saturday, november 30, 2002

so wednesday night, post-blockbuster, steve and i hit wegman's for some brussels sprouts and popcorn. that place is amazing. they have several bins outside where you can recycle your used plastic bags. there is a little train that chugs around on an elevated track near the candy section, with choo-choo sound effects just eerie enough to freak you out in the late-night quiet of a suburban superstore. the magazine rack is like a mile long, and they have things like butter-toffee-covered popcorn. it's so freaky.

we rented audition, which i didn't really get into. someone described it to me as a horror film, but it didn't get very horrific until the end. eh. last night we went to the freehold multiplex, which was just roiling with pimply new jersey adolescence. we saw the ring: so creepy, and are naomi watts's teeth always so messed up? i liked it a lot. (note: this is one of two entertainments consumed this weekend that features people being victimized by their tv's. makes me want to renew my let's-not-get-cable argument.) this afternoon we caught 8 mile, which was very entertaining. nothing too out of the ordinary but eminem's really good. and that sex scene? hot. then tonight i watched the business of strangers. good acting and interesting tattoos on julia stiles. and now i am down in steve's basement lair with half an eye on the thin red line. i like it down here. steve's got this little corner with a giant tv, computer, area rug, and leather recliner. it's like the smallest studio apartment ever.

my thanksgiving was fine, thanks. i watched about eight of those buffy marathon episodes. it's not really a big thing in my family. no extended family to deal with. mom cooks a turkey and a bunch of vegetables, and we eat. there was some really nasty key lime cheesecake. at first it seemed like regular cheesecake and then the limeyness of it kicked in with unexpected force. have you ever even heard of key lime cheesecake? it was exceedingly weird.

wednesday, november 27, 2002
i am heading to the new jersey hinterlands this very minute. am looking forward to the initial greeting of the family dog (enthusiasm level not to be repeated till the next time i return), brussels sprouts, target, movie-hopping, and the buffy marathon. and oh yeah hanging with the family members.

watch out, turkeys are notorious tricksters: haaaaaa.

excellent article about cabaret laws and the "dance police" in new york. [via the modern age]

i still cannot get over the hilarity of some amazon pages saying "customers who wear clothes also shop for: clean underwear from the gap!" oh, it hurts.

alcoholism is heart-healthy.

glenda bailey: "my work has changed the world for the better." (probably taken out of context, but still pretty hilarious.)

friday, november 22, 2002
okay so here is what happened that night in the diner: david wells got "offended" (i.e. got his teeth knocked out) by some dude. you can listen to the 911 call in which he repeatedly insists he's been "offended." justice has been served.

boooooo! i wonder how much those fuckers at the mta spent on the shiny white tiles they used to cover up the existing dirty tiles in my subway station.

gross yet funny story about "bumpers" in rockefeller center. [via the morning news.

pointless story of the week: i got injured this morning before i'd even left my building! i'd exited my apartment and stopped on the stairwell landing to grab an umbrella off the pile of crap (recycling bins, air conditioners, vacuum cleaners) we store there. i then looked down into my bag to adjust my discman before descending the stairs. i then raised my head and crash-crash-OW, three fans came tumbling down on my head. "uhhhh," i whimpered, vaguely mindful of the cough i had just heard coming from upstairs, where neighbors moved in about a month ago. i dropped my bag and umbrella, let myself back into my apartment, and stumbled into the bathroom. blood and lip gloss everywhere! my lip was split in the corner and my mouth was all bloody. totally fucked up at 9:15 in the morning! how did this happen? i iced it for a few minutes to prevent swelling and ease the pain, and called my boss, kind of enjoying the ridiculousness of the message i was leaving to explain my lateness. it's still a little sore but starting to heal and not that big of a deal. still: bloody lip in the morning, wondering whether to bring the ice with me on the subway--unusual. and who, you ask, stacked up these three fans on top of each other on the top shelf of the utility shelf? that would be moi. at the time, i thought it might be theoretically dangerous, but i couldn't think of a situation in which they would fall on anyone. now i can. duh.

wednesday, november 20, 2002
profile of conor oberst that compares him to both bob dylan and hello kitty. that has to be a first.

this weekend one of the very few things i did was read this wonderful book, nowhere man. the author, aleksandar hemon, only began writing english a couple of years ago. the book caused me, upon finishing it and going to bed, to leap out of bed and stand in the middle of my bedroom, terrified beyond all reason that that scrabbly sound i heard in the walls was a mouse that was going to jump down my throat and spend all of eternity there. you should read it. anyway, here is aleksandar hemon on influences--positive, negative, and totally random.

god bless pitchfork and their top 100 albums of the 80s. it's nice to know there is a universe where "80s" and "madonna" are not synonymous. (for the record: i have about 25 of those albums and a bunch more now on my to-buy list. thank you pitchfork. now please start writing all your reviews at this length and maturity level.)

