I jumped out that window a long time ago

Emma took this test and got the lovely and sophisticated Carole Lombard. What a delight. I would be envious, except ...

Your result for The Classic Dames Test...

Rosalind Russell (Ahhh! I didn't even know Rosalind Russell was an option. Oh, I could not be happier.)

You scored 12% grit, 62% wit, 14% flair, and 26% class!

You are one wise-cracking lady, always quick with a clever remark and easily able to keep up with the quips and puns that come along with the nutty situations you find yourself in. You're usually able to talk your way out of any jam, and even if you can't, you at least make it more interesting with your biting wit. You can match the smartest guy around line for line, and you've got an open mind that allows you to get what you want, even if you don't recognize it at first. Your leading men include Cary Grant and Clark Gable, men who can keep up with you.

Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the
Classic Leading Man Test.

Take The Classic Dames Test at HelloQuizzy

we were on and off, on and off, on and off again

Things that are true:

Kim should come back like right away.

I have "Baby Doll" from "Tapeheads" stuck in my head.

Wreckless Eric is a great show to see.

Cold turkey is the only way to quit longhaired musicians with glasses. Now I only like dentists with perfect eyesight.

I am way too tired to make paragraphs.

Me and Mandy Moore will probably become best friends this week.

Crab cakes need to be more readily available.

The New York Islanders (ughh) do not deserve Thomas Pock.

"Kim fun" sometimes sounds like Kam Fung.

My deep dark tan still seems to have gotten deeper and darker over the weekend.

The greatest bracelet ever is now mine.

The FreeCreditReport.com commercials are the worst. ever.

I forgot to make Kim watch the reggaeton IO commercial. (Watch it!)

I forgot to take Kim to Pio Pio.

Pio pio is really fun to say.

Probably a great song for me to sing is "Surrender" by Trixter, mostly because "Give It to Me Good" sounds too dirty.

Dollie never thought of making me an intervention.

on and off again

This was a good weekend for shows, two of my all-time favorites in two days.

Friday there was Mike Viola, the second of his four Joe's Pub shows, third of six shows of his I will see this fall. (Yes, we're going to Boston for the Candy Butchers bonanza). And then Saturday was James. Ohhh James. It had been too long, and an abbreviated (and pricey) set at Radio City wasn't going to be enough for me so we hit the road and headed to The Stone Pony — P.S. why hasn't anyone told me how insanely like this would be going to a show on my very own Shore Front Parkway? — for the real thing.

Mike Viola was great. James brought the house down. I am a lucky girl.

And I am left with a question: Which of these new lyrics is the greatest?

There was a snake in a shrub/ She had a rub on tan (Mike Viola's "Chemical Night" - co-written by daughter Isabel)

Too old for Hamlet, too young for Lear (James' "Whiteboy").

Tough call, right?

three hams will thrill him

I went to Minneapolis! I had fun with my favorite people! I watched great TV shows! I went to parties! I did not go into a hot tub and faint, but I DID go to the fair, meet a chicken and try amazing and scary foods!

What I Tasted at the State Fair, by Jane

• Pickle Dog
• Pronto Pup (with mustard)
• Big Fat Bacon
• Nutella and marshmallow crepe
• Culligan water
• Wild Cherry Pepsi
• Cheese Curds
• Fudge Puppy
  
• Frozen Cider
• Roasted Corn on the Cob
  
• Spam Curds
• Pig Lickers
• Michelob Amber Bock
• Cream Puff
• Leinenkugel Light
• Perfect Pickle
  
• Bull Bites

I have water, I have rum

On Thursday night, I saw R.E.M. And while I have to say I was oddly disappointed to not hear "Underneath the Bunker" (have they ever played this live? My guess is "no"), it was a wonderful show. I can't imagine a better first time. Sloan was playing the same night, at the same time, at the other end of town. So we hurried out of The Garden after the last note and got to the Bowery Ballroom just in time to catch the last 45 seconds of Sloan's set. Does this count toward our quest to never miss an NYC Sloan show in 11 years? Probably not. The next night, Sloan played again. I danced and drank and sang and fought enough for two nights, easily. I had another wonderful time despite the efforts of that moron in the Brooklyn shirt ("But my ex-girlfriend used to go out with Chris!" Uh, why would that mean I'd let you cut in front of me?) and the-funny-only-to-Chris-Murphy "Skip Lowe". Yikes. Still, the fun never stopped.

Now we're in a bit of a show drought. Sure, there's Jarvis, but not until July 21. Then there is George Michael, on the 23rd, followed by Dead or Alive on the 26th. But what do we do until then?

Quest for Fire, I am looking to you. According to your MySpace page, early July is pretty quiet. Why not come to NYC and take advantage of the weak American dollar? It's the right thing to do.

Here's their video for "I've Been Trying to Leave." Clearly the subtitle should be (Toronto, and Go Play in New York).

another hit I'll take on the chin

Sloan's new album, Parallel Play, came out yesterday. My pre-ordered copy is somewhere in the mail, but Yep Roc is nice and lets you download it as well as having a hard copy.

This morning, after spilling my coffee on my light blueish green shirt ("I'd call that seafoam," said a co-worker who shouldn't say things like "seafoam"), on my long, hot walk to the train, I listened to the album for the second time - first on headphones.

I wasn't going to be easy to please after this terrible coffee-spilling start to the day (and after being bitterly disappointed in Never Hear the End of It), but I clearly and officially really like this record. I have a couple of favorites right now, but I share with you "The Dogs." It's the longest and maybe the best.

Sloan are on tour now. I will see them next Friday (not Thursday. I have REM on Thursday), and I think you should too.

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don't worry about your future

This morning, on the way to work (sipping on an ICED coffee -- thank you so much, Daniela, for asking) I was listening to the previously discussed "Lovely Allen" and realized that I love it because it reminds me of Thrush Hermit's glorious "Patriot." The videos are quite different, I think you'll find, but I can't hold that against Holy Fuck. No one can come close to "Patriot."

In other news, Dollie and I spent about 50% of the day on the train yesterday, which was a wise plan as the train was cold. One of our journeys took us to BAM to see "Reprise," and wow, was that great. I give it five stars. You should see it and love it, for you will, plus then we can discuss Kommune. It's simply too good to spoil.

I know you seen me on the video

I have a strange relationship with music videos. I loved them, mainly. At first, they were a novelty to be enjoyed late on Friday nights or whenever I was visiting Long Island. Once we had cable, I began consuming music videos the way I had previously consumed books, constantly, passionately, voraciously. I still remember the first time I saw "Pictures of You," "Lies" (oh, "Lies"!), even "Underwhelmed" (how is this video nowhere online?).

Then music videos became harder to find. And I started in on a job where my daily (and most wonderful) task included reading comments from people who were very disappointed by the lack of music programming on a music channel. Hey, I understood. They weren't sending their comments to the right place, but if they were looking for a sympathetic ear, they found it.

During that seven-year tenure, music videos became increasingly easy to find. There were the nonstop videos on VH1 Classic, for one (of course they have since given up on videos almost entirely) and the whole watching-videos-online thing, which I just cannot fully embrace. I like the convenience, sure, but I have a really big, really nice TV that I'd rather be watching. On it, I view episodes of "Subterranean," usually a few at a time. I put watching off because it feels like homework, because I hate almost everything played. Seriously, mediocre songs, hideously ugly hipsters, bad animation -- this is not where music videos should have gone.

Tonight, while watching last week's "Subterranean," I saw a video that did it all right. The song is great, for one. The video is performance based, and the people look really into making music. (Hallelujah.) There are no lingering closeups of unattractive people or bad attempts at artistic filmmaking. It's a bunch of people (Holy Fuck, specifically) playing a song ("Lovely Allen," to be precise). And the director, Drew Lightfoot, is a genius, for he totally focuses at any given moment on exactly the instrument you want to see being manipulated right then.

I'd give this six stars if I did such things, but I don't. Instead, it gets five glorious stars. I will put the video here, but it's better on my big TV, for sure.

I didn't see it, I can't believe it

I just had the most wonderful idea, but I've already talked myself out of it.

While reading Popbitch, I noted a fantastic acronym: IDNSHC. I have read it before and enjoyed it before. (For the uninitiated, it generally pops up in "Stood next to ___ at the urinal" posts. You can figure it out.) Today, for some reason, I fell deeply in love with IDNSHC and wanted it to be a part of my life. It has a wonderful HRH and/or esquire sort of air about it, so I decided it would be wonderful to use it with the name of anyone to whom it applied. Now, of course, that would mean I'd spend the next few months IDNSHC-ing pretty much every name ever mentioned in this site, but it would be worth it.

My fear, and the reason I've abandoned this plan, is that one day, I may forget a needed IDNSHC and scandalize myself and others. So, yeah. I'm pretty broken up about this lost affectation. Please that I may use it just this once: Have you seen this story about Sean Avery, IDNSHC? I am living for his concept of what fashion should be.

just for today, let go and slide away

Every once in a while (more like every couple of years) I meet up with people I used to know and still sort of know, in the following-along-online way. Today was one such day.

