Hey everyone who reads this (by which I mean "Hey Scott and Anne"):
I am moving my blog over to Wordpress so that I can password protect things. Check me out!
It isn't all tricked out yet (as if I ever truly trick anything out) but I can write with relative privacy when I want to, which makes me very happy. Anyway, update yr quote-unquote BLOGROLLS, y'all.
My five-word Gravity's Rainbow synopsis:
Death is really, really sexy.
I am the worst blogger ever
Why do I feel so boring? Nobody knows.
I Hate Talking at Concerts
Will and I went to see My Morning Jacket & Saul Williams at the Aladdin last night and, while the show was great, I have renewed my hatred for people talking during concerts. For some reason, we happened to be sitting next to about twenty couples on first dates, all of whom were having totally insipid conversations at high volume during the whole show. I mean, it makes sense if you're at a low-dough show at Dante's or something and just wandered in, but for a fucking $25 show, you knew there would be a band, you knew people would want to hear them, and still you decided that would be a great time to get to know each other. Fuck that.
In other news, Will has a blog
, which is very awesome and should be enjoyed by all. He also has the best url on the internet in my book - bobloblawsmom.blogspot.com. Say it aloud, it is great. I don't know if y'all watch Arrested Development, which is where he got the Bob Loblaw part, but it is great and should also be enjoyed by all. Bob Loblaw. Comedy genius.
My new job is pretty great so far, I love working downtown even if I feel like a total fraud around all the serious businesspeople. I especially love eating at Happy Bowl for lunch. The other day I was enjoying my Happy Bowl and all of a sudden an anti-war protest comes out of nowhere, all marching and yelling all over the place. The cops apparently started giving someone a ticket, then all the protesters started yelling "LET HIM GO! LET HIM GO!" and when they let him go, they yelled "YAY!", to which some aging besuited men behind me started yelling "BOO! BOO!". I love when old men yell "BOO!" because it usually means something I approve of is happening.
Anyway, back to work tomorrow, typing title insurance policies in the Congress Center. As unexcited as I am to get up hella early tomorrow, the dread I feel about it, as compared to my old job, is less intense by orders of magnitude. The only thing is I still haven't stopped hearing KISN (oldies) songs in my head all day every day. I woke up with Neil Diamond stuck in my head today. Every night I pray that this ends soon.