save me!

I really should be getting out to meet my friends now, but I'm on a Migraine research roll and keep finding new tidbits of information!

Whether or not you know someone who's easily affected by the omnipresent flickering of fluorescent bulbs, this website and newsbrief should be mandatory reading for all people--certainly for all Migraineurs.

I signed the petition electronically but wished I had a pen I could bare down on with all my strength and fervor.

don't go warmin' my leg...

I bought a pair of cozy leg warmers over a year ago while on vaycayshun and have yet to actually wear them. Part of my being still remains stock-still against the Huntley Hills Elementary cafetorium wall during the seventh grade dance, fearful that making a move toward the center of the room will bring attention to what is surely the wrong pastel, flowered dress.

Most of me doesn't care what others think of what I'm wearing. (See? I'm soooo self-actualized.)

After having slept off a Migraine most of the daylight hours, I am not feeling too festive. I miss my GHP friends right now and wish we were having one of our characteristic lock-ins. Heartbreakingly, these events are now a thing of the past. Wah. Going out this evening will be festive, I'm sure--seeing The Diamond Center last night was awesome enough, so tonight will be even more fun, especially since the Tom Petty cover band, Heavy Petty, will follow. But bar-hopping and going to see some bands play and friend-DJs spin sort of feels like any other night. If only Chris (see photo, courtesy of C. Tinsley) would get all souped up in his cheap-ass Santa outfit again.


Happy last day of 2007.

Happy Birthday, Mary!

It's Mary Tyler Moore's birthday today. She was born on December 29, 1936, so that makes her 71.

This is my 221st blog entry. My birthday is 2/21--it's a SIGN!!!

Voudriez-vous une cigarette?

In what I see as an incredibly wonderful twist of fate for the health of millions, the French government has decided to outlaw smoking in bars and cafes beginning January 2nd! (They are going to allow smokers to party and puff away on New Year's Eve, kind souls.) Next time I go I don't have to retreat early to the hotel due to smoke-induced Migraines. Sweet heaven!

No need to get into a whose-right-is-it-to-say-where-and-when-we-can-and-cannot-smoke debate here, folks. The fact of the matter is the issue has been decided and we will no longer smell like cigarette butts upon leaving French bars at 4 AM, nor will we have secondhand smoke hangovers the next morning. Freedom, sweet freedom. Ah, bon.

The Average Debaters

Lord, I'm so happy I'm not the only one out there who's not fawning over The Great Debaters.

sickypoo strikes again

Last night I couldn't fall asleep. I had the strangest ball of pain in my stomach. Unfamiliar, unsettled pain. It wasn't the lurching pain of an upset stomach or the hard rocky feeling of a gassy stomach (ew--did I just say "gassy stomach"?).

Around 6 AM, after having napped about twenty minutes between 2:40 and 3:00 AM, I got up suddenly and was sick sick sickeroo. Food poisoning? I'd only had Chick-fil-A and a few handfuls of snack food at Dallas's earlier in the day. Did I overnog it? I had a mug full of pumpkin eggnog that was marked "sell by Dec. 24." Does that mean it was bad by the evening of Dec. 26th?

In any case, I was sick and then lay down in bed in more pain, whining and moping and not falling asleep for another hour or so. Today was shot, and by the time I did get up I was weaky mckinserson and couldn't do much of anything without getting winded. Taking a five minute shower just about knocked me out!

I'm grateful to have this time off work. Nothing much is going on right now. Obviously it would have been nice to help Jim with dinner despite my tendency to grunt about helping (truly--I'm not very good!), and dropping all my stuff off at the post office would've made me feel as if I'd accomplished something. But no such luck, eh?

My dearest Denise did send me a link to a "fun" website, though. For all of you with whom I've bitched about misplaced or completely unnecessary quotation marks, this site's for you!
http://quotation-marks.blogspot.com/

Hope everyone's in good health! Remember that Mary Tyler Moore's birthday is this Saturday night, 12/29!!!

Happy Xmas.

This is the first year I have spent Christmas without my parents, and it'll be the second Christmas morning I'll wake up without my sister. No, nothing sinister or heartbreaking happened to her--she just spent Christmas with her former girlfriend's family one year and came home a few days after to have an after-Christmas get-together with us.

My parents didn't feel like traveling away from their adopted Florida homeland. I didn't feel like going to their Florida home for the third time in three months only to turn around three days later. Julie didn't want to book air travel from Milwaukee when the Midwest has been erupting in snowstorms every few weeks. (She thought correctly on that one--Milwaukee is all snowy and wintry mixy right now, and many people's travel plans have screeched to a halt.)

