So searching for a job could be the most arduous, stressful, and mind twisting situation ever. It doesn't matter if you are unemployed or not fully satisfied and looking to switch it up, any way you paint it, it is about as much fun as a bag of dicks. I mean, piece by piece, every step of the process is obnoxious. I mean, the part that worries people the most, the interview, is the stage of the game where I am most comfortable and confident.
Actually finding available positions is wrought with pitfalls and epic wastes of time. For example, employers love dressing up awful jobs with clever names and euphemistic descriptions. When I still wanted to be in marketing and advertising, I was really looking for a creative position, or one involved with account due diligence and client contact. So naturally I was drawn to positions with names like "Account Executive". In reality, most companies should rename such a position "Cold-calling sales bitch". Now I understand that alot companies have you start in sales and work your way up to "better" positions, but don't attempt to decieve me as my mind is slowly turning to gelato from sitting on Monster.com all day. So if you are lucky enough to find jobs you actually want to apply for, then the real fun begins.
First of all, resumes. How awesome would it be if there was a standardized format for resumes that people could rely on? Blah blah resumes give you a chance to stand out and differentiate yourself blah blah. Or it is just another way for you to get screwed out of a job or interview you deserve because some anal retentive, gum smacking, HR professional doesn't enjoy your choice of font. Helvetica makes her wet but heaven forbid you dare use Geneva, that would march your resume down to the paper shredder like a fattened calf. Or she may get all bent out of shape because you put your academic information in the wrong portion of the page. Or maybe your work experience is just not sufficient for the position. Bottom line, you never fucking know. Thus, whenever you don't get a response or a denial, you begin tweaking your resume and before long, you have 17 different copies with your name presented in 12 different ways in order to keep all the files separate and uniquely tagged. Resumes...making normal people neurotic since then advent of the typewriter.
Whats the next step? Cover letters. Honestly, I would rather fellate a curling iron than continue to craft unique and special cover letters for each position I apply to. I would wager that 75% of cover letters flow straight into the trash heap completely negating the annoying amount of time painstakingly used with Word's thesaurus assuring your excellent verbal skills come across. And ask any HR or recruiter and they will tell you that you should create a different one for each position because a standard draft will easily be recognized and frowned upon. Well isnt that dandy? This is all secondary to the actual content of the letter which is basically informing the company why you are right for the position. Good luck writing that without sounding pompous, full of yourself, and like a cheesy asshat. Not to mention, all that you mentioned will be restated if and when you are granted the privilege of an interview. So cover letters can take a long walk off the shortest pier they can find.
If you find 10-15 positions you are interested in, you are lucky to get 1-2 interviews. So there is no excuse for not KILLING it. This job climate can bite me.
But when I start to get annoyed, I can at least fall back on my continual source of perspective and amusement, Chicago's homeless. They honestly continue to amazing and astound me on a daily basis. Last week, I saw a homeless dude on an Iphone. Swear to science. And I thought for a second that he might just be a grungy pseudo-hippie until I noticed his telltale cup and ratty sign. I mean, are you kidding me? I can't even afford an Iphone with my full time employement and this dude smells like Gary, IN and he's flipping through his apps. Homelessness...there's an app for that.
The new breed of quasi-homeless I see alot lately are the young-ish people with some sort of sign informing passers-by that they are travelling and ran out of money and can't get home. What the fuck? How does one do that? Were they on a meth tour of the Midwest and smoked their bankroll and now they can't get back to Grand Rapids? I mean, if/when I would be travelling to a large city, cross country, etc, my main concern would be "do I have enough $$ to get home or to my destination." But then again, that is just me and I've never sat in downtown stranger staring down annoyed businessmen for nickels.
Finally, I've noticed alot of assertive homeless lately too. I mean, beyond just asking for change or announcing that ever little bit helps. I'm talking about the guy who picks out individual people passing and tells them he is hungry or homeless.
"Hey man in the pink shirt, could you buy me some lunch?"
"Hey lady with the sweet ass, I'm homeless, got a dollar?"
Its a brazen but admirable attack. I mean, kudos for being proactive and not chilling in some fog. But then it can get annoying, such as the man rocking on his guitar in the subway. As he finished a song, he noticed that a girl nearby was swaying a bit. However, she had some headphones in so clearly she was rocking to her own jam. This didn't deter Subway Springsteen.
"I noticed you grooving to my tune, how about a donation?"
Really? She embarrasingly muttered something about not having any cash. I would have informed him I was actually grooving to the bridge from Lovestoned, but carrying on rocking out without regard for proper tuning or pitch. Then again, this man caused a few women with sensative olfactory systems to nearly seizure with his natural aromas, so he probably wasn't to be reasoned with.
So for the last 2-3 years or so, my favorite "indie" band has been Tegan and Sara. Interesting in make-up, they are identical twin sisters, Canadien, both lesbians, and both badass musicians on a variety of instruments. And they have managed to transition from an alt-folk sort of sound into power-indie goodness. The Con is one of my all time favorite songs, regardless of genre. Their vocals, lead and backing, compliment each other so comfortably and smoothly. Anyways, they just released Sainthood which is incredibly written. It just draws from all their previous work and just takes them to another level. I am still getting through it properly, but I recommend it to anyone that likes music that doesn't suck. Start with The Con; Nineteen; I Know I Know; Call It Off; and Walking with a Ghost. Then stumble upon the amazingness of Sainthood. Happy rocking.
"Calm down, I'm calling you to say. I'm capsized erring on the edge of safe..."
JW
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Fuck boutonnieres
Oh early fall. The chill in the air, the High School football, the early days of the school year where things are still fresh and new and hearts are atwitter. It can only mean one thing...homecoming season. Having a sister who is a soph in HS, it has managed to make its way back in discussions I have with my family. Homecoming, the magical week of school spirit culminating in a dance where young bucks looking to hone their social skills can essentially ask out girls they otherwise wouldn't know how to. Show evidence of their interest while cautiously testing the temperature of the girl's reaction to their affection under the guise of a harmless dance.
Well, unfortunately, this grand tradition is a source of perma-shame and embarrassment whenever I make the mistake of calling upon my memories. Contrary to what my swagger and smoldering looks ripped from the pages of a GQ may convey, I was not always such the Don Juan. I had this false ideal in my head that any of the male-female shortcomings I endured in middle school would vanish in this vast new frontier that was HS. We had 2 middle schools that merged into one HS which basically afforded me a whole school of people who had no clue what a tremendous mullet-wearing fail I was in middle school. My longing for attention from the fair sex would finally be ended...
...or not. I approached the Homecoming season with unbridled enthusiasm. I eagerly started conversations with my friends and Cross Country teammates about potential dates, and pre-dance restaurants, and the street cred said dates would bring. I was positively stoked. Little did I know this time of year would frame my biggest fails.
Without further ado, the first of my 3 epic homecoming fails.I carefully picked out the lucky girl who was going to have the privilege of joining me on my first foray into the dating world, Samantha (Sam) R. She was the top runner on the girls CC team, adorable, and just an overall sweet girl. I couldn't think of a more perfect date. We had talked a bit at races and such, and I thought I could be in a decent spot. I had my good friend CJ, who was also a CC guy with me and also one of her good friends from middle school, to diplomatically talk to her on my behalf. Gauge my chances a bit. "No problem," he assures me.
The next day, he informs me that I am "good". I take this as a sign and immediately feel my confidence swell. I plot my next move. Now in those days, I lived for just seeing and saying hello to girls I liked. Yeah, how fucking weak is that. I would plan my walks to class, sometimes talking extra long, meandering routes just to pass a [articular hunny and hopefully catch her eye and get a greeting. Thus, I had figured out the perfect time when I passed Sam in a fairly empty hallway on my way to Bio. I already was looking forward to smugly informing my parents that not only did I have a date to HC, she was one of the top 10 CC runners in the state, booyah. So, without fear, as I approached her, I stopped her and hurriedly vomited out my impassioned plea:
J: "HeySamIknowCJtalkedtoyouaboutit, soIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogotoHomecomingwithme?"
*Yes, there was no breath and I can scarcely believe she understood what I even said.*
S: "Aww, thanks. But sorry, I am already going with someone. Sorry, Jason"
What...the...fuck! I wanted to eviscerate CJ. I'm good? Did he mean, I'm good in the sense that she knew who I was? Cause certainly having a date doesn't mean I'm good. And did she fucking call me Jason? Do I look like the leader of the Argonauts? She doesn't even know my real name? To make matters worse, in my frustrated confusion, I decided to kick the wall. In doing so, I managed to bruise my toe allowing me the honor of walking with a limp the rest of the day and sitting out of practice that afternoon. It would have been less embarrassing to just tell my coach I couldn't run cause I forgot my tampons.
Side note: Sam and I ended up being pretty good friends and she managed to tease me about this particular incident until graduation. You can't escape your past.
Well, deluded into thinking that the only reason I didn't have a date yet was because Sam already was spoken for, I readjusted my focus and figured I would still have no problems. So I zero'd in on another CC runner, this one whom I had talked to a TON, sat next to on bus rides to meets, and had a class with. Greylen wasn't my uber crush, but nonetheless, I would be really excited to go to HC with her. So on one of our typical walks after class, I nonchalantly popped the question and prepared for a positive response. She kind of stuttered for a second as I sat with a grin looking like the cat that ate the canary. "Umm, let me think about it for a bit"...oh shit. I quickly stated that it wasn't a problem and nearly sprinted away. My mind began to swirl
"This isn't good, if she wanted to go, she would have said yes."
'Maybe she just has another offer, and she needs to let the other fool down softly."
"Oh fuck, maybe she needs to think of a way to deny me and not be bitchy..."
