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?

it's in me to sing

I haven't written about cooking in a long time, but I just made a very lovely salad that I don't want to forget.

Grilled chicken (6 strips, marinated in balsamic vinegar, olive oil, herbes de Provence)
Goat cheese (small log, with garlic and herbs)
radish (1 large, thin and thick sliced)
cucumber (1 medium, sliced)
romaine (1 head, chopped)
vinaigrette (balsamic vinegar, apple cider vinegar, orange juice, olive oil, salt, pepper, herbes de Provence)

This made two big dinner salads, and they were pretty fantastic.

I had to eat up early to get to work - it's VMAs night! Oh, just kidding. (About the working, not about it being VMAs night.) While the first VMAs that you don't work on are a big deal, the second are almost negligible. I will watch, because I always do and because I expect interesting things from Russell Brand. Tomorrow morning, I will check out all the magic made over at the MTV News site, salute its greatness and be grateful that I had nothing to do with it.

In other news, I love this song. It's by the Constantines, and it is everything that is great about the world:

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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.

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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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.

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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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.

maybe you'll understand me

On Friday night, at around 12:30AM (OK, I guess that's really Saturday morning), I had a very strange experience. My favorite musician at age seven (Marshall Crenshaw) and my favorite musician for the past 10 years now (Mike Viola) did a few songs together on stage.

They started out with the Crenshaw standard "Someday, Someway," and while that is probably not my favorite song of his, it's perfect in every way. The moment was, well, stupendously bizarre. In a good way.

And while I imagine a few dozen others felt exactly the same way (it's not a stretch that a Mike Viola fan would be a Marshall Crenshaw fan), it seemed like it was a special moment just for me.

I'd also imagine that everyone has heard "Someday, Someway" a billion times now, but maybe you haven't. You really should.

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I will come back soon and write more. Promise.

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 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.

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.

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.

remember the time

Today was my first day at a new job. Those of you who know me know that this doesn't happen very often, as I am terribly loyal, holding on to a job far longer than I should in some cases. So yes, that was new and exciting.

In other big-changes news, I finally got the HD DVR to go with the HD TV I bought last October. Surely sports and movies are going to be infinitely more enjoyable with this new cable box, and it has some sweet features like the option to start recording a show late — so I was able to DVR "The Office" (end time 10:01PM) "Grey's Anatomy" (end time 10:02PM) and "Without a Trace" (start time 10PM) — but it is lacking a few things. One problem is that the time elapsed doesn't show up when you're fast-forwarding anymore, just an arrow that shows you where you are in the show. Um, that's not good enough.

Tonight, I said, "I really miss the time," as I zipped through "Subterranean." And Dollo replied, "Ohh. ... Really?"

Because she thought I meant Morris Day's band. Seriously.

Luckily, I don't really miss The Time. I think they still tour, for one thing, plus I can enjoy gems like this whenever I like. What a delight.

feeling like an orchid

I could be accused of serving just to serve, and I apologize in advance for my poor humor, but I have to call out this New York Vulture interview with some 21-year-old goof from a pretty lame band.

Like "The Hills," this interview with Zach Condon makes me so glad I'm not 21, but unlike "The Hills," it isn't even fun.

Key points that made my eyes roll out of my head:

• Living among Hasidm in "South Williamsburg" makes him feel like he's in "an entirely different country"
• the "guilty pleasure" question on the whole — can't blame the kid for that one, but he does get daggers for "even Bruce Springsteen" answer. Oh even him, hmm?
• And, of course, "I'm an old man at heart."

I'm sure this Beirut fellow is a nice boy — though I've been hating the band's name since I first heard it — but this interview makes me want to throw tomatoes.

waiting for something to break

A couple of weeks back, I had a job interview that featured some of the standard job interview questions. One was, "What is your dream job?" The position I was there for — or at least the building that the position was in — came pretty close, I thought. At least until I can retire and be a feisty old lady who owns a bar.

But what David Chase reminded me during his Emmy acceptance speech last night, and what I thought of again this morning as I started up the season finale of "Rescue Me" and the Lemonheads' "My Drug Buddy" opened the show, is that my actual dream job (does this job even really exist?) is to pick the songs to play over TV shows and movie scenes, crucial montages especially.

This is probably only a part-time gig that I could still do while holding down a full-time job. So yes, I'm available for that immediately and forever.

And here's "Rudderless." It's not "My Drug Buddy" — it's better.

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it's not a f-ing school play production

These were my first VMAs as a civilian since 1999.

What did I think? Well, I can't remember much, as I am a teeny bit drunk (I don't know how many Ginger-Pear Explosions I had — seriously, we need a real name for these drinks. I invented them during the NHL playoffs to take the edge off. They feature Absolute Pears, fresh ginger, lime and ginger ale — but it was more than three). But I do know that Britney Spears was terrible (WAKE UP, snoozy!), Fall Out Boy looked terrible (though I do love them lately, for some reason) and Gym Class Heroes winning ANYTHING is beyond terrible. Someday, when I am confident that I can do it while keeping my blood pressure in a safe range, I will explain every single thing that is wrong with their despicable "Clothes Off."

But yeah, Chris Brown is pretty great, Nelly Furtado seemed insanely drunk, Sarah Silverman said something that made me laugh for the FIRST TIME EVER (no idea what it was now), and I can't stop loving Linkin Park. Or Rihanna.

