song of the moment, leaving me breathless.

Gone For Good (Album) - The Shins

Untie me, I've said no vows
The train is getting way too loud
I gotta leave here my girl
Get on with my lonely life

Just leave the ring on the rail
For the wheels to nullify

Until this turn in my head
I let you stay and you paid no rent
I spent twelve long months on the lam

That's enough sitting on the fence
For the fear of breaking dams

I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head

You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there

It took me all of a year
To put the poison pill to your ear
But now I stand on honest ground, on honest ground

You want to fight for this love
But honey you cannot wrestle a dove
So baby it's clear

You want to jump and dance
But you sat on your hands
And lost your only chance

Go back to your hometown
Get your feet on the ground
And stop floating around

I find a fatal flaw
In the logic of love
And go out of my head

You love a sinking stone
That'll never elope
So get used to used to the lonesome
Girl, you must atone some
Don't leave me no phone number there

no caged bird = freedom.

walrus letter project.

check out the details here (though its too late to enter). was just saying that i wish i could have entered. instead, im going to quickly write a letter before bed. of course, nothing grand since its off the cuff...but just the same! i'd mentioned wanting to write it about an abstract idea or thing, but i think for my headspace i'll do something, er...better.

john-

tonight i was at a bar with some friends. quiet, as you know i often am in group settings, one of my future roommates pulled me outside to make sure i was okay. now, you know this makes me insane. im often in my own head, drifting in some space between what i'm going to do tomorrow and how much that piece in the times really bothered me that morning. i think she was insulted (in fact, i know she was...she called me jaded. a word you know i hate) and i really feel bad for that. but why in the fuck must everyone be so fucking loud all the time.

it made me miss you, as i often do. i think about you sparsely, but maybe more so these days. i miss our quiet moments. when we used to lay in my front yard and look at the stars. when you painted while i read. when we watched a film and a knowing look replaced a quick review. i miss that we turned our phones off together. i miss that you always made me feel like the only person you wanted to spend time with in that moment (for the record, no one has made me feel that way since. i still get stung by the sense that i'm a temporary amusement). i miss coffee and your food and silent phone calls and playing with dogs and board games and walks and art galleries and your surprises. god, i miss going to your art openings. i miss feeling proud of you and jesus christ, john... i selfishly miss you being proud of me. i think i only became this person to catch up with what you thought of me. i still lay in bed at night sometimes and wonder how i was ever, ever, ever good enough to be your best friend.

there are so many things going on right now that i'd love to talk to you about. that i know would be helped by hearing your words and your laughter. but it seems that i knew you so well that i already know what youd say. to face it, i'm going to write it here. you'd be shocked that i moved back to atlanta, and that shock would ultimately make me feel better. you'd also probably say that you know i wont be here for long. then you might quote dr. suess. you'd tell me not to worry about my future roommates and that a level head will equip me better than i think for the future. you'd also probably say that i'm crazy for trying to live with girls and that i better learn to stand a little taller. you'd say that missing new york makes sense, and then you'd ask me what i love about atlanta to give me an oprah approved "a-ha!" moment. and then you'd laugh at me again. you'd say i'll get used to the new social situation and not to feel bad or ever apologize for being a little uncomfortable. then you'd add that i should really grow some tougher skin when it comes to putting myself out there. you'd laugh hysterically at the idea of me doing improv (and then you'd say "we play every single day, so whats the need?") but you'd quickly understand my fascination.

and then i'd finally tell you that i might, maybe like someone. or maybe you'd just guess it. yep. and you'd tell me that you can't believe i waited all these years to feel for someone and that now that i do its someone who cant decide if they want me back. in fact, i know that this would break your heart more than it will (ultimately?) mine. if it were true,... but you wouldnt take my word for it. you'd sigh really silently and then you'd laugh again. i'd tell you some of the stories and you'd kiss the end of my index finger and shake your head. but you wouldnt say a word because you wouldnt have to. but then you'd get up and walk away and when you came back with a crumpled napkin in your hand i'd take it from you and you would have written on it something i wont write here. if you did talk about it, you'd tell me not to buy into games i'd never be able to get away with playing.