"Maybe she just really likes me and is stunned so it has to set in! Yes, thats it, has to be it."
I twisted myself up mentally so intensely that next period I was as confident as ever. My friend Teddy asked me if I had a date to HC. "Oh yeah, I'm going with Greylen. It should be awesome," I quickly replied. What could go wrong?
Well I went to lunch next period and mildly dreaded the next point in which I would see her. Well after lunch, walking to class, my destiny called. She was walking behind me with her friends and as I turned down a hall, she called my name.
G:"Hey"
J: *with look of complete terror*"Whats up"
G:"I just don't feel I know you well enough to go to HC with you. Sorry..."
With that she quickly rejoined her friends. I promptly began looking for a garbage can cause little miss had punched me in the stomach and I felt like I was going to hurl. And it only got better the next day when Teddy asked me what was up cause he talked to her and she said she wasn't going HC with me...oh FML. With that I gave up on freshman HC and continued to perpetuate the lie to my parents that I just wasn't that into girls really.
Well the next two years, buttressed by my humiliation of freshman year, my fear of rejection pervaded everything. Oh I would still ask hot girls to HC, I just would be a tremendous pansy about it. Sophmore year, Ali, wow. This girl was and still is stunning. My memories of her at 15-16 is still the most gorgeous girl I've ever known at any point in my life. And I still had the stones to ask her to HC...via note. Oh yes, I gave her a note asking if she wanted to go to HC...which I put in her locker. There was no MTV Laguna Beach cute theatrics with a teddy bear holding it or any of that nonsense. I just slipped a note in her fucking locker. How I possibly could have envisioned this situation turning out well, I have no damn idea. Well, I wasn't the least bit surprised when she called later that night and thanked me, but no thanks. I mean, kudos to her for at least having the dignity to call, and not do something lame...like give me a note. Fortunately, she didn't go on to make my life a living hell like some teen movie, we actually were cool throughout the end of HS, but sweet lord, I had trouble looking her in the eye, and they were such pretty eyes too.
So junior year rolls along, and my confidence is melting like an iceberg. More like I was a polar bear stranded on one of said icebergs as it broke with teenage normalcy and floated off towards a vast sea populated by Dungeon and Dragon aficionados and those who wore "Im with Stupid" shirts. However, I had one last gasp in me. Hallie. This was my quintessential childhood crush. I had a solid, unwavering crush on this vixen from 4th grade straight through 8th grade. I'm talking "drawing initials in frost and quickly erasing them out of embarrassment" and "saying her name with my last name just to see how it sounds on a daily basis" level of infatuation. However, it waned a bit as I was a year older and when I went to HS, I got caught up in other stuff. Yet, it came roaring back after she had been in HS for a bit and we had hung out in groups like the golden years. So HC came around and I decided it was time to act on all those years of adoration and just ask her...by giving her a note. See a theme here?
This time, I decided to sink even lower. I crafted a cute and clever note with an all too familiar punchline...and gave it to my friend...to give to her...and this friend also happened to be her ex-bf from last year. I mean, kudos to him for being a good friend and helping me out. Even more kudos when he said "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, are you sure you want to do it like this?" with concern, and hope I was kidding, in his eyes. I assured him I totally was and again I committed to an embarrassing legacy of pussification.
A group of us all went to dinner later that week and towards the end, my dearest angel pulled me aside into the hallway and sat me down. As she sweetly and kindly explained that I was a close friend but she was gonna have to say no, I began to feel like Lennie right as George was about to shoot him in the back of the head. The kiss on the cheek sealed my hatred for Homecoming for all time and taste in my mouth I would be brushing my teeth for years to rid myself of.
My sisters are both really pretty young girls and I have no doubt they will probably the girls who will be mentally scarring all these awkward young giraffes as they comically try to walk into adulthood. Especially the youngest, she has a mean streak and I could see her leading a merry band of dream wreckers that gain considerable strength around this time of the year. I weep at the thought of every freshman boy that is not already a ladykiller. Hopefully I will be able to arm my future sons with an arsenal of weaponry to avoid such humiliation, that my wounds are still fresh enough that my advice is useful and not all goofy fatherly awkwardness. Who wants a damn corsage anyways?
So Howie Day was my JAM in High School. I still listen to She Says, and More You Understand, and Morning After all the time. Then his second CD came out when I was a freshman, everyone got obsessed with Collide, and I thought he was about to explode. Well he kind of did. He got wasted on a plane and was kicking seats and got arrested. Ended up in rehab where I'm pretty sure he hooked up with Britney Spears if I recall. So, maybe he had the right plan all along. But he is back. And I am supremely glad cause in his "prime" his talent was undeniable. I saw him live and he was ridiculous. His use of looped guitar riffs, looped vocals, creating this insane melodies, he is awesome. At a time when all those "guys with guitars" were getting popular, I latched onto him cause he was unique and just had a different approach to it all. His new CD is hopefully evidence that he is back in the saddle and is ready to continue saucily seducing my ear drums. Be There is the first single and its a good place to start. Pretty cool video too. Enjoy it while reminiscing about how lame HS was...or if it was awesome for you...I hate you.
"If you're gonna be there, be there. If you're gonna stay, then stay tonight. Start living, out with the old. I'm all lit up, must be the good life..."
JW
Well, unfortunately, this grand tradition is a source of perma-shame and embarrassment whenever I make the mistake of calling upon my memories. Contrary to what my swagger and smoldering looks ripped from the pages of a GQ may convey, I was not always such the Don Juan. I had this false ideal in my head that any of the male-female shortcomings I endured in middle school would vanish in this vast new frontier that was HS. We had 2 middle schools that merged into one HS which basically afforded me a whole school of people who had no clue what a tremendous mullet-wearing fail I was in middle school. My longing for attention from the fair sex would finally be ended...
...or not. I approached the Homecoming season with unbridled enthusiasm. I eagerly started conversations with my friends and Cross Country teammates about potential dates, and pre-dance restaurants, and the street cred said dates would bring. I was positively stoked. Little did I know this time of year would frame my biggest fails.
Without further ado, the first of my 3 epic homecoming fails.I carefully picked out the lucky girl who was going to have the privilege of joining me on my first foray into the dating world, Samantha (Sam) R. She was the top runner on the girls CC team, adorable, and just an overall sweet girl. I couldn't think of a more perfect date. We had talked a bit at races and such, and I thought I could be in a decent spot. I had my good friend CJ, who was also a CC guy with me and also one of her good friends from middle school, to diplomatically talk to her on my behalf. Gauge my chances a bit. "No problem," he assures me.
The next day, he informs me that I am "good". I take this as a sign and immediately feel my confidence swell. I plot my next move. Now in those days, I lived for just seeing and saying hello to girls I liked. Yeah, how fucking weak is that. I would plan my walks to class, sometimes talking extra long, meandering routes just to pass a [articular hunny and hopefully catch her eye and get a greeting. Thus, I had figured out the perfect time when I passed Sam in a fairly empty hallway on my way to Bio. I already was looking forward to smugly informing my parents that not only did I have a date to HC, she was one of the top 10 CC runners in the state, booyah. So, without fear, as I approached her, I stopped her and hurriedly vomited out my impassioned plea:
J: "HeySamIknowCJtalkedtoyouaboutit, soIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogotoHomecomingwithme?"
*Yes, there was no breath and I can scarcely believe she understood what I even said.*
S: "Aww, thanks. But sorry, I am already going with someone. Sorry, Jason"
What...the...fuck! I wanted to eviscerate CJ. I'm good? Did he mean, I'm good in the sense that she knew who I was? Cause certainly having a date doesn't mean I'm good. And did she fucking call me Jason? Do I look like the leader of the Argonauts? She doesn't even know my real name? To make matters worse, in my frustrated confusion, I decided to kick the wall. In doing so, I managed to bruise my toe allowing me the honor of walking with a limp the rest of the day and sitting out of practice that afternoon. It would have been less embarrassing to just tell my coach I couldn't run cause I forgot my tampons.
Side note: Sam and I ended up being pretty good friends and she managed to tease me about this particular incident until graduation. You can't escape your past.
Well, deluded into thinking that the only reason I didn't have a date yet was because Sam already was spoken for, I readjusted my focus and figured I would still have no problems. So I zero'd in on another CC runner, this one whom I had talked to a TON, sat next to on bus rides to meets, and had a class with. Greylen wasn't my uber crush, but nonetheless, I would be really excited to go to HC with her. So on one of our typical walks after class, I nonchalantly popped the question and prepared for a positive response. She kind of stuttered for a second as I sat with a grin looking like the cat that ate the canary. "Umm, let me think about it for a bit"...oh shit. I quickly stated that it wasn't a problem and nearly sprinted away. My mind began to swirl
"This isn't good, if she wanted to go, she would have said yes."
'Maybe she just has another offer, and she needs to let the other fool down softly."
"Oh fuck, maybe she needs to think of a way to deny me and not be bitchy..."
"Maybe she just really likes me and is stunned so it has to set in! Yes, thats it, has to be it."
I twisted myself up mentally so intensely that next period I was as confident as ever. My friend Teddy asked me if I had a date to HC. "Oh yeah, I'm going with Greylen. It should be awesome," I quickly replied. What could go wrong?
Well I went to lunch next period and mildly dreaded the next point in which I would see her. Well after lunch, walking to class, my destiny called. She was walking behind me with her friends and as I turned down a hall, she called my name.
G:"Hey"
J: *with look of complete terror*"Whats up"
G:"I just don't feel I know you well enough to go to HC with you. Sorry..."
With that she quickly rejoined her friends. I promptly began looking for a garbage can cause little miss had punched me in the stomach and I felt like I was going to hurl. And it only got better the next day when Teddy asked me what was up cause he talked to her and she said she wasn't going HC with me...oh FML. With that I gave up on freshman HC and continued to perpetuate the lie to my parents that I just wasn't that into girls really.