I'm here in Athens with my beau and my friends. It's chilly, and it's quiet. Mary Beth just called and offered to bring me a delicious plate of food from her family's Christmas dinner. Sounds wonderful, as I've had just a teensy bit of food since my lunch earlier today. I'm going to take my new camera and the handy-dandy portable Scrabble game down to Flicker to visit the bartender boyf til he gets off work at midnight. Maybe we'll see Santa flying through the skies!!

It's certainly a nontraditional Christmas for me. Stranger than the year Julie and I were on a cruise with our parents? P'raps. That was 9 years ago. Or 10!! I'm old.
Guess it's time to bust all out on my own, right, y'all?

this short video of a small child will restore your faith in humanity

Have you ever felt so tired you just nodded off in the midst of what you were doing? I can recall dinners, classes, and of course books during which I caught myself as my head and/or body started heading swiftly toward the closest hard, horizontal surface.

A few months ago the little boy I babysit (one whom I've known since he was a couple months old--now he's 17 mos. or so!) was being a Crabby Appleton, as my beloved Grandma Mary might say. During his lunch he barely ate a thing, so hunger wasn't at the root of his bad mood. Halfway into his meager portion of vegetables the problem surfaced: his eyelids grew heavy, he comically half-fell toward the highchair table again and again, only to catch himself at the last second. (I had my pand poised at the ready, of course--I wouldn't let that teensy little head get all smooshed in vegetables, let alone bruised!) But sweet lord--that was hilarious. I think it was my laughter that kept waking him up. The transition from wakefulness to sleep took about 2 minutes--amazing. I wish I could fall asleep that fast.

I cleaned him up and put him in his crib, where he went out like a light. Later I described this adorable and very funny phenomenon to Jim, but words could not begin to describe the event.

To my happy surprise, someone has captured the same event with a different child on video! And I know the people involved, so it's not like I've been cyberstalking a small baby! My friend Eliza and her husband Eric have a little girl named Rio; since Rio was born they've been recording short videos and posting them on youtube.com so that friends and family far away could see what she's up to.

Take a look--it's only about 1.5 minutes at the most and you can watch it on mute. So cute and funny. And the blog subject doesn't lie, unless you really are the grinchiest of them all.


Love,
me

Flight of the Conchords--watch it!

Today's Paste email announced that Flight of the Conchords (do I italicize that? I guess not since we're talking specifically of the performing duo here and not their TV show) are going to release a full-length album!

My mom had Jim and me watch Flight of the Conchords over Thanksgiving. This was after it came highly recommended from a few friends, including the ever-zealous "F'n Jimmy," who promised Nancy and me that we would love it, especially since she and I tend to sing about what's going on at any given time. Well, I saw a couple episodes of my mom's season 1 DVD and I can verify this: the show is amazing. Hilarious. Original. So funny. Watch it.

I just went to youtube.com and found a clip of them performing "Business Time" on stage in front of a live audience. It's still very funny, but I really do prefer seeing the duo perform within the auspices of their television show. They definitely have the means to up the ante there and make things more ridiculous, silly, and clever. All the same, it's worth a watch if you've never seen any of Flight of the Conchords and want a dose of their humor.

Next stop: Vision Video, Amazon.com, or wherever you go to acquire DVDs! Get to it!
xo-
Janet

I do not exist.

I am standing in a home not recognized by UPS, FedEx, Pizza Hut, Papa John's, or Dominoes.

You see, this evening marked the third or fourth time I've found out from a worldwide, highly reputable delivery service (this description does not include the pizza places mentioned above) that my "delivery address does not exist." It's lots of fun to pay for expedited shipping only to discover that you can't be shipped to due to your own nonexistence.

Granted, my house address is a little misleading. The house itself is in a little community of homes off one street, and the house address bears the name of another teensy street that forms that back border of the small neighborhood. But let's go over a few key points here:
1. The teensy street EXISTS.
2. The teensy street has a NAME.
3. The teensy street has a LEGIBLE ROAD SIGN.
4. It is the year 2007 (soon to be 2008!) and I do reckon there's better technology out there than paper maps and compasses. (No, I'm not besmirching the glory of the compass. But an in-cab cheapo GPS system seems fairly routine these days, and what stops 'em from calling the main office or--dare I say it?--the phone number on the shipping label, my number, for more descriptive directions?)

