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friday, september 27, 2002 in other news, i had a dream last night where i was hanging out in a van with guided by voices. bob was trying out some new material. tim loved me. tim is my new favorite.
wednesday, september 25, 2002 spoon: i have already discussed how much i love spoon, no? they did not disappoint. can you stand a few more words on the subject of music? if so, click over to 75 or less, where i tell you why you should buy the new ok go record. i also saw 24 hour party people and was kind of underwhelmed. you should see igby goes down instead. it's extremely dark, and intense, and funny, and great. makes you feel. and kieran is amazing. that's all i gots today. the weekend of rawk started a day early, thanks to my buddy leigh ann, who wound up with an extry ticket to phantom planet. superdrag opened. they were all wearing blazers from like the 80s. very strong 80s vibe all around, actually. phantom planet were all right, as i recall. i guess i'm supposed to care because max fisher is up there with the rock earmuffs on. ahem: no. also, i felt like grandma moses in that crowd. i think the high school swim team stopped by after practice. and there was at least one extremely uptight sophomore who doesn't know he's gay yet. after the show leigh ann made some boy perform not one but TWO rockstar herkies in exchange for a cigarette. that cracked my shit up. he had to make people move out of the way, and some girl got kicked in the ribs. seriously! hilarious. and then we went to enid's and after a while, commenced with a drunk photo shoot. unfortunately we look weird in just about every picture. the point is, and i do have one, that no one rocks quite like leigh ann, which is why i am on the verge of tears (no joke!) today: it's her last day here. the fashion, the sweetness, the rockstarness, the accent: it's just heartbreaking that she's leaving. *cries* you've been invited to a war with iraq! [via randi] it's nate's birthday today. doesn't he look foxy up there, breakin' the law in the basement of swim? can you believe he's single? neither can i! happy birthday, nate. okay this is fucking hilarious: the emo video game. shockingly (hilariously) unsuitable for work, however. i didn't get to hurl seven-inch records at steven tyler as promised due to the horrendous acts being perpetrated upon the get-up kids, who'd been kidnapped. you must click. so, my previously soaring half.com sales seem to be levelling off. hey, any of you want to buy some of my stuff? hey, how about that: spoon and bright eyes. seems like everybody wants to, um, do a rock star these days. [via the modern age] cable in the south pole? my manhattan apartment is not wired for cable and they're hooking up the south pole?? blah blah blah rhett article blah blah blah.
wednesday, september 18, 2002 this is a fun interview with spoon's britt daniel wherein the editor of nerve makes him uncomfortable. quite amusing. thanks jami. hispanic kids in l.a. love morrissey. weird. ew. this is kind of scary: jake gyllenhaal's ribs. epic records is now sending out review copies of cds that are glued into discmans. when will they learn? oh, and for those non-longtime readers who are dying to know what i was spouting back in, say, 2001, or who want to gaze upon my most recent gbv pictures or whatever, the archives are now back up, in a new spot, thanks to mr. john chabalko. the year 2000 still has to be cleaned of offending references, but that shouldn't take too long.
the pictures are from battery park on friday evening. it was dusk by the time i got down there to meet scott. i'd had to exit the subway at chambers, because it was veering east, not going to south ferry apparently, and so i was forced to finally witness ground zero for the first time. as expected, it was just a big empty bright lot with a lot of buildings around it. it's really not that big, though. i still want them to build two more giant, really cool towers, but even if they dedicated all of the existing space to memorial, it wouldn't be enough. i sort of forgot about all that, however, as i happily made my way down the twisty waterfront park area. it was so pretty, with the setting sun and the water and the greenery and benches. i found scott sitting on these stone riser things built into what passes for a hill in manhattan. the grass was deep and thick and very green; i kept grabbing handfuls of it. highly satisfying grass. so we sat and talked and moved our bare feet around in the grass and watched the pink sky until it got gray and the lights came on. then we commenced with the rest of our evening: eating, drinking, laughing, etc. it was a fun night. and he became the first person to present me with a state t-shirt! behold the Biggest Piece of Gossip Ever: what world figure (yes, world figure!) had a potentially scandalous e-mail and in-the-flesh affair with a prominent sexpert? don't even think about asking me. I'VE BEEN SWORN TO SECRECY. man, i thought the word on clinton was that he *did* know what he was talking about: "When you're president you learn to act like you know what you're talking about," Clinton replied. "You don't lose it overnight; it sort of drifts away from you."
thursday, september 12, 2002 so yesterday is over, finally. i'd wanted to mark the anniversary in some personal way, and i'd decided to walk to work, for some reason. but it was way too goddamn windy (things were flying into my eyes), so i abandoned ship. instead i worked late, went home, watched depressing tv and cried, like i felt i should, onion headlines be damned. and then, when the 9/11 documentary was almost over, tamar said, "i hate to say it, but he's cute," in reference to the probie firefighter. i laughed and said, "no, those frenchies are cute." oh come on. they are. anyone else feel like those 9/11 subway ads that blanket entire cars are just a little bit fucking much?
The Day Our World Changed: Children's Art of 9/11.
tuesday, september 10, 2002 al qaeda seeping back into afghanistan.
i went to the races on saturday. jami's brother is the most serious horse racing fan/bettor i have ever seen. he started his tutorial on the walk from his beautiful sunnyside gardens house to the train station, suspended it on the platform, and continued it on the train, where he whipped out printouts of statistics and showed me how to read them. (they were interesting literary documents, too: trying to decipher phraseology such as "might be worth a toss in underneath if he's not a bomb on the board" was quite hilarious, at least for an english major like me.) "we do not expect you to understand everything today, but we do expect you to ask questions," he said. oh the pressure! mostly my questions were along the lines of, "what's in these mint juleps, anyway?" and "are you sure Symbolic Cat isn't going to win this race?" heh. it was a good time. and i ended up a whole dollar richer. speaking of rich, i have made almost three hundred bucks on half.com! who knew all those cds i impulse-bought and never listened to would net me such cashola? far, far better than enduring the disdainful looks of your local record store clerk. |
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