breakfast, and then she talked to me for an hour about something that was agitating me, and she's the greatest.

No, but seriously, I don't get it. Every time I've worked with the Devil--probably since a few weeks after Bruce left--she's had something nice to say about the work I've done. Usually, I would bust my ass setting a wall or moving tables or organizing the stock room, and she would say, "Wow, this looks great"--but she would never acknowledge me or the other girls who had done the work to make it look great. Now she actually says, "The back room looks great, you guys" while looking right at me and my partner in crime or "Good job on that table, Emily." It's kind of creeping me out. The store's still a lot more fun when she's not there, but she's getting tolerable, I guess.

All right, enough of this. How adorable was Sarah Jessica Parker on Project Runway? I am mad because I fell asleep right before the runway show, but man was that a good episode. She was so way cooler than that pageant queen they had last season, and she just seemed so nice, and all the designers were clearly thrilled to meet her. And my favorite part of the whole thing was her exit, when Tim prompted, "Why don't you say that line you've been waiting to say?" and she got all giggly and did the "see you on the runway!" So cute--she's clearly a fan of the show.

And oh, how I have missed Tim Gunn. But this Christian fellow, who is too gay to function, is no Daniel Vosovic. I hope he books it soon, because I just can't stand looking at him. He is what Mike and I refer to as a "fagtron"--so fucking gay, he's like an android merely programmed to be as stereotypically gay as possible. The girl version of this is "lesbot," which is what Mike calls me when I start watching sports over his head at the bar. But fagtrons are seriously more prevalent than lesbots. What is it about gay men that makes them think they have to be these stereotypes in order to actually be gay, to be accepted by other gays? I mean, I know there's truth to these stereotypes, but so many guys seem to have nothing but the stereotypes--and as many stereotypes as they can cram into themselves. Also, the thing that pisses me off the most about this fagtron problem, is that straight girls seem to expect all gay guys to be like that. Which is the problem with all stereotypes, I realize, but I think this one makes me angry because I take it personally. I mean, I get mad when people stereotype Jews or Chinese people, because that's gross, but I can't take it personally, because I'm not Jewish or Chinese. And I know I'm not a gay man, but I'm still gay, okay?

Well, Christ, I don't know how I got from Project Runway into a faux deep discussion of gay stereotypes, but I think that's enough of that for today. And, anyway, Mike and I made up the fagtron thing to be funny, not to worry about how people perceive gay people--or how gay people perceive themselves. That kind of crap is waaay to heavy for this stupid blog. Next bitch!

These days, I've been thinking if I were to actually meet Brandi Carlile, the number one thing I'd want to ask her is if she's read The Neverending Story, since she has the auryn tattooed on both of her arms and everything. I would really hope that a movie wouldn't inspire permanent body markings, but you know I'm behind book-inspired tattoos. My own (hypothetical) double-arm tattoos are book-inspired. I have a million other things I'd want to talk to her about, but novel vs. movie is at the top of the list. Of course. If you can count on one thing from me, people, it's that Brandi Carlile and books will always top my list. You can imagine how fucking thrilled I was to see that The Story looks like a book. This, kind of, gives me hope that she has read it. This shouldn't matter, because, like, I don't even know her, but I get so worked up by the fact that people don't read--it especially bugs me when people get all excited about a movie and have absolutely no interest in reading the book upon which it was based. I already whined about Mike's absolute disinterest in reading The Golden Compass, but really. It makes me sad. This is why, despite the fact that what I've read so far has given me hives, I will probably eventually read Legally Blonde.

Now. Mean Girls was based upon a book, but it was based upon a non-fiction study of teenage girls, and Tina Fey created the plot and characters her own self. So does that count? I hate non-fiction, too. I also hate true stories of how girls are horrible to each other. However, I think, just because I'm me, I will end up reading Queen Bees and Wannabes at some point in my life. I mean, I read Emma, for crying out loud. This can't be any worse than that. (Legally Blonde, on the other hand, can.)

Okay, let's go back to Project Runway, so I can talk about the people I love: Elisa, for being just absolutely fucking crazy; Sweet P, for her "Sweet P," "Mean P" double-arm tattoos--hilarious--and the fact that Sweet P was her moniker in her all girls' motorcycle gang; and Victorya, for generally kicking fashion ass. Mostly, I don't have anything to say about the clothes beyond, "God, that's horrible" or "Oh, that's kind of cool." I watch for the crazy sewing fools. And Tim and Heidi. And Nina Garcia, who I totally haven't had the time to appreciate this season, because I keep falling asleep right before the runway. I miss you, Nina Garcia. Also, I haven't noticed any awesome models yet, and I hope that's because of my runway narcolepsy, but really, who's gonna top Nazri? Or even Amanda and Marilinda? And, as far as I can tell, there's no Vincent this season. Thank god.

I'll go as slow as I can

I had a dream last night that Charles grew to be as big as a panther, but he was very gentle with me. It was just rather unsettling to have an animal that large wandering around the basement. Speaking of Charles, if I'm home, he follows me wherever I go. That's not normal for a cat, is it? Usually, they wander around and do their own thing and only bug you when they want food. But if I'm upstairs, Charles is upstairs. If I'm downstairs, he's downstairs--usually trying to bite my feet. His favorite place seems to be the ottoman next to the fireplace, but he only hangs out up there if I'm not home or if I'm in the living room. This morning, he followed me all the way up to the bathroom, and he was sitting in the hallway waiting for me when I got out of the shower. And I had just fed him before I even went to take a shower. What a weirdo.

Did you know that slow is considered an adverb sometimes? It has something to do with the way Old English was originally structured and how it developed into modern English, so we can say things like "drive slow" or "breathe deep" and only give hives to crazy grammarians. I learned this senior year with Dr. Chaika, but I forget exactly why this isn't technically incorrect. Still, "drive slow" gives me hives.

You know what I love, though? When people form comparative adverbs the way you would form most comparative adjectives. Like wet becomes wetter, so quickly becomes quicklier. No one ever does that seriously, so that's why I like it. It's funny. Quicklier doesn't even sound that wrong, because it sounds like the comparative form of the adjectives that end in -ly, like lovely to lovelier. I think I actually heard this quicklier on a television show, and I wish I could remember where, because I adore it.

