Brown Bag Sack Lunches and the White Man Keeping the Red Man Down: What I've Been Surviving on for Weeks and Chewing on With My Thoughts.

I feel like I should've have written something between this post and my last, however, I haven't had the time . . . ah, yeah, I haven't had the time. Naturally, of course, I'm beginning to hate that little factoid about my life (the whole no time thing) but I'm dealing . . . yeah, dealing.  I'm sleeping finally, though . . . I don't know if you remember those long stints of two-hour sleeps I was going through earlier in the year but, those are over . . . and on another note, I'm getting to chow down on a lot of premade, John-approved, brown bag, sack lunches (woot).  In another note, I realize that I haven't yet posted the pictures of John and I in Alaska (too bad for you) but I will, eventually . . . whenever I have the thought to . . . yeah, I'll get to it. 

Anyways, I thought that I would post this to give the semblance that I'm not yet dead . . . and am going to be picking up on my mood music choices (since I've made a lot of progress on my playlist and have so much to write) and well . . . I don't know . . . maybe this year I'll write another diatribe about how the holiday Thanksgiving, is another silent reminder of how the white man is keeping the red man down . . . really, it's all about suppression, man. 

What's It Like To Not Be Busy?

I bet it's great . . . yeah, great. 

Haven't The Time, But Might As Well Write Something.

Ah, as I simply wrote in my last post three or four days ago, John and I are back from Alaska. We got back on Thursday from our fifteen day trip to the north. So, what can I say, other than that it was amazing! I haven't yet been able to upload all of the pictures, but when I do I'll post them. 

By the way, the state-long driving mixes, worked out perfectly! The timing was perfect and everything. I haven't much time to write anything else, but I'll finish type something up soon, and start to resume the mood music postings. 

Oh My! I'm Back From Alaska!

Oh My! I'm Back from Alaska!

The Flaming Lips: Now Onto The Conventional Stuff, i.e. Why I Love The Flaming Lips

The Flaming Lips. 

Favorite Song(s): Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pts. 1 & 2 (obviously). 

Favorite Album(s): At War With The Mystics, Clouds Taste Metallic

Now onto the conventional stuff: Why I love the Flaming Lips. My number one reason for this beyond the obvious (and if you can't figure that out, you should stop reading and impale yourself . . . uh, yeah) is that the only thing separating Wayne Coyne and I at the concert here last year was a large plastic bubble (just repeat those last three words in your head . . . to get the full effect . . . and then precede down page for the visual interpetation). 

There's not much else I'm going to say, because I have to leave in a little bit and haven't the time to say more. So . . . search the internet if you're really into reading some drab tidbit about The Flaming Lips . . . I'm sure there are about a million of them out there. 

Sleater-Kinney: Why I've Written About Them Before And Why I'm Writing About Them Again.

Who doesn't love a band that's totally rocking the strong power women trio thing? That's the basis for my love of Sleater-Kinney . . . besides the fact that their music is totally kickin'. I know I have written about them before, so I'll spare you the benign tidbits of my devotion towards female power artists (by that I mean I love good music created strong female leads, who doesn't . . . wait, I know who, misogynists . . . sheesh). Instead, I am going to set the scene . . . as I do for all my music . . . relay the mood. I know this is going to sound REALLY stupid but this power trio makes great as street music . . . now, please let me explain before, one gets to thinking that I'm crazy for making a comparison between this and the music on the urban street scene. 

Picture it: It's sunny. A bright day, the first one in what might have been a week . . . it's August or something like that . . . whenever hurricane season is because the tropical weather has pushed rains your way, flooding the north with cloudy skies and thousands of climate-induced depressed people . . . This day, however, the sky is clear . . . you know, in one of those "the world is your oyster" kind of ways . . . if that makes sense. Anyways, the sky is clear . . . blue with little patches of clean puffy white clouds . . . and beams of sunlight seem to be emitting somewhere from around your head as you walk confident and secure (in some sense I suppose I could say that is because you just listen to The New Pornographers after the scandal (see earlier post for more info) and woke up today to meet the world fully). What are you playing on the headphones? Sleater-Kinney, duh! Those indie punk riot grrrl beats . . . totally make an impact of the first day of sunshine! 

I, of course, totally know about this one from experience. Whenever I go out for a walk . . . to the market or wherever . . . I set the mood with a little bit of this . . . you know it, a little "Heart Factory"  or "Dance Song '97" are the soundtracks to every walk outside (well, not every, because this only really includes city walking where sidewalk is included). 

