the prettiest songs ever*, according to me:

drift - Ginger Envelope
i wanna be adored - Stone Roses

thirteen - Big Star
sunny afternoon - Kinks
comfort me - Carla Thomas
just like honey - Jesus & Mary Chain
en gallop - Joanna Newsom
play with fire - Rolling Stones
you send me - Sam Cooke
tonight - Sybille Baier
fade into you - Mazzy Star
plans - Grizzly Bear
heart like a wheel - Kate and Anna McGarrigle
norwegian wood - The Beatles
pale blue eyes - Velvet Underground
dreams - Fleetwood Mac
falling from grace - The Gentle Waves
colours - Donovan
have you forgotten - Red House Painters
not the way - Cass McCombs
alone in kyoto - Air
if not for you - Bob Dylan
crutch - Pinback
green fields - The Good, the Bad, and the Queen
tiger trap - Beat Happening
i believe in fate - Papas Fritas

It goes without saying: anything by Elliott Smith



*in no particular order

ce moment-là du mois

Due to a combination of several pathetic and ultimately trivial reasons (none worth mentioning), I actually cried at work yesterday. It should be noted: a common misconception is that girls cry out of sadness. While I have cried in sadness, I mostly (in my adult life) cry when somebody pisses me off hardcore.

Boys punch stuff, girls cry.

While sobbing into my hands, hidden in an empty office, I realized I couldn't remember the last time I cried. I mean a real cry. Maybe one year? Maybe two? I totally forgot crying feels REALLY GOOD. After my mini-breakdown I felt so fine - clear and revitalized.

In highschool I had a friend who made herself cry in the shower every day. I scoffed at the time, but now I may understand her motivation.



Also I realized I'm totally a game player.
Not like "playing the game."
More like: hanging out with me is a constant mind fuck.


Oh, is that my period? Oops.

psychic pain

Wish this dude was still alive

OH MY GOD IT'S ELECTROCLASH!

Creme Blush - "Spree"  [circa 2001]*



*Gratuitous usage of brackets instead of parentheses 

made you, like, the raddest kid on Livejournal. LJ4evr!!!!

life rules.

How I (now) deal with sadness/rejection/heartbreak/loneliness:

Paint my toenails.

Watch mind-numbing QVC.

Listen to Liz Phair/Sleater-Kinney.

Read Judy Blume.

Find my friends....

I always IM Christopher when I'm feeling down about dudes. He's seriously the best when it comes to that shit. He lets me say anything and then suggests we watch Wall-E together on some pirate website.  Mind you, he lives in Brooklyn. Me, Atlanta. Telepresence!?

We totally watched Wall-E "together." (Possibly the gayest/cutest thing I've ever done).

Love saved planet Earth & fat people!

Later, we discussed the top 5 ways to die:

1. Burning alive in a public area while having sex with Natalie Portman (that one's all C.)

2. Gunshot to the brain. 

3. Sex-induced death. 

4a. Death by sheer volume at a Motorhead show 

4b. Death by epilepsy from Daft Punk's light show

5. Heroin overdose

Pretty much the best bad day ever! 

kind of obsessed with

this song right now.

chill out, y'all

...with some Ethiopique:

not surprising

Rotting dead body found at McCarren Pool.

kiana: i'm not doing the swimming thing on saturday, fyi

kiana: i nixed any plans. I DO WHAT I WANT.

kiana: fuck bathing suits

zarinah: yeah no fing way

zarinah: over my dead body

zarinah: HAHA

zarinah: GET IT

zarinah: NO POOLS!

kiana: HAHAHAHAHA

zarinah: DEAD BODIES!

smoke gets in your eyes

I always thought working in advertising would be so glamorous — fancy clients, expense accounts, first class business travel, powerful/sexy men to bat my eyelashes at.

Boy. Was. I. Wrong.

My first stint in advertising was at a music magazine in NYC. The only "fabulous" part of this experience were the "perks" (free shows, free booze, free drugs, etc). But you got those perks even if you were an intern. And though I was a paid employee, I still had to make coffee runs.

Now I am employed on the other side of that world - at a pretty large, progressive ad agency. Nothing extremely glamorous. (Read: desk job). Although we pretty much get to wear whatever we want - god knows how atrocious business-casual can be.


It's for these and other obvious reasons that I'm so so so excited for the second season of AMC's Mad Men. The show perfectly depicts my fantasies of the New York City ad scene in the 1950s...

Dashing ad executives smoking cigarettes and sipping on bourbon in their wood paneled offices overlooking Manhattan while they make passes at their well-endowed not-so-innocent secretaries.





Season 2 premiers July 27 on AMC.

in the hot hot rays

What's up, dudes. I took the day off because I can. And although sun-bathing is relaxing, it's hot as Hades outside. I can't really see the screen...actually my macbook might combust from this heat.

POOOOOOLSIDE BLOGGIN edition 1:

The good thing about having parents that live in suburban Atlanta is that once in a blue moon, bands will play at Whirlyball in Roswell, GA (10 min from homebase) - which means I get a home cooked meal before a home cooked show. Saturday night it was Dark Meat and DIPLO. Who knew the 'burbs could be so much fun?

Dark Meat was psychadelic, smelly, and (as always) infectious:

Whirlyball was played.

And Diplo rocked the faces off southern suburban frat boys (and me!):

We had our hearts set on ending the night at the Clermont Lounge, but it was apparent that we were too late (3am?!). Bummer.

Speaking of infamous Atlanta strip clubs, the Black Lips make it rain in their new video for "It Feels Alright." It was shot at Magic City (eons classier than Clermont):



---------------

And now for something a tad more wholesome, and worth listening to!:

Bob Edwards' unexpectedly splendid interview with Liz Phair, per the re-release of her 1993 album, Exile in Guyville.

& & & & & & & &

Terri Gross' interview with everyone's crush, Zooey Deschanel - on singing in the shower, singing in movies, and singing with M. Ward.

---

Happy Monday, fartknockers!

battles

It's good to feel alive again.

do it better

Once again, Lesley Arfin is my hero.


In other news, I hate kickball. I hate people who play kickball. I it when people invite me to join their kickball games on Sundays. I hate going to kickball tournaments at McCarren Park. I hate stupid kickball teams. STOP ASKING ME TO PLAY KICKBALL!

Bring on the Four-Square, turds.

the serpent and the lion

my new tat. here's the peripheral story.