I still can't find out if the Shakespeare reference is in the original version of The Neverending Story. This is making me upset. Even with my German illiteracy, I think I'd be able to figure it out if I could get my hands on a German copy of the book. Or I could just ask my good friend Heidi Klum to translate for me, which I am only saying because Runway is tonight, and I have to remember to set up the DVR, because once again, I am working. Effin' retail. I thought I'd even taken tonight off, but...apparently I did not. It would be cool to be friends with Heidi Klum, though, don't you think? God, that woman is gorgeous (and I don't even go for blondes--I feel like I've said this before, about somebody else: Katherine Heigl, the girl who made me gay. Okay, um, maybe I do go for blondes...), and she's hilarious. Seriously, I don't care if the contestants are allegedly boring this year or whatever: Heidi and Tim are still awesome.

Speaking of Katherine Heigl, the girl who made me gay (I think that'll be her subtitle from now on, like Diana, Princess of Wales or whatever), I finally watched Knocked Up the other night, and it was really good. It sucks that Izzie is so goddamned stupid now that I can barely even like her anymore. Oh well. Sara Ramirez is hotter than Katherine Heigl, the girl who made me gay, anyway. And I've slacked on the Grey's watching again. It may take another montage set to Brandi Carlile to get me excited to watch the show again--and I even wrote that post about how I kind of liked it this season. Oh well.

Aw, crap, I totally missed the latest lesbian antics on Shot at Love last night. I'm, like, totally over tv apparently. Or doing anything that isn't sleeping when I'm not at work. Seriously, I'm so excited for tomorrow, because it's the one day this month that I don't have to work at all. Also, mashed potatoes. That's my favorite thing about Thanksgiving. Eff turkey and stuffing; all I need are smashed up taters. I still kind of want to know what went down with trashy-ass Brandi, though. And if I can tell cutie-pie Dani to call me yet.

So last fall, when I was unemployed, I went a rampant search for books about girls falling in love, and I found a big pile, but there were really only two exceptional ones: Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden, which I think every teenager should read, and Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg. I would like more. A lot of them were, you know, good; a few of them were dismal. Rubyfruit Jungle was especially grating--I think because I just wasn't stomaching Rita Mae Brown's rather brash writing voice. Or something. But the main character, Molly Bolt, was heralded by somebody as the gay Huckleberry Finn, and she's not. Huck is a much more sympathetic and interesting character. Wait. Is it weird that I sympathize with a ten-year-old boy more than with, you know, a college-aged lesbian trying to make her way in the world? Whatever, I wanted to be Huck and Tom when I was a kid--they always got to run around barefoot and get into mischief, and Huck got to go on that awesome raft ride. Whatever. I'm secretly a hick. Don't tell anyone. That does explain the mysterious country music affinity, though, I guess. And I was totally with Tom in his little-boy courtship of Becky Thatcher--you know, I was picturing myself as him, not as her, especially when they were lost in the caves together. When I was twelve years old. God, I am so gay.

So! Gay books. Find me some. I'm tired of looking. Peace out, internet!

If you've ever been out walking in the snow

It's snowing. It's not even Thanksgiving yet. I think this winter is going to be heinous, to make up for the second spring we had in November and December last year.

I'm listening to Brandi's concert at the Higher Ground again, because I had this urge to listen to the intro they did for "My Song," but then the newer version of "My Song" doesn't have that extra verse that I love, and so I was sad. I need a version with the intro and the extra verse. Perhaps I should put in a personal request to Brandi. She'd totally listen. I wish I had a video of her collapsing with laughter in the middle of "Wasted," because it was one of my favorite things about the night. The great thing about her, though, is at the end of the song, she is trying to sing through this laughter she can't control, but you can barely tell on the recording that she's having any issues. But then when she doesn't sing when she's supposed to, you kind of know something's up. God, I love her. (I know, what a newsflash, huh.)

"Shadow on the Wall"--that's the song I don't like. I may be listening to the soundtrack to Legally Blonde: The Musical right now. Does that make me straight? Okay, but the best thing about the musical is that Elle proposes to Emmett--and puts a ring on his finger and everything. Does that happen in the movie? I don't even remember.

They were showing a Queen concert DVD in the cafeteria this morning, so I stayed and watched "Bohemian Rhapsody." Good times. It really is shitty that Freddie's dead.

Still snowing. I just spent the morning organizing my soundtracks on iTunes, so that they appear together alphabetically, then by year, so that all the Harry Potter and Pirates soundtracks are grouped together and in chronological order. How productive (and insane). Now I'm hungry. Also, my two front tires are pretty much bald, so I don't even want to try to go out and get lunch, even though I really want Chinese food.

Got to talk to Milo yesterday, for the first time in ages. It's time to go to Texas, I'm thinking. Or maybe we could go visit Jane in St. Louis at the same time.

I know I've said before that my favorite Brandi Carlile song is "Downpour," and that's still true, but I have four other favorites: "Closer to You," "The Clock," "How These Days Grow Long," "Hiding My Heart," and "A Promise to Keep." Oh, I guess that was five. So I have six favorite songs. I can't rank them past "Downpour," though; that's at the top, and the other five are clustered just beneath it. Why do I feel the need to explain this? I don't know. I just felt like writing about it, because it's been more than a month since the show in Vermont, and I'm still going through serious withdrawal.

This is the most disjointed entry I've written in a while, but it's just one of those days, I guess. It's cold in here; I'm bored; I can't watch any more youtube videos of Brandi in concert, because they only make the withdrawal pains worse; I really have nothing to say, but I want to write anyway.

I keep getting these fucking spam text messages--like, how did that happen? I don't just give away my cell phone number for free. They're driving me crazy, and of course you can't just block text messages from people not in your contacts on a cell phone. That would be too helpful.

Also, did Sporty Spice come out of the closet yet? Because that girl is so gay. Watch--she's, like, married now or something, just so I can be extra wrong. Whatever. I still say she's gay. Gaaaaay.

Hiding in my own confusion

You know what I find odd? A lot of people don't like milk. Like, they'll put it on their cereal or in their coffee or whatever, but apparently, I am in a minority of people who like to just drink it straight. And, like, I love milk--especially with peanut butter. Peanut butter is so sticky that I can't eat it without milk--milk is the only thing that will satisfactorily wash down peanut butter. But I also just drink milk with dinner sometimes. My mother used to make us, and Jeff haaated it, but I usually drained two glasses at dinnertime, because I can't get enough. I even drank milk with dinner at college sometimes, if the mood struck me, because there was something weird about Providence water, and fountain soda never tasted right--although, I think I just ended up getting used to it after four years. And then when we had the apartment with a kitchen, so I could cook for everyone, I usually ended up drinking juice. But there was always milk in the house--and not just for cereal. Or for drinking with chocolate chip cookies. Oh! One time, I made chocolate chip cookies from scratch with my bare hands, because my roommates and I really wanted chocolate chip cookies from scratch, but we didn't have a mixer (what college senior would even need an electric mixer?) So I used a wooden spoon and the awesome power of my right wrist instead. It took forever, but it was worth it in the end. And, I mean, the pre-made cookie dough is fine for baking cookies, but the fun part of making chocolate chip cookies is eating the raw dough, and homemade raw dough is so much better. It's worth the risk of getting salmonella.

