pants are for the weak minded

give david a mimosa and he'll speak in haikus. seriously. *

ironic mustache
tight black jeans and converse shoes
beat up in high school

david has the soul
jennifer has his money
now we can't hear well

jesus fucking christ
it's all disposable shit
large scale soul sucker**

giraffes in texas
no matter what, it's not right
what a travesty.***

blow me new braunfels
and blow gauche caviar too
we don't like strip malls

i get it texas
you like your flags huge and high
compensating much?

*a painful drive to san antonio
**walmart distribution center
***south texas "a wild and vivid land"?

ladies who lunch

skinny pants, leggings and ironic facial hair prevailed as we ventured out in austin for sxsw this past week amidst droves of hipsters and rock stars, margaritas in hand and hangover not far behind. past five days rather fuzzy and we apologize for any phone calls/text/emails.
-completely liquid diet, check.
-champagne bubbles turning into little hammers, ouch.
-japanese high school girl ska band, confusing.
-old people on segways, natch.
-perez hilton, alarming
-pedicabs, priceless.

another one

enough said.

your looks are laughable, unphotographable.

10 am valentines day. i am sitting in bed eating red velvet cake. yes, it has pink sprinkles on it. shameful, i know, but i am as usual, sans valentine (i'm sorry stephanie, you'll have to reapply next year). i am usually a bit of a scrooge of valentines day--black clothes, a perma-scowl...no i don't want to smell the roses! i don't know who actually reads this, but i'm going to break from type this year. my sister made a good point earlier, this should be a day to appreciate all those who are close to me. so thanks to all y'all (get me out of texas!) who have put up with my bitching and moaning and those of you who never cease to make me laugh. so hearts and puppies for all!

g.c.

odds and ends: listen to turina's circulo. muy suave.

namaste, bitches.

i go through this phase every few months or so when i feel like a huge bum and become convinced that i am approaching epic proportions while simultaneously losing bone mass and will have osteoporosis, like tomorrow (thanks mom, for instilling a finely tuned sense of paranoia in me!). usually i mull over this unpleasant thought for about half a minute, eat a cheeseburger and move on. however, i felt sufficiently guilty enough after subsisting on cookies for the past few weeks (new dress=no money for groceries. i make good life decisions!) to start doing yoga again this past week after about a 3 year hiatus, and i have to say, there is something a bit discomforting about being surrounded by people who breath loudly with such intent while being instructed to contort myself in ways my legs just don't want to go. that said, it wasn't much of a workout and i really miss pilates. perhaps if i'm feeling ambitious next week, i might even attempt to bike to school. unlikely.

odds and ends: holy shit, listen to the godfather of nerdcore hiphop, mc frontalot's "rhyme of the nibelung": "I got invited to go see The Ring; I thought it were probably a musical aboot hobbits...the music's hella stupid it don't got no beats and that's the 22nd time I heard the leitmotif"

even the hobos have a spring in their step!

i decided to give my eyes a rest from reading today, so once i was able to drag myself out of bed, oh around noon (i know, i suck at life, but my only class for today was cancelled!) i locked myself in a practice room and pounded away for a few hours. i love learning something new and that moment when the piece really starts to come together--the notes finally make sense and i know what i want to tell. i think i'm getting sucked back into the whole piano thing again and it's good to be back. i spent the rest of the day listening to various recordings of the bach partitas. glenn gould attacks (and i do mean attack) them as though he were on a harpsichord, followed by igor kipnis's recording on harpsichord, which he approaches as though he were on organ. which is to say. none of this has anything to do with hobos and i should go back to reading about musical nuns (yeah, seriously) and consider investing in cable t.v. before i start developing that crooked grin a la susan p.

