Just got back from seeing OK Go at the House of Blues- they did this song there as well, although this is a clip from an earlier concert. It was hysterical!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy545VgWWz8
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
They found him...
Three posts in one day- you know something's up. I was just surfing the web, and came across this article:
http://www.denverpost.com/ci_12268007
I can't believe that they actually found him- well, his remains, anyway. Wow!
http://www.denverpost.com/ci_12268007
I can't believe that they actually found him- well, his remains, anyway. Wow!
Who's number one??
Answer: Me!!!
Just got the latest league standings in my e-mail. Yours truly has taken the lead in the recurve division- true, it's only a half-a-point difference, and Irina was shooting injured (one of the hazards of archery is pulling arrows- you don't pay attention, and you could put an eye out- which she almost did), but still, it's number one. It'll probably change by this time next week, but I'll enjoy it while it lasts!
Here are the standings:
Recurve:
Kristen: 19-8
Irina: 18.5-6
Thure: 15-8
Rho: 14-7
Lionel: 6.5-16
Just got the latest league standings in my e-mail. Yours truly has taken the lead in the recurve division- true, it's only a half-a-point difference, and Irina was shooting injured (one of the hazards of archery is pulling arrows- you don't pay attention, and you could put an eye out- which she almost did), but still, it's number one. It'll probably change by this time next week, but I'll enjoy it while it lasts!
Here are the standings:
Recurve:
Kristen: 19-8
Irina: 18.5-6
Thure: 15-8
Rho: 14-7
Lionel: 6.5-16
T-minus 36 hours...
In about 36 hours we will be celebrating my father's 50th birthday. This year, instead of going out to eat, or having a few friends over for dinner, or even seeing a movie- last year it was a choice between "You Don't Mess with the Zohan" and "Sex and the City" (it was a choice of the lesser evils on that one)- this year he's decided he wants a party.
Not just any party, mind you, a squadron party. Now, we haven't hosted one of those since he retired about 9 years ago. Squadron parties, from what I can remember, involve enormous amounts of alcohol, people passed out in odd places, and at least one person ending up in the spa, with their clothes on (thank god!). Of course, this is nearly ten years ago- as my Mom has pointed out to him on more than one occasion, everyone is a lot older, so it's not going to be the same. The three of us, my Mom, sister and I, have a running bet on how early the party ends- I'm going for 10:30-11:00.
It's been funny too, watching all of the planning (it won't be tomorrow, when I'll be setting up tables and chairs, and Mom's had at least one meltdown- there's always at least one- the holidays get gruesome). Dad, of course, wanted to run out to Costco and buy big boxes of cheese sticks, buffalo wings, and pot stickers. Mom, on the other hand, wanted something more refined- cheese and fruit, veggies and dip, sushi rolls- you get the idea. So, it's an interesting compromise- we've got California healthy next to Midwest artery clogging, and enough alcohol to supply a frat house for a year. It's sitting in the guest room, along with the new mirrors and plumbing for the bathroom remodels in June. I'm not sure where Katherine will be sleeping this time around.
But, with any luck, there will be no meltdowns, the rain will not come (and when are the weather people ever accurate?), everything will arrive on time, and the neighbors won't call the cops, and the party will be a success. Here's hoping!
Not just any party, mind you, a squadron party. Now, we haven't hosted one of those since he retired about 9 years ago. Squadron parties, from what I can remember, involve enormous amounts of alcohol, people passed out in odd places, and at least one person ending up in the spa, with their clothes on (thank god!). Of course, this is nearly ten years ago- as my Mom has pointed out to him on more than one occasion, everyone is a lot older, so it's not going to be the same. The three of us, my Mom, sister and I, have a running bet on how early the party ends- I'm going for 10:30-11:00.
It's been funny too, watching all of the planning (it won't be tomorrow, when I'll be setting up tables and chairs, and Mom's had at least one meltdown- there's always at least one- the holidays get gruesome). Dad, of course, wanted to run out to Costco and buy big boxes of cheese sticks, buffalo wings, and pot stickers. Mom, on the other hand, wanted something more refined- cheese and fruit, veggies and dip, sushi rolls- you get the idea. So, it's an interesting compromise- we've got California healthy next to Midwest artery clogging, and enough alcohol to supply a frat house for a year. It's sitting in the guest room, along with the new mirrors and plumbing for the bathroom remodels in June. I'm not sure where Katherine will be sleeping this time around.
