Miami Horror

Their music videos are quite interesting to watch. Love this electro-pop group from Melbourne. They've got a disco style to their jams too!


"Sometimes"


"Holidays"


"I Look to You" (love/want this bitch's dress by the way)

Lose Yourself & Smile

This makes me love her more...


T-Swift covers "Lose Yourself" & "Smile"

So now that Shark Week is over...

My roomie Gi put an amazing video on my wall last week. Made me chuckle...a lot actually. I think Jenna Marbles and I would make a great duo - a tag-team of bitches that can make anyone pee in seconds with our crass and honest opinions on all things. Although I am a viewer of the celebrated week in August, I can't help but agree with Ms. Marbles on such a topic...


Jenna Marbles - Thoughts on Shark Week

Did I ever tell you about that one time...

 1. I totaled my car a few weeks ago and had to get a new one?
This sucked. Like beyonddd sucked #balls. Basically, I was on my way to the gym early one Thursday morning. No traffic, quiet streets, the sun was peakin' out all the while I absentmindedly go through an intersection and a 2009 Toyota decides to introduce itself to my car by hitting it. It was my first accident I've gotten into. Not a great way to start my day. Ended up not going into work, dealing with insurance companies, getting a rental, crying, freaking out about insurance premiums & just basically beating myself up about making a huge error in judgement - not even judgement, but lack of attention. After much deliberation with the parentals and test-driving of vehicles (that took place ALLLLL day today), we decided to go with a 2011 Subaru Impreza hatchback nugget. I preferred red but they didn't have it but the silver is growing on me. It's all-wheel drive so hopefully it'll get me through New York winters with ease. I'm gonna miss Sheila. Her and I had an intense relationship but I don't think she liked the way I drove her compared to when my mom had her. We'll see what Wally thinks of me. Welcome to the family, Wally.

Bye Sheila

Hello Wally

2. I went to Butter a few Saturdays ago and got shit faced plastered and puked outside the window of my friend's backseat?
Yeah, well that happened. Bubba's friend came into town from Boston to visit her and we went with our promoter friend (the one who FAILED to get us into Lavo when Calvin Harris & Beyonce & Jay-Z were there) to Butter. Epic night; didn't realize that much vodka fueled my insides to the point where it wanted to escape the same way it went in. It was great how when we arrived, the downstairs was still in semi-dinner mode but around 1230am it got bustlin' and people were not sitting in the lovely semi-circle dinner booths but rather standing on them raging. My outfit was pretty sick too - leopard-print mini skirt from Urban Outfitters, a black cropped graphic tee from Pacsun and my new Steve Madden wedges with some sex wave hair. Our guy friends met up with us around 145am and we all danced and fist-pumped until 3ish when our friend offered to drive us home - they drove in. Oh, and what was also great was on our way into the city we took the train and the conductor clearly looked at me and didn't even take my ticket! Awesome! And since our friend drove us back to New Gross, I didn't need to use my ticket. Great way to save some dough. But I ended up getting sick, passing out in my bathroom and not realizing how I got into my bed the next morning. My lovely roommate from downstairs who not only drove us all back home took me outta the bathroom and put me to bed. The next morning I was welcomed with THE worst hangover of the summer.

3. I went to the Hamptons to visit my Boobalah, celebrated Christmas in July, and got thrown up on in a cab by a good friend?
This happened last Saturday. MK and I went to West Hampton Beach to visit Katie who was babysitting for a family she's been working for during the school year. They had a house out there and the dad was involved in a few business ventures out that way - bars in fact. This meant that since MK and I were visiting and Katie wouldn't have to be babysitting that night, we would be going out to one of his places having a great time with lots of free alcohol. It was also Katie's last weekend out there so it was critical for her to experience The Drift Inn. It was an outdoor/indoor beach bar with lots of space to dance and fist-pump and experience the less humid summer air along Dune Road. Not only did we get chauffeured by a bouncer to The Drift, but we also got to walk right past the long-azz line outside. #VIPstatus #holla. Characters like Jesus, Santa Claus, and a Christmas tree were behind the main outdoor bar pouring shots and serving ice cold cans of Bud Light. We were served a many a shot and drink fo' free. Katie's boss told Jesus to take care of us. God Bless him :) But the free booze served to be too much for MK considering on the cab ride home, she threw up on my arm. Yeah, that happened. We were forced to trek the rest of the way home, luckily it was only a ten minute walk/stumble/dropped-MK-a-few-times/laughed-during-a-pee-break/struggle back to the residence we were staying at. Aside from being vomited on and dodging a $125 fine/having a cop drive up to us asking if we "just got out of a cab", I had SUCH a great weekend in The Hamps :) The quote of the night: "I can't believe we dropped her...twice!" Oh, and we got uber tan and sun-kissed and totes saw Michael J. Fox at the beach! #winningweekend.

How was that for a few weekends worth of blog post stories? 

Caught in a web

Sooo...last night was fun.

In Bubba's words, "Sooo much fun." And she's right.

You see, when it comes to the both of going out together for a night on the town, we always have fun. No matter if plans change or fail (which they did) we find alternatives. Because two bubbas together always figure out their shit.

A little background
Bubba wanted to go to Lavo on Thursday night. We have a promoter friend who thinks hipster is the new homeless and goes to many a different raging club every night of the week. He doesn't sleep, as he stated last night. But on this particular Thursday, Calvin Harris would be DJing at Lavo. I literally had an imaginary baby when I heard this. Bubba had no idea who CH was. So I told her to listen to some of his awesome jams.


We were both EXTREMELY excited because this was supposed to be what our night would look like...Calvin Harris @ Lavo NYC in 2010.

Instead, we ended up going to a gay guy gogo dancing bar across the street. 

Mind you, Lavo is owned by the same people who own Tao (yeah, that restaurant/club with the big Buddha in it), which is next to said gay bar. Not only did we show up on time at Lavo to meet Promoter, but we also kind of rushed getting there. We were standing outside while people were coming and going and walking all over the sidewalk thinking they were important. Limos were pulling up (excuse us for taking a cab) and people were getting in line for the club downstairs where CH would be spinning. Ugh, model city. And it's not like we can really say anything mean about them - we don't know them. And they're pretty. Like really pretty and tall and they know it and they're just...ugh. Fucking models, man!

We could tell something was up. Promoter kept pacing back and forth and walking away and smoking a cigarette and looking at his phone. Basically, he was doing everything but telling us what the deal was. So it's been like, I don't know, a half hour standing in our painful heels looking like clowns before he tells us, "Yo girls, we're goin across the street. C'mon." No dude, I wanted to see Calvin Harris at Lavo. Not go to Tao because that's a plan you can pull out of your ass. And clearly, everyone is in front of Lavo like spawn in front of a Toys R Us on Black Friday.

We stood out front and pondered about the little place next door called The Web. Promoter guy told us he jetted down in there to take a piss earlier that night and found out it was a go-go dancing man bar with lights, a bar over-looking a downstairs dancing area and lots of men who liked other men. To both Bubba and I that sounded like a wayyy better time than this whole let's-hang-out-in-front-of-clubs-looking-stupid-next-to-cool-models. Like no.

