this space for rent

i've been playing a lot over on tumblr lately, and though blogger is still written into my will (they stand to inherit all of my html for dummies books), it's easier for me to set up camp in one spot.

join me in my reign of terror.

he said i could leave the glasses part showing

that annoying lawyer guy called last week to tell me he'd be in philly for business (which is code for "i'm coming out to visit you because you don't call you don't write and you probably owe me $$ [which means he was actually in town for business]).

we went to dinner at a hollywood version of an east coast city's attempt at los angeles atmosphere with mexican cuisine. we knew it was going to be a fun night when the lawyer asked the hostess what "el vez" meant, and she said that " el vez is the name of a singer performer; he's like a mexican elvis..."

and it was funny, because neither of us had to blink before we started in with "well, i didn't know he had his own restaurant!" and " who knew that el vez was good buds with stephen starr!" and the lawyer said "well i'm sure according to the lawsuit he won't be!" and we both laughed it up, and the hostess had no idea what was going on, but i might guess she won't last very long there.

or that stephen starr might need to review his training policies.

reasons i do not like dave grohl, in a five-paragraph essay.

many people enjoy the music of the foo fighters. these music fans may also believe that foo fighters lead singer dave grohl is really cool or funny. in this essay i will explain why i think dave grohl is neither.

first, dave grohl takes it upon himself to self-absorbedly direct the foo fighters music videos. these music videos often have a tone of parody or comical context. evidenced in productions like "learn to fly," "bigme," and "monkey wrench," grohl is persistent in wanting to be percieved as very funny or likable. unfortunately, he often casts himself as the protagonist in these videos ¹, and lacks the humility and/or confidence that often attracts people to main characters. i say this because the typical protagonist has an implied struggle (man vs. beast, man vs. man, man vs. technology, etc.), and in all of the foo fighters videos starring dave grohl, dave grohl is always the saving grace with all the answers, and that's just a little bit pompous. protagonists are often pompous², but dave grohl is a real life person and real life pompous people are annoying.

second, dave grohl is supposed to be a serious, introspective, prolific song writer with lots of "tats" and big leather wristbands. this classification of performing artist is usually found with evidence of depression, substance abuse, or general personal struggle³ that attributes to their artistic development. this is somewhat negated by the fact that the large majority of foo fighter songs are written in a major key. a simple yet logical understanding of major keys vs. minor keys is that major keys sound happy, and minor keys sound sad. one could conclude, then, that dave grohl lacks the depth or spectrum of emotion that produces music or any other artform that can be considered introspective or prolific.

a final point in my argument is that since the well-publicized suicide of his former band's lead singer (a band in which grohl was much better suited as the mysterious, talented drummer), grohl has become unabashed as a celebrity opportunist, consistently one-upping the celebrity and public persona alike. for example, did you, the reader, listen to led zepplin in your younger years? well, grohl not only listened to them, but he was obsessed with them and has been since he was a teenager. or perhaps you were one of the millions who enjoyed molly ringwald and her movies when you were younger? well, dave grohl would have given his left nut to be with her. did YOU proclaim that? no. no you didn't. but dave grohl did. further, grohl is known to pull public stunts to keep himself in the media. case in point: he recently announced his run for president. whether or not the article is serious, it is interesting that a rock star would choose to publish an article during a highly-anticipated presidential nomination, wherein election campaign results are often at the top of media headlines.

in conclusion, i reinforce my evidence that dave grohl is pompous, lacks artistic depth, and is an opportunist. while i do actually enjoy one foo fighters song⁴, the unattractive personality of their very intentional frontman renders him, and therefore the band, decidedly uncool and/or unfunny.

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1. While it is not uncommon for lead singers to play the protagonist in music videos, it is also very, very common for them to not play the lead in the music videos.

2. Richard III, Lisa in Weird Science, Captain from 300

3. As noted in this conversation between Elizabeth and Janie in the film Drop Dead Fred:

• Janie: I did this self actualising course this week and basically they taught us that pain is your friend, it's your humanity, pain makes you interesting. Look at Elvis.
  
• Elizabeth: Yeah, but didn't Elvis kill himself?
  
• Janie: Yes, but before that he was very, very interesting.

4. Everlong - one of their few songs in a minor key

i'll tumblr for ya

this is my bandwagon and i saved you a seat.

i don't think i'm going to install comments, so if you'd like to grow some cajones and make fun of me to my face for putting my poetry on the internet, you can do so here.

coast to coast

whatever guilt i feel from moving so far away from our family's premier offspring is subsidized by the fact that i love this little thing so much, i'm almost nervous that my sister and her husband would want to have another kid.

anything that takes away from this one being the absolute in the universe of Things That Are Good is borderline offensive in nature.

i'm off to oregon to celebrate her first year of life. chocolate cake awaits her face and her two first teeth. if you're having any sort of bad day, just watch this on repeat and know my splendor.

my bloody valentine

when i was a girl scout, i went with my troop to a nuggets game (back in the mcnichol's chapter of denver basketball sucketry), and they were beating the utah jazz so bad that i felt so sorry for the jazz because they must have been so embarrassed losing in front of all those people. so i started secretly wishing they would get some more points - and then they did. and then they won. and then i felt bad for cursing a loss on my home team. thus is my internal adolescent struggle.