The New Pornographers: Sing Me Spanish Techno As I Walk Through Streets Of Fire

With The New Pornographers I have the albums Mass Romantic, Twin Cinema, and Electric Version, but I must say that I am quite partial to Twin Cinema over the other two (if you can't get it from the title my two favorite songs of theirs are "Sing Me Spanish Techno" and "Streets of Fire"). I'm kind of stuck on where to place these guys through way of the mood situation. 

What I'm kind of feeling, I'm kind of unsure of, because most of what I say by way of creating mood for music is based of personal experience and trial (like when I say Camera Obscura is good for the shower, it's because I've listened to it in the shower and a whole lot of other places . . . but I get the optimal feeling from it when in the shower . . . it just you know, connects). However, I've not actually tried or experienced what I'm feeling now . . . I'm just feeling that this is what I would do if possible. But anyways here it goes . . . the sitsu:

It's about 7:00, and you're going out for a night on the town with this wonderful guy (this situation is better suited if you're a female) and you're liked expecting this night to be totally cool, you know cause you've been out in the past and it was like . . . awesome, total connection, you know. So you're going to meet up at the cafe down the street and then go out for one of those dusk lit picnics in the quaint garden/park across the way. Obviously it's May or late April . . . still spring, but it feels like everything's on the brink of summer, but not quite yet because you still have to wear a light jacket for the cool nighttime. Anyways, you're at the cafe to meet up. You've been waiting for 20 minutes . . . you wait some more . . . then 30 minutes into your wait, you see a familiar someone walking along the street carrying the same basket he wooed you with on a previous date, except now on his other arm some other totty is chatting is up. You've been a) stood up and forgotten about, b) tossed aside for this complete lesser version of yourself, and c) totally hungry because you wanted to save some space in your tummy for that nasty food he always packs on the picnics anyways. Completely bashed, you walk back saddened and disheartened to your flat back down the street. Go up the flights of stairs; unlock the door. Throw down your jacket, purse . . . grab an apple from the bowl on the table . . . switch on the sound system . . . put on your headphones . . . crank up the volume . . . and listen to some New Pornographers. Now, everything is better. 

Wasn't that, like, completely picturesque. Don't you wish it had happened to you so, I don't know, you could actually know what the experience feels like and know if The New Pornographers actually does turn your frown upside down. Wow, that was a lame thing to say. Whatever. 

St. Vincent: What We Put On The Speakers For Some Good Ole Cooking And Babka Baking Bliss.

The next in the line up is St. Vincent. This is cooking music . . . baking music . . . babka making music.  It sets the perfect mood for anything you would ever want to make. John loves Annie Clark's voice so much that he puts it on every time he cooks or bakes . . . anything.  So, yeah, I suppose I am a little biased since I hear it every night (basically) while someone is cooking. However, even before he started doing such, I would put "Paris is Burning" on repeat while baking babka . . . it has the best rhythm to knead dough to . . . the same goes for chopping up fruit, veggies . . . it just kind of put you in this beat where everything flows just right . . . and when I'm in that beat I'm less likely to chop off a finger or get put off by kneading dough. 

Anyways, on I haven't mixed St. Vincent into the "Ultimate Alaskan Road Trip Music Mix" (that's the tentative name for it at the moment) . . . I'm figuring it'll be placed somewhere for the nighttime . . . with mountains . . . maybe another "Montana" . . . or maybe "British Columbia" . . . I don't really know how it is feeling for me right now. I'll figure out later. Hm. 

Yo La Tengo: Music For The Twelve O'Clock.

So yeah, I've been slacking with the musical selections, so today I'll be posting like a million of them. Starting today off, Yo La Tengo! This is music for the afternoon, you like some music is great for waking up and then other selctions are better for when its evening and dark out.  This is "it's twelve o'clock outside and the sun is shinging brightly and there is nothing that can stop the day from . . . being" music. Recently I put on the Yo La Tengo "I Am Not Afraid of You and Will Beat Your Ass" while I was slicing fruit in the afternoon . . . doing laundry . . . making gourd birdhouses.  You know all those multiple mid-afternoon, 12-4 pm activities you did when you're not at work. You turn the Yo La Tengo up really loud (because you can) and everything goes a little quicker.