Well the next two years, buttressed by my humiliation of freshman year, my fear of rejection pervaded everything. Oh I would still ask hot girls to HC, I just would be a tremendous pansy about it. Sophmore year, Ali, wow. This girl was and still is stunning. My memories of her at 15-16 is still the most gorgeous girl I've ever known at any point in my life. And I still had the stones to ask her to HC...via note. Oh yes, I gave her a note asking if she wanted to go to HC...which I put in her locker. There was no MTV Laguna Beach cute theatrics with a teddy bear holding it or any of that nonsense. I just slipped a note in her fucking locker. How I possibly could have envisioned this situation turning out well, I have no damn idea. Well, I wasn't the least bit surprised when she called later that night and thanked me, but no thanks. I mean, kudos to her for at least having the dignity to call, and not do something lame...like give me a note. Fortunately, she didn't go on to make my life a living hell like some teen movie, we actually were cool throughout the end of HS, but sweet lord, I had trouble looking her in the eye, and they were such pretty eyes too.
So junior year rolls along, and my confidence is melting like an iceberg. More like I was a polar bear stranded on one of said icebergs as it broke with teenage normalcy and floated off towards a vast sea populated by Dungeon and Dragon aficionados and those who wore "Im with Stupid" shirts. However, I had one last gasp in me. Hallie. This was my quintessential childhood crush. I had a solid, unwavering crush on this vixen from 4th grade straight through 8th grade. I'm talking "drawing initials in frost and quickly erasing them out of embarrassment" and "saying her name with my last name just to see how it sounds on a daily basis" level of infatuation. However, it waned a bit as I was a year older and when I went to HS, I got caught up in other stuff. Yet, it came roaring back after she had been in HS for a bit and we had hung out in groups like the golden years. So HC came around and I decided it was time to act on all those years of adoration and just ask her...by giving her a note. See a theme here?
This time, I decided to sink even lower. I crafted a cute and clever note with an all too familiar punchline...and gave it to my friend...to give to her...and this friend also happened to be her ex-bf from last year. I mean, kudos to him for being a good friend and helping me out. Even more kudos when he said "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, are you sure you want to do it like this?" with concern, and hope I was kidding, in his eyes. I assured him I totally was and again I committed to an embarrassing legacy of pussification.
A group of us all went to dinner later that week and towards the end, my dearest angel pulled me aside into the hallway and sat me down. As she sweetly and kindly explained that I was a close friend but she was gonna have to say no, I began to feel like Lennie right as George was about to shoot him in the back of the head. The kiss on the cheek sealed my hatred for Homecoming for all time and taste in my mouth I would be brushing my teeth for years to rid myself of.
My sisters are both really pretty young girls and I have no doubt they will probably the girls who will be mentally scarring all these awkward young giraffes as they comically try to walk into adulthood. Especially the youngest, she has a mean streak and I could see her leading a merry band of dream wreckers that gain considerable strength around this time of the year. I weep at the thought of every freshman boy that is not already a ladykiller. Hopefully I will be able to arm my future sons with an arsenal of weaponry to avoid such humiliation, that my wounds are still fresh enough that my advice is useful and not all goofy fatherly awkwardness. Who wants a damn corsage anyways?
So Howie Day was my JAM in High School. I still listen to She Says, and More You Understand, and Morning After all the time. Then his second CD came out when I was a freshman, everyone got obsessed with Collide, and I thought he was about to explode. Well he kind of did. He got wasted on a plane and was kicking seats and got arrested. Ended up in rehab where I'm pretty sure he hooked up with Britney Spears if I recall. So, maybe he had the right plan all along. But he is back. And I am supremely glad cause in his "prime" his talent was undeniable. I saw him live and he was ridiculous. His use of looped guitar riffs, looped vocals, creating this insane melodies, he is awesome. At a time when all those "guys with guitars" were getting popular, I latched onto him cause he was unique and just had a different approach to it all. His new CD is hopefully evidence that he is back in the saddle and is ready to continue saucily seducing my ear drums. Be There is the first single and its a good place to start. Pretty cool video too. Enjoy it while reminiscing about how lame HS was...or if it was awesome for you...I hate you.
"If you're gonna be there, be there. If you're gonna stay, then stay tonight. Start living, out with the old. I'm all lit up, must be the good life..."
JW
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I do...well, maybe not yet
So this past weekend, I was out in Boston for my cousin's wedding. It was definitely an interesting, non-typical wedding for sure. Most weddings don't take place at a 300 year old house that also serves at a youth hostel. Most weddings don't have barbecue ribs as the main dinner course. Most weddings don't take place somewhere with no TVs. NO TVs! I saw none of the Michigan-ND or OSU-USC games. It was excruciating crouching in the corner trying to get a signal attempting to furiously text Google for score updates like Gollum worshiping the ring. All that being said, I had a blast. A few reasons come to mind.
First of all, weddings are just naturally predisposed to fun. Ample booze? Check. People drinking said booze that normally don't drink? Check. Music and people making asses of themselves on the dancefloor, convinced by the chardonnay that they are Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers? Check. And its just an inherently positive and upbeat event. Its just set up for a good time, you know something interesting is going to happen, like when you see that drunk girl in stilettos tottering down an icy sidewalk.
Drinking with relatives. This is something you don't really grasp until you are of drinking age. That uncle you always thought was kind of cool? He really has a wicked sense of humor that he was never relaxed enough to unleash cause he had to be all mature for his nieces and nephews, or some similar constraint ridiculously put on him by others. Really, you have not lived until you see your Grandparents drinking out of Das Boot. Yes, you read that right. A boot appeared and was being passed around and my Grandparents, both 80+, hit that shit like Floyd Mayweather. I was a bit misty-eyed. I was soo stunned I scarcely realized that both my parents were getting their sip on as well. Including my mother who hasn't drank a beer since Prince was on Apollonia. This also marked the first time I've truly been "feeling no pain" around my parents. I realized this with a sinking horror as I was drunkenly eating a bagel like an idiot at the hotel and listening to myself speak. The next morning my little sisters were questioning about my inebriated state last night. I kindly informed them that they were tripping and I was merely tired and hungry. Oh my, I'll miss when they aren't so easily mentally redirected. I actually cut myself off after I was beckoned to the dance floor by my cousin who asked to me teach them the Soulja Boy cause I'm a good dancer. However, I proceeded to execute an aborted version of the Dirty Bird. I then shamefully exited the dance floor cause I realized I was too drunk to execute a dance created by a 16 year old with the lyrical prowess of Sloth from the Goonies. I wanted to go back to Saturday and punch myself in the face.
Finally, weddings help me put my life into focus. As I caterwal haphazardly through my early 20s, I find myself examining my maturity and how I wish I was this and that, but yet I'm not really sure. Do I want a significant relationship or do I want to continue being a self-sufficient sort of fellow? Well examining weddings, I do like somethings. I mean, come on, I love being the center of attention, and there is no grander stage than being the groom in a wedding. Well besides your pesky bride. Plus there is an exquisite amount of control into making it your ideal day. Sweetness right? Then I am quickly drenched in the realization that no matter how much I have grown since college and how much more mature I may or not be, I am NOWHERE near ready to be joined in everlasting marital bliss. The thought of it all is staggering to me. Like when you are a kid and everything in the future seems so daunting, like high school, and driving, and not wetting the bed? Like that. But I am comfortable enough with myself to realize that like all the things I mentioned, this will come in time and I am perfectly content to wait. No need to hurry growth, right Peter Pan my friend and role model?
PS, if you have never had strawberry rhubarb pie, you need to have it immediately or hereby surrender your sense of taste cause you depriving yourself of heaven. And if you have had it and don't like it, go eat something you do like, probably brussel sprouts or vinegar ice cream...weirdos.
So Hip-Hop decided to save my musical life yet again recently. As I found myself being bored with some of the music in my life, Kid Cudi and Jay-Z dropped their new discs. Hova's Blueprint 3 is predictably amazing with tight rhymes and sick beats. You really need to get all up in that. Empire State of Mind with Alicia Keys is just ridiculous and Off That has one of those undeniably Timbaland beats. That's a good start. But more importantly, Kid Cudi. This dude just kills his first disc. He has the Lupe feel to him and he is just a lyrical badass. I mean, Day and Night was a catch ass track, but this CD is just brilliant. Its indie, electronica, and hip-hop somehow blended into one. Soundtrack 2 My Life is one of the most honest, raw songs I've heard in ages. Its got a Matisyahu-like feel to the chorus. This is how you open up a CD? Just ballsy and exactly how you show you're about to throw down a nasty album. Up, Up, and Away is just amazing (would have been my summer jam if it dropped a bit earlier) and Pursuit of Happiness is creative as hell. So do yourself a favor and spin both of these while eating strawberry rhubarb pie and silently thank me for creating you a sensory utopia.
"I got 99 problems and they all bitches..."
JW
First of all, weddings are just naturally predisposed to fun. Ample booze? Check. People drinking said booze that normally don't drink? Check. Music and people making asses of themselves on the dancefloor, convinced by the chardonnay that they are Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers? Check. And its just an inherently positive and upbeat event. Its just set up for a good time, you know something interesting is going to happen, like when you see that drunk girl in stilettos tottering down an icy sidewalk.
