Monday, August 31, 2009

One More Mouthful And They Will Be Happy

[desaparecidos - greater omaha]

conor oberst does it again, obvs. this is the only desaparecidos song i know but i love it, especially the way conor sings.

the desaparecidos album read music/speak spanish came out in 2002 and then they broke up.

and it's all you can eat.. and they'll never get enough.. they'll be feeding us.. they'll be feeding on us!

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Great Expectations & High Fidelity

Yesterday I finished High Fidelity. Today I'm going to talk about it. I like to do these posts with three books so I'm also going to talk about The Scarlet Letter and Great Expectations. There are lots of links in this introduction. I'm confused because I started school on Monday! Also I don't know where I'm going half the time. Anyways. I expect I'll be reading a lot more during the school year, mostly books that are assigned to me. That'll be fun.


The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

I thought it would be a good idea to read this book because I dunno, apparently it's an American classic or something. Whatever, now I can say I read it and hopefully I'll NEVER HAVE TO PICK IT UP AGAIN. The most interesting thing about reading this book was finding a stamp on one of the pages that said "Nanuet Senior High School, Church St., NY" which is coincidentally like 5 minutes away from where Katrina lives.

This book is dense. I feel like it could've been written in two chapters if Hawthorne hadn't spent pages and pages describing shit that had no importance whatsoever. I'm probably insulting a lot of people right now. I'll say something good: there was a couple of pages at the end that I was really into. That is all.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Again, I wanted to read some "classic literature" 'cause it looks good on my book resume/list. Great Expectations was good. It wasn't life changing and it wasn't terrible. It was completely enjoyable, if not a bit long, but still fun to read. The characters were all developed really nicely and have their own background story, which is great since I love character analysis. Wemmick and Mr. Jaggers were my favorite, especially Wemmick because he's just so awesome (that is the formal way of saying it), also I think Herbert and Pip were lovers probs. Actually now that I think about it, I like Great Expectations a lot more now than when I read it. Which was like a week ago.

"You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since -- on the river, on the sails of ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets."

Pip to Estella, "Great Expectations" by Charles Dickens

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

I was really excited to read this book because 1) it looks super pomo and 2) it starts with a list. I was not disappointed. I was about 1/3 of the way through it and I was like "what the hell is this book about? this is weird" but it just got better as I went along. I think I got really into it when I suddenly realized that the narrator, Rob, is just like me. Or I'm just like him. There's also a ton of lists, which I love.

I'm kind of curious to watch the movie because there's so much narration that I don't know how they would do it. Anyways I'm going to watch it at one point and maybe I'll tell you about it. I can't really explain this book, but it got me thinking in a certain way and inspired me to write a "short story" which I may or may not post sometime in the future.

Also if you like Chuck Palahniuk, you will probably like High Fidelity.

"The difference between these people and me is that they finished college and I didn't; as a consequence, they have smart jobs and I have a scruffy job, they are rich and I am poor, they are self-confident and I am incontinent, they do not smoke and I do, they have opinions and I have lists."

-Nick Hornby "High Fidelity"

Monday, August 24, 2009

Climb the Fence, Books and Pens, I Can Tell That We Are Gonna Be Friends

[the white stripes - we're going to be friends]

School started today! I don't know how I feel. Tired I guess.

This song is really cute and makes me think of nice little children even though I hate children.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

What I Knew In My Heart I Saw With My Eyes

So maybe I'm a month and a half late, but now we get to (sort of) relive the awesomeness that was pride 2009.

I went back to New York like I said I would and we went on a picnic and stuff, so those pictures will probs be up in like October or something. Mark your calendars or whatever it is you do.

If you click on the picture they get quite large.


katrina the asian

dyke march!

playing in the fountain - dyke march

click on this one because there's a lady with no shirt on on the left, obvs that's what the dyke march is all about.

America's Next Top Model

before asher got "sooo wasted!"

riese/ceo of ideas

alex is the cutest thing to walk the earth!


waiting and rapping and generally being really cool

in addition to being hot, laura is also badass

carlytron and robin


Monday, August 17, 2009

Today's Music Monday is the Next Song That Comes on Shuffle

[the new pornographers - go places]

jk I pressed 'next' a couple of times. But I loooove this song. Play hearts kid, they work well. Like magic, play aces, stay with me, go places... once more for the ages. I love the stop and the go, the fast and the slow..