"I think we're gonna go down there and have a drink," I said after patiently wondering what the FUCK we're doing in front of Tao as we watch people wait in line across the street at Lavo.
"You're gonna go down there?" he asked.
"Yeah, just have a drink and stuff...like is everything okay?"
Promoter's other promoter guru twin friend was shaking his head looking annoyed at the situation over at Lavo. "Yeah, people are just...stupid."
And in my slight bitchy tone I ask, "Well, what's the issue?"
He half smiles and said basically the same thing he said before.
"K. Well, we'll be down there."

Gay man paradise. It was a way better choice. The people were friendly, the music was awesome, and the bartender even brought over a portable air conditioner for us and a chair for me to sit in. "Excuse me, sexy...here you go, beautiful" he said putting a chair behind me. Ugh, I fucking loved this place. We made new friends in an environment where we didn't have to be tall, good-looking model giants to get in. I mean, we are good-looking and Bubba is taller than me but you know what I mean. We were ourselves having a great time with great company. It's great going out not having to worry about skeevy guys hitting on you but you still get the attention you want. It's a win-win!

Promoter ran downstairs to get us for the "walk-in" but we just looked at him and stayed in our seats :)
Who needs bottle service when there's a bar with a flatscreen playing Sex & the City 2 AND The Devil Wears Prada? When I Googled the bar, the first result called it "NYC's only Asian dance club, bar, and cabaret." Then I visited the page, and died. It was pretty much spot on and the bartender who was working was on there! So cute.

Although the two Bubbas had an amazing time with new friends in a super, fun, non-judgmental environment, there's always that "Damn, we shoulda been there" moment. We heard one of the gay guys come downstairs and talk to friend sitting next to us at the bar...

"Guess who's at Lavo right now?...Jay-Z and Beyonce."

For Amy

Doing research at work, I came across a blog that featured a posting Russell Brand had written on his blog about the recent death of 27 year-old British singer-songwriter Amy Winehouse. There have been speculations of the singer's death being subject to a possible drug overdose. Brand being a recovering addict himself wrote on his blog about Winehouse. Quite touching and makes me love him even more...

When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.

Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.


I’ve known Amy Winehouse for years. When I first met her around Camden she was just some twit in a pink satin jacket shuffling round bars with mutual friends, most of whom were in cool Indie bands or peripheral Camden figures Withnail-ing their way through life on impotent charisma. Carl Barrat told me that “Winehouse” (which I usually called her and got a kick out of cos it’s kind of funny to call a girl by her surname) was a jazz singer, which struck me as bizarrely anomalous in that crowd. To me with my limited musical knowledge this information placed Amy beyond an invisible boundary of relevance; “Jazz singer? She must be some kind of eccentric” I thought. I chatted to her anyway though, she was after all, a girl, and she was sweet and peculiar but most of all vulnerable.

I was myself at that time barely out of rehab and was thirstily seeking less complicated women so I barely reflected on the now glaringly obvious fact that Winehouse and I shared an affliction, the disease of addiction. All addicts, regardless of the substance or their social status share a consistent and obvious symptom; they’re not quite present when you talk to them. They communicate to you through a barely discernible but un-ignorable veil. Whether a homeless smack head troubling you for 50p for a cup of tea or a coked-up, pinstriped exec foaming off about his “speedboat” there is a toxic aura that prevents connection. They have about them the air of elsewhere, that they’re looking through you to somewhere else they’d rather be. And of course they are. The priority of any addict is to anaesthetise the pain of living to ease the passage of the day with some purchased relief.


From time to time I’d bump into Amy she had good banter so we could chat a bit and have a laugh, she was “a character” but that world was riddled with half cut, doped up chancers, I was one of them, even in early recovery I was kept afloat only by clinging to the bodies of strangers so Winehouse, but for her gentle quirks didn’t especially register.

Then she became massively famous and I was pleased to see her acknowledged but mostly baffled because I’d not experienced her work and this not being the 1950’s I wondered how a “jazz singer” had achieved such cultural prominence. I wasn’t curious enough to do anything so extreme as listen to her music or go to one of her gigs, I was becoming famous myself at the time and that was an all consuming experience. It was only by chance that I attended a Paul Weller gig at the Roundhouse that I ever saw her live.


I arrived late and as I made my way to the audience through the plastic smiles and plastic cups I heard the rolling, wondrous resonance of a female vocal. Entering the space I saw Amy on stage with Weller and his band; and then the awe. The awe that envelops when witnessing a genius. From her oddly dainty presence that voice, a voice that seemed not to come from her but from somewhere beyond even Billie and Ella, from the font of all greatness. A voice that was filled with such power and pain that it was at once entirely human yet laced with the divine. My ears, my mouth, my heart and mind all instantly opened. Winehouse. Winehouse? Winehouse! That twerp, all eyeliner and lager dithering up Chalk Farm Road under a back-combed barnet, the lips that I’d only seen clenching a fishwife fag and dribbling curses now a portal for this holy sound. So now I knew. She wasn’t just some hapless wannabe, yet another pissed up nit who was never gonna make it, nor was she even a ten-a-penny-chanteuse enjoying her fifteen minutes. She was a fucking genius.

Shallow fool that I am I now regarded her in a different light, the light that blazed down from heaven when she sang. That lit her up now and a new phase in our friendship began. She came on a few of my TV and radio shows, I still saw her about but now attended to her with a little more interest. Publicly though, Amy increasingly became defined by her addiction. Our media though is more interested in tragedy than talent, so the ink began to defect from praising her gift to chronicling her downfall. The destructive personal relationships, the blood soaked ballet slippers, the aborted shows, that youtube madness with the baby mice. In the public perception this ephemeral tittle-tattle replaced her timeless talent. This and her manner in our occasional meetings brought home to me the severity of her condition. Addiction is a serious disease; it will end with jail, mental institutions or death. I was 27 years old when through the friendship and help of Chip Somers of the treatment centre, Focus12 I found recovery, through Focus I was introduced to support fellowships for alcoholics and drug addicts which are very easy to find and open to anybody with a desire to stop drinking and without which I would not be alive.


Now Amy Winehouse is dead, like many others whose unnecessary deaths have been retrospectively romanticised, at 27 years old. Whether this tragedy was preventable or not is now irrelevant. It is not preventable today. We have lost a beautiful and talented woman to this disease. Not all addicts have Amy’s incredible talent. Or Kurt’s or Jimi’s or Janis’s, some people just get the affliction. All we can do is adapt the way we view this condition, not as a crime or a romantic affectation but as a disease that will kill. We need to review the way society treats addicts, not as criminals but as sick people in need of care. We need to look at the way our government funds rehabilitation. It is cheaper to rehabilitate an addict than to send them to prison, so criminalisation doesn’t even make economic sense. Not all of us know someone with the incredible talent that Amy had but we all know drunks and junkies and they all need help and the help is out there. All they have to do is pick up the phone and make the call. Or not. Either way, there will be a phone call.

