It looked something like this, only a little less sparkly. It was better. Because I was looking at it with my eyeballs.

It looked something like this, only a little less sparkly. It was better. Because I was looking at it with my eyeballs. Also, there was a moon involved.

I’m not entirely sure who decided to call movie stars “movie stars.” They are people who act in movies. They are in no way comparable to actual stars, and I decided this tonight while I was on a quick walk around my block (the walk was quick because it was very cold and I had not anticipated quite how chilly it would be).

I looked up at the sky tonight, y’all. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal, only I realized while I was looking up that…I never do that. I don’t even remember when the last time I stopped and looked at the night sky, honestly. But it was so brilliant. I don’t think looking at stars will ever get old for anyone. Ever.

There was a moon, and some stars, and it’s not exciting to describe but…the moon was so glowy and the stars, though sparse, were absolutely luminous. That’s one of the perks of living in the country: there’s not so much light pollution to cover up the stars. I wonder what it would’ve looked like in the days of the cavemen when the stars shone through, unfiltered.

I wanted to take a picture, but there is no technology (at least that I can afford) that can capture what my eyeballs and my soul can. Because I think when you look at stars in person, there’s something that happens inside you…that little spot between your belly and your chest just glows, and it feels like it tries to reach up and touch the sky. I can’t take a picture of that. I can try to write about it, but even this barely does it justice since I keep saying things like “I looked at the sky and there were stars” which isn’t exactly poetic.

Anyway, it made me think that, even though I try to appreciate my surroundings whenever I think of it, I don’t think of it enough. It’s my March Resolution now: notice things more. It feels nice to see beauty.

Also, I’m listening to this right now and it’s making me feel so happy, and I think you should listen to it, too. A little folk-rock for a Friday evening. I had so many tests this week my brain is sliming out my ears, and I like to think this music is healing me.


I Grew Up So Well

I may be up at 2 a.m. and it may be because I finished editing a short story I’ve been working on for a year and I may have just submitted it to my university’s literary journal so I may be having a mini heart attack but also may be feeling so accomplished that I can’t stop jittering. Y’all, I actually finished something. Conceptualized, drafted, wrote, edited, re-edited, ruminated, re-re-edited, and…submitted. This is real life.

And it got me thinking…I had the best childhood. (How’d this thought train happen? I wrote something! –> Reading as a child helped me write –> one time I wrote a crappy story about Cleopatra and my mom loved it –> My parents were so supportive –> My parents had such eclectic taste in everything –> I practically came out of the womb singing Neil Young.)

When I say “best childhood” I don’t mean “most innocent” or “happiest” necessarily. I mean I had a childhood that I look back on and appreciate, because I accidentally was a pretty insightful kid. And everything I did then, everything I was exposed to, has made me pretty awesome (if I do say so).

Want an explanation? I present you with a series of poems from my childhood, which you will receive every other day for as long as I can come up with them. They will all be first drafts and will probably be written in the middle of the night, so feel free (gently and lovingly) to offer criticisms and ideas.

We’ll begin with BLOCKS.

I drag Pops’ box blocks, dead like wooden bricks
across the oriental carpet (red spirals from somewhere I will dream of later)
and — thunk — drop rubber zoo animals from their cloth prison, only to box them in again
within the lifeless block-walls.
The harder they come the harder they fall
Jimmy Cliff sings, high and warm, as lions leap upon giraffes, teeth tearing through tendons and muscles, spurts of blood hitting onlookers.
Years later I will remember this carnage fondly
if only to laugh at my morbidity as a five-year-old
and to rent a copy of The Harder They Come
which was about drugs
according to Dad
and I didn’t know that meant violence, too, because drugs are always paired with violence
at least when desperation gets involved,
so we document it in movies that hurl knives against the TV screen.
Age 5 doesn’t allow for true understanding of desperation, but I must’ve seen it
because I replicated it
with lions
in my house.
Peace often followed, as the lions
sick with remorse and giraffe flesh
bathed in the sun, rolling in the red tide of a rug born somewhere I’d never heard of.
As all I couldn’t comprehend washed over me
heavy accents filled my ears
and mondegreen* stole my understanding, turning every sad lyric into something pleasant.
Them a loot them a shoot them a wail shanty town.

*mondegreen is the mishearing of a word, usually within a song.



The view from Haylie’s apartment. Spectacular.

I’m leaving Seattle and I want to cry. This has never happened.

The Ice is Getting Thinner by Death Cab for Cutie came on my iPod, which doesn’t help since it’s full of tragedy and sadness and practically pulls the tears out of your eyeballs anyway.