I don't really know what's happening with the new p's right now, apparently nothing new. But I guess they should be going into the studio soon. That would make sense.

You should listen to the New Pornographers if you don't already. Just a suggestion.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

And In Short, I Was Afraid

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
though I have seen my head [grow slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet -- and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
and in short, I was afraid.

T.S Eliot
- "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

I have a fear of bikes. Really. I'm afraid of going too fast, afraid of losing control, afraid of getting hurt. I'm afraid of getting my pants stuck in the gears. I'm afraid of the gears ripping a hole in my leg.

It might be because of that time I hurtled full speed down the steepest hill my 6 year old eyes had ever seen and flipped over the handlebars. My aunt decided to walk her bike down but my cousin rode down so I did too. I just followed people in those days. I rode right into a pile of rocks and forgot what brakes were for.

I don't want to get hurt. Hurt, (how could you have forgotten?) hurts. I don't want to die.


I'm also afraid of horses, which is really stupid considering I went to horseback riding camp for two years. I followed my cousin there too.

It's not just that, though. I'm afraid of drowning. I like the air, I like the ground, and I like both to be readily available. Maybe it started in Mexico when I followed my cousins into the ocean and was gasping for breath, for control of something -- the water, the ground, my limbs maybe, -- something that would get me out of there. I discovered the ocean is beautiful from the shoreline.

I'm afraid of driving too fast. I don't even drive. It's not even the accident potential, it's the I'm-afraid-the-car-is-going-to-blow-up feeling, which is less likely to happen than an accident. I have no control. When I was little I never liked when my dad twisted and swerved. As the highway whizzed by I quietly imagined car crashes in the backseat.

I guess it goes without saying that I'm afraid of airplanes too. I don't want to crash in the ocean. I don't even think I'd make it to the ocean, let alone the emergency exit. I'm afraid of the oxygen masks the lady in the video so calmly puts on, like the last seconds of her life aren't just ticking away. I like my own air. I like my feet on the ground. Real ground.

Maybe it started some eight years ago, when I suddenly realized I was about to fly over the ocean in a giant piece of metal. I was going to England with my grandmother and I was about to say goodbye to my dad. Maybe it was because I was afraid to leave, or maybe I was seized with a panic and certainty that we were going to crash. I refused to even go to the boarding gate. My grandmother cried, she thought I didn't want to go with her. And right then, I was afraid to tell the truth.

I can't control anything on a plane. Turbulence practically makes my heart stop. I don't want my last meal to be plastic chicken. I don't want to die in a place where no one outside the plane can reach me. I don't want to die in no man's land. I don't want to die. And I don't want to survive on a plank of wood because I don't want to be eaten by sharks and I don't want to die of starvation, 'cause then I'll really wish I'd eaten the plastic chicken. I don't want my last meal to be plastic chicken.

I don't want to nosedive into the ground. If it wasn't clear, I'm also afraid of roller coasters.

Other things I am afraid of: Jumping too high on the trampoline, skiing down double black diamonds, skiing, cancer, hospitals, not recording everything because I am afraid of forgetting.

What it comes down to is this: I'm afraid of pain, and I'm afraid of dying because I'm not ready to go. Hurt hurts. Every single one of my fears is based on dying.

But more than that, I've been afraid to live. This is something I've known for a long time. I've felt it, as people moved faster than me in other directions, and I stood there because I'm too scared to move. This is something I've struggled with; how do people do it? How come my cousin went down the hill without a scratch? How come everybody I know likes to drive fast?

I'm afraid of the physical things and the mental things. I'm afraid of knowing things and not knowing things. I'm afraid I'm doing it all wrong.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
would it have been worth while,
after the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
after the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor --
and this, and so much more? --

T.S Eliot - "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

It was Christmas 2008. The first time I had ever spent Christmas somewhere without snow.

I don't know why, but I'd just had the urge to go to California. I missed the weather, the clouds and the rolling fog, the ocean from from a safe distance, the big houses, the other world. I missed San Francisco, which felt safe, and Berkeley, which felt cool and homely.