10 days?!

Seriously...I have to get my shit together. So much that I haven't said on here in TEN DAYS. I'm sorry. But here's something that I think everyone should see...Oh, I also updated the Epic Sauce Reads (located to the right) of blogs that I find enjoyable.

I snagged this from Hipster Kitty, the feline friend blog to Hipster Puppy...so coot! http://www.hipsterkitty.com/

What I aspire to be.

Also, Portland-based company called Shwood makes sunglasses out of old skateboard decks. Yeah, how eco-friendly is that?! And they look uber cool and well, hipsterish. I totes want a pair because how many people are you going to come across wearing old wood on their faces? Yeah, probably me and only me. Check out their website and their on going project called Experiment with Nature.

Experiment No. 1 - Skateboard Shades from Shwood Eyewear on Vimeo.

Examples of my recklessness

Recently, I've been going through some changes. And no, I am not getting sexual reassignment surgery. I'm quite comfortable with my lady parts. Umm, eww, okay, anyways I've been feel reckless.

Huff. 

Okay, maybe not feeling reckless but I've been doing a lot of reckless things.

I just realized that when I conversed with my friends via bbm and text, I've been spelling reckless with a "w" in front...As so: wreckless. I'm fucking stoopid.

Anywho, for the past few weeks I've been doing a lot. Meeting a lot of new people, going out a lot, buying a lot of things, making spontaneous decisions, freaking out and getting excited about future spontaneous decisions, feeling manic depressive, you know...that sort of thing. I could make a list if you want. Actually, I think I'm going to make you a list right now...

1. Three weeks ago, I went out every single night of the week. No joke. I was the epitome of a social creature - gymed in the morning, worked 9-5, went out, went to bed, and did the same thing over and over again from Monday to Friday. Normally, I would have needed a day to just chill out at home and get things done around the house (i.e. blogging, sitting on the couch to watch television, eat something in my cubbard, socialize with my roommates, update my iPod...in other words, not much).

2. I bought a ukulele. I always wanted to learn how to play. So, I did something about it. I invested $30 into a bright green (with glitter!) ukulele that I ordered online. It came in a lovely box, in a zip-up case and with a tutorial DVD. The first song I learned was the 2-chord "He's Got the Whole World In His Hands." I'm still learning how to transition from chord to chord, along with how to "chuck." I also learned the four chords to Wheezer's "Island in the Sun." This instrument will add to my Hawaiian-like features and wavy beach hair so its kind of appropriate that I learn.

3. I've been posting more mobile uploads onto my Facebook. Clearly, I want the world to know what reckless behavior/random things I encounter day to day. This isn't really reckless but something I've been doing more frequently.

4. I spent a ridiculous amount of money two weekends ago on clothing when I went home. A small start to a not-so-heinous revamp of my wardrobe - just trying to embrace the hipster side of me. I bought a see-through lace shirt, some bandeau bras, random headbands, boob cream, skirts, dresses, shoes, and a new pair of sunglasses. This wardrobe will hopefully add some oomph to my current state and also be an added touch to the personality glasses I tend to frequent on my face. And I just want to see if the boob cream actually works.

5. Socially smoking cigarettes. I actually bought a pack of Parliaments just because. They have these really cool recessed filters. You'll have to look it up because I'm too reckless to want to explain it. But with all these activities that sometimes involve a few drinks, I kind of need a fag to hold me over. Again, I socially smoke - which means I smoke when I drink. Nothing I do too frequently. But I actually gave the pack, or what was left of it, to one of my roommates. He told me he sat on them. I wasn't upset. I've also grown to enjoy hookah, which isn't good because my roommate downstairs has a communal pipe. I've smoke out of it twice last week. The lightheaded feeling ain't that bad!

6. I threw up on my feet. Yeah. Completely missed the pavement and onto my jelly Michael Kors sandals. No worries though, they're plastic! And the vom was rinsed right off. On Friday of my reckless week out (go to example #1 above), I went out to a gay bar with a friend. I met her for happy hour and we thoroughly took advantage of the half-off drinks and great atmosphere. We made some new friends, we were offered complimentary pizza, and had some laughs. This took us to a second bar, where we were each given a free shot. This is when it hit me. I had to leave my friend, who wanted to stay, and make my way back to New Gross. I got into a cab, puked in said cab, lied to the driver when he asked me, "Did you just get sick in my cab?" "Uhh, no?" He proceeded to pull over, open my door and say, "What the fuck is this?!" "I'm sorry okay! I didn't mean to. I thought I made it outside of the window!" After refusing to pay him the $20 clean-up fee, I had to clean up what came out of my stomach, give him the $9 I agreed to pay him and then proceed to exit the cab. "Fucking bitch," he mumbled under his breath. I said, "Fuck you," and went to hail a second cab. This time, I made it out of the second cab before I threw up again, this time on my feet in a little corridor I found outside of Grand Central. I kept slipping in my sandals so I took them off, picked them up and walked barefoot (not my first time, mind you), to the terminal. I had 20 minutes until my train left so I went downstairs to the bathroom (I don't remember if I put my sandals back on or not), and threw up in the bathroom downstairs. Quietly of course. And then went onto the train. It was still early - I found a seat next to the bathroom and sat down in the empty train cart. I thought to myself, maybe I should go to the bathroom before the train starts moving and people start sitting down. I threw up one last time before passing the fuck out. I awoke to the conductor asking me where I was getting off. "Pelham," I said. "Uhh, that stop was a long time ago," he replied. "Uhh where are we now?" I asked. "We're on our way to Stamford." As in Stamford, Connecticut. I simply looked at his face and said, "Fuck!" I came to terms with this "oops" situation rather quickly. And besides, this was the first time ever missing my stop considering I've come home from the city plenty of times drunk off my rocker. An $80 cab ride later, and I was home. Good thing I got paid that week.

I think people should read these (along as my blog as well)

I always have this need to retweet, repost, reiterate the awesomeness of certain blog posts or articles that I come across. So on top of the random bullshit that I write, read this schtuff that makes up for my random bullshit :) Mind you, these are recent articles. I'm sure there are old articles, if you decide to dig, that are probably worth being on this list.

Compliments of Thoughtcatalog...

The Different Kinds Of Hipsters There Are

I'm Getting Coffee With My Ex This Afternoon. No Big Deal

Things I Will Do If I Have A Crush On You

Stuff The Internet Likes

The One Who Broke Her Heart

This Week On Planet Internet: Bloggers

Understanding Your Opposite-Sex Roommate

(because I live with some)

The Secret Lives Of Girls (The Things I Do That You Don't Want To Know I Do)

(sorry boys)

5 Things You Should Know About People

Compliments of Betcheslovethissite...

69. Besties

61. Yoga

58. House Music

45. Graduation

34. BBM

31. Wine

3. Studying Abroad

To read all of the topics on The Betch List (especially if you are a true Betch, it would be essential to your lifestyle) click here.

And as I was updating the work blog, I found this one: Text me, I'll Over Analyze It.

That's all for now. Shit, that's a lot.

Washed Out - Within and Without.