In wedding news (What wedding? Who knows?!) no one had on a look that I wanted to emulate for my wedding — like J. Lo rocked before — but I did enjoy Alicia Keys' appropriation of George Michael's "Freedom '90," which I will surely play (the real thing, I mean) at my wedding. The song takes you on a dance journey. Plus "I don't belong to you, and you don't belong to me" is too right-on to pass up.

OK, also, where the bleep was Fabrice Fabrice?

So yeah, I watched closely, from the 8PM pre-show to Sway's delightful 11:17ish sign off. When it was all over, I went back to my new non-reality, that which I know and love. "Flight of the Conchords," of course.

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.

'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.

100 Greatest Songs - Exhibit 3

For Labor Day weekend, I present Mike O'Neill's "Andy" because it begins "Andy, the summer's over ..." Oh yes, and also because it's one of the greatest songs ever.

It's a simple little tune, this one. And I can't quite put my finger on why it's devastatingly brilliant, but I surely believe that it is, all 2 minutes and 30 seconds of it.

It has a bit of a dreamy sound to it — you're sort of floating along with him when he hits you with the "to think IT'S OVER!" at exactly the halfway point (genius). And it is certainly fun to sing (I've played it six times today and have belted out every last note along with Mr. O'Neill).

In all, it's a sigh of a song, mournful — about Andy (whoever that is), about time passing, about missing out on whatever it is that's right in front of you — in a tasteful way, with impressive restraint. Love it.

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when the seasons change we'll look ridiculous

I have had a worse season than this. Spring 1994 was hell on earth. Surely summer 2007 isn't that bad. But make no mistake, it is awful.

So in the interest of turning the beat around, I present "Summer's My Season," by Sloan. It's one long and dirgey play on words -- which would be painful, you'd think, but it's actually fantastic.

May it make the remaining weeks of this season bearable.

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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."

100 Greatest Songs - Exhibit 2

Today, I present "Smothered in Hugs," because my sunshine fund is low and because it seems an appropriate send off for the lovely Matt Cullen.

I hated this song when I first heard it, along with everything on Bee Thousand, an album so painfully low-fi that it smacked of a rich kid slumming. Seriously, unless you're living in a cave and recording with rocks, there's no reason for an album to sound that bad.

But a musician whom I love and trust couldn't believe I didn't like the record. "Not even 'Smothered in Hugs?' " he asked. "You'd love that song."

Ugh. No. Why would I love that song?

So he sang the why for me right there.

"I believe you/ No need for further questioning/ I'm gonna leave with you/ You can teach me all you know."

Of course, he was right.

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I never thought I'd see the day when I'd put Guided by Voices on my 100 greatest list, but I made the decision a year or two ago, long after that big jerk opened my eyes. It took me time to admit it, but this song is something special.

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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what a girl wants, what a girl needs

There's one lady who always knows what to bring and how to bring it. And when it's Xavier Boyer, the time is always right.

Thanks to a gift from this wonderful woman, I have been ferociously enjoying the Axe Riverboy album (when I'm not watching Fabrice Fabrice over and over — seriously, what is wrong with me?)

Anyway, back to the glorious Xavier. If you like wonderful songs and/or beautiful boys, you should watch this immediately. You're welcome.

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.

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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feeling it burning on and on

I don't know what it is about the lovely and talented Fresh, but I love her as if she were one of my own children. Today, when she referred to Akon as Acorn, I was so proud.

In other news, I have six more days of work! I do not have another job lined up, which means you will probably see me panhandling 'round about August. Or trying out for that vacant spot in Journey. I rock the bleep out of the "If you must goooooo!" part of "Separate Ways" ... and all of "Open Arms." Not really. Steve Perry's tough. Although, now that I think about it, my "Oh, Sherry" is pretty hot. Remember when I saw that Journey cover band and got mad at the guy in front of me for singing "Faithfully" like it was his jam PS THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE DUDE YOU ARE NOT IN A TOURING ROCK BAND! Yeah, that was pretty amazing.

Do you think Shane would be my boyfriend? Yes, I know she is a girl. And a fictional character. I'm just asking.

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.

we'll hold a grudge anyway

Perez Hilton is bigging up the Joel Plaskett Emergency.

Wait, what?

anytime she wants to walk out, that's fine

everybody take it to the top!

You know what rules? "Stomp" by the Brothers Johnson. In case you were wondering.

Hey, see it!

somebody just said 'see you later'

I'm watching "American Idol," like you do, and I got so angry that Haley gets to sing "Turn the Beat Around" with Jennifer Lopez's help. Why, God? Haley sucks. That song rules. Jennifer Lopez is, honestly, one of my personal icons. You may think I'm kidding. I totally am not. I love Jennifer Lopez.

And then, all of a sudden, Phil Stacey sings "Maria Maria," clearly one of the 20 worst songs of all time, and I realize that if I did the indie rock remix of it, maintaining all of it's awkward, embarrassing "glory" it would be on Never Hear the End of It.

And that, finally, is the best way for me to explain what I don't like about that album.

sit down next to me

Today I am going to that Elton John concert that's all over the news. I'm so lucky, right? I don't know where my tickets are, but I'm hoping for my regular hockey seats. Not because they'd be great concert seats (they wouldn't) but because they would be so familiar. And magical!

Speaking of hockey seats, please let them win today. I'm shooting for no losses from here till June.

we don't care what your name is, boy

Did Simon Cowell just say he didn't know "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying"? What? Can he be fired? How do you not know that song? How do you not love Gerry and the Pacemakers? Recognize, Cowell.

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.

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 got the green light, I got a little fight

I think what's going to happen is that the Killers are going to win me over on the disappointing Sam's Town by putting out every song as a single. I'm three for three with "Oh yeah, I guess I do like that song." Now "Read My Mind" has a video (which I have not seen yet) and it's my new favorite song. Good work changing my mind, Killers.