It was fun to watch people walk down the street wrapped up in their jackets and hats and earmuffs in 11 degree weather. Somewhere north of the border there was a snowstorm happening.

I loved the decorations on the houses. Outside it looked like spring, and yet, there was santa on a roof. There were reindeer in the yard. It's weird to imagine Christmas with no snow but I loved that crisp feeling in the air. I loved the smell of Berkeley, the shops, the streets, the laughter. I loved my aunt's house, the sheets, the cat, breakfast in the morning. The colours of the flower petals were more vibrant, the food more organic. Yes, everything there is good, good, good. I felt good.

But it turns out there are scary things in Berkeley too. More things I'm scared of, like people. Also, there's me. Sometimes I'm scared to know who I really am. Sometimes I'm scared that someone might see me. You know, really see me.

There are also bikes in Berkeley.

And hills. Big hills.

Do I dare
disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
for decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

T.S Eliot - "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

We decided to go for a bike ride on Christmas morning. I'm afraid of bikes. I used the smallest one, which even then was too big. I tried not to be afraid, but it's hard when you're afraid of everything.

Going for a bike ride up a hill with my family? The irony wasn't lost on me. I'm afraid of getting hit by a car.

The top of the hill was beautiful. I could see the whole city. I could see the clouds and the rolling fog, the houses with lights and decorations. I could see forests of trees which seemed to be greener than any I'd ever seen at home.

The only way back was down, down, down. My cousin began his descent easily, breezily. Even my aunt went ahead of me, experienced and steady. I started after them, slowly. I guess I still follow people. My cousin was way ahead. Occasionally I could see the back of my aunt's windbreaker, puffed up with the wind, at the corner of a turn. My hands were gripping the handlebars tightly, my stomach was tense. My fingers were holding the brakes halfway, ready to do the full squeeze at any time.

The thing about going downhill is that you don't need to pedal. Gravity will take care of everything. I don't really want gravity to be in control, I want to decide how fast or slow I go. The thing with gravity is you don't have a choice. No one does.

My cousin made it look easy, riding down a mountain. Everyone makes it seem that way. I remembered that last time I followed a cousin down a mountain on my bike.

But I was already going down. My aunt and my cousin were getting further and further ahead of me. And then it just clicked. I was in San Francisco. It was 11 degrees. It was Christmas. I was outside, I was alive, I was in love with the big scary world. Maybe there was something waiting for me at the bottom, maybe there wasn't. It didn't really matter. I loosened my fingers on the brakes. I let go.

There is something very freeing about flying down a mountain when you don't want to. The colours blur together, the air fills your lungs, the ground disappears --

There was nothing at the bottom. The road continued as it does, as they all do. I crossed it and went home.

The truth is that I'm still afraid. This could be one of those stories where my life changes for the better when I finally let go of my fears. But it's not. I went back to Montreal and stayed the same, for the most part. But that's not the point. The point is that I did it. I left Prufrock at the top of the hill. For a glorious half hour I sailed through life. I opened my heart and touched the sky.

Let us go then, you and I,
when the evening is spread out against the sky...

oh, do not ask "what is it?"
let us go and make our visit.

T.S Eliot - "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Moxie Fucking CrimeFighter and Pilot Inspektor Are Here to Rescue You

Even though I'm pretty sure I never want to have children, when I read about parents who beat their kids (for the most random things?) I imagine what it would be like if I had kids and that I would probs do a better job. Except I think that's what most people say when they decide to have kids -- they plan to do this and that differently from their own parents and I'm pretty sure no one has kids with the idea that they're going to beat and rape them. I think that craziness develops after. Mostly with unplanned parenthood. The truth is that I would actually be a bad parent because I have no patience and I don't like being responsible for other people.

Anyways. The most important thing about children are their names, obvs. My favorite celebrity child's name is Tallulah Belle [Demi Moore and Bruce Willis]. I mean, the rest are just over the top, like Sage Moon Blood. If I had a kid I would name it Heinz Nectarine Bath Choo. That's for a boy. If I had a girl her name would be Starshine Sprinkle Sprout Choo. Jk. If I had a kid I would name it Ah.