Also, in the Alaskan Road Trip mix (John and I leave one week from now! EXCITED!), I've placed Yo La Tengo in the "Montana" part of the trip (I've divided the musical selections via state to make the task easier for me . . . we currently have the "Kansas," "Nebraska," "South Dakota," "Wyoming," "Montana," Idaho," Washington," "British Columbia," and "Alaska!" music mixes . . . they're not all finished, obviously). Anyways, that's all I have to write for now, goodbye. 

Le français est plus dur qu'il regarde : J'essaie ma main à l'écriture dans une langue étrangère et il ne résout pas très bien. Evidemment.

J'essaie de traiter mon français, donc j'écris cette poste en français. Je ne sais pas, mais je ne pense pas que ceci résoudra pour moi. Je suis un cours dans lui parce que je ne l'ai pas parlé puisque j'étais seize et je vais en France sur l'été l'année prochaine. Mon patron pense que j'ai besoin d'être préparé. Je ne suis pas dans lui qui beaucoup de mais essaie de ne pas faire ces sensations connues. De toute façon, je suis excité du voyage en France. Je n'ai pas été à l'Europe depuis ma période là-bas pendant un deux stage d'an. Bien sûr, pendant cette période que j'étais dans Autriche, donc ce n'était pas tout à fait le même comme ceci sera. J'ai apprécié l'Autriche tout à fait beaucoup, bien que. C'était un pays merveilleux avec les quantités abondantes d'histoire et de vues pour voir. Bien, je dois arrêter l'écriture maintenant. Je peux me sentir que ceci sera plus dur que j'ai pensé. Seulement la moitié de ces mots est correcte.

The Best Show on WFMU with Mixed Fruit Kabobs, Falafels, and a Day Spent Holidaying It Up.

I've been lost for a while, as you might have noticed. Last week I just got so bundled up with work and studying and work and dinner and bad television and pumpkins and everything that I just kind of forgot to post . . . anything. So I am finally picking it back up where I left off (not actually) finally. 

Well I can't really tote any music choices right now . . . because right now I'm catching back up on my "The Best Show on WFMU" via podcast because I haven't been able to listen to them live the last two weeks. Well, there's not much I can say about the show (its one of those that you need to listen to to experience it). 

Hmm. Well now, I'm going to go, I've got some laundry that needs to be done . . . and then I'm going to make some falafels (woot) and . . . I don't know . . . chopped apples, pear, banana, and strawberry kabobs . . . maybe with some dark chocolate inter-kabobed between the fruit. After that I'll be going all suburbia and putting up the fall seasonal decor around the house. You know, the cornucopia on the table, the pumpkins on the porch, and everything. 

This weekend I went out and bought like a million pumpkins (because I love pumpkins seeds baked with cinnamon) and the gourd vines I planted in the backyard have yielded quite a bit. I bought some last year (some gourd squash) and I've dried them out this year for me to make bird houses with (yay!). This being the first year that I haven't lived in the city, meaning that I now have a yard with trees, I can actually hang my bird house out in the yard. Real Meaning: I'm going to totally craft it up!  

Well sheesh, I have to go and study . . . I've got a couple of tests coming up . . . and I have to write, write, write. Whatever. John's going to go crazy if he finds out I'm making falafels . . . but who cares?

The 'rents came over this weekend . . . it was amazing!

The 'rents came over this weekend . . . it was amazing! 

I suppose I should make multiple corrections to the previous sentence . . . first of all, my 'rents did not come . . . because . . . well, my mother is no longer alive . . . and my father, well, I haven't spoken to him since I was sixteen and moved away to live with my mother and go to college. So, it was John's parents that came over and stayed in our guest room (that I thankfully had furnished when we moved in!) . . . the second correction . . . it was not amazing. 

It was rather stressful. John kept freaking out, which would stress me out . . . which would freak him out even more . . . and so on. But in the end I guess the stress wasn't really worth it, because everything worked out well . . . John would say however that the only reason it worked out was because he did stress out so much . . . but whatever. 

The next time I write I will finally get back to the ongoing Library selections . . . as I wasn't able to listen to any music this weekend . . . for the obvious reasons (i.e. John would have flipped out). 

Dressy Bessy: What I Go and Listen to on a Friday Night to Get a Drink and Forget About the 'Rents.

The post for today covers Dressy Bessy, if you couldn't get that from the title . . . duh. I went and saw them on Friday night in Lawrence at the Replay Lounge. They were really loud . . . comparatively to the other bands that played. Well, I like Dressy Bessy . . . I mean they're nice to listen to and everything . . . the only reason I went was because I had to stay late in Lawrence and was coerced by a friend . . . and I thought, "Hey! I'm already going to be staying here late, so might as well go to a bar listen to some Dressy Bessy and get a drink . . . because I sure know that I'll be savoring the need for this drink over the weekend when John's parent's are here."

