Writing Novel #4 starting at midnight tonight.

Apologies in advance for mediocre blog entries that may ensue.

P.S. I’ve been listening to This American Life this week during the day and I leave work feeling like the smartest, most cultured person in NYC (even if it only lasts for a minute)

H. Halloween.

I’ve been watching a lot of videos on the site with babies. My ‘rents were the proud owners of a camcorder and brought it out on holiday occasions (until we, the kids, spawned our own siege and took it to film now hilaaaaarious spoofs in the basement), but wow. Parents love the digital cameras and the posting on websites and things of this nature.

So here is the point of my post. Said parents speak at such a high, squeaky frequency that I don’t question the babies’ apprehension to speak sooner. I fully intend, gentle readers, to speak to my children, should I ever have any with my charming husband, could I put any more commas in this sentence?

Take two. I fully intend to speak to my children in a normal frequency when they are born (occasional squeaks are inherent and absolutely necessary) in both English and French.

Whether or not this comes to fruition remains to be seen and may occur . . . with any luck, several years from now, as I am not currently equipped to feed a child (unless it likes cupcakes and coffee, my steady diet) or bathe a child (unless it likes Pantene Red Expressions, which it probably will because it smells soooo good) or even to take care of a child ( . . . I need to take advantage of Netflix in my early twenties, please).

Oui.

(I wonder if this is the same R.L. Stine who grew up in my home state and wrote Goosebumps books . . . )

It makes sense now that I would grow up to be a
picky, smug and referential individual because I went as Ariel (as a
bride! not the mermaid!) for Halloween when I was in kindergarten.

Anyway, I can think of two good costumes off the top of my head.

In fourth grade, I was a picnic, which meant I wore a sort of smock-type deal with a picnic print (and fabric ants) and plates, utensils, cardboard food boxes, the whole nine yards. I looked sweet.

In fifth grade, we had a parade through the school wherein everyone showed off his or her costume, and my guidance counselor, who was very patronizing and sort of an idiot, asked if I was a “grown-up lady” because I was wearing my mom’s sportcoat, matching skirt and some fashionable mules. You see, darlings, our fair nation was fascinated by the OJ Simpson trial, so per my mom’s suggestion, I went as Marcia Clark, the trial prosecutor and choice hottie. So no, I was not a grown-up lady. Objection.

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On a side note, after a brief Starbucks hiatus, I’m back on the midnight train to Seattle and am eagerly awaiting the return of red cups and the absolutely fantastic peppermint hot chocolates.

Say what you want about Britney Spears, but when it comes to her new CD, she hardly sounds like the trainwreck we’ve seen in the tabloids throughout the past year.

Starting this morning (not that I was refreshing the page at 10:02 wondering when they would put it online), VH1 is offering a stream of the whole CD, and I feel like everyone should listen to it at least once to officially judge it and her current stance. Not every song is perfect, but the overall feel is consistent and unlike her past two haphazard albums – that is, without coherence between tracks. My favorites so far are the back-to-back songs Hot As Ice and Ooh Ooh Baby.

And while it’s easy to say that it’s not really her – it’s ProTools – on the whole album or that she’s overprocessed and doesn’t really have any creative control over what she does, there’s a noticeable difference in the music presented. Whereas the previous vocals sounded forced and out of range, it seems as though Miss Brit actually (gasp) lets go this time around. “Brit lets her hair down” would be another way to put it, but there’s not much to let down right now . . .

Listening this morning also made me think about how we perceive artists (some people are going to argue that she’s not actually an artist, but bear with me) inside and outside of their work. I love Woody Allen’s films, and anytime I mention work he’s been involved in, the conversation inevitably veers toward his admittedly odd family life. Does Annie Hall have anything to do with Soon-Yi? No . . .

But do you consider an artist’s full “self” when you take in what they offer? Should you?

this is what I did this past weekend. it’s good to be home but I had a blast in Boston – we walked 11 miles on Saturday and I’m still recovering.

1. Must we use Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” in every commercial, trailer and movie? I get it – it’s an upbeat, positive song about your future being bright and life being absolutely wunderbar. But, really, when you’re hawking shampoo, “Because I Said So” and various “yeah go women!!!!!!!!!” products, it loses its magic. FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN, GIRLFRIENDS, AND MAKE SURE YOU MOISTURIZE!

2. John Cusack, you are Lloyd Dobler, not the go-to guy for dry romantic comedies! You held a boombox outside Ione Skye’s pretend bedroom! Come on. Turn down more scripts – please.

3. I want to be on Top Model. Really. Every episode makes me want to be on the silly show even more. I feel like the way they shoot it makes it seem like you really can’t teach modeling and that you just have to figure it out . . . I could totally do that. Also, I am not afraid of heights, small spaces, large bugs and anything else they might throw at me. Howev, upon doing some research on the CW’s site, it appears as though people applying for the show need a crazy backstory that will make for emotional meltdowns, and consequently, good television. Um, one time I cracked my head open on a glass table – does that count?