when you fell in love, i so appreciated you never telling me about it. but not for the reasons most people thought (fuck them, they never got it, right?) but for the real reason that we had silently mentioned so long prior. you wanted to make sure that i went through it from my own balance. you wanted me to feel the complete wash and you wanted me to do it without your warnings. there are days when i am so excited to know what its like, though most of the time it just seems too scary. to that, i know youd laugh. i miss your sincere levity.

thanks for buying me a telescope and showing me how you see the world.
thanks for indulging my fantasies and dreams and silently encouraging the whims that now shape my life.
thanks for never letting me get away with anything and for always standing up to me. and by me.
thanks for listening and understanding my hectic existence.
thanks for always being sensitive to my quirks. or, you know, about everything. youre rare, my friend.
thanks for sharing your art with me and thus truly letting me in.
thanks for making me worthy of your love and patience.
thanks for buying me a puppy so i wouldnt be lonely.
thanks for believing in me always.
thanks for giving me what i needed and not just what i thought i wanted.
thanks for thinking that im the funniest person on the planet who has no idea theyre funny.
thanks for truly wanting to understand me and constantly instigating touching conversations about what was on our minds.
thanks for reading to me every night.
thanks for being my best friend and helping me believe that my partner is out there.
thanks for letting me go so that i could learn to be more brave.
thanks for never asking me why i'm being quiet.
thanks for all the things i cant say here but that i know you know.

dont worry. my freak flag isnt flying quite yet, but i've got in my back pocket for whoever is ready.
thanks for being ready.
lauren

ps- i wrote my letter to you for many reasons. one being that Cathy gave me a found letter from you today and it made me blissfully happy. i will post some of it here.

"my dear,

i want you to know how special you are to me and will forever be, no matter what happens forever and forever. i have never met anyone like you. you are the letter i get in the mail clearly marked "john crowe" that makes me feel important. i don't know if you understand that. i think you do.

i feel like i have no right in saying i love you, but i know i love your deceptive, sarcastic, womanly ways of utter fascination. i love describing colors and things of beauty to you. i love how you simply amuse yourself. i love how you roll your eyes. i love how you say "whatever" when you're upset. i love that you read the end of a book before you start. i love your totally unwavering support, comfort and inspiration. i love how you think i am deep and i love how you are so much deeper than myself and you don't even realize it. i love how you don't like anyone watching you eat. or watching you do anything. i love the care and constant concern you have for your friends, even mine. i love that you always worry about me..."

it's not in the gutter, my friends.

unleash an adventure.

movie dialogue at its best, chasing amy.

that feeling.

you know that feeling when your heart feels like its being pierced by one million little daggers? but its not because some major thing has happened...its because youre feeling emotional, and put out there and only the smallest thing will send you over the edge? you know how most of the time you feel strong, and when you feel broken by one stupid thing it only makes you feel worthless and a little crazy? so fucking silly. and then the others persons casual asides confirm your worst fear.

you know how when this happens, nothing can hold your attention? not your favorite book, a comforting movie or catching up on a fantastic tv show. but you cant sleep...the only answer. and then you call your friends but they are out or asleep and then you feel grateful because how could you explain this while making any sense anyhow. and you wrestle with yourself over the craziness of it all but eventually fall prey to your own emotions. you think about how normal it all actually is...the fact that so many have felt so similar and infact there are probably thousands of people outside your window feeling exactly the same. and if they were you, youd give them the best advice and ease their minds. but its not them this time, its you. and you have nothing to say to yourself to make it better or to make it go away.

you try and cry but nothing comes out. you'd scream if it wouldnt wake the neighbors. youd fly to new york city if you could afford it or at the very least take a walk if the danger didnt outway your desire. you should prob work, since youre home and cant relax. but of course thats not comforting at all. so you write about it, hoping it will help but it doesnt. and then you realize that its possible youve never felt this before, and wonder how so many people cope with it. the layering of emotional intensity scares you.

the realization that youve let someone in enough to break you...to hurt you by such a large degree over something so small. and knowing that it might happen again and again.

this is painful.

im choosing to believe.

fratkin&mize.