I’ve never had a great experience in Seattle. I typically get shouted at by at least 3 people, or a cab driver tries to kidnap my suitcase, or the weather is depressing. This weekend, though, was my island. I visited my beautiful friend Haylie who is my spirit animal, and…the weekend was a dream.

We went to a cat show, y’all. There were so many Maine Coons I practically peed, and I watched a cat judging thing (weird–they’re all number one in my heart) and got stamped with a cat stamp. Every time a cat got loose they’d yell “CAT OUT, CLOSE THE DOORS, DO NOT TRY TO CATCH THE CAT” and it was weird and wonderful, just like the entire show.

Ate the best curry I’ve ever had. Bamboo shoots? Yes.

Pike Place Market: homemade latte flavored Greek yogurt? YES.

Got slightly accosted by a man who pretended to take a bite out of the pastry I was holding. He got way too close to my head and I screamed and jumped, and he laughed and said “I didn’t mean to scare you!” Really? Then he had the audacity to try to hit on me, so that’s apparently a thing that happens.

Saw Tegan and Sara live, which was actually incredible. I don’t know why I was kinda surprised, but I wasn’t really sure that I still liked them. My dad had randomly bought their album So Jealous at a record shop in Seattle and I might’ve fallen in love with them freshman year of high school, but it’s been at least 4 years since I actually listened to them much. They’re really good live, though, and even though Haylie and I sat basically behind the stage, it was still pretty brilliant.

Ra Ra Riot, however, sucks. A lot. They were technically a good band, and the singer has a nice voice, but he’s much too “oh-whoa-ho!”-y for my taste. I don’t particularly enjoy bands with no energy, and even though the violinist and cellist were both sassy and awesome, there wasn’t much that could save the lead singer from being incredibly lackluster. Also, I’m pretty sure the drummer was a wizard and possessed the crowd at one point. Nobody was really into it, and then suddenly everyone was screaming and twirling around in the stands and on the floor, and Haylie and I could only wonder what is this black magic? (I’m pretty sure that’s actually a thing, though, that everyone in the crowd knew about; when the singer sang a certain line, everyone knew to twirl. I definitely prefer to think that it’s black magic.)

And of course Death Cab was brilliant, but I wouldn’t have expected anything less. I saw them 5 years ago in my hometown, then saw The Postal Service over the summer (amazingamazingamazing) and now all I have to do is see Ben Gibbard solo before I can die happy (I mean, I’d love to see The Strokes, but that might never happen so I just have to dream).

I miss Haylie. I miss Seattle. I miss feeling free. Coming home was weird — I was in a coma for the entire flight, and came home and wanted to cry. I think this weekend sparked a bit of an existential crisis, so look forward to some moody “who am I, what am I doing, blah” posts in the future.


Baby flower children frolic in fields and rainbows. Meow.

Thank You

Dear Death Cab,

Thank you.

Thank you for playing Transatlanticism in its entirety last night. Thank you for not speaking between songs because “that’s not how you’d listen to an album.” Thank you for making me cry like an idiot in the middle of thousands of people.

Thank you for turning the 5 minute long We Looked Like Giants into a solid 10 minutes of pure glory. Thank you for encapsulating everything I ever was in one album; for being the most beautifully nostalgic noise I’ve ever heard. Thank you for reminding me of everything that was supposed to happen in my life but didn’t; it was terribly sad to remember what I’d wanted, but it was necessary for me to remember.

Thank you for being hilarious, Ben Gibbard and Sassy McSasserson (Chris Walla), after you’d finished Transatlanticism and you dedicated the next batch of songs to your first label (this one’s for you, guys!); Chris, sitting at keyboard, piped up and said, “This is a frugal song…about frugality.” Thank you, Ben, for randomly realizing that you’d worn the same shirt in 2003 (“I’m fucking not even kidding…I was wearing this shirt!”) and talking about how you “don’t change clothes just because fashion dictates it.” Lovely little monkey. It was a great shirt, by the way. Thank you, Ben, for rocking back and forth as you sing because you just can’t help it. Thank you for practically moonwalking.

Thank you for being so good live that I forgot about the buffoons sitting behind me who were so drunk I was legitimately concerned for their safety. Thank you for being so good that they knew all the words to every single one of your songs, too, even when completely sloshed.

Thank you for stealing every word from me. I wanted to write a long blog post about you but can’t even put any of it into words. These sentences are barely coherent or cohesive, but I want you all to know that I love you. Everything you’ve done is precious to me, and you have a permanent place in my heart.

