I’m very impatient. My hairstylist Sue has been on maternity leave since mid May. Around 3 weeks ago I made my girlfriend Julija cut my bangs for me. She did a lovely job but we didn’t go very short out of fear of messing everything up… Fucked up with no Sue to call on isn’t my idea of pretty. It’s been raining pretty regularly here so I hadn’t been bothering to straighten my hair for a while. Saturday I figured I’d give it a go since the sun came out 2 consecutive days and all. The result of that was a very Joey Ramone looking Ana. I waited for about two seconds for Julija to arrive at my apartment before I grabbed my grooming kit and wielded my 10″ straights aiming them straight for my eyes. I did all the things that Julija had taught me but they were coming out very crooked and I was hyperventilating. So like any bad groomer would do I went into my kit and pulled out my thinning shears… In my industry we refer to these as the “magic erasures”. I went to town with them and slowly began not looking like… well like a girl that just cut her own bangs. Or at least I’d like to think so. It took me about an hour and a half before I threw on a hat and braved the outside world. Since then no one has said anything, I think it’s safe to say I don’t completely suck at this DIY stuff. But that’s not to say I won’t be running with arms wide open towards Sue when she returns. I’m not cut out for this shit.
I’ve already previously stated my love and obsession with the Grizzly Bear song Two Weeks. And with the extreme love for a song comes the image of a great video. That is until I saw the video…
Seriously? Seriously, Grizzly Bear what were you thinking? This is one of the worst videos I’ve seen in a long time. I was so disappointed. It was like I carried a child for 9 months and it was born hideous. Why would you knock me up with an ugly baby Grizzly Bear? How rude. So you get the picture, I was vexed. Until a friend of mine sent me this…
And all hope was restored thanks to this user created video edited with footage from Albert Lamorisse’s 1956 film “La Ballon Rouge”. It has to be terrible when some guy in his basement downing Mountain Dew all night makes a better music video than you do. And no offense to the creator of this video, it’s awesome. I just can’t help but imagine fat, sweaty guys downing Mountain Dew… it’s a habit. But enough about them. This user video is fantabulous. Certainly worthy of the song. Thank you jthelms.
My brothers were little bad-asses when we were growing up in Brooklyn. They landed themselves in jail, group homes and all sorts of bad situations because of their need for “thug life”. My parents thought it best to leave Brooklyn in favor of Staten Island to curb their bad behavior. At the time I didn’t even know that Staten Island was in New York, I remember crying to my schoolmates about having to move to another state. Silly child. The move didn’t help all that much. My brothers will always be bad-asses, the only thing that curbed that behavior was aging and the arrival of their children. But one key aspect of being hardcore was their choice in pet. When we first moved to Staten Island my oldest brother Christopher brought home a teeny tiny brindle bundle that as hard as my mother tried and as many times as she said no, she simply couldn’t resist. I remember it like it was yesterday. Chris put Bandit’s teeny face up to my mom and he licked her nose, she smiled and that was it.
So Bandit was my first Pit Bull (named from Johnny Quest). My brother tried all he could to make him seem dangerous, he cropped his ears, gave him a ridiculously over-sized spike collar and a heavy ass chain link leash. None of this worked. Sure Bandit look intimidating, but as hardcore as my brothers thought they were they couldn’t train Bandit to be anything less than lovable and amazing.
Bandit used to sleep in front of my bed and guard me when I slept. I guess that’s as vicious as he got. If you came near me when I was asleep he’d very quietly growl at you. Once my brother and me were play fighting and he pounced on my brother and barked in his face for him to leave me alone. His intimidation ended there. We have a large family as most Hispanics can say about their kin and this meant tons of babies and toddlers crawling around and pulling on Bandit’s ears and tail. He never even lifted a head to the torture. He’d simply lay and take it while he was jumped all over. Bandit was well behaved, he barley barked… he mostly slept. He was big on cuddling, he was light weight so his need for being a lapdog was fine by me. He fathered 1 litter of puppies before we neutered him, which was how we came to have our next Pit Bull Duchess/Heaven. When he was about 6 his heart gave out on him and he collapsed. That was the end of Bandit. He was an amazing dog that forever changed my world. I haven’t and will never have any other breed of dog thanks to him. My first Pit love.