<3 to you.

loooong time want.

NYU, i weirdly miss you.

(no required classes for me, ha!)

why don't i live here!?

and, um, who needs a man?

sooo good [chris, 6].

check out this slate video, amazing mydears.

coraline.

saw recently. no one has asked me what i thought of it, so i think i gave my mind a breather and didnt think about it for a bit. but while i agree that it was beautiful and a delight to watch, i must admit it felt hard for me to connect to the character. i didnt love the acting choices and i thought coraline was very, very bratty. i know shes a kid and all, but it made it harder for me to feel for her. i thought she was going to be a real badass chick, a la marjarine in persepolis. i gotta give it to that film...still the best ive seen in ages. i think i have it on dvd in new york. i hope.

congrats, ry.

my sweetheart is finally getting hitched. it only took wading through too many years and too many indie rock chicks for him to fall for mandy. and hey, not what i would have guessed for him, but she is sweet as pie and got the man to quit smoking. and that dude loves to smoke more than anyone else i know. love to you both, invite me to your sure-to-be private wedding and dont forget to have the cutest babies, um, ever.

ps- am i the last to know zooey and ben are getting married? i knew they were dating, but apparently they announced their engagement around the ring of the new year. somebody slap me.

journo 101.

hear, hear.

um, yes.

i got chills. i love watching this!

great intro.

ffffound!

i want to get back on the graphic novel train. toot-toot.

nostalgic, good ideas.

felicity, [love.]

so nice that someone wrote a show that fit so perfectly in my heart. when i get a home, i want to rewatch again, its time. i believe felicity made me feel real and qualified and not...ya know, weird. its just a fully realized show and its a shame not more people got on board. this scene, ah man. i'd forgotten.

"The truth is, I can't be with you like this. I mean, I know I said that I could, but I can't. I just can't compromise myself like that. I mean, I'm an emotional person. I feel things and I need to be able to get upset, and talk about how I'm feeling. I mean, that's just, that's who I am, and I can't change it. I don't want to. And the thing is, you knew that, you knew it, and you still pursued me. Because you want something with me. You just aren't strong enough to have it. Which in a way makes you a coward. And the saddest part is that, one day you're going to wake up, and you're going to realize what you missed and its going to be too late." - Felicity

the song that made freshman year.

...and is currently making me wish for a guitar.

hi-friend.

hi-larity.

fail.

indeed, my friends, the grass is always greener. after 5 months of nearly never thinking of nyc, my thoughts have been constantly consumed by my isolating city. i know that the appeal is the run...to run away from the hard stuff is so cleansing. i hang in the balance between feeling like i need to confront my fear of others head on while also feeling like i was doing just fine before. i wish i could command clear headspace, but i cannot. more than anything, id love to be as cool, relaxed and laid back as so many that ive met here. but dudes, i'm a fuckin' new yorker...emotional. neurotic. the facade is breaking, im tipping over and the chips are most certainly falling. at least i know i'm sane, and as sally so nicely reminded me, i'm prob the most "together" person i know. ha! but what does that even mean anymore?

i guess it means clearing the air in order to keep in that way. were smart enough to know whats toxic for us, and too many people here keep that shit around them. masochist? go down swinging.

ps- i miss you, new york. youre quite glorious, arent you? but i left you for a reason and its not time to crawl back quite yet. like a bad a relationship or an awful drug, my god. ha- learning about myself these days has been taken to an all new and quite interesting level.

and, as always...
feel completely without guilt - trust that your emotions are legitimate for you- accept needed change, accept some inaliable truths about yourself- admit them - learn to let go.

flightless bird, american mouth. iron&wine.

i go to the barn because i like the, band of horses.

