who knew…
...that big ol' dorks could rock your face off?
Seriously, if you are not in possession of The National - Alligator in some form already, you are dead to me.
without a trace
Every time Without A Trace cuts to a scene in the office, a very shrill, very aggravating phone rings twice beneath the conversation. Every time. It's terrible. WE GET THAT THEY'RE BUSY, ALREADY! We don't need an unanswered phone to pick up on it...
Just had to get that off my chest...
the umbrella sequence
Sometimes, you find yourself composing a blog post as you cut and paste the links and put together the material you want to post. And sometimes, when you hear these fledging blog posts, you want to punch your own teeth out for use an analogy that, by now, ought to be outright illegal. Treasonous, even. Alas, it's something I have to do in this case.
So, The Umbrella Sequence (The US) sound a lot like Radiohead. Radiohead playing a show on valium. Well, at the very least, the lead singer sounds a lot like Thom Yorke.
They have a little shockwave radio on their website I'm going to try to embed here. Let's see if it works, shall we?
Check out their MySpace for more samples.
decisions, decisions…
I've never been a big one for change. I prefer the comfort of the mundane to this so-called "excitement" of change. So when facing down this giant decision whether to accept a new job in San Francisco, I'm filled with an anxiety that transcends the emotional. It's nauseating.
On the one hand, I need a change of scenery. I'm profoundly unhappy here at the moment, and there's really just more of the same on the horizon. Ironically, I am about to complain that my life is one big cycle, wherein I wake up, go to work, do some stuff, come home, do very little, go to bed. All the while being fat. Yeah, that's my life. This would seem satisfactorily mundane to the untrained eye, which might miss the nuance of suckage that's built-in. I contribute this to very low self-esteem, which is less of a lament and more of an unconcerned observation. The problem is that self-esteem is not a lease you can break, a wardrobe you can consider, or lost on a new route to work. It's most certainly something you take with you when, incidentally, you leave behind the comfortable -if suckably mundane- support structure you've come to know and love. That's the one hand.
On the other hand, my low self-esteem has a lot to do, I think, with my continued existence in this all-too-pretty, all-too-young town. And single. I'm out of my element. In a gloriously outfitted apartment, to be sure, but alone all the same. There's also the exchange of one job for another, and one region for another, where I may find myself in an environment more conducive to the self-improvement I long for. And who knows, it could be fun.
There's a lot more to this but, I'm not feeling it right now. I've go to go think. My next post on the matter will (hopefully) not be so sappy.