 

So yeah, that's all I have to say, because . . . well, there isn't much for me to add. Okay?

Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah: Why Don't You Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah!

I am going to be ending the theme of yesterday, which was full of many UK artists and etc, by starting up today/tonight with some posts on another of my favorites, (I know the words favorite become redundant when you have too many, but hey, give me a break), Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah! I written about them before . . . and I might have even mentioned how Alec Ounsworth is god. 

But more to the point (not the Ounworth's godliness is not a point . . . ), Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah is music for . . . I dunno . . . driving in Alaska? I'm only saying that because I'm currently compiling some road trip music for mine and John's vacation to Alaska in a couple of weeks (yeah, I think I forgot to mention, John and I are going backpacking in Alaska! Woot?) and my road music from the whole Oregon-Washington-Canada-Alaska portion of the trip has an overwhelming amount of Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah in it . . . I suppose I still have a couple kinks to work out with it. 

But really picture this: "Some Loud Thunder" or "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" playing as we zip through the northwestern countryside . . . full of tall spruce trees and that muggy wet weather . . . it's kind of refreshing to think about . . . or at least I think it is. 

Oh, and I'm not going to post any pictures . . . because well, I'm tired of it . . . and I'm sure I posted some before so, if you really want to see some godly Alec Ounsworth, search the archives . . . or do it the easy way and just Google image search him . . . duh!

Belle & Sebastian: What Makes a Mean-Spirited Morning Full of Bad Facial Expressions and Hand Gestures, Without Due Cause, Better.

Belle & Sebastian. I've written about these folk before . . . or at least I believe I have  . . . and if not, I'm crazy to not have done so before.  I love them! Absolutely! I love them so much that I had John order me some merchandise via the Internet and have it shipped across the seas . . . which price-wise might seem like a complete mistake . . . but I have to say my Belle & Sebastian coffee cup is my favorite coffee cup . . . even if I only drink tea from it. 

I believe I wrote in my previous post some spiel how Belle & Sebastian is for those times when I'm in one want of all things pure and innocent (kind of like a way to cleanse my soul) which is kind of ironic . . . since the subject matter of their songs is sometimes a little less than pure . . . and probably questionable (but hey, I'm no ninny)  . . . it's just the sound, though . . . it's the sound of something pure, and because of both of these qualities it makes great driving music. 

My favorite instance where Belle & Sebastian is perfect: It's about 7:30 in the morning maybe a little earlier at 7:00 or a little later at 8:00, but not much past those times. You're in you're car on a morning commute 30 miles away . . . driving down the lanes of roadway past the 'burbs . . . there's a light layer of snow coating the ground and your windshield, windows still have patches of frost and ice stuck to them because you didn't have enough time to defrost the car before you left . . . at this time you have some light B&S playing in the background maybe something like "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love" maybe a little "Lord Anthony"  . . . then you finally get to the big road exchange that'll take you to the highway for the longer extent of the commute, and right when your about to pull off onto the highway . . . about to merge into oncoming traffic . . . you can't. Why? Because somebody from these damn Midwestern states is driving 25 mph on the highway, completely freaking out about the snow layer and on the ground that was left over from a snowy incident four days prior . . . they don't even try to switch over to the many other four lanes, with virtually no traffic on them, to allow you to merge . . . therefore, you have to break, come to a stop, and allow them to pass . . . and then while they're passing they become rather rude, flash you a mean glare and rather rude hand gesture . . .  enragement (yeah I know it's not a word) on your side ensues . . . allowing that the light side of B&S no longer fits, so you can immediately switch over to something like "Judy and The Dream of Horses, " We Are the Sleepyheads", or even "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" to better suit the mood. 

Of course, this situation is clearly circumstantial . . . and applies really only to . . . well, me, but hey, it still fits . . . and I'd say try it if you ever happen to . . . but I know nobody else will ever happen to be in the same.  Therefore, I will pacify you with pictures for making you read such a long and pointless story. 

