This is my first version of the catatonics poster. Go see them! they are super awesome.

But yeah, that was my trip. I came home dirty and exhausted. This weekend was much better. The stress of trading real money has caused huge carbuncles to erupt just under the skin of my chin--you can't see them, but they feel horribly painful. But Saturday i went all the way to Australia via "Outback Steakhouse" to have a lovely, conversation-filled dinner with Alan, Bonnie, and Khris, where we discussed Monica's wedding, religion, and "Chaotic"--the atrocious Britney Spears documentary.

Now, no one loves a celebrity car crash better than me-i live for them. But it only works if a celebrity does something human while remaining inhuman. There are some people--Russell Crowe, Nicole Kidman, Paul Banks--that fascinate, people that you want to know legitimately, behind the veil of celebrity. There are some stars though, that exist entirely because of the sheen, what Rushdie called the golden aura. In real life, these individuals are so incredibly stupid, so grotesque, coarse, and immature, that when they are stripped of their aura, you simply never want to see these individuals again. This is why "Trippin'" is such a horrible idea. We thought Cameron Diaz and Drew Barrymore were cute. We now know that they are selfish, emotionally and spiritually vapid people without any sense in their heads. Now, many of us have suspected something similar to this all along--but it isn't really until Drew Barrymore whines about "taking a crap in the woods" of a rainforest that we realize we never want to see her again. The same with Britney in Chaotic. I don't ever want anything to do with this indivudal again. Her life is wide open, and what a pathetic life it is. She has lost her sheen, and she needed it more than anyone, since she was all sheen, all product--she is naturally chubby, ugly, dumb, and marginally talented. That's the real britney. She should have thought about that maybe when introducing the world to the real her.

Anyway, I got to stop by Condom Sense to look for items for Monica's bachelorette party. I've never actually been in one before, so I had a fabulous time picking my way through novelty penis paraphenalia. For such a large store, most of it was quite lame--it was really only the back of the store that had any real bits of interest for me: all the vinyl i could shake a stick at, collars, stockings, garters, whips, chains, handcuffs, whatever. It was a painful reminder to me that my assets are not being taken advantage of properly. I mean, look at me, look at us--the girls of the CM. We are rolling, soft girls--large breasts, beautiful hips, small waists, nice faces. Sure, our weight fluctuates, but our overall shape is pretty knockout. Every day we are not having sex is a wasted day, evolutionarily. It is not right that we are not being ravaged often, by men who know how. There is too much injustice in the world.

And nowhere did that become more obvious than at the bowling alley we went to next. In the lane next to me was a group of black guys--already, my night was that much better--but then, to make stellar eye candy even better, there amongst them was THE most gorgeous black boy I have ever seen--even cuter than the lead singer for the Bloc Party. He had on a little Led Zepplin shirt, tight jeans, black frame glasses, and had his hair messed up just so. I kept shooting him crazy eye signals, but I had to stop myself. What was the point? He wasn't Mormon, and I was just going to find myself chasing down another boy I can't afford to get emotionally close to. I am thinking of stealing Anne's moniker of mormonicequeen.

Saw "wit" with Emma Thompson today--the movie about the Donne professor who dies of ovarian cancer. My mom and I were hystical with crying--especially when Thompson's mentor comes in after no one has visited her during her entire stay at the hospital. And Thompson is to worn out to hear anymore Donne, and so instead, her mentor girls up with a book called "runaway rabbit." I haven't cried that hard in ages. What else did I see recently? "Sorority Boys"--pleasent suprise, though wicked stupid. And "Episode III" was pretty frickin' rad--it made me upset that more wasn't done with I & II.

I wish I could be profound right now, but I haven't been able to feel anything in days. I've been working feverishly on ideas for the new catatonics posters. I should have them by wednesday at the latest, ladies. Quick question--without looking, are we thinking rocknroll cheeky, scripty and victorian, or classically roman? I've got all of them--which is most appealing?

The trip back was even more hellish then the one out. We had 8 hours, but the kids had used up almost all of their sources of entertainment from the drive up. They evolved, like "Lord of the Flies" into building forts and painting themselves. I was attacked while sleeping--i woke up to find my ankles and hp hips covered in strange flowers and swirls. Julia wrote on her own stomach-- a bit of an hommage to Garden State, you might say

I continued to ruin shots for Julia for the majority of Sunday.In this one, she wanted us to model against the wall, as if we were on a UPN show. I did my best to looked unsexy. "A model...idiot?" Jordan looks pretty hot though.

It turns out my extended family loves dave chappelle. Who would have guessed?

Don't let the backlot fool you--this restaurant had a line out the door

Carrie showed me her geneology research, which I double checked and found completely legitimate and accurate. In a move of historical irony, I am descended from Ramses I and Marcus Aurelius. Most of the Dark Age kings/viking lords of scandanevia are related to me, King Alfred, so basically, a whole host of kings and emporers. Then by the 16th century, I'm related to the Castille branch of Dukes, and the Dudleys in England. Then by the 19th century, we're all like, John Miller and the redfoot tribe.

We all went back to Trimble to see grandma and grandpa, who are reaching a stage of dormancy in their aging development where leaving the house has become too much of a hassle. Grandpa wore out his knees paving most of the highways in kansas city, and as such can barely move around the house. He has recently discovered the joys of the Rascal (tm). Dad and I took it for a spin. That sucker has mean pick up. I'm thinking I should get one and never walk again. Not like I walk all that much now anyway, but man does that sucker zip!

Randall is my mother's brother. He goes to Sturgis nearly every year. I both fear him and admire him. Though you cannot tell from this photo, he is almost 6'7" tall. He can break men like pork crisps.

Met with my father and my Randall at In-a-Tub, this hideous-but-good greasy spoon 'mexican' 'restaurant' where everything is deep fried and covered in neon orange 'cheese' powder.

After breakfats we drove over 30 miles to the next biggest town (ooooooohhhhh, over 3,000!) to do some warehouse discount shoppingwhile dad and randall did who knows what else.

So anyway, you get the idea.

She also has a habit of stealing my phone and reading my messages, so I had to scale back the number of highly scandalous and sketchy text messages I?ve been receiving this week, which has been a great loss to me, as such messages are often the only thing keeping my libido in check.