Drinking with relatives. This is something you don't really grasp until you are of drinking age. That uncle you always thought was kind of cool? He really has a wicked sense of humor that he was never relaxed enough to unleash cause he had to be all mature for his nieces and nephews, or some similar constraint ridiculously put on him by others. Really, you have not lived until you see your Grandparents drinking out of Das Boot. Yes, you read that right. A boot appeared and was being passed around and my Grandparents, both 80+, hit that shit like Floyd Mayweather. I was a bit misty-eyed. I was soo stunned I scarcely realized that both my parents were getting their sip on as well. Including my mother who hasn't drank a beer since Prince was on Apollonia. This also marked the first time I've truly been "feeling no pain" around my parents. I realized this with a sinking horror as I was drunkenly eating a bagel like an idiot at the hotel and listening to myself speak. The next morning my little sisters were questioning about my inebriated state last night. I kindly informed them that they were tripping and I was merely tired and hungry. Oh my, I'll miss when they aren't so easily mentally redirected. I actually cut myself off after I was beckoned to the dance floor by my cousin who asked to me teach them the Soulja Boy cause I'm a good dancer. However, I proceeded to execute an aborted version of the Dirty Bird. I then shamefully exited the dance floor cause I realized I was too drunk to execute a dance created by a 16 year old with the lyrical prowess of Sloth from the Goonies. I wanted to go back to Saturday and punch myself in the face.
Finally, weddings help me put my life into focus. As I caterwal haphazardly through my early 20s, I find myself examining my maturity and how I wish I was this and that, but yet I'm not really sure. Do I want a significant relationship or do I want to continue being a self-sufficient sort of fellow? Well examining weddings, I do like somethings. I mean, come on, I love being the center of attention, and there is no grander stage than being the groom in a wedding. Well besides your pesky bride. Plus there is an exquisite amount of control into making it your ideal day. Sweetness right? Then I am quickly drenched in the realization that no matter how much I have grown since college and how much more mature I may or not be, I am NOWHERE near ready to be joined in everlasting marital bliss. The thought of it all is staggering to me. Like when you are a kid and everything in the future seems so daunting, like high school, and driving, and not wetting the bed? Like that. But I am comfortable enough with myself to realize that like all the things I mentioned, this will come in time and I am perfectly content to wait. No need to hurry growth, right Peter Pan my friend and role model?
PS, if you have never had strawberry rhubarb pie, you need to have it immediately or hereby surrender your sense of taste cause you depriving yourself of heaven. And if you have had it and don't like it, go eat something you do like, probably brussel sprouts or vinegar ice cream...weirdos.
So Hip-Hop decided to save my musical life yet again recently. As I found myself being bored with some of the music in my life, Kid Cudi and Jay-Z dropped their new discs. Hova's Blueprint 3 is predictably amazing with tight rhymes and sick beats. You really need to get all up in that. Empire State of Mind with Alicia Keys is just ridiculous and Off That has one of those undeniably Timbaland beats. That's a good start. But more importantly, Kid Cudi. This dude just kills his first disc. He has the Lupe feel to him and he is just a lyrical badass. I mean, Day and Night was a catch ass track, but this CD is just brilliant. Its indie, electronica, and hip-hop somehow blended into one. Soundtrack 2 My Life is one of the most honest, raw songs I've heard in ages. Its got a Matisyahu-like feel to the chorus. This is how you open up a CD? Just ballsy and exactly how you show you're about to throw down a nasty album. Up, Up, and Away is just amazing (would have been my summer jam if it dropped a bit earlier) and Pursuit of Happiness is creative as hell. So do yourself a favor and spin both of these while eating strawberry rhubarb pie and silently thank me for creating you a sensory utopia.
"I got 99 problems and they all bitches..."
JW
Friday, August 21, 2009
Crack is wack.
Its amazing how when you've had a bad/annoying day, the littlest thing can set you off. For example, coming home today, I was waiting for the Red Line. Now I have been subjected to countless performers in the Jackson station. The 3 young boys with tons of grease in their hair offering R&B renditions to the African-American gentleman playing covers of John Mayer and America, which is hilarious cause both artists are so quintessentially white. However, today, there was a black woman crooning a capella. Now she has been there before and its just meh. Today she was rocking Amazing Grace and then O Come All Ye Faithful (yes, bitch was singing Christmas hymns in the dead of August). However, shortly before the train arrived, she broke out in to Whitney Houston's badass "I Will Always Love You". Now this song is badass solely because of the difficultly and the killer pipes of Ms. Houston. This woman thought she could cover it. Now she has an alright voice with a decent register, but it was nowhere near the only awesome cover I have ever heard of this song. In fact, when she mangled the start of the chorus, I remarked "Oh hell no" loud enough that the girl next to me started laughing and commented that "She doesn't sound like Whitney, does she?" Oh she did...after Whitney had smoked enough crack that you could have used her as a chimney sweep.
I think of myself as a pretty even tempered person. I used to have quite the temper (enough that I wasn't able to play travelling club soccer cause my parents worried my temper would get me in trouble) but Ive grown up and usually internalize it, though its not always a good thing. However, this means I rarely have outbursts. Well at work today, that was not the case. I have the misfortune of sitting next to one of the more obnoxious trainees. Now I understand, a short time ago I was just like him, but I did a lot of listening and staying silent. This ass clown feels the need to jabber constantly. And its not pleasant conversation, its his need to comment on things you are doing or trying to endear himself to you by pretend we're all in it together...we're not. I try to tune him out, but its tough. We refer to him as "Fly" because, well, you can figure it out.
Anyways, I have been having a very rough week. Like, lost double what a good week usually is for me. So I'm stressed because Im disappointed in myself, the market sucks, knowing my heartless employers, I could be canned any day for all I know. So needless to say, Im a bit wired. Well I also have the tendancy to talk to stocks and current positions like they are petulant children. Well the following exchange occured to me and this new little insect-like minion:
(Warning, strong language ahead)
JW: "Come on, go. Get the fuck up. Son of a bitch, you fucking cock goblin."
Fly: Haha, that was really funny dude.
JW *looking straight ahead* "You know what else is funny? You shutting the fuck up"
I then continue to look straight ahead and blow a bubble for good measure.
Fly: "Relax, we're all having a rough time man. Market's crazy huh?"
I then proceed to shoot him an icy glare that states "You know nothing and I just lost more than you'll make in a month, so please shut the fuck up and in a few months, if you're still here, then maybe we can be buddies." Silence...booyah
Does this make me an ass? Perhaps, but I feel like I am do for a snap every once and awhile. Thank god its the weekend.
In other news...Oh man, so much random CTA/transit hilarity lately.
-Woman riding her bike down Wells and puts her hand out to make a turn signal, only to recieve a high five from a passerby sending her careening out of control, almost hitting a car and having to jump off her bike. I swear this is one of the funniest things Ive ever seen. I almost forgot to laugh it was so ridiculous.
-Gospel rapper on the subway singing a song with a chorus that went "We dont neeeeeeed guuuunnns". Think of whatever offbeat weird melody you can think of an it was pretty close.
-My personal favorite. I was on the train home yesterday when a little boy of about 7 was running amuck. I mean yelling, bouncing off people, being generally obnoxious. He tried to smack my phone out of my hands as I was simply trying to get a nice game of solitaire in during my commute. Well as this incorrigble little beast was terrorizing this train like a Poltergeist, his mother was on her phone gabbing like she was auditioning for the Hills. Well, her parenting abilities were clearly substandard. Though she was a dime, if I was looking for a Quiz Bowl partner, I would probably be better off using an actual dime I find in my pocket. Well I enacted my revenge shortly before I left the train. As we were coming to the stop, I bent down and tapped the retarded leprachaun on the shoulder as he was probably tying an old woman's shoelaces together or something. As he looked at me with a blank stare, I told him "Your mom is hot. Go tell her, she will understand cause she is." With that I exited the train and hoped that he would be tormented soon enough with the thought of his mom being some MILF lusted after by men all over Chicago. Unfortunately I then realize he was both 7 and probably with the intelligence of a lampost, so I just hope his mom felt weird.
So Matisyahu has a new single, One Day, out. And it kicks ass per usual. Now I could write 5 blog posts about how much I love this dude and his music. I remember the first time I heard King Without a Crown, I remember being a bit iffy on it. But it was intriguing and so I gave it and the rest of his CD some spins. And I was hooked. Now despite being a religious/spiritual person, I have never been much of a fan of Christian rock or the like, cause it always seems a bit off lyrically. Well Matisyahu is just as direct, but there is just this honesty and sincerity to it. Its hard to describe, but there is just this atmospheric cadence to his delivery, obviously a reflection of the traditional Jewish songs and chants in temple. His music honestly just makes me feel really damn good. Its so cheesy, but its utterly true. So gorgeous, so rhythmically diverse, so unique. I mean, a Hasidic Jew sing-rapping with a reggae influence intermixed with traditional Jewish chants and calls? That works? Really? Does it ever. If you have never listened try Jerusalem (what a fucking jam), Time of Your Song (just perfect), and Indestructible (even my Dad loves this song. And its so overtly religious but yet not overbearing). I dare you to not enjoy. I also saw him in concert last summer, and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. It was like a jam band concert mixed with the uplifting feel of gospel choir mixed with a giant mosh pit. He is such a unique dude you forget he is still some late 20s dude. Its that beard. When mixed with prayer curls, the traditional scarves, and for the show I was at, a cocked Packers hat, dude is a badass enigma. Alright, enough gushing like a fanboy, I'll go back to rocking back and forth and smiling thinking of the massive dance party I participated in onstage.
"Sometimes in my tears I drown, but I never let it get me down. So when negativity surrounds, I know some day it'll all turn around"
JW
I think of myself as a pretty even tempered person. I used to have quite the temper (enough that I wasn't able to play travelling club soccer cause my parents worried my temper would get me in trouble) but Ive grown up and usually internalize it, though its not always a good thing. However, this means I rarely have outbursts. Well at work today, that was not the case. I have the misfortune of sitting next to one of the more obnoxious trainees. Now I understand, a short time ago I was just like him, but I did a lot of listening and staying silent. This ass clown feels the need to jabber constantly. And its not pleasant conversation, its his need to comment on things you are doing or trying to endear himself to you by pretend we're all in it together...we're not. I try to tune him out, but its tough. We refer to him as "Fly" because, well, you can figure it out.