So, yeah. It's dinner time . . . yes, John and I are eating an early dinner, because John's practicing with his whole multi-course dinners . . . you salad, soup, dessert . . . main entrees and everything . . . all because his parent's are coming over for a weekend stay (this weekend . . . I've forgotten to tell) and unlike last time we're not going to take them out to eat . . . but instead will be staying in to highlight the new kitchen John has to work his magic in. He's making some crazy traditional Norwegian cuisine . . . to impress them (probably to say hey, I still remember the homeland or something . . . (sheesh, that was kind of mean-spirited of me . . . it was all said in jest)). Anyways, we'll see how it goes . . . hopefully well. 

Burial: Why People Drive at Night and End Up Stopping at Those Fluorescently Lit Diners With French Fries and Diet Cola.

Now with this musician, I am actually still sticking to the UKian theme, despite the fact that its no longer indie pop that's being discussed . . . it more like . . . electronica dance music. With this I can say that I don't exactly know how/why I went from indie pop to well, this, but I did. Truth be told, I'm not a huge electronica dance beat music kind of person . . . I don't really get into it. However, in writing about this I will try to be unbiased and everything. 

Therefore, I will use the easy simple metaphor in trying to describe my feelings towards this . . . the road trip mix metaphor. On the normal long haul road trip (equalling more than 24 hours of driving, with appropriate and properly planned and decided mixes . . . not like those ones that 16 year old girls make to drive around with their gal-pals when they get their first car . . . because we can all agree those kind of mixes totally . . . suck?) this would be placed at nighttime (because, it is dance music, duh, therefore equalling too abrasive for the morning and too timid for the afternoon) while driving down one of those outer city limits highways . . . that are moderately devoid of traffic, but since it's in the sprawling outskirt suburbs of the big city, the highway/interstate is still lined with the yellow and white light emitted from the torch-like lanterns hanging over the roadway . . . to make the scene better, I will apply a few other things to emphasize the mood (these are just add-ins that can't be anticipated when making a driving mix like this). Here for effect, the roadway would be slightly wet . . . moistened from an afternoon of misty rain, with the air still smelling slightly of humidity and rising gasoline and oil fumes . . . causing a slightly halo-ed affect due to the light cast by the overhead lanterns . . . and making the road lines hard to see, causing a late night stop right on the outskirts at some fluorescently lit diner serving french fries and diet cola . . . 

Okay, so I might have let myself get carried away . . . but what I just describe is the exact mood of this music . . . and as always try it out if you don't believe me . . . meanwhile look at some pictures to let it soak in. 

So, I should go now . . . and you know, let it sink in some more . . . because I doubt it fully has still. 

Camera Obscura: Why They Set the Perfect Scene for Providing the Ultimate Showering Entertainment.

To keep up with the UKian theme of the last two posts, I am going to be writing about some Camera Obscura now (and probably some Belle & Sebastian . . . The Divine Comedy . . . The Pogues . . . after that, I suppose it's really what I'm comfortable listening to at the moment . . .  which who knows, could be some, I dunno Talib Kweli? or Funkadelic? (I'm just trying the think of a complete opposite to Camera Obscura . . . didn't work out well)). 

So, Camera Obscura . . . I briefly . . . and confusingly (maybe) mentioned in my last post that Camera Obscura gets me through the stress of showering, and I suppose I should follow that statement with one saying that it was/is completely true.  Camera Obscura is music for the shower, at least for me . . . My brother, back in the day, bought me one of those waterproofed CD players (outdated now, I know, but hey, it still works!) so I could listen to stuff in the shower and be able to hear it, unlike when you pull the boombox out and set it up on the bathroom sink, turn up the volume to max, and hope that you'll still be able to hear it when the shower's running . . . apparently he though that if I used this, it would solve that problem and make one not want to eh, sing in the shower? Anyways, nowdays . . . I just use a rotation of Camera Obscura CD's (I have all the released albums, Let's Get Out of This Country, Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi, Underachievers Please Try Harder, and their EP, Rare UK Bird) 

Now I know you're questioning me, but really everything I'm saying is true . . . Camera Obscura is the ultimate showering music . . . it's mellow enough so that you're not tempted to fall asleep (if you're ever tempted to fall asleep in the shower) but abrasive enough so that you're not tempted to lounge around use more water (that valuable resource, you know) than needed to make yourself clean again. If you don't believe me try it out, Camera Obscura works to time the perfect shower. 

Weren't those enjoyable? I especially loved the one of the showerhead system (of which, I actaully had installed during the new home renovations . . . a bit pricey, but totally worth it . . . it's like I'm being showered by a raincloud, which equals wonderful). I also choose to go with a little bit of irony, but I'm not going to get into it for those that don't get it, because it's really not worth it . . . really. 

