My Cat is the Reincarnation of the Still Alive Halle Berry

All The Wine is All For Me

This is me, happy as can be, with my National setlist written by Aaron Dessner on a paper towel at the High Violet Annex, Friday, May 14, 2010.

Although they skipped over Abel and All The Wine because the sound quality was too poor for the louder songs, the set was incredible and something I will never forget. Front row, center to see Mr. Berninger is a dream come true for me.

Advice For the Best Job Interview of Your Life

I've had a rough morning. Yes, it's 1:30pm but that is when my afternoon begins when I don't have anything to do and it's raining too hard for a coffee run. Eventually when I get enough steam in my engines, I'll stand up, feed the cat, and brew a pot myself (coffee, not marijuana - although both would work in different ways).

My boyfriend has a job interview at William Morris/Endeavor this afternoon. Yipee! A big, snobby building full of small, snobby people that will probably turn him into a Jewish snobby jerk (not that he needs much help in that department). I understand the presitge of this agency and the excitement that comes along with even just getting the interview but what I don't understand is the facade one must put on in order to achieve said job. Why are there thousands of websites out there ready to be googled with titles like "Ten Things to Say to Get the Job of Your Dreams!" or "Shave Your Beard and Succeed at Life!" (more on that later). Young people coming up in today's industry are no longer working for people our parent's age - they're being hired by people much younger that secretly - probably - don't care if you have a beard and don't want you to say the prerequisite junk they get on every interview. My boyfriend was working directly below a 21 YEAR OLD at CBS. Do you think she even knows what a 5 'o clock shadow is? I doubt it.

If I were interviewing someone for a job, here's how it would go:

Me: How was it getting here today?
him/her: Well honestly the rain was awful and my hair would look a lot better if it weren't for that.
Me: Oh, that's fine. Messy hair is a sign of luck.
him/her: Oh yeah?
Me: Yes. Let's get on with the interview. Why do you want this position?
him/her: I really dig it. It makes me feel good to think about it and I'm ready to take on some new things, you know? I'm just excited and I like the atmosphere.
Me: Good answer. What are your hobbies?

him/her: I like music, making waffles on my waffle maker, drawing on sneakers, and sleeping.

Me: Excellent. So you're into both the performing and visual arts, cuisine, and relaxation?

him/her: Yep.

Me: Well I'm sold. You have the job. Oh, wait. Do you drink or do drugs? (trick question here)

him/her: Well I love a good margarita if  that's what you're saying.

Me: Report here on Monday!

And it's as easy as that. Throw in a comment about the cat hair on your outfit and you're as good as gold. Being real and being you is the key to life. Haven't any of you young people read a self-help book lately? Wake up from your bleary eyed dreams and get with the program. Most of the people interviewing you have just woke up from a hangover or having sex with their creepy partners. They're not focusing on you saying the right thing. What are the chances that they've always said the right thing? I'm so tired of hearing ABOUT saying the right thing!!! What does that mean? Hell, I might be terrible when I interview for a real job someday but I already sort of have a real job and have rarely been turned down from a position so I think I know what I'm talking about. I am as real as they come for better or worse. I don't have anything else up my sleeve. If you're not real and you get the job then did YOU really even get it? Or did some weirdo in a freaky Pee Wee Herman suit? I'm just confused I suppose.

Of course as we all know, beards are forbidden unless you are a homeless man (sarcasm).

Even my 23 year old boyfriend agrees about this point (as he said a little while ago). Beards aren't the hottest thing a gentleman could ever put on their bodies. They're not sexy or fashionable or handsome. Nooooo - on the contrary. They're devices to prove your ugliness and lack of motivation. If you can't pick up that razor then you can't hold a job! There is no one on earth who has a beard who also happens to be successful!!!!!!

Oh wait...

I'm on a Bloodbuzz (Ohio)

I think this photograph says it all. I'm totally obsessed and my boyfriend hates me but how can I not be? When you can sing like that and have a beard like that, there's nothing you can do to stop me from loving you.

Matt Berninger...aahh!

A Real Song About Real Things

It might be strange that I find this to be one of the most romantic songs I've ever heard but I'm a strange person. This is a great song and the lyrics are about a REAL relationship, not the fake garbage Justin Beiber wants us to believe.