Anyways, I have been having a very rough week. Like, lost double what a good week usually is for me. So I'm stressed because Im disappointed in myself, the market sucks, knowing my heartless employers, I could be canned any day for all I know. So needless to say, Im a bit wired. Well I also have the tendancy to talk to stocks and current positions like they are petulant children. Well the following exchange occured to me and this new little insect-like minion:
(Warning, strong language ahead)
JW: "Come on, go. Get the fuck up. Son of a bitch, you fucking cock goblin."
Fly: Haha, that was really funny dude.
JW *looking straight ahead* "You know what else is funny? You shutting the fuck up"
I then continue to look straight ahead and blow a bubble for good measure.
Fly: "Relax, we're all having a rough time man. Market's crazy huh?"
I then proceed to shoot him an icy glare that states "You know nothing and I just lost more than you'll make in a month, so please shut the fuck up and in a few months, if you're still here, then maybe we can be buddies." Silence...booyah
Does this make me an ass? Perhaps, but I feel like I am do for a snap every once and awhile. Thank god its the weekend.
In other news...Oh man, so much random CTA/transit hilarity lately.
-Woman riding her bike down Wells and puts her hand out to make a turn signal, only to recieve a high five from a passerby sending her careening out of control, almost hitting a car and having to jump off her bike. I swear this is one of the funniest things Ive ever seen. I almost forgot to laugh it was so ridiculous.
-Gospel rapper on the subway singing a song with a chorus that went "We dont neeeeeeed guuuunnns". Think of whatever offbeat weird melody you can think of an it was pretty close.
-My personal favorite. I was on the train home yesterday when a little boy of about 7 was running amuck. I mean yelling, bouncing off people, being generally obnoxious. He tried to smack my phone out of my hands as I was simply trying to get a nice game of solitaire in during my commute. Well as this incorrigble little beast was terrorizing this train like a Poltergeist, his mother was on her phone gabbing like she was auditioning for the Hills. Well, her parenting abilities were clearly substandard. Though she was a dime, if I was looking for a Quiz Bowl partner, I would probably be better off using an actual dime I find in my pocket. Well I enacted my revenge shortly before I left the train. As we were coming to the stop, I bent down and tapped the retarded leprachaun on the shoulder as he was probably tying an old woman's shoelaces together or something. As he looked at me with a blank stare, I told him "Your mom is hot. Go tell her, she will understand cause she is." With that I exited the train and hoped that he would be tormented soon enough with the thought of his mom being some MILF lusted after by men all over Chicago. Unfortunately I then realize he was both 7 and probably with the intelligence of a lampost, so I just hope his mom felt weird.
So Matisyahu has a new single, One Day, out. And it kicks ass per usual. Now I could write 5 blog posts about how much I love this dude and his music. I remember the first time I heard King Without a Crown, I remember being a bit iffy on it. But it was intriguing and so I gave it and the rest of his CD some spins. And I was hooked. Now despite being a religious/spiritual person, I have never been much of a fan of Christian rock or the like, cause it always seems a bit off lyrically. Well Matisyahu is just as direct, but there is just this honesty and sincerity to it. Its hard to describe, but there is just this atmospheric cadence to his delivery, obviously a reflection of the traditional Jewish songs and chants in temple. His music honestly just makes me feel really damn good. Its so cheesy, but its utterly true. So gorgeous, so rhythmically diverse, so unique. I mean, a Hasidic Jew sing-rapping with a reggae influence intermixed with traditional Jewish chants and calls? That works? Really? Does it ever. If you have never listened try Jerusalem (what a fucking jam), Time of Your Song (just perfect), and Indestructible (even my Dad loves this song. And its so overtly religious but yet not overbearing). I dare you to not enjoy. I also saw him in concert last summer, and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. It was like a jam band concert mixed with the uplifting feel of gospel choir mixed with a giant mosh pit. He is such a unique dude you forget he is still some late 20s dude. Its that beard. When mixed with prayer curls, the traditional scarves, and for the show I was at, a cocked Packers hat, dude is a badass enigma. Alright, enough gushing like a fanboy, I'll go back to rocking back and forth and smiling thinking of the massive dance party I participated in onstage.
"Sometimes in my tears I drown, but I never let it get me down. So when negativity surrounds, I know some day it'll all turn around"
JW
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Its not a guilty pleasure if you don't feel guilty
So Ive widely admitted to be a music nerd. And not just "I like going to concerts" or "I have a bunch of random stuff on my Ipod", but more like, I obsess over random bridges or a 2 second snippet of melody that a lead singer did on CD but unfortunately will not do live. Genre, era, style, doesn't really matter. I've had conversations with people Ive just met, and they mention a favorite band, and I'll excitedly breakdown my favorite part of a certain song and they in turn give me a look like I'm a crazy cat lady showing pictures of the sweaters I knitted for Mittens and Fluffkins.
But its pretty ridiculous. Im not so much an elistist that I need to know and like bands people have never heard of. On the contrary, that gets obnoxious at times cause you want people to be familiar with your musical groups of choice, or at least I do, so you can discuss them or appreciate certain songs. For example, the emo/pop-punk/punk scene I was in in HS and college immediately turned on bands whenever they had success. It was just sooooo much cooler in their eyes to like bands that nobody had ever heard of. Don't get me wrong, its awesome to see bands in intimate venues, be ahead of the curve, etc... But I am not going to bash a band just because they got radio play or because people outside of this special bubble have heard their music now. Sure I get bummed when I have to see a band I love in an arena as opposed to the smaller club Im used to seeing them in, but I don't begrudge their success. Hell, I am happy for them. They busted their asses to get there, so I am not going to dislike them unless they give me a reason to (aka putting out recent awful music, Im looking at you No Doubt.)
I guess in this roundabout way, I was trying to make the point that 1) I have a semi-serious music obsession and 2) I am perfectly cool with popular or...*gasp* pop music. I began thinking about this as I was having a legit debate/discussion with a friend about female pop vocalists. Like hardcore breaking down songs and melody lines and how they picked songs/handled certain genres. Now outwardly, this may appear odd or to some of the aforementioned hipsters, abhorrent, but fuck it. I like female vocals alot actually. Its a fantastic change of pace from most of the vocals I listen to and usually add a certain elegant element. For example, when I first found Paramore my sophmore year of college, I was immediately hooked, mostly by the outrageously awesome female vocal element. Anyways, I got to thinking about female pop. Its a genre that I definitely appreciate, but it specific doses. I think its a matter of really really liking what I do like because its littered with so much garbage. Maybe its because my Mom loves Whitney Houston (hell so does my Dad) and that was always playing when I was growing up, i dont know where the affinity came from. And I love creating lists. So without further ado, my top 5 favorite female pop songs of the last 3-5 years (in no particular order)
Kelly Clarkson-Behind These Hazel Eyes: My sister bought Breakaway and I thus decided I would give it a spin cause I always was impressed by Kelly Clarkson vocally. Then I heard this song, and was like, holy shit. She just gets after it. It immediately supplanted Since You Been Gone as the best thing she had ever done. Towards the end, the last chorus, around 2:30 and onward, there are the INSANE vocal double tracks where she is just dominating these highnotes over top of the actual chorus. That to me is how you get it done as a producer.
Alicia Keys-No One: Alright, I really really like and respect Alicia Keys. I own Alicia Keys CDs and think she is an absurd talent and was just what that genre needed when Songs in A Minor came out. But I never really was all about any singular song till I heard this jam. After I heard it on whatever awful MTV awards show she debuted it at, I scoured the internet til I found the demo...and then I played it for a bunch of people. Those who didn't appreciate it drew my ire and when it blew up, I felt satisfied to be ahead of the curve. That run she makes down ward at the start of the second verse, just ridiculous.
Nelly Furtado-Maneater: Nelly Furtado was the first female "popstar" I ever really got into. I still listen to Whoa Nelly. On the Radio was my jam and if I lived in the 80s, I would have plastered posters of her all over my room cause I was, and still probably am, in love with her. Then even though her second cd was baller, she vanished from the collective popular line of sight. When Promiscuous came out, I was mildly amused, but I wasn't too into it. And then I found Maneater. I initially thought it was going to be a cover of this, which would have been amazing cause thats my absolute favorite song of the 80s, but thats another matter. Then I quickly heard it in ever bar I ever entered. And normally that makes me hate songs due to the Tim Tebow effect of overexposure. But oddly I didn't and I still get pumped to hear it. And Nelly Furtado is still a fox.
Lady Gaga-Paparazzi: Lady Gaga is beyond fascinating to me. When I heard Just Dance, I was like meh. But then when I heard Poker Face, I began to delve into this chica a bit more. She is so bizarre, but yet so musically talented. We've been over my respect of her musical abilities, but Ive begun to love the just absolute absurdity of her whole persona. Its become really cool to hate on her lately, but I think its just haters. I'm not old enough to have experienced his heyday, but I bet it was the same for David Bowie. Dude dressed and pretended to be a damn alien for an entire cd. He got insanely popular putting a fresh twist on a common genre and probably was mocked in the meantime. The chorus of this song is just haunting and etheral, and just so damn good. And this video, I mean, so fucked up, but captivating. And she reminds me of Alice in Wonderland, which is never a bad thing. That movie rules. Its gotten to the point where I watch anything Lady Gaga on TV. I'm not sure why but damn, its intriguing. She wins.