Well I'd like to think I'm the mess you'd wear with pride.
Like some empty dress on the bed you've layed out for tonight.
Maybe I'll tell you sometime.

Time. Sometime.

And you were right.

Right.
You were right.
Outside, by your doorstep
In a worn out suit and tie.
I'll wait
For you to come down
Where you'll find me
Where we'll shine.

Oh.

flickr, 2.

flickr.

ffffound! [chris, 5].

image bookmarking.

new review up at paste.

a little nicer than i wanted to be.

ben lee review should be up soon, along with some other guy whose name escapes me.

ugh.

i realize im more sensitive than most on this issue, but seriously. girl looks fucking good and people need to take some chill pills. what the fuck is wrong with us!?

kendrick in maine.

enjoy it, babe. though, i'm still mad for no goodbye i hope a visit manifests. esp since ive just realized we have no pictures together.

ry skates.

want [chris, 4].

mmmmm.

dreamt about you.

my wishes for your happiness are large and grand and everything our 15 year old minds could conjure. but jesus, john. i miss your mind and most of all your heart. thanks for making me deserving of your love and thanks for showing me im capable of being loved.

last night.

i relinquished control. i put myself out there on that plank and though i had to shove my fleeting heart to the edge, i think im proud of myself. who knows what happens next? not me, but the thing here is that i allowed myself to feel something close to affection for a split second in time. thats not really new, but in this exacting experience it was all new. im sure i let my nerves get the better of me, but instead of coming away feeling less than normal (which usually comes on the strongest when i dont have control) i feel pretty enlightened. because at the end of this day and the next, i know what im worth, who i am and what i have to give to those around me. and thats a jump i cant take back. though im defensive when thinking that the positives arent more transparent to some around me, im hopeful the right ones will peer through the clouds. im more of a romantic than a loner, a secret only some seem to have unraveled.

for the very first time, im starting to contemplate what kate called out so long ago. thanks for your words, mydear. maybe you get me better than anyone (i flatter myself) or maybe youre just my number one fan that i could most def not live without. love to you always, and as you said "you are incredible and everyone who doesn't see that is just bat fucking blind." maybe soon, this archeologist will show himself. until then, soldier on...

because my god, what a life.

bring on.

Sony Pictures Classics has acquired Woody Allen's newest film, Whatever Works, and is planning a summer 2009 release. Starring Ed Begley Jr., Patricia Clarkson, Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood, the project marks Allen's first film set in his native New York since 2005's Melinda and Melinda. As per usual with Allen's films, the plot for Whatever Works remains under wraps. Sony Classics last teamed up with Allen for 1999's Sweet and Lowdown.

EW super bowl ads wrap.

always smart, so check it.

ps- jennifer hudson lip synced.

godard reaches out and touches me.

boss.

check it: good site, great Bruce animated gif.

heartbreakingly inspiring.

beautiful project. but dont take my words, lovelies. go and dig, dig, dig.
we all know how much im inspired by a good love letter.

explanation:
So I'm telling this boy, one of the boys that lots of these love letters are to, about this project. "I'm writing three hundred love letters and sending them to strangers. The letters are going to be glued to the outside of the envelopes, so that the mailman, and presumably whoever the recipient lives with, will be able to see and read them. The letters aren't to the strangers, they're to people I know." The boy looks at me. We're walking around, after work, deserted streets. He says, "I don't understand. Why are you doing this?", and I answer vaguely, talking about crossing space and the kind of intimacy that I believe is lacking from our society. And I'm left thinking: Is this project complicated or simple, idiotic or interesting?

Letters and letters and letters. Letters about a moment in time, our paths crossing, to a cute boy that passes on the street, or an old woman feeding the pigeons. Letters to old friends, "Remember that time...!" Letters to lovers, letters about fucking or falling in love for real, or love that can never work. Letters to people hurting, letters that are offers of help, fan letters. Letters to family (the hardest), letters to the people who make my day better in a hundred small ways every time I see them, crush letters, of course, big crush letters.

