I believe I said that

Good God am I tired. I didn't get very much sleep last night.

This morning I put the kettle on the stove, and then laid down on top of my bed again, in that way that I do, when I'm pretending that I'm not going to fall asleep again, but really I am. I had some weird dreams. There was some dude . . . some older guy, some man, with whom I was living and sleeping. It was creepy. I also had a dream about my car, but I don't quite remember what happened. I had a bad dream about my car a few weeks ago: I dreamed that I tried to get into the back seat, and I could barely fit my legs in there. There was no leg room! It was like a non-expanded-cab pickup truck! It was horrible. I woke up in a cold sweat. If there is one thing my car is about, it is leg room in the back seat.

This past weekend was Kelly's bachelorette party, and it was a whole lot of fun. Gina organized the weekend, and she did a great job. Friday night was at the Casbah in Atlantic City (we stayed at the Sands: don't stay at the Sands. They tried to make us pay something like $120 more per room than we were quoted). Saturday the ladies detoxed on the beach in AC, and then went to dinner in Margate. Saturday night was swimming and girl talk at the Manse. I got really really drunk and MAN do I love me some dishin', I will tell you what. I got pretty sick later in the evening (or morning, if you want to look at it that way), but it wasn't a big deal, and then I felt really great on Sunday, so I didn't mind.

I skipped out on the beach and dinner, because I had to make it in to work during the weekend. (Work is crazy). (Work also bites). However, I made the mistake of going home for lunch, before heading into the office. I didn't feel very well (my tummy), and I kept lounging on the couch with the cat, waiting to feel better, and watching the hours tick by: the later I went in, the later I had to stay, you know? Finally I laid down for a bit. I was actually good and got up 20 minutes later, but I felt worse -- finally a hangover headache, what a delay on that one -- so I said fuckit. I'll go in tomorrow.

THEN I received an email from the lovely petit_chou, informing me of a They Might Be Giants show in Penns Landing that afternoon. Now, I had been aware of the existence of such a show; but since I was originally going to be in Atlantic City for most of the weekend, I didn't think it would be possible to make it. But it was happening at 6:30! The ladies' dinner reservation was at 8! I could totally go!

I called a few cats who couldn't make it, so I went over to Penn's Landing by myself. It was a really nice show. And it was outside, and you know how much I enjoy being outside. Oh man and they had Captain-and-Cokes! That was so totally awesome! You know me, I can't have fun unless I'm drinking, but I don't really like beer, let alone watery beer in plastic bottles! So that was great. And they were giving out orange foam hands that said "They Might Be Giants" on them to all the kids. And I wrote down the set list because I'm a dork. And I attempted to anticipate the set list because I'm really a dork, but I wrote nown nine (9) songs and they only played five (5) that were on the list. But they didn't play "Istanbul"! I think that was the first (of over, what, twenty?) They Might Be Giants show I've ever attended where they didn't play "Istanbul."

They sure as hell played "The Guitar" and "Particle Man," though.

And man, even though it was a kids' show? The ONLY song I heard them play from the ABCs album was "Alphabet of Nations" (totally awesome, by the way) and the only songs they played from No! were "John Lee Supertaster" and "Clap Your Hands." Weird.

After the concert I went back home and took a nap, and headed over to the Manse (and the hot tub) at around one. Was up really late, worked in the office all afternoon, and I can't remember what I did Sunday evening, but I imagine it involved sitting around.

On Monday Jeff chose Diner for Movie Night. I like that movie. I hadn't seen it in years. I'm going to start saying that people are "death" when they are really hot because that sounds so serious.

I'm listening to Mink Car on my computer speakers, and there's this wakka-wakka-wakka in "Bangs" that I swear I've never heard before. Ooh, and now there's a . . . knocking sound in "Mr. Xcitement" that I've never heard before! How can this be? Does my car stereo, unbeknownst to me, suck a nut? I'll have to investigate this further.

But the thing that I came here to say was about Holidayland, an album given to me for Christmas. I put it on, and "Santa Claus" was eh, "Santa's Beard" I've always liked but it's very familiar . . . and then "Festival of Lights" came on. There's just something about a brand-new John Linnell song that makes me so very happy and so very sad all at once. Happy because I have a new John Linnell song, sad because the man seems so sad all the time. It's a great song, small and tender and naive and brilliant. And then "O Tenenbaum" -- I want to marry this man.

But really I don't. I mean, if I were married to John Linnell, I'd always be looking at John Flansburgh and thinking, "sure my John is a genius, but John can really fucking rock," and if I were married to John Flansburgh, I'd always be looking at John Linnell and thinking, "sure my John is 'cool' [by very nerdy standards, conceded], but John is just so misunderstood and genius". So I guess I'll just have to marry Dan Miller. I like his hat.

I love listening to albums that I haven't listened to in a while; ones that in my mind are very decent albums with some very good songs; and rediscovering a bloody AMAZING record.

Last night and this morning I listed to They Might Be Giants. There are a few throwaway songs that are interesting only because they're weird and different; "Toddler Hiway", for example. But gawdamn, there are some good songs on there. Like "The Day", and "Absolutely Bill's Mood". And that's not even counting all the old faves, like "Puppet Head" and "She's An Angel" (perhaps the only TMBG love song that doesn't have a tragic ending -- assuming that no one ever found out, and he didn't end up throwing his body off a building) and "Don't Let's Start" ("everybody dies frustrated and sad, and that is beautiful" -- genius!).

I don't listen to music like I used to. The reason these albums get rediscovered is because I only really listen to music in my car, and I don't carry all my CD's with me, so a select 24 or so get stuck in the book in my car and cycled through again and again until I finally remember to take my travel book up to my aparment and switch out the discs.

I think maybe I'm old and set in my ways, as far as music goes. Isn't that awful? But I just don' t have the patience to