Leona Lewis-Better in Time: I put this one last, cause though I have no real ranking, this is just so epically good, that I think it rises like cream. I heard Bleeding Love and thought it was catchy as hell, and I was like who is this Leona Lewis character. So I went to YouTube and found this masterpiece. I mentioned the Whitney Houston thing before, so I was like, this dime has RIDICULOUS pipes and anyone can appreciate that. So I downloaded Spirit, and I'll be damned if I don't listen to that with regularity. And this song? Just awesome, I don't know why, but its fricken sweet. Its just really damn good. Simple but effective lyrically, excellent and understated backing track, all around solid.
So yeah, I'm sure some would scoff at my honest admittance of such "guilty pleasures", but I frankly don't give a damn. My favorite quote from Almost Famous is what I always use when people bash pop music because its on the radio or whatever. Especially all the douche hipsters like my old roommate, I keep alluding to (damn, I was around them too much):
I've studied the entire history of music. Most of the time, the best stuff is the popular stuff. It's much safer to say popularity sucks, because that allows you to forgive yourself if you suck. And I don't forgive myself. Do you?
I'm gonna go listen to Halo now cause I have no shame, do you?
"Thought I couldn't live without you. It's gonna hurt when it heals too, It'll all get better in time"
JW
But its pretty ridiculous. Im not so much an elistist that I need to know and like bands people have never heard of. On the contrary, that gets obnoxious at times cause you want people to be familiar with your musical groups of choice, or at least I do, so you can discuss them or appreciate certain songs. For example, the emo/pop-punk/punk scene I was in in HS and college immediately turned on bands whenever they had success. It was just sooooo much cooler in their eyes to like bands that nobody had ever heard of. Don't get me wrong, its awesome to see bands in intimate venues, be ahead of the curve, etc... But I am not going to bash a band just because they got radio play or because people outside of this special bubble have heard their music now. Sure I get bummed when I have to see a band I love in an arena as opposed to the smaller club Im used to seeing them in, but I don't begrudge their success. Hell, I am happy for them. They busted their asses to get there, so I am not going to dislike them unless they give me a reason to (aka putting out recent awful music, Im looking at you No Doubt.)
I guess in this roundabout way, I was trying to make the point that 1) I have a semi-serious music obsession and 2) I am perfectly cool with popular or...*gasp* pop music. I began thinking about this as I was having a legit debate/discussion with a friend about female pop vocalists. Like hardcore breaking down songs and melody lines and how they picked songs/handled certain genres. Now outwardly, this may appear odd or to some of the aforementioned hipsters, abhorrent, but fuck it. I like female vocals alot actually. Its a fantastic change of pace from most of the vocals I listen to and usually add a certain elegant element. For example, when I first found Paramore my sophmore year of college, I was immediately hooked, mostly by the outrageously awesome female vocal element. Anyways, I got to thinking about female pop. Its a genre that I definitely appreciate, but it specific doses. I think its a matter of really really liking what I do like because its littered with so much garbage. Maybe its because my Mom loves Whitney Houston (hell so does my Dad) and that was always playing when I was growing up, i dont know where the affinity came from. And I love creating lists. So without further ado, my top 5 favorite female pop songs of the last 3-5 years (in no particular order)
Kelly Clarkson-Behind These Hazel Eyes: My sister bought Breakaway and I thus decided I would give it a spin cause I always was impressed by Kelly Clarkson vocally. Then I heard this song, and was like, holy shit. She just gets after it. It immediately supplanted Since You Been Gone as the best thing she had ever done. Towards the end, the last chorus, around 2:30 and onward, there are the INSANE vocal double tracks where she is just dominating these highnotes over top of the actual chorus. That to me is how you get it done as a producer.
Alicia Keys-No One: Alright, I really really like and respect Alicia Keys. I own Alicia Keys CDs and think she is an absurd talent and was just what that genre needed when Songs in A Minor came out. But I never really was all about any singular song till I heard this jam. After I heard it on whatever awful MTV awards show she debuted it at, I scoured the internet til I found the demo...and then I played it for a bunch of people. Those who didn't appreciate it drew my ire and when it blew up, I felt satisfied to be ahead of the curve. That run she makes down ward at the start of the second verse, just ridiculous.
Nelly Furtado-Maneater: Nelly Furtado was the first female "popstar" I ever really got into. I still listen to Whoa Nelly. On the Radio was my jam and if I lived in the 80s, I would have plastered posters of her all over my room cause I was, and still probably am, in love with her. Then even though her second cd was baller, she vanished from the collective popular line of sight. When Promiscuous came out, I was mildly amused, but I wasn't too into it. And then I found Maneater. I initially thought it was going to be a cover of this, which would have been amazing cause thats my absolute favorite song of the 80s, but thats another matter. Then I quickly heard it in ever bar I ever entered. And normally that makes me hate songs due to the Tim Tebow effect of overexposure. But oddly I didn't and I still get pumped to hear it. And Nelly Furtado is still a fox.
Lady Gaga-Paparazzi: Lady Gaga is beyond fascinating to me. When I heard Just Dance, I was like meh. But then when I heard Poker Face, I began to delve into this chica a bit more. She is so bizarre, but yet so musically talented. We've been over my respect of her musical abilities, but Ive begun to love the just absolute absurdity of her whole persona. Its become really cool to hate on her lately, but I think its just haters. I'm not old enough to have experienced his heyday, but I bet it was the same for David Bowie. Dude dressed and pretended to be a damn alien for an entire cd. He got insanely popular putting a fresh twist on a common genre and probably was mocked in the meantime. The chorus of this song is just haunting and etheral, and just so damn good. And this video, I mean, so fucked up, but captivating. And she reminds me of Alice in Wonderland, which is never a bad thing. That movie rules. Its gotten to the point where I watch anything Lady Gaga on TV. I'm not sure why but damn, its intriguing. She wins.
Leona Lewis-Better in Time: I put this one last, cause though I have no real ranking, this is just so epically good, that I think it rises like cream. I heard Bleeding Love and thought it was catchy as hell, and I was like who is this Leona Lewis character. So I went to YouTube and found this masterpiece. I mentioned the Whitney Houston thing before, so I was like, this dime has RIDICULOUS pipes and anyone can appreciate that. So I downloaded Spirit, and I'll be damned if I don't listen to that with regularity. And this song? Just awesome, I don't know why, but its fricken sweet. Its just really damn good. Simple but effective lyrically, excellent and understated backing track, all around solid.
So yeah, I'm sure some would scoff at my honest admittance of such "guilty pleasures", but I frankly don't give a damn. My favorite quote from Almost Famous is what I always use when people bash pop music because its on the radio or whatever. Especially all the douche hipsters like my old roommate, I keep alluding to (damn, I was around them too much):
I've studied the entire history of music. Most of the time, the best stuff is the popular stuff. It's much safer to say popularity sucks, because that allows you to forgive yourself if you suck. And I don't forgive myself. Do you?
I'm gonna go listen to Halo now cause I have no shame, do you?
"Thought I couldn't live without you. It's gonna hurt when it heals too, It'll all get better in time"
JW
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Well I guess this is growing up...
Well, where to begin. So much has happened since I began slacking on my blog game.
Hmm, well, last week I turned 24. While many would scoff at the idea of feeling "old" at 24, bear with me for a precious few seconds. Its the first birthday where Ive sort of felt like I was stepping off the high dive into the murky waters of adulthood. My 23rd birthday was the cusp of moving to Chicago and other "adult" activities/landmarks, but I was still just 2 months removed from college graduation and still living at home, sorting out the job situation. Now I mean, 24 is almost halfway through this little 20s phase in my life, and while I still realized I'm "young" per se, there is still that feeling. On the flip side, thats one of my favorite things about being in the "real world" and such. Seeing as I took a satisfying 5 years to explore my way through college, by the time I graduated, I was somewhat of the "elder" statesmen. And I can tell you, that was foreign and quite odd. Being a summer birthday, I was always the youngest in my grade. On my dad's side, I had a bunch of older cousins. I liked being young. Felt like I had potential, tons of stuff ahead of me. Being the older one was odd. I was the oldest of the 4 kids in my family, that was enough. Now being the ripe old age of 24, I feel "old-ish" yet I am constantly reminded by co-workers, family members, and other people I run into, how young I am. Thats nice, suddenly I don't feel all old again. Im the young Turk with hopes and dreams and limitless horizon, hurrah!
So this past week I was in NYC. 2 summers ago, I interned on Long Island. Since my Dad is in the diamond business, his company naturally does ridiculous amounts of work in NYC. Thus, they have an apartment as it ends up being more cost effective than getting a hotel each time. So I had the priviledge of spending most of my weekends in Manhattan. However, I hadn't been back since that summer, so I was pretty stoked to return. My first thoughts were of the variety that I often had when I was there 2 years ago. For such a dynamic, enormous, seemingly impersonal city...sometimes it feels unchanged and oh so familiar. I was there for 30 min and felt like I never left. I saw the same dogs that I'd seen, stuff smelled the same, it was just kind of surreal. Maybe it was because I essentially lived there for 3 months. That also made it cool because I felt no need to specifically DO anything. I didn't need to see tourist attractions or get a ton of activities accomplished. I could just enjoy the city...and drink my face off. The whole bars are open till 4 is just awesome. Its not like Chicago where there are "late-night" bars that are open till 4. I mean, everything is open till 4 so it doesnt make it feel like you were out till some ungodly hour like it does when it get after in the Windy City. For that, I thank you New York. But it also makes me realize a pet peeve of mine: when people compare Chicago and New York. You just can't. There are pluses and minuses to both, but its apples to oranges. New York is a metropolis that you don't find anywhere else in the country, whereas Chicago is a big city. While there are similarities, the differences just make it non comparable. Maybe its just my completely separate love for both cities, idk, I just hate when people like to bash Chicago for the simple reason that its not NYC.