Such an ethereal and surf-like state is how this album leaves me after I listen to it. So fucking good and mellow and chill and wavy and sexual. Even the album art sends you good vibes.

I think I know her?

So hot. Like a sex trance. Candy for my ears. And my pet iPod is utterly happy with this being the current obsession on the Recently Added playlist. Washed Out is the stage name for Georgia-bred Ernest Greene who created this one-man wonder show back in 2009. This is Greene's first album, preceding his EPs and singles, some of my favorites being "Feel It All Around," "New Theory," and "You'll See It." 

Basically when you listen to Within and Without, just let it play. Let the whole fucking thing play. Each song basically takes you to the next. "Echoes," "Soft," & his bonus track "Call It Off" (being quite different and slightly upbeat from the latter) are epic good musical sauces to try/listen to/soak up/have sex to. Shit, the whole album is sexual. Just enjoy it ;) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=arfauoVF6aM

Party Monster

Great film based on a true story of club kids, drugs, and glamour. If only I lived back then, I'd be fabulous too. Just minus the drugs, murder, and tape around my mouth and tits.

Here are some tips from James St. James, the "original club kid," on how to be fabulous.

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aThxBOmGxOk
Watch the movie and save yourself from straight-edge boredom.

Monday music

The sun is shining on this glorious Monday morning (totes sounds like I'm a radio host for a Top 40 countdown or commercial-free hour). Got back from the First State late last night - traffic wasn't bad! It kept moving and more importantly, I didn't get pulled over when I was speeding :)

Needless to say I was a little tired this morning but this song, and his voice, put me in great spirits. I think today will be a good day :)


Trouble - Ray LaMontagne

4th of July Recap

Now onto a recap from last weekend's relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of the city and even the suburbs. Off to the mountains we went, particularly to the Andes in upstate New York. It's part of the Catskills in a really cool county: Delaware County :) Representin' the First State in the Empire State - hell yeahhh.

Hung overly, I drove with the company of my roommate Jordo (nickname) and our friends Chelsea & Courtney. We hit some traffic going up north, probably some people going to Lake George even further north. We saw a car accident happen - at least I did. Some guy totes rear ended some other guy and stopped in the middle of traffic and checked out what happened. That definitely caused some further back up - I-87 N was certainly constipated that day.

We made a pit stop for some gas at some over crowded and diversified rest stop. I usually get weirded out by rest stops and try not to stay in them long. But we got some grub and sat down and I was bugging out. There was an Asian baby crying and flailing in his mother's arms while we were in line for some food. "Aww, he's probably upset that there isn't a Panda Express here," I said. I was probably right too.

We sat near a table full of Indian people checking other people out and judging them. A European couple walked by us a few times speaking in tongues. This rest stop was poppin' and it was scaring the shit out of me. We got outta there, tried samples of dried veggie snacks a local farmer's market was giving out (again, at least I did), filled up the car with gas and went on our way. About 2 hours later we were in mountainous, slim-to-none-phone-service land. Tor drove her 4-wheel drive vehicle down to my rear-wheel drive vehicle that wasn't going to make it up the rough unpaved path to get us and our belongings. It was like a roller coaster ride driving up there and then the trees parted and we were greeted by her lovely house, pond, and beautiful view of the reservoir.

 With very little contact with the outside world, we drank, played games, sat outside by the fire, watched movies, ate shit, and drank some more the whole weekend. Most of us also chain smoked like chimneys. Parliaments are probably my new favorite social smoking device. Mind you, I only smoke when I drink occasionally and someone has some (also being generous enough to share with those, including myself, who smoke when they drink).

Considering I was hung over from an adventurous night out the night before, on top of a Thursday evening out at some techno event where I ended up staying out til 5am, I was running on about 10 hours of sleep. I was out like a light bulb when my head hit the pillow that Saturday night.

We awoke to torrential downpour, thunder, and lightning Sunday morning. But that didn't stop everyone, sans Tor and I, from playing a drunken wiffle ball game out in the rain after the thunder subsided. Tor and I got acquainted with Anna Faris in The House Bunny. "Can I just get the one mahi?" So funny.

Sunday was sunless but the boys put together a sad excuse for a fire - granted, we were up in the mountains living in a cloud that day...literally. The moisture from the cloud smothered all of us and everything on the top of the mountain we were staying on. It was actually kind of cool!

We did fireworks late Sunday night considering the 4th landed on a Monday and most of us had to work the next day and opted not to be sitting in traffic. Bryan, our designated firework master of ceremonies, supplied us with the entertainment. He even got us all a shit ton of sparklers to play with.


We also lit up some roman candles and shot them out toward the pond. Don't know what a roman candle is? Here:

Our roman candles that we lit weren't this intense. But they were colorful. And I do enjoy color just as much, if not more, than fire. Fireworks are a combination of both of them and they always fascinate me. Ugh, I love an excuse to set some off. 

Monday, I caught some rays. I woke up, putting my bathing suit on straight away. Not seeing any sun the day before made me seem like I was an opposite vampire trying to rush and get sun before we had to leave (and as an opposite vampire, I'd die slow and painfully if I didn't get enough sun in one day and therefore had to savagely eat vitamin C-induced fruits like oranges. Ugh, if only). 

The pond near Tor's house is full of newts and frogs. I wanted to bring a newt back and make it my pet. Sir Isaac NEWTon would've been his name. But I refrained considering I didn't have dry worms to feed it and the necessary essential pet gear to have it live more than a few hours. Next time though, I'm gettin' me a newt!

My new friend: Sir Isaac NEWTon :)

Great weekend away from reality with amazing company. I always know how to relax up in the Catskills. Who needs phone service? I honestly didn't mind not having any. 3 days of not being able to be reached by the outside world sounds scary (like what if something bad happens...God forbid. Besides there were some dry spots around the house that had phone service - one just couldn't move from that spot while they were using his/her cell phone) but at the same time it's like a cleanse from things we use daily. A detox from routine, of constantly having to check your phone for texts, bbms, e-mails, notifications, etc. Ugh, who needs it?! I'll gladly take 3 days of being unpopular over a being busy bee with a phone hit up by the world. I like things simple sometimes. Eh. Until next time. 

The colours you have, no need to be sad

Colours - Grouplove

Home again

Oh, the perks of being home, or haome as I pronounce it. Such a relaxing place. After being in New York, going out and being reckless, traveling to fun and adventurous places, I definitely needed a break. I still have to blog about DMB, 4th of July, my recent reckless behavior, new adventures, and the like. I've been updating this shiz with quick tunes and vids but haven't really found the time to really sit down and get back into it like I used to.

So, with being home, I think this is a great time to tune out the great Northeast and come back to my roots - sitting at my dining room table jamming to a mix of mashups, Mac Miller, and...Ray LaMontagne. He has suuuch a beautiful voice and after hearing him live at the Caravan two weeks ago, I fell in lurve with him even more.

With that said, I may just start off with a recap of two weeks ago...

There he is!

To kick off his 4-show Caravan as I've stated in this preview sort of post weeks ago, DMB performed along with an array of other artists for 3 days at Bader Field in Atlantic City, New Jersey.


