a brief and revealing list of things i currently love

aural: Ironhorse's A Bluegrass Tribute to Modest Mouse Honestly, my favorite band covered by a bunch of Scots with banjos and moustaches. And far better diction than Issac Brock, God love his marble-mouthed soul. More Bob Dylan, Blonde on Blonde in particular, The Pixies, and OMG The Roots. Spring is coming and I want to dance.

mental: Just finished Time's Arrow by Martin Amiss, reading The Fabric of the Cosmos: Space, Time and the Texture of Reality by Brian Greene, working on a paper about Hindu, gender, goddess worship and Kali. So, a lot of destruction and junk about the universe. Right now, I'm watching Wordplay and its awesome.

gastronomical: yerba tea. It's amazing.

sartorial: still tights, plus thrift store sweaters, and wearing my hair shaggy like Nico. I also gave myself some blunt-cut bangs. They're all the rage right now.

extracurricular: live music, good friends and conversation. I've been sick all week, which has limited my enjoyment of the pleasures of life, but I'm getting better.

a brief and revealing list of things i currently love

What I'm feeding my brain:

aural: Vampire Weekend, [you know I'd love any band with a song about the Oxford Comma] rediscovering Okkervil River, Sufjan's Illinois in preparation for the big chi-town move. The Clash's first two albums, selected Bob Dylan tracks

mental: finishing up The Best American Non-Required Reading of 2007, considering giving Dave Eggers A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius a second go. Starting Time's Arrow by Martin Amiss this week. Post modern, temporal displacing goodness. Still haven't finished A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man I will consider myself a vast failure if I don't conquer Joyce.

gastronomical: miracle foods — black beans, polenta, granny smith apples, spinach. don't have the cash to be eating out, but when i do, i'll let you know if i experience anything wonderful.

sartorial: all tights, all the time. thick, knit, warm tights with skirts and dresses, and boots. headbands. jackets. I love spring.

extracurricular: running, oddly enough. my ankle is a bitch, but i am enjoying pounding the pavement. St. Patty's this weekend, and generally spending time with friends who are challenging my mind.

This week's words to live by: "Employing as much distortion as possible" from an English class discussion about post-modernism as it relates to quantum mechanics. God bless a liberal arts degree.

to catch a goddamn predator

Hey. Jan 30 is "International Delete Your MySpace Day"

Okay, after a bout with hating the internet a few years ago, I haven't really had a MySpace. I have an account, but I only have a picture up, and some basic info. And I have no friends (not for lack of requests). It was mostly just so I could log in to view people's MySpace photos. But I don't really even do that any more.

So I guess you can just take everything I wrote about my MySpace up there and put it in the past tense. Because it's gone, suckas. The best part about this is they ask you for the reason you're deleting...I simply wrote "fuck you tom." Short sweet and to the point. However, in case you decide to join me, here's a pretty decent list of reasons you could enter into field.

1. I'm tired of blink-y, shiny, glittery, hot pink, animated, thousand picture profiles blaring Natasha Bedingfield crashing my browser.
2. I'm tired of gothy, black, morbid, animated, thousand band picture profiles blaring death metal crashing my profile.
3. You have no standardized layout, which allows any monkey to customize however they want — and I am aesthetically offended by the clashing fonts/colors/general inanity.
4. I will no longer enable sexual predators.
5. You have enough money.
6. I'm sick of your awful banner ads and site glitches.
7. Deleting spam requests from creepy old men and crappy bands is taking up a huge chunk of my day which I could be using for the betterment of humanity.
8. Pedophiles. Kidnappers. General creeper-y.
   
9. I mean, have you been on MySpace lately?

Delete your MySpace. Because Facebook is better anyway, and you don't need any more marriage proposals from Amir in Qatar.