So anyway, I love milk, and I'm weird. Apparently. I really was not even aware that anyone other than my brother was not a fan of milk until I went to college. What a weird thing to be naive about.

I have a confession to make: there is one Brandi Carlile song I have decided I just don't like. But one out of, like, sixty? That's not bad odds, right? I was also never a big fan of "Sixty Years On," but that's not her song, so I won't lose any sleep over that one.

But speaking of Elton John, I watched his episode of The Muppet Show a few weeks ago, and oh my, at one point he was wearing this sparkly pink jumpsuit that was just far too tight. I think I actually said, "This man is almost too gay to function." Sorry, Elton, but Freddie Mercury was far better at being weird and gay. I wish I'd been hip to Queen before Freddie Mercury died, but I was just a tiny child when he did--at the age of seven, I was not hip to anything. So what would be better is if Freddie Mercury were still alive. That would be great. So...are we going to cure AIDS or what?

In other news, I have a demon cat:
Last winter, I bought the best pair of fingerless gloves at Target for, like, eight bucks, and of course I lost one of them, like, in January. I love fingerless gloves, y'all, because I usually hate wearing something that covers my hands, because then I feel all clumsy and stuff, but if the tops of my fingers are free, I am suddenly magically not as clumsy. And they keep your fingers mostly warm, even with the holes. But I loved these gloves, and I will never be able to find that pair again, because clothes are different every year, and I think that is retarded. I want those gloves back, dammit. I also lost the other glove, too--or maybe I just threw it away. Because what good, exactly, is one fingerless glove?

I was going to take this opportunity to bitch about the heinous day I had at Bath & Body Works yesterday, but I think that would be a waste of energy. It was horrible, but I did get the back room miraculously cleaned up and somewhat organized, to the delight of all the important people who work there. Now I just need to sleep for a week, and everything will be fine.

Hurrah!

Oh, y'all, I totally didn't think it would happen, but Mike Lowell is staying in Boston. That's my man. If only I could somehow get Trot Nixon back, I would be the happiest Red Sox fan ever.

That's the problem with the days

Here is a thing: Brandi and the boys debuted "Pride and Joy" in Portsmouth. And I was not there. Why? I don't know, because I had tickets to Boston and no one to drag to Portsmouth? No. Because I am an idiot. Why do I always miss her when she's so effing close? Although, despite the fact that Portsmouth is in the same state I am, I think Boston's closer. Whatever, it's never happening again. Though now that I have the determination and the means to follow this girl wherever she might lead, she and the boys will take a touring sabbatical in 2008. Because that is how my life works.

I hate Pink. I know I've said this before, but oh my god, I hate her. Why do the Indigo Girls like her? I would expect them to have better taste.

Okay, seriously, I just read an email in which someone asked if sowing is a word. Are you kidding me? Is everyone fucking illiterate now? Doesn't anyone know about planting things? Has no one ever heard the expression "sow his/her/your wild oats"? (I know it's old-timey, but it's still an expression. Christ.) Didn't everyone read the Little House books when they were eight? (Just me?)

Thank god I don't have to worry about A-Rod joining the Sox anymore. He's back in the Bronx where he belongs. Unfortunately, I do still have to worry about losing Mike Lowell to the Yankees, because I heard a vicious rumor that they would move him to first base if they kept A-Rod. And every day that goes by without the Red Sox signing my man Lowell makes me more and more nervous. I think I heard that the Braves made him an offer, and I would be okay if he ended up in the National League again--but mostly I don't want him to end up back with the Yankees (apparently, he was brought up through their farm system). Of course what I really want is for him to stay in Boston, but that's seeming less and less likely. Eff you, Epstein. Clearly, this is all your fault. Also, apparently, Mike Lowell was born in Puerto Rico and is fluent in Spanish! Like I need reasons to love him even more right before he leaves Boston forever. Wah.

Sorry, that was whiny. Let's move on. Okay, I have to link to this, because the description of this picture is pretty much the best sentence I've read all day (if you ignore the obvious, unfortunate typo).

Ugh, this whole post was whiny. It's been a long week, and I have to work for a million years this weekend. Retail blows, yo.

Whenever I can't think of a post title, I always just want to write "your mother"

It is time for me to move the eff out. But I'm twenty-three years old and poor, even though I work two jobs, because I do not pay attention to the way I spend my money, because I hate trying to figure out money. I always have enough for bills and crap--even extra--but I don't have enough to move out. And then if I had to pay rent every month! I wouldn't be able to go out drinking every weekend! Um, maybe I don't need to do that? Whatever. I should really save this Bath & Body Works Christmas money, and then maybe I can start looking at apartments. And if Mike would just manage to get his car back, we could start saving and looking at apartments together! I don't think I would want to live by myself, even with Charles Wallace to keep me company on the cold, lonely nights. But it would be fun to live with Mike. He cleans! I hate cleaning. Although, if we're gonna live together, we might as well just get married. We already unfortunately act like a straight couple (just, you know, without the sex).

Ew, gross. Now that I can actually marry a girl in this state, I'm not wasting marriage on a guy. Even though he did propose yesterday, via text message, and I did accept. But I say text message proposals don't count. What do you say?

Oh my god, I forgot to DVR Project Runway last night, because of course I was at work at ten o'clock. But I am trying to boycott TV until the TV writers' strike is settled. It's just hard, because Runway is finally back! Sigh. Maybe I'll just boycott network television. Maybe those greedy producer assholes should just give the writers deserved compensation for the use of their creative output. What a fuckin' radical idea. Can you even believe that writers want to be paid when their work is used in formats other than television broadcasts? How dare they ask for such an outrageous thing. I can't believe they don't get paid for things like iTunes episode downloads. And you can watch entire episodes of television streaming online, and they don't see anything from that, despite the fact that what they wrote is being used. Why are rich people so fucking greedy? Like these corporations can't afford to pay writers. Gah. Anyway, at the very least, I have stopped watching Grey's Anatomy online at work, because that is easy enough.

Okay, I'm sorry, I know I never stop, but can I just take a moment for this?
Thank you. Because, y'all, the only thing that got me through four hours of slinging lotion boxes at work last night was singing "Silver Cloud" in my head. Also, that picture slays me.

