on our last night in shanghai, after getting caught in a crazy thunderstorm while desperately searching for a particular print of a fake lesportsac weekender bag (oh the hilarity), we went to the top of a swanky bar where we could see the skyline all lit-up-like. and then we ducked out without ordering a drink and went to the times square area. neon is pretty! also, i love how the chinese like to hang their bananas.

::: M.I.A., "China Girl" (Diplo Mix) :::

the blog status ain't hood went and talked to craig finn about the littleton high school gig. i love this blog. does he always write for the village voice? it's the kind of writing that forces me to check out a record that's been languishing, unlistened-to, on my ipod: informative, interesting, and unpretentious. nah, he can't possibly write for the voice.

shanghai was so steamy, it was almost unbearable. we sweated our way down the inexplicably named riverfront "bund" area, through the twisty alleys of the old neighborhoods and the various pagoda-dotted areas dedicated to separating tourists from their money. i was amazed to learn they still build buildings using bamboo scaffolding, and they use it to make sure all their trees grow straight, too. in the three days we were there, we basically zoomed around in cabs (which all cost between one and two dollars) checking out cool boutiques and crazy markets, eating like kings, and not much more. shanghai is really cute and charming and cool. like new york to beijing's d.c., sorta. more pics tomorrow. i hope you're enjoying this mammoth recap because now that it's happening, i'm keeping it going to the end. so suck it up, peeps. maybe pop a squat and settle in. ganbei if you have to.

::: The Adicts, "Chinese Takeaway" :::

one of the places we went in shanghai was the dvd store. i purchased season 1 of "lost" and have become utterly addicted. i even woke up early this morning and watched an episode of it. do NOT talk to me about season 2 yet. i'll kill you. but can you believe this news that the hold steady are going to be "written into the script of a future episode"? the hold steady on "lost"!! if this actually happens, which let the record note i am not convinced of, this must mean they tour with driveshaft, pointed out a commenter on jen's site. this is just so weird. even weirder than the fact that the hold steady are playing littleton high school's seventh period. i'm so confused....

meanwhile, it is revealed that there are skeeball machines at ace bar! let's go!

china, day 3! are you sick of it yet? never enough pictures of the great wall! it was, in fact, great. i got on a camel, for one thing, a privilege for which i happily paid my twenty kwai ($2.50, a way better deal than the $8 i spent to get a picture of myself with a monkey in the dominican republic). leanne has video of the mounting, which i'm sure is hilarious and which i'm sure she'll release any day now. i hugged the hump, of course. other highlights of the wall, besides just being on the wall, were: a gaggle of chinese peeps running up to us and one by one excitedly taking pictures of me and leanne (blondes) while ignoring poor brunette betsy. they were wearing crazy makeup and hats; it was all a little bewildering. why are there so many pictures of us squatting, you ask? because that's what people do in china! they squat! and when in rome... (you know the rest). and then we toboganned down the mountain on a silver slide (perhaps the best part), and had our driver take us to a local chinese restaurant where we feasted for a grand total of like ten bucks. awesome.

::: Jerry Seinfeld, "Chinese People" :::

day two in china was purse lady, market, and fashion show. see, betsy has carved out a pretty impressive career for herself as a globetrotting fashion writer, and so she knows the best places to shop, and she knows all the fashion people. we started the day off at the secret purse lady, who moves her stash of high-quality counterfeit (and off-the-truck, i heard) designer bags to a different location every few months. but betsy is fully in the know, so we went to the appointed floor of a beijing high-rise and waited to be approved from the other side of the peephole. whisked inside, we were greeted with floor-to-ceiling shelves upon shelves of mulberry, chanel, tod's, prada, and (of course!) louis vuitton bags. as far as the eye could see! this was the first of two trips there. we all left empty-handed and unsure but vowed to (maybe) return.

but at the "dirt" market, we cleaned up. at least i did. unsure of my bargaining skills, i let betsy do most of the haggling. after all, she knows the mao watch should cost exactly twenty kwai, and no more. she's a master of the fake walk-away, and had many of the vendors chasing after her. i did some respectable bargaining with the communication aid of the seller's calculators, and ended up with all manner of giftage. and a desperately needed porcelain head of lettuce. hurrah!