So: what is this project really about? Of course, it's about love, and relationships, which anyone who knows me can tell you are about the only things that I'm interested in. Well, not the only things, but two of the main ones. At the start I had one very simple goal: by the end of this project I wanted to be able to write a love letter to anyone, a stranger on the street, or someone that I have nothing but scorn for. I wanted to be able to pull out and vocalize the small thread connecting me to them, them to me, the something in them that I found beautiful or real and the something between us that existed beneath everything, acknowledged or unacknowledged, forgotten gestures and moments, strange and rare affinities. In the same way that part of art school training is training your eye to take in and process the world around you, to stop and notice things, to learn how to really see , I wanted to train my heart to really feel. Some romantics are wincing now: how can you train your heart? It's a lot like training your eye: there was always that crack in the sidewalk, you just never noticed before the way that the lines trace like lightning bolts, the starkness of the light grey concrete, and the blackness of the crevices, the perfect intricacies of it all. There are always connections between people, things to admire in people, trust that goes unnoticed, small kindnesses, shared silences. There is always so much to see, and there is always so much to feel.

There is so much we don't talk about, so much we have trouble believing in.

And of course, because this is the way things work, I'm only about halfway through the project as I write this piece, scheduled so that it will come out when the project is finished. So I can't tell you if I've accomplished my goal or not. I can tell you I am often filled with doubt, that sometimes I think I should be writing parallel hate letters, that I wonder how much of love has to do with projecting your desires onto the people around you, that I wonder if there is really anything at all at the bottom of all this. What can you do? Hope, keep trying, see if it works out. Which, in the end, is a big part of love too.

Wish me luck.

general specific [chris, 3].

[it only took 50 mins, but here they are. i think. i did it all by trained ear]

If the trials at hand are really getting you down:
We had a close call,
I didn't even see it, then another one,
And I hardly believed it at all.

What the writers say, it means shit to me now,
Plants and animals,
Appear on a bender when it's 80 degrees at the end of December,
What's going on?
Only for you and me.

In a showing of hands, who's going back to the south?
Where hungry necks that I know
In running the blender in a lightning storm
Are disguised as a blessing, I'm sure.

And knowing ahead, there comes a fork in the road,
Pants have got to go.
We're on an island on the Fourth of July,
It looks like the tide is going home.

In time, I'd find a little way to your heart,
Down to the general store for nothing specific,
Gonna wash my bones in the Atlantic shore,
Only for you and me.

old coworker.

gets her gay publicity on. good piece.

michael chambers, ss.

"May we all die stark-naked, getting blowjobs from our sweethearts, and listening to Beethoven while tripping on the greatest drug in the world. May we all die fighting for our freedoms in our own special way, exerting our independence to the last dying gasp, going down in a blaze of glory with our brothers and sisters screaming not in pain, but in rapturous ecstasy and mutual rebellion, our middle fingers fully extended as the great void takes us all where we know not. A billion points of independent wonder, like sands on the seashore, defiantly standing our place as the waves crash down around us. That's not tragedy. That's victory. That's bliss. "

you-young.

STEVE JOBS AT HOME IN 1982 — “This was a very typical time. I was single. All you needed was a cup of tea, a light, and your stereo, you know, and that’s what I had.” —Steve Jobs

amen.

jeremy, list of the day.

woody allen top 10.

still the best [soul crushingly good].

morning saved, part sally.

not the right song just yet (having issues) but enough to slap a smile so big on my sticky face you'd swear id just been whispered lifes secrets.

real one.

but thats the thing, isnt it? despite the "alone" thing (ive been focusing on this more due to a few surprised persons in my life. and i just take that as flattery and dont dig, right?) i know the real and only reason ive gotten through these years is due to Captain Planet.

you were there when noone would listen. you believed in me when i was so sure i'd fail i had one foot on the plane already. you loved me when i hated myself. you talked to me at 3AM when i couldnt sleep. you invited me to be a part of your relationships when i couldnt get a date. you believe there is a person for me and that the waiting is only an indication of how good it'll be. you laugh at me when i dont understand social situations but then you always help me. you let atlanta be my real home and you always have a place for me.

