I will preface this post with an admittance of my technological ignorance. I would really love to provide a link for you guys to go immediately listen to some of the songs that I'm going to be listing, but I have no idea how to do so. I've seen it done on other blogs (Jockohomo comes to mind) but for now I'll just have to link you to their MySpace pages (where most of them have their songs up to be played).
Anyway, below is a list of fun or groovy music that I am totally lovin right now...I insist that you listen to at least one or two of them...
Datarock- Fa-Fa-Fa
-If this song doesn't get your toes tapping, then you probably have sciatica or something.
" - I Used To Dance With My Daddy
-Lotsa fun, maybe because I just dig the title...;o)
Bird and The Bee- Fucking Boyfriend
-Their sound I would describe as "the unholy love child of Nellie McKay and Morcheeba".
Spandau Ballet- The Freeze
-They were so ahead of their time that I think they borrowed Doc Brown's Delorean.
Editors- Bones
-Quite possibly my favorite group that's come out within the last few years that sound like Echo and The Bunnymen updated.
Maroon 5- If I Never See Your Face Again
-Yeah, I know, but it's actually a good song.
The Bravery- Believe
-Throwback new wave retro futuristic...or something.
Arctic Monkeys- Fluorescent Adolescent
-Another of my favorite new groups that somehow manage to work their cockney accents into their singing.
Interpol- The Heinrich Maneuver
-What Micheal Stipe would sound like if you gave him some testosterone injections...no, I mean the kind with a needle...I think he gets the other kind already....
LCD Soundsystem- Someone Great
-This song makes John dance around the house like a big dork, so it's a winner in my book.
Boy Kill Boy- Suzie
-If you pull up next to me at a stop light and see me singing my little heart out and playing drums on the steering wheel, it's most likely this on the stereo.
Yeah, I know...it's a bit of a mish-mash, but them's my music tastes....
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Awwww.....
John opened our back door yesterday to throw out the recycles, and nearly knocked this poor baby (or at least younger) pigeon off the railing that accompanies our stairs. He kept saying that it was a dove, most likely because I always say how I think pigeons are rats with wings.
Anyway, the poor thing wouldn't even move when we were right next to it and shaking the rail by going down the stairs. Later, John looked out the window and saw its mother sitting on the rail next to it. I was afraid it might have been hurt, but when we checked this morning it was gone.
Weird...but at least it let me get close enough to get a few pictures...
Anyway, the poor thing wouldn't even move when we were right next to it and shaking the rail by going down the stairs. Later, John looked out the window and saw its mother sitting on the rail next to it. I was afraid it might have been hurt, but when we checked this morning it was gone.
Weird...but at least it let me get close enough to get a few pictures...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Holy unexpected weight loss, Batman!
Well, I'm not sure that going to La Parilla Suiza and pigging out on chips, salsa, and fajitas is really the answer...but that's what I just got through with doing. I ate so much that my stomach hurts...and is growling in really weird ways at me. We'll leave it at that, so I don't go into any ugly details that might scare my more delicate readers.
Today, overall, has been my total pig-out day. Earlier today John and I went to Gandhi Indian buffet and (you guessed it) pigged out. I went back for seconds when I really shouldn't have even had such a large first plate.
So why, you may rightfully ask, do I feel obliged to over-eat in such a totally unnecessary way? Because the other morning I hopped my happy ass on the scale in the bathroom and it told me in very uncertain terms that I-without the assistance of a towel or any clothes-weighed 185 lbs. Which isn't so bad until you consider that just a few months ago I weighed 205.
While most people would be thrilled at losing twenty pounds randomly, I'm one of those silly meat-head weightlifter guys who prefers to tip the scales with my, like, pumped-up-ness. But I guess that doing a fairly physical job out in the 100+ heat every day, coupled with not eating like I ought to lately (because, frankly, who has a mega-appetite in the sweltering heat?) can lead to...uh...shrinkage.
Oh well, at least my pants fit a little better at the moment...
Today, overall, has been my total pig-out day. Earlier today John and I went to Gandhi Indian buffet and (you guessed it) pigged out. I went back for seconds when I really shouldn't have even had such a large first plate.
So why, you may rightfully ask, do I feel obliged to over-eat in such a totally unnecessary way? Because the other morning I hopped my happy ass on the scale in the bathroom and it told me in very uncertain terms that I-without the assistance of a towel or any clothes-weighed 185 lbs. Which isn't so bad until you consider that just a few months ago I weighed 205.
While most people would be thrilled at losing twenty pounds randomly, I'm one of those silly meat-head weightlifter guys who prefers to tip the scales with my, like, pumped-up-ness. But I guess that doing a fairly physical job out in the 100+ heat every day, coupled with not eating like I ought to lately (because, frankly, who has a mega-appetite in the sweltering heat?) can lead to...uh...shrinkage.