Conversation 16 Lyrics by The National

I think the kids are in trouble

Do not know what all the troubles are for
Give them ice for their fevers
You're the only thing I ever want anymore
Live on coffee and flowers
Try not to worry what the weather will be
I figured out what we're missing
I tell you miserable things after you are asleep

Now we'll leave the silver city 'cause all the silver girls
Gave us black dreams
Leave the silver city 'cause all the silver girls
Everything means everything

It's a Hollywood summer
You never believe the shitty thoughts I think
Meet our friends out for dinner
When I said what I said I didn't mean anything
We belong in a movie
Try to hold it together 'til our friends are gone
We should swim in a fountain
Do not want to disappoint anyone

Now we'll leave the silver city 'cause all the silver girls
Gave us black dreams
Leave the silver city to all the silver girls
Everything means everything

I was afraid, I'd eat your brains
I was afraid, I'd eat your brains
'Cause I'm evil
'Cause I'm evil

I'm a confident liar
Had my head in the oven so you'd know where I'll be
I'll try to be more romantic
I want to believe in everything you believe
I was less than amazing
Do not know what all the troubles are for
Fall asleep in your branches
You're the only thing I ever want anymore

Now we'll leave the silver city 'cause all the silver girls
Gave us black dreams
Leave the silver city to all the silver girls
Everything means everything

I was afraid, I'd eat your brains
I was afraid, I'd eat your brains
'Cause I'm evil
'Cause I'm evil
'Cause I'm evil

Matt Berninger, I Love You.

I'm sitting here alone at 3:07am listening to The National through my headphones and thinking that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I don't know what else there is to say about this band that hasn't been said before - by me. I don't like cults but I'd gladly belong to any cult that had a gentleman with Matt Berninger's voice at the helm. This is otherworldly stuff. My words can't describe what this music is, it needs to be honored in a way my 24 year old brain can't even comprehend. I'm not worthy of this brilliant work - none of us are. I don't know how it's possible.

I'm not even drunk.

I don't know how they created this masterpiece. This is better than Tom Petty's "Wildflowers", my favorite album of all time.

For a more comprehensive review: http://musicmavens.blogspot.com/2010/05/listen-to-this-national-high-violet.html

Favorite tracks so far: Lemonworld, Conversation 16, Runaway, Anyone's Ghost, Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks .... and that's already half of the album.

On the Road Again

Sometimes I like to sit in rocking chairs in Belmar, New Jersey while my crazy cousin takes pictures of me. I'm very comfortable with the idea that my family is full of liars, losers, and weirdos. I'm just kidding about the liars part. Of course I'm quite different than that description. I enjoy scholarly pursuits like Latin American Studies and Spanish Poetry. I enjoy the irony of listening to Frank Sinatra during a 'summer wind' or Bob Dylan when all the answers are 'blowin' in the wind' right in front of me. Oh yes, I'm very funny. So funny in fact that I am deliberately looking like my twin Willie Nelson in this photograph, it's not at all accidental. I'm not just sitting around on rocking chairs looking like Willie Nelson all of the time. Best part was when a young country music fan timidly approached me after this was taken and asked for my autograph. It really happened.

No it didn't.

My relative,Willie Nelson.

My relative, Weirdo Cousin.

Who's that Lady?

I can't stop. She has so many interests and activities it's difficult for me to keep up - what with picking her up from ballet classes on Tuesday evenings to attending her piano recitals every third week of the month - phew. It's a full time job being a groupie to the coolest cat in the world.

No pun intended.

Hey Charlie, Why so Narcissistic?

Oh, that's right - because you're beautiful. You can primp and pramp all you want, Tramp!

Uncool and Uninterested

I am having such nonsense problems today.

I don't drive. Okay, that's out there.  Let me say it one more time: I DON'T DRIVE.

More than a few people are either astounding and/or disturbed by this fact. People can't understand why I'm a legal U.S. citizen and can't acquire a driver's license. It is not because I'm stupid, in fact I have never taken the driving test, and it is not because I don't have a desire to drive, when I was younger I begged my mother to let me taking driving lessons.

It is a combination of many factors the biggest being financial. I would rather spend my money on rent, utilities, clothing, and coffee than all the bills that come a long with an automobile. I am not afraid of driving, on the contrary I think I'd be a great driver, it is just that I am used to being a non-driver and therefore the prospect of becoming a driver so late in the game is foreign to me. This doesn't mean I won't do it some day but I don't know when that day will come. I feel a need to apologize for this and believe me it gets in the way of a lot of things big time but I have a tiny bit of a bank account because of this so I'm quasi-satisfied. I don't know.

Anyway, I am fortunate enough to live near campus and the university library. I take the same walk almost everyday - usually several times a day - and wonder if some of the cars driving past recognize me just through association with the street. I wonder if people I know are driving past wondering why I don't have a car and I sometimes consider the number of folks younger than me driving by probably thinking I'm a prostitute.