Now I have to wait a whole extry day for this and this.
And that makes me feel like this:

Ho, ho, ho!

I'm trying to force someone I know and love to get into the Christmas spirit. First I told him that I'd be home in Athens for the holidays, a warm body for him to cuddle by his side [in this 70 degree winter chill], a loving girlfriend to keep close as the holiday doldrums attempt to hit each and every one of us swiftly below the belt.

This news was not taken as excitedly as I'd wished. Hmmff.

Next plan? Get a Christmas tree! Decorate it while Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole make us filled with dreams of sugarplum fairies!

It just so happened that I bought the tree by myself. (See earlier post.) GrinchyBoyf (TM) did seem a bit disappointed when I told him I'd done so ("I thought we were going to do that together!") but expressed zero interest in decorating it with me. You see, the lad just doesn't celebrate Christmas in that cheesy way I do. I get overly excited and overwhelmed with countdowns and lights and icicles (Chris would have me call them by their collective name, "tinsel") and the sheer anticipation. Jim doesn't go for this. Not one ounce of it.

Today I ended up half-forcing him to "want" to help me put the lights on the tree. By the time he said he would and that he "wanted" to help, I rejected his offers. Hours later, we were both in our element: he relaxed before a show by watching the classic Christmas heartwarmer, Letters from Iwo Jima, whilst I decorated the tree in jean shorts in mid-December. Guess we came to a compromise after all.

let the tipping begin! (or "karma chameleon")

A few weeks ago I caught myself making a grave mathematical error about five beats after the person I was selling two CDs to caught me making a grave mathematical error. Ignoring the error would have saved him $20 and lost the band I was working for that same amount. Luckily we both realized my mistake. (Trying to balance too many things at once--a conversation, selling CDs for two bands in the selfsame minute, and such.)

I was really hard on myself for this mistake. Truly, I beat myself up for these things much more harshly than I think most people do. Time, learning, reading, and a little degree in gifted education (in which I learned a lot about perfectionism and how it manifests) has solidified what I didn't want to believe: I am a perfectionist, and this is not entirely healthy. Though I'm pretty secure with myself and have a shiny self-esteem (ahem--some scholars/psychologists might say that I am not too much of an inwardly-focused perfectionist), I really take it hard when I make a mistake in front of someone else. Falling on my butt, flubbing my words, etc.--that's usually fine, because I can laugh at myself first. But making a mistake that may make the other person perceive me as dumb? Oh, boy. That is really difficult to take.

That man at the rock show, the one I sold the CDs to for almost-free? Wow. He probably thought nothing of our interaction, probably thought what I would have if I were in his shoes: "that girl done got confused, guess I'd better tell her what's what." But that's not what I imagined, and not what I still imagine he was thinking. Oh, no siree. You see, he was thinking about how this little young thing in a dress was hired to sell CDs but can't even multiply by tens and do simple subtraction. He was wondering how much money I'd lost the band thus far. He was trying so very hard not to roll his eyes, thinking I might have looked a little cute but was probably not all that smart.

Let's face it, kids. Very few people in this world are as harsh as the way I imagine(d) that man to be in that moment. In fact, he handled the situation gracefully and I probably did as well. I am well aware that I need to get over making mistakes in front of people. People don't need to know that I'm smart. It's just...

Oh, shut up.


Anyhow. Today I went to the soon-to-be-closing nursery on the East Side of town, Charmar. The drought is making it so this quaint and usually successful family-run business is closing its doors in 17 days. (I originally heard about the store after they made the decision to close while listening to a local NPR story. I think that's right, but perhaps it was the UGA channel or 100.7. Whatev.) It's really a shame. I'd never been in before this afternoon, when I dipped in between tutoring appointments in the hopes of scoring one of their pretty Christmas trees. (30% off, and the only Christmas trees I've seen in town, truth be told. There were only five left when I was there. I think I'm a late bloomer.) When I handed the woman at the cash register a twenty and a ten to pay for the tree, which was $28.45, she gave me a ten and change in return. I rewound time in my head to be sure and then said, "Oh, um. I think I gave you thirty, not forty." "No, you gave me forty." "I'm pretty sure I didn't. It's hard to tell by my wallet since all the cash is jumbled together, but my ten is gone." She looked in the drawer, and sho' nuff, there was a ten dollar bill in the space where the twenties go. She reddened a bit and smiled gratefully. "Oh, THANK YOU!" "No problem," I replied, handing the cash back to her. She must have said thanks four more times, blushing all the while. I threw her a bone, mentioning I'd done a similar thing recently. That cured any awkwardness I'd sensed (maybe I was projecting it all the while?) and we chatted for a moment.