The venue was an abandoned airfield that filled to the brim with fans, hippies, old folk DMB fans, kids, babies, and hoola-hooping hipster chicks. The weekend was sun-filled and wind-ridden. The dust from the abandoned field smothered everyone so even attempting to stay clean was out of the question.                                    
Dave played epic sets every night, with the rest of the day being filled with tunes from other artists. But during the day, we did water-based activities back at the Steinberg residence where we were staying. All 14 of us DMB fans were hitting the jet skis, soaking up some sun, wake boarding, tubing and hanging out. It was a relaxing 3 day weekend with friends, sun, and music. I give props to Bassnectar, who's set was sick and had every one dancing, swaying, bobbing to dubstep. Take note of the hoola-hooping/smoking hippie chick (mind you, she's doing two things at once - impressive). I went up to her after I took that picture and said how my friends and I were admiring her from afar of her awesome skillage. "Aww thanks! I have that shirt," she responds in a bubbly manner. Somewhat confused, I blurt out, "What?" "I have that shirt. Forever 21?" "Yeah!" And we part ways cordially. We made new friends like that. I'll miss the Caravan...a lot.

Determined to read the book by Christmas...

Ughhhhh can't wait. This shit looks mad crazy but so good at the same time. I guess I should have listened to the biffle nug about the book suggestion she recommended months ago. However, I don't think she even read it. She was probably just keeping up with #trendz. Oh, and Karen O's voice in the cover of "Immigrant Song", amaaaaaazinggggggg!

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 2011 Trailer

Naturific music vid

Cillo's chill, vocal mix of Metric's "Help I'm Alive." Even though the title is called "Breathe." Thought it was Sia's "Breathe Me." But nope, still good :)


Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMqlqkQB000

I Don't Mind Marilyn Manson

I remember saying that during a conversation among friends on the topic of music. I think I just blurted it out. Well, c'mon now, if you haven't heard his cover of Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" than you certainly are...uhh...TAINTED. I haven't really heard much of him say for his appearance in Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine, where, in a segment of the documentary, the artist has been criticized for his "satanic" performances, lyrics, and appearance. His video for his '09 hit "This is the New Shit" could probably best describe him...


Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4kQMDSw3Aqo

Okay, the one contact thing scared me too. But he's an artist like anyone else just like that crackerjacknugget hearthrob singer Justin Biebz. If I was still in 8th grade (during my "dark" phase...shut up we all had one!) I would have preferred the version of "New Shit" as the one above but I'm digging this remix by Krool Kickz!

I cried today at work...

Okay, maybe not cry-cry but I certainly teared up. I think I'm PMSing but I can't be too sure. I'm irregular so Aunt Flow comes when she wants to but lately she's been rather consistent with her scheduled visits. She's probably around the bend. I'm waiting so she'll be my excuse for being...uhh...bitter?

I woke up this morning with this "Ah titty fuck, I don't wanna go to work! In fact, I don't wanna do anythingggg!" feeling. But I've been feeling like that for a few weeks now (for reasons that aren't even going to be explained because I'm tired of going over it - this goes to all of my great supporters out there. I'll be sure to thank you when I have my special on HBO in a few years. God, I'm destined for greatness and I don't even know it yet).

And I'll even consider thanking those who follow my blog. But what I don't get is dis: you read it, but don't follow me. People, I neeeeeeed followers. Need them. If I'm destined for this mysterious unexpected greatness I'm going to have, I need you to follow me on Twitter, on here, and on the streets. You know, like a posse of sorts. Have a Gmail account? Awesome! Follow me. Have a Twitter account? Even better. Follow me...because I have a Twitter button on this blog AND I have a Twitter account that takes you to this blog (bee tee dubbs...Follow me at Jules_allen on Twitter). SO FUCKING DO ITTTTTTT.

Shit, my roommate follows my blog and he's probably getting sick and tired of me venting about how my life is so utterly shitty (well, it's not shitty, but if you're a regular reader than I'm sure you've read about how my life at certain times was absolute fuckness). Bee tee dubbs: read his blog: http://bmckeon.blogspot.com/

I'm hoping he'll reimburse me somehow for that complimentary shoutout : D

Anyways, the two reasons I teared up at work:

The Idea of You - DMB


Lately - David Gray


Beth/Rest - Bon Iver

Attention Blackberry Users...

Because we all bitch about it...

3. BBM ruins relationships. There is something so sinister about the little “D” that appears above your sent BBM. For non-Blackberry users, this means your message has been delivered, but not yet read. Your message is sent and now you wait. Five minutes have passed and you start to panic a little. “Why hasn’t he/she read my BBM yet?” you wonder. “He/she must hate me, right?” No! Chill the fuck out. Put down the phone before you send a crazy “Well obviously you’re ignoring me” text. Sexual politics are confusing enough without the help of instant messengers that make it seem like you should be talking 24/7 simply because you can.

Source: 5 Reasons I Hate Cell Phones (And You Should To)

"Skinny love doesn't have a chance because it's not nourished."

Wisely said by Justin Vernon, the amazing voice behind Bon Iver. The band's name relates to the French term "bon hiver" meaning "good winter," considering their 2007 debut album, For Emma, Forever Ago, was recorded in his dad's Wisconsin cabin. Talk about cabin fever. But if that means you churn out a successful album in THREE MONTHS, (along with the breakup of your former band, coping with an ending relationship, and dealing with mononucleosis) than that's something to be proud of. Who said isolation needs to be depressing? Some great artists make beautiful things during difficult times in their lives.

Their latest compilation of amazing, woodsy sounds, eponymously named Bon Iver is on a different path of musical genius compared to For Emma. Some of the song titles resemble cities - both existent and non-existent (i.e. Hinnom, TX). And although For Emma was recorded in his dad's cabin, this second album was recorded in a remodled veterinarian clinic in Wisconsin. How sick! Ugh, this makes love them even more.

I recently read a Pitchfork interview with Vernon and he certainly knows how to answer questions so eloquently. I felt like I was reading an indie rock version of Obama's speeches. Mr. Prezzy Poo knows how to interview well too! Some semi-motivational, awe-inspiring quotage from Vernon's interview:

On the topic of his ex-girlfriend Christy Smith, who is rumored to be who "Skinny Love" was about: 

"I'm not afraid to talk about it, but how do you guarantee it's accurate? To say that "Skinny Love" is about Christy would not be entirely accurate. We dated and she's an incredibly important person that I lived with for a long time, but it's about that time in a relationship that I was going through; you're in a relationship because you need help, but that's not necessarily why you should be in a relationship. And that's skinny. It doesn't have weight. Skinny love doesn't have a chance because it's not nourished."

On the perception of truth:

"I began realizing that it wasn't important for me to concern myself with the perception of truth. It's like a giant metaphor for high school-- people think or say certain things, and those ideas get amplified via telephone and, all of a sudden, somebody's a dick or a racist. I just want to know that, no matter what the perception of me as a person is, I can live with who I actually am. But I find it funny that the stories are wrong. It goes to show that even the indie rock world-- which is supposed to be about truth and independence from corporate mindfulness or something-- is totally subject to the paraphernalia of celebrity."