Thank you.

Come On, Comedown

2013TheStrokesPA-3734757210113Y’all muffins know how much I love The Strokes. I’m pretty sure that at one point I credited them for “saving me,” so they’re a pretty deep part of my life. Also I would like to marry all of them. Specifically Julian, but I’ll take Fabrizio any day of the week (except Sunday, that’s for Jesus).

Their sound has always been intense. Julian’s voice is deep and sometimes very dark, and I love that. Its full of feeling, and these days that can be hard to find. That anger and depth got me through high school, and I’ve swooned more than once to it… I don’t know if anyone else has felt this way or if I’m just nuts, but The Strokes make me feel so good I start to feel bad. So much amazing is happening in their music that I feel nauseated and want to throw up…so yeah I’m probably just nuts.

That all being said, what the hell, guys. Their 5th album, Comedown Machine, came out today (last night on iTunes) and I peed my pants in excitement and listened to it in bed and…I was initially severely disappointed. I still can’t completely decide how I feel.

Here’s an awesome question that really needs to be asked, as loudly and angrily as possible: “What’s with the falsetto, Jules?!” I liked your growl before. It was real, it was different, it was rock and roll. It was sex in music form, for more reasons than one. This falsetto sounds like every emerging band’s sound, and I don’t need to listen to another grown man sing like a lady.

I liked Julian’s solo album, Phrazes for the Young, and it had a lot of ’80s going on in it, but it was the loud ’80s, not this marimba-y, potentially sleep inducing ’80s shit that’s going on in songs like Slow Animals and Chances. It’s good if you want an album that’s “perfect for spring!” (as every magazine has said about Katy Perry’s “summertime” hits), but I remember a time when The Strokes were suitable for every moment of every day, all year long.

Why, then, is Jules singing about finding a dog and settling down, when at one point he was singing about getting 40s and getting screwed up? I understand “evolution and change” is necessary, but please don’t buy a house in suburbia. Either way, One Way Trigger is so disjointed that the lyrics are the least of its problems…whaaat is happening?

I’m okay with Tap Out, and All the Time is my favorite of the album (give me more of that!), but…I can’t handle Call It Fate, Call It Karma. If this is their last album, I will be severely disappointed and might personally demand another. I will find you, guys, and I will make you be a rock band again. Angles was pushing it, though I learned to love that sound, but…give me something to freak out to. Give me something to fall in love with, the way I fell in love with Is This It.

Give me something with a little life in it.

Polite Raps 2: Even Politer Raps

Shoutout to my girl Caity, this one’s for you, girl. Ayeeeeee!

That’s the way it goes when you party just like I do. B****es on my d*** that used to brush me off in high school
But I understand, cuz I was a little weird back then and now you like me because you see how awesome I am. Also, I’m sorry I called you a bitch.
Take over the world when I’m on my Donald Trump s***
Look at all this money, ain’t that some s***?
Money is nice. I work for the money…but mostly I just want true love because that’s all that really matters.
We gonna take over the World while these haters gettin’ mad
That’s why all my b*****s bad, they see this crazy life I have and they in awe
We gon’ win, you can take the lose or draw
We’re awesome. So are you. You can hang out with us if you want, because this isn’t exclusive and I’m not a jerk. Be my friend!

Because really, Mac Miller is too freakin’ adorable to be rude! 

Ey b****, do you really really really wanna go hard?
Go in the crib, steal your stepfather’s credit card
And take the car do circles in the parking lot 
Scream at the top of our lungs like
La la la la la la la la la la la la
I just wanna have a nice time with mah gurls, and I’m really sorry I stole your credit card but YOU AIN’T MY DADDY! But really…sorry. And also, I’m in jail, so could you pick me up? Apparently we’re not supposed to do circles in parking lots…oh yeah, your car’s all banged up…sorryyyyyy!

So I ball so hard m*******s wanna find me
first n****s gotta find me
What’s 50 grand to a m******* like me
Can you please remind me?
Ball so hard, this s*** crazy
Y’all don’t know that s*** don’t phase me
Guys, seriously, I don’t know what just happened but I had a very explicit lapse of consciousness and I sincerely apologize for using the N word… Also, I’d like to donate 50 grand to poor people because it does matter!
And I’m really sensitive to stuff, so actually that s*** does phase me. I just gotta act tough.

Cappy OUT. (Please picture me throwing my mic to the ground.)

Polite Raps

I just wanna respect you, girl. You're lovely.

I just wanna respect you, girl. You’re lovely.