We get into Smithville, Missouri at 2 in the morning Saturday, and 7 hours later, we meet grandpa and grandma for breakfast at the MacDonalds down the road. My grandpa is Cherokee, my grandma is swiss.

mary, look sexy!

mary, get excited!

I?m Tony Sinclair?.

Not really. But I sort of wish I was.

Last week dad decided to strong arm a trip to Kansas City. All it did was make me put on 3 pounds in three days and get a migraine from the yelps of the children as Julia threw CD players at them in the backseat.

Traveling with my family has always been a bit difficult, since I am a ?reader? and they are ?talkers?. This means that I will be trying to read a book or listen to music and then, five minutes later, a child, usually the one closest to my age, pops her head on my shoulder and asks ?so whatcha doin?? before hitting the book out of my hands and yelling that I never spend any time with the family. In the past, Margaret filled this role more than adequately, but recently Julia has more than amply stepped up to the plate.

Julia got a new camera for her birthday, so every spare moment I?m not be interrupted I?m being part of her ?candid car movements? series, or her ?road trip fun? montage, which I have the habit of ruining by doing something obnoxious in each of the photos-sad when she wants happy, angry when she wants cute, but more often then not, perplexed. Observe:

12. I've reached my lowest 7-day total since I started keeping track. Somebody give me a frickin cookie.

No seriously. I'm hungry.

Something miraculous happened and I got an A in torts.

I'd like to thank Alcohol for being by my side through all of this, and I'd like to thank my homeboys, Prosser, Wade and Schwartz.

hitting new lows! 15.5

Schuba's Photobooth

Adele Joel and Lakshmi in the Schuba's photobooth before the Mary Timony show

Telenovela sticker. It kind of makes me laugh and kind of freaks me out.

reciting the alphabet backwards: 18.

That's progress, I guess.

I'm really glad Pitchfork gave S-K's The Woods a good review. It's fucking awesome. Go watch the video for "Entertain" (the song I was quoting from yesterday) here. That'll give you a little energy for the morning.

If you're here 'cause you want to be entertained, please look away.

There's a reason comments have been turned off on this site for a long time. The purpose of this weblog always has been primarily cathartic. We don't link out much; we don't write carefully crafted political or social commentaries; we don't really seek to entertain. The CM is a place where Mary, Anne and I kind of throw it all out there, fifty readers or none. The three of us have always felt free to use this space for what we needed it for at the time -- emoting, complaining, trying to get a handle on our drinking habits (20 by the way). Maybe that's why it's always worked best as a one way conduit. That's kind of how I like it. Frankly, I don't read all of Anne's posts. But, heck, I know I've contributed my fair share of ramblings, and I reserve the right to ramble again in the future.

1-2-3. If you want to take a shot at me, well get in line.

One other note:

I really want all of you to check out this awesome Chicago band called Telenovela. They opened for Mary Timony last night and they were fantastic.

I was all excited that anyone had actually bothered to comment on one my posts...but then I read the comments. *oh* Fair enough, I guess. I'm on a different trajectory from Mary and Adele, and everyone else I can think of who would read the cm. It ought to be Lakshmi posting here now.

It's just easier to keep posting and pretending like I'm part of a post-NU group. To have some presence...even if it's not actively recognized. I know that people don't really read any of my posts, or that when they do, they wish that they were reading something written by Adele or Mary. But I also know that, if I started my own blog, no one would read it. Because I'm not part of the post-NU group. And it seems better to be ignored - or resented, even - than be forgotten.

During my nap this afternoon, I dreamt that I was going to hook-up with Ian from SurvivorPalau. *weird* I was rudely awoken by some friends of mine having a loud discussion on the lawn beneath my window. They were freaking out over an exam that's tomorrow morning, just like me:

I am going to have a heart attack over this exam...but I'm so fucked!! I remember why I elected to subject myself to this module, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into. There's a greater chance of me becoming Miss Universe than passing this exam tomorrow morning. *fuck fuck fuck*

So: should I stay up all night cramming in the vain hopes that my brain won't miss the sleep until after the exam is finished and that I'm capable of cramming enough of this impossible material into my short-term memory to earn 40 points tomorrow. Or admit defeat this time around and fill my exam paper with doodles tomorrow...and start studying for the August re-sit exam as soon as I get back from Egypt, since I surely can master 40 points worth of this material if I have two months to do it.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
hate hate hate Nottingham

But I should be able to do this. It all hinges upon the bloody quantitative question. If I can pull 30 points out of that one, then I'm good. Anything less than 30 points, then I fail the whole thing. But - - 30 points?!?! That's a lot of pointage!! I'd have to get all of the calculations right (and I'll either get futures or money-markets wrong) AND be able to explain at least one of them. And I can't. At work, I've started using the calculator to ADD. My brain is tired and lazy.

Why can't a question on the exam ask about Saturday's FA Cup Final...I could get 40 points off that easily!! Because I watched it instead of study. Because football is better than finance. Just like ManU is better than Arsenal...even if the end result didn't reflect it. Championship matches shouldn't be decided in penalty shoot-outs, just like module marks shouldn't be decided by exams.

Dear Angelina Jolie,
I love you. You are the most beautiful woman in the United States of America and the Republic to which it stands

I do not trust men who cannot/do not find Angelina Jolie attractive. She is visually so close to perfection, so lovely and sensual, that when a man rejects her, it becomes tantamount to saying "I don't like woman." He is rejecting the best of us, and therefore, must be attracted to the stragglers and those who are beneath him. He cannot appreciate the woman on the pedestal. Which is fine, that's his choice. But I won't trust him. It's a bit like my lifelong distrust of men who date women who cover their mouths when they laugh.

temperance movement: 22

I can't believe how much I did and how little I slept this weekend. Heroic amounts of going out. Also did some stuff for work. Had fun w/ my dad. Spent many, many hours w/ Lakshmi. Now, once again, I'm back at it -- ready to take on five more days of labor!

I'm really glad big hair still hasn't come back. Or triangle blush. Those two things should stay in the '80s.

Oh my. Just checked my messages for the first time since Friday.

Joel says (among many other things):
I'm dipping my toes in the depths of the universe.

My dad and I blew the top off that one yesterday: 25.


The Catatonics have two big shows upcoming: June 25 at the Red Line Tap and June 30 at The Big Horse Lounge. These will be our first shows with our fab. drummer. They should be fun.

Um. I'm at work on a Saturday because I didn't get enough done this week. sigh. I just want to space out.