On writing songs about friends:

"I never thought like that before but, with Emma, people always ask me, "Did you ever second-guess how it was about all these people once the record got big?" I have to reiterate that the album was more about me than anything. Emma isn't a person as much as it's a place and a time. The reality is, if you're friends with somebody you should be able to be honest with them, and that honesty should be the biggest magnet to truth. I've had conversations with the people that the songs regard and, while it can be uncomfortable or awkward, I feel like we're in a very celebratory, loving place. Especially on the new record, I feel like there's nothing but yee-haw vibes about these people."

On being one's self in a relationship:

"[...]no matter how much you care about a person, you have to be able to know that you can sit down at night and be happy with who you are without that person. That's really hard when you're a lonely emo kid. But you can do it. You should be able to have happiness. If you don't have that, then you're not really bringing your whole self to the relationship. You're using each other as a crutch. But I could be totally fucking wrong."

On changing the name of his group:

"[...]You never have to be scared about who you are. You never have to be scared to look to the future for opportunity. You never have to change your scene because you're always comfortable with evolving. It's about the opportunity to never have to worry about being something someone expects you to be-- you just have to be who you are."

Clearly, I was intrigued by his answers (see bolded, colorful quotage!). I absolutely agreed with his statement about being honest about those you know. Sometimes honesty is what causes people, including myself, to be fearful. They run away from it. They don't wanna believe it. But it's truth. And sometimes it sucks. But oftentimes it occurs for a reason. Some mysterious, unknowing reason. Holocene.

Because sometimes we just need time...lots of time.

I promise to update all who care (very few of you) about my stellar weekend with friends at the Dave Matthews Band Caravan show in Atlantic City, NJ. It was the first stop of his 4 city "tour thing" that guarantees three nights of DMB and other amazing artists like O.A.R., David Gray, Thievery Corporation, Damien Marley and Bassnectar. Yah, I know the last one is kind of out there and doesn't relate sound wise to the other artists but it was still a bright and exciting artist to see amongst everyone else. Other artists that will be seen at the future shows (Lakeside in Chicago, Governors Island in New York, and The Gorge in Washington) include John Butler Trio, The Roots, Kid Cudi, and...Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.

Yeah, I don't wanna talk about it.

Like whyyyy couldn't they be in AC? WHY?!

Oh well. Before I die I will see them perform and maybe I'll be lucky enough to be asked to be part of their group. I can play the triangle. And I told myself I'd learn how to the play the ukelele.

SIDENOTE
I just bought a ukelele just now after having a ten minute conversation with my awesome co-worker about Christopher Guest movies and mini harps. We tried Googling the actual name for those tiny azz harps. My forthcoming new musical instrament and latest hobby will be coming in about a week. It's bright green and sparkly. Somewhat like my personality but I just wished I was a little more sparkly.

The Pixies definitely asked the right question: Where is my mind?

Million Pieces

Suuuuuch a good song. The lyrics are something to live by if you think about them ;)

Sidenote to previous posting...

I submitted the previous posting to Thought Catalog. I figured, why not? I've been blogging for almost an entire calendar year. I've written reviews (some of monetary value), and basically opened up a majority of my personal life to the wild, world called the Internet. People I don't even know are reading my unique vocabulary and diving into the random fuckness that my life entails. It's whatever at this point. Now the only thing I'm thinking about is my previous post. Passive aggressive? Slightly. But maybe I just wanted to get my point across before I really have to tell the person I'm "seeing" that that's how I feel. Huff, I'm sweating with nervousness. I probably just screwed myself in the a-hole.

Meh. Whatevs. It's not like it hasn't happened before. I'll let you think of that any way you like.

On the topic of (mind) games.

Games are meant to be played out of fun and leisure. Get a group together for some monopoly, ask your dad to play a game of chess, playfully compete with your best friend at a game of beer pong. Things of that nature.

Games shouldn't be played to hurt someone - wouldn't a game be considered ironic if that was the case? Hurtful games involving emotions and unkind doings are just...sOoOoOo not nice. Mind games suck. They truly do. Because let's say you're dating someone. You both have been burned in the past and are trying to NOT do what you've done in the past - because getting burned one too many times sucks balls and honestly, you both don't need to go through what you've gone through before. You're both young, vivacious, weird, and pretty fucking good-looking, so you really have no time to deal with bullshit.

At the same time, dating someone new is where a game, like chess, begins to be set up. They're organizing their pieces on the board as you do the same thing. Dating is strategic. It should be fun and exciting but it no way shape or form are you going to make yourself vulnerable to someone who you consider a rival in the beginning.

You show them your moves and they counterattack. It's a back and forth of impressing, showing up, and a little flirting with some friends to show them, "Hey, you're not the only important one here." But there comes a time in this whole dating "thing" you're both trying to figure out when the games just become a bit too much. Are they seriously needed after the many times you've hung out? You've already established a liking to hanging out with this person, you two talk frequently, you "like" each other's Facebook lives, and so forth.

But do you have the courage to say the games need to stop? Absolutely not. You still don't know where they stand and they don't know where you stand either. You refrain from communicating too much as to not be considered a bother to the other party. You lay a little low but still hope they contact you. And they're probably thinking the same thing - but what sucks is that you. just. don't. know.

You're both playing the game. You both want to win without giving in. It sucks because what if the game never ends and this "thing" doesn't go anywhere? You're at a loss. You ask your friends for advice and take it but at the same time you can't stand this "silence." You want to contact this person but tell yourself "Nay, nay put the phone down, bitch." You get cranky and try to counterattack with cool weekend Facebook recaps. Give me a fucking break - you both are miserable. But not really because you have great groups of friends that can hopefully distract you from this person. Trivia night? Hell yeah, I'm down. Anything to get my mind off hearing from this person I'm kinda-sorta-probably-dating (which would be great to say I am dating this person if we could just fucking communicate like we used to!).

There comes a point where one of you has to give in just a wittle bit. And I consider whoever that is to be the brave one. And I give many props for doing so. It ends the silence (hopefully), re-establishes interest, and assures the other party that things are in full swing. Unless they're immortal and decide "Eh, I'm over it...next!"

But either way, you take risks. You give yourself some sort of closure so you're not sitting around wondering what's going on. Even if things don't work out, you find out that they didn't  work out instead of sitting around in silence, watching your hair turn gray. You're too good-looking to sit around waiting for your hair to turn gray.

Music I put my laundry away to...

Just a few songs I jammed out to while I sorted through socks and PANTIESSSSSZZZSSZZZSZSZ

Celestica - Crystal Castles (sick video)

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsxNUl1IHnE

Skinny Love (Das Kapital Rerub) - Bon Iver

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS2w5B0MvvY

Enter Galactic - Kid Cudi

Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GF6oL0IwgD0

Mud.

Last night ("I let the party get the best of me//Waking up in the morning, two hoes laying next to me")...Baha had to say it - that song has been on the radio for a while now. But anyways, last night I went to the city and went to dinnah with RCC (Really Cool Chick). I call her Goose though.