While I was there, three ladies bought plants for their houses and talked to the cashier/owner as they did so. "I just can't believe it," one woman in her sixties said, referring to the imminent closing of the store. "It just makes me start to tear up!"

"Well, don't start, 'cause then we start. We have eighteen days left now. Let's make them good."

A nice young feller carried my tree out to the car and lay plastic in the trunk so the needles wouldn't get everywhere. Feeling suddenly rich since I'd momentarily had a ten dollar bill and given it up so valiantly (ho ho ho), I whipped out a fiver and said, "Is it strange to tip? Is that done?" "It's not strange," he said, and I handed him some money and thought about holiday tipping and my blog and how much of a dork I am.

The end.

Go get yourselves a little plant or something.

tipping the babysitter...?

So one of the top stories on Google News talks about holiday tipping. And babysitters are mentioned as one of the people in one's life who should be tipped. Now I have been babysitting for years and have never received a holiday tip. I'm not complaining, just noting.

In New York, I was what a family called the "alpha babysitter," or the main babysitter. I watched an adorable and hilarious four-year-old boy four nights a week in his rather upscale Gramercy Park home. Now that's a family you'd expect a holiday tip from, eh? But no. No tip.

Before that NYC job, I babysat a lot but never regularly enough to be the recipient of a tippy tip tip. Nowadays I am the regular babysitter for a couple of families (I share this duty with Kelli M.!) but didn't get any holiday tippage last year; I don't expect it this year. That being said, I won't be disappointed not to receive it.

It's almost strange to me to see that people are supposed to tip the folks that help them out throughout the year even more over the holidays. Does anyone else do this? I am already so overwhelmed with needing to get presents for my family and the boyf--I can't go spending money on my elevator operator and parking lot attendant.

Anywho. Mainly I wanted to know if anyone else out there gave holiday tips to his or her hairdresser, handyman, or pet groomer. It seems such an adult thing to do. Surely I can be excused since I only have a part-time job and little to no cash. Tee hee.

Josh on TV

Thank goodness for youtube.com.

Check this out--it's nothing like seeing Josh with a live audience that's there to see him, nothing like experiencing his fun and silly and occasionally serious banter, but hey! I'm guessing the clip is from 1999, when Useful Music was out, and before the Josh Joplin Band morphed into the Josh Joplin Group. (The reference to Shawn Mullins as a semi-star also dates the performance.)

Anywho, this is for the likes of Lieeish and Dallas and Sweet, assuming they ever read this blog. It's also for any of you who feel like watching. The end.

My So-Called Life

My So-Called Life is online for free! I fully support buying the newest DVD set, which has lots of cool features. But hey--for those of us who can't afford that, let's truck on over to abc.com and watch Angela Chase.

It's SO good. If you've seen it before, watch it again. If you've never seen it, you owe it to yourself to watch the episodes. It's amazingly written and so well-acted.

The end.

candle in the wind

As I think I mentioned a while back, I'm reading Donald Spoto's biography of Marilyn Monroe. This 500+ page book is taking me FOREVER to read. It's full of facts, names, places, and sadness. It's not boring, though--not in the least. I can't quite get a grasp on all the names and faces, and that's my fault. What I want to grasp onto but almost hate learning about is how beautiful and fragile and funny and smart Marilyn was. I've rented two of her films while making my way through this book--I watched The Asphalt Jungle (a movie in which she has only a handful of lines and just a couple minutes of screen time) and Bus Stop. I wanted to see them for their own sake but also because I'd just read about her auditions, the other cast members, her agonizing self-criticism that caused her to ask for take after take until she got things somewhat right. A classic perfectionist (and not a narcissist, as it's erroneously believed), she would make and remake her face for hours before going out into public, terrified of any possible scrutiny, feeling as if she always had to look her best. The reasons for this fear were founded in her upbringing as well as her own temperament, I'm sure.

Donald Spoto's biography of her is well-revered for many reasons: it's well-written and very well-researched. He strips away layers of myth surrounding her, myth that was often created by people on her periphery (or even people who didn't know her in the least), people who used her name to make themselves some money. The whole JFK "love affair"? Yeah, that was one time. The two of them met exactly four times and shared a bed once. The way that story spun out of control is all documented.

Most of the book isn't made up of Spoto unraveling myths. On the contrary, he paints a beautiful picture of this vivacious, loving person who made her place in Hollywood and the world.