Here's another reason why I do actually hate country music: that song "I Hope You Dance." It's the worst song ever, and back in the summer of 2000 when I was taking driver's ed, I heard it all the time, because my weirdo driver's ed instructor listened to (southern) New Hampshire's only country station, and how I did not drive us all off the road ever remains a mystery to me. Evil! That song and all the music they play on that station (99.5?) is evil! Good night!

Can't stop blogging

Okay, I have a problem. I finally, finally stopped listening exclusively to that girl I won't shut up about and just put my iTunes library on shuffle (5579 songs!), and it's played her six times. At this point, I'll just go back to listening only to her. I think I have a problem, because I tried to shuffle my iTunes library yesterday, and that only lasted ten minutes before I went right back to Brandi. Anyway, I kind of feel like I should chill out on her before I OD. Is there some kind of Brandi Carlile methadone, so I can wean myself off of this and not get sick of her? Because I don't care how good something is--if I over-expose myself to it, I can no longer put up with it. That's why I really can't sit through Wayne's World in its entirety any longer. Sad. It will be even sadder if that happens to Brandi.

So here's how badly I need to do laundry: right now, I'm wearing toe socks. Why I even have toe socks in the first place is a mystery, but I have run out of regular socks, and these things are driving me crazy. I like the look of them, actually, on my feet, but they just feel so awkward. My toes need to be free, dammit. Thus, I started a load of laundry on my lunch hour.

Speaking of things that cover feet, these might be the coolest sneakers ever:
But I am also partial to these:
because I love things that are plaid. I don't have nearly enough plaid in my life.

In other news, I don't think I like the Dave Matthews Band any longer. This has been coming for a few years, but now I've finally decided to admit it. Dispatch, too, is lost on me. And R.E.M. and the Eels. But I can't bring myself to get rid of any of it. Happily, I can report I still like the Counting Crows, Guster, Ben Folds, and Ben Kweller. Maybe I really should just do a music purge. Then iTunes will only play Brandi Carlile more often.

Okay, so I watch reality TV trash. At least it's not Girls Next Door.

I know it says "no TV" in the sidebar over there, but I am weak for the lesbians, and Shot at Love was new last night. And holy shit, these bitches are all crazy. Except, of course, for Dani--who got to participate in some hot girl-on-girl action! Fuckin' finally. However, I don't want her to "win" this shit, because...weird. But who cares? It's not like the relationships that come of these shows ever last. Anyway, I'm really just watching in the hopes that Tila will make out with the girls, and the drama is so lame. Vanessa attacked Brandi for getting picked last--what a crazy bitch. How did she pass the psyche test? Seriously. However, it was awesome the way she attacked her--she went right for the hair, like she was trying to rip a wig off Brandi's head. It would have been even more awesome if Brandi had been wearing a wig, and Vanessa had snatched her bald. Then I would so get behind the catfighting, because--I can't really say why--wig-snatching is fuckin' funny. As it happened, though: stupid!

Big ups to Amanda for actually saying "for reals" without any kind of irony. That was hilarious. Also, I was waiting for some les to make some kind of remark about putting dick in her mouth during the totally retarded Fear Factor challenge, and Dani came through for me. Naturally, that nasty ass bull's penis was the only dick she's ever put in her mouth. She's a real lesbian. But why is she on this show???

Are people going to think that all lesbians are batshit crazy like Vanessa and Brandi appear to be? And what is up with Amanda? I don't get her, because she just looks so straight. And also like she's had a lot of work done. For some reason, tiny Tila seems to be most attracted to Amazon Amanda (out of all the girls, anyway), because she keeps calling her first, and just seeing them stand next to each other is rather comical. It's a good thing, I think, that Dani is on this show, because she's the gayest and the most normal. So not all lesbians are freaks. Got it, America? Oh, like more than four people even watch this show. Why do I even watch this show? Well, once Dani gets booted, I'll have no reason to, so there's that. Also, as Christmas gets closer, I'm sure I'll never be home anyway.

Here's a favorite thing I forgot to include about The Neverending Story: in the novel, when Bastian begins his quest with Atreyu and the knights, the knights sing "The Rain it Raineth Every Day" from Twelfth Night and tell Bastian the song came from a human, a fellow by the name of "Shexper." Love! Of course, there are no Shakespeare references in the movie. Although, do you think that's only in the translation? I'm sure they read Shakespeare in Germany, but what if it's something different in the original? Some song written by a German dude? How will I ever find out? I can't read German. Well, I have all day to search futilely on the internet, I suppose.

I saw this coming

Oh my god, you guys, The Neverending Story is so bad. I couldn't even, like, watch it--I had to get up and clean my room while it was on, because, yuck. No wonder Michael Ende didn't want anything to do with it, because it has almost nothing to do with the story he wrote. Everything is wrong! I mean, I won't even talk about how it's so visually unappealing, because this movie is as old as I am, so what do you want? The eighties were not a pretty decade. However, I could go on and on and on about what was wrong, even if I don't bitch and moan about how the entire second half of the book is gone, but I won't. Yet. Also, even ignoring that the story is all wrong, the movie is still painful to watch because Noah Hathaway, portrayer of Atreyu, is quite possibly the worst child actor I've ever seen. This became abundantly clear during the death of Artax, which, um, might have made me cry in the book--but just made me cringe and pick up some dirty clothes when I saw it on screen. Also, I don't know if this is just me, but Atreyu seemed much more solemn in the book--like, he was ten, but he was wise beyond his years somehow--and this Noah Hathaway made him such a fucking spaz. Blergh. Also, he's not green. Why not?

Okay, I know this is supah queeah, but really, one of the best scenes in the book is when Atreyu is trying to make his speech rhyme, so he can talk to the Southern Oracle, and of course that was so not in the movie, and the Oracle was much more forthright--everyone is much more forthright--and it was lame. I can't even tell you how many times I just yelled, "Oh, weak!" at the screen.

I really wish someone would make this a movie again, like Lord of the Rings style, because it could make a really great film. They could do it in two parts, you know, ending the first one right after Bastian finally saves Fantastica and beginning with his adventures in the forest/desert. But I doubt that Michael Ende's estate will ever let that happen--or that anyone would even want it to happen except for me.

The other thing that bugged was that they injected this "do what you dream" message that's totally not in the book. Well, maybe it is, in a more subtler way: since humans are no longer using their imaginations, both Fantastica and the human world are perishing, so people need to stop being so...German (you know, boring and industrious), and both worlds will get better. (I'm just kidding, German people, but you somehow got stereotyped that way in the twentieth century.) But in the movie, Bastian's dad is all, "Get your head outta the clouds, boy," and that's why Bastian can't give the Empress her name, because he won't let himself believe that this is really happening. The book Bastian just has low self-esteem; he thinks he can't possibly be the savior of Fantastica, that the Empress must be talking about somebody else, and that's why it takes him so long to save her. But the movie does pretty much ignore the personal journey of Bastian, which is the entire point of the book, so eff you, movie! Plus that "do what you dream" bananas is just so cheesy.

