There's a dirty wind blowing
The storm front, though, is not so much moving in as right on top of us, sending recycling boxes to impede unwary motorists, howling over the chimney and bouncing dead fronds off the palm tree next door into my window.
I've been puttering back and forth to work, the world's most boring commute; taking pictures when I can snatch a moment with light and without rain; talking to my ex in a strangely companionable way on gchat, even though there will, eventually, have to be an awkward conversation about important things; poking vaguely at my thesis to figure out a shape for book proposal or paper or something. Mostly I'm waiting to hear back about things. Suits the weather.
Also somehow fallen into watching Fringe; me and Sinking Boy have developed a new ritual of evenings on his incredibly ugly incredibly comfy sofa with tea and weird, creepy, gory, brilliant scifi show and then I borrow huge stacks of his books before I go home and read them all before next week. And oh Fringe, so good, I had exactly the same reaction to Olivia as I had to Aeryn Sun. Clearly Australia grows these amazing female actors just for me. Also Walter. Oh Walter. Oh dear.
I've been listening to Bell X1's new song a lot (they get inside my head in mood appropriate ways every time and I went to the acoustic show in the Empire and they've been in there bouncing about ever since) and now they have a peculiarly dreamy video of it's making up. I really like this song, all about being little and living inside your head and watching The Den all summer and that one kid who was your absolute, no questions asked hero. Still a wee bit Talking Heads, but refined beautifully, all that delicate clever lyricism that I associate with them pulled together with really good sounds. And I've never yet got tired of watching them all be awesomely competent multi-instrumentalists and Paul Noonan not falling over.
Hey Anna Lena, let's get married
Let's get out of this place
Just take what you can carry
I got the pink lilo
Won't need much where we're going
Can I get a whip there
Let's take your sister, and let's go
Hey Anna Lena, for a childhood poet
May the force be with you
Because you're worth it
We leave at first light
When the house is still quiet
Just act casual, like you do this all the time
Uh-oh, Five-Oh
Uh-oh, Five-Oh
Hey Anna Lena, between me and you
There's only so much
Popeye can do
To teach you how
But when the girl of your dreams
Beat up that guy
That eats your greens
Hey Anna Lena, I think I know
The hills where your life rose
The hills where your life rose
I may be only
Five years old
But I think that I know the sea where it goes
The sea where it goes
The sea where life goes
Together the hills where your life rose
Together we'll see where it goes
Think I know the hills where your life rose
Together we'll see where it goes
I've been puttering back and forth to work, the world's most boring commute; taking pictures when I can snatch a moment with light and without rain; talking to my ex in a strangely companionable way on gchat, even though there will, eventually, have to be an awkward conversation about important things; poking vaguely at my thesis to figure out a shape for book proposal or paper or something. Mostly I'm waiting to hear back about things. Suits the weather.
Also somehow fallen into watching Fringe; me and Sinking Boy have developed a new ritual of evenings on his incredibly ugly incredibly comfy sofa with tea and weird, creepy, gory, brilliant scifi show and then I borrow huge stacks of his books before I go home and read them all before next week. And oh Fringe, so good, I had exactly the same reaction to Olivia as I had to Aeryn Sun. Clearly Australia grows these amazing female actors just for me. Also Walter. Oh Walter. Oh dear.
I've been listening to Bell X1's new song a lot (they get inside my head in mood appropriate ways every time and I went to the acoustic show in the Empire and they've been in there bouncing about ever since) and now they have a peculiarly dreamy video of it's making up. I really like this song, all about being little and living inside your head and watching The Den all summer and that one kid who was your absolute, no questions asked hero. Still a wee bit Talking Heads, but refined beautifully, all that delicate clever lyricism that I associate with them pulled together with really good sounds. And I've never yet got tired of watching them all be awesomely competent multi-instrumentalists and Paul Noonan not falling over.
Click to viewHey Anna Lena, let's get married
Let's get out of this place
Just take what you can carry
I got the pink lilo
Won't need much where we're going
Can I get a whip there
Let's take your sister, and let's go
Hey Anna Lena, for a childhood poet
May the force be with you
Because you're worth it
We leave at first light
When the house is still quiet
Just act casual, like you do this all the time
Uh-oh, Five-Oh
Uh-oh, Five-Oh
Hey Anna Lena, between me and you
There's only so much
Popeye can do
To teach you how
But when the girl of your dreams
Beat up that guy
That eats your greens
Hey Anna Lena, I think I know
The hills where your life rose
The hills where your life rose
I may be only
Five years old
But I think that I know the sea where it goes
The sea where it goes
The sea where life goes
Together the hills where your life rose
Together we'll see where it goes
Think I know the hills where your life rose
Together we'll see where it goes