IMFCKD

Would You Be My Long Time Baby?

I've been a bit hush, thus far, about Beach House's newest release "Teen Dream". The truth is I feel an odd possessiveness for Beach House. I saw them many years ago when they were touring on their eponymous album and instantly fell deeply in love. Their music fills my heart beyond the point of breaking, track by track, again and again. And still I can't get enough. This makes it hard for me to discuss the band and their music with the casual listener or the half-hearted newcomer. It's a bit of a Muriel and Seymour situation, though I somehow stand on both sides of the inequality. But the moral of the story is that the new album is incredible, though to absolutely no surprise. It makes my heart soar, and crush; leap and implode.

More Words, More Notes

This is what has filled my week: Owen Pallett and Albert Camus.

Owen Pallett's new album is almost constantly stuck in my head these days. The album, at first listen, comes off as a bit charming, which it surely is, but to leave it at this would be an insult. The story he tells of a fantastic world is made far less whimsical than the music would sometimes lead you to believe by the constant depth of Pallett's lyrics. This album is one that needs to be listened to actively so as not to only appreciate it as catchy.

This is just another reason Pallett is one of my favorites:

The Analysis of A Vector into Two Or More Vectors of Which It Is The Sum

Homographicly speaking that is...

My resolution for this year was actually made for me by a group of friends. I was told that my resolution was to be nicer to people. I amended this by saying that I would try to be nicer to people I already know. I think that's fair.

My personal resolution for the year is that I've finally decided to jump on the book-a-week bandwagon. I had this loose goal last year of reading 100 pages a day which ended in utter failure. I definitely set myself up for that one.

Thus concludes this requisite and clichéd entry.

This Is What Alone Sounds Like

I can say with conviction that there hasn't been another year like 2009. This year has shown me what it means to be isolated and I've grown from it, but I've also learned that it's fucking hard to not have emotional support. I love my friends of geographical proximity dearly, but the inability to have the immediacy of emotional comfort provided by my dearest has taught me the harsh need to be completely independent.

2009, I love you, but you can fuck off.

This Is How I Wrap It Up These Days

Today's Cryptoquote:

"To stop the flow of music would be like the stopping of time itself, incredible and inconceivable."
-Aaron Copland

I've come to the decision that I will not be compiling a Top 10 Albums list this year. For one, it's tedious and I don't feel like making the time. But more that that, I don't feel as though I've listened to enough of the music that has come out this year to make informed judgments. There are certainly a few albums that came out in '09 that I loved, but I tended to wrap myself in their familiarity rather than seek out something new and itchy that needed a few washes and wears before it was as comfortable. Stated plainly: my appetite waned.

I think this is a good thing, though. My musical drought has made me incredibly excited for the releases of next year. In the last week I've been hooked on the new singles by These New Puritans, Hot Chip, and most recently Titus Andronicus. So bring on 2010! I've had enough of this decade anyway.

(I'd like to apologize to and thank both Jon and Aaron for their diligence in sharing new music. I'm sure that in the coming months I'll go back and reap the fruits of your labor.)

Goals for the weekend:

1) Stop kidding myself.

2) Finish reading What the Dog Saw.

3) Write a new piano piece.

The Distant Days

Feeling a little distant lately. Disconnected mostly. From this place and others and people.

Feeling introspective. Spending too much time in my head. For better and worse.

Things seem to explode and implode simultaneously leaving only a ripple on the surface.

The cold has come. Bitter. Biting. Quiet.

Reason has gone. Blind silence.

I Love My Vice

An awesome Q & A with tall girls thanks to your friends at Vice.

The Happenings

1. Went on a date recently. His name is Drew. I enjoy his company. He is attractive. I am not attracted to him. I told him we can only be friends. I feel a near sense of obligation to refrain from being in a relationship because so many people around me are in such fucked up ones. Or maybe all relationships are fucked up and I'm just now realizing this.

2. Went to the beach. Nearly accidentally disemboweled myself on a rock. Have a cut running the length of my torso. No worries, my face is as beautiful as ever.

3. Dauphine's closed. Old news. Oh well.

4. Kickball has begun in its preseason incarnation. Koppa Mafia is looking to take it all this year, and not in a dirty hooker kind of way. Except maybe a little.

5. While Eric was in town I ripped the webbing between my second and third toes on my right foot. That injury is now healed.

6. The internet is boring.

This Makes Me So Happy

Makes Me Want An Amazing Chest Piece

Dual Intrigue

As of late, I have been very interested in two things:

The first, and I've been intrigued by this for awhile but have recently become a bit obsessed by it, is the way people swing their arms. It is fascinating to me. I have had for a long time a theory that you can identify gay men by the way they swing their arms (elbows in, palms forward) but of course it is only a generalization. I'm not sure if there are any studies out there on the subject (arm swinging, in general) but I would love to read them.

Secondly, I've been pondering codependence, both generally and in regard to myself. It seems so incredibly foreign to me at times. It struck me the other day that I can't really imagine myself doing "couple" things. It seems bizarre, and not to say that if just seems foreign (which it does) but there is some tinge of repulsion also in the way I feel. It's interesting.

Words of Wisdom

Fuck You, Linka

I'm so fucking sick of this wind bullshit. If it's windy today I might actually kill something.

Pieces

Today, I was about to complain to someone that I'm going to be single forever, but the words my mind conjured were "I'm going to be gay forever!" At this point I'm vastly at ease with the idea of being single for... ever... I've resigned myself to it. And while I'm also certain that I will not be, I have a hard time imagining myself actually settling down with someone. Which is not to say that I would rather whore around, I'm just completely comfortable being single and honestly feel far less neurotic when I am. Which is saying a lot, and not very much at all. And I think marriage is kind of weird.

I don't want this resignation to be misconstrued as defeat, though. Dating is not out of my control. If I wanted to date someone, I could. But I don't. Not any of these people. I seem to be encountering a lot of resignation of defeat lately. Ayn Rand is pounding into my brain that nothing is granted, everything must be earned, honesty is respect, reality can't be faked. These are all things I believe in. I know that there is an existent repulsion for Rand's works, which I'm finding hard to understand. If someone could explain it to me, I would be grateful.

I Know This Girl in Chicago (Who's Moving to Seattle Soon)...

Huh?

Middle-Aged Jewish Men Making Rap Music

It's amazing and a little bit hilarious to see the Beastie Boys perform these days.

A Want for Wanting

I've been trolling through everything I wrote last year, and a wealth of what I wrote in years prior as a source of inspiration for what I'm writing now and what I've found is, despite the fact that I am writing, I miss writing. I have this insatiable hunger for wordsmithing. Writing lyrics is always an interesting endeavor. I find myself having to over-think everything, over-write everything, and then I pare it all down, simplify the themes, etc... It's hard to not get lost in metaphor and symbolism.

I Should Stop Thinking

A couple minutes ago I started trying to analyze why I do the things I do. It took about three seconds to come to the conclusion that everything I do is completely irrational. Is anything rational? I'm starting to think my entire life, and possibly everyone's life, is one big hyper-obsessive, delusional power play.

Quick Thought

I thought briefly today about the idea of settling down and falling in love. The intriguing part of this contemplation was that I considered that the whole ordeal could be a result of the aging process, the actual breakdown of our DNA, the first glimmer of senility.