There's the standard "What have you been up to?"/"Eh, the same. How about you?" exchange, generally. But this time was a bit more interesting. Me and Dollie, we've got a song. (You have heard this, right?) One other guy makes a living trying to figure out if someone urinating into another's orifices will transmit a crystal meth high. And then there's our movie-star peer.

Of course, I have seen this already and knew about it even before that, but I didn't really know how to show you. But I found out. Say Aloha to Aloha. (The magic starts one minute in. Embedding disabled by request, sadly. You must click here to see.)

In other news, I've been listening to Quest For Fire (featuring two Deadly Snakes) since I belatedly learned that they exist (oops!). So yeah, I like what I have heard so far and look forward to hearing more. That will happen in July, on The Storyboard Label, from what I understand. Hopefully they will play in New York soon thereafter.

Anyway, in the meantime, you will have to hear it on MySpace like I do. It's apparently being saddled with some sort of stoner-rock label, but I don't know much about that. To me it sounds like make-out music, you know, music boys play when they invite you over. The way I hear it, "Hawk That Hunts the Walking" exists in the same spirit as Verve's "Slide Away," which is an enormous compliment (seriously, why don't The Verve play that live anymore?) and means it's a total make-out song.

So yeah, crank up the computer and get busy!


PS I hate to see people lose, but dang, Sidney Crosby is one ugly bastard.

PPS I totally have a crush on Mike Babcock.

I know you feel let down

There's a dog barking behind one of the houses. I like to think it is because I am singing this song out loud in my kitchen with the windows open and the little guy is singing along. Probably not though.

Anyway, I am going to keep singing it, because I got out of work on time which means I am alone in the house for a bit. Until I go off the deep end and start singing out loud on the subway, or magically become a decent enough singer that I will sing in the house in front of people, this is one of my few chances to go for it. Singing is good for the soul, you know.

Singing this (Long Way by The General Store) is excellent for the soul. Tam (and Lola, of course), I thank you for bringing this into my life lo many years ago.

Speaking of many years, today is 12 since I met Dollie. Whoa.

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you're an angel to me

Um, remember that whole re-crushing thing? Yeah. So it turns out, after watching Johnny Depp accept his MTV Movie Award, I've regressed further into re-crush territory. Clearly, I've never been righter than I was in 1987. Holy smokes.

seductive in small doses

Sometime last week or the week before, I got re-crushed on someone. Re-crushed is bad, worse than newly-crushed. With newly-crushed, there's a lot of learning to do, things to watch for, things to look up.

With re-crushed, there is all of that, plus all of the stuff I'd originally experienced/written/talked about to re-explore. In other words, I've been trolling my old online diaries and annoying the heck out of my friends by making them flesh out my remembrances.

It's bad, but it isn't on purpose. Something in my brain chemistry does this to me. I don't mean it. It's a sickness, for serious.

No one understands the disease quite like the Trash Can Sinatras, who have given us a completely exhilarating song about it -- good luck not getting caught up in it.

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I love this song the way I love the people I get re-crushed on. "Hayfever" takes me over, "Drowners"-style. The crush takes me over, "Drowners"-style. By the time the song is over, you (well, I) believe you've been on the best ride ever that was just short enough to leave you feeling cheated. I don't think I've ever listened to it just once. Repeat! I can't remember why my last crush on this boy ended (someone else moved in, I'd guess), but once clearly wasn't enough. Repeat!

If you really want to enjoy the song, don't dig too deep. It's pretty dark. Poor Harry. He's creepy, yeah, but oh can I relate. [Wo]men, germs, why can't a couple of tablets take care of both? I think Harry might be a maniacal stalker (at least in the lyrics I am finding online ... many of which I never knew or would have guessed) but I understand much of his ailment.

I also must note that the first time I heard this song it was featured on a Details magazine giveaway CD. I am old.

shut it up now

Poor Dollie. Oh, you have no idea what she's had to listen to for the past two weeks. It's about a boy, of course. It almost always is. I only talk about two things, work and a boy, not always the same boy, but generally only one at a time. At least this boy is pretty great, so that's helpful. The thing is, he really likes talking and listening, so in a perfect world, I could talk to him about him and he'd probably never get annoyed, but we don't live in a perfect world, do we? No. And poor Dollie has to pay.

waiting for tonight ... whoaaaaoaahahoaoahooo!

Here is the story of tonight (please read it as a very bad limerick):

There once was a girl named Jane
Who loves the Rangers and everyone said they would lose
So she screamed and she screamed
And they played really great
And Henrik got a shutout and Jagr was awesome and then she went and drank too many snakebites and now reheated an old eggroll and will go to bed in her Avery Rules t-shirt.

The end ... ?

PS For the first time, Gardenvision showed TWO of my text messages!
PPS Definitely for serious, I name my first born child that is a boy Sean Avery. Internal bleeding will do that to a girl.

honestly I don't remember who you are

Here's what happened:


Hockey. We win, we lose, it runs my life. PS Have you met Fredrik Sjostrom?

<--

I mean, really. Whoa, right? Today hockey isn't looking great, but we will still win the Stanley Cup and I will still get my tattoo.

In other news, everything else is difficult and making me miserable, including the fact that my annual (see 2007 and 2006) so so so wrong obsession with a so so so wrong man has come around, and he's pulling a "CSI: Miami" this year. I can laugh about it now, but that doesn't make it OK.

Hmm, what else? Finally, after getting my hands on the book years late (and then choosing to put it on the backburner and avoid reading it right after my poor Nipsey went to heaven), I am reading "The Year of Magical Thinking." Which is great because I can't even listen to "11:11" without crying (believe me, I have tried!), clearly a book about death is just what I need during these fragile (for some reason) days. But what Joan Didion does (what she always does) is make me itch to write my book. So I have been, a tiny bit. A very tiny bit. I came home last night after an unsettling outing with El Fano (the movie was disturbing, not the company) and wrote two small parts. I think I only have about 1,200 other parts to go. Hooray!

In these uncertain times, a good song to listen to is "Second Chance," by Liam Finn, because it feels like a shot of adrenaline, mostly when it gets to the "you stand around your haunted home" mark. I love it right now, and I hope you like it too.

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third-period conversations

Me: I can't believe I didn't win a Peabody again.
DB: Yeah, I noticed that.
Me: Another year, another missed Peabody.
DB: I could give you a Peabody.
Me: Really?
DB: Sure. I could pee on your body.
Me: Eew! No.
DB: Although it's PEAbody, like peas. I guess I could put peas on your body. Frozen peas. But you could really do that yourself.

...

DB: Ohhhh. Why is [hockey player] so foxy?
Me: He's very dirty. I learned that the hard way.
DB: What did you hear?
Me: Nothing. But I told you, I had that dirty dream of him.
DB: Did he give you a Peebody?
Me: No! Yuck.
DB: That's my joke of the day.

...

DB: I think People should do the 50 Biggest Butts list. I bet there would be at least forty hockey players on it. They'd probably be more likely to do the 50 Most Fabulous Butts. But I'd rather see Biggest Butts. Although Michael Moore might be on it. Who else? J.Lo, though her butt isn't even that big anymore. Kim Kardashian. Who is known for having a big butt? The lady who's always on the cover of King magazine. Let's say there's 10. So the rest are hockey players.

...

And ... we're in the playoffs! This will only get worse.

separate the girls from the boys

I was separated from the boys today at work. So, of course, I have taken to singing "North Dakota." Not because it's as dramatic as all that, but how many opportunities do I get to bust this one out (alone, in my own house.)

If you know, then you know. And if you don't, I'm here to help. (Click play, it will change you. And you could use a little change.)

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OK, everybody: Oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh oooh ooooh oooooh ....

If you're having a bad day, I highly recommend singing this song at top volume for an hour. It's totally working for me. Of course, it helps if you already know the song and are also drinking beer. It's even more fun to sing it at top volume in a booth at Flannery's (or at least it was, 10 years ago) while drinking beer, but I take what I can get these days.

Now, it's drinking a 24-oz Corona out of goblet (I am a classy lady) and pumping the Hermit on iTunes while putting off watching "American Idol." I am also trying to buy myself some stuff at Sephora (honestly, that Black Honey collection was made for me!) to blank the pain away, but the site is being a butt.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's the singing that's really cheering me up. Also of note, I typed "Dakota" into the search, so I get to sing "North Dakota" and the Stereophonics' "Dakota." It's like a dream, really. I bet you wish you were here.

has anyone ever written anything for you

!!!!

let's burn up the night

Have I mentioned how much I love "Cheaters"? OK, so I love "Cheaters." My stepfather, whose TV watching is mainly limited to sports, "Law & Order" reruns, "Cops" and the Lifetime Movie Network (yeah, we can't figure that one out either) introduced me to it, and I've been hooked since.

Did you see that "Fashionable People" by the Joel Plaskett Emergency was the #1 featured video on YouTube? Because that pretty much completely blew my mind. Also, it inspired what is probably my second favorite Joel quote ever: "He's like the opposite of Samson--he had to cut his hair to BECOME awesome in his power! If that crap doesn't make him a million dollars in pussy, nothing will." Oh Shanno, I miss you so. [Top favorite Joel quote, also from Shanno: "Iron deficiency man"]

Canadian Music Week is happening now, but I am not in Canada. Remember the fun we used to have at CMW? Remember the fun we used to have full stop? It it time for a return to fun. I demand it. The fun starts now. Or soon. This weekend, let's say. I need some time to prepare. Plus I have a lot of "Cheaters" on the DVR, and we're at 98% capacity.

good ideas do not fall out of thin air

Mike Viola is moving. He's off to Los Angeles in a couple of weeks, for a good long while, I'd imagine. (He does have a little girl and all. You don't want to uproot a kid a couple of times a year.)