I could go on, but I'd have to read the book again. I can't do the kind of ranting I can do for Narnia, because I have those books memorized, but The Neverending Story will probably earn a spot close to the Narnia books. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I have never been so disappointed in a film adaptation of a book I loved. Here's my last gripe: the movie ends with Falkor, I believe, narrating and telling the audience that Bastian made many more wishes before he returned to the ordinary world, "but that's another story." Um, no it's not--it's this story. Assbags.

Flotsam, jetsam, and White Stripes videos

Okay, so I've been DVR-ing America's Next Top Model, and I just now got around to watching it, and I am just amazed that the dumbest girl on the show, Mila, is the first and only reality television show participant to use the word literally correctly. She did, too, saying the contestants, who were on a cruise ship, were all "in the same boat--literally." True dat, motherfucker.

Hurrah for Dustin Pedroia, too, y'all. I knew he'd be AL rookie of the year. If Theo lets Lowell get away, at least I still have Dustin and Josh, right? That doesn't mean I won't cry. Also, I really wonder what will happen if, for some reason, Theo buys A-Rod, because it appears that all of Red Sox Nation hates that guy. It would never work, bringing him to Boston; he'd never be part of the team--and if Boston fans hate you, and you're on their team, you're not going to be having any fun. And I'm not going to be having any fun. If Lowell gets away, we'd best end up with Tejada or Cabrera or anyone who is not Alex Rodriguez. Who's playing third base in Pawtucket? Bring his ass up. (I love to say "Pawtucket," but it is not a lovely place. Though I do miss driving through it for three seconds on the way back to Providence. Oh, Rhode Island, I do miss you.)

Sigh. You know, when Trot Nixon left, I was sad, because I loved him, but he was kind of crapping out. Mike Lowell is good! Keep him for four fucking years! Why is that so difficult? Stupid money. It ruins everything.

Speaking of which, I've decided that one day I am going to buy a Mac Book instead of an iMac, but I don't really have $1300 to drop on a computer I don't technically need, since the Dell still works. Oh my god, I've had that thing for three years now. That's the longest I've owned any piece of fancy technological equipment. But I really like Macs now. I used to hate them with the fire of a thousand and seven suns, but now they're all pretty and fast and easy to use. PCs are still easy to use, and I still know more about manipulating Windows than I do about OS X, but so many things can go wrong with Windows that I've never encountered on a Mac. Plus, Vista blows goats, yo, and Leopard may not be as amazing as Steve Jobs wants you to think it is, but still better than Vista. I wonder if we'll get to upgrade to Leopard at work. I hope so.

Do you know what I hate? Vh1. It manages to play music videos more often than MTV does, but it plays the same four videos over and over and over: that stupid Maroon 5 video where Adam Levine kills a guy or whatever (I hate Maroon 5--I only saw them that one time at Lupo's because they were touring with Jason Mraz, and Jason played first that night, and somehow (aka because of construction on 95 South) we missed it), that Colbie Caillat video, whatever Fergie's new monstrosity is (at least it isn't "Big Girls Don't Cry" anymore), and some Fallout Boy (?) video. Would it kill them to incorporate a little variety? Also, could they not show that Maroon 5 video once an hour? Christ. Though I did see Regina Spektor's video for "Better" this morning (or yesterday morning...), and I love it. But, really, what bogusity. Or bogusness, if you prefer. There are a bazillion music videos to choose from, and they have maybe twelve in their rotation.

Speaking of music videos, I have two favorites of all times: one is the White Stripes' video for "Fell in Love with a Girl," because it's made out of Legos:

And two is Kelly's video for "Since U Been Gone," because she has really pretty (fake) hair in it. And she's dressed like a boy in the parts where she's destroying her ex's apartment.

Y'all, don't eat Mexican food in New England. Even if it's allegedly prepared by actual Mexicans. There's no such thing as good Mexican food outside of Mexico or the Southwest. (I imagine--I've never been to Mexico, but I have been to the Southwest.) Which means I simply must go back to Texas, because I have a wicked hankering for some enchiladas and a good chile relleno, which is, like, the most impossible thing to find here. The restaurants up here ostensibly serve chile rellenos, but they're never delicious. Actually, I think I had the best chile relleno ever in New Mexico, so perhaps I should go back there, too. And then I should go to Old Mexico, because that's where all the deliciousness came from in the first place. But it's easier to go to Texas if you don't have a passport. Also, I miss my sweet potato like it's nobody's business. And his mama makes some pretty good enchiladas.

51 años, 9 meses, 4 días

Okay, so apparently, they made a movie of Love in the Time of Cholera, which...weird. I just can't picture Marquez's work translating into films--maybe it doesn't. I guess we'll see. But anyway, weird. The sense I got from the trailer was that Florentino and Fermina were star-crossed lovers and blah, blah, his love for her is true, so he waits fifty years for her, but when reading the book, I remember finding Florentino rather pathetic--Fermina even finds him rather pathetic after she is forcibly removed from the town they live in, and she ends up loving the man she actually marries and dismissing her affair with Florentino as teenage foolishness, much like Romeo and Juliet's actual love affair was (which is what makes the suicide so god damn stupid). Florentino is not exactly sympathetic; he's not as steadfast and true a lover as he thinks he is; he sleeps with 600 women while he waits for Fermina's husband to die, but contends none of them "counted" or whatever because he never loved them--and I think they were mostly prostitutes and married women. This is not a romantic story; it's a bizarre one, and that is why I liked it. I think the movie is, um, leaving all the weirdness out. But trailers are reductive, I guess.

Plus! It seems as though the entire soundtrack is by Shakira, which so does not fit in my head. Shakira and Gabo are both from Colombia, and there the similarities end. And I even like Shakira, okay? I own all her albums, and I had a really big crush on her in high school (before she died her hair blonde and released that English album). Wait! That's the problem: when I think of Shakira, now I only think of that American crap she does, like that heinous duet with Beyonce, but she's actually capable of much better stuff than that. So maybe she can write songs for this movie. As long as she wrote them in Spanish. I mean, her English is really good, and she allegedly taught herself the language by reading poetry, which I find awesome, but for some reason, her English songs kind of tank. (Did you know I can speak Spanish? I can. Kind of.)