I'll be going to kansas city for the weekend. expect a full photo dossier on the horrors of my birthplace and my disgruntled half-indian family.

i love the catatonics. I am wicked jealous of their mad skills.

No use in lying to myself: 19

I am discombobulated. My brain needs to hibernate for a couple of weeks. I keep telling it "no" but it fights me every step of the way.
People really need to get better at drawing the line between cool and sucks.

Tally: 18

The Catatonics are recording a "real" demo. It's going to be sweet. Adam is really good at what he does. Check out his studio (and a funny picture of him with dyed-black hair) here. We worked until almost 2 a.m. Actually Adam worked; Lakshmi and I lounged around and read Maxim and made fun of Adam. Adam's roommate fed us some really good pasta. It was such a fun night.

And then it was raining like a mofo on the way home.

This morning, I had an unrealisticly romantic dream about my hometown that made me want to be there intensely for about ten seconds.

Today, I am wearing a lawyer costume.

Tonight is more music.

While reading online news today, I learned: A huge wandering iceberg is tearing up the Antarctic like a slow-moving bull in a frozen China shop.

This is wrong on so many levels--not to mention the least of which is China, not china. Brava, Yahoo! news team. Brava.

Tally: 24.

Expressions I made up and now over-use:

Been through it. As in, "You look like you've really been through it today." I'm dropping the "wringer" part of the original expression. I don't know if this makes sense.

Ho-ly! Instead of holy shit, holy cow, holy moly. Now I just say "ho-ly" as two highly pronounced syllables as an expression of mild disbelief or being impressed.

I really like guacamole.

I'm waffling, but my instinct is telling me not to go. What's $500 here or there anyway...*argh*...two weeks wages, but from a part time job. I like favourable exchange rates. But seriously. I'm simply don't want to go enough to put up with all of the hassle and additional expenditure the trip would entail. I'd rather stay here, and rest, and go to work...and have a decent nest-egg built up in my UK bank account by the end of the summer. It isn't as if the pyramids are going to blow away, or up and move to somewhere I can't visit later on. And the bombings! My Nottingham life may be a bit bleak, but not so bleak that I want my limbs - or head - blown off.

I shouldn't be thinking about this now anyway. I've got an essay due in ten hours, and I'm woefully low in the word count and references departments. And haven't slept much in the past two days. And have had an impossible amount of sugar and PepsiMax today. But once this is all over - "this" being the year's second gauntlet of trivial academic essays and hellish exams - I just want a break. Not an expensive, stressful, dangerous two week pain in the ass.

I've just watched FindingNeverland (instead of working on the essay...how could I turn down an invitation involving JohnnyDepp AND DoubleStuffOreos) and it simultaneously made me want to be 20 again and back in an ArlingtonHeights where my cat is still alive and it's always Spring and when I come home every afternoon my mother and Char are in the backyard waiting for me and there are flowers and vegetables and fruits growing everywhere and everything is perfect and I'm happy. But I'm not. And those things are gone. Academic qualifications and caffeine are poor substitutes. And I've somehow strained my left calf muscle. And I miss crawling into bed at night and being able to sleep. How ironic that, at the times in my life when I most need a good night's sleep, I'm unable to get it. I can turn off all of the lights, but I can't turn off my mind. And it never shuts-up. So I never really rest. I figure that, at this point, I may as well have all the Pepsi in Nottingham, because I'd be up all night anyway. Why not use the time productively?

Final tally: 22.

I'm done with my first year of law school. The relief? Not quite as sweet as advertized. I'm tired.

secrets from postsecret that I should have sent:

I'm hotter than Nevada--ready to break the steering column of your Impala.

Every once in a while, there is a really good day, a really good weekend, that keeps you from running away and hiding under a bridge. I had a very fabulous, very surreal past couple of days which has helped bolster my medication-free mood. You know, my reluctance to be on medication has nothing to do with shame or with a mistaken idea that medication is 'unhealthy'. Rather, it is becoming more clear that I am battling a lifelong problem of inherited imbalance. I recognize that it will become increasingly hard to provide the chemicals myself, and that one day, I will need to be on medication permanently. Since brains build up resistance to SSRI's, I want to put off the start of such a rotation for as long as I can.

Russ took me out to see "Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy" on Thursday. I made the mistake of assuming that Russ had actually read the book which, of course, he hadn't. He thought it was going to be kind of quirky and star wars-y, and had no idea the movie would be an amalgam of british humor and bad puppetry. Which isn't to say it's bad--it's marvelous--but it isn't Russ, I daresay. I had also seen "Kingdom of Heaven" with dad earlier in the day. It was very Ridley Scott, ie visually sumptuous, but it tried to make itself too all inclusive with the religious tolerance theme, while at the same time completely downplaying Saladin's genius as a general, making it look as if he won over the Christian hoard by sheer numbers and Christian stupidity. I'm getting sick of the kowtowing to everyone and everything. I'm annoyed with the fact that Western Civilization seems willing to downplay centuries of accomplishments in the name of cultural relativism and 'diversity'. I don't think that denying the fact that a country has a culture and a history is racist. It isn't racist to say iran is an islamic, persian country despite the existence of Kurds and Christians. Why is it racist or insensitive to say the united states is christian and anglo? I'm sure Jason can give me a smuggling self-righteous answer, can't you Jason? =)

I was thrilled that after a month of no new movies, two much anticipated films were coming out the same day: JLo's "Monster in Law", starring the incomparably beautiful Michael Vartan, and "Kicking and Screaming" with Will Ferrell. Sadly, both were slightly above average. Both took too long to get rolling, both had unnecessary gay characters which made both movies feel a bit forced, like political platforms (apparently hollywood has decided that gays are the new blacks.) rather than the light comedies to which I so desperately cleave. Both had some good moments (Michael Vartan shirtless on the beach/Will Ferrell telling Mike Ditka to go to hell and "while you're there, get me a juice box"), but were overall tame and not funny enough. Still, they were funny enough to help qualify the day as a 'good one'.

Thursday night I met up with Bonnie, Alan, Khris, and Becky for dinner at cafe express. The night constituted of sitting down and reflecting about how much hotter we were now that we weren't in high school, ripping on Britney's new white trash makeover, arguing as to whether tom cruise really is dating katie holmes, and a splatter about how rampant illegal immigration is ruining texas schools (half of those at dinner were frustrated teachers). We talked until the waiters started--very loudly--linking up the patio furniture around us in preparation for closing time.