I haven't really gotten the chance to explore the cool eating places and hang outs of L.E.S. I mean, the only reason I headed down that way was when Cooper 35 was still around (R.I.P. wahh). That place was BOMB - cheap grub, cheap STRONG drinks, fun crowd, chill atmosphere (they left old Valentine's Day decorations up probably from way before the biffle nug and I found the place 4 years ago), and it was called an "Asian Pub." Sort of an oxymoron dontcha think? It's closed now, so that forces me to find other places for chill, relaxing hang out seshes with my biddies. Goose recommended this place called Mud, which I've heard of before but only because I've seen their bright, orange ice-cream truck selling coffee on the streets. So cute by the way.

Their physical location was just as cool as their truck. Narrow entrance but in the back there was prime, outdoorish seating. Great for chill, hang timez. The menu was healthful but delish and Mud offered vegetarian/vegan* options for those...you know...hipsters ;)
*Goose be a vegan goose. She's still cool though. So far.

I hadn't had a good salad in a while, so I opted for the MUDmama House Salad - mixed field greens, tomato, carrots, hemp seeds (which I think they forgot to throw in there...bitches), and AVOCADO & orange vinaigrette on the side. It was fresh & good & colorful & scrumptious & so uber hipster that I wanted to rock my personality glasses and hobo hat.

BOMB.

I was hoping to find Alex Ebert of Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros in the back playing music with his tribe of downtown L.A. hippies. Ugh he makes me jimp...

I don't know what it is about him...

Maybe next time he'll be there if he's ever in New York. Oh, and something good to point out is this place is CASH ONLY. So bring plenty of moolah so you don't make really cool chicks, like Goose (so far), pay the tab. I owe you, lady! More info on this spectacular spot here: http://www.themudtruck.com/spots.html

Gagavocado.

If you haven't noticed Lady Gaga's face these days, she's got these extraterrestrial "thingies" protruding from the surface like so...

ummm okay.

And I thought my cysts were odd. Anywho, I went grocery shopping a few weeks ago - key word being "weeks" considering I have no food to my name say for the carton of eggs I should be eating and the 3 bottles of zero calorie vitamin water. And instant mashed potatoes my mom gave me the last time I went home. Ugh. I bought avos and I found one that looked just like Gaga!

Lo and behold - the Gagavocado.

See it? In the corners? Freaky deaky right?! Totes.

Babe Walker

She is hysterical, yet I have no idea who she is or if she even exists? It's like following Lord Voldemort on Twitter.



source: http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/babe-walker-of-white-girl-problems-does-new-york-fashion-week/

Psh, gurlllll...

I think it's kind of funny how girls I went to high school with are now into music they used to not be crazy about or haven't heard of for that matter. I mean c'mon now, you're into Avicii and you went to Ultra in Miami and saw Swedish House Mafia? Are you fo' reallllll?! You spent all of high school listening to Howie Day and watched One Tree Hill. You went shopping in groups to the mall and hung out with the elite IN crowd that consisted of the really good-looking established male athletes from our sister school down the road (funny how our "sister school" was an all-boys Catholic prep school...holla atcha gurlll). You didn't really curse a lot accept for a few minor words like "hell," "damn", and "oh, sugar!" And when you drank, let me tell you, it was suuuuuch a big deal because you and your crew were cool enough to go down to Dewey (without your parents), build a fire on the beach and drink Peach Schnapps and drink Natty Ice. Didn't know this was that scene under the bleachers in Virgin Suicides...but okay. I'm such a bitch for categorizing "straight edge" chicks who I was friends with at a time in my life. I actually enjoyed their company and okay, fine I admit it - I watched One Tree Hill too. For a bit. But in no way, shape or form do I find Chad Michael Murray dreamy and hawt. He is a great-looking guy and very attractive but that sole fact makes me unattracted to him if that makes sense. Besides, I was wayyyy more into watching The O.C. Seth Cohen, I will forever adore your skinny jew-boy a$$.

Considering I always thought I was ahead of the curve listening to obscure artists and bands before the entire universe creamed their pants months later when their hit songs would blow up radio stations probably makes me speak this way. And in this tone. Again, apologies for crabby bitch tones. If I saw these people in person I probably wouldn't flat out say things like this to their faces. But maybe chuckle a bit, question their liking to a certain artist/band, and then say "Oh. Okay!"

But don't you ever feel remotely super cool when a song you loved months ago is only now becoming a popular single that everyone is playing on repeat? You just sit there and say nonchalantly/slightly (un)interested, like I do, "Oh, yeah...I put this on my iPod like months ago."

I think now I've let the whole Grr-I-knew-about-this-band/artist-before-you-did attitude subside a bit. But I just wanna make two things clear: I was listening to techno music wayyyy before I moved to New York! And everyone who is in love with Mumford & Sons can suck on my clam because the Port Lodge crew heard them wayyy before they were popular in the states!

There.

Sunday Jams.

Create a playlist at MixPod.com

The epic beer commercial (allegedly).

I don't know how I feel about this commercial. It's quite odd with the array of late 70s themes going on. This is the latest commercial for Australian beer company Hahn. I like the ferret at the end :)

Most Epic Beer Commercial - Hahn Super Dry

I Played With Fire And I Didn't Get Burned...

"I’m watching the pieces of my adult life fall together, and even though you could say I’m finding a settling ground in where I am and where I’m going, there’s still plenty risk to be had. I tend to bear my heart on my sleeve and wear my emotions like a charm bracelet—tacked with the obvious scars of my life. I fall hard and solid and strong every day...


I guess what I’m getting at here is that maybe we all need to light up a bit more with the pyrotechnics of life. This slightly eschewed rant on my bold (ok, insane) maneuvers was more a kick in the ass character building experience than anything else. But it got me here. Right where I should be. My best word of advice to anyone stuck on the see-saw of choice: do something new, try something different and take a risk going down a road that might just be a dead end. But find out. Because even if the worst happens, you’ll bounce back with the luggage of experience.

Besides, don’t we tend to regret more what we have not done—those missed opportunities and the question of the unknown—more than we do the mistakes we made from taking a risk?"

- Eli Ash

To read full article click here.

Happy Day.

For some odd reason, I was in good spirits yesterday. I have absofuckinglutely no idea why I was in such a good mood but I was. I had work to do at the office but I wasn't overwhelmed with heaps of work nor was I insanely bored. I had some great convos with mah peeps while I was the office via my crackberry. Even talking with a few of my co-workers was just awesome too. I met up with a good friend fo' dinnah last night and had an amazing time. We caught up on old stuff and discussed new stuff, exchanging advice on an array of things that we were both going through. The catch-up dinner was not only delish but it was comforting too. I'm glad that he was doing well and he also said he was having an awesome day. Was it because we both were recently employed? Maybe. Was it  because we were both going through some life changes recently? Could be.Was it because I now I have more time to pursue other interests and not have to worry about crew, class, tests, and being jobless? Partly. I'm fortunate to be able to have great conversation and feel comfortable around someone I haven't seen in 8 months.We kinda could just tell that planning this dinner was just gonna go in the right direction and it did :)

"I could tell when I saw you that you were really happy," he said to me when we drove into the city for...SUSHIIIIIIII. Noms. The place was Momoya in Chelsea. Cool ambiance, but a bit loud. Great prices for some awesome sushi. Shoulda took pics. Damn. Next time.

