I have a massive procrastination problem

I've been procrastinating since June 29th. Two and a half months of solid distractions, excuses, and web surfing. I have found myself becoming more and more underwhelmed with the world wide web these days...wait this is really boring...and why I havent written in a while. Maybe its more a matter of becoming boring rather than procrastinating. I have nothing interesting to add here.

Here's what I'm up to:

Reading: Three Junes
Listening to: Sigur Ros - Takk, Idlewild - Promises/Warnings, Radiohead - catalogue
Hating: Crowded Union Square Whole Foods
Loving: Brooklyn

More to follow.

Oh WAIT I just remembered one thing - the Nightmare Witch who dates a man firmly hiding in the wardrobe has re-ermerged from her dark cave to try to inflict pain on her new East Coast neighbor. There will be good updates on this. Once she comes out of her own hiding she likes to inflict pain on all those who continue to hang on to her.

Things Could Be Worse: You Could Be A Dwarf

Last night, after returning from a few bevvies at the Half King I was presented with my Late Night TV choices of High School Bird-Call Champions on Letterman or the Nose Flute on Leno (not that I would actually ever watch Leno. ever.) so I turned over to PBS to find that my life could be, despite occasional suspicions to the contrary, so very much worse. I could be short. Very short. Dwarishly short.

POV was airing their special "Big Enough" about the world of Little People. It made me think, "Hey, at least I'm not a dwarf" and suddenly the prospect of a Wednesday hangover, a rewardless music-industry job, and the lingering after-effects of dating a Sociopath for two years all felt a little lighter.

If you start to feel down. Watch this. Unless, of course, you are a dwarf.

http://http://www.pbs.org/pov/pov2005/bigenough/

Cue anvil dropping on my head.

An Update for You

My job is getting in the way of my life. I have no time for all of the Max Fischer-like activities I have planned for myself. As I lamented earlier in a whinging email, why can't I just have a bottomless trust fund from which to pillage when I need things? This work thing is truly over-rated. Especially when I look at my pay check. Why didn't someone warn me the "media arts" would just lead to bankruptcy. I'd rather have gone into finance and faced the dragon head on. I mean, they might be soul-less but at least they can pay the rent. I have all this soul and no where to put it (I can't even afford the CD towers into which the soul recods belong).
Oh well.

For now, I'll listen to Bill Fay and daydream.

Be not so nervous
Be not so frail
Someone watches you
You will not fail

Be not so nervous
Be not so frail
Be not so nervous
Be not so frail

Be not so sorry
For what you have done
You must forget them now
It's done

And when you wake up
You will find that you can run
Be not so sorry
For what you have done

Be not so fearful
Be not so pale
Someone watches you
You won't leave the rails

Be not so fearful
Be not so pale
Be not so fearful
Be not so pale

You must forget them now
It's done
And when you wake up
You will find that you can run

Be not so sorry
For what you have done.

- Bill Fay : Be Not So Fearful

Mugging on the Corner

Street corner mugging (in the British sense of the word) is this a yay or a nay? I ask this because I had an awkward moment recently involving 100 beers and a street corner. I opted out of the awkwardness and into a cab but I had forgotten about this whole singles/dating thing that involves late nights, street corners and the diabolical doings of aggressive cabbies. If it's not stressful enough standing there trying to figure out your next move, or their next move, these guys are killing it all by honking and aggressively suggesting you decide to get in a cab immediately. The lingering becomes that much more transparent. And everything starts to spin a bit faster, especially if overserved. Intense. I had forgotten.

And once I remember more of last night I will report on the co-mingling of young NYAC members. It's a lot of haziness right now. Although, I do especially love the memory of one fashionista's "merci" to a Hispanic bartender. He looked at me and asked if he looked French. I told him not so much. Later, I saw the same woman in the powder room greet her friend with an 'hola'. However, she didn't look Hispanic. Too many wine spritzers must have been to blame.

To B-school or not to B-school that is the question.

On repeat this afternoon:

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea : Neutral Milk Honey

Playlist 06 10 05

This playlist is inspired by my new bf AW. I love him. I don't know if its mutual but it really should be. I will probably obsess over him here later. He is supposed to be coming into the office later today to discuss some deals. Hopefully he will find my two-shoe story amusing...I mean, he's English, I'm sure he's had much dodgier experiences. Um, but seriously, he's gorgeous! God bless those lovely English lads. Thought I was over them. But not even a little bit.