Friday was Bonnie's birthday, so I actually put on makeup and went out with the desire to be charming. When I flip on the charming switch, though, I think everyone except Bonnie and Alan gets annoyed, because they all start to either ignore me or say mean things to me. I have wondered about this, and I think it's because I become too adult-y, and if my dinner party taught me anything, my friends are not comfortable in situations where they are expected to act like adults. The key lime pie was pretty amazing though. Afterwards I stuffed myself in the back of Alan's truck and headed across town to the speedway. I was the fifth wheel as two enaged(ish) couples played mini-golf, but I didn’t feel at all uncomfortable. In fact, I find Bonnie and Alan’s PDA absolutely charming and wonderful—it reminds me of Mark and I in the heady, early days. I keep getting random, Vietnam-like flashbacks of our relationship lately. The most recent one involved him kissing me against the cabinets the morning I arrived in New Zealand. Don’t be fooled though—the memory is important because of the sausages that were cooking in the background. I haven’t had good sausages in ages. But I made the best of things by being intensely competitive, even though I suck at golf—challenging everyone and making elaborate gestures of agony and ecstasy. When I wasn’t screaming at a wayward golf ball I was exchanging quasi-pornographic and highly adult text messages with a very obliging young man. Technology is amazing. But the night was childish and boisterous, and I skipped around the arcade and talked trash and made fun of women in shorts—all the recipes for a highly fun, highly irreverent night out. Then Bonnie and Alan were sweet enough to drive me all the way back to Plano—a 30 minute round trip, completely and utterly out of the way. Fell asleep with remote in hand watching “Best Week Ever”.

Saturday was Monica's bridal shower. I don't know if I have the strength to go into it right now. I'll post about it on the MMM. Suffice to say, Monica is a wonderful girl who has a lot of negative energy directed at her right now, and some people are usurping her wedding because of their own insecurity, and it's very unfortunate. By some people of course, I mean some family members. And by some family members, I mean those with vaginas.

Afterwards I went over to Bonnie's house in and flopped on her bed in my nice summer suit and read trashy tabloids. Went to chinese for dinner. Bonnie and Alan came over to look at wedding magazines, as a certain member of my family may or may not be approaching a time when such accoutrements may be necessary. Will Ferrell and Queens of the Stone Age were in golden splendor on SNL. Sunday Ryan Lauck sat down next to me to help take care of Zach, and three separate people came up and asked me if we were going out. I was flattered that people thought I was good looking enough to be with Ryan (one person said just that: “you make a handsome couple”) anyone who knows anything about us knows that we are about as incompatible as oil and water. Ryan came over for brunch, along with some other single women, and we all ripped on gossip in our ward. Feel that pulsing irony, kids.

Then I reread Harry Potter 3, and felt marvelous for doing so.

Heaven help me for the way I am.

I knew Theron's town was small. But a newspaper actually said, "Edgemont also has a movie rental and tanning salon business," as if that's a sign of burgeoning urban development. wow.

Last night, I had a dream about being a hostess and cashier at the Park Diner. Every time I rang up someone's check, I had to do it upside down because I didn't have time to go behind the register. I was too busy clearing tables and sweeping the floor. It makes me kind of sad that that job is a nostalgic hometown memory, when a lot of those girls I worked with probably still work there now.

I've got to administer a shock to the system.

*ugh* will to live weakening. I need it to be July when I wake up tomorrow morning. Not that I like July; I don't, because July is hot & sunny, and I don't like heat or sun.

But May & June...oh dear. I typed that bad things were about to happen! At least it's all more or less happening at once. I'm rounding it out with a second back surgery on the 29th of June. *hooray* I have to be at work by 4pm, and the surgery is at 2:30pm. Not sure how that's gonna work out. I don't know if they'll let me go on the phones if I'm covered in blood. This one isn't anything as serious as the first one, but still - - even a "minor op" will be more than a little painful. They're going to cut a chunk of flesh out of my back for goodness sake! And right over my shoulder blade and under my bra strap, which will be more than a little inconvenient where mobility (and modesty) are concerned.

That's why the surgery is scheduled for after I get back from Egypt (assuming I don't get blown up by tourist-haters in Cairo, which I suppose remains within the realm of possibility. The last bombing occured across the street from the EgyptianMuseum and wiped out a handful of tourists). I'm gonna try to convince Rebecca that we should do Cairo as quickly as possible, and right at the beginning of the trip, then - assuming we live - move to safe places, like a massive, gated resort complex on the RedSea. This is the first and last time I'm setting foot in a third world country, wonders of the world or not.

I'd forfeit my tickets if it weren't for the horrible guilt I'd feel at skipping a trip to places my mother has dreamt of visiting since she was little. Pompei was the same...had to go, because my mom desperately wants to. I still feel guilty for deciding not to visit Athens, and my mom trying to hide her disappointment when she asked how Athens was and I admitted to her that I hadn't actually gone. It's the only place outside the Caribbean (and the continental US) she's ever been to. And she was so excited at our having been to the same place, and having someone to talk to about it. I wish I could just give my mom the tickets, and let her go and frolic around the monuments. Because I won't appreciate it. I'll go, and see the things you're supposed to see, but as quickly as possible, and then retreat back to my hotel room to watch satellite tv.

I hate touristing!! And what's more touristy than Egypt?? DisneyWorld's pretty bad...but there are rides and candy shops at DisneyWorld, so I could stomach it. They have pizzas at Epcot which are shaped like Mickey's head! That did it for me. That and the dinner plate-sized, cherry lollipop. But pizza in the shape of a pyramid is just - - triangular pizza, which isn't as good. And imagine the damage the corners of a triangular lollipop could do to my tongue! Maybe if they have foods shaped like the Sphinx... And I suppose quality shopping for super cheap is a good thing. If Rebecca let's me. But she doesn't let us eat at McDonald's in her presence, so I doubt going to the Cairo mall will be smiled upon. Not that that'll stop me, but if you're going to be in the presence of another person 24 hours a day for two weeks, it's best not to rock the boat if you can avoid it.

North

This is Adam's adorable little guinea pig, North. He totally slam danced to "Elissa" last night.

Dudes. You have to go to The Mutiny for the mini-pitchers. It's so punk rock I can barely take it.