Good Shoes: Why I Can Never Find the Right Pair of Shoes Mixed with an Appropriate Snippet About Los Campesinos!.

So I feel bad, for not commenting much on Los Campesinos! yesterday, therefore I will be throwing a minor snippet in with this post about Good Shoes (yeah, I was totally playing up a horribly bad pun with the title . . . reality though, I never can find the right pair of shoes . . . sheesh). Anyways, I have their (Los Campesinos!) album Hold on Now, Youngster . . . and their EP Sticking Fingers into Sockets, from which their Pavement cover of "Frontwards" is on . . . which if you can't tell I adore . . . because yeah . . . I like Pavement . . . uhh, yeah. I'm getting off track a little bit I guess, so back to Los Campesinos!, rather than Pavement. This is music for the the working day, whenever I'm spending one of those long nights at the office (despite the fact that its not a office). For instance last year at this time during those long night grading papers while being snowed in on the weekends . . .  this was the comfort music that made me not want to poke my eyes out due to the large number of syntax errors (I mean really who forgets to capitalize "I" over and over again . . . especially when the essay's suppose to be written in third person? AH!).  

NOW: Back to the real theme of this post . . . Good Shoes. Now, this is good blog writing music . . . or even just writing music in general. Flashback to last fall again: just after I got over that string of stomach flu and shingles (on my face, AH!) I was dealing with tons of writing and research . . . (and more and more of both of those things than I would ever be able to impress upon you)  . . . and to get through the strenuous task of writing about something so over-exhausted/over-researched as what I was writing about (I'm not even going to get into that) I popped on the Good Shoes and made it . . . thankfully! I think its that whole UKian indie pop thing . . . that gets me through things . . . Los Campesinos! for stressful grading . . . Good Shoes for writing . . . Belle & Sebastian for commutes . . . Camera Obscura for (hmmm, I dunno, showers?)  . . . ANYWAYS, I'm getting off topic. 

So, now I suppose this is the pertain of the post that I post a couple pictures to break the monotony and give my typing fingers a tad bit of a break . . . okay?

And now I suppose is where I leave to . . . do something else . . . I think I'm going to take a nap . . . or maybe get some lunch. John didn't have the good graces to pack me another lunch today since I told him yesterday that I didn't/wasn't able to eat the lunch he packed yesterday.  I'm going to get some mango, avocado, plum, pear, grapes . . . and maybe a little banana . . . and chop them up into little chunks before impaling them on long toothpicks to make what I'm calling a fruit explosion shishkabob . . . and yes, it's quite delicious.  

Los Campesinos! : Why a Visual Display Does Best To Describe This Group Rather Than My Words . . . Oh, and They Played Pavement . . . Total Plus.

Rather than try to describe Los Campesinos! with words, I am going to provide a visual display instead . . . and if I can get the technical issues worked out . . . I'm going to provide a Widget that will be able to provide a sampling of the artist that I am talking about for the day . . . or something like that. Enjoy this for now?

Yeah . . . kind of wasn't worth it, huh? Thought so, I should work on this more . . . because I really do love Los Campesinos! . . . I mean, they covered a Pavement song . . . which equals cool in all ways, duh!

The Thermals: What Makes a Kickin' Weekend Kickin" (In Other Words: What Brightens a Day?)

So, yeah . . . I'm a sucker for those indie rock bands . . . like The Thermals. Hmmm . . . The Thermals are music for two occasions: the first being, rainy (and by rainy, I mean it's been raining for three days straight and there's now a river coming through your back yard now because the ground's no longer able to keep up with it) days in the summer and the second being snowy (and by snowy I mean there's at least a foot of snow and you're running around in it building awesome snow men and women with carrots for noses and igloos in it) days in the winter. For some reason, for me at least, these are the days when this music works the most . . . so, well, watch out, for these days (as they are rare and few) and when they happen to come along . . . pop some of The Thermals on and enjoy. 

Eye Vomit: 

Hmmm . . . I suppose I have nothing else to say . . . other than, this is my third post for today (I think) and well, I suppose I should stop for today . . . I haven't had any lunch and well, John had the good graces to pack me a lunch today (in a brown paper sack and everything). Too bad that I got home before lunchtime and there had no reason to pull out the paper sack at work/school/whatever. Now, I'm going to go and open it up and check out what goodies lie inside . . . I hope it's pita and hummus . . . and mango . . . no some plum . . . no mangoes AND plums . . . maybe a little banana on the side . . . yum.