I warned Dollie that she wasn't allowed to cry at Friday's farewell show, but I started myself during the second verse of like the third song. And then I stopped. And then I started again like 10 other times.

So this was supposed to be the post where I talk about the huge role Mike Viola's music has played in my life, how we've probably seen him live more than 100 times over the past 11 years, how he came to our house and sang "I Want It That Way" to a Ewan McGregor pillow (on camera!), how he's the first thing that Dollie and I discovered and adopted together, and probably one of the bigger reasons that Jane and Dollie became jane&dollie®

But then ... Mike said they'd be back for another run of shows in the fall. So when we said goodnight, I didn't cry. Six or seven months? I can handle six or seven months.

In the meantime, enjoy this. And keep September-November clear.

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get out of town and forever be free

I have a monster crush, which means that I am feeling a little in love right now (or a lot in like, at least) — in that fun one-sided way that I enjoy. When I feel this way, it makes everything sound a little better and more romantic, including songs.

And so I present "Forever For Her (Is Over For Me), which may be some old last-ditch effort by Jack White to get Renee Zellweger back (Is that true? I feel like I read it somewhere once), but more than that, it's totally a super-dreamy love song that I have certainly not been skipping on my iPod lately.

I'm not completely sold on The White Stripes and I'm really not a fan of this album, but honestly, "Everybody's reaction is changing you/ But their love is only a fraction of what I can give to you" is like over the moon stuff, people.

Perhaps it is sad story that I find nothing more romantic than a plea to run away together, but come on, that's romantic! I'd probably go anywhere with a person if he wrote me this song. Wouldn't you?

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chock full of expectations

So sometime last week — Monday, I think — I finally got around to visiting Mike Viola's web site, which I don't do daily. Turns out he posted on 2/14 that this Joe's Pub party was a send-off ("I'm waving goodbye, you think I'm waving hello"). He's moving his family to Los Angeles.

While we wish them happiness, fun and amazing success in L.A., it's a huge downer to lose them, especially after getting to see him play all these weeks in a row. It's been 11 years that we've been following Mike Viola's career, and back in the beginning, he played out all the time with the Candy Butchers. We'd see them once a week at a minimum. What a delight.

Anyway, here's a Mike Viola song about everything ever. It's not a great example of his similarities to Marshall Crenshaw (see last week's post), but it's a great example of his greatness, in that it's totally live, very simple and completely devastating. He isn't even showing off what a great singer and guitar player he is on this one. There are probably 10 MV songs on my 100 Greatest Songs of All Time list, but this is way up there.

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Also, if you are keeping track, I got a crazy bad crush on someone at the show (not Mike Viola, obviously). If you want to know more, find me and ask about it. Poor Dollie and Kim would certainly like a break from hearing about him. He is dreamy, though.

karate school!

Finally, YouTube comes through. I was doing a little game-show research and stumbled upon this, which is a longstanding favorite of mine. You will love it.

like The McLaughlin Group Awards, only different

What did you do in 2007 that you’d never done before? Handed in a letter of resignation, met a New York Ranger. Surely some other things as well.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't remember them. I always resolve to be better, so I'm guessing that I kept it in some ways and didn't in many others.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.

Did anyone close to you die? No.

What countries did you visit? Not even Canada.

What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007? A new apartment. Other things.

What date from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory? July 9.

What was your biggest achievement of the year? Walking away from an abusive relationship with my job.

What was your biggest failure? Falling into the same patterns in a new place.

Did you suffer illness or injury? Nothing requiring serious medical attention.

What was the best thing you bought? My heathered blue Gap European collection dress.

Whose behaviour merited celebration? Everyone I love, pretty much.

Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed? Why give it any more airtime?

Where did most of your money go? Rent, cable, Metrocards. What a thrilling existence!

What did you get really, really, really excited about? Hockey. Flight of the Conchords. "Big Brother" (wow, that is sad).

What song/album will always remind you of 2007? There aren't too many songs that have time-sensitive memories linked to them -- this wasn't the year that I played "___" all (summer/winter). But I have a very vivid '07 memory tied to "On Call" by Kings of Leon, so let's go with that.

Compared to this time last year, are you: Happier or sadder? happier
Thinner or fatter? fatter
Richer or poorer? poorer

What do you wish you’d done more of? Celebrating.

What do you wish you’d done less of? Worrying.

How will you be spending/did you spend Christmas? With my family, like always.

Who did you spend the most time on the phone with? My mom.

Did you fall in love in 2007? The acceptable answer is "No." But I'm going with "I don't know." I am unacceptable.

How many one night stands in this last year? Zero.

What was your favourite TV programme? "Flight of the Conchords."

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? I have no valid reason to hate.

What was the best book(s) you read? "All Souls." I'm a bit behind.

What was your greatest musical discovery? That my mind can change a lot. Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Good Charlotte and a dude from The Strokes all put out some music that I actually enjoyed.

What did you want and get? A job at Madison Square Garden.

What did you want and not get? There's still a week to find out. I live in hope.

What were your favourite films of this year? "Lars and the Real Girl." "Once." "The Darjeeling Limited."

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? That actual day, I went to dinner with Dollie. The weekend after, I had dinner with Dollie and a whole bunch of other friends -- two of them traveled a billion miles to be there. I was (and am) 32.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? More money. More time off. Fewer infestations.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007? Short Dress, Black Tights

What kept you sane? Friends, family, hockey, sleep.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Jemaine!

What political issue stirred you the most? Stirred: The crappy lineup of talent out front in the presidential race. I am unimpressed. Shaken, on the other hand: Just about everything else.

Who did you miss? Kim. Some people at MTV. Some people who aren't alive.

Who was the best new person you met? I met a lot of new good people, so I can't say. It may hurt the others' feelings. But he/she knows, I think.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007.
If you gotta go, go now. Or else you gotta stay all night.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
"You have suffered enough/ And warred with yourself/ It's time that you won."

can't stop it, won't stop it

Jennifer Lopez, I adore you.

I love your dress

OK, so the hockey game SUCKED (I blame myself; clearly wires were crossed and Matt Cullen and his teammates made off with my good wishes and luck) — but there was a big Theory sale, and Dollie went and picked me up this great perfect dress. It is my first Theory dress! And it is great, perfect and great. Hooray!

no one else can feel it for you

I love winning. And we won! Even though I wasn't there. Finally. Nice one, boys.

Also, this is so wonderful. But then again, it could just be that I love James Franco. And the name Justin Bobby.

shake the disease

I'm feeling better, a lot better, but still really awful. So I did what anyone in my position (two blocks away from Macy's) would do. I went to Henrik to be healed. Am I healed? Not so far. But I did get to look at him in person and stand right in front of him for a full 20 seconds and even talk to him a little. Plus I got a signed puck.

He's totally all gorgeous in person, in case you were wondering.

happy thanksgiving

Dinner for eight was a success, but I am so tired.

go-oh-ohhhhl!

Yay Colton Orr! I know it's not his Thanksgiving, but he came across with something to make me say thanks. Oh, I love to win. And I love when the win comes from an unexpected source.

you made me feel so bluuuuue!

I did this, and I keep looking at it and I can't stop laughing. I am my own favorite comic genius! Also, quite handy with the paintbrush. Look out, Perez!

like icing on the cake

You know when you're having one of those weeks, where you're working a billion hours and not sleeping nearly enough and finding at the end of the day that you have maybe one or two things you've done that you're happy with and about (if you are lucky — I am)? How do you get through those weeks? Me, I have the New York Rangers. (And this week, the "I'm a citizen" guy). But you probably don't.

So tell me, what small victories and simple pleasures make your life worth living? I'm curious. After all, eventually it will be June and hockey will be all done. And it's not like I'm going to run into the "I'm a citizen" guy in the street. Besides tonight, I mean.

what'd you call me?

Puppethead. Tang Teeth. Anti. The Extra Inch Guy. Just when you think we'd reached the peak of nicknaming genius, there's Falp. Of course that is an in-joke that cannot be explained right now, but trust that it is fantastic.

I'm a citizen, think she loves again

Dollie is laughing at me because I am happy, giddily recounting my day at work. It was good! It was 13 hours long, but I loved every min— well, let's not get carried away. But I loved enough of it to leave smiling and still be smiling now. Most of the good stuff happened well after 6PM, but that's how it goes sometimes. I even laughed, like 50 times. 5 stars.

you're gonna meet me

(that's Sam Rosen, Dave Maloney, Ryan Hollweg and Sean Avery.)



Today I went to a Rangers season subscriber event, and Sean Avery had to leave early because he had to meet a girl's parents for the first time. Ha! Which girl? What parents? Page Six better have the goods. Anyway, I found that hilarious. The whole thing was all so delightful and wonderful. I left it thinking, "I love my team and want to be best friends with Sean Avery." The end.

