September 08, 2004

Rina says she likes a song or a band a ton and then just listens the shit out of them and gets tired of them in a week. Songs go from being The Best Thing Ever Committed To mp3 to a victim of "Hey Ya!" syndrome in as much time as it takes you to hit "play" on your iPod. This is one of the aspects of my personality I am actually proud of as opposed to laughingly forgiving of: I put things on the back burner lest I play them out. I listened to "Anthems For A Seventeen Year Old Girl" by Broken Social Scene like three times back in March, then more or less forgot about it. Then I cued it up again one of the first nights I was in my new dorm as part of my new tradition: lying on my hardwood floor (which I am quickly populating with dirty socks and dead peanut butter jars), head on a pillow my ex-roommate left behind when he moved back to Kansas or wherever, new headphones on, looking out at where people in ties go to work during the day. This is especially nice at the end of a drunken evening, and this is probably what it was. And the universe opened up, like it does for a good song at the right time, and my body reminded me of how many nerve endings I have and what they can do when prompted by crescendo.

I am getting an ipod with some of my Professional Acting Money and that will probably prompt more faggy writing about listening to music by myself.

I am missing The Shins at NYU's Mystery Concert because I have my first Drawing class that night and I told myself I wasn't one of those people who hate it when a band I have loved for a long time gets a shit-ton of new fans but if you've only heard them on the Garden State soundtrack then you just...well, at least you better not have taken all the free tickets 'cause you half-dig "Know Your Onion," just in case I get up my ballses and decide I want to ditch out on Drawing.



Last week we played to 1,000 kids total spread over two shows. Nine and eleven o'clock. Lines were around the building twice for both shows. It was some of the most fun I've ever had.

I took a douchey picture of myself makin' a poopy face to commemorate the occassion.


My roommate and I never cross paths (dude has his own room) and I don't really have to wake up earlier than 11 any day of the week 'cept Mondays, but I have a Friday class by absolute necessity and I want to drop my Psych class, and with it the real-student work which it alone brings to my schedule; I have a thick stack of free Chipoltle burrito cards and dining hall food tastes as awful as I remember, if not worse.

It really is a good life. I could stand to get made out with more but then you guys would never get your poetry collection, would you?

Posted by DC at September 8, 2004 01:32 AM