Oh well, at least my pants fit a little better at the moment...
Friday, June 15, 2007
My boyfriend's back, and we're gonna start some trouble...
YAY! After being gone for nearly three weeks, my adorable little hubby-bear is finally back home! He left first to go to IML with me, and then from there we both headed on to St. Louis to visit with his brother and family.
I flew home so I could work...he stayed there for about another week. I came up to visit one more time...and we all went (including our 4 & 5 year-old nieces) to Six Flags to ride the spin 'n' pukes. I think our favorite ride was the Superman...which takes you up a good number of stories...and just drops you. Our least favorite was The Boss (a.k.a. "Shaken Baby Syndrome for Adults"). Which is an old-school wooden roller coaster with all the gentle smoothness of driving down a cobblestone street at 80mph.
Then, after I came back home again (for work) he flew down to Florida to visit with his folks. While he was down there, he got to see the shuttle launch and managed to buy a car to drive home. And then he made the three day drive to get home, and made it back home Wednesday night!
The best part is that I managed to get the house all nice and pretty so that it at least doesn't look like I live in squalor while he's gone.
And I even had time to make him a dorky little something on photoshop documenting his adventure (ala Family Circle...sort of)
I flew home so I could work...he stayed there for about another week. I came up to visit one more time...and we all went (including our 4 & 5 year-old nieces) to Six Flags to ride the spin 'n' pukes. I think our favorite ride was the Superman...which takes you up a good number of stories...and just drops you. Our least favorite was The Boss (a.k.a. "Shaken Baby Syndrome for Adults"). Which is an old-school wooden roller coaster with all the gentle smoothness of driving down a cobblestone street at 80mph.
Then, after I came back home again (for work) he flew down to Florida to visit with his folks. While he was down there, he got to see the shuttle launch and managed to buy a car to drive home. And then he made the three day drive to get home, and made it back home Wednesday night!
The best part is that I managed to get the house all nice and pretty so that it at least doesn't look like I live in squalor while he's gone.
And I even had time to make him a dorky little something on photoshop documenting his adventure (ala Family Circle...sort of)
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Doctor, my eyes...
So I went to the optometrist a few days ago for my annual contacts exam. Which, to me, always seemed like a pretty good racket they've got going in the profession. You need contacts and/or glasses to be able to see (especially if you're as blind as I am)...but in order to get them you must get an exam every year.
So that means that when you go to buy more once you've run out, and it just so happens to be past the anniversary of your last exam, you are told that you can't have any pudding until you eat your meat. But in this case the meat is a $100 update (even with insurance) to tell you just how vision-impaired you really are. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not really sure that my eyes change that much over the course of one year.
But I digress...I now have health insurance that includes vision stuff, so I found myself a new eye doctor out of the insurance listing via a very rigorous method of determining geographical convenience. Yeah...laziness, I know...but the only other thing I had to base it on was the person's name and gender.
So I wound up with a male doctor who is very nice, very thorough, and just a little odd. He's one of those people that sort of goes off on his own mumbling, verbal tangent about stuff, seemingly forgetting that a person who is receiving an exam from him is sitting right there. But it's all totally harmless stuff that, admittedly, I brought about by trying to make small talk.
He did, however, make several comments about how "beautifully healthy" my eyes looked. And one comment about how the "wonderful brown" of my eyes matched my "sultry, olive skin". Now, I really don't think that he's family, though he could be, or that he was making a pass at me, cause he just didn't seem the type...I really think that he's more of one of those un-self-conscious "the world is a beautiful place full of wonder, and I'm gonna say so, damn the consequences" type of people. He's a big time hiker and photographer in his 50s who very obviously has a former hippy side.
Then again, I did put my male significant other (John) down as my emergency contact person in my records...which I'm sure he saw before coming in to meet me...so who knows?
So that means that when you go to buy more once you've run out, and it just so happens to be past the anniversary of your last exam, you are told that you can't have any pudding until you eat your meat. But in this case the meat is a $100 update (even with insurance) to tell you just how vision-impaired you really are. Maybe it's just me, but I'm not really sure that my eyes change that much over the course of one year.
But I digress...I now have health insurance that includes vision stuff, so I found myself a new eye doctor out of the insurance listing via a very rigorous method of determining geographical convenience. Yeah...laziness, I know...but the only other thing I had to base it on was the person's name and gender.
So I wound up with a male doctor who is very nice, very thorough, and just a little odd. He's one of those people that sort of goes off on his own mumbling, verbal tangent about stuff, seemingly forgetting that a person who is receiving an exam from him is sitting right there. But it's all totally harmless stuff that, admittedly, I brought about by trying to make small talk.