Professor Pickles!

I am way too cold and tired to do this today, so I will leave you with this gorgeous 4 minutes of genius:

fake headlines, believe them

Oh, if only this were happening. (You know it was inspired by that episode of "Inside the Rangers" I was telling you about. He looks just beautiful in it.)


Rangers' Orr Could Be The Bachelor?

How fantastic and hilarious would it be, though, seriously? Especially since he has a girlfriend and is not interested! Did I mention that it would be one hour a week of Colton Orr?! I'm starting a petition.

Dear Colton Orr's lovely girlfriend, You're in show business — get on with the show! You know these "Bachelor" fauxmances never last. What does it take, two weeks to film? Then he's back with you forever. Think of my entertainment. Please.

I can dish it out, but I can't take it

November has become a strange month for me. Two years ago in November, I went on a weekend trip to Florida to visit my grandfather, for what would be our final days together. He was really sick. While my Dad and I were there, we kind of knew it would be the last time. Of course we hoped it wouldn't, and we believed it wouldn't, but we knew it could be.

Last November, when I often flashed back to those last days, it wasn't surprising. It was a big deal (certainly the first time I spent with someone while knowing it was very possible that it would be the last), and it was only a year away. And I'm prone to flashing back on moments, not memories, really, just strange still images of places and feelings. Like a weirdo. But yeah, I'm having it again this year. Maybe I'll have it forever. Who can say? It's not disturbing or unpleasant. It's just kind of strange. Perhaps in a good way.

What this has to do with the following song is debatable. On one hand, nothing at all. But on the other, this album defined last winter for me, and that must count for something. It's everything that I love in a song. I should probably now explain how my favorite songs are either 2 minute perfect pop songs or 7 minute tempo-change epics, but you get the idea. Here's Limousine, from Brand New, which is apparently inspired by a true story of a horrible drunk driving death but is also about 900 other things as far as I can tell. It's glorious — tragic and soaring and heartbreaking and beautiful and so so so November.

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what have I done to deserve this?

I have had "Lisa Lisa" stuck in my head all day. Not Lisa Lisa, but "Lisa Lisa". Oh no oh no oh.

In better news: Hey, did you know they had Inbreds videos? Me neither! I love the Internets.

back here where we need you

Sean Avery returned to the ice tonight. We won, but the big story is the return of his great big mouth. There was a whole lot of on ice action (seriously, can't they come up with an adults-only broadcast where everyone is mic-ed?), and then this:

Sean Avery was asked how exactly Marty Brodeur responds when he’s in his face the whole game. “His accent’s too thick. I can’t understand him.” Avery also referred to David Clarkson as a “boneheaded minor leaguer.” Good to have Avery back to fill up our notebook. (Rangers Report)

There's a picture of Avery and Brendan Shanahan, when you first walk in at The Garden, and they're on the bench, both smiling and looking down. And it might remind you of me and Dollie, where Dollie's Sean Avery and I am Shanny, for a number of reasons. I think that still holds true, but when it comes to Brodeur, me and Avery are of one mind. I love it.

guess how much

Do you watch half-hour infomercials for Time-Life music collections? Because I do. They are my favorite programming. I'm a big fan of "Malt Shop Memories," and just tonight I discovered "Soft Rock" starring Air Supply. These small delights are what I live for, honestly. Also, on this genius 30 minutes of television I discovered that there is a video for Benny Mardones' "Into the Night," but I cannot find it on YouTube. If you have it, please share. Especially if you can get it to me by early December.

I want to be haunted

I admit it: I totally thought it was Luis Guzman, not Rick Aviles in "Ghost." And I've hated him ever since.

Also, if you like the New York Rangers, or even just hockey — or, in all honesty, even just men — you really really REALLY might want to watch this week's "Inside the Rangers". It will change your life.

I miss my funky friends

I had my birthday party on Saturday, and some very special people made the trip all the way from Minneapolis. They are at JFK now, and I miss them already.

Anyway, many wonderful friends from near and far attended the celebration, which was held at my favorite restaurant. The proprietors were nice enough to let me play a DVD, so I made a mix (which took all day Saturday to make). I found one of my favorite bits on YouTube, for your viewing pleasure. I find it to be a timeless delight. Enjoy!

you don't bring me flowers anymore

Soon it is my birthday, my birthday, my birthday. Soon it is my birthday, a birthday for me.

(You were supposed to sing that part.)

Why am I so happy excited for my birthday? Well, I have to be happy excited for something, it is my only joy. And since everything else is either boring or a giant suck, I will be all about the birthday.

Speaking of me and my birthday, if we were BFFs and you were going to buy me a wonderfully extravagant present, what would it be?

there was time to kill

Next Rangers game (that I have tickets to): 142 hours

My birthday: 16 days (yes, even at my advanced age, I still live for my birthday)

"Flight of the Conchords" on DVD: 30 days

Surely there are other great things to be excited for and look forward to, but I can't think of them right now. Instead, enjoy this totally weird video for "Countdown," by Pulp. And wonder how it is that I have never seen it before. Speaking of weird Pulp videos, I really need to dig up my 12-year-old mashup video for "97 Lovers." I wouldn't hold my breath for that to actually happen.

good things are fantastic

In the interest of improving your life with my inane thoughts, I've decided to post far too frequently for as long as I can keep it up. Because why not?

In that vein, I don't believe that I have introduced my star system of grading. It's quite simple, like all great things. Things that are great (a la — and including — Alec Baldwin's Tony Bennett) get five stars. All other things get zero stars.

Two examples from this morning:

• My Black Ice Chai (it's a chai latte, with shots of espresso, from this lovely local cafe) gets five stars.
• Dollie also gets five stars for trekking there to get it, and waking me up at 9:40 to drink it (oh, I will miss this luxury!)
• On the other hand, El Fano's news that he can't go shopping with us on Saturday because he has to help his office move (seriously, how CHEAP ARE THESE MOTHERF-ERS!) gets zero stars.

Get it? Got it? Good.

my dick need no introduction

Have I mentioned my obsession with "Big Brother"? Well, I am obsessed with "Big Brother," more this season than any other (mainly due to my free time, I'd imagine), and tonight, my favorite player won! (Well, my favorite player after pretty Nick left.) Hooray!

our love goes under the knife

Idolator tells me that Charlotte Gainsbourg had surgery for a brain hemorrhage today. This reminds me that I should show you "The Operation," in case you've missed it.

Is that incredibly tasteless? Probably. It isn't meant to be. It's just that reading news about her reminded me that I have neglected to note that I love her — her songs, her hair (obviously), her face, her way. Jarvis Cocker wrote almost every song on 5:55 (Air and Neil Hannon worked on it too). That helps explain why I like it so much, but I like it more than Jarvis' solo album, so clearly Charlotte herself is a big part of the greatness. Anyway, here's "The Operation." Love it.

just another day

On Monday, I asked Dollie, "Whoa, are the VMAs this weekend?"

They are. September 9. Sunday. It's a date that would be chiseled into my brain, leaving permanent damage, a day that would be my only focus had I not done something crazy on May 9. (That'd be announcing my resignation, for those of you who missed the memo.)

For real, MTV, I watch "The Hills," "The Real World," "Newport Harbor" and the odd "Engaged & Underage" — if I worked there until July, continue to watch the channel AND STILL don't know when the VMAs are, the promos are lacking.

But anyway, I'm free on Sunday night!

2000. 2001. 2002. 2003. 2004. 2005. 2006 — I know where I was (1515, 770, home in front of the computer) and what I was doing (working hard, crying, laughing, yelling).

For the first time in a very long time, I will enjoy the show (I think. I'm not even sure who's performing or who's up for prizes) as a spectator. And I'm having a party.

'sofa king hot'

It's the first day back at work after a lovely long weekend for many, and if you need a boost, I recommend, as ever, Crunk + Disorderly.

Fresh had me laughing out loud twice in a row just now, due to her assessment of Richard Williams' dangerously "hot steps" and the "I vote Lloyd Banks"/"I still have every intention of backing Kenny Chesney" rip on 50 Cent. The woman is a genius.

please leave those poor sick monkeys alone

I love "Flight of the Conchords," the HBO show. And I love Flight of the Conchords, the act — though it took creating a sitcom around the songs for me to truly appreciate lines like "They're turning kids into slaves just to make cheaper sneakers/ But what's the real cost 'cause the sneakers don't seem that much cheaper" (Love it for yourself!)

Bret and Jemaine are both lovely and amazing, but I am crazy about only one. The funny thing is that everyone I know has been able to guess which one. I am afraid to ask why.

It is Jemaine ("of course," you may be saying, if you know me.)

And here is a picture of him laughing and wearing a magnificent shirt.

It looks like it is from a party. I wasn't at that party. Instead I took the photo from Jemaine.com.

What is the point of all of this? Well, none really. Except the last episode of the show is on in about 15 minutes, and I'm already sad that it's all over (until next year). Yes, I've already watched the first 11 episodes several times each. If you have another suggestion to ease my wonderful pain (while I wait for "Eagle Vs. Shark" to either return to NY or hit DVD), I'm all ears.

you'd better start warming up

Should I move to Minnesota?