Okay, so I just investigated this Shakira business, and she has three songs on the soundtrack, one of which she's already released (to my knowledge), and they're all in Spanish, so that's good news. And actually that song that I already know kind of does fit with Florentino's lovesick deal. How he imagines his lovesick deal to be--how tortured he is because he lost Fermina, and he only thinks of her more as the days go on.

I wake up Saturday morning, and finally I'll be all right

Oh my god, I am so glad this week is almost over. To celebrate Friday, here is the best thing ever:

Also, check it: that is a rotary phone. I don't know if I'm even old enough to remember those. Actually, I am, because my grandparents had one when I was still watching Sesame Street--and so did Alicia's parents, when I was too old to be watching Sesame Street. Oh! And I also had a toy one--you know, that one with the face, and it was on wheels? I don't think I ever really figured out how to dial a real phone number on a rotary phone, but I'm pretty sure I could do it now. I wonder if they still make that toy phone--that thing was a hit with toddlers everywhere. I think we may have even had it in the church nursery, when I was babysitting children on Sundays instead of being saved or whatever. (No, Episcopalians don't really go in for that "accepting Jesus Christ as your personal savior" brand of religion, but whatever. I was still ignoring Jesus in favor of playing with babies. And that is how I became the heathen that I am today!)

Do they still do the Yip Yips on Sesame Street? I don't think it would be as fun to see them checking out an iPhone or an HDTV or something. Those ancient props are part of the fun! They were definitely my faves. I think I wrote about my Sesame Street faves in my livejournal, so I won't rehash them here, but I was bored at work, so I decided to surf the youtube (as you do) for something other than Brandi Carlile concert videos, and I found these guys! I love these guys. They did a re-enactment of their encounter with the phone on Drawn Together, and I think that's why I wanted to find the real thing. Love it.

In other news, I think I finally like Grey's Anatomy again! Although, Bailey breaking down and crying when the Chief made her chief resident like she deserved? Not okay. But everything else was good, except that we actually had to sit through George and Izzie trying to have hot sex and failing. But it is good that they failed. Maybe this stupid thing will finally go away now. Poor Callie, though. She loses her man; she loses her position--but she still has Cristina. Right? Anyway, she shouldn't have been married to George; maybe she can be the one person who falls in love with someone who doesn't work at this hospital. Also, I kind of love Dr. Hahn. She is totally better than Burke. I'm kind of digging the relationship between the three older men on the show, too. It's getting back to be the show I remember.

How sad is Katimsky though as Thatcher Grey? Katimsky himself was always kind of pathetic, but he did take Rickie in and all that. I kind of liked him, I suppose, but now he's just awful. But perfect for this role. What's this guy's real name? I just always refer to him as Katimsky. I really need to watch those My So-Called Life DVDs again.

More about that foot fetish I don't (allegedly) have

Here's a thing I just discovered: all three of the boys were barefoot in Hampton Beach. I love them all. To pieces! Brandi was wearing those damn cowboy boots, which I hate more than the vest. Why is she the only one who always wears shoes? Why does Tim wear shoes now? Why didn't I get closer to the damn stage? Hampton Beach is farther away than I realized. And I had to work. And wait for my mother to be ready to go once I'd gotten home from work. I should have taken Mike; I can drag his ass anywhere--but I didn't know that until I dragged his ass to Vermont. I am so glad I have 3 people I can take to these concerts, because next time they're in New England, I'm hitting every single show. They won't play anywhere that's farther than Burlington, VT, so it'll be totally doable. (Some places in Maine might be a little more than three hours away, but not enough for it to matter!) Have they ever played in Connecticut? I know they were in Rhode Island in 2005, because I wasn't there, despite the fact that they were, like, five hundred yards from where I lived (and, seriously, I don't have many regrets, and that's near the top of the list), and they've been to Maine, Massachusetts, Vermont, and New Hampshire. So that's everywhere but Connecticut (as far as I know). Hah, that's okay. Connecticut makes me break out in hives anyway. I'd love to see them at Lupo's--but the old Lupo's, not the new Lupo's, which is actually the Strand, a hot nightclub, so you have an Avalon situation going on where everyone has to clear out at ten so the place can become a happenin' dance club or whatever the fuck. I loved the old Lupo's; I saw Ben Folds and Maroon 5 there--Ben Folds was way better. So since I'll never see anyone at the old Lupo's again, I should drop that fantasy, but I think the new Lupo's is the only place for them in Rhode Island, especially since Providence College could no longer contain them. I wonder if any of the lesbians appeared at this show. God dammit, why wasn't I there?

Anyway, I've been having a crappy week. Both jobs have been crazy stressful, which is something that's never happened at the same time, but it's Christmas time in retail, y'all. Yesterday, I tried to call out of Bath & Body Works, but Liz begged and begged me to come in, so I couldn't say no, but all I really wanted was to watch South Park with Mike and then go home and cuddle with Chuck. (Tuesday night we got to take a nap together when I fell asleep watching Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, and it was so nice. Oh, that reminds me of two things I have to talk about now: my cat and this Tila Tequila bidness.) So I was in a heinous mood on my way to the mall, and not even Brandi was having any effect on my sourness--until, that is, my iPod shuffled onto "Downpour," and I just calmed right the fuck down, and I was like, "Liz is my friend, and she needs my help tonight, so tonight I will do my best to help her, even though I'd rather be watching vulgar cartoons with my best friend." What is it about that song? Sometimes I can't even handle how much I love it. I know it's about her parents, and I don't really have the kind of relationship with mine that she has with hers, because I still live with one of them--and see the other pretty regularly--but I just...think it's beautiful. She's amazing, truly.

So, speaking of Brandi and my oft-neglected kitten, Monday, which was the craziest of the crazy stressful days, my mom called me because I was still at work at six and left me this message that was like, "I was just wondering if you were coming home for dinner. And there's a kitten here who's so sad since you went away," which, like, made me upset, because I miss Charles Wallace when I'm working all the time, but it also made me laugh, because she'd put a Brandi Carlile lyric in her message. The only reason she did this is because "What Can I Say" is my ringback tone (natch), but it was still awesome.