If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you son. But seriously if you ever need me I’m always here, and I truly care about you as a friend. You deserve a wonderful woman.

So what you wanna do? Shit, I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too. We’d like to practice safe sex because the transmission of STIs in this country is a huge problem. Also, we respect you as women and would like to make sure that we don’t get you pregnant. You’re beautiful.

I’m gonna knock you out, Mama said knock you out! But then I’ll revive you with smelling salts and give you a steak for your black eye, because we’re just in a boxing gym and that’s what we’re supposed to do. I’m sure you’re a wonderful person. Also, my Mom didn’t say to “knock you out,” she said you’re a knockout because you’re so handsome. So just know that. You’re very handsome.

You know it’s hard out here for a pimp, when he’s tryin’ to get this money for the rent. But what’s harder is making sure that I keep my prostitutes STI-free and safe from harm. Also, I’m trying to make money so that I can get out of this lifestyle and save a few prostitutes while I’m at it.

Right now I’m on the edge, so don’t push me. I aim straight for your head, so don’t push me. Fill your ass up with lead, so don’t push me. Just kidding. Let’s resolve this dispute like grown men. I’m pretty upset with you right now, so we need to have a serious discussion about how you’re disrespecting me. Maybe we should go to a psychologist together. I hear group counseling can be very beneficial.

The cops can’t stand me, but they can’t touch me. Except if they have just cause, in which case I will cooperate and respect their authority. I’m so glad we have such an amazing justice system in this country, and I know that they’re just doing their jobs when they apprehend me for doing bad things. Go cops! You rule!


This Time I am Reviewing a Music Video

Let me preface this by saying that 1. I like T-Swift and 2. What the heck happened in this music video?

Follow along with the video! It’ll be like a PBS show, or one of those sing-along videos with Mickey’s head bouncing on top of the words!

0:08: Ok, good, I like your lipstick, how do you get it to look so perfect? Seriously though, cuz it’s like…videoshopped…

0:13: You’re like a DJ when you do that wicky-wicky thing with your hand. I don’t hate it, but…don’t do it again.

0:19 You are wearing extremely large fake glasses whyyyyyyy?


0:45: WHAT THE HELL DANCING ANIMALS? Extremely enthusiastic dancing animals…also are you planning on changing out of your jammies? You gotta be strong, girl, you gotta get out of bed and stop doing LSD. Breakups are hard, eat a McFlurry.

1:30: I like your phone. It kinda matches the wallpaper, and matching is good. Unless you match several different shades of green in a “trendy” outfit, at which point you should just go join the army. So don’t do that, but YOU HANG UP THAT PHONE GIRLFRIEND!

1:38: Soulful animal playing the harpsicord. I like it.

1:48: Your cardboard car will fall apart if it rains. Just like your relationship with that jerk. Who looks like a ding dong if I do say so…

1:50: The monkey in the middle is creepy and…

1:55: OH GOD he’s so excited. Make him stop. He’s like an ugly muppet stop stop stop.

2:10: He had a scarf on in the springtime. That is reason numero uno that you should dump his sad booty.

2:17: What’d you see behind him? A lot of lusty girls trying to get his attention? IS HE A CHEATER? He’s so mean.

2:30: I have now been invited into a party by a dancing bear and an excited girl wearing a billowy shirt. Never thought I’d say that.

2:40: Ok you look super cute wearing your little ’50s homemaker dress. Seriously stop it’s so cute. Seriously. So cute. Seriously. Ok sorry.

3:15: Aw you winked at me! That was nice of you. I’m glad you’re happy now that you dumped his scarf-wearing ass. You deserve a McFlurry!

Ok so that was me watching a music video like a small child on YouTube and I didn’t edit this and now I shall post it. Keep in mind that I’m a jerk about things. K Thanks Bye!

PS The amount of times I had to watch this video to write this was kind of excruciating, so you’d better appreciate my efforts.

Jules Makes Me Stupid

You know those people who turn you into a school girl with a crush? And make you giggle and sigh and stuff? And then, apparently, make you blog about them like an idiot?

Julian Casablancas gives me that. And it’s kind of a problem.

I know, I know, I’ve written like 7 (more like 2…) posts about him and his faaaaaace…but I’m hardcore stupid right now. And usually when I write stuff it isn’t quite this obnoxious or silly…I like to think I’m at least a little sophisticated. But Julian turns me into a Beatles fangirl and I want to tell y’all about it.

Let me make the internet my diary.

