( The Movies )

( The Movies )

I've been spending a little too much time in a funny place in my head lately. Despite the overall Monday-ness of today, I'm trying to remember all the other things - to restructure the narrative, so to speak - to shine the light in the brighter corners. There are so many. The weekend was so full of goodness, from drinking at Billy Ray's (and ( Read more... )

I love you, Pandora. I only have one easily accessible Throwing Muses record, and I want to bathe in these songs after finishing Rat Girl, Kristin Hersh's gorgeous memoir of the year her band got signed and she got pregnant.

Sophomore year of college had such a specific soundtrack. Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. Hole's Live Through This. ( Read more... )

Well, dharmab, I'm - hopefully! - coming to SF ( Read more... )

( Day 04: Your music )

The National is doing just that: snapping heartstrings and tying them back together, again and again. It's "England," and I don't want to know what the words really are, because I hear "Afraid of the house / stay the night with the sinners," and that's what I want it to say. That's what I want to hear ( Read more... )

Baking, I sometimes forget, makes me happy. For the last three hours, give or take time to drink a margarita, eat some bread and cheese and debate groups and belonging to them, I've been measuring cocoa powder and blending softened butter and staring - I admit, a little crankily - at my 9" cake pans when I realized they were not, in fact, 2" deep. ( Read more... )

Ben Gibbard, "You Remind Me of Home"
You remind me of home ( Read more... )

Maybe it's the weather; maybe it's the thousands of words I just need to write; maybe it's something magical that only happens every so often. Whatever it is, this new Horse Feathers album, Thistled Spring, is casting a spell on me. It results in goosebumps and an awareness of the way the rain outside comes and goes against the tiny window. It ( Read more... )