Last night I went out (to the whitest place I've been since that place on the West Side Highway — and last night I was in Greenpoint. What?!??!)

OK, it's aside time. And yes, I know I am white, very white, in fact. All Northern European ancestry — we kind of have white on lock, in most senses of the word. But not mine. The white that makes me want to leave nightlife establishments, the white that gives me that fright, is a very specific "I'm not from around these parts but I'm certainly not from another country"/ "I always have a trust fund or a job at the family company to fall back on"/ "I'm totally buying a big house back home as soon as I get NYC out of my system"/ "I even use toilet seat covers at home." These things aren't bad, they just aren't me. I prefer slightly grittier company.

Anyway, it was fine but mostly boring. Which was really just as well, as I had to be up and at 'em c. 8AM today. (Thanks again, Grammys!).

Earlier, the Rangers won again (oh thank you thank you, lovelies) thanks in no small part, I'm certain, to my rediscovery of the power of a well-placed "You're ugly!" scream at the other team during the game. It got us the Cup in 1994, I assure you, and calling Pavel Bure ugly wasn't easy. "LeCavalier, you're an ugly bastard and you stink" stuck in my throat on Friday night as well, but it turned into a 5-0 win. Good thing 90 percent of the most beautiful players are on our team.

Last night I had a dream that I was at a fancy party with theater journalist Patrick Pacheco and Seymour Butts. They were both pretty fun.

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!

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

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

oh where should I start?

The fog has lifted, and I'll tell you why, in not-even-remotely-blind-item terms: What Canadian band that put out a beyond-awful album is playing a secret/not secret/secret again show in my borough and didn't even bother to tell me?

Now, I know what you're thinking, "What, you're special?" Um, yes. And if I am not special, if I am not privy to special information and special consideration, then neither are they. Which means

dun dun DUN ...

Guess who is (almost) ready to let loose with the entry "Year-End Special, Issue #? - Biggest Fiasco Committed To Disc "?

Wait for it.

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.

never read or hardly wrote

My vacation is over. Boo. But I don't want to go back to work. I am clearly cut out for a life of leisure.

Also, I have a new favorite song. It's called "You and I Are a Gang of Losers" and it is the greatest great ever. And it is from my favorite album all year, The Dears' Gang of Losers — not to be confused with my favorite mixtape all year, Gay Pimp's This Is New York City, Bitch: The East Village Mixtape. I'll explain later. And there are more unsolicited year-end favorites to come. Get into it.

it only happens once a year

I was off from work today. I took a vacation day so that I could go out last night and see Kiki & Herb do an 11:30 p.m. show (that started mercifully on time) at Joe's Pub where they played some favorite holiday standards ("Frosty the Snowman," "Fox in the Snow/Holiday" and the nothing-says-Christmas-like "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer/ Smells Like Teen Spirit/ Suicide Is Painless" medley. Was there "Deep Inside"? Yes. Was there a Jean Grae song (Whoa. Kiki, who knew?) Yes. Did Kiki do the love theme from "The Eyes of Laura Mars" and "Cancer" by My Chemical Romance? YES! It was a hell of a show.

So yeah. And before that was an edge-of-my-hard-plastic-MSG-seat hockey game (we lost in overtime.) Plus a party on Saturday. So today I did very little. There was some post-office action, a little drugstore shopping, a nap and a later excursion to the vegetable market and the pizza place. Now bed, I think. It's time. I am so not looking forward to getting up at 4:30.

girl of an age

15 years ago today I went to my first general admission, standing-only show. It was EMF at Roseland, with Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine and Cop Shoot Cop opening. MTV News had recently done a long report on the crowd-surfing phenomenon, and my mother was horrified. But I went.

PS Dang, I'm old.

make it up yourself, you don't need anybody else

When I woke up this morning, there were two strange men in my house. And I'd only met one before. So we all went out to get breakfast on the corner. They went their way, me and Dollo went back home. The scandal.*

* Of course there is a very scandal-free explanation for this all, but that is boring, isn't it? Yes, it is.

PS Now I am obsessed with Pulp again. Thanks, Emma.

this could be your favorite song

February 1998: Favorite (or maybe second favorite, depends on the day) band writes a theme song on the spot for me me me. No wonder I'm miserable now. How do you top this?

Although, to be fair, tonight's glorious hockey game (4-0 win against the Stanley Cup champions, a big shutout for Henrik) was an absolute joy.

feels like one of those nights

I went out last night for a party and ended up at the wrong bar (Fat Black Pussycat instead of Fat Cat Billiards). The magic is that, despite my leaving my phone at home and having no idea where Fat Cat Billiards was, we got there in plenty of time for plenty of partying. And also had a nice time at the wrong bar. Overall, what a delight. On the way home, we didn't get a cab, though (I haven't been out in that neighborhood on a Saturday maybe ever). But we were home by 2:30 and that was good.

Today my favorite song is "Full Moon" by Brandy. Because it is wonderful and very fun for dancing as laundry is put away.

I put some more videos on YouTube.

Now I go visit El Fano, then to the hockey game. Will Jagr get his 600th goal tonight? I believe he will. Ooh baby.

PS LOOK! Henrik is on the cover of the New York Press.

tonight, and tonight only. whoo!