In my ongoing commentary about the CTA, the trip to the Big Apple did bring to light one difference. The Subway utterly kicks the EL's ass. Yes its dirty and mostly underground so its hot as hell and smells funky, but the trains are so much more efficient and on time and you normally don't have some ridiculous walk because the train routes are pretty narrow. I actually find it fast to take the subway at times to certain "far" places in Manhattan as opposed to taking a cab. Thats almost never true in Chicago.
Speaking of cabs, I always complain about Chicago cabs being sheisty and overpriced compared to NYC cabs. Well, my lauding of NYC cabs obviously came around to bite me this trip as I had the worst experiences ever. My cab from the airport tried to charge me $5 more plus a toll I didn't authorize. I had a cab that picked such a purposefully terrible route to get a higher fare as we sat in traffic that I got out and went to the nearest subway. And then my final cab back to the airport, the cabbie picked me up in the middle of Manhattan and then drove all the way to the west side in the complete opposite direction of the airport to "get a better route." No, fuck you sir! I will not authorize this charge of an extra 5 bucks as you drive me on some damn sightseeing tour of the Westside Highway. I definitely spent 10-15 min arguing with cabbies this weekend, which I didn't plan on. Thankfully, I seem to be quite intimidating, or just correct, thus I won everytime. I should be a cab negociator. I bet there is a market for that.
Just as I was thinking maybe I should just start trying to ride buses, the CTA bus system gently took me aside...and punched me right in the face. I get back to O'Hare around 6:15 and land at the brand new runway...which happens to be somewhere in Iowa. So after taxing for about 3 hours, we finally arrive at the gate and I trek over to the Blue Line station. After riding the crusty Blue Line for a good 40 min to the Division stop, I rise up from underground looking forward to getting quickly onto the Division bus and getting home to eat. However, as I stand at the stop, I look westward on Division for the bus and see nothing but tumbleweeds, a distant oasis, and some hipsters wearing flannel and black jeans though its 80 degrees out. So I figure I'll save some time and walk east a bit to the next stop as I wait for the bus to arrive. Well I start walking...and walking...and walking. I walked until a bus finally passed me and I got on...a block and a half from my intersection. As you can see by this excellent map, I treked across half of Chicago. CTA...can suck it. Not to mention, I was walking through an area that I later, when speaking to my mother, referred to as "the land Chicago forgot". There was no sign of life. Im pretty sure animals and bugs avoided this industrial wasteland as even they can't subsist on garbage, rusted metal and used condoms. Despite the fact that I could see the Chicago skyline nearby, I could of swore I was meadering through bombed out Sarajevo. So thank you CTA for having horrible bus schedules on Sunday's around 7 PM allowing me to work up a horrendous sweat while dragging luggage around urban hell.
On a positive note, Sherwood-For the Longest Time is a splendid song. It sounds like pop-punk mixed with the Beach Boys. Oddly enough, it works...and works so well. Ive found myself listening to it around 8 times per workday. And normally that dries songs out like a salted slug, but this stays fresh like a sealed bag of marshmellows. The rest of their catalog is pretty solid. Not as splendid, but definitely worth listening to. Yeah, I think I'm going to go listen to it again...
"Cause in the longest line, The front and the back are the same sometimes..."
JW
Hmm, well, last week I turned 24. While many would scoff at the idea of feeling "old" at 24, bear with me for a precious few seconds. Its the first birthday where Ive sort of felt like I was stepping off the high dive into the murky waters of adulthood. My 23rd birthday was the cusp of moving to Chicago and other "adult" activities/landmarks, but I was still just 2 months removed from college graduation and still living at home, sorting out the job situation. Now I mean, 24 is almost halfway through this little 20s phase in my life, and while I still realized I'm "young" per se, there is still that feeling. On the flip side, thats one of my favorite things about being in the "real world" and such. Seeing as I took a satisfying 5 years to explore my way through college, by the time I graduated, I was somewhat of the "elder" statesmen. And I can tell you, that was foreign and quite odd. Being a summer birthday, I was always the youngest in my grade. On my dad's side, I had a bunch of older cousins. I liked being young. Felt like I had potential, tons of stuff ahead of me. Being the older one was odd. I was the oldest of the 4 kids in my family, that was enough. Now being the ripe old age of 24, I feel "old-ish" yet I am constantly reminded by co-workers, family members, and other people I run into, how young I am. Thats nice, suddenly I don't feel all old again. Im the young Turk with hopes and dreams and limitless horizon, hurrah!
So this past week I was in NYC. 2 summers ago, I interned on Long Island. Since my Dad is in the diamond business, his company naturally does ridiculous amounts of work in NYC. Thus, they have an apartment as it ends up being more cost effective than getting a hotel each time. So I had the priviledge of spending most of my weekends in Manhattan. However, I hadn't been back since that summer, so I was pretty stoked to return. My first thoughts were of the variety that I often had when I was there 2 years ago. For such a dynamic, enormous, seemingly impersonal city...sometimes it feels unchanged and oh so familiar. I was there for 30 min and felt like I never left. I saw the same dogs that I'd seen, stuff smelled the same, it was just kind of surreal. Maybe it was because I essentially lived there for 3 months. That also made it cool because I felt no need to specifically DO anything. I didn't need to see tourist attractions or get a ton of activities accomplished. I could just enjoy the city...and drink my face off. The whole bars are open till 4 is just awesome. Its not like Chicago where there are "late-night" bars that are open till 4. I mean, everything is open till 4 so it doesnt make it feel like you were out till some ungodly hour like it does when it get after in the Windy City. For that, I thank you New York. But it also makes me realize a pet peeve of mine: when people compare Chicago and New York. You just can't. There are pluses and minuses to both, but its apples to oranges. New York is a metropolis that you don't find anywhere else in the country, whereas Chicago is a big city. While there are similarities, the differences just make it non comparable. Maybe its just my completely separate love for both cities, idk, I just hate when people like to bash Chicago for the simple reason that its not NYC.
In my ongoing commentary about the CTA, the trip to the Big Apple did bring to light one difference. The Subway utterly kicks the EL's ass. Yes its dirty and mostly underground so its hot as hell and smells funky, but the trains are so much more efficient and on time and you normally don't have some ridiculous walk because the train routes are pretty narrow. I actually find it fast to take the subway at times to certain "far" places in Manhattan as opposed to taking a cab. Thats almost never true in Chicago.
Speaking of cabs, I always complain about Chicago cabs being sheisty and overpriced compared to NYC cabs. Well, my lauding of NYC cabs obviously came around to bite me this trip as I had the worst experiences ever. My cab from the airport tried to charge me $5 more plus a toll I didn't authorize. I had a cab that picked such a purposefully terrible route to get a higher fare as we sat in traffic that I got out and went to the nearest subway. And then my final cab back to the airport, the cabbie picked me up in the middle of Manhattan and then drove all the way to the west side in the complete opposite direction of the airport to "get a better route." No, fuck you sir! I will not authorize this charge of an extra 5 bucks as you drive me on some damn sightseeing tour of the Westside Highway. I definitely spent 10-15 min arguing with cabbies this weekend, which I didn't plan on. Thankfully, I seem to be quite intimidating, or just correct, thus I won everytime. I should be a cab negociator. I bet there is a market for that.
Just as I was thinking maybe I should just start trying to ride buses, the CTA bus system gently took me aside...and punched me right in the face. I get back to O'Hare around 6:15 and land at the brand new runway...which happens to be somewhere in Iowa. So after taxing for about 3 hours, we finally arrive at the gate and I trek over to the Blue Line station. After riding the crusty Blue Line for a good 40 min to the Division stop, I rise up from underground looking forward to getting quickly onto the Division bus and getting home to eat. However, as I stand at the stop, I look westward on Division for the bus and see nothing but tumbleweeds, a distant oasis, and some hipsters wearing flannel and black jeans though its 80 degrees out. So I figure I'll save some time and walk east a bit to the next stop as I wait for the bus to arrive. Well I start walking...and walking...and walking. I walked until a bus finally passed me and I got on...a block and a half from my intersection. As you can see by this excellent map, I treked across half of Chicago. CTA...can suck it. Not to mention, I was walking through an area that I later, when speaking to my mother, referred to as "the land Chicago forgot". There was no sign of life. Im pretty sure animals and bugs avoided this industrial wasteland as even they can't subsist on garbage, rusted metal and used condoms. Despite the fact that I could see the Chicago skyline nearby, I could of swore I was meadering through bombed out Sarajevo. So thank you CTA for having horrible bus schedules on Sunday's around 7 PM allowing me to work up a horrendous sweat while dragging luggage around urban hell.
On a positive note, Sherwood-For the Longest Time is a splendid song. It sounds like pop-punk mixed with the Beach Boys. Oddly enough, it works...and works so well. Ive found myself listening to it around 8 times per workday. And normally that dries songs out like a salted slug, but this stays fresh like a sealed bag of marshmellows. The rest of their catalog is pretty solid. Not as splendid, but definitely worth listening to. Yeah, I think I'm going to go listen to it again...
"Cause in the longest line, The front and the back are the same sometimes..."
JW
Monday, July 6, 2009
Is this hotel pager friendly?
So last week, I came to the realization that for some reason, when it comes to the homeless, people needing random strangers, people selling random nonsense, I have a giant "I am kind and tolerating of your approach" bullseye on my face. But the thing is, I am not that individual. I have a certain inherent sadness and pity for the homeless, but seeing as I am currently not flush with monies and I value my quarters for the 25c vending and soda machines at work. Thus I cannot contribute to their malt liquor and cheeseburger fund.