Get it!?!? K.

Dweezil. Moon Unit. MOON UNIT! Moon. Unit. Audio Science. Diezel Ky. Fifi Trixibell. Moxie fucking* CrimeFighter. Pilot Inspektor. Zuma Nesta Rock. Peaches Honeyblossom. Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily. Memphis Eve. Poppy Honey. Seven Sirius.

I'm not just saying random words. These are crazy/retarded/terrible/awesome baby names. Sometimes I wonder how people think of these names or if they purposely want their child to be made fun of every day for 13 years.


*not actually part of the name, but it makes it sound so much more badass. Moxie fucking danger crimefighter anyone?

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Today I'm Writing/A Multitude of Letters/Only in Haiku

dear readers, if you
are going to comment
comment in haikus.


dear heart, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still pumping
blood in the morning.

dear lungs, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still drawing
breath in the evening.

dear brain, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still writing
poetry at night.


dear autostraddle,
you make me feel like i can
do amazing things.

dear autostraddle,
fuck yeah, rodeo disco
let's do it again.

dear intern army,
pillow forts and cherry beer
and clear tequila.

dear intern army,
there is nothing else to say
except #lilythread.


dear yesterday, you
make me confused. are you real?
i can't remember.

dear today, i should
probably take advantage
of all the sunshine.

dear tomorrow, by
definition you're just one
step ahead of me.


dear tegan quin, where
does the good go? i hear
noises in the dark.

dear sara, under
water i wrote haikus for
nobody, really.

dear t&s, you
probably saved my life once
or a lot of times.

(dear city girl, the
signals scared you away but
your wolves still remain.)


dear k.c danger,
in the middle of the night
meet me on #smallearth.


dear katy, i love
san francisco and berkeley
but mostly just you.

(dear katy, sometimes
i think about you and cry
but i don't know why.)


dear amanda, the
earth is warmer when you laugh.
take my word for it.

dear alessia,
i think everyone should see
the world* through your lens.

dear valerie, you're
smarter than you think you are
and more beautiful.


dear ashlee, this is
the last letter i'm ever
going to write you.


dear god, what the fuck
sometimes i don't understand
anything at all.

dear mom, remember
when i was a child? cause
i sure as hell don't.

dear dad, you used to
fall asleep reading to me.
books are my best friends.

dear god, where are you?
i've been looking for you but
i can't jump that high.

dear mom, i am not
talking to you anymore.
i don't think you're real.

dear dad, i'm sorry
that we have nothing to say.
i was so angry.

mom, should i build a
wall? is it a waste of time?
will she break my heart?

dear dad, i never
say i love you but maybe
when i move away.

dear god, poetry
makes it seem less personal.
you never answer.

dear mom, remember
when you died and i didn't
realize for five years.

dear god, last night i
dreamt i had wings and flew all
the way to heaven.


fuck it. i can't write
heartfelt letters to a dead
person in three lines.

fuck it. i can't write
heartfelt letters to living
people in three lines.

fuck it. i can't write
dumb letters to my organs
cause they won't respond.


dear heart, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still pumping
blood in the morning.

dear lungs, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still drawing
breath in the evening.

dear brain, sometimes i'm
surprised that you're still writing
poetry at night.


fuck it. i'm fucking up
this haiku.
what are you going to do?


*world has one syllable. i had to look that up.

Monday, August 3, 2009

It Was Only a Matter of Time

Hi! Remember when I wrote a blog post, accidentally deleted it, wrote this, and then found out I hadn't deleted it? That was fun.

When Death Cab for Cutie's Narrow Stairs came out in 2008, I had mixed feelings about it. It was okay, but nothing really blew me away. I thought they were capable of much better stuff and actually We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes is still my favorite DCFC album. But it's been a year since Narrow Stairs came out and I've obvs had more time to listen to it. It's really grown on me, especially Grapevine Fires, which turns out to be a really beautiful, sad, peaceful song. The vid is also really good and if you're not sure if you like the song, maybe you should listen to it for a year before deciding.

Also has anyone heard their latest EP and would like to share their thoughts and feelings?

[death cab for cutie - grapevine fires]