Today, on this beautiful nearly-summer day, with a million important things on my mind, I blocked all those important things out and focused on the aformentioned thoughts specifically. Am I un-hip? The conclusion I came to was a resounding YES - today at least. By genetics alone, I'm extremely hip. My father was a professional drummer in several bands with business cards referring to himself as "The Wolf". He had long, curly blond hair and wore tons of awesome jewelry. He collected skull things and listened to some rocking music for his time. My mom is the MASTER of music having worked at a record store for years and the warehouse of a record label back in the day. Her record collection would make any stupid hipster of today weak at the knees. She shares a birthday with Cher and has the hair to match.

All of this leads to my creation and my innate coolness. I think.

Today though I thought of the brillant Robert Downey, Jr. article I read last night in Rolling Stone. The writer mentions that on day one of the interview Downey was trying to make an impression. He had pre-planned what to say and how to interact with him. On day two, things weren't going Downey's way and his plans were screwed up - he had to show the interviewer a real glimpse into his life that included picking him up in his Audi SUV while blasting The Doobie Brothers. The writer refers to this moment in the article as Downey "not trying to be hip" or something along those lines.

Hey, writer, I like The Doobie Brothers! I recently saw them live and "What a Fool Believes" is one of my all time favorite songs (I played it at a bar one time and danced like a total maniac in front of many pairs of disapproving eyes... but that's another story). I know young people or writers for Rolling Stone don't find them cool but why the hell is a band like The Doobie Brothers being chastized in a feature article about Robert Downey, Jr.? It made me love Mr. Downey all the more - like that was necessary, the man is a God in my eyes.

ANYWAY, with this in mind, I stepped outside of myself and took a good look at me: There I am, without a car, 24 years old, walking to campus on a day when there is actually no class, listening to Eric Clapton's "I Got a Rock 'N Roll Heart" and wearing a gold elephant around my neck. I'm wearing a knit hat in 90 degree weather and a midnight blue jacket. Who am I? With my long, unkempt hair and furry eyebrows I could easily be mistaken for Willie Nelson's younger sister - or gay brother - who knows.

I always think I look like Willie Nelson. This complex has been going on since high school. I do not smoke enough pot to keep this persona up though.

Now, there is actually a sub-culture of young people who might find me cool if they knew me. The kind that hang out at bars on weeknights and think it's cool to have an extensive stash of Dave Mason vinyl but the reality is my personality is too kooky for even these people (and let's get real, most of those kinds of people are faking it anyway). I'd rather be with real people who don't share my interests than fake people who pretend to share my interests. I know there's a group of people in between but so far that's mostly been urban legends. That's why if I've met you and you like the same things as me I get way too excited. I want to be your friend instantly but most likely I won't be good at the upkeep (phone calls, hanging out, etc.). I usually would rather hang out with my cat and a cheap bottle of Pinot Grigio. It's true! Well not entirely, I really like going out but Steve does not. At all. It's a bummer.

Listen, if Ke$ha is considered cool and sandals are in, then count me out. I'd rather be uncool and uninterested.

Picture Me and You

Here are some photographs from today. We got dressed for our Broadway play, got some coffee at Au Bon Pain, and then came home and watched American Idol with homemade tacos (courtesy of Steve). He's a great cook and the last picture will show you how cute he is. I love him but sometimes we just don't get along. I know he thinks I berate him on this blog but this is just a place of honesty that maybe others can read and relate to in accord with their own relationships. I live with the guy, you know? You don't just dump a ton of money on someone you don't love.

Weird Non-Street Crossers

I was just discussing my love of Broadway a few days ago and now I'm going to see a highly anticipated Broadway musical, "Everyday Rapture", for free today. The lead actress (who also co-wrote it based on her own life), Sherie Rene Scott, just got nominated for a Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical so I'm even more excited to see it. I read an absolutely glowing review in The New York Times the other day that really peaked my interest.

Other than that, I am a little uneasy about going to Times Square today. I'm definitely a very paranoid, nervous person - a real life version of a Woody Allen character. I know that might sound obnoxious but it's a perfect description of my personality. Basically my entire family is full of absolute maniacs that should be commited. No joke. My mother wouldn't let me cross a street alone until I was somewhere deep into high school (which could account for my lack of being able to cross one today) and my cousin plays way too much bingo.

These are the kinds of people that you laugh at in films or novels but don't want to be around in real life.

No, no. I'm kidding. Well, I mean if you ask my boyfriend who was scared like a little girl when my mother, stepfather, and I all snuck up on him in the middle of the night in his car on a deserted street, you might find that he wishes he didn't know us - but of course I can always throw in his face that his dad likes scrapbooking about the oldies and his mom loves The Real Housewives of Orange County more than him.

And on that note, see you later!