You Held The World In Your Arms : Idlewild

Simple : Beta Band

September Gurls : Big Star

Ain't No Sunshine : Bill Withers

Easy Plateau : Ryan Adams (hate him, love the song)

Bingo : M.I.A.

22: The Death Of All The Romance : The Dears

Ladyflash : The Go! Team

I wore two different shoes to work today

I'm not kidding. I had two different flip flops on this morning and was trying to decide which shade of green flip flop captured my true essence better when I must have gotten distracted, although, I don't know about what. Although, I was quite flustered trying figuring out how much to tip the doorman for installing my air conditioner. I was going to have a friend from work do it - he said it would be 'no problem' but if there was a problem and this 10,000 lb AC dropped from my highrise I might be screwed. I heard a story recently that a guy dropped his AC from his 6th story apt in the UES and after yelling 'heads up' he hid inside for 24 hours. I love this guy. A knife once slipped out of my hands while doing the dishes and fell roughly 13 floors down to the busy street below. I closed the window and watched TV until I forgot about what had happened. I have matured since this incident.

But back to the original horrifying tale, I truly left my building with two different shoes on. And I didn't notice until it was way too late. I had to take the subway and while some people might be able to soldier on through this event without really caring about what strangers might think (i.e: CRAZY LADY) I was struggling with a bad case of paranoia due to my blinding hangover from Clark's self-imposed surprise 31st birthday party at ye olde Pop Burger. I got on the last car of the 6 train and tried to hide one foot behind the other. I don't think anyone noticed at all. On the platform a young dude gave me a look over and I gave him a knowing smile suspecting he was on to me but he wasn't, which then made my smile just weird. Nothing like awkward glances on the platform. Maybe I'll look for myself on Missed Connections.

Playlist to follow.

Happy Bday Clarky

I am so insensitive

Last night, over a few bevvies at Old Town Bar (without a drunken Keifer Sutherland in sight) it was revealed to me that I was being a snob in a recent post (now edited for maximum respect). I thank my friend for his honesty and candor. And for breaking me of my classist ways.

Later he told me about a website he had viewed that day and checks frequently:

http://www.chavscum.co.uk

Elitism is so wrong.

Memorial Day Drive Playlist

All Over Me : Graham Coxon

Talk Show Host : Radiohead

NY Pie : Brakes

Why Does My Head Hurt So? : Isobel Campbell

You : Helen Merill

Folle de Toi : Home (Chiara Matroinni & Benjamin Biolay)

Jealous Guy : John Lennon

Little Discourage: Idlewild

Mirage : Midnight Movies

Take Your Momma : Scissor Sisters

Cake Shop

Last night I saw a band, The Vitamen (good name, Pavement derivative sound, not sure what the point of it is), at The Cake Shop. New venue on Ludlow next to the always so-so-but-nothing-to-write-home-about Pianos and The Living Room. SO, this place, The Cake Shop, is a bakery, a record shop and a music venue (in the basement). My reaction: Why? The bakery seems so unnecessary. I mean, maybe hipsters need pink frosting and sprinkles while contemplating the purchase of Black Flag vinyl but seriously Trying Too Hard is one of the most painful human creations. One can never be at ease in the presence of pretense. Well, anyone worth while at least.

The world should be free of: Weapons of mass destruction, light beer, Katie Couric, self importance.

WHITE IS BAD on so many levels

I thought the rule was, is, and always should be that one wears white AFTER Memorial Day. That's The Rule. It's like the Golden Rule only more essential to maintaining world order. We were brought up to raise an eyebrow if a person strayed from The Rule. In fact, laughing openly at someone wearing white trousers before the 3-day summer kickoff weekend was (and should continue to be) encouraged. And yet, I've noticed an alarming amount of white lately - without any humiliating repercussions. White skirs, trousers, cotton sweaters, shoes. NO NO NO NO. Where are the standards?!! What does this say about us as a society? And why isn't there more outrage? I have tried to roll my eyes as much as possible when in the company of such fashion-losers but I can't fight the good fight by myself. Lucky for them Memorial Day is upon us. But I really don't know when this became acceptable? Only Labor Day will tell if they will abide by the rules and put down the white for the year. (Winter whites are of course acceptable.) Perhaps all the fashion magazines are too busy stalking Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan these days to notice when the civilians are ruining perfectly good rules.