Movies and eggs. Like Kegs and Eggs, but with less rhyming.
I registered for vividcon.... just in time for my vidding computer to break. I am bereft. Or in denial. Depends on the time of day.
Various other annoying and embarrassing things have happened in the last few days, but let us not dwell on them. Instead:
I
I went and saw The White Stripes: Under the Great Northern Lights on Friday. I didn't know much about the band other than I like a handful of their songs and think they're incredibly photogenic, in the way only a couple of people who look like they've been designed by Tim Burton could be. The film didn't provide much insight into their lives, but it offered a nice look at their performance style and formed a meta-concert as they traversed Canada on their Icky Thump tour. The most notable part for me was when Jack talked about how he loves working within punishing restrictions -- that, besides the formula they've laid out for themselves when they write songs, reworking the same elements for each album -- like writing a sestina, or any structured poem -- he tries to force himself to be in the moment in each performance, to make it more powerful, by creating handicaps for himself like only having one guitar pick and placing the organ far enough away from the mic that he has to move fast to get to it in time for solos.
I love that Jack appears perfectly comfortable doing things like performing in a kilt and singing mournful love songs originally written by women without changing the sex of the love interest, and that it all occurs without fanfare. I love watching Meg play the drums, and that when she isn't pounding away at them, she chooses to be quiet and is comfortable with that. While there've been far more illuminating rockumentaries, this did include a full performance of "Jolene" and introduced me to Black Jack Davy and White Moon. I don't know how I've missed "Black Jack Davy" in all these years of loving exactly that kind of folk music.
II
Joined Netflix on Saturday. Promptly watched Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog, a documentary called Seamless about young fashion designers competing for a Vogue/CFDA fellowship, Stephen Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience with *cough* Sasha Grey, a bunch of 30 Rock episodes, and a random German gay prison semi-porno love story.
III
Went to brunch with a Meetup.com group of women around my age, who turned out to be great. The poached eggs and smoked salmon were tasty, too.
IV (sort of)
One of these days I need to redo that top five sexy celebrities thing. I can't believe I left out Mick Jagger.
p.s. What's up with the LJ back/next/track bars?
Various other annoying and embarrassing things have happened in the last few days, but let us not dwell on them. Instead:
I
I went and saw The White Stripes: Under the Great Northern Lights on Friday. I didn't know much about the band other than I like a handful of their songs and think they're incredibly photogenic, in the way only a couple of people who look like they've been designed by Tim Burton could be. The film didn't provide much insight into their lives, but it offered a nice look at their performance style and formed a meta-concert as they traversed Canada on their Icky Thump tour. The most notable part for me was when Jack talked about how he loves working within punishing restrictions -- that, besides the formula they've laid out for themselves when they write songs, reworking the same elements for each album -- like writing a sestina, or any structured poem -- he tries to force himself to be in the moment in each performance, to make it more powerful, by creating handicaps for himself like only having one guitar pick and placing the organ far enough away from the mic that he has to move fast to get to it in time for solos.
I love that Jack appears perfectly comfortable doing things like performing in a kilt and singing mournful love songs originally written by women without changing the sex of the love interest, and that it all occurs without fanfare. I love watching Meg play the drums, and that when she isn't pounding away at them, she chooses to be quiet and is comfortable with that. While there've been far more illuminating rockumentaries, this did include a full performance of "Jolene" and introduced me to Black Jack Davy and White Moon. I don't know how I've missed "Black Jack Davy" in all these years of loving exactly that kind of folk music.
II
Joined Netflix on Saturday. Promptly watched Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog, a documentary called Seamless about young fashion designers competing for a Vogue/CFDA fellowship, Stephen Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience with *cough* Sasha Grey, a bunch of 30 Rock episodes, and a random German gay prison semi-porno love story.
III
Went to brunch with a Meetup.com group of women around my age, who turned out to be great. The poached eggs and smoked salmon were tasty, too.
IV (sort of)
One of these days I need to redo that top five sexy celebrities thing. I can't believe I left out Mick Jagger.
p.s. What's up with the LJ back/next/track bars?