It's not like I have a job here. And my friends keep leaving NY — and one of my #1 favorite people of all time ever already lives in MN. Plus Minneapolis is super fun.

But these things have been true before and I haven't left. Now, though, I am beginning to see a pattern.

Exhibit A:

My longtime pretend love, Josh Hartnett. He's from St. Paul.

Exhibit B:

My most recent heartbreak, "Big Brother" Nick is another Minnesotan (PS Did you notice how he wore a St. Cloud State shirt on "The Early Show" after he was evicted?)

And that matters because it's the alma mater of ...

The great Exhibit C:
(Click him. He talks!)

I may never get over his leaving me* (*OK, not me, but me) but maybe if I lived nearer to his home, it would ease the pain.

Or, you know, I could find my very own Minnesota dream boy. That may also work.

don't worry about your future, just call in the patriot

In case you haven't already (and surely many of you haven't already) enjoyed this, please enjoy it now. It's my favorite anything ever, and that endorsement should be enough, frankly.

You may not laugh and cry (though I sure did), but you will never be the same.

I present Thrush Hermit's "Patriot."

here at my nightmare's end

It's amazing how a new haircut (Julie, I continue to worship you - by the way, I'm willing to share: She's at Deluxe in Williamsburg, and not only is she extremely talented and an absolute delight, but she's also gorgeous) and a mojito can totally change one's perspective.

Yes, while everything from trivial TV nonsense (Nick! Oh how I will miss you) to actual tragedies (both personal and public) still get me down in a serious way and most things continue to suck, I'm back from the brink.

I won't list all of the things that brought me to said brink (let's just say Murphy and his motherfucking laws can bite me), but I'm over it. My summer starts today.

Enjoy this wonderful song and its scary (and fantastic) mashup video — yes, I made it myself, about 400 years ago — for "Summertime Climb" by the Flashing Lights. It's my greatest creation, best appreciated if you are exceedingly awesome or at least on exceedingly awesome drugs.

I wonder if I take you home ...

Here's just a little peek inside our house:

At 11:30 PM tonight, Dollie and I sat in the living room hysterically crying. She, at some certainly monumental and touching moment in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. And me at a lady butchering the lyrics to "Uptown Girl" on "The Singing Bee." Mine was of the laughing-so-hard-I'm-wheezing type, which certainly makes me mentally unstable (in case you're keeping track).

Also, there will be more entries in my top 100, but I spent last week trying to dig myself out of a pit of despair, and I'll spend this week shopping, gambling and drinking, so I'll update when I can. Please stop the incessant begging.

Oh yes, and to give you a visual, please consult this video. Coincidentally, I am wearing the same pink outfit as Lisa Lisa right this minute. And Dollie is rocking the Full Force headgear and doing the dance — while reading her book! She is amazing.

100 Greatest Songs - Exhibit 1

As noted last week, I'm collecting songs that I have deemed among the greatest ever and posting them here for in no particular order. I do this for kicks, for posterity, to be productive and to share the love.

"Creep" by TLC

The greatness of this song inspires me to be greater. The chorus? Killer. The verses? Perfect. The breakdown? Transcendent. And the production? Whoa.

Just this morning, I was marveling over how clean the production is. I would have surgery in it. Tape the song off the radio onto an old Winger cassette single (after taping over the "do not tape over" holes, of course), leave it in a hot car for six months and play it on a boombox with blown speakers and the song still sounds pristine. It is that perfect.

But even more gorgeous that the trunk-tight (Oh yes, Fresh!) production is the song itself. I don't know how I lived without it until 1994. It makes my heart sing. It sounds like a miracle. Plus it is all T-Boz (AKA all cool -- Crazy, Sexy or Cool? There's no doubt what I'd pick) and redefines "astray" in a way that truly makes one go "hmm."

Perfect moments:

Yes, it's deadly from go, with the horn and the "Yes, it's me again." A minute in, you know exactly what's going on. You don't know how fun it is going to be to get there, but that's the magic.

1:54: I keep giving love until the day he pushes me away.

2:06 Whoo!

3:58 Oh I, Oh I, Oh I-high!

Listen up.

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everything's the way it should be, I suppose

Last night I saw Travis, just two weeks shy of 10 years since I first saw them (at Brownies. Yes, I'm awesome).

The show was great. I really like the new album quite a bit (and I've only really liked Good Feeling — which STILL holds up on a roadtrip — and The Man Who, so that's saying something), that Demetri Martin "Selfish Jean" video is far more entertaining live, and remembering to scream at Dougie's verse in "Turn" came right back to me like I last did it yesterday.

Plus they played two old timey songs for old timers like me, "Good Feeling" and "All I Want to Do Is Rock."

They didn't (and they wouldn't, but they have done — I have the November '97 setlist to prove) play "Hazy Shades of Gold," so I'll play that for you now. It's a B-side from 1997, featured on the "U 16 Girls" single. Because Travis keep putting out super light and poppy songs for your Nana (I love light and poppy songs and Nanas, of course), you might forget that they started out with a rock record. "Hazy Shades of Gold" is a good example of it.

It's rough and magical, and includes the gorgeous "Dougie, get back. DOUGIE! Get back! Thanks!" (at 1:07) moment (something about Fran needing to see the drummer during recording? I don't remember now, but I have our interview on tape somewhere). Someday, perhaps you'll see that. For now, instead, you can hear this.

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I can do this now, and I have insulted you

I famously (seriously, did Nick Kroll observe my behavior at a bar one night and create Fabrice Fabrice, or is this all a coincidence? And is it wrong that I have a tremendous crush on a fictional character who bears a striking resemblance to myself drunk — well, except the clothes. whoa. — because I totally do. Last night was like a dream, really.)

Anyway, I famously (whatever, I'm still saying it) like to profess, when people are discussing a song that I like (often to talk about hating it, that really gets me going) that the song is on my top 100 greatest songs of all time list.

Which often leads people to ask what #1 is. My answer is generally, "I don't know. Also, shut up."

But yes, I have a feeling I've said this about far more than 100 songs, and I will never be able to rank them at all, but I've decided to start a project here (in association with my MOG page), wherein I begin to take stock of these pronouncements.

Why? Well, I am unemployed and alone all day (um, what do people do in NYC besides work and shop? Because since I'm not doing one, I can't do the other) and it would be nice if I had some body of work to show for my time. And I'm starting to say "This is clearly on my top 100 greatest songs of all time list" to myself. Not OK.

We're starting Monday. Get ready and get into it.

they've only got one

Henrik has re-signed. Hallelujah!

To celebrate, here is a nice video for a not-bad Sloan song. (Though, as the lovely and talented Lola has noted, the "or maybe TWO!" at the end almost ruins it all).

Oh, and THIS ... is awesome.

you wore that to your wedding?

How was my week? Well, I'm not drunk and yet I just started crying laughing at this Andy Milonakis segment. Whoa. Seriously, though, the "Do you Herbie Johnson take this lovely wife ... to be your lawfully wedded wife" part is pretty flipping hilarious. And then when he throws the water? Awesome.

don't take it personal

I had another memorable dream. Two of them. And they were way better than the stupid Sloan/ Korn one, though both were tied to work.

In one, it was my last day of work, and some IT person was running off a report of my computer, noting all the things I looked at that I shouldn't (as if I had any time for that during the day!) and as I was like, "Whatever, F- you guys," someone (with whom I do not work in real life) said, "Jane, I'd like you to meet ..." and before they could get "... Henrik Lundqvist" out I'd attached myself to the lovely goalie, never to be parted.

Then in another one, someone I really do work with told someone else in the office that I had a crush on him (gee, thanks). While this was more realistic (it was the real people, and I really do have a -- foolish, terrible -- crush on the one guy), it wasn't scarily so. For one thing, Sha doesn't know, so it isn't like he could tell the guy. Also, even if he did know, I believe he would never sell out a Queens girl like that. The best part of the dream? The crush guy, upon learning this news, took off his pants -- in the office. But no, even that isn't the best part. The BEST PART is that when he did that I said, "Really, you should put your pants back on. It's not that serious."

"It's not that serious"! Amazing. Best line ever.

I am having an exausting week. I have been cosmically clowned, and it has made me not want to do anything, not even dance with the gays. What a bummer.

I never had a good time

How's my vacation? Well, I just yelled "The clavicle is a bone, fucking idiot" at a dude on "Jeopardy." So pretty good, I'd say.

I've had well enough of this heat, though, so let's call that off, shall we?

I just took a nap and dreamed about a Sloan show. Korn opened. Seriously? I'd been getting so little sleep and remembering so few dreams that I forgot how stupid they are.

Dan Abrams has been filling in on "Scarborough Country," and I've really been enjoying that. I've missed Dan dearly since he stopped hosting "The Abrams Report." But Scarborough has apparently still been on his morning show. Is Dan taking over Joe's PM spot? I demand answers. And way more Dan Abrams.

heaven knows what happens now

Today was my last official day at work. It wasn't my last real day of work, as I will fill in for a couple of days in a couple of weeks, but the day I'd been counting down to arrived. So, yeah. It's weird.