Here's another from the "Ding Dong... You're Wrong" video vault. I could write 400 books about this moment in time, this piece of a song, this lasting memory of a time when I loved one band more than most anything else in the world. But instead you can just watch it. Maybe you'll understand.

selling records being you but still you wanna be me

Coincidence, or a clear case of Jay sweating my technique? I can't say for sure. I wonder if he took his shot in the Bowery Ballroom basement bar also, or if that red is all after effects. Either way, I bet he didn't take that photo himself. Got you there, Hov. I'm talented, son.

cause a chick's gotta live

I'm still out, and I probably will still be out past midnight, so I'm trying to post this from afar. Still out at midnight? But don't you have
to work tomorrow at 6. Why yes. Yes I do. But as Missy says, a chick's
gotta live.

sorry love I'll have to turn you down

Overheard In The Office:

Co-worker: Lady Sovereign is the most disgusting person ever. She makes my wiener go away.

never bothered, never pressed

I was reading about the contents of the CMJ registration bag (to call it anything gift or swag-like is to joke) and I was remembering all the stupid crap I used to get — from CMJ, from NXNE, from Canadian Music Week.

Remember back when I was just a girl with some crazy ideas, I got to do things like go to a million shows for free? Now I have a job at MTV and don't get to do anything like that. I don't even get free CDs. What a bummer.

Anyway, I read about all these shows and adventures, and maybe it's my 18 months of sleep deprivation, but it doesn't even sound appealing to me anymore. I think, "Eew, people," which is just sad.

Dollo wants to go to a show tomorrow night, and it's early and in Williamsburg, and it's a band that [has one song that] I like. So that's probably a good way to not miss it altogether.

But right now, day 2, I'm in my pajamas in my kitchen, listening to the TV play "Easy Lover" at every single commercial break (thanks, "Grand Theft Auto: Miami Heat" or whatever the beep it's called) and glad I don't have 9 shows I'm supposed to hit tonight.

neon is my favorite color

In other news, I posted over at MOG about my current "Wolf Like Me" mania, and I posted another something in a secret place. Well, I can't give it all away here, loves. But if you know about the secret place and want to hear a really stupid story, there's two entries waiting.

I feel the storm, an old fury

I don't know how regular sports fans do it. Saturday night destroyed me. Two hellish losses. Ugh.

Another hockey night tomorrow. Wish us luck. Please. It's the Devils, and I just can't stand all the New Jersey fans in the stands. Punches may be thrown. I am a sore loser.

Yesterday I didn't leave the house (A tip: those karaoke lists don't type themselves. 800+ songs later, my wrist is still hurting). El Fano helped me preview the karaoke DVDs. We emoted through "Reunited," did steering wheel dance moves for "(You Drive Me) Crazy" and stumbled over Shaggy's "Angel." No drinks and still it was tons o' fun. Magic.

Then Mojito Loco. It had been a while, and the ceviche isn't going to eat itself.

I came home and checked out my MySpace page, which had decided for itself to insert a Sheila Divine video. It's like they knew I was experiencing a new bout of TSD mania. Wow. If you watch it (and you should) stick around for "to make Jane and Dollie cry!" and the ensuing giggles. You'd giggle too, jealous.

I dyed my hair dark, by the way. I think it might stick this time.

Also, work is going to be an amazing, exciting challenge of wonder and horror. So if you don't hear from me until Friday, you know why.

girl you better recognize the game

Today was a big bag of butt. A great giant sack of ass. I hated it. It was too busy, and I feel like I got nothing done (I'm still working now, in fact — well, not right now) and, here comes the goodest good part, I have to go out tonight.

What do I mean "have to"? I mean "HAVE TO!" for it is the Candy Butchers magical reunion show of greatness and magic. Did I mention that it's magic? It is. And that'd be fine, except that it starts at 11:30. That's PM. I have to get up at 4AM for work. I'm not sure that I'll even be home by 4AM.

So tomorrow may be the day I end my stint as a drug-free American. Or, you know, the day I drink lots of coffee. Followed at 4PM by four cocktails capped off with a 12-hour night's sleep, I hope. Yay!

pink is the color of her eyes

I've done a couple of super short posts over MOG yonder. (Big ups due to Emma, for reminding me I existed there.

You'll find talk of work (specifically You Tell Us, my sole reason to get up some mornings), Jay-Z, the Killers and, of course, Mr. T.

Of course! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make a big glass of something to help wipe away the memories of yet another too-long day.

better learn how to face it

That British study of what people want played at their funeral (I think I'm supposed to link to something here, but I'm tired) has all sorts of internet nerds talking about funeral songs. So here's mine, because, remember it's about who's left behind as much as it's about who's going:

• She's Gone - Hall & Oates
• Without You - Nilsson
• Here I Am Lord

Gorgeous.

I have a new plan for a book: When To Kill Yourself: A Practical Guide To Auto-Euthanasia, by Jane. Inspired by current events and an absolutely enraging episode of "Without a Trace" that I shouldn't have saved for tonight (evil murderous child molester kills himself — after he's abducted at least three kids and killed one). It's about the greater good, people. I'm fielding publishing offers and accepting advances now.

fry the contents of my head

So Dollie and I went to Toronto for a few days a couple of weeks back and had a nice time, mostly spending our days sitting in cafes and shopping, which was very relaxing and restorative. The nightlife was a little lacking -- I'm used to spending TO time at CMW or NXNE, with tons of rock shows to attend. Instead, Saturday night we spent at a wonderful karaoke night at our hotel. Sunday night we went to bed early. Monday night we went to a nice bar with 1/2 price drinks but no other patrons and swung by the sleepy Polaris prize afterparty on the way home. Tuesday night we saw Sloan. Riveting, yes? We tackled the Toronto transit system for the first time and were totally successful, of course. I do not enjoy the token/ticket system one bit (You MUST buy either 5 or 10? Why?) though I was completely won over by the streetcar drivers, who were all delightful.