Okay, now onto this Tila Tequila business. I haven't watched MTV in a trillion years, because there is no music on that channel anywhere, ever, any longer, but I was home at night for the first time in forever, and this heinous dating show had lesbians on it. Okay? I'm weak for the lesbians. I couldn't seem to turn it off, even though it had lesbians and straight dudes competing for this one tiny chick who doesn't seem that appealing to me. Really, I was just hoping for some hot girl on girl action (isn't that why anyone watches reality television?), but thus far, nothin' to speak of. Not much in the guy on girl department either, which seems weird. Maybe this Tila doesn't want to be considered a whore. Whatever. I've never even heard of this bitch, either. Who is she, and why are all these people on television to compete for her affections? Anyway, none of the lesbians are even particularly attractive, except for the only one who looks like a lesbian, Dani, who I believe is there because MTV wanted at least one stereotypical dyke on the show. The other bitches look like your typical MTV reality skanks. Dani is also the most articulate, the most normal-seeming, and the cutest (and I usually don't go for the girls with boyish hair). How did she get mixed up in this craziness in the first place? Also, she's a firefighter. I kind of love that. When Dani gets booted, she can come on home to me.

Anyway, other than the aforementioned depressing lack of hot girl-on-girl action, there is one more thing that bugs me, and that is what some of the guys have to say about the lesbians. One of the episodes featured a girls vs. dudes obstacle course race, and the girls won, which really irritated those macho buttheads, and one of them was like, "Well, we lost to lesbians. They're not technically girls--they're guys." And I almost turned the tv off for that--how stupid is that? And then someone bitched about losing to "a bunch of he-shes." Idiots. Lesbians are girls--no one on the show is transgender--and just because they like girls doesn't mean they're masculine in any way. I hate it when guys can't handle losing anything to girls. How insecure are you that you can't admit a girl might do something better than you?

Oh, and then! There was a girl on there who was a virgin, and some guy had to get up in a big ruckus about how could she know she's gay if she's never been with a guy--how does she even know what she wants? I hate that! And she came back with the appropriate response: how do you know you're straight? Have you ever been with a guy? Seriously, people, you don't have to have sex to realize who you're attracted to.

Well. I didn't really mean for that to turn into an angry gay PSA, but people in this country are still so backward about homosexuality that sometimes it makes me so angry I can't see straight.

Where's your motivation?

I spent the morning doing this wicked geeky thing. I think I want to put it on a t-shirt:
I also think the second "o" may need to be moved down a smidge. Anyway. (Words aren't mine. Guess whose they are. Geeky stopwatch idea, though: all mine.) This is not as good as my Liz Phair "Chopsticks" t-shirt, but oh well. I hope I still have that image--I need to make a new t-shirt with it.

Okay, I've resisted this for, I don't know, maybe an actual week, but I have to talk about it. Allegedly, Brandi Carlile wrote some songs for Mandy Moore, which I find absolutely hilarious, but for one very specific reason: their names rhyme. So Brandi and Mandy worked on some songs together. I can't say that and not laugh about it in my head. It's almost as good as when she was dating Andy Roddick--that was even better, because they were dating, so it was a longer partnership, and her name was his with an m in front of it, so you had the visual similarities plus the rhyming. They were totally the only celebrity couple that mattered to me just because they almost had the same name.

I may have other opinions on this Brandi/Mandy (...hee!) collaboration, but it appears nothing has actually come of it, so I'll keep them to myself.

That is another story and shall be told another time

Okay, I've been trying to resist the urge to post more than once a day, but whatever. I had to get all that BBW bananas off my chest, and now I have a million more things to say!

Let's start with this:
That, my friends, is a squirrel eating a Cheeto. I can't even handle it. (Snagged from cuteoverload.) I also really want some Cheetos. I would say time for a Target trip, but I never did get those mellowcreme pumpkins. Which is probably just as well. But Cheetos, mmmm. I don't know if I can resist their siren song.

Okay, just because, here's my best effort into getting the lyrics to Tim's new song "A Promise to Keep" (stuff in parentheses is my best guess):
I still talk to you in my sleep
I don't say much, (cuz the hurt runs too deep)
I gave you the moon and the stars to keep
but you gave them back to me

The hill I'm walking up is getting good and steep
But I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I still lay on my side of the bed
Dance alone when (my last dollar's spent)
Memories like a river runnin' through my head
I'll have me an ocean before I'm dead

The hill I'm walking up is getting good and steep
But I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I still whisper sweet words to you
when I'm busy with nothing to do
Pray to God that my words ring true
and that your words might reach me too

The hill I'm walking up is getting good and steep
But I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

My heart's in pieces, so please understand
I try to jump but I've nowhere to land
So give me your heart
and I'll give you my hand
and try as god damn hard as I can

The hill I'm walking up is getting good and steep
But I'm still looking for a promise even I can't keep

I fucking love this song. Once these fools are finally done touring, they need to record a new album immediately. Immediately. (Every time I say "immediately," I hear Tim Meadows saying it in Mean Girls: "All junior girls report to the gymnasium immediately. Immediately." That's why I always say it twice. What did I tell you about Mean Girls running my subconscious?)

Ohmygod, did you know that Legally Blonde is based upon a novel? It is! It's true! See? Clearly, I must read it now, but I'm pretty sure it'll be kinda crappy. The movie is good because Reese Witherspoon is charming. And because I almost always find Jennifer Coolidge hilarious. I mean, the movie had a million opportunities to suck, but it never did--because of the acting. Unless this Amanda Brown is an especially adept writer, I don't think Elle will be half as charming on the printed page. But whatever! I'll read it anyway. Just like I read Emma because Clueless was based upon it. Ugh, actually, maybe I won't read it. I just read the first two pages on Amazon, and it's so much worse than The Devil Wears Prada. I don't think I have it in me--I don't love Legally Blonde as much as I love Clueless, and at least Jane Austen knew how to write a story.

Speaking of novels as sources for movies, The Neverending Story novel is so good. I found the movie and the first sequel at Target for eight bucks, but I haven't watched them yet, because I wanted to finish the book first--but from what I recall, the whole second half of the book is left out of the movie, and, y'all, the second half of the book is the best part. I was worried about the book, because I'd read that the translation was stilted and awkward, but I didn't think that was the case at all. A little bit, in some of the dialogue, maybe, but translating is hard. (Also, why is it that whenever a book is translated into English, it's translated into British English? Is that the correct international form of English? Since, you know, English...came from there and all? Okay, never mind.) The way something is written is usually more important to me than the plot, so I'm so glad that wasn't an obstruction, because there are so many good things in this book. Number one is this short scene where Bastian feels that hurt in his heart that I tried to describe some months ago when he reads something that especially moves him, and of course I can't remember where it is now, but I'll find it. Because I will totally be reading this book again. Just you wait till I watch the movie again, too, because I am sure I will have many millions of nits to pick. I haven't finished it yet, and I already love this book as much as the His Dark Materials trilogy. So, in conclusion, big ups to Brandi Carlile for tattooing the auryn on her arms and making me research The Neverending Story, because if not for her obsession with the movie (and my obsession with her), I probably never would have read the book. (You know it always comes back to her. I just have to stop resisting, I guess.)