Right now my reading has slowed to a snail's pace. Look at me as we speak: I'm writing about the book instead of reading it. Why, you ask? I've reached 1962, the year of her death.

And I've just come to love her.

more fun (and occasionally painful) local stories

I'm not inspired to write, but I am inspired to share...

1. From the Oconee County Blotter:
Theft: On Nov. 23, deputy William Elrod was dispatched to the Waffle House on U.S. Highway 441 where a manager had counted the previous shift's cash register drawer and found it came up $83 short.

2. After I read the following little blurb, I actually sighed, "Oh, man!" aloud. Truly, I say!

From the Madison County Police Blotter:
Arrest: On Nov. 20, deputy Jason Luke was dispatched to a home on Cherokee Road, Comer where the dispatcher said a man was armed with a BB gun. When Luke arrived, he took cover behind his patrol car while he waited for backup. However, a woman and man exited the house and he asked them who had the gun. "This is him. He ain't got the gun now," the woman responded. Luke then patted down the man and secured him in the patrol car. The deputy asked the man what was going on and the man said he was "raising hell." The family said he had been drinking most of the day and earlier that day took a machete and damaged the kitchen floor and wall. Joseph M. Collins, 50, was arrested for disorderly conduct.

3. Police on lookout for window climber
(I didn't include link because it came with all these attached ads. Ew!)

A woman in an apartment near Lexington Road was awakened Friday morning by a man climbing through her bedroom window, Athens-Clarke police said. The man opened the unlocked window to her Woodlake Place apartment, and when the woman woke up, he told her he was looking for his sister, police said.

The man was polite and left without taking anything, the woman told police.

But after going back out the window, he tried the same thing at the window next door, again telling the woman inside that he was looking for his sister, according to police.

Police put out an alert for the unidentified suspect and were able to lift a fingerprint from the window, police said.

Published in the Athens Banner-Herald on 120207

4. Pitched potato knocks out husband
(again, no link due to the ads--visit onlineathens.com to search for the article yourself, if you so desire.)

Jackson County sheriff's deputies were called to a Nicholson home early Thanksgiving morning after a 43-year-old woman knocked her husband unconscious with a potato during an argument, according to sheriff's reports. The woman told deputies that she and her husband started to argue in the kitchen about 1 a.m. Nov. 22. He had used an expletive to describe her, and she threw the potato at him, hitting him in the nose and causing him to pass out, deputies said. The couple told deputies that they been drinking.

She told deputies that she didn't mean to hit her husband and called police as soon as he fell unconscious. The man, who suffered from a large knot on his nose, told deputies he did not want to press charges. The woman was not arrested and no charges were filed.

Published in the Athens Banner-Herald on 120607

5. Okay, I admit I'm getting on a roll here. But the following little snippet from the Madison County blotter is pretty funny. It's very small-town Georgia.

Arrest: On Nov. 23, Lt. Steve Kimbel was patrolling on Neese Commerce Road about 11 p.m. when his radar showed an approaching Toyota Corolla traveling at 69 mph. When he turned to catch up to the car, it continued at a high rate of speed and suddenly turned onto Dillard Road. Kimbel caught up to the car when it stopped for a stop sign at Martin Griffeth Road. The driver, Ashlei Elizabeth Baker, 23, denied attempting get away and explained she was going to visit her father. Kimbel told Baker he knew where her father lived and it made no sense for her to take a longer route. At this point, she admitted she tried to elude the officer. She was arrested for speeding and attempting to elude and taken to jail.

6. The person writing the Madison County blotter has got to be having some fun here and there. Despite some challenges he or she faces when it comes to grammar and how to make words plural, the little tales are pretty convoluted and funny. Perhaps a stenographer writes down exactly what the officers say? I'm not sure. I like how the writer seems so sure of the characters' actions and feelings in this real-life drama.

Assault: On Nov. 25, Lt. Steve Kimbel and deputy Jason Ring responded about 8:15 p.m. to a dispute in Danielsville where a young man's father engaged in a fight with his son's in-laws. The young man said he and his wife went to visit his parents, but his wife doesn't like to visit there and often finds an excuse to leave early. When she wanted to leave this time, the man's father confronted her and she became upset. The woman and her father-in-law argued and when she pointed her finger at his face, he slapped her finger. Afterward, the couple left and drove to a nearby convenience store, where the woman's mother and sister also arrived. The wife said she would ride home with her mother. But as they left, the husband saw that they were returning to his father's home. He followed with the intent of trying to keep the peace. The father came outside and met the three women. When he called his daughter-in-law an uncomplimentary name, the sister hit him in the face. The father then pinned the sister against a vehicle and as his son tried to pull him off, the mother hit the father on the head with a flashlight. They eventually separated and left. Kimbel questioned the father, who said he only was trying to defend himself after the sister hit him. The father had some knots on his head and a cut under his eye. The deputies told all those involved to stay away from each other and if they wanted to take out warrants, they explained the court procedures.