So then we came home and promptly entered into high birthday season and all the dinners, dancing, presents, hockey games and Renaissance Faires that go along with.

Did I mention that I have 1/2 season tickets to the Rangers? Because I do. That should have been my birthday present to myself, but I decided to also buy myself a 37" LCD TV. Because I'm worth it. I also clearly miss that exciting paycheck-to-paycheck lifestyle, which I've put myself right back into thanks to the Toronto trip, Rangers tickets and TV splurges. At least I have another month or so before the birthdays pick up again. Now let's just hope I don't get fired anytime soon.

Speaking of fired, tomorrow is going to be pure hell at work. Yippee!

Hey, remember Mojito Loco? Still my favorite. I haven't missed a week since my first visit. One week I went three times. For serious. Have you been yet? If not, why not? Go! I'm going myself in about an hour. That is just how I must roll.

I am having deep music conflicts, big time favorite band trouble. I don't recommend it.

This year's birthday plan: Karaoke house party.

And if you aren't totally caught up now, you're at least very close.

we'll find our place in this world if it takes all day and all night

Good God. I just pounded, in a frenetic, excited drumming motion, on my kitchen counter, where my life is lived — where the computer hums and the iced tea pours and the unopened mail piles up and the bananas brown. I did this because I put in the Dears album that I bought in Toronto (story to follow), and "Hate Then Love" started and I realized that my #1 all time favorite song ever (the "You could try to break my heart song") is that one. It is. It is on the record. I have it forever. My life is a wonder.

don't you know who I was?

We're going to Toronto/ We're going to stay here/ To see -- who knows? A Sloan show, mostly/ And something la la la

OH! Shake it shake it shake it! Etc.

So yeah, I'm going to Toronto. The last time I went to Toronto was April 2003, in the middle of SARS. Because I'm awesome like that.

Before that was August 2001, and I remember when we went in 2003, we couldn't believe how long we'd stayed away. Well, we beat that by a lot. So now we go back. Who knows if anything we like is still there?

Probably all of the Toronto Film Fest famous folk will be gone or nearly by the time I arrive on Saturday, which is just as well. I prefer to be the most notable celebrity in every room.

In other news, I keep trying to make brown hair, but it keeps turning light again. I am sad about it. Shoe polish will be my next move. Look out!

this is a city for not sleeping

As I left my office tonight, after my sexy 14.5 hour day (not bad!), I walked out into Times Square, smack dab in the middle of a huge crowd gathered to watch Shakira do her thing on the MTV big screen. I have to say, it was a wonderful sight.

Then I took too long to get home (thank you L train), booked from Bedford Ave to my gorgeous apartment (well, I think so) with a smile on my face, cracked open a Magners and turned on the shower -- good and hot.

I tore through "Moonlight Mile" and Staind's version of the Beetlejuice song (Must. Update. Playlist), a capella'd a little "So Far Away" (why not?) dried off, worked a comb through my hair and moisturized while dancing to "Angel of Harlem" in the bathroom (I never said I was cool, just fantastic.)

It was a good day. It's a good night. I thought I'd better put that out there to remember this tomorrow, when I'm yelling and crying. Because tomorrow is going to be an early day and a tough day, but the good kind of tough. I hope. And then a three-day weekend. Delight.

be delicious and still be influential

We went to a new restaurant last night. I fear new restaurants. What if they are terrible and it was my idea to go? That is a nightmare. But we have a friend from out of town staying with us, and while she is here it is best to go to places she has not been before.

Because of this (and my unwavering obsession with strawberry mojitos) we went to a place in the Williamsburg/ Bushwick environs called Mojito Loco.

It was delightful.

We started out with the gorgeous fruit mojitos (our table had two raspberries, a blueberry and my strawberry) — though the fresh watermelon margarita was very tempting — and ceviche (we punked out and got non-spicy). Magic. They also give your table plaintain chips when you sit.

Remember when Black Betty gave you pre-food food — what is that called, anyway — well, now they don't. I'm also tired of getting attitude there. I am an easy customer and a good tipper. Why the shade? Seriously, last weekend the server was such a beast that when three of us ordered the same thing (food and cocktail) she got annoyed. Um, that's easier for you, you stupid bitch.

Anyway, at Mojito Loco, depite ordering 11 labor intensive cocktails — PS Did I mention that the second round was a happy hour freebie? — the woman helping us was delightful, and also the owner/manager/chef/whatever (I'm not sure of her exact role, but she's clearly running things) came over to seat us, tell us about specials, check on how our food was and invite us to an upcoming event.

The four of us got out of there at just over $100 (with 11 drinks!) and I will go back soon for sure.