matt -- you make me feel like a woman and that says so much. i believe because of you. and i dont know what id do without your ear, its been instrumental to me when all my girls are busy. and when theyre not, too. thanks for making me laugh.
elissa -- lil' momma. you take care of me like no man ever could. i love you to the moon and back.
lynds -- youre so much like me it scares the living daylights outta me. i love watching you blossom.
jessie -- you gave me a home and a shoulder in a time when i needed it most. we all know its really your loft i love, but thanks a million over for all your girliness and classy good taste.
sally -- my heart soars with pride for you and all youve done. youre the most kickass, awesome, HOT friend ever and i'm so in platonic love with your boyfriend, i'd just die if he werent with you!

life is so unrelenting, no?

[no paris. more to come]

trailer [chris, 2].

john updike, r.i.p.

“My subject is the American Protestant small town middle class,” Mr. Updike told Jane Howard in a 1966 interview for Life magazine. “I like middles,” he continued. “It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.”

nyt.
arts beat.

i miss this bitch!

In Defense of First-Date Sex
January 23, 2009 5:05 PM by Diana Vilibert

First-date sex seems to be the dating debate du jour everywhere I look. Our dating blogger Rich Santos debated the topic with his sister Emily — though it wasn't much of a debate. They both seem to be in agreement: First-date sex is a no-no if you want a relationship outside of the bedroom with your bed-mate. Emily is all for first-meeting sex, just as long as both people are aware and okay with the fact that it may or may not turn into something more. But when it comes to dating, she says, "I’d advise to take it slowly, although part of me would like to shout, 'Women’s liberation — do what you want and be empowered!'"

Did I miss the memo that the decision to have first-date sex (or not) is now a statement you are making on behalf of all women? Empowerment comes from control and power over your own sex life and decisions, and confidence in those choices, whether or not they align with popular opinion. I happen to be a fan of first-date sex — but I don't really expect or want a standing ovation for feeling this way. But neither Emily's viewpoint or mine makes either of us a lesser feminist, and neither of us, I'm sure, means to speak for all women. If I wake up tomorrow morning to find that celibacy is all the rage, I wouldn't feel empowered by keeping my legs closed — and there's no reason anyone should feel empowered by treating sex as a fun, casual thing if they don't feel that it is for them.

But according to Rich, I've been going about it the wrong way, since "Guys like to pursue and feel like they’ve accomplished something when courting a girl...You are a prize, but no one out there deserves to be an instant winner!"

You know, I don't think I want to date a guy who pats himself on the back when he finally wins the "prize" of having sex with me. Newsflash: women like to have sex, too. We don't begrudgingly disrobe after you've passed a series of tests during a "courtship" period, so please refrain from giving yourself a mental high-five when we sleep with you.

Rich, I must know, at what point during this courtship process do you generally take home your prize? Your argument about intimacy ["People should have to earn that intimacy and people should also value that intimacy is at least somewhat sacred."] is all fine and good if you're waiting months to sleep with a girl and she feels the same way, but the word "intimacy" gets thrown around haphazardly when we're talking about sex. There are people who think kissing can be more intimate than sex--should they wait until they've been dating someone for months before kissing them, lest they haven't earned that intimacy?

And when is it "earned" — the fifth date? After you meet each other's parents? In between the appetizer and the main course? Or maybe it's different for everyone and can happen at different points with different people. You can date someone for months and feel like you barely know them, and you can feel connected to someone minutes after meeting them — who is anyone to decide that people who have sex on the first date value emotional intimacy any more or less than people who have sex on the third date, 10th date, or after walking down the aisle?

thanks for empowering the words.

wsn, nyu.

what i learned from movies, 2008.

bbc music.

check it.

NYU oscar noms.

this years alums...

foggy [chris, 1].

funny.

animal collective, my girls.

whoa. im honored.

winkwink.

denby.

no laughing matter.

brand new key.