on that same note, i sort of feel bad for valentine's day because everyone hates it so much. it's mass produced and capital and puts retail robotic rapping stuffed animals in pink ruffles on the shelf at rite aid, and beyond the realm of 5th grade, has the capacity to ostracize people who aren't in a (public) romantic relationship. but it sort of makes me laugh when people get so personally offended by valentine's day's existence: do they put up the same stunt on father's day if they're not a father? mother's day? veteran's day if they're not a veteran?

this is really all just a segue into an awesome story:

my dad has always been very good about sending me flowers on a valentine's day any year that i was single on the forsaken holiday, and this year i did not get flowers from my dad, presumably because i'm not. so yesterday, after a late-day trip to the eye doctor and having my eyes dilated, and having bought a new shirt (i realize it might not have been the best afternoon to do some clearance sale shopping since i couldn't see anything, but i can't ever justify shopping retail, and i found a white blouse in my size for like $15 and i was like, score, i'll wear a pretty new shirt to dinner), i was getting ready for a lovely valentine's day thai food and champagne dinner out with the new bf.

as an aside, white clothing an i have a very long-standing, special, destructive relationship.

after getting home, eyes still dilated, i'm almost ready to go and figure, listen, if i'm getting fancy, i'm getting fancy.

so i reach into the bottom drawer of my built-in loft bathroom vanity where the red nail polish stays, and set it next to me. a moment later i grab the top of the lid to shake the bottle, and must've forgotten i loosened the lid, as i sent the entire, full bottle of red nail polish summersaulting in the air - flinging a massacre of red nail polish in every direction in the room - mirror, floor, foot wall, shelf, towels...and landing back in the open drawer from which it came, sideways, spilling it's entirety onto it's contents.

mind you, i still can't see very well, but i can clearly make out that it looks like a scene from 28 days later.

i stand very still for a few moments muttering a few ohmygods (still trying not to swear), and swiftly grab the bottle of acetone and first, wash off my lacquer-covered hands as not to make matters worse. i take off the new shirt and move it to safe-keeping, and get to dousing my entire bathroom in nail polish remover (thank god for cement loft floors and veneer bathroom shelving), all while my vision is slowly returning to normal.

when it gets to a manageable, non-shock-inducing resemblance of a murder scene, i leave to get fresh air and check the new shirt, totally pre-forgiving myself if i let loose any expletives should i discover the new shirt is ruined.

alas, not one drop of red nail polish landed anywhere on the shirt. my feet? all over. my jeans? yep. the walls which will have to be sanded and repainted? all. over.

but not the new, white shirt - so i immediately pick up the phone and call one person who knows well my tenacity in ruining white cloths and telling her the story, to which she responded, "congratulations, anne. today you are a woman."

(stereo)typing 70 wpm

on some shadowed, quiet landing in the fire escapes of my reason sits a naive gijyun that operates on stereotypes.

there is a part of me that hasn't been adequately flexed that envisions people in new york all walk around with iPods and glasses of wine in their hand, laughing about how they got this really ugly pair of boots from the thrift store last weekend as an ironic addition to their new work suit, which, ironically, can double as evening wear to the secret dance party that no one knows about yet where they whisper rude things about people while they sweat in a basement, and then go home to an 800 square foot studio that house their associate director business suits and american apparel for the job they have to make their monthly $3,000 rent. also, they never smile, and they social climb so they can drink for free.

similarly, in l.a., i envision that people have sunglasses permanently surgeried to their face, because you need them even in places like the gym or the shower. and they carry rum and diet cokes every where they go, wearing obnoxious boots that hint of vintage and irony (a new trend the origins they know not of), and are all very orange, and talk about how to walk over your coworkers to get a promotion so you can buy a flat screen t.v. that's .25 inches bigger than the one you have now. also, they had their smile surgically implanted, and they social climb so they can drink for free.

in denver, snarkiness acts as currency at local bars, and you hide the fact that you got that great shirt from urban outfitters because you couldn't afford the exact same one from one of the boutiques on broadway or colfax. and you've tried several times to make "night" with some sort of "theme" but you just can't get it to take off because no one does anything fun anymore, but it doesn't matter because you're worried about other things like the redunkulous house you just bought because you're extremely educated and white, all the good bands don't skip your town anymore. also, you smile all the time because you're a hippie, and you can afford to drink so you disregard the social climbing.

in philadelphia, you make a point to participate in things, if not only to prove that you're just as good if not better than new york. and you just wish people would stop comparing you to new york. or calling you the sixth burrough of new york. or calling you new york's little brother. or wishing people would stop asking you to come up to new york all the time. you have thought about taking a job in new york, but then you wouldn't be able to live in an apartment you can afford, or make fun of the snotty kids in new york anymore. you get stabbed in the back. you smirk naturally all the time, and everyone's just as broke as you are, so free drinks don't exist.

in chicago, people in the winter are too cold to talk. in boston they're too busy reading the newspaper. seattle and portland are tied up with trying to organize a grunge renaissance, austin's already too cool for everything, atlanta is a soverign southern nation, and salt lake city just acquired a dooce, so they're set for at least another decade.

in summary, let this be the last post in which i refer to myself in the third person, and god bless the u.s.a.