So there's a new Sloan song, in addition to the one on their MySpace page. It's called "Fading Into Obscurity," and I can't tell if it was sent out to every Sloan fan or just a random sampling. But I am permitted to share it with friends, so says the note, so if we are friends (I think we are) and you want to hear it (I think you do), hit me up.

clear thoughts tied in black and blue knots

From Flaming Pablum. I think I am supposed to tag others, but I'd love for us all to have less pressure in our lives. If you want to do this, go for it.
FIVE THINGS....
...I don't understand:
1. the use of the singular "pant" when speaking of clothes that cover legs
2. people who push their way on to the train as others are trying to get out
3. why there is still no way for me to teleport
4. the religious right's take on Christianity
5. how the National Enquirer gets it right so often

...I bought on eBay:
1. Joel Plaskett's famous orange cowboy shirt
2. Cod Can't Hear featuring Sloan's "A Case of You"
3. discontinued favorite bra - as many "NWT"s as I can find
4. a brown replacement for my blue corduroy Wrangler jacket
5. Guys Next Door promo box

...I have but do not want:
1. a sunburn
2. anemia
3. an exciting, challenging, enviable job
4. a huge broken printer on my kitchen counter
5. dirty laundry

...I want but do not have:
1. room on my DVR for VH1 Classic's reairing of the first 24 hours of MTV
2. a drivers' license
3. my own house
4. a dog
5. a large iced coffee

Oh, now I have the iced coffee! Thanks, Dollo.

coming up only to hold you under

Today I love "The Alternative." Right now (well, at 2 in the morning, I'm just watching it now) they are playing "Everywhere That I'm Not" by Translators. Now that is alternative. Good work!

If you were on "Rock Star: Supernova," what would you sing? The show is obsessed with the mid-1990s, so I would totally do "Possum Kingdom" from the Toadies -- which I insist on calling "So Help Me Jesus" and/or "Do You Wanna Die?" because that is funny to me, like how I call TV movies by their plot ("My Dad, Robert Urich, Killed My Mom, Joanna Kerns Only I Didn't Believe he Did It, But Now I Do"). Also it reminds me of someone I used to work with who honestly thought that Nirvana's "Sliver" was really called "Grandma Take Me Home," also totally funny.

I have a new favorite song. It is called "The Funeral" and it is from Band of Horses. It is totally creepy and I love it. You can hear it!

Hey, did you know that everyone's favorite friends, Sloan, have a new song? They do. It's on their MySpace page. Also The Veils have a new song on their MySpace page. It's a good time to be me.

Well, maybe not so much. But I do go on vacation for a few days next week and that is just fantastic.

wake up girl, don't be a daydreamer

Is "The Bridge" the greatest show ever? Yes, it is. They just played "Sally Got a One-Track Mind." I live.

Speaking of — and I know I say this constantly, but ... — you really need to listen to the Gay Pimp podcast. This week's episode is wonderful but last week's was a revelation in high-concept genius. Jonny McGovern described his magical gay wedding featuring Martha Wash in a wedding dress and Aretha Franklin and Jonny's intended duetting on "Knew You Were Waiting For Me" as they walk down the aisle (seriously, if that doesn't get you to support same-sex marriage, I don't know what will).

Then it got better. How? I'm not sure I can even explain, but talk of Britney's "I'm country!" led to Linda James, I believe, saying "that went out with 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer' " (that's one of the most amazing things ever said, clearly), which turned into Britney singing "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and then an anti-paparazzi Christmas album and then and then and then — by the end, Nick Lachey was dating Mrs. Claus. It was like a dream, really.

Oh, "The Bridge." Again. Another thing I love about it is the little "411" boxes that pop up. For example, "Though the Young Black Teenagers claimed their group name was simply a tribute to the black culture they loved and identified with, many found it ridiculous and/or offensive." Ahahaha! Indeed.

Here's a place to watch some more videos. Why? Because I love you.

I'm frontin', and I don't care if you know

I'm having a cocktail now, a mixture of my own creation (well, my own naming, at least). It's The Beast, and it is raspberry vodka (it's Vox tonight, but whatever you have will do), cranberry juice and grapefruit juice. It is a delight. Try one today!

The VH1 countdown is currently on my TV — because I was going to watch "Play It as It Lays" but thought better of that before a night out, and VH1 Classic (the go-to choice) isn't playing videos right now — and Rihanna was just on, with "Unfaithful" and whoa, that song is dramatic. It's not that big a deal, lady.

Also, I just do not get the appeal of that Nelly Furtado song, yet I cannot deny the awful Pussycat Dolls when it comes to "Buttons." That song just has something. Could be that I'm a sucker for a track about fronting.

Today I just cannot get out of my mind that Sloan party Microsoft thing in Minneapolis last year. I wish I was at it right now. Instead I go see the Walkmen play down the street. That'll do.

just when I thought that we were winning

Today really sucked. I almost cried. I have once at work, just once, and it was because I hate Michael Jackson. Today I just had had it. I came in early, at 5:30, because I thought there may be some extra news this morning. There wasn't really, but there's always so much to do. There was lots to do at 5:30 and 6:30 and every :30 until 4:30, at which point I left.

Then I came home and there was a bug. A bug. I do not like bugs. When I saw the bug, I was playing my answering machine. On it, some dude who did not even say who he was or where he was calling from said it was important that I return his call "on an immediate basis." Seriously? Clearly, I told him (or, his voice on the answering machine) that he could blow me on an immediate basis. So yeah, back to the bug. I killed it, but then he had like 4 friends. It was not OK. I work and work and come home and curse out weird people on my answering machine and all I want is to drink iced tea in peace, but no. Then I have to deal with bugs. F-ing bugs.

I got an email from myself today, one of those reminder dealies, and it reminded me that Belle & Sebastian's cover of Rod Stewart's "Baby Jane" came out today, which I love because of the Jane and because it is great. The real song, I mean. I hadn't heard the cover. And good luck hearing it, because iTunes is hating on my Americanness. Haters. I found it on some strange German site or something. They had a preview. That was enough. I liked it, but I wanted to hear the real one and sing along. Loud. I did. I live.

now it's your turn to cry

I'm finally watching that Britney Spears special (um, it's my job) and I don't think I'm having the right reaction. First of all, I'm totally angry that they -- who are "they"? I don't know, but they're getting paid a fortune! -- let her go on TV looking like that. Her weave is a mess, she's got false eyelashes melting off and a see-through shirt on. Plus the gum. This would be acceptable and expected if she weren't a billionaire who is paying people a ton of money to manage her career. And then I'm feeling sad for her. Can't they just leave her in peace with her family, happy or miserable or whatever? Oh, I'm such a sap.

second verse, out of breath

This is a week of butt.