I have this awkward habit of, like, singing to myself in public when I have a song stuck in my head. Usually, I sing it just loudly enough to be heard or just quietly enough so that it looks like I'm a crazy person muttering to myself (which I am sometimes). Anyway, it mortifies me, but I can't prevent it from happening. Today, I was singing "Tired" in Panera. Can't stop myself. While I waited in line at the Higher Ground, I was singing just this line from "That Year": "Ten years I never spoke your name" over and over again, and I couldn't stop. Also, it's not always Brandi Carlile songs that make me do this--it's just that lately I haven't really been listening to anything else. Surprise.

Pass the hours away just to keep myself alive

Lemme tell you somethin'. I haven't had a weekend off since my Brandi Carlile weekend, which was a month ago. And I'm not gonna have a weekend off until February. If ever. Why do I still work retail? Oh right. Because I'm po'.

Anyway, yesterday sucked. I was at Bath & Body Works for ten hours, and five and a half of those hours were for a fucking holiday floorset, run by the Devil herself. Although, she was so not as devilicious as she could have been. I miss Bruce. And the floorset was full of new people who had no idea what they were doing, and I got stuck with the worst one. In all of those five and half hours, I only set two tables. Sigh. There was one bright spot, though, in the interminable night, that totally lifted my spirits for the last two hours. I bet you can guess what it might be.

Some beautiful human at Limited Brands, Inc. put "The Story" on the new Bath & Body Works CD. Oh, yes. It was fantastic, because "Fidelity" had just been on--and that had made me happy enough--and I was walking through the store, cleaning a plexiglass box for a table I was setting, and I barely heard the opening notes, and I stopped dead like, "This is not 'The Story.'" But then: "All of these lines across my face..." It was! And I sang along while I set the table, and I was giddy for an hour. The new CD so does not suck. Regina AND Brandi. And! "Behind These Hazel Eyes." I'm just gonna spend all my time at work singing badly. I have a feeling, though, that now I'm totally going to be outed as a crazy Brandi Carlile fan at work, but oh well. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Right?

Anyway, thank god for Brandi, y'all, getting me through a ten-hour day at the mall. However, this CD will not last long, because the full-on Christmas floorset is in, like, two weeks. Fuck that! I quit!

Oh! I forgot to say that my favorite part of the video for that new song "A Promise to Keep" is at the end, when Brandi claps for Tim. She's so sweet--and you can totally tell she loves his song. Okay, the end.

No more backyard rock stars howling at the moon

That damn girl and her band have another new song. Tim wrote this one. It's fucking beautiful. Instead of working right now, I'm trying to figure out lyrics. It's called "A Promise to Keep." Tim is awesome. This song reminds me, kind of, of "Hiding My Heart," which the magnificent Tim Hanseroth also wrote. You know, this girl would be so not as fun without the twins. I would still accept her by herself, because I love her, but the twins make everything amazing. Also, Josh. I love Josh.

Anyway, there's this line in the song: "I gave you the moon and the stars to keep, but you gave them back to me" that especially kills me. Seriously, it went right through my heart. Tim's words and her voice are a phenomenal combination. But let me tell you a secret: I like Tim's new songs better than hers. Don't tell her, okay? No, I totally love "Same Ol' You" and "Pride and Joy" as much as I love this one and "How These Days Grow Long." "Love Songs" and "That Year" are lovely as well, and I get a kick out of "I Write These Words," but "How These Days Grow Long" tops them all. Hooray for Tim.

Now, on to more distressing things. If the Red Sox lose Lowell and gain A-Rod, then I really don't know what I'll do. I couldn't be a Sox fan with him on the team. He's like poison. He's the best baseball player ever, blah, blah, blah, but that's not what's important to me. Mike Lowell is a great player, too, and he's all around awesome, as far as we can tell. Alex Rodriguez is a first class asshole. He belongs on the Yankees, hated not just by Sox fans, but by every other team's fans. I like when the team wins games as much as anyone, and hell yes, this World Series was fun, but I want to be able to like the team, you know? Even weirdo Manny appreciantes the fans. I'll keep him. But A-Rod is such a douche, gah. I still can't get over how he smacked Bronson Arroyo to get by him on the way to first base. Who does that? Who?

You know who will put up the money for Lowell if the Red Sox don't offer him a deal he likes? The fucking Yankees. Don't be another Damon, Mike, please. Even if Johnny pretty much crapped out after leaving the Red Sox (that's what you get, traitor). I'm going to hurl. I hate how important money is in these shenanigans. Mike Lowell deserves whatever he asks for, Theo. That is the truth. I am also happy that most of Red Sox Nation agrees with me. Keep A-Rod as far away from Boston as possible, thanks. I'd rather go another 86 years without a World Series title than have to cheer for him. I think the thing about him is that he doesn't know how to be a part of a team. This could just be me romanticizing things in Boston, but the Red Sox are a team. And I like that.

Maybe I'll just have to be an Orioles fan if this doesn't work out.

In other distressing news, have you seen this trailer for Alvin and the Chipmunks? Jeff and I were obsessed with Alvin and the Chipmunks when we were little. We must have seen that movie where they race the Chipettes around the world in hot air balloons (I know!), like, seventy-six times. I think my mom even made Jeff a shirt with a yellow 'A' on it--and we each had dolls: he, Alvin and I, Simon. (Always the nerd, I was.) But this movie looks terrible--like Alvin putting a piece of Theodore's shit in his mouth? What the hell! That's not even gross-out humor; that's just wrong. And Jason Lee as Dave? Although he does do a pretty good "Alvin!" yell. Maybe that's why he got the part. Still. It's all wrong. All, all wrong. In the movie, they look actual chipmunk-sized, but in the fabulous cartoon, they were kid-sized. Like overgrown chipmunks. I guess because this is live-action, they have to make it more realistic. That's hilarious. Singing, dancing chipmunks--let's make it more realistic. There's no way this will top the movie where they race around the globe in hot air balloons. Will I see it anyway? Maybe. But I didn't see the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie, and I loved them when I was a kid.

Speaking of trailers, the latest for The Golden Compass is much more explicit in outlining the story, and I'm really not liking how reductive they seem to have made the plot. But it is only a trailer, after all. I am still crazy excited for this movie. And it comes out in a month! Hurrah. Also, the golden compass is not called the golden compass, ever, in the book. When Lyra sees it for the first time, she think it looks like a golden compass. Because it's not a compass; it's a motherfucking alethiometer. Get it right!