Special Edition Music Jam: Sleater Kinney

After a long absence, they are back!

Friday Afternoon Music Jam: George Baker Selection

As enamored as I am with Guardians of the Galaxy (see below), when I hear Hooked on a Feeling, I can only think of Rez Dogs. And when I’m strutting down the street, I can only think of this:

Complain Like a Pirate Day

Guardians of the Galaxy comes out on DVD/Blu soon but apparently Amazon already offered the 3D version, much to the consternation of this fellow. In case Amazon removes that comment, I’ve capture it for posterity’s (and my own amusement’s) sake:

Screen shot 2014-10-02 at 10.21.32 AM

New (Fiscal) Year’s Resolution

Today marks the first day of our fiscal new year. *horns* *champagne* *kiss* As part of my attempt to live longer, I’ve been talking about considering trying to exercise more. na ga da. I am disinclined to exercise, have been all of my life. I  purchased some motivation in the form of a FitBit which, thus far, has managed to do what glaring at the scale, struggling into pre-maternity pants, and all around malaise has not: I now walk a minimum of 10,000 steps (about 5 miles) a day JUST to get my little digital award. I suspect my canjoose nature has something to do with it too: why did I buy this $100 gadget if I’m not going to use it?! (interro-what-a-waste!).  I’ve yet to walk with music or podcasts streaming in my ear because I’m likely to be one of those walk-into-a-ditch type people if I did. I’m left only with my thoughts, stream of consciousness, and snippets of songs rattling around in my brain.

Men: [jogging]
         "I knew a woman in Paris, France,
         Had a big hole in her underpants" --
Skinner: Wait, wait, wait, wait.  Where did you pick up that filth?
Recruit: We heard Sergeant Clarke's company singing it, Sir!
Skinner: Yes, well there will be no smut in my company.  You're in this
         man's army to learn!
    Men: [jogging]
         "I don't know, but I've been told
         The parthenon is mighty old."
Skinner: How old?
    Men: We don't know.
Skinner: That's real good, but needs improvement.

Meanwhile, I’ve been attending physical therapy for my wonky arm. Whether its pre-carpal tunnel syndrome, a pinched nerve, or something else, my therapist is taking care of me. I wonder sometimes if she puts me in so much pain that when she finally releases me and asks, “does it feel better?” the answer always has to be “yes” because the applied pain has been alleviated. Big bag o’ ice, please.

Friday Afternoon Music Jam: Tweedy

Yes, I already did a Jam for Wilco but this is different!

Friday Afternoon Music Jam: Throwing Muses

On our recent trip to SFO, we hung out with our buddy J. She is the one who first introduced me to several riot grrrl bands including Throwing Muses. This one’s for you, J:

Superb Blurb: Longbourn

The “Downstairs” side of “Pride and Prejudice”. Beneath the lye, chilblains, and hogshit (and other kinds), lies a sweet and genteel little story. In addition to the delightful blurb “it was unnatural, the way he went at his work; this was not the begrudging half-arsery they were used to from the local labourers,” I liked this:

When she was a girl, and still growing, ravenous, whenever there had been a cake – a spongy cake, dusted with sugar, which Mrs. Hall had conjured up out of eggs and flour and creamy butter – Sarah would never even let herself look at it, because she knew that it was not for her. Instead, she would carry it upstairs to be rendered into crumbs, and the crumbs lifted from the plate by a moistened Bennet finger, and the empty smeared plate carried back again. So Sarah would stare instead at the carpet underneath her feet, or at the painting of a horse with a strangely small head that hung at the end of the hall, or the rippled yellow  curtains in the parlour, and would do her best not to breath, not to inhale the scent of vanilla or lemon or almonds; even to glance at the cake was an impossible agony. And for months, she realized, James had hardly looked at her at all.