First Kevin Aviance gets gay bashed. In the East Village. By a group of punk-ass bitches who apparently didn't get the memo that "Bloods" and "Crips" (please, Bloods and Crips in NY is so ridiculous anyway) aren't supposed to hang out together (um, hi) ganging up on lone men.

And then Dan Abrams becomes the GM of MSNBC (what does that even mean -- also dig the hate in The Washington Post article. Dude.) and doesn't have a show anymore.

Dear World, You Suck. Love, Jane

writing to reach you

Dollie's suggested letter for me to send to Don McKellar:

Dear Don McKellar,
I have, in the past, overlooked the severe lazy eye of Chris Murphy (after he won a Juno), and it enables me to overlook your similar shortcoming. I was going to approach you back at the "Childstar" premiere at BAM, but you were not nearly accomplished enough to attract me. Now that you've added a Tony and a Drama Desk Award to your mantle, I am now ready to consummate my newfound attraction.

Gold, baby. Gold.

can I go nowhere with you?

While waiting for the bus today (Oh God, I hate doing this. This is why I walk the 70 miles from the train. But I forgot an umbrella today, so bus it was), I had an incredibly vivid fantasy featuring a boy that I like (Who I really have to give up liking. I haven't even seen him in 30 forevers now). It was totally hot. He drove by and stopped and drove me home. And that was it. I have very sexy fantasies.

I was watching that Springsteen at London something concert (it is very famous) on channel 21 (though I have the DVD) and I'm pretty sure that "Backstreets" is my all time favorite song. Over "Against All Odds"? Yes. Topping even "Backstabbin'" -- oh no, I can't even finish that joke. Yes. "Backstreets" is #1. It has an alluring (ooh!) intro, a big finale, yelling and also that repeating part. Everything I like. Fantastic.

Speaking of fantastic, I present the Gay Pimp podcast. You have to listen. All day, every day. Listen and tell me I am wrong. You can't. I wish it were more than once a week. This week they talk about having a whole station. I would listen. I would give up sleeping to listen. I would quit my job to listen. I can't get enough.

What is up with that "Jane Fonda" song? I kind of love it. Maybe it is very old, I only know it from looking up "jane fonda" on YouTube.com (don't ask) and it made me laugh.

Dan Abrams just said, "It does make me feel yuck." I live.

my white diamonds always bring me luck

I shouldn't be writing inane stories. I should be cleaning. But I don't want to clean, so I will tell my inane stories.

Friday was 10 years since I met Dollo, so Dollo took me to 21 for steak and creme brulee and something they call a Bee's Knees which is a cocktail made of rum and cardamom-infused honey and something else, who knows, it was fantastic. Then it took us two hours to get home thanks to the rain, which cut off service on the East side. Also, some "debris on the tracks" issue cut out the downtown yellow trains as well. Please. So we took a bus down to 14th St and then a cab home. Because I got it like that.

Saturday I did my laundry. I walked into the laundromat and walked right out and a lady came after me. "Some of these machines are done. I'm gonna take the clothes out of them. People leave their clothes, I take them out." Well alright. She didn't have to because some other girl happened to be pulling her clothes out. So I put in my clothes, walked outside, got on the phone with El Fano to tell him that wherever we'd end up spending the night, it has to be at a bar "that isn't full of white people. I hate white people" which didn't even get hardly a shrug from the people standing out front of my non-white laundromat. See, they know. When it came time to dry the clothes, I was out of luck and had to drag my wet bag home. It was drizzling, so I couldn't even use the line. So I had to drape things over things throughout the house. There. Were. Clothes. Everywhere. Later on, Dollo put my jeans in the oven so I could wear them out.

But before that we went to the movies. I had to see "The Break-Up" obviously. It was like a dream, really. Well, not really. It was mostly really funny for like an hour and then got weirdly half serious like a TV movie. And the crowd was odd because they laughed a lot at many things, but no one found the old "You might get arrested." "For what, being awesome?" line as truly fantastic as it truly is. Whatever.

Then we went to Unos. Because I love chain restaurants and their cheesy drinks, f- all y'all. And it was lovely.

Then I was too early for my haircut so I went to the friendly neighborhood gay bar for more cocktails.

Then came the haircut at my very delightful, very rock and roll haircut place, where I got a magnificent haircut. It's a little big today, but that is because I left the house with it soaking wet. When I got home I put in some product, and now it is like a dream. Really.

But back to Saturday. After the haircut it was time to meet up with folks to celebrate this 10th anniversary of meeting Dollo and Lola and Seana. Seana is busy being a mom/rock star in Texas, so she couldn't come. Other people were stuck doing other things like falling down the stairs and fighting with their husbands (this was not the same person, so don't worry), but Dollo, El Fano, Lola, LMD and LMD's lovely friend from work brought it hard. We went to one nice place with a very nice bartender of fun, but there was nowhere to dance. So we left.