Best Lyrics of all time:
1) Built to Spill
2) Mirah
3) Elliott Smith
4) PJ Harvey
5) Fiona Apple

Best Bands I dislike for no rational or logical reason, even though their music is kinda good:
1) Wilco
2) Bright Eyes
3) The Walkmen
4) Interpol
5) The Black Keys

Best albums I over-listened to:
1) Fiona Apple -- When the Pawn
2) Weezer -- Pinkerton
3) Sleater Kinney -- One Beat

The Most Overrated Things of All time:
1) motherhood (nothing has more hype!)
2) marijuana
3) The New York Times
4) manolo blahnik
5) craziness/ depression
6) norah jones (people are so dumb).

The Most Underrated Things of All Time:
1) John Marshall Law School
2) Miller Lite
3) The Chicago Sun-Times
4) Malcom in the Middle reruns
5) sanity/ contentment

Here is a sampling of some of the lists I made in the car on the way home from SLC. As you can see, I had a lot of time. This isn't even all of them.

Lists:
Best Lyrics of all time:
1) Death Cab for Cutie
2) Smashing Pumpkins
3) Fiona Apple
4) The Walkmen
5) Jonathan Fire Eater

Best Pop Acts:
1) Backstreet Boys
2) Britney Spears
3) Ronan Keating
4) O-Zone
5) 5ive

Best Pop Songs:
1) "The Call"--Backstreet Boys
2) "Drive Myself Crazy"--N'Sync
3) "Toxic"--Britney Spears
4) "When the Lights Go Out"--5ive
5) "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)"--Backstreet Boys

Best Dallas Bands:
1) The Toadies
2) Tripping Daisy
3) The Nixons
4) Radish/Ben Kweller
5) Pantera

Best Rap Stars
1) Lil Kim
2) Outkast
3) Pharell and N.E.R.D
4) Atmosphere
5) Eminem

Best Hip-Hop Singles
1) "Get Low"--Lil John
2) "Tipsy"-J Qwon
3) "Shake That Thing"--Sean Paul
4) "EI"--Nelly
5) "Magic Stick"--Lil Kim

Best Bands I dislike for no rational or logical reason, even though their music is kinda good:
1) Bjork
2) Yo La Tango
3) Trail of Dead (though their new album is pretty awesome)
4) PJ Harvey
5) Wilco

The Most Overrated Things of All time:
1) "seperation of church and state"--i.e. agenda for various political organization
2) "source tags and codes"
3) tom sherman's basketball skills
4) the U.N.
5) Ashton and Demi, otherwise known as "older women with younger men"

The Most Underrated Things of All Time:
1) "Wolf Songs for Lambs"
2) BBCA and HGTV
3) Brad Pitt's naked body in "Troy"
4) Bollywood
5) Kids

Bands That I Like Because I think it Makes me Cool to Like Them Even Though I Don't Listen to Them All That Much:
1) Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
2) Beck
3) Black Flag
4) Rico
5) The Avalanches

Indie Bands That I Like Because they are Cool but I Don't Care if It Makes Me Look Cool to Like Them:
1) Rasputina
2) Jonathan Fire Eater
3) The Pixies
4) Tura Satana
5) Postal Service/Death Cab

Indie (or once indie) Bands That I Like Even Though It Makes me Uncool To Like Them
1) Weezer
2) Jimmy Eat World
3) Dashboard Confessional
4) Franz Ferdinand
5) Saves the Day

Songs on The Radio I hated the First 100 Times I heard Them But loved them Afterwards:
1) "This is How You Remind Me"--Nickelback
2) "Since You've Been Gone"--Kelly Clarkson
3) "Freshman"--The Verve Pipe
4) "Hanging By a Moment"--Lifehouse
5) "Calling You"--Blue October

Best Metal Bands
1) Tura Satana
2) Korn
3) System of a Down
4) Tool/A Perfect Circle
5) Slipknot

Best Gay Bands:
1) Sleater-Kinney
2) Peaches
3) Pansy Division

Best Makeover Shows:
1) House Doctor--BBCA
2) What Not To Wear--BBCA
3) How Clean is Your House?--Lifetime
4) The Swan--ABC
5) Clean House--Style

Best Indie Movies:
1) Eternal Sunshine
2) Babette's Feast
3) Punch Drunk Love
4) Russian Ark
5) American Splendor

Best Blockbuster:
1) Gladiator
2) Empire Strikes Back
3) Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
4) Harry Potter and the Prisnor of Azkhaban
5) Matrix

Best Comedies that Do Not Star Will Ferell:
1) Annie Hall
2) Tommy Boy
3) Billy Madison
4) Dude Where's My Car?
5) Happy Gilmore

Best Comedies Including Will Ferrell:
1) Zoolander
2) Superstar
3) Old School
4) Elf
5) Melinda and Melinda

The torts exam was extremely difficult. I don't know what to say other than that. It was really challenging.

I am so glad we're having band practice a lot over the next few days. Less Prosser Wade and Schwartz! More reverb!

so much caffeine.... ..... ..... ..... my fingers are FLYING!! here's hoping what I'm typing still makes sense in the morning. all about chaebols - - -

In two hours, the results of the latest americanidol eviction should be posted online for me to read about...hooray!! By that time, I'll have had so many litres of Coke, my entire self will be flying. But I've only got to do this once more after tonight - next Tuesday/Wednesday - so it's a happy thing, really. :-D

I wonder what sort of person I would be if my life were free of stressful deadlines like this. I don't think I'd bear much of a resemblance to the person I've become. I suppose I'll know soon enough, because next year, for a year, I won't have much stress. And I can just - be - and chill and such...and see what type of person I am when I'm not so stifled by thick clouds of responsibility that I can't sleep properly from the stress and worry of it.

That typed, I'm in good spirits 80% of the time these days, which is - - eerily high. Which probably means something is just about to go terribly wrong. *oh well* Next year?

It's always better on holiday, so much better on holiday. That's why we only work when we need the money.

So about a week or two ago I drove up to SLC with mom to help Margaret move into her new apartment. As usual, coming through the green dust hills of Utah County, I could feel the noose begin to tighten, that same claustrophobia squeezing my lungs that must be more than altitude.

