we're all we've got and we don't want to be alone

from thursday's new york times, an article on/interview with weezer's rivers cuomo:

"...I'm not much of a 'misser' in general. I love whatever I'm doing at the moment and completely forget what I was doing before."

that's beautiful. i'm not going to be a misser anymore.

weezer . no other one


this is beginning to hurt

it's so easy to say 'i hate this, i hate that, i hate that.'

in the indie rock community, it's so uncool to like anything remotely mainstream.

in politics, it's so easy to discredit anything the republicans want to do.

in life, it's so easy to discount others' opinions because they're different than your own.

i'm pretty cynical by nature. i've got a husband who lets this attitude fester, and i think we've even convinced ourselves that we're pretty funny while we're doing it. sometimes we are, but sometimes maybe it's just a crutch.

i really dislike the concept of valentine's day. i've always said i do, anyway. but what's there to hate, really? sure, it's alot of pressure, but instead of putting all my energy towards bitching about what a pointless holiday it is (and the fact that it isn't really a HOLIDAY since you don't get the day off work and wouldn't that make the whole thing more bearable for everyone?), maybe i should put my energy towards telling the people i care about just how much i care about them. it might just bring a tiny piece of joy to my little shriveled heart. or maybe it would just make me gag.

weezer . getchoo


tonight I'm begging you please

for the last few years, i've made it a sunday ritual to check the wedding announcements in my hometown newspaper, the el dorado news times. this illustrious publication is available online (how very modern of you, el dorado), though you have to pay something outrageous like $60/year to actually view it at a readable resolution, unless you subscribe to the REAL newspaper, which i clearly don't. instead, i flip to page 18 online (somehow, it always starts on page 18), look at the pictures, and squint to try to see if i know any of the people. i'm not really sure why i do this. it's not like i CARE, and i didn't even bother to send in MY OWN wedding announcement (though you better believe i've thought about sending it in this year sometime in May saying that we were married on May 6 and just neglect to mention that it was in 2004, not 2006).

a few months ago, a friend got me hooked on the new york times sunday wedding announcements. i can't even begin to describe how much joy these bring me. i can't make it through a single one without coffee coming out of my nose from laughing so hard. they're a fabulous mix of parental boasting (even when the children are losers - though most of the time they fall into the category of ivy-league grads. which doesn't mean they aren't also losers) and obscene pretentiousness. love it, love it, love it.

if you happen to find the times wedding announcements as funny as i, you'll love this site - veiled conceit, which bills itself as "a glimpse into that haven of superficial, pretentious, pseudo-aristocratic vanity: the ny times' wedding & celebration announcements"

weezer . tired of sex


morning comes in paradise, morning comes in light

i've always had these grand visions for myself. when i was young, i was going to be an olympian. standing in my front yard, practicing my backhand-springs (or flip-flops, as i normally call them), i had visions of a crowd erupting upon sticking a perfect landing. later, when i was a little more accomplished, i was watching an olympian do a pass with a flip-flop, flip-flop, back (also called a back-whipback - a backhandspring without hands. different from a back tuck), flip-flop, flip-flop, back. i immediately thought 'hey, i can do that,' and i proceeded to make my mom follow me outside in the dark to see if i could. i stuck it the first time.

i never really appreciated how much of my parent's very limited resources they put into my activities. from gymnastics to cheerleading to soccer to track to blah to blah. i always assumed the money would be there. and that i was somehow entitled to it. when i was in the 10th grade i applied to a summer chemistry program at columbia, without really telling my parents. i was exploding with excitement when i got the acceptance letter. i'd be able to spend 6 weeks living in nyc (i'd, of course, never been there), studying chemistry, getting me one step closer to my dream of attending an ivy-league school. i'll never forget the disappointment when we got the bill for $7,000, and my parents said we couldn't afford it. and i knew it was true.

same thing happened when i applied to colleges. choice A with tuition i could never afford or choice B which would pay me to go there. i picked choice B. i ended up loving it, but that twinge of regret is still there.

i've always prided myself in my ability to DO STUFF. most days i really feel like there's nothing i can't do, if i really want to do it. but other days i look at where i am now, and i have a fuzzy picture of where i want to be in the future, but it's just going to take SO LONG to get there. it feels like a massive transition period, but, really, isn't that what life is? when i reach the top, i'm sure i'll just be reaching for more. it's not healthy to say 'i'll be happy when...,' but it's really hard not to.

sufjan stevens . for the widows in paradise, for the fatherless in ypsilanti


you look like a newlywed

back in october, i posted how i'd resolved to get back in shape. 3 months later, i can safely say that i'm on my way. to me, being in shape has nothing to do with weight, so we're not going to talk about that here. being in shape is more a state of mind, a state of being, a LIFESTYLE, if you will. it involves regularly going to the gym or doing physical activity, eating well, and not drinking coca-cola. 2 out of 3 ain't bad, folks.

back in october, i was still frustrated because my ankle wouldn't allow for a complete immersion in fitness. i've always been ultra-competitive, and believe me, i'm the MOST competitive with myself. the notion of 'taking it slow' or 'taking it easy' means absolutely nothing to me. i push myself harder than anyone else could push me, and i'm the hardest on myself. i would get mad, i mean MAD, when i would run a short distance only to have my ankle shoot pain up the side of my calve. poor michael had to live with this for a whole year.

sometime in december i began to make rapid progress. what started as slow one mile runs progressed into slow two mile runs and by january i'd clocked a couple of 5+ mile runs. my ankle is still consistently sore, but it's reaching the point where i'm considering not having a third surgery this summer to remove the remaining three screws (by the way, people, they're SCREWS. not pins. so stop calling them pins. there's a big difference). but we'll see.

also, in january, i joined a gym to take yoga classes. our apartment building has a gym, but it's cheaper to join a gym and take yoga than it is to just take yoga classes (and believe me, that isn't exactly cheap). so now i'm taking yoga two-to-three days a week (plus a bonus pilates class or two), and i'm practically living at the gym.

it feels fantastic.

wolf parade . grounds for divorce