3b. Attention, Top Model casting people: I am almost 5’10″ – six feet and change in heels, am not here to make friends, have red hair, want to sass Tyra Banks and do not have an eating disorder. Let’s talk.

4. Last night around 12:30, I figured out how to beat the system (read: not pay $2.99 for a ringtone) and am now in the arduous but worthwhile process of setting ringtones for fun people in my life who merit having personalized songs. What would you want your ringtone to be if you called me?

5. The Today Show is so ridiculously bad, but it’s what gets me up in the morning, and there is nothing I enjoy more than sitting in bed with my instant coffee while rolling my eyes at Ann Curry’s heartwrenching stories of woe . . . then, coming up after the next commercial break, how to use Pam in 14 different ways! It’s a sort of ridiculous schizophrenia as far as headlines are concerned, and I like it.

are you ready for The Office tonight? I am.

Oh hey.

Five things that have occurred since my last entry:

1. One of my BFFs has started a job at a Columbus nonprofit after a frustrating summer with leads, ‘kay-sorry-never-minds and a rollicking job with Don Pablo’s. Yay Andy! The one downside (in my opinion) is that he can’t even wear khakis – dress pants every day? Gross. Xanga Teamers are lucky. I’m currently sporting a v. fashionable $2 pair of flip-flops from Old Navy – which I plan to wear until it snows, and even then, I like my toes chilly, thanks – as well as jeans, a t-shirt and a sweater-shrug thingy from Target. Biz cas, please.

2. Britney has gone in and out of jail. God bless that. This is because of her hit-and-run incident earlier this fall . . . it amazes me that not only do law enforcement officials show some sort of unconditional forgiveness to celebs, but so do I if it’s someone I really like. If any of my friends had their kids taken away, wore skirts as dresses and fired their management teams ( . . . I ‘spose friends could have a management team if they were a really big deal), I’d think twice about associating with them, but for whatever reason, I still feel for Brit.

3. I went home (Ohio!) for the weekend and spent time with my BFFs, the fam, the dog, a former professor and Bob Dylan, in that order. Matt picked me up at the airport and we went to OU, our alma mater, for a quick hello to some friends and dinner and coffee with a wonderful man who taught us about irony last year in class. I got to spend time with my family and meet my nephew (awwwww), see a movie (Michael Clayton was excellent, so go see it), go to an incredible concert and generally enjoy Columbus. I realized that I like being on my own but that I do miss a lot of things about being in the ‘bus. Driving is a blast when you haven’t done it for two months and change.

4. Sunday was fun because it was like I was leading a double-life and/or living in two places at once – not only did the guy at a Columbus Caribou (which I had four times this weekend, thank you very much) recognize me and know that I liked my lattes foamy and with a little extra espresso, but Bagel Lady in New Jersey knew that my regular order stood and that I would like a cinnamon raisin bagel plain. That’s just weird.

5. I was last.fming yesterday at work (add me as a friend!) and realized that I do not really care for bands/musicians that have been regaled as “classic rock” – Pink Floyd, the Stones, Bruce Springsteen . . . give me Motown and upbeat piano rock (and teen pop and prog rock and nerd rock and 5/4 minstrel songs with oboe runs) any day, plzkthx.

I love the quote, “You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”

My desk is equipped with a club.

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Are you guys watching Friday Night Lights? I know critics say that it’s the best show you’re not watching, blah blah blah, but my BFFs from home clued me in and I’ve been watching all.weekend.long . . . I’m about 10 episodes in so far and am hooked. I was in band all through high school and college and couldn’t have cared less about football, but the show gives you a different perspective on what other people think about the sport.

It’s about so much more than the sport, though, and the way it’s done is increeeeedible.

Oh yeah, and it’s $15 for the first season at Best Buy. That’s 3 mocha frappuccinos, 7 cupcakes or 22 hours of excellence – plus bonus features I haven’t checked out yet in fear of being spoiled.

GO WATCH.

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And if you *do* watch it already, message me if you want to talk about how annoying Lyla is or how Matt deserves a medal.

Whenever I’ve downloaded music and want to be able to listen to it on the train . . . but I don’t have an iPod. Viva la Rio Karma!

Last five:
1. Oh My God – Mark Ronson feat. Lily Allen (thought I had it on the mpthriz already . . . hmm)
2. Be Careful What You Pack – They Might Be Giants (made me bawl the night before I left for NYC for good)
3. Old To Begin – Pavement (not their best but I can deal)
4. This Girl That I Know – Beck (for gettin’ my proverbial groove on)
5. Chang! Chang! Chang! – Thai Elephant Orchestra (funniest song I’ve ever heard – they recorded elephants making noises/”music” and this combines their music with beautiful childrens’ voices)
  
YEAH ROCK AND ROLL! m/ [>.<] m/

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P.S. I just sent out an email in Italian to someone who wanted to know when Xanga would be translated en italiano - I hope the translation I got from Babelfish was okay and that it’s not, like, “I WISH TO EAT YOUR CHILDREN” or some other such fun.