But, with any luck, there will be no meltdowns, the rain will not come (and when are the weather people ever accurate?), everything will arrive on time, and the neighbors won't call the cops, and the party will be a success. Here's hoping!
Monday, April 27, 2009
But that one song...redux
One more song (for now) that I had to share- "It Wasn't Me" Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was just watching from over here
And besides, I couldn't afford the bus fare
In Hollywood and Washington
They shake and smile through the harm they've done
But it's your little red wagon and you gotta pull
It'll take a lifetime to clear your name
Under the bridges of fame it's always nighttime
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was stone drunk, it isn't clear
And it doesn't count cause I don't care
The years transform my memories
Of all the countless decades of grief
It was cut and run in '91
Put yourselves in a straightjacket
But when you're pleading
Saying it's no cheaper than humiliation
That's free...
That's free...
That's free...
I've gone and quit my worshipping
Of the false gods and golden sins
Cause we've made love in the Tower of Babel and it fell down
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
That was not my love affair
That is not my lover, that's not even my friend
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was stone drunk, it isn't clear
And it doesn't count cause I don't care
But I use a pop song to clear my name
Under the bridges of fame it's always nighttime
I'll end with a closure and say goodnight
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was just watching from over here
And besides, I couldn't afford the bus fare
In Hollywood and Washington
They shake and smile through the harm they've done
But it's your little red wagon and you gotta pull
It'll take a lifetime to clear your name
Under the bridges of fame it's always nighttime
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was stone drunk, it isn't clear
And it doesn't count cause I don't care
The years transform my memories
Of all the countless decades of grief
It was cut and run in '91
Put yourselves in a straightjacket
But when you're pleading
Saying it's no cheaper than humiliation
That's free...
That's free...
That's free...
I've gone and quit my worshipping
Of the false gods and golden sins
Cause we've made love in the Tower of Babel and it fell down
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
That was not my love affair
That is not my lover, that's not even my friend
It wasn't me, I wasn't there
I was stone drunk, it isn't clear
And it doesn't count cause I don't care
But I use a pop song to clear my name
Under the bridges of fame it's always nighttime
I'll end with a closure and say goodnight
Saturday, April 25, 2009
But that one song...I mostly keep listening to that over and over again
A few weeks ago at league, Thure and I started talking about music, mostly because of my DeVotchka inspired tattoo. Then last week he made a couple of mixed cd's of some of his favourites- I had given him a DeVotcka mix the week before. I've really enjoyed the music so far, but this one song, "Phantom Doll," by Tracy Grammer, I mostly just keep listening to that over and over again.
raggedy ann came out to play
kittened a thin disguise against the day
painted a face across the mask
victim of the looking glass:
store windows are cruel
mannequin charms outshine her own
running away from her reflection home
hangin her head behind the door
sleepin on the kitchen floor
in glorious dreams
she walks outside her skin
her face so fine, her waist so thin
her voice like chimes and mandolins
beautiful phantom doll
saturday night on circus street
beating a long and ill-conceived retreat
carnival barkers bar her way
she never hears a word they say
in glorious dreams
she strolls, the boys beseech
the venus queen of venice beach
so near, so ever out of reach
beautiful phantom doll
midnight, the struggle is over
rise up, lily-white delicate shoulders
outside, the poets all know her
all of her children are waiting…
beggars and wrecks line junkyard lanes
tiffany slippers click-clack through the rain
rickety bones and sheer chiffon
dancin on the mayor's lawn
in glorious dreams
they glide through gilded rooms
the drakes and gravely pale dragoons
the wasted daughters of the moon
beautiful phantom doll
raggedy andy wrote this song
scribbled it here where oceans meet the dawn
scuttled away on hansen claws
cinderella sailors draw
on glorious dreams
sunrise, she spins her spells
on rising tides of wishing wells
on aphrodite lotus shells
beautiful phantom doll
check it out here at http://www.tracygrammer.com/html/music.html
raggedy ann came out to play
kittened a thin disguise against the day
painted a face across the mask
victim of the looking glass:
store windows are cruel
mannequin charms outshine her own
running away from her reflection home
hangin her head behind the door
sleepin on the kitchen floor
in glorious dreams
she walks outside her skin
her face so fine, her waist so thin
her voice like chimes and mandolins
beautiful phantom doll
saturday night on circus street
beating a long and ill-conceived retreat
carnival barkers bar her way
she never hears a word they say
in glorious dreams
she strolls, the boys beseech
the venus queen of venice beach
so near, so ever out of reach
beautiful phantom doll
midnight, the struggle is over
rise up, lily-white delicate shoulders
outside, the poets all know her
all of her children are waiting…
beggars and wrecks line junkyard lanes
tiffany slippers click-clack through the rain
rickety bones and sheer chiffon
dancin on the mayor's lawn
in glorious dreams
they glide through gilded rooms
the drakes and gravely pale dragoons
the wasted daughters of the moon
beautiful phantom doll
raggedy andy wrote this song
scribbled it here where oceans meet the dawn
scuttled away on hansen claws
cinderella sailors draw
on glorious dreams
sunrise, she spins her spells
on rising tides of wishing wells
on aphrodite lotus shells
beautiful phantom doll
check it out here at http://www.tracygrammer.com/html/music.html
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I love the gym...