Many of you will remember that when Adele and I were rocking the Sherm, moving in was not the easiest of experiences since the previous tenants for 4 years had been a) boys and b) Andrew Mason. So the pubic hairs behind the stove, the black kitchen floor, the strange calcium and rust build-ups in the tub, mold in the freezer--those were all things we had the honor, nay the privilege of scrubbing out. Margaret also made the mistake of leasing an apartment from the breed known as man, so we arrived at 730am Wednesday morning to a grime covered floor (leftover juice had stayed untouched for months, leaving a lovely black splatter design on the linoleum), dusty cabinets, ad strange brown swirls on the toilet that wouldn't disappear no matter how much Lime-away or Comet I used. But that was typical--the apartment was in good condition, all things considering. The fun part was a couch outside margaret's door in the hall. It was covered with old tires, shoes, fearful-looking blankets, and smelled of mice, vomit, urine, and mildew all in one. The smell was stronger than anything I have ever experience--it was as if I was walking through a medieval Scandinavian village with open sewers lining the street. The owner of said coach hadn't removed it after 8 months, and the local homeless population had taken to sleeping on it when one of the tenants forgot to lock the front door. I can't tell you how much fun it was hoisting that thing down a fire escape and throwing it into a dumpster.

Mostly all I accomplished on the trip was gaining weight. My eating patterns are very erratic if left to my own devices, and I often find myself engaging in 'social eating' where I order things because I don't want to make someone else eat alone, or because I'm caught up in the revelry of the 'going out' experience. I found myself eating nearly 4-5 meals a day of either pizza or Mexican, with one afternoon spent going to a middle-eastern restaurant which had the best baklava this side of Sanida Kikic's mother. Margaret took us to a place called--I kid you not--the Fiestarant, which made cheesecrisps the way God intended, not a limp quasadilla looking ball of retardedness, but a crispy, greasy masterpiece worthy of a thousand poems. I ended up not having my medicine with me, and as a result, burst into tears several times without provocation, and one time with provocation (my mom and sister called me fat and I burst out crying that I hated myself and hadn't been this heavy since high school, to which both my mom and sister started crying because they felt so badly about saying anything). But I've been trying to get off medicine for a while, so this trip provided enough of a break in my routine to enable me to do so. I'm still emotional and weepy, but I also get more manic. Still, a lot of things are going well right now, so I have the tools to handle my stress.

Margaret's boyfriend Chad has fallen into a similar relationship with me that Andrew had, where he says quasi-rude things to me, I tell him how fat he is (he could wear a 28 pant and he's 6 feet tall), and we occasionally share genuine moments of kindness. Only I think this guy is much better for Margaret than Andrew, so I tend to be nicer to him. The two of us (Chad and I) went to Best Buy to pick up Margaret's TV, and who should be there but Margaret's ex (Andrew) working in the home theatre section with his new girlfriend. Yeah, that wasn't at all awkward.

Mom and I took Chadaret (or Mard, I haven't decided which I like more, but they are as inseparable as the infamous Marky or Bennifer) to see "Melinda and Melinda" again, as well as the collection of Oscar Shorts in SLC. The Oscar Shorts were brilliant and incredibly bizarre--one from New Zealand was about three Maori kids waiting in the car for their parents to finish inside the pub, and they talk to each other and observe all the people around the bar. It was shot in sped-up infared black and white, so it had a glowing, frenzied quality. What I liked about it was when the tape sped up, they sped up the sound, so all the night sounds of birds and cars became crackling, almost unworldly. Another one from Spain had a man who was in love with a woman, so he took her coffee shop hostage and made everyone sing lyrics he wrote about her, then he blew himself up and confetti rained down on everyone. The saddest/best was "The Wasp", about this slutty young mom in a small British town who tries to have a night out but can't find a babysitter, so she leaves her kids outside the pub. The whole story was so real, it had so little filter between what was happening on screen and what life IS, I found myself extremely sad and uncomfortable.

The games on my cell are complete rubbish. I've been forced to cope with Bowling, and am seriously thinking of downloading tetris for $5, though it seems an extravagance.

Had one of my first decent conversations with a Mormon man while I was in SLC. Chad's roommate Chris, who has never had a serious girlfriend because he is "too weird", came over for dinner. We mostly chatted about econ. If nothing else, boys love talking to me about investing. I attract investors like flies on honey, baby.

Margaret's been taking "History of art techniques" as part of her Art History degree, and I was shocked at how proficient her art has become. She has learned how to mosaic, how to fresco, how to mix her own paints, and how to make rabbit skin canvasses. Every piece she creates is gallery worthy. Looking through her portfolio was such a mixture of envy and pride.

Went up to SLC proper to see my Aunt Carol and all the cousins. In my youth I always assumed that Aunt Carol was sort of the typical Mormon woman--deferring, very sweet, but not very sophisticated or urbane. Meeting her now, talking to her one on one, I've realized what an amazing woman she really is. She's incredibly sharp and very, very shrewd--her cheerful demeanor allows other people to underestimate her, and she understands much more than people think. She has a great potential for anger as well as kindness, she's very honest, and she abstains from criticism. I like her. She's the greatest grandma--we went with her to her grandson's--my second cousin's--t-ball tournament. The image of seeing 3-6 year old children galloping from base to base in helmet's twice the size of their heads was incredibly endearing. I like the idea of seeing a second-cousin play, and chatting with my cousin's and their spouses. I think it's very common in America to isolate one's sense of family to the nuclear family--I am as guilty of that as anyone--but opening up and being with obscure branches of your family, it still feels like home in a way. I think that comfort is underestimated.

Mom got sick and so I had to drive from Provo to Dallas--all 20 hours--so she could sleep and be well rested for her court appearance the next day. The drive wasn't as bad as I had anticipated, except for the fact that somewhere around Amarillo I seemed to have developed carpal tunnel, and my hands and writs began to hurt. The whole drive was stressful because mom wasn't supposed to leave the state since she hadn't met with her Parole Officer yet, and I had a warrant for my arrest in Texas, so we had to drive extra carefully to make sure we weren't pulled over. That meant I put the odometer before anything else, which meant people got very ticked off when they were trapped behind me on one way roads and I wouldn't go with the flow of traffic. I got home, collapsed on the bed, and spent the afternoon alternating between sleep and BBC. Which reminds me--I missed "House Doctor" at 10:30. Dangit!