later that night, we went to the lanvin fashion show, held outside of the national art museum of china. the clothes were all very pretty and cool, but not as pretty as the gorgeous dresses the models had been wearing the night before at the preparty. and the models, i mean, you'd think they could have slimmed down for the show. some real porkers they picked. anyway, apparently lots of designers are banking on china being a big luxury market. someone forgot to tell the hordes of great unwashed outside, not to mention the khaki-clad who managed to get in. and those are today's china tales. we'll pick it up back here tomorrow, same cat time, same cat channel. and finally, here is today's chinese-themed mp3:

::: New Model Army, "Chinese Whispers" ::: this is one of those well-regarded british postpunk bands i'm too wet behind the ears to have caught the first time around. they're now touring and playing mercury lounge saturday night.

could china have been anything other than awesome? i submit that it could not, with our hosts betsy and michael in charge of jampacking our itinerary so tight that we barely had time to be jetlagged. these are just pics from day one. in this one day we: saw a man helping his child pee into a garbage can on a subway platform; marched around tiananmen square; filed past mao's orange, glowing body after respectfully (sort of) placing cheap plastic flowers in a trough; trooped through the forbidden city while listening to roger moore intoning about "imperial solutions to everyday problems" on the audio tour; ascended to the highest point in beijing and marvelled at the view; got chinese massages; had delicious late-afternoon cocktails at an outdoor loungey bar; got dressed up for a swanky fashion party held in a beautiful garden; drank lots of champagne at said party; ate delicious vietnamese food; wandered around town looking for a party; engaged in in-depth conversations, with physical demonstrations, about the difference between the western squat and the asian squat; fondled giant squashes. and finally: went to bed. the saga will continue tomorrow. but before we go, the chinese-themed song of the day:

::: Devendra Banhart, "Chinese Children" ::: i am so totally on the devendra bandwagon, by the way.

i managed to squeeze in one cmj event before i jet off this afternoon to land of no vegetables and cheap knockoff handbags. even in my advanced age, i stayed up till 1 a.m., leaving jen to her very important studies of the backs of her eyelids (poor showing! poor!). luckily tricia mcd was ready to rock and rock we did, with two gallants at the retardedly designed cake shop. (i have mentioned the downward sloping floor before, but i have to say again: what drugs were these people on when they built it? the band is below see level!) two gallants rocked the shit out of that place. with two people and a harmonica. and the lead singer has the cutest little jean cuffs i have ever seen. they have a fine selection of songs available for your downloading pleasure. i can't wait for their next album to come out (on saddle creek) this fall.

and with that, i really need to go pack. see you on the 25th-ish.

first things first: i added an armload (ha!) of cuff bracelets to the pita shop. check 'em out.

friday night: jen was down for the count, but i went to the clap your hands/the national show anyway. here is my review: it was fine. they are both competent indie-rock bands who have one outstanding song. the rest of each of their catalogs just kind of blends together. there is no spark of greatness, for me. concert nirvana was not achieved. also, i realized that alec ounsworth from"the clap" (as the kids call them) is a pretty horrendous singer, especially when he gets all repetitive like on that new "satan" song (which i hated). he sounds like a wounded koala bear crying out for help. which is not to say that they don't have some catchy tunes, but between that voice and the sameyness of it all, i was unmoved. i was therefore very happy when i found FOPita conrad, and we had a highly enjoyable conversation about gbv between bands (more on that later). i stayed for the national, and so did most of the crowd. i thought they were okay. conrad pointed out that they are clearly highly influenced by the walkmen, and once he said that, it was obvious. down to the angsty stage moves and everything. i was glad i went, though, because it meant i could get to be a hater on the internet! who doesn't love that?!