[art]

cn.

how to get love through the ages.

ha!

i'm way less than average, apparently.

jeremy.

pretty good, friend. hope you enjoy your last day and adore EW. earn it!

someone stop me from adopting this dog.

ha! ry./paste

hilarious blog on the un-breakup of the cardinals.

yes!

flickr.

i fell in.

f. scott fitzgerald

It’s not a slam at you when people are rude, it’s a slam at the people they’ve met before.

plath.

I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love’s not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I’ll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time…

ha!

jess-ica.

got interviewed. loveher.

bachelor hilarity.

no shame, i love the bachelor. and so did a few people i used to work with. one of those people, kristen baldwin, is blogging about the show on EW.com. and its fucking hilarious.

"So nope, I'm not going to get worked up about it. Fool me once, Bachelor producers, shame on you. Fool me 12 seasons in a row... Good God, what happened to my life?"

Ry says goodbye.

"never become that if you choose this path- if you go this route with your art. never listen to those loud dissatisfied bystanders who only want to see you fail because that will be entertaining for that moment. hold fast to your dreams, hold faster to your heart and never step out of the light of that love that made you whole. i did. and i know better now. and better late than never i suppose"

get it while its there.

lauren find #1.

mossip. gossip blog for people cooler than you.

stuff journos like.

yes, yes, UH YES.

black cab sessions.

how did i not know about this?

...then butch walker melted my heart a lil'.

ben kweller made my palms sweat.

quote-o, fave-o.

(found this as an intro to an old story i wrote for a tween site that is still the most commented thing i've ever produced)

Alyssa: You know, I didn't just heed what I was taught, men and women should be together, it's the natural way, that kind of thing. I'm not with you because of what family, society, life tried to instill in me from day one. The way the world is, how seldom it is that you meet that one person who just gets you - it's so rare. My parents didn't really have it. There were no examples set for me in the world of male-female relationships. And to cut oneself off from finding that person, to immediately halve your options by eliminating the possibility of finding that one person within your own gender, that just seemed stupid to me. So I didn't. But then you came along. You, the one least likely. I mean, you were a guy. And while I was falling for you I put a ceiling on that, because you were a guy. Until I remembered why I opened the door to women in the first place: to not limit the likelihood of finding that one person who'd complement me so completely. So here we are. I was thorough when I looked for you. And I feel justified lying in your arms, 'cause I got here on my own terms, and I have no question there was some place I didn't look. And for me that makes all the difference.

-Chasing Amy by Kevin Smith

GQ funny.

are you a dick? putz? weenie? penis? cock?

winters love.

a song that never stops giving.

the album that NEVER quits giving.

i've said it many times before and i may keep saying it long into the future. band of horses "cease to begin" is one of the few records i always want to listen to, never skipping a song. i'm really beating myself up for missing those end of the year shows now.

(PS -- happy birthday christina, baby!)

ladies who blog.

http://www.lemondrop.com/2009/01/06/lifespy-girls-who-blog-about-music/

we all have days like this.

sorry i've been a bit MIA. lots of work to do before i leave for France...of course all i want to do is read, walk around town and eat glorious southern food. oh, and sleep. yeah. had to wake up at 7:30 this morning and after two weeks of sleeping in let me just tell you, it wasnt pretty. feeling odd being back in the office but will hopefully check off my to do list this week. last night saw Matt's 2 year ATL anniversary which we celebrated with drinks at a new bar. said goodbye to Shawn, if only for three weeks and eyed the suspicious return of a dear friends former lover. oh, how we torture each other. SOW, it seems a certain someone has left georgia without so much as a wave. i hope your sunny life is well composed, my dear. i promise its all sticky heart but sincere smiles from this spot.

and: got Ra's new book in the mail today. its out in a few months, if you can believe it. also waiting for the media blitz that will be Josh's tome. dudes, seriously need to get my books on the shelves, money to my lenders and my foot out of my mouth.