Yesterday, there was goodbye drinking, which was nice. A day-of decision, and I think that is fun, except that I wasn't dressed for public life. We're talking freshly dyed unwashed hair piled up on top of my head, an outfit entirely made up of clothes two sizes too big and my green Sauconys. Wait, those green ones you stopped wearing months ago because they got too dirty? Yep. Did they somehow get cleaner? Nope. Everyone must have been thinking, "Dang, that bitch does need some time off ... to go shopping!"

But the beer was nice and the company was lovely and everyone gets five stars. Except it somehow went from being 8PM and me totally leaving to 12:30AM and me just getting home. Then when it was 4AM and my alarm went off, I couldn't handle it. So I rolled over for a little while longer and went for a later bus -- except that bus and the next one didn't show up. Bastards. So I was late on my last 6AM day. Terrible. Fire her!

don't be unhappy with me, I find you charming

Here's some advice: Don't give six weeks notice when you quit your job. And if you do, don't agree to then fill in a week AFTER your six weeks for a vacationing (ex)co-worker. Not because it isn't the right thing to do — it is the right thing to do. The thing is, it will make you cry.

At some point, you are going to have HAD IT. Had it, had it, had it. And you're going to cry at work. Not because you are sad, or a silly girl, but because sometimes the choice is crying or picking up your computer monitor (no flat panels for us, baby) and throwing it. And you don't want to do that. But what I advise you, to skip the throwing and the crying and all that? Just give two weeks notice. If it was good enough for Hugh Grant, it's good enough for your boss.

So yeah, I've already cried. Which means if Paris Hilton gets out of jail, or Britney Spears gets knocked up again or Lindsay Lohan is photographed doing coke off of some dude's piece (well, that would at least be an entertaining story) while I'm still there, the computer monitor is probably toast.

Last night I went to the UCB Theater, where Seth Meyers and Fabrice Fabrice talked, and some other crap. Whatever. All I know is that I LOVE Seth Meyers and Fabrice Fabrice, and that's all I needed to know.

Hey, Sunday is Sloan! Yay!

PS Also I saw "Once" last night, and I loved it so much. Here a song from it. When it turns 1:20, that's when I love to start singing along.

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'I've been had!' gets me every time

Just when I'm leaving, they start doing amazing things like dressing James up in tie-dye and making him live in a tent. This "horse with a knife on its head" moment may be the greatest non-"You Tell Us" thing I've witnessed in my tenure. Enjoy.

you're going up you're going down you're going nowhere

I don't usually take the subway home at 6:30PM, but I had a meeting a little late today, and it turns out the subway at 6:30PM is not so bad. Firstly, the trains weren't as frantically crowded as I thought. Secondly, I spotted John Turturro, who is incredibly handsome. I, for one, was quite surprised. He's pretty gray and very tan, but in a "I've been working outside" way, not "I've been fake tanning" way. Then I saw the singer from Nada Surf, who I used to see in Williamsburg all the time. He looked nice too. But John Turturro, totally hot.

Ooh, I got this awesome thing. It is ruling my world right now. And yes, I am using it right now!

i just fall asleep because I'm not involved

There is nothing on TV and nothing I want to watch on the DVR. How boring. I mean, sure, I have about 90 other things to do, but I am exhausted. I wanted to watch very dumb TV and not think. I wish the "Human Giant" marathon was on again. I love that thing.

I have 19 more work days of work. That is so many.

To celebrate my freedom, I'm thinking Tortilla Flats bingo. Do they even do that anymore? Forgive me my ignorance, I haven't been in the general population in a good long time.

PS I have been keeping up with my MOGging vow of one song per day. For I rule. I don't know if I can do it this weekend since I won't be home. But love will find a way. Some man told me that once.

Speaking of some man, I picked some man to like, for it is May and I do that, plus it makes the time go faster (19 work days and all). But then he turned out to be too young, so we broke up. And by we, I do not mean we.

See, delirious.

In reality news, one of my all-time favorite people (two of my all-time favorite people, really) just bought a wonderful house. I am so happy about it! They are great and so is the house. Yay!

PPS: YAY!

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she's aware it's all been done before

What have I been doing?

• Seeing Mike Viola at the Living Room
• Also catching part of Chris Thile's set (and spotting not-dead Jesse Camp!) at that same Living Room show
• Doing little dances of joy at news that Sloan is playing Summerstage's Canada Day
• Staying at work until almost 6PM (just Monday. Today I left five minutes early to get some pre-"Idol" napping in)
• Eating jalapeno poppers at Nice Guy Eddie's (my last hurrah)
• Keeping up with my daily song posts at the ol' MOG
• Probably other stuff, too, but I don't remember.

I'm after whatever the other life brings

Today we sat on the B61 for an hour each way to visit Red Hook and get key lime pies. Because when you think key limes, you think industrial waterfront NYC, right? Anyway, we ate these glorious swingles — mini pies dipped in chocolate, frozen on stick. Dreamy. We also bought a whole pie to bring home. Then we walked through Williamsburg (jeepers, so many annoying people) and I bought a new bag (Lucille Whales). There was walking and fresh air and sun. I loved it.

I'm continuing my quest to post and write about a song daily over at my MOG. Today's is Patti Smith's "Frederick." I won't post the song here because you probably already know it. The end.

HEY! la la la la

I need to post here more. I need here to be where I post all the things I've posted everywhere else. So I am going to start to do that in a big way, but first I will do it in a small way, and point out that I've updated my long-neglected Modern Log MOG, with a Sloan song and a heartwrenching tale. OK, not so much the second part.

SATURDAY UPDATE:

I am going to post a song a day over at the MOG site. (Yes, I suppose I could do that here, but they make it so much easier. Plus I get bonus bulldog photos. SCORE!) What a great idea, right? Today's is "Wall of Fire" by Peter Elkas. The story behind that is that he was in a band that I didn't like.

Oh look, I can sort of post it here! Only without the words.

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is that what we want, girls?

Ohh. Remember last Thursday when there was a Sloan show and $2.50 beers and Todor? I miss that.

I'd love to but I can't, sir

I love Sloan. Even when I don't like some of their songs, even when I (temporarily) don't like some of them as people (hey, it happens), I always love them. And this time, they made it so easy. With two fun shows and two totally normal after-show meetings, they made me want to follow them all over the world. Though I cannot. I especially cannot follow them right now, as they are about to go to Australia, which is very far away. I do not have the money or time for that. I will tell you that if JetBlue went to Minneapolis, I'd totally go to that show this weekend and make Kim be my date. Unfortunately for me (and maybe fortunately for Kim) JetBlue doesn't go there. I hate you right now, JetBlue. Even if you let me fly for free.

I was just watching "Subterranean," and I was thinking how they should hand the show over to me. I have experience, and I would play much better songs. (Seriously, there were some barkers in there this week.) Also, think of all the people they could fire (I know how you love to do that, people who rule MTV2!) Also, I am cheap. Ask anyone. PS I can't believe I didn't direct that sick Of Montreal video (and I mean sick as in not well). It truly has the jane and dollie tm mark.

What podcasts should I be listening to? Talking ones, not song ones. What I listen to now is "Gay Pimpin' With Jonny McGovern" and "Savage Love." I enjoy them both immensely. Another talk radio thing I enjoyed is Howard Stern, c. 1995. Clearly I've put together a clear profile rife with clarity, so leave me some suggestions.

Speaking of Howard Stern c. 1995, why has NO ONE posted the video of when they spray-can-haired Scott the Engineer? This was genius classic TV/radio. They even gave him a widow's peak! I must have it on tape somewhere, but who has time to look through all those tapes? Do you think someone would pay me to digitize all of my video? Because it's good for America.

want to guess his name? I'll give you three choices ...

Sleeping until 10AM really f-s with your day, even when it is a day off. This is probably more of an issue if you generally get up at 4AM.

PS Todor Kobakov truly is Todorlly awesome. I'm guessing. I can't be sure, but talking about him all night last night is about the most fun I ever had.

the better better better it gets

It's official: Ryan Gosling is a dream walking.

Oh yes, and nothing else matters in life but hockey.

she knows she's losing it

If I get through this week without ending up in a rubber room, I will consider it a major victory.

Speaking of major victories, my gorgeous and flawless NY Rangers won the Eastern Conference quarterfinals in a sweep. Sorry, Lil Jon. But, it happened in a week of horror. Which means I went from trying to cover monstrous shootings from an office in Times Square to jumping up and down for the "GOAL!" song in Madison Square Garden in about an hour. That's not good for one's head.

And then today, when I buy every local paper so that I have the pretty pretty back page action, the front page is a mass murderer pointing a gun at me. Where is censorship when I need it?

Even if I were sane I couldn't handle this. And we all know I am not sane. For example, I lost count of how many times I rewatched Matt Cullen's post-game interview last night to catch him "looking at me." I wish I were kidding. I really wish I didn't think we made actual eye contact. Through the TV. It's sad, really. But it's the quickest way to get happy.

my wandering days are over

Dear Hockey,

You are everything, and everything is you. There's no living without your loving. You're everything I need and more. You're all I'm living for.

Seriously, what would we do without you but grieve?

Tonight, I celebrate my love for you.

Tomorrow, I sit in front of the TV and scream.

Wednesday, I get a haircut (it's supposed to rain, of course) and maybe hopefully celebrate a playoff clinch (oh please please yes).