An Addition to That Last One

I think I can safely say I'm a professor connoisseur. Professors are my favorite thing about college. In reference to my last post, I will say that I did indeed tell my gorgeous ex-professor that he was my favorite. I'm not sure what percentage of that was the truth and what part merely talked about my favorite professor to look at. Not that he was a bad teacher, I don't feel the need to demean him but more to express my gratitude to the BEST professor I've had. Names aren't necessary because I don't intend this post for anyone except myself. There is such a difference between a person that is doing something for a paycheck and someone that has passion and real motivation for their job. Even the best looking professor looks dead behind the eyes if they're unsatisfied (which I sneakingly believe he is) but when they have genuine consideration for their students, it is a whole different animal.

On the last day of my news writing class today, the teacher bought us pizza and gave us hugs but it wasn't in the physical aspects that I saw the most caring. It was in the sincerity of his words and how they organically brought me to tears. The emotion in his words, in his pauses, and in his voice were overwhelming to someone emotionally unstable like me. It was jarring to see a person in such a high position show his feelings in such a honest manner. It is the kind of attention and REAL FEELING that is missing from nearly everything in this artificial world. It's the kind of thing missing from even my relationship (sorry, you know it's true sometimes).

It is the reality of putting what you love in the foreground and not being afraid to speak your mind. This professor made a connection with every student in that classroom - people of all kinds - that all felt his sincerity and were moved by it. I'm completely in awe of him.

I wrote a short story one time about that other professor (the gorgeous one) where I make a character at the end say, 'You are what I want to find someday.'

Well if that's true, this other professor (the sincere one) is what I want to be someday.

That is a huge difference.

Two Crushes (My Boyfriend Knows About Both)

I'll just tell you what they are up front: The National and my professor.

There was a crazy storm just now that came out of nowhere. I was walking towards a bus stop at school when suddenly the sky turned gray, rain started fogging up my vision, and wind was trying to lift me off my feet (some of that may be an overdramatization of reality).

The closest place to find shelter was the office of my beloved ex-professor.

In a perfect world: I would've run over to the building, pulled open the door, and ran into the hallway soaking wet and shivering. My gorgeous professor would've suddenly appeared and said, "oh no, you're cold. Let me help you." He would put his arms around me and run his hands through my drenched hair. He'd offer me his jacket and say, "Come into my office. I'm sure we can take care of this..."

In reality: I just walked a little faster to the bus stop and stood under the awning thing until the bus arrived. I was miserable and it was disgusting being on top of a bunch of college students all soaked and smelly.

Luckily, I illegally downloaded the song "Lemonworld" off The National's yet-to-be-released album "High Violet" last night and it has been keeping me company all day. It is all I've listened to on repeat for the past four hours (between classes at least).

After pondering the question for many years, I still don't know what categorizes a particular song as your "favorite" or if there is a reasonable expiration date on said comment but minus the semantics, "Lemonworld" is my favorite song right now.

The lyrics are outrageous in my opinion - really beautiful and almost dead in a very real way. Matt Berninger's delivery of these lyrics is equal parts dry & dead and alive & slippery. I think this would makes sense if you heard the song.

Here's a link to the song, hopefully it works.

Lemonworld Lyrics - The National
The deepest part of the song surprisingly are the "do do do do" areas. It's the way he says it.

So happy I was invited
Give me a reason to get out of the city
See you inside watching swarms on TV
Livin' or dyin' in New York it means nothing to me
I gave my heart to the Army
The only sentimental thing I could think of
With cousins and colors and somewhere overseas
But it'll take a better war to kill a college man like me

I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find somethin' on this thing that means nothin' enough
Losin' my breath, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
Losin' my breath, doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo

This pricey stuff makes me dizzy
I guess I've always been a delicate man
Takes me a day to remember a day
I didn't mean to let it get so far out of hand
I was a comfortable kid
But I don't think about it much anymore
Lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth
And we can say that we invented a summer lovin' torture party

I'm too tired to drive anyway, anyway right now
Do you care if I stayed?
You can put on your bathing suits
And I'll try to find something on this thing that means nothin' enough

You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
I want to sit in and die
You and your sister live in a Lemonworld
Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo...

Losin' my breath
Doo doo doo doo doo doo...

Christian Camargo

I have to do something to keep myself occupied at work!

I'm looking through some old online photobuckets and came across this collection of photographs that I quite enjoy.

911: Yes? Me: There's a mysterious creature in my coat.

...but she's cute so maybe I'll keep her.

Don't you think it's strange when people are in love with their pets? Yeah, me too.

Matt Berninger

http://musicmavens.blogspot.com/2010/05/ten-things-i-love-about-matt-berninger.html