Then we went to Eastern Bloc, which had a pretty pretty DJ who played pretty pretty dancy pop songs and all was well. Then some indie rock snore came in to play indie rock snore tracks, the lamest ever go-go boy neither went nor went and we got some from-afar attitude from a little group of Howard Beach-looking 20-something queens and their ugly hags. Please. I had to announce that I could smell the New Park Pizza coming off them and they were fooling no one, also that I couldn't believe I was getting shade from the Lollipop Guild. It was time to go.

So we moved on to the Pyramid, where a desperate-seeming promoter was frankly stunned that we agreed to come in. The place was empty, but the cave was begging for a dance. So we danced. And more people arrived. And when the DJ (who was contractually obligated to play our requests, so said the promoter) wasn't playing our requests, we started growing cranky. I decided it would be super funny to junior prom slow dance to the frenetic sounds of "The Metro" by Berlin, but it is nearly impossible to do this without laughing, which set off El Fano (we were junior prom slow dancing after all, he could feel me laughing), so then I came up with this great '80s cocaine jitters dance, but nobody really appreciated how great it was.

This is all my long way of saying it was just like old times, of me drinking too much and trying to get in a fight and dancing and being a jerk. I loved it.

how could our love be so blind?

So I'd planned not to vote for "American Idol," first citing journalistic objectivity, then because I hated everyone. But now I only hate one, and it's Katharine. The bitch doesn't even know how to spell her name, plus she thinks she is the truth. She is not. Did you hear her today when she got lippy with the judges? "You guys are so hard on me these past few weeks." None answered, "It's because you have been sucking," but they should have. I remember when my brother's 8th grade graduation song was "I Believe I Can Fly" (mine was "One Moment in Time," because I am old) those kids did a better job.

Anyway, my point is, "American Idol" is trying to keep me down for they will not accept my texts for Elliott. They are hating on me and on him, and I hate it. It is a conspiracy.

Seriously, you know I hate Katharine (and love Elliott) even if I am voting for Elliott when he flipped the lines in "Open Arms." I do not play around with Journey.

Also, go on Taylor. It needs to be a Taylor / Elliott finale. Because that's what America is: Kind of weird and not very attractive but better than some slut with a high opinion of herself who spends an inordinate amount of time on the floor. It's like I'm saying.

Also, does "Try a Little Tenderness" always always ALWAYS remind you of that Tender Vittles (I think?) commercial. "You may get weary/ Cat owners do get weary opening can after smelly can ... Why mess with that mess? Try a little tenderness!" I'm telling you, when your first experience with a song is a commercial, it's dangerous. Just wait until kids start singing "It's crumb-elievable" and you will know.

PS "Oreo Big Stuf! Who do you think you are?"

it's enough to make you celibate

I hate to be giving away my secrets (especially ones that were given to me by special someones), but I just have to share this. I don't know if you read Crunk + Disorderly, but it has become my favorite anything ever. I laugh, I love, I live. For serious.

Why just this afternoon, in a post titled "Have You F-ed With Your Shoes On Today," Fresh wrote:
"Am I the only person who is annoyed at mixtape DJ's who insist on shooting me before the beginning of a new song? My nerves are already bad as hell, I don't need Pro Tool bullets. If it's not that they're cussing you out. Negro I thought I was helping you out." The Trina/ Rick Ross comments that follow are also spot on.

Crunk + Disorderly, I salute you.

kill me. kill me now

ARGH! This is my saddest day. Why is because that !!! is a real band. May they choke on it. Love, Jane.

PS If you like !!!, I have three tickets to their show for you. Yes, you have to pay me for them.

but I didn't commit no crime

Your Horoscope For May 26, 2004: The secret to surviving this difficult day lies in not taking on more than you are capable of handling. Don’t make promises without careful consideration.

That is not a very promising horoscope. Yesterday's was butt as well.

Last night I had, for the first time in years, I'd say, a dream where people were nice to me. Honestly, every dream I ever remember has people I know and love in real life being very mean to me. I have a sleep-induced persecution complex. Ooh, there was that one dream where Josh Hartnett cancelled a party to play pinball with me. I bet somewhere else in that dream someone was mean, though.

Anyway, in this good dream, this boy from high school (who is now married and who I haven't seen in 8 years or so) sent me a ticket to some really hard to get into Cure concert. He sent it via express mail, which was weirdly instant rather than express, as the delivery man handed it to me as I walked out of a library (?) where I had just bought tickets (which had just gone on sale that very second) myself. So I had all these Cure tickets, all to the same show. Which was kind of bad luck, since there were like 10 shows. But it was good luck that the tickets were way cheaper than I thought. And a funny thing in the package from Man was a note saying, "I tried to get you Joel Plaskett's autograph, but Joe Simpson [his friend, I guess?] screwed it up. Sorry!"

And I laughed when I read it, because, dude, I don't really need Joel Plaskett's autograph.

Yes, it was magic.

This is a dumb story, but I thought it was pretty exciting to not have anyone be anything but nice to me in a dream.

You'd think I'd wake up to a job, but not so much. I woke up to my internet access being out and a zillion things to do, but it worked out fine.

Work out fine! Ahaha! Oh man.

OK, maybe now I go to bed.

Oops, I forgot the most interesting part.

"Don't you always. I certainly hope so," you are thinking.

"Fuck you," I am saying.

No, but really. So in the Village Voice, someone named "!!!" is playing on 6/18 at the Bowery Ballroom. And so we think that can't be a band name (watch, I am totally out of it and they are the hottest thing) and instead it means, "Ooh secret show!" So if it is a band name, I'm seeing them 6/18, because I had to get tickets. It might be any number of magical awesomes who I love. I wonder when I find out.