I spent a lot of new Mexico wide awake on stimulants, thinking of all sorts of useless things. I started obsessively making lists in my head a la Nick Hornby. I'll post them if I get bored. I also broke in "Guero" and "Franz Ferdinand", decided the Shins have 5 or 6 great songs, the rest mediocre, and wondered why I hadn't jumped on the Xiu Xiu train earlier. All I have now is "fabulous muscles". Can anyone recommend their best?

Came home to find letters from Adele and Steven, which had both been messed up with the mail stack and had been sitting in our house for who knows how long. Letters make me want to be a better human being, and it always makes me more certain of the kindness of the person who sent them.

Spent my time since I've got back in a foul mood, yelling at everybody. I have realized that very few people outside of my family have ever seen my temper. I don't do it often, but boy I can really turn that bi-otch switch up to 11. Right now I'm raging because a) mom is yelling at me and b) I haven't had any privacy for weeks. Now that Margaret's gone (she flew down for Mother's day this weekend), I have my room back, and I'm not obligated to stay downstairs until 11 every night, but for a while there, I was beginning to lose my mind. I don't know, I need my mornings quiet, I need to have the embarrassment of choosing an outfit be seen by no one, I need no one to comment on the last time I ate or how many cokes I drink. And to have people around me all the time and having them comment on every little idiosyncrasy I have--I start to get belligerent. I almost threw myself out of the car the other day when mom and dad were having one of their circuitous, irrational, vitriolic "discussions". I drove Julia into tears accusing her of stealing one of my necklaces which I actually think might still be in storage. I tore into my mom last night when she asked me to stop making fun of her marriage. I don't know what's wrong with me--I need to get a grip.

Right now my mom is making me feel terrible that she didn't get anything for mother's day. And she should feel terrible--she buys us all kinds of things, she's had a terrible year in and out of jail, she doesn't ask us to do anything, and she gets no presents for Mother's Day. We took her out to brunch. The thing is, the 3 days before (I was going to buy her balloons, as she has never received them and always wanted to), I was busy, and then she drained my bank account to pay the bills, and then I had to borrow money to get Monica a wedding shower gift, so I had no money, and no car, and now I feel like a waste of space and I'm trying to get my boss to pay me so I can buy her something nice. Why am I so lame?

noooooo!
Prosser Wade and Schwartz are the devil.

cute-adam

Our cute drummer Adam

Oh my god, our band is oh-so-cute.

This was an awesome weekend.

Friday ... I already recounted partially ... weird but fun party. Then other activities.

Lakshmi and I played at Bill's Blues on Saturday night. We had to go on right after Buddy Guy's brother. Buddy Guy's brother saw us moving our equipment onto the stage and was like, "are your friends playing tonight?" (as if he couldn't believe that two girls were going to rock out.) And we were like, "no we are, and we're going to be good."

Once we played, I felt strong and happy. We were more confident this time, and I was proud of us. Lakshmi's friend Alex said we were "the mothafuckin' shit." The said we were a "two-headed monster." People were really nice and supportive. Ran into a lot of college people, which was fun. Some white boy hip hop followed us. It was funny, but not in a bad way. We stayed out late.

Sunday, I ran around crazily -- got a great haircut, bought some records, picked up Lakshmi went to Adam's. Had a sweet band practice and played with North the guinea pig. Adam's roommate took some pictures of us. Ummm. I think everyone will agree that we're a very good looking band. I will post pictures when I get a chance to resize them.

Then, zipped back to E'town and ate a burrito w/ Lakshmi and we talked about how much we love our band.

Went to Built to Spill last night. It was a blast. Doug dedicated "Twin Falls" to his mom, and it was really, really cute.

Woke up this morning with sun shining on my face and I did not want to get out of bed and face impending week of doom this morning.

Fact: The first track off Franz Ferdinand gave me chills, just like I used to get when I listened to music as a teenager

Fact: My sense of humor is being described as "perverse", "sick", and "immature."

Fact: I hate Salt Lake City

Fact: I am missing some crucial pieces of jewelry which is causing me great distress and emotional unease

Fact: I have had photo-realistic, cinematic-plot-driven dreams every night for the past week that somehow involve someone trying to kill me or me being cast as a keeper of some sort of magic

Fact: I made the drive, by myself, from SLC to Dallas in 20 hours. My hands fell asleep

Fact: My sister has found the man with whom she will spend the rest of her life. My parents thinks this is a source of anxiety and depression for me. This perception is a source of anxiety and depression for me.

Fact: I have no money and a wedding and a birthday to shop for. I still owe nick disabato $7

Fact: I think I am in love with Michael Vartan

Fact: I have not spent more than 15 minutes alone in over 3 weeks.

Fact: I cried while watching "extreme makeover: home edition"

Fact: I have been off medication for a week. I am reaching a stage in my life though, much as my mother and my grandmother had, where I am allowed shorter and shorter periods where I can be happy without it.

Fact: I have reoccuring dreams of a black-haired man I have never seen before. He never talks, and stands on the periphery.

FurtherSeemsForever and PMS are incompatible. So why am I listening to it...? To procrastinate, because I've had it since December but never listened to it.

The actress who plays Trillian RUINED the film for me. Because she can't bloody act. Of all the actresses in America, they picked HER?!? Oh well. At least she wasn't cast in LOTR.

After being in shockingly good spirits for five or six days, I'm back to being my cynical, grouchy, over-stressed self. But I'm usually in a good mood on days I go to work, and in a horrible mood on days that I don't. Which bodes well for financial security and a future in professional services. I HATE having nothing constructive to do!! Sunday is the worst day of the week.

That's great. A new record!

My brother gave me his Nintendo 64. Did I mention that? Man is that a good way to kill a few. My scores in Waverace stunt mode are almost too high though. It gets frustrating when you can never get on the top three list no matter how many handstands and double flips you do.

Went to a little party last night and was bombarded by art students talking about their "pieces" -- personal fave: a guy who filmed himself masturbating in a mirror while Asia's "heat of the moment" played in the background. That's it! That's the piece. They are going to give this guy a degree in something. It's incredible. People are the same everywhere. And everybody I know is for sale. Me too.

But I feel much happier today than I have for a week. Partly because I am remarkably fickle. But also because certain things are clearing up in the ol' brain. Some of the anger I've been really cultivating for the past two weeks is receeding -- or I'm pushing it back. I can't tell. Either way, I am less mad. I'm trying to fixate on the things that are right rather than the things that are wrong. Among the super-right things are: my mother, certain teachers I've had, the catatonics, a couple of really key friends, and how good it feels to be back on my rocker. (no little old lady image intended with the whole rocker cliche.)