Marfan Syndrome

While perusing the facebook.com "Causes" application and signing up for all the things I believe in (anti-smoking, "let's stop drunk driving," etc.), I decided to do a quick search to find out if anyone had a Marfan's awareness group. Lo and behold, there were three.

One of my very best friends died from Marfan Syndrome on the first of October, 2001. The very day (or night? I'm not sure) of the Josh Joplin show I mentioned in my previous post. Jeffrey was already dead or was about to be dead while I sat in a room crowded with people listening to a song that, even then, made me disarmingly nostalgic about the past, especially my days growing up in Chamblee, GA.

In any case, one of the Marfan Syndrome Awareness groups had this youtube.com video posted. It's pretty interesting. Never before had I heard that Jonathan Larson, the creator and director of the smash hit Rent, was probably suffering from undiagnosed Marfan Syndrome. Assuming Larson did have the disease, he and Jeff were in the same boat: neither one of them had any idea of their condition while alive.

The quick video is informative and interesting. As Anthony Rapp says (in badly synced vocals, if your computer plays it the way mine did!), knowing the signs could help you save a life.

no Josh Joplin show for me. :(

I bought tickets to the sold-out Dec. 8 late show at Eddie's Attic to see the incomparable Josh Joplin only to find out that my three fellow concert attendees could not go. Lieeish and her main squeeze have a company holiday party to attend. Jim had a feeling there was something going on that night (Lawd o lawd, won't somebody buy him a cheapy-cheap pocket-sized planner?) and remembered what it was when he got a wedding reception invitation in the mail. So now none of us can go and I am quite sad.

The drive to Decatur isn't particularly thrilling, nor is the wait to get seats at Eddie's, assuming they 're still doing that name-calling thing. (If you buy online as most people do nowadays, you wait as the names get called according to the order in which tickets were purchased. You try to scramble in the rather small but every-so-homey "listening room" to get the best available seats.) In the olden days, the teensy tables were up for grabs, too--now they're more expensive and sell more quickly than the general admission tickets. Alas.

I love Josh Joplin. Only recently have I realized that this admiration has somewhat cheesy connotations to some--a few of my Athens friends tend to think that he's dorky and not so talented. These are folks who've not seen him live, or so I'd like to think. Verily I don't know their history with Josh. I am the one who drove to Borders after Borders to see his free shows the summer that Useful Music came out (for the first time, before it was rereleased by a major label and screwed around with). I sent funny, dorky fan/friend emails with Dallas and later, in the midst of Josh's short-lived radio popularity, sent him an email requesting that he sing a then old song, "Better Days" at his crowded NYC show. He played it for me and gave a little shout out that prompted the newbie fans in the crowd to look around for the girl who had requested the song.

Despite the ticket agency's denial of my request, Eddie's Attic reassured me kindly that they'd be more than happy to refund my ticket purchase. I'm $60 + service fees richer again but sad to be missing out. Guess I'll get drunk at some strangers' wedding and wax nostalgic for times past.

My #1 band has the #1 record!

Check this out. My new Paste arrived today, and The National's album Boxer got best album of the year. The online article is here. I'm very excited for them. Earlier this year, I saw them in Paris for free with Sweet (the story there is pretty exciting--if I've not told you it already, please encourage me to do so). Sigh. That was my first time seeing them up close. I'd seen them just three weeks or so beforehand when they opened up for The Arcade Fire in Atlanta, but my seats were far back and I missed part of the show (that story's not so happy).

Upon my return to the States post-Paris, I saw them in Atlanta in June with the Crackbaby Mack and then again in September with Nancy.

If you're one of the folks who've not heard them, buy their record. You can even do that emusic.com thing where you sign up and get 25 downloads + an audiobook for free (no gimmicks--even I did it). Make your downloads a couple of albums by The National.

If you're a folk who's heard 'em but not seen them, buy tickets to a show--IN ADVANCE, mind you.

Okay, bye.

Love,
moi!