I would sell you for crack
This week has been longer than most. It's like it sucked the life out of the other weeks and sits as one bloated, glaze-glowing roast with stuffing oozing out of its exhausted shell. I went to Interpol/Secret Machines in Columbus on Saturday evening. Secret Machines: Great, Interpol: Poo. As far as I can tell, there are two types of great music: that which is refined from baser iterations and that which bridges previously unconnected genres like some sonic pontoon bridge. Interpol plays well and their songs are competent, but I can hear little to make me feel as though I haven't heard this done before and catchier in other neo-glam outfits(Placebo anyone?). The only difference is that Interpol has the respect of the college crowd; Placebo is too far-reatching to garner any sort of props therein. I honestly and truly did want to be possessed by an appreciation for Interpol by seeing them live, but the lights were too bright and the music too disposable. Plus the traveling keyboardist wore a beret (sp?); fucking shoot me in the face. The Secret Machines were quacktastic however. They have a shoegaze performance style which is as disengaging as some of their songs, but I'll be damned if that single ain't the most addictive thing on two legs. Plus they're adorable.
That marked the first Saturday I haven't spent drinking my socks off my ass. The drive home was exhausting and philosophy taunted me like that cocktease in the dorm across the quad. The midterm was more difficult off which to charm the pants though. It was like I was taking AP tests again; so much writing and so little time. Now I'm done with midterms.
To celebrate I went to Blonde Redhead Tuesday night. I piled six people into Civi and was off. Judas and I shared a moment of unconditional life-affirming revelation when he desperately clutched the top bar as I passed a semi. He thinks he want to die, but I proved him a liar.
Aside from a blown amp they were amazing. No need to elaborate on that.
Yesterday was spent reading from when classes ended until about 2am. I'm trying to catch up on what I should have done last night and prepare for the parents weekend. Mom and Dad are visiting and I'm really eager to see them and exploit their wallets. I haven't cut my hair or done the laundry in a while, so hopefully they'll let me stay here. One reason I don't cut my hair is because the barber is absolutely nuts. Not in a cool "man you're crazy dude" way; I mean intensely off-putting, to the extent that his insanity isn't really abject and terrible but more subdued and ominous. Any minute he may put the scissors straight through my ear, but otherwise we talk about weather. Anyhoo, I wish I had stuff for my parents to do but there just isn't anything in Gambier. We'll probably spend most of the weekend in Columbus eating real food.
Mama Tigs is loading them up with pizza too. Dave: be jealous.
The postcards are in the works. I've sent out a few and more are to be created within the next couple weeks. I've been really hit with work recently though so bear with me. They'll be so fucking worth it.
And I guess I should finally mention to those who might not know that my kittie Scout has been missing for a good month and a half now. We presume she's gone forever and few things provide me with more grief. We're aiming to get Mollie a few companions but it's still ridiculously sad. The problem is that I forget about it because I'm not there to be in Scout's absence. It hits me sometimes and I get momentarily depressed. Fuck, it happened again...
That marked the first Saturday I haven't spent drinking my socks off my ass. The drive home was exhausting and philosophy taunted me like that cocktease in the dorm across the quad. The midterm was more difficult off which to charm the pants though. It was like I was taking AP tests again; so much writing and so little time. Now I'm done with midterms.
To celebrate I went to Blonde Redhead Tuesday night. I piled six people into Civi and was off. Judas and I shared a moment of unconditional life-affirming revelation when he desperately clutched the top bar as I passed a semi. He thinks he want to die, but I proved him a liar.
Aside from a blown amp they were amazing. No need to elaborate on that.
Yesterday was spent reading from when classes ended until about 2am. I'm trying to catch up on what I should have done last night and prepare for the parents weekend. Mom and Dad are visiting and I'm really eager to see them and exploit their wallets. I haven't cut my hair or done the laundry in a while, so hopefully they'll let me stay here. One reason I don't cut my hair is because the barber is absolutely nuts. Not in a cool "man you're crazy dude" way; I mean intensely off-putting, to the extent that his insanity isn't really abject and terrible but more subdued and ominous. Any minute he may put the scissors straight through my ear, but otherwise we talk about weather. Anyhoo, I wish I had stuff for my parents to do but there just isn't anything in Gambier. We'll probably spend most of the weekend in Columbus eating real food.
Mama Tigs is loading them up with pizza too. Dave: be jealous.
The postcards are in the works. I've sent out a few and more are to be created within the next couple weeks. I've been really hit with work recently though so bear with me. They'll be so fucking worth it.
And I guess I should finally mention to those who might not know that my kittie Scout has been missing for a good month and a half now. We presume she's gone forever and few things provide me with more grief. We're aiming to get Mollie a few companions but it's still ridiculously sad. The problem is that I forget about it because I'm not there to be in Scout's absence. It hits me sometimes and I get momentarily depressed. Fuck, it happened again...