Yesterday was just unexplainably great. I almost tweeted this saying: "It's disgusting how happy I am today."

Although yesterday was great, I'm still skeptical about how long this happy streak will last. And I have a feeling it won't. I remember time after time feeling like everything is slowlyyyy falling into place only to have the rug pulled right underneath me. Looking back on yesterday, I asked myself, "Wait a minute. There's is something terribly wrong with this picture. Why is today running smoothly? This is unreal."

It's not a crime to be this happy because I have friends who are super duper happy all the time. I should probably learn from them. When I studied abroad in Australia, there was a rumor that Australians were such friendly people because they were in the sun all the time - granted, the sun down under isn't humid, sticky hot like in Amuuurica.

We'll see how far along I go with this good mood I'm in. I'll probably have my crabby fits with my stank face on occasionally but who doesn't?*
*this is mainly due to the fact that our new place is an ice box in the morning (central air being revved up to maximum coldness is so unnecessary) and when I leave my room to pee, I dread making that 30 foot walk down the freezing cold hallway. Wahh. 

I'm falling into my own rather comfortably. But I'm still fearful of "fucking shit up" as I would say to my friends. "Just ride the wave," as my friend said last night. Mind you, he is no surfer. But I'll take his advice.

Here's a great article from Thoughtcatalog about happiness that I slightly agree with:
Things That Make People Happy.
(especially the part about the Internet. Ant & I were in deep conversation about it last night, about how it's addicting like drogas. Eh, not good). Reading this article actually put me in good spirits. Bahh, the little things in life! <<Insert dancing BBM smiley here>>

PS: What also made me happy was finding out about two fun activities Tor and I will be doing this summer: she got us tickets to JIG, the Irish Dancing documentary we've been creamin' to see and now it's finally out and we're going to the city next week to see it. Whoo! I blogged about it back in February. Also, we're planning yet another Catskills weekend. No phone service, no glamorous living. Just the mountains, some DMB tunes, and great company to soak up the sun with :) 

This song never gets old...

I wanna be your love, I wanna make you cry,
And sweep you off your feet. I wanna hurt your pride,
I wanna slap your face, I wanna paint your nails.
I wanna make you scream, I wanna braid your hair,
I wanna kiss your friends. I wanna make you laugh,
I wanna dress the same, I wanna defend you.
I wanna squeeze your thighs, I wanna kiss your eyelids,
And corrupt your dreams. I wanna crash your car,
I wanna scratch your cheeks, I wanna make you sick.
I wanna sell you out, Want to expose your flaws,
I wanna steal your things. I wanna show you off,
I wanna tell you lies, I wanna write you books.
I wanna turn you on, I wanna make you come,
Two hundred times a day. I wanna dry your tears, E
very time you're sad, I wanna be your what's happening.
I wanna be your only friend.

I only go all the way. This time I'm not pretending.
I can't the trash, your trashy friends are spreading about us.
They got like fifty personalities. Oh girl, that's so messed up.
You see that sculpture on the hill, that's where she cleared me out
Forever. They're monitoring my subconscious massacres, I know.
Bringing it closer to the surface. So it's easily pervertable, oh oh.
I wanna be your beast, I wanna make you proud,
And play with your head. I wanna take you out,
Make you feel adored, And buy you everything.
I wanna hurt you bad, Make you paranoid,
And say the sweetest things. I wanna help you grow,
And for eternity, I wanna be your what's happening.
What's happening.

Sunday Jams.

I took on a few home improvement projects today after running errands with Boobalah, which reminds me...

HAPPY BELATED 21ST BIRFDAY TO HERMAN CRAB! (She has several nicknames). YOUR NAILS LOOK GREAT!

While said home improvement projects were being done, I let Kramer my pet iPod play some tuneage. Here are a few songs I listened to. I'd say these call for a dance party in the future. This works like an ordinary iPizzle - you press play. You can pause, go forward, go back. But you can't put it on shuffle. Clowns.

Match made in heaven.

E.T. Cannibal (LISTEN)

"We made energy with za floor bouncing"

Frump & I watched Extreme Barhopping on the Travel Channel. Why? Because we fucking can. I really wanna go to Club Watt in Rotterdam, The Netherlands.

SIDENOTE

I kinda enjoy half-listening to infomercials for pathetic gadgets. 

But these four words are the reason why I wanna go to Club Watt: ENERGYHARVESTINGDANCEFLOOR. 

Club Watt is considered the most eco-conscious club in the world and this is why...

Essentially, people who dance on the EH dance floor are generating power for the lights surrounding the dance floor as well as the lights in the floor, and the music too. It's almost like saying you can't stop dancing or else the whole club will lose power. That's a lot of pressure for someone to dance their ass off. But who wouldn't wanna dance their ass off when the floor lights up in an array of colors with every move they make? Takes me back to those L.A. Lights shoes I rocked when I was a youngin'. Holla.

 I wish I could dance like dis :\

Quote of the Day

"Anyone's life truly lived consists of work, sunshine, exercise, soap, plenty of fresh air, and a happy, contented spirit."


- Lillie Langtry

I'm craving Pad Thai

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Learning how to be Assertive...Grr

Looking at the previous Marketing Assistant's e-mails to different vendors and contacts gave me the idea of how to communicate with these people now that she's gone. Initially, I'm rather kind and patient upon waiting for a response from the people I need to be in contact with. However, playing the waiting game has not always been my forte, despite that fact that I'm forced to wait on a lot of things (a steady, drama-free relationship, paying off overdue bills, losing a few lbs. - but the last takes A LOT of effort on my part...I'm quite lax with that one).

I've started "following-up"* with contacts, by putting the phrase "Please advise" at the end of the e-mails.
*"following-up" meaning jumping down their throats after not getting a response from them in the first place. But gracefully, you know? I'm not about to say, "Listen asshole, you still have NOT replied to my numerous e-mails. When I said ASAP I meant it. I didn't mean in a few days so you can think it over. I meant NOW! How hard is it to do your job?! Huff! Get back to me or die." 

I've noticed that I'm getting more readily responses after writing "Please advise." I felt like a bitch the first time I used it when I didn't get pertinent information regarding a conference. But then I got a response ten minutes later!

I found this article on how to improve one's business writing and how the term "Please advise" can turn into a habit.

Am I beginning to turn into a Power Bitch? In due time, maybe. I'll be able to answer phone calls without being too timid to give a shit about who hears me and deal with sales calls with ease. But for now, I still insist on ending my e-mails with my usual "Kind regards," accompanied by my fancy schmancy signature I'm required to put at the end of work e-mails. I'm suuuuuch a grownup.

Kind regards,

Me.