oh my god, how cool are these pumas made from thrift-store clothes? if you get me a pair, i will lick your boots. [via scrubbles]

tuesday, november 19, 2002
some people have been getting sassy with me about my lack of updates. cool out, i say to them. sometimes you just have to wait for the good stuff, for the inspiration to strike. like for instance, when michael jackson DANGLES HIS BABY OVER A GODDAMN BALCONY. dude makes the headlines twice in one week! first with that outrageous nose situation, and now with the baby-dangling! i cannot get enough of that shit. tonight, after buffy (oh my GOD) and 24 (oh my), i happened to tune in to fox 5 news. now, i hate to be a prissy mofo, but i get most of my news from npr in the morning, and nytimes.com (and weblogs! yes!) during the day. i do not tune in to the tabloid news programs very often. i had forgotten how infuriating and absurd they are. they spent like 10 minutes showing this surveillance tape from a diner featuring diners and diner workers moving seats, talking, eating, getting up, walking around, laying their heads on one another, and sitting back down, with commentary overlaid. "now look how he shifts slightly in his chair so that he may converse more easily with the other patrons," the narrator intoned. one of the diners was yankee pitcher david wells, yet they never got around to mentioning why this was significant. we finally learned that the "frightened cashier" was to take the stand tomorrow. i had to wait this long to see the michael jackson video! news values, people! jesus! (i had also forgotten how entertaining tabloid news can be.)

by the way betsy was AT THE SCENE of the baby-dangling in berlin! she is posting from europe, you know. in fact, she is posting way more than she used to when she was chained to a desk in new york. hmmm....

i would like to take this opportunity to remind all my peeps that there is a party happening at my house december 7. if you haven't been invited yet, that is because the official invites have not gone out yet. however, holly is getting typically antsy and ridiculous about sending out the goddamn evite, so i'm just here to remind you that you will be invited, and you will be expected to attend on december 7. there is a real possiblitythat we will have at least one actual celebrity in our midst. we are not kidding this time. december 7. plan accordingly.

also, if anyone would like to give me presents for christmas or for my birthday, which follows christmas pretty much immediately, i really like these fucked-up bear figurines. especially bye-bye bear. and i could use a massage.

friday, november 15, 2002
trapped in a shame spiral: it was like rhett fronting a wedding band. or an old 97s cover band. it felt fake, and wrong, and weird. the rest of the band had no stage presence, so by contrast rhett looked like his mommy had told him to be sure to smile and do all his rock moves. it felt like a parody. which is not to say that i didn't sometimes guiltily sing along and bob my head, but it was sad. michelle f. and i enjoyed trash-talking our way through the set, especially because her friend was taping, so there was a microphone just waiting to receive our cynical barbs. i only booed once (at the "air suppliers" lyric). i cackled maniacally several times. everything sounded really, really weird, let me just emphasize that. and rhett should never, ever cover "wave of mutilation" with that band ever again. conclusion: i miss the old 97s. rhett's on conan tonight if you would like to hate along at home.

todd, on the other hand, was a total class act. he played solo, with an acoustic guitar and no bullshit. set against the spectacle of what has happened to rhett, his performance was a revelation: solid, honest, and most important, NOT LAME. be sure to check out todd's spiffy new website and his new single, too.

oh, but i have some names to drop! one of the best parts of the evening was getting to hang out with two lovely, fun-to-talk-to web girls whom i'd never met before: audrey (who only knows rhett from his solo cd!!) and laura (who actually loves ryan adams, in case you were worried). they rock. end of story.

nick nails my feelings on harry potter; jami rails against williamsburg, dirty-style.

principal from "ferris beuller" arrested on child-sex charges.

thursday, november 14, 2002
so tonight i am breaking my self-imposed boycott and going to see the hot wimp play at bowery. yes, i hate the new album. and i am fiercely opposed to the idea of rhett playing with a full band that is not the old 97s, let alone one with the lamentable name of "the instigators." however, i think todd is opening, and the ticket is free thanks to tamar. my sources tell me rhett played a "thrashy" version of "barrier reef" the other night in d.c. should be interesting at the very least. if i happen to run into rhett, i am going to ask what up with that gold tooth. wish me luck.

heh: spin vs. blender in battle of the music-magazine "house bands." (rolling stone dropped out, apparently scared.) on the judging panel? horrible times music critic kelefa sanneh! this is going to be fun.

i don't know if my mom still reads this page, because frankly it probably contains a teensy bit more information than is necessary for her to have, and if i were her, i would've stopped by now. however, mom, if you're reading this, happy birthday!

wednesday, november 13, 2002
mclusky tore through the mercury lounge last night, even investing their microphone checks with hilariously hair-raising howls. the industry-heavy crowd was a bit staid, but the band rocked most fiercely no matter what those dumb bitches in the bathroom said. and their hair was a fucking delight. you should go see them if you can.

after their set i ran into the matador marketing chick who engineered the beers with bob thing. she's so nice. but anyway that reminded me to check their site to see if they put up the contest winners' accounts of that evening, which said marketing chick had solicited from us. apparently i was the only dork to oblige.