And Thursday, I class up section 327 with my section 343 magic.

And then, then then ... the playoffs. Ohhhh, the playoffs.

I'm sorry, kids. I know I'm supposed to keep the hockey in the hockey place, but it's my world right now.

I am too flawless to be with you people - how did this happen?

I was just now watching this week's "Saturday Night Live" and it had "Deep House Dish". Really? I can't imagine that anyone likes that sketch but me (I do love it), and that was its sixth time. Perhaps this is how people who like "The Falconer" feel. Does anyone really like "The Falconer"?

I want to live the sporting life

My stepfather bet me $10 that Boston would win the St. Patrick's Day Bruins/Rangers game.

"I've always loved the Bruins," he said. "And the Devils." He lies. He's a Rangers fan. He does it just to drive me crazy. The other day he called me as a representative of the Chris Simon Fan Club. He's a riot.

Anyway, we won 7-0. And Matt Cullen got 2 goals and an assist (it's like supporting a team within a team!). Pop should bet me more often.

Speaking of sports enjoyment, there was an "exposé" on "Dateline NBC" about men who like watching football. Yeah, really. So they had these huge fans who really like their team, and the wives who can't stand it. My favorite part is when the wives talk about how much they hate it, PS of course the men were crazy fans before they were married. First off, why hate it? Who cares? I hate football too, but it's on once a week. How much of a problem can it be? And if you do hate it, why get married to a fan?

So they set the dudes up by having the wives ask them to do things around the house while the game was on. Come on! Leave the dudes alone. Does it make you happy to haunt your husband so he can't enjoy something that he loves? Aren't you happy to see him happy? Can't you find something to do without him on a Sunday afternoon? And when did emasculation become a prerequisite for being a good husband?

Also, how is it that no one has married me?

I've been taking a lot without giving back

This may be the best video ever.

You're welcome.

not gonna change till I want to

I have a new favorite song! Yay!

If you told me my new favorite song would be by Albert Hammond Jr., probably I would kick you, or at the very least think badly of you. I would have been so wrong.

This song, it is called "In Transit," and I listened to it about 65 times in transit today, and maybe 65 other times last night at home.

Did I mention that I love it? I do. I love his way of singing (much more than the Strokes) and I love the melody, and I love that I have no idea what he's talking about and I love how it starts out as some other song I love and can't ID, and then turns into "This Is Just a Modern Rock Song" or some other Belle & Sebastian someting and then becomes "Don't Save Us From the Flames" from M83.

Hear it at this fine site (Fine Fine Music, hey!). You may love it too, even if you're sure you won't.

miss me, miss me, now you've got to kiss me

Jorge, you fool! Not only did you miss me (you poor, poor thing!) but you also missed a 4-0 win.

Rangers fans, you can thank me. I wore the lucky socks and jersey, I had the traditional pre-game cup of coffee and in-game giant beer (and braved the ladies room, as one would have to after consuming that much liquid). I kept my spirits high, watched Matt Cullen's every move (that part was easy — ooh, and click that link to see him biting, just like me!) and even read the dreaded work email during the game — If I read this email, Henrik will hold his shut out.

He did. He rules. I rule. My night was magnificent.

And today at work totally sucked a butt. You can't have it all, kids. This I know for sure.

would you knooooooow MYYYYY naaaaaaaaame?

I've got a new pretend boyfriend at the hockey game. He sits in my section and seems to have the same ticket plan I do. He is cute. I insisted that Dollie pick a name for him (I have to call him something), and she named him Jorge.

"Why Jorge?"

"Well, I told you I thought he was French!"

There was laughing. There was screaming. And that's all there is to say about that.

PS This title is from a Sheila Divine song. (I fixed it so that you know that it isn't Eric Clapton). And speaking of The Sheila Divine, Dear Leader, starring Sheila Divine frontman Aaron Perrino, is playing Friday night. Yay! OH NO! They are not. I just went to the page to link to it, and it's canceled. Now I cry all day forever.

the good old days, the honest man

Oh no oh no oh. Dollie was right. I am man crazy. It is not good. The worst part of it is that right now, I am not even just man crazy in general (though I will admit that I do also harbor a teeny mini crush on a very young, very pretty, very inappropriate man -- but that's another story).

BUT for real I am one-man crazy, and it's one man I don't even hardly ever see, one man who I could have previously taken advantage of on any number of occasions. One man who I got similarly (and similarly too late) crazy for like 10 months ago. Ugh! Boo and hiss.

Worst of all, I totally don't even know where he lives or remember his last name or any of those important investigative-type things. I am giving this all a resounding thumbs down.

Also, I am totally obsessed with that Killers song. I listened to it all the way home today. Weirdo.

I know you know who they are because I've been talking to them backstage

Oh oh oh. There's a reason that no one is searching for Cool Ice, Cold Soda, and that is because I spelled it wrong. It is Kool Ice Kold Soda. Duh. Now that I know how to spell it, and know there is content on the interwebs, I feel so much better. Now I have to have faith that would-be one true loves do not cheat and look it up. If you step to me on the Kold Soda tip, you will be tested. Believe.

you care, I know, I forgot for a while

It borders on ludicrous that I am unable to write more than once a week. I mean, really. But this weekend I was tired. So so tired. Friday I went to see "Les Miserables" with my mom and Dollo. Third time for me, fourth for my mom, first for Dollo. Sadly, Fantine was terrible. Other than that (although that's big — killed a big crying scene for me) it was very good.

Saturday I went for a walk to get milk at the farmers' market. Then, um, I think that was it. Oh yes, plus the "am I getting thrown out or a lease?" apartment drama ended (I'm getting a new lease Monday). And there was also the hockey game (just on TV, but exhausting all the same) and "Invincible." Let's see, Mark Wahlberg starring in an inspirational sports film about poor people? Of course I loved it!

Speaking of that, yes yes yes to his Oscar nomination. And yes yes yes for Ryan Gosling's. Finally, something to root for. Also, it's been about 18 years now that Mark Wahlberg first showed up in a New Kids on the Block fan magazine and I said, "Ooh, now that's what I'm talking about." So when he wins that Oscar, I can say I knew him when.

Today, I took a shower and spent the day switching between the couch and the computer. This is sad. I am sad. In nearly all senses of the word. But! I did manage to squeeze in three or four hours of Korean TV (No subtitles. And none of us speak Korean), including a show featuring practical science experiments. And the popular favorite, Xman. I never have any idea what's happening, but everyone is having so much fun that it hardly matters. Enjoy!

'cause all I ever have in mind is ...

Last weekend — or was it the weekend before? — Dollie accused me of being "man crazy." Man crazy. Imagine? Just for fixating on some smiley eavesdropping dude who came into Jerry's in a Mets hat and told us when the new Garden was built (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go back to Jerry's and they will tell you how to).

See, the thing is, I never get to see new boys. Lucky people who work in stores don't understand this. I see the same people every day, and of course I wouldn't like any of them — no office crushes for me since c. 1999 and Baseline Jeff (Hey, if you're that man, you could call me. Go to Jerry's and they will tell you how).

So yeah, new boys are very interesting to me. Like the guy who picked up my laundry this evening, for example. He was so smiley and tall and nice, and even complemented my (totally fantastic, as it happens) doormat. Hey, if you're that dude, call me. Or, you know, just bring back my laundry tomorrow.

There's no Rangers hockey until Saturday, so I'm pretty hard up for boy time. I'll not apologize.

yeah, no problem, Tyuts

I'm not sure what you know about "Bobby Granger's Guide to the Rangers" (very little is my guess. If I'm wrong, let me know. We have so much to discuss!) but it is a series of short spots promoting the greatest sport's greatest team (this is not defined with win/loss stats, clearly). Anyway, they are all quite funny and deliver precious off-ice seconds with the players.

Last night, Dollie introduced me to this one, which is my favorite ever, not just because Matt Cullen is in it (he's the ping-pong playing "Bonehead" who doesn't understand Russian) but mostly because it made me laugh for at least 15 minutes after I saw it. That plant? Comedy gold. I've never caught this one on TV, and I seriously watch hours of MSG a day. So I'm sharing. Enjoy!

the alarm is set for noon

We won! We won we won we won. I loved it. Matt Cullen played 98 shifts (the scorecard doesn't show this, but I know what I saw) and also took off his helmet and shook out his hair at one point. It looked like a new 'do. I liked it. This also didn't show up on the scorecard. I warn you now, the yearbook comes out Saturday. If it's as good as last year's I may have to take Monday off to take it all in. And you'll hear about it. Get ready.

So yes, fun Rangers times yesterday. Then we went and had pho (yay and yum) and met a great friend's new friend (very handsome, very fun), walked from Chinatown to Union Square and then through Williamsburg, and then we came home. Soon there was sleeping. Over nine hours of it.

This is what a weekend is supposed to be, my loves. Fun, sleeping, wins, boys.

Oh, and I dyed my hair some more. Medium ash brown? Not quite. It is totally black in the back and underneath. That better wear off quick.

And my Christmas tree is down, and out on the curb. Progress!

Tomorrow, Target and laundry. And gearing up for a hell of a week.