He did, however, make several comments about how "beautifully healthy" my eyes looked. And one comment about how the "wonderful brown" of my eyes matched my "sultry, olive skin". Now, I really don't think that he's family, though he could be, or that he was making a pass at me, cause he just didn't seem the type...I really think that he's more of one of those un-self-conscious "the world is a beautiful place full of wonder, and I'm gonna say so, damn the consequences" type of people. He's a big time hiker and photographer in his 50s who very obviously has a former hippy side.
Then again, I did put my male significant other (John) down as my emergency contact person in my records...which I'm sure he saw before coming in to meet me...so who knows?
Friday, June 8, 2007
Ok, so I'm a public radio whore
As if listening to NPR constantly didn't make me a big enough dork, an online buddy introduced me the other day to a Seattle area non-profit (yes, they beg you for money to stay on the air) radio station that webcasts live. KEXP plays a pretty good mix of stuff, alot of which is indie-rock oriented. And any station that plays stuff like Interpol, Sonic Youth, and Chemical Brothers along side a bunch of stuff I've never heard of (but love) is ok in my book.
They're in the middle of a pledge-drive right now, which can be annoying sometimes, but I still encourage you to tune in and give em a listen if you dig the non-commercial non-payola non-crappy radio experience.
They're in the middle of a pledge-drive right now, which can be annoying sometimes, but I still encourage you to tune in and give em a listen if you dig the non-commercial non-payola non-crappy radio experience.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
IML...what DOES it stand for?
So I just got back from our trip to Chicago for IML the other day...and I got to thinking about how I really need to schedule more time in my life for travel! Because 3 trips out of town in the month of May alone isn't nearly enough...
We managed to wind up with a pretty sweet...and inexpensive...deal for the weekend. John did some research, and found out that one could volunteer for the events. Thus providing an interesting insider's point of view, and getting us into all of the events and parties entirely free! Also we wound up staying in the apartment of a friend of John's brother...who was out of town for the weekend. I know, life of Riley, right?
We were also fortunate enough to be joined on our voyage by Scotty, who was quite the trooper despite having a cough that would put a seal to shame. Though it wasn't entirely his scene per-say, he did his level best to enjoy himself...and even went so far as to buy on or two souvenirs by the end of it all.
The best part about the apartment stay was that we (ok, I) would trot into the elevator wearing something slutty like a leather vest with no shirt, and on the way down from floor 33 the elevator would stop every now and again...and in would wander average Joes and Janes, who would take one look at us and promptly press the "close door" button repeatedly...then look at the front of the elevator only until the doors opened to the lobby.
Needless to say, fun was had by all. And there were more curious and startling outfits than at a Janet Jackson concert. Slaves, masters, daddies, boys, pigs, bears, puppies, twinks, (and a few more classifications that I'm sure I'm missing), mingled and ogled and groped. Oh, and some guy from LA got a pretty sash.
When I was talking to a guy online about it all the other day I said I'd gone to IML...not knowing what it stood for he guessed "International Male Liberation?"
Thinking about all the collars, handcuffs, and restraints I'd seen that weekend, I said "Uh...I think just the opoosite...depending on who you ask."
We managed to wind up with a pretty sweet...and inexpensive...deal for the weekend. John did some research, and found out that one could volunteer for the events. Thus providing an interesting insider's point of view, and getting us into all of the events and parties entirely free! Also we wound up staying in the apartment of a friend of John's brother...who was out of town for the weekend. I know, life of Riley, right?
We were also fortunate enough to be joined on our voyage by Scotty, who was quite the trooper despite having a cough that would put a seal to shame. Though it wasn't entirely his scene per-say, he did his level best to enjoy himself...and even went so far as to buy on or two souvenirs by the end of it all.
The best part about the apartment stay was that we (ok, I) would trot into the elevator wearing something slutty like a leather vest with no shirt, and on the way down from floor 33 the elevator would stop every now and again...and in would wander average Joes and Janes, who would take one look at us and promptly press the "close door" button repeatedly...then look at the front of the elevator only until the doors opened to the lobby.
Needless to say, fun was had by all. And there were more curious and startling outfits than at a Janet Jackson concert. Slaves, masters, daddies, boys, pigs, bears, puppies, twinks, (and a few more classifications that I'm sure I'm missing), mingled and ogled and groped. Oh, and some guy from LA got a pretty sash.
When I was talking to a guy online about it all the other day I said I'd gone to IML...not knowing what it stood for he guessed "International Male Liberation?"
Thinking about all the collars, handcuffs, and restraints I'd seen that weekend, I said "Uh...I think just the opoosite...depending on who you ask."
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