Okay, let me clarify that title, just in case anyone reading thinks I'm some sort of masochistic fiend. I really don't know anyone who can say, without clarification, that they love the gym. There are things I do love about the gym.
1) the endorphin rush. For about two hours after I finish up at the gym, I'm in the best mood ever- singing in the shower, full of life and energy, ready to take on the world. After that two-hour window, the little aches and pains come back, storm clouds descend, and I'm back to feeling like Peter at the beginning of "Office Space"' "so everyday you see me, I'm having the worst day of my life." Okay, I'm being a bit dramatic.
2) the tv- unlike my old gym, which had a plethora of channels- including the Food Network (and I want to know what kind of person puts the Food Network on where people are trying to lose weight?)- and you could have the channels changed- the tv at my current gym is perpetually on the same five channels. However, I still get my fill of the morning news, latest celebrity gossip (if I get there early enough), and on the weekends, the latest infomercials. The "Magic Bullet" people have a new slicer-dicer out, and I swear I'm going to get a Jack LaLaine juicer one of these days. Today, though, it was the Power Rangers- I remember it being distinctly low-budget, but not that low budget. Wow. That's all I can say.
3) the people- I'm used to seeing the usuals there- one woman is always there- even before me, and I waltz in at 4:15 or so. Today, she didn't show until 5 this morning- in fact, the whole morning was kind of odd- I was the only one in the front cardio section, and it stayed that way for most of my workout- just a little too weird, to be honest.
4) the workout itself- for me, one of the best ways to beat stress, or anything else really, is to pound my knees and ankles into oblivion on the treadmill, getting disgustingly sweaty and listening to music on my i-pod that I won't otherwise admit to- alternative rockers next to heavy metal next to pop princesses. I'd like to think that R.E.M, Van Halen, and Taylor Swift would be able to find some sort of common ground- though that does sound like the start of a really bad joke.
So yes, I do love the gym- it keeps me fit, keeps me informed, and keeps me sane, which is the most important thing!
1) the endorphin rush. For about two hours after I finish up at the gym, I'm in the best mood ever- singing in the shower, full of life and energy, ready to take on the world. After that two-hour window, the little aches and pains come back, storm clouds descend, and I'm back to feeling like Peter at the beginning of "Office Space"' "so everyday you see me, I'm having the worst day of my life." Okay, I'm being a bit dramatic.
2) the tv- unlike my old gym, which had a plethora of channels- including the Food Network (and I want to know what kind of person puts the Food Network on where people are trying to lose weight?)- and you could have the channels changed- the tv at my current gym is perpetually on the same five channels. However, I still get my fill of the morning news, latest celebrity gossip (if I get there early enough), and on the weekends, the latest infomercials. The "Magic Bullet" people have a new slicer-dicer out, and I swear I'm going to get a Jack LaLaine juicer one of these days. Today, though, it was the Power Rangers- I remember it being distinctly low-budget, but not that low budget. Wow. That's all I can say.
3) the people- I'm used to seeing the usuals there- one woman is always there- even before me, and I waltz in at 4:15 or so. Today, she didn't show until 5 this morning- in fact, the whole morning was kind of odd- I was the only one in the front cardio section, and it stayed that way for most of my workout- just a little too weird, to be honest.
4) the workout itself- for me, one of the best ways to beat stress, or anything else really, is to pound my knees and ankles into oblivion on the treadmill, getting disgustingly sweaty and listening to music on my i-pod that I won't otherwise admit to- alternative rockers next to heavy metal next to pop princesses. I'd like to think that R.E.M, Van Halen, and Taylor Swift would be able to find some sort of common ground- though that does sound like the start of a really bad joke.
So yes, I do love the gym- it keeps me fit, keeps me informed, and keeps me sane, which is the most important thing!
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