other things i did this weekend were: shopped till i dropped (i really needed a large tote bag for carry-on purposes, see, and i really needed TWO of them, also), ate a delicious thanksgiving sandwich and pieces of brian's blackened catfish and grits and fried green tomatoes at union picnic (yum), and finally photographed and placed for sale on the shop a shitload of rock-show-bracelet leather cuffs (ahem).

i go to china on thursday! i cannot wait to say GANBEI!!

funny dick cheney video.

but this, this video you ABSOLUTELY must watch. i cried laughing. cat news. i have watched it 3x now. do it. do it now!

also, leanne milway claims that my mp3 files are "empty." please let me know in the comments if she is not actually bat-shit crazy and you are having the same issue. however i do believe the poor dear is a few chopsticks short of a pair, if you will.

and now: it's the weekend. later kids.

::: Liars, "We Got Cold, Coughed, and Forgot Things" ::: it sorta sounds like he's saying "lindsay lo, control!" and that makes me laugh.

kurt picked the wrong song for the billy idol edition of his 80s song of the week series. it should have been "dancing with myself," but hey. it's kurt. he can't be expected to have good taste in music. speaking of billy idol, i bet not everyone knew billy idol actually recently came out with a new album. one of the songs from it has been rocking the ipod at the gym, most recently as i watched in a brilliantly placed mirror as Handstand Pushup Man beat the living shit out of the punching bag. i mean my boyfriend (as i enjoy calling him in my head) sticks and moves, sticks and moves. he was not just hitting that punching bag -- he was FIGHTING it. and he won. anyway, i can't get enough of this song:

::: Billy Idol, "Sherry" :::

two great tastes, tasting great together. especially if you like watermelon: metallagher, a metallica cover band fronted by a gallagher impersonator. genius. thanks to brother paul for the link.

on a lighter note, the newly launched website of paper magazine has a story on gogol bordello frontman eugene hutz, who apparently DJs at the bulgarian nightclub.

::: Gogol Bordello, "Think Locally, Fuck Globally" ::: this is off their new album, "gypsy punks underdog world strike." accordions are SO punk.

funny car prank. the guy's face is priceless.

so there have been developments in the Handstand Pushup Man situation. if you recall, i became enamored of this chap at the gym who works out as if he is enclosed in a five-by-five solitary confinement cell. so wednesday night, i'm at the gym, about to fill up my water bottle from the fountain, and there is a disturbance in my peripheral vision. Handstand Pushup Man is gallantly attempting to allow me to go first, but because i began fumbling in my bag at the exact wrong moment, i don't notice until too late. and so Handstand Pushup Man gives up and gets his water. there is no eye contact, although it is fairly certain at this point that his eyes have now seen me, which i wasn't sure of before. later, i am dutifully pumping away on my evolved stairmaster machine, and Handstand Pushup Man is leaving. i brazenly watch him leave, swivelling my head around in the process. and as he gets to the door he actually turns back to look in my direction: score! or maybe he was just holding the door for the guy behind him. because he is a gentleman despite his gladiator-like exercises.

but the story is not over! because the next night, thursday night, after i had finished rocking out alongside adorable mom meryl streep at the bravo silva show, i espied Handstand Pushup Man at the mercury lounge! he was wearing a slightly suspect leather wrist cuff and a mastodon shirt. unfortunately we did not interface, but i was pleased with the situation anyway. allmusic tells me that mastodon plays "an innovative, hard-to-categorize blend of metal, grind, and hardcore," which means that he definitely does not ever listen to death cab for cutie, which is good. i saw him again today, and he definitely looked at my torso area, but still no eye contact. he was doing triceps dips with a 45-pound weight hanging from a huge metal chain encircling his waist. where does he come up with this stuff?? i might have to venture beyond my beloved cardio machines and step up my calisthenics game (you may provide any tips in the comments, which are going smashingly so far) if i'm to get a shot. developing! (i hope.)

i had a half day on friday and spent it in the 42nd street loew's. the constant gardener was decent but i think i'm supposed to like it a lot more than i actually did. four brothers was preposterous but reasonably entertaining, largely due to the presence of marky mark, who remains hot.