Anyways, last Monday, I had no less than 6-8 specific direct approaches towards me, exempting all others around me. When I left my office to take a lunchtime walk, I passed a homeless man who I politely apologized to when he asked me for change. This prompted him to say "Come on man, I can tell you have money on you!" What? Seriously? How did he spot me out in a downtown crowd to accuse of holding back change?! And mind you, I have no dress code at work, so I was rocking a t-shirt, looking positively average. I left my Armani suit and Prada shoes home that day. Well anyways, mildly peturbed, I continue deeper into down coming to a fairly busy corner at Randolph and LaSalle. There a youngish blond girl was excitedly waving to someone. I kind of glanced behind me assuming she saw a friend. Then I realized she was motioning to me. Quickly ascertaining I had no clue who this chica was and noticing she had a clipboard, I shifted to thoughts of "You're kidding me, why me again?"
Girl: "Hey there."
Me: *placating half-smile*
Girl: "How old are you?!"
Me: "Not old enough, sorry."
Girl: "Just come over here!"
Me: "Thats not gonna happen."
I am rarely that brisk, normally giving a smile and a no thank you. But by this point, I'm getting peeved. I understand those people have a job to do (as do the homeless I guess), I was in sales once, I don't derive pleasure from blowing these people off. Yet I keep getting into these situations, and clearly I am going to deny them, so my patience is tested.
Later that night, I go to the Taste of Chicago with some friends. No sooner do I tell them about my unfortunate occurances, which naturally they found humorous (cause if it wasn't me it would be), then I am approached by a gentleman who asks me if I have any extra tickets. Now at the Taste, you buy 12 tickets for $8 and those tickets are your currency to purchase food. 4 tickets gets you some gazpacho and 6 gets you some goat meat with special rice from a Caribbean stand, etc... Well, I politely tell him no as I have not even gotten food yet while also ponder that its a pretty good gig for a homeless dude, or even someone who just feels like mooching some free food. Stand by the exit and pick off some leftover tix. Well over the next hour, I am approached directly, but not my friends, by 3-4 different people within the festival asking for my tix. This included a woman who got about 6 in from my face asking me "Are you using those tickets?" when I had about 8 in my hand. Of course I am, its not like I have 1 or 2. I didn't buy these just to make it rain on you and your friends like dollar bills at Scores. Yes, this woman was in a group of people, so its not like she was just hungry. She was there with a group of people and looking to scrounge up some free morsels...cheap skank. The most disturbing of these was a middle-aged gentleman kind of wandering around a center area awkwardly asking passers-by for tickets. He was wearing khakis and a horrendous button-down, but gave no impression of being impoverished. He was carrying a briefcase and just really acting in an odd fashion. I have no clue what was going on there, but of course he approached me and I chalked it up to the lunacy of my day.
So thinking the schenanigans were over, we left the Taste for the Red Line to travel home. Well as the 3 of us approach the train station, two, umm, urban youths sitting next to the entrance immediately hop up and make a beeline for us. Well, the one did. And by us, I mean...of course, me. Extending his hand, he offers "Hey man, hold up, let me talk to you for a minute." FML...No good can come of this situation, no matter how innocuous, so I just tell him sorry and that I have to catch my train. I am immediately peppered with insults.
"You didn't have to be rude man."
"Cheap ass motherfucker."
"Wearing that blue shirt you fucking faggot."
Just awesome, what a picture perfect ending to a picture perfect day. So all of you out there who are either looking for change, bus fare, donations...please leave me along for like 6 months and then I will have regained my patience and my monetary backing. Then I will be glad to entertain your spiel. Until then, please tell me what I can do facially to convey my lack of desire to hook you up. Thanks.
So other randomness:
-This song is currently my jam and I don't care what sort of social reprecussions it has. I think its baller and I am unashamed of my enjoyment of it.
-"I'm 'a go where I always go; Drinks are on the house,
Whiskey's on the rocks while your sister's on my mouth"
That is my favorite lyric of the moment, it has no deep meaning. Its just stuck in my hand and its pretty happily staying there.
-Frasier is a hilarious show that I don't think my demographic properly appreciates.
-A full year out of college, I have just finally started to master the puke and rally.
-I love Orbit's Sangria Fresca gum. Its delicious.
So on a monthly basis, I choose one of my favorite bands to just listen to repeatedly. I put their cd's in my work playlists in addition to whatever I'm feeling. This month its the Academy Is... Yet another band I started listening to in HS that suddenly appeared everywhere and then by the time I graduated college, on every teen playlist. But I still love this band. They do pop-punk as well as anyone. Their newest cd, Fast Times at Barrington High, pretty solid. Nothing like their debut, but a solid cd nonetheless. Listen to One More Weekend and thank me later. Attention, Same Blood, Almost Here, and Neighbors are also all worth spinning and getting an idea how baller they are.
"You'll go off, you'll forget, you'll grow out of hanging from the edges, breaking off the past..."
JW
Anyways, last Monday, I had no less than 6-8 specific direct approaches towards me, exempting all others around me. When I left my office to take a lunchtime walk, I passed a homeless man who I politely apologized to when he asked me for change. This prompted him to say "Come on man, I can tell you have money on you!" What? Seriously? How did he spot me out in a downtown crowd to accuse of holding back change?! And mind you, I have no dress code at work, so I was rocking a t-shirt, looking positively average. I left my Armani suit and Prada shoes home that day. Well anyways, mildly peturbed, I continue deeper into down coming to a fairly busy corner at Randolph and LaSalle. There a youngish blond girl was excitedly waving to someone. I kind of glanced behind me assuming she saw a friend. Then I realized she was motioning to me. Quickly ascertaining I had no clue who this chica was and noticing she had a clipboard, I shifted to thoughts of "You're kidding me, why me again?"
Girl: "Hey there."
Me: *placating half-smile*
Girl: "How old are you?!"
Me: "Not old enough, sorry."
Girl: "Just come over here!"
Me: "Thats not gonna happen."
I am rarely that brisk, normally giving a smile and a no thank you. But by this point, I'm getting peeved. I understand those people have a job to do (as do the homeless I guess), I was in sales once, I don't derive pleasure from blowing these people off. Yet I keep getting into these situations, and clearly I am going to deny them, so my patience is tested.
Later that night, I go to the Taste of Chicago with some friends. No sooner do I tell them about my unfortunate occurances, which naturally they found humorous (cause if it wasn't me it would be), then I am approached by a gentleman who asks me if I have any extra tickets. Now at the Taste, you buy 12 tickets for $8 and those tickets are your currency to purchase food. 4 tickets gets you some gazpacho and 6 gets you some goat meat with special rice from a Caribbean stand, etc... Well, I politely tell him no as I have not even gotten food yet while also ponder that its a pretty good gig for a homeless dude, or even someone who just feels like mooching some free food. Stand by the exit and pick off some leftover tix. Well over the next hour, I am approached directly, but not my friends, by 3-4 different people within the festival asking for my tix. This included a woman who got about 6 in from my face asking me "Are you using those tickets?" when I had about 8 in my hand. Of course I am, its not like I have 1 or 2. I didn't buy these just to make it rain on you and your friends like dollar bills at Scores. Yes, this woman was in a group of people, so its not like she was just hungry. She was there with a group of people and looking to scrounge up some free morsels...cheap skank. The most disturbing of these was a middle-aged gentleman kind of wandering around a center area awkwardly asking passers-by for tickets. He was wearing khakis and a horrendous button-down, but gave no impression of being impoverished. He was carrying a briefcase and just really acting in an odd fashion. I have no clue what was going on there, but of course he approached me and I chalked it up to the lunacy of my day.
So thinking the schenanigans were over, we left the Taste for the Red Line to travel home. Well as the 3 of us approach the train station, two, umm, urban youths sitting next to the entrance immediately hop up and make a beeline for us. Well, the one did. And by us, I mean...of course, me. Extending his hand, he offers "Hey man, hold up, let me talk to you for a minute." FML...No good can come of this situation, no matter how innocuous, so I just tell him sorry and that I have to catch my train. I am immediately peppered with insults.
"You didn't have to be rude man."
"Cheap ass motherfucker."
"Wearing that blue shirt you fucking faggot."
Just awesome, what a picture perfect ending to a picture perfect day. So all of you out there who are either looking for change, bus fare, donations...please leave me along for like 6 months and then I will have regained my patience and my monetary backing. Then I will be glad to entertain your spiel. Until then, please tell me what I can do facially to convey my lack of desire to hook you up. Thanks.
So other randomness:
-This song is currently my jam and I don't care what sort of social reprecussions it has. I think its baller and I am unashamed of my enjoyment of it.
-"I'm 'a go where I always go; Drinks are on the house,
Whiskey's on the rocks while your sister's on my mouth"
That is my favorite lyric of the moment, it has no deep meaning. Its just stuck in my hand and its pretty happily staying there.
-Frasier is a hilarious show that I don't think my demographic properly appreciates.
-A full year out of college, I have just finally started to master the puke and rally.
-I love Orbit's Sangria Fresca gum. Its delicious.
So on a monthly basis, I choose one of my favorite bands to just listen to repeatedly. I put their cd's in my work playlists in addition to whatever I'm feeling. This month its the Academy Is... Yet another band I started listening to in HS that suddenly appeared everywhere and then by the time I graduated college, on every teen playlist. But I still love this band. They do pop-punk as well as anyone. Their newest cd, Fast Times at Barrington High, pretty solid. Nothing like their debut, but a solid cd nonetheless. Listen to One More Weekend and thank me later. Attention, Same Blood, Almost Here, and Neighbors are also all worth spinning and getting an idea how baller they are.
"You'll go off, you'll forget, you'll grow out of hanging from the edges, breaking off the past..."
JW
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