Dear Diary,
I love Jules. Laike, soooo much. He is so dreamy and delicious, like a Spanish waffle, because those exist. He is a hunky fudge sundae and I JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!
I know he was basically a raging alcoholic and fell over on stage a couple times because of that, but maybe I like my boys to be baaad. Maybe I think alcoholism is sexy (or, you know, maybe I don’t, because it isn’t…) Maybe I like when boys are rockstars (because who doesn’t). Maybe I enjoy a good red skinny jean on a fella. Maybe I’d just like to be his wife and stuff…

Just let it happen. Just embrace it, world. Just do it. Nike told me I’m allowed to date Julian Casablancas in my head.

Anyway, I got the squiggly wigglies in my tummy and wanted to talk about it.



PS Oh. And his music moves my soul. Or something…

Rock On. And Stuff… (Part 1)

I think that I, as well as 99% of humanity, tend to focus on what I don’t have. And recently, someone told me that we have to start thinking about all the things we’ve seen, places we’ve been, etc instead of being upset by what we haven’t. I have, therefore, decided to compile a list of all the concerts I have attended in my (relatively short) lifetime.

1. Fleetwood Mac.
It was the summer before sixth grade, and I’d never been to a concert before, but I loved Fleetwood Mac (my poor mother had to listen to ‘My Little Demon’ so many times in the car when I was little), so my parents took my sister and me to see them. I must admit…I think I’m awesome because they were my first concert. (Although I shouldn’t get too high on my horse, since my mom’s first concert was The Rolling Stones.)
I just remember Stevie Nicks was so pretty, waving her tambourine around like a…I don’t know, the only phrase that comes to mind is ‘like a twirling flower,’ which I suppose is pretty apt. So Stevie Nicks looked like a twirling flower, and there were guitars…and drums…really, I mostly remember Lindsey Buckingham, because that man could freaking play the guitar. Like…holy God. So much amazing guitar.

2. Tom Petty
You know when you can tell someone is performing simply because they love it? When you can tell that they don’t do it for the fame, or the money (or at least those aren’t the only reasons). Tom Petty is that guy. I don’t remember much of that concert either, probably because the arena became a hotbox of sorts for every crappy joint in Washington State, the smoke reeking like a skunk… I’d just like to point out that when Tom Petty sings, “Let’s roll another joint” he isn’t actually asking you to do it.
Regardless, he is another incredible guitar player and is so much fun to watch. He really looked like a real rock star to me, with his tight black jeans and black leather boots and jacket.

3. Neil Young.
I know. Right? I never really thought that I’d see three great bands/performers like these by the time I was 14. But hey, I’m just that cool.
Neil Young has been playing in my house since before I can remember. I used to sing Sugar Mountain in the car with my dad all the time, and thinking about those times really makes me smile. So I went with my parents to see my man Neil.
I hate to say it. I absolutely hate to say it. But I was so disappointed in the concert. He did an acoustic set and then an electric set, both of which really were amazing, but I felt more like I was sitting in my room listening to him than actually seeing him live. I think a lot of it had to do with the venue, which was not really conducive to standing up and dancing around like a fool, as I am known to do at most concerts. I just couldn’t get into it. He also played the majority of his songs off his newest album, which I hadn’t heard yet (it had come out about a month earlier, and I’m not super on top of the latest Neil Young albums…). But it was a great experience, and he really is one of the greatest artists I’ve ever been in the same room with, so I guess I can’t complain.

4. The Hush Sound/Steel Train/The Cab/The Morning Light
First concert I went to with friends. First concert that didn’t involve some sort of classic rock, and first concert I went to where I had never actually heard of the bands until two days before…but it was brilliant. I think I count that as one of the best nights of my life. I met the drummer of the headlining band, The Hush Sound (his name was Darren. He was cute. I liked him). I got a shirt signed by two members of The Morning Light (who I loved at the time and then, upon listening to their studio EP decided that they had some seriously whiny voices), got a picture with the lead singer of Steel Train (some weird girls I didn’t know jumped in the picture, which bothered me, but hey! I got a great story out of it), and got chatted up by Steel Train’s guitarist(?) who smelled amazing and asked what there was to do in town on a Thursday night. Answer: nothing.
Anyway, I really love The Hush Sound now. That night, they did a cover of ‘Back in the USSR,’ which I figure is about as close to a Beatles concert as I’ll ever get, and I will totally take it. And the female lead singer is gorgeous, and plays piano wonderfully, and sings wonderfully, and I just…ahhh :) Look:

My goodness! I think this was the longest blog post I’ve ever written! Thanks for sticking with it, and I will continue with my list ASAP! xxooxo