Oh my God. Andy Rooney is droning on and on about team names. He is killing me.

no need for further questioning

Now Matt's more like it. What a delight. Clearly, Matt Cullen just needed someone to talk him up. See how supportive I am? I inspire great success. Unfortunately, the post-game interview highlighted just how incredibly lovely the mighty Mr. Cullen is, and now everyone will be in love. What a bummer.

Do you think there will be NY Rangers at the Sloan show? They're off that night and the next night. And it's right between a NJ game and a home game, so they'll be in town, presumably. Lots of Canadians in the ranks — you'd think someone on the team has to like Sloan. I ask only because I'm going to need something to entertain me during the bad songs. There's only so many times I can go to the ladies' room. Alone. If you're at the show and see a Ranger, find me quick.

don't regret what you have done, regret what you've become

I have a new favorite song. It's called "Gimme One More Chance" by Drug Dog. Hear it now!

There's a lesson in this story, kids: If you want to know how to get me to pay attention to you, be from a band that doesn't exist anymore that I still love today, (that part's tough, I admit) and leave a comment of "QXK!" on my MySpace profile. It works every time.

it's the last thing that's holding me

Oh Sloan. Their L.A. album release party is a Cobrasnake production, DJed by Steve Aoki. I find this adorable, somehow.

So do you think the U.S. release is going to have 30 completely different tracks? I'm holding on to hope.

PS: Eeeee!

slow down, you're taking me over

Yes, he's married. Yes, he has a new baby (named Brooks. How delightful is that?!) But I'm sorry, when the Brett Anderson of the NHL is on my team, I'm bound to catch some feelings. I mean, really.

you wonder why New York fans are in love with him

If you listen close, you can hear me screaming.

speaks with his fist

10 minutes into a (crucial, much needed) nap, the phone rang. It was work.

So I had some work to do (news doesn't stop just because I need a nap and have a hockey game to get to) and ended up leaving an hour late for MSG. I missed the first 12 minutes of the first period (and also our first goal in seven periods — thank you Prucha, you handsome, wonderful man). I arrived just in time to see Nylander score the second goal of the game, so I bought a beer and went to my seat.

And then the party started. That motherfucking monster Donald Brashear — one of the very few people whom I'd surely spit in the face of, given the chance — was in (not-so) rare form, picking fights, haunting Jagr, asking for a total beating.

Our regular team thugs (and I say that with the utmost respect and affection. I love our team thugs.) did their best to keep him busy and put him in his place. And then he tangled with Brendan Shanahan. The entire Garden was on its feet screaming and cheering for every punch my man Shanny landed after he threw off his gloves and got the party started right on center ice. It was glorious. Then Brashear got thrown out, for attempting to do bodily harm, and I jumped up and down (seriously, I left the ground at least four times in pure joy) and pointed to the door, cheering. It was magic.

Oh yeah, plus we won. Seven-game losing streak? Snapped!

at least now I can say that I am trying

Year-End Special, Issue #2: Albums, Part 1

Album that boiled the genius of three of my favorite defunct bands into one highly enjoyable and extremely unlikely package:
Brand New, The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me

Album that made me wonder if we'd all be better off if another of my favorite bands were defunct:
Sloan, Never Hear the End of It

Album that was worth the 90 years of waiting:
The Dears, Gang of Losers

Album that left me feeling all warm and nostalgic-like
Candy Butchers, Making Up Time

can I get myself out from underneath

At 9something PM, my Christmas tree was up and decorated, all but the angel. I should have taken a picture. Because then it fell down. I don't think anything broke, luckily (Not even the ornaments you threw across the room for daring to fall on you while you were under the tree trying to get it to stand again? No, not even those).

Also, hockey fucking sucked. 9-2? Seriously? My day was going well until that. Bastards. I'm giving the Bigmouth Maple Leafs Fan who sits behind me at MSG just 30 seconds to talk about it at tonight's game. After that, he's going the way of the ornaments that fell on my head. Only he'll break, I assure you.

This morning I've dyed my hair. Now I'm going out to get a new Christmas tree stand. And a latte. Using Preference by Loreal AND indulging in a Dunkin' Donuts free Gingerbread Latte? Why not? I'm worth it.

PS I didn't stay up for all of the JT SNL, but so far so good. "Omletteville" revisited I saw coming. "The Barry Gibb Talk Show" I hoped for. But "My Dick in a Box" — now that was a surprise. And a good one. Especially when they said, "See, I'm wise enough to know ..." Magnificent.

I don't mind you under my skin

I don't believe that you believe (You, who? I don't know. Maybe me) that I really love this Brand New record. I think some of you who don't know it need convincing. Call me and I will play the songs for you. Or here are some words that are so fantastic to make you die. PS Think of them with the best, most appropriate music behind them and that is exactly it. Man.

The lucky thing is that in my favorite song, "Limousine," one of the best parts is repeated approximately 600,000 times. Perfect. It goes, "I love you so much/ But do me a favor, baby, don't reply/ Cause I can dish it out, but I can't take it."

Oh. My. Land. Are you dead? Did it kill you? You know it killed me. (Especially those of you who know how I lived it!) Anyway, is that not the greatest thing you've ever heard? Also there is the amazing part of "And in the choir/ I saw our sad Messiah/ He was bored and tired of my laments/ Said I’d die for you one time but never again."

Whoa.

Another favorite song is "Luca," and that one is crazy too.

"You'll never work well with our group/ Not with the faults we found/ So we fixed you with cement galoshes/ No one can save you now/ Unless you have friends among fish/ There'll still be no air to breathe/ You can drink up the entire ocean/ We'll still find someone to be everything we know that you'll never be"

I have no idea what that means, but I know that it is amazing.

you tidal wave, you're a big surprise

Um, I love this Brand New album. Wait, what? Love it. It's like The Sheila Divine and Thrush Hermit and some other something I love (What is it? Tell me.) and everything else great. Why didn't anyone tell me? I mean, I heard people telling other people, but other people like stuff that sucks. Why didn't anyone tell ME? OK, so James at work told me today as I was stealing it from the "Steal This" bin in the mailroom. Thanks, James. You're right.

In other news, I really feel so free now. I think lifting the bad band burden (see previous entry) has lifted my spirits. Not enough to go out tonight as planned, but whatever. I will not hide your secret anymore, Sloan. You made a bad record. Wow. It feels so good to say it.

But don't take it too hard. After all, I am a Freak.

Freak- INFJ 46% Extraversion, 53% Intuition, 33% Thinking, 73% Judging

Well, well, well. How did someone like you end up with the least common personality type of them all? In a group of 100 Americans, only 0.5 others would be just like you. You really are one of a kind... In fact, I do believe that that's one of the definitions for the word "FREAK." Freak's not such a bad word to describe you actually. You are deep, complex, secretive and extremely difficult to understand. If that doesn't scream "Freak!" I don't know what does. No-one actually knows the REAL you, do they? You probably have deep interests in creative expression as well as issues of spirituality and human development. You've probably even been called a "psychic" before, because of your uncanny knack to understand and "read" people without quite knowing how you do it. Don't fret. You're not actually psychic. That would make you special and you'll never accomplish that. You're also quite possibly the most emotional of them all, so don't take this all too hard. Nevertheless you most definitely have the strangest personality type and that's not necessarily a good thing. *****************The other personality types Loner - Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving Pushover - Introverted Sensing Feeling Judging Criminal - Introverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving Borefest - Introverted Sensing Thinking Judging Almost Perfect - Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving Loser - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving Crackpot - Introverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging Clown - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving Sap - Extraverted Sensing Feeling Judging Commander - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Perceiving Do Gooder - Extraverted Sensing Thinking Judging Scumbag - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving Busybody - Extraverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging Prick - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Perceiving Dictator - Extraverted iNtuitive Thinking Judging Link: The Brutally Honest Personality Test written by UltimateMaster on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

10s, 10s, 10s, 10s, 10s across the board!

Year-End Special, Issue #1: Best White Rapper

Do you know how I feel about white rappers? It isn't good. For years I believed the greatest white rapper was Aaron Carter, which really said more about Eminem than Aaron.

But anyway, I've changed my mind. And not only because Aaron Carter is giving a serious meth fiend effect (allegedly).

No, it's not Kevin Federline (sorry, dude). And not to shortchange Paul Wall — he's white, right? — though the Brooke Hogan action is a bit busted, but this category comes down to two serious contenders: Mickey Avalon and Linda James.

Let's break it down:

One's an L.A. hustler-turned-rapper.

The other's a New York androgofemme from the house of Aviance.

One caught my attention with the super-catchy "Jane Fonda": "One, two, three, four/ Get your booty on the dance floor/ Work it out/ Shake it little mama/ let me see you do the Jane Fonda."

The other has brought a weekly ray of sunshine to my life via the Gay Pimp podcast.

One won me over in a big way with the lyric "I'm on the run/ My dad's a bum/ I asked my girl if she loved me and she just said, 'Umm.'"

The other spits genius rhymes including "I know you wanna get in my Balenciaga/ All night fucking on a bed of dolla." Also, "[Something something something] fuck/ My white diamonds always bring me luck."

While Linda has brought me more joy this year, most of it wasn't rap-related. Mickey has delivered the rhymes, though Linda has my heart. I just need more music, gir'!

For now, this one is a draw.