odds and ends: one more reason to come visit me

on frivolity

it is becoming patently clear that i must quit my job and/or throw away my credit card. working in retail has been a bit of a lark for me. i fold lots of sweaters and pretend to be helpful and attempt to hide my j-face. in return, i get a giant discount and am currently in the process of transitioning from hobo chic to preppy hobo chic. now it's no secret that i'm the marketer's dream subject. my store's particularly good at selling this image--clean, wholesome, summers spent sailing up and down the eastern seaboard. suddenly madras bermuda shorts are looking really good. they would be perfect for that lobster bake you know? i also need cashmere sweaters. in every color. swimsuits with matching flip flops of course for when i summer in the hamptons or some other bourgeois watering hole in a house from a potterybarn/william sonoma catalogue. throw up everywhere. that said, i just had to buy that dress. it was 60% off, it would've been criminal not to. sigh.

odds and ends: i ordered a pizza for dinner tonight. a barbeque chicken pizza. i go and pick it up, pay for it, and as they hand it to me, they tell me, "oh, we ran out of chicken tonight so there's no chicken on the pizza. is that okay?" umm, no. not okay. i'm left with a barbeque sauce and cheese pizza. in the words of the inimitable miss dolan, sick.

non-douchebags of the world unite!

i am currently taking a class on the global impact of american mass culture. the topic of discussion today was the stratification of culture into the highbrow, middlebrow and lowbrow and the persistent strain of anti-intellectualism that clings to american culture. now i have been accused of being an elitist--i am studying musicology after all and admittedly have a tendency to seek out the esoteric. if other people know about it, it's time to move on, right? but in reality, i am really just protecting myself from distractions and unwanted attentions. if i have a talent for anything at all, other than wasting time, it would be at shutting out those i have no desire to know. (the years of social awkwardness did pay off! elimination lists are helpful too). i generally try not to be too rude about it, but i definitely make it clear when i'm not interested. so i've been fielding calls from one master douche for about about half a year now. i've not answered my phone since september. to be dramatic, he is my nemesis. most people have at least one redeeming value. so far as i can tell, master douche has none. (seriously, who hates bach?!?) he has offended me in every possible way, and to put it in vaguely marxist terms, we are diametrically opposed. he will, presumably, eventually collapse under the weight of his massive ego and unsavory personality, but perhaps we need a revolution to speed up the process. i am currently enlisting volunteers.

my slow descent into alcoholism i.e. grad school

today began with bailey's in my morning coffee and ended with cheez-its and red wine. in between these two rather demoralizing events, i had an epiphany--i'm really good at doing nothing. okay, i didn't say it was a great epiphany, or a surprising one, but i definitely spent more time thinking about what i needed to do instead of actually doing what i need to do. it's my first week of classes (last week canceled due to bad weather. i love living a city that overreacts to anything other than blue skies) but levels of anxiety are high and the insomnia has return. fun. i hate constantly feeling like i shouldn't be here and that i'm wasting my time, only i haven't figured out what i want so i may as well stick it out in grad school until i figure things out--at least i get a degree right? it's hard to be back here after a great month at home where i successful displayed my talent for doing nothing for a month...it was glorious. but i'm trying to stay positive. i know anyone who's talked to me--ever find this hard to believe (i am actually disgustingly optimistic--aided by copious amounts of red wine and/or vodka). it is good to be playing piano regularly again, especially now that i'm only playing for fun. i'm fairly excited about half my classes--up from hating all of my classes last semester.

odds and ends: i had a little too much fun on itunes today. the jury's still out for me on the new shins' cd wincing the night away. not bad, but unremarkable. however, listen to au revoir simone's "and sleep al mar" it's marvelously creepy.

a recovery of sorts

i've decided (perhaps unwisely) to return from my virtual suicide
reasons for blog:
-well first and foremost, to be discovered by a publisher who will make me an offer i can't refuse, thus bringing me one step closer to my goal of $25 million by 25 (prospects looking grim at the moment).
-this is the literary equivalent of starting your own shitty garage band (next item on my to-do list. big like rasputin will emerge in all its baroque pop excesses)
-i am unfortunately terrible about answering my phone or emails in a timely manner, although i am inordinately good at procrastinating!
-finally. another forum to air my petty concerns and inane observations.