Oh good lord. Now I've gone and been all talky talky when I'm supposed to be hard at work. Back at it.

I want beer and fun! I don't want to be at school for another minute. Arrrrrrgggg. Isn't anybody I know the slightest bit thirsty?

Another plug for my band: Come see The Catatonics tomorrow, midnight, Bill's Blues in Evanston.

Alvie: You two seem very happy. What's your secret?
Attractive woman: I'm completely shallow and have no thoughts of my own.
Attractive man: And I'm exactly the same way.

Can intelligent people ever be happy?

There is no way I will ever be able to retell the events of last night in anything resembling a coherent narrative. If they ever, ever make sense to me, I will be a much smarter person than I am right now.

I went to see this (a raucous cinco de mayo spectacular with burlesque dancers and mexican wrestlers, emceed by the voice of spongebob squarepants) with a boy and a lesbian couple. The evening went about as well as anyone who knows me could predict it went -- which is to say spectacularly poorly.

Now, I know full well that my brain is on a warpath that's taking me nowhere good fast. But I never said I'd be easy.

I don't know exactly how things shook down over the course of many, many beers (2 at corosh, 2 at the show, 1 at pontiac, 2 at the chipp inn, wow. more than I thought), but at the end of the night, the boy called me "miserable" and came up with an elaborate analogy involving sex and poisionous cookies.

And then, for completely logical reasons, I dreamed about Bertie Lord.

I've begun planning my own cronedom.

addendum: Oh, and I guess I have an extra Built to Spill ticket for Sunday at Metro. You can have it for free. You don't even need to stand near me. Any takers?

I've got a freaky painful bruise on my right elbow...fell off of the see-saw from Nottingham last night. Playgrounds are dangerous!! Especially at night, in the dark, with a group of college students...who encourage you (from the ground) to climb up to the top of the big rope pyramid even though you're afraid of heights and will be frightened to climb down once you reach the top and realize how high up you are. Thank goodness we were all sober, otherwise I reckon the freaky painful bruise would be a freaky painful gash to the head. But how did I manage to get up and down the rope pyramid without falling...but couldn't handle a see-saw?? I went flying off, though. Painfully fun!

I check this site multiple times a day, and I post on it...
For a site which is hilarious and updated several times a day,
go to www.overheardinnewyork.com/.
It reminds me of home, in a good way, oddly enough.

If I still lived in the Chicago-area, I'd be halfway to Theron's flat right now to buy some of those GSCookies off of him. There are very few sweets in the world which top frozen ThinMints. CaramelDelights are pretty high-up on my list, as well.

I need to stop thinking about cookies NOW I had two donuts for lunch, which meant I could only have carrot sticks and low-fat cream cheese and a couple of satsumas for dinner. *unsatisfying* I can't wait until it's tomorrow, and I can go out and buy myself some more sugar!! (My "no-refined-sugar" kick lasted one day...it's a gradual process. ;-) Next time, I'll go two.

I don't have time to make this post, but I will anyway! Because The and Jason and anonymous poster are as bored as I sometimes am! and I know from heaps of experience that blogs are a good way to kill a few!

We had a two-thums-up band practice last night. Maybe I was just really positive because I ate fantastic red curry for dinner. I don't know. The curry ruled either way. Our music sounds good with drums. Our new drummer Adam is fun.

Lakshmi: Hey Adele, will you turn me on? (in reference to her amp).
Adam: This is why I love girl bands.

MORE REVERB!

I like knowing that the CM helps J.K. with his bordeom at work.

The Catatonics are playing out on Saturday night at Bill's Blues on Davis St. in Evanston. We'll be going on at midnight (if I'm not already slumped over the bar having had a few too many at that point). 21+ A big $2.

Bill's Blues has decided to have our band and a few of Lakshmi's friends' bands becuase Bill realized that young people drink more than old fogeys.

Anyway, it should be fun. We'll be less nervous this time. Also -- new recording of "Wake Up" over at the catatonics.com. Check it!

I watched I Heart Huckabees last night. I really really liked it. Never really dug Naomi Watts much before, but her character was priceless in this. Sometimes, you just have to don the pilgrim bonnett.

Let's play 'chicken-or-egg'

Do I feel sullen because I eat too much McDonald's or do I eat too much McDonald's because I feel sullen?

I am in a spectacularly foul mood today, despite MatthewStevens pulling ahead 10 frames to 6 in the SnookerWorldChampionships final. I've stopped refined sugar cold-turkey, so my head is aching and I've spent the entire day possessed by cravings. I slept poorly (because I was out until 4am for the birthday of two of the British on my course...not worth the loss of sleep or missing snooker) and had a huge chunk of cheese right before bed, so my dreams were all disturbing and I woke up shaking because the last one involved my family and I being trapped in a car and about to be engulfed in flames...terrifying storms rapidly advancing towards me and me trying to run from the storms and find protection but always failing...and another dream that was significantly worse and kept me awake afterwards for a good hour.

No more cheese before bed!

And I don't want to go to Egypt anymore and am grouching about that (and consequently putting off the friends I'm going to Egypt with because I'm doing the grouching at them). And I have a staggering workload between now and the 6th of June. And it's my birthday on Saturday...which I suppose is a good thing, since 22 has most certainly been the shittiest year of my life. But I have to spend the next five weeks working on three monster research papers and starting my gargantuan dissertation and studying for massive exams and doing my shifts at Powergen and preparing for this stupid trip to Egypt and not going insane -

WITHOUT THE AID OF REFINED SUGAR!!!

I don't think I can afford to start a healthy eating regime right now. At the end of June, perhaps; at the beginning of May, definitely not. I am absolutely DESPERATE for some JellyBellys and a handful of chocolate covered raisins and some Softis and a sour-sugar-coated strawberry rollup. And maybe some Haribos. And a Snickers. And a blueberry muffin...and maybe a glazed donut with frosting (no sprinkles). I can't function properly without a semi-constant stream of refined sugars racing through my blood stream. I swear even my veins are tense right now I'm so desperate for some sweets. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Next year, I need to live in a remote Scottish town...on the coast, alone. That'd be swell. It won't happen, but I'd be a bit more sane in that sort of life. Maybe my mom was on to something when she suggested two years ago that I go to Inverness.