"moral calculus" my ass: a story about how they train special forces to kill efficiently. recently i was hanging out someone who hopes to be in the special forces one day, and he said that he wanted to be "where the metal meets the meat." i grimaced and kept my mouth shut.

since i'm underexpressive these days, why don't you go visit eileen. her thoughts on "beauty and the beast" alone are worth the click.

the target boat docks this week! i think holly and i will descend upon it with glee to prepare for our next fabulous party.

life lessons of the buffyverse. [via fimoculous]

wednesday, november 6, 2002
i read this in new york magazine the other night, and i think it is possibly the greatest thing ever written in new york magazine: times book critic uses the word "limn" way too much.

weird literary shit: "life of pi," winner of the booker prize, has the same premise as a brazilian novel published 20 years ago; accused author keeps bizarrely referring to nonexistent john updike review of the earlier work. [via the morning news]

excuse me, but the "diffident spirit of punk rock"? diffident, for real? is nobody editing over there at the times? i agree with laura: this kalefa person must be stopped.

bring out the jacket, let's make some racket!

i want to see ok go again and again.

monday, november 4, 2002

cmj is so damn hot (night four)
the final night! jami had bailed out (guess that's what happens when you get old), but luckily tamar was up for subpop night at the mercury lounge. unfortunately, so were lots of other people, probably owing to the involvement of host david cross, and we didn't get in despite arriving at 8:30. rather disappointing. plan b, the capitol showcase at bowery, was slightly less exciting but proved to be quite fun. i'd seen ok go and my morning jacket before, but they both ruled. damian is so the new rhett. i swear to god, i think he cannonballed onstage, and the rockstar moves just did not stop. and my morning jacket's country fuzzcore brought a tear to at least one spectator's eye (uh, not mine). leigh ann and her buddies from tennessee were there too. nobody was really too into the music, who sounded a lot like jane's addiction. so we left and hit lit, and there was a photo shoot, featuring a stolen russian hat, lots of tongue, and "the rock lock." enjoy:

they don't call it a marathon for nothing (night three)
friday was jami's birthday. after wolfing red meat and red wine (and a bundt cake that looked like a giant donut), we headed over to irving plaza to see everybody's favorite scottish punks, idlewild. yowza! they rock pretty hard. and they're scottish. then because i was yet again inappropriately shod, we made a quick pitstop at my house so i could exercise some common sense and put on some flat shoes. then we hightailed it to village underground in time to see palomar, a band that consisted of three girls with guitars and one bespectacled dude on drums. we thought they pretty much sucked ass. so we proceeded to the late-night bowery ballroom show. french kicks, contrary to previous experience, sounded great and made me dance. the drummer/lead singer was very bouncy and happy, and their music was just infectious. then the walkmen came on, at 2:45 a.m. i might add. oh my god. they were incredible. i love their album, but live it just soared. i hate to make comparisons, because they have their own magical sound, but they reminded me of a perfect amalgam of u2 and radiohead. best show i saw the whole conference, hands down. (check some cool photos from a different show of theirs; i wasn't feelin' the paparazzi bug.)

so, in sum, cmj was a blast. i skipped the gossip show last night to do some work and to rest up. but today i am still tired and battling a cold-announcing sore throat. i sure hope i don't have the indie-rock flu. i've got spoon tomorrow!

and finally, some new daily clicks: braquage, nonstop pop, and melodynelson.com. all beautifully designed and music-centric.

friday, november 1, 2002

cmj gets you in free (night two)
last night was the beginning of jami's birthday, and so she was allowed to nix the plan. so we did not go see the pattern, pretty girls make graves, and ted leo at warsaw. instead we stayed at the mercury lounge for bloodshot's showcase, which was fine by me. i loved trailer bride. nice spooky, gothic country. chick singer wore a cape and played a saw, as you can see above. picked up a cd of theirs, too. next up was rex hobart and the misery boys: extreeeeemely country. their drummer drummed in a mike tyson mask. then it was leigh ann's friend from tennessee bobby bare jr. he was nice, and his band was really good. cool voice. at one point bobby introduced "the horns of death," three guys playing horns in scream masks. i yelled "yeeeew" instead of "woooooh," with leigh ann's coaching. good times. i had to go get some pizza after that, having failed to eat dinner. yet another reason to love cmj: you can leave the club, go scarf a slice, and re-enter. rock and roll. we didn't stay for more than a couple songs of the waco brothers' set, because we've seen them before and we were tired. it was a semi-low-key night. but tonight we throw down, celebrating jami's 31 years on the planet with some steak eating and some more rock. kick it up a notch, if you will. bam!

boys explained.