I’m sorry for slacking on this months playlist. Believe it or not I had it all ready and arranged for weeks, I’ve just been procrastinating. I’m a terrible person. The most difficult part about May’s playlist was narrowing down which songs to use by some of the artists. Trust me it would have been fun for me to use as much as three tracks from each artist but I didn’t want to bombard the playlist. So as hard as it was I managed to sucked it up and narrow it down.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
I hope you enjoy May’s selection. Happy listening.
(Trust me, I’m already working on June so if I’m late it’s just because I’m a huge douche.)
P.S. In case you’re new to this sign up and listen to all the songs in full here.
In case you didn’t know I have a bit of a Gilmore Girls addiction. Me and my mother used to watch it together and when we no longer lived with each other we’d talk on the phone after every new episode. I was very sad to see the show go and since it ended have been watching 6 seasons of it on loop thanks to ABC Family. One thing that’s always bothered me was how dirty the network did Amy Sherman-Palladino and the fact that I’ll never know the way she wanted the show to end. She always talked about how she knew since the beginning how she’d wanted to end it and the network robbed her and us of that satisfaction. Recently ABC Family acquired the rights to the 7th and final season of Gilmore. A season I didn’t really enjoy, it felt rushed and unfamiliar. The characters were slightly unlike themselves. The storyline shifted in ways I wasn’t happy with. But today as I was watching the very musically charged final Palladino written episode I actually cried. I’d seen this episode countless times, it should no longer have an effect on me. But when Rory and Logan were saying goodbye and Luke and Lorelai were breaking up, it felt almost like (yes, I’m lame) a goodbye to Palladino. Perhaps the show should have stopped there to spare us the out of character ending we got later.
As much as a part of me wishes for a Gilmore movie to rectify the wrong I know it would be terrible. Sort of like what the Sex and the City movie did to me. I’ll never understand why Michael Patrick King thought he could write that movie on his own when he wrote the show with a team. Without them I felt the same way about that film like I do the last season of Gilmore. It was vaguely what it was supposed to be like but missing something that made it work. I could go on and on about my distaste for that movie, but I’ll save it for another blog.
May was a month of repetition. Not that anything was overly redundant but the music was so damn good I had to replay it to the point of irritating loved ones. That’s mostly because they have no taste and can’t hang. It’s safe to say that on any given day you run into me while I’m grooving to my iPod one of the top 3 albums of May will be blasting through my headphones.
I would especially like to focus on the new Grizzly Bear album. I very much enjoyed their last album Yellow House and even went to see them live but still I wasn’t that huge a fan. Veckatimest on the other hand is phenomenal. The first day I listened to it I got stuck on Two Weeks and played it 16 times in a row, had I not arrived at my job who knows how much farther I would have taken it. It took some time before I got through the rest of the album and found tons of replay valued tracks. This album gives me heart palpitations and that’s a reaction of the highest order for music in my book. I strongly recommend acquiring it. I’m not big on reviewing so I’ll leave it at that, which is not to say the rest of the 5 aren’t worth your time because they are. Go do your job and listen to them asap.
So I forgot to update everyone about my getting into college after I recently discussed applying. Yes, I got into CSI, which is no prize but for now it’s something. It shows I’m at least trying not to fail at life. And much like Terrence my nightmare is already taking shape. To start they didn’t even notify me that I was accepted, I got no ‘big envelope’ in the mail (good thing I’m an excellent investigator). Then they didn’t tell me I had to take a placement test or that I was already scheduled for one (which I found out when trying to schedule it). So I have until June 22nd to bone up on useless high school level Math and English. But hopefully in 10 years when I graduate I can escape the torture of a low paying dead end job. Which brings me to a very serious item on the Murtaugh List.
I’m too old to be working a dead end job. Now I know it’s hard to acquire a job that you don’t hate, that would be asking too much. I just want a job with some growth or direction. When I first interviewed for my job they injected me with notions and fairy-tales of growth and joy. Lies. We don’t even get a bullshit annual raise of $0.25 like most minimum wage positions. I feel seriously oppressed.
I hope in the long run I don’t give up on myself. It would be a pity to be defeated by the stress of CSI like most others do… it would be another tragedy to still be working towards my BA past 30. Although I most likely will. Since my goal is for a PhD I’ll most likely be in college until I’m 50… or even worse dead. I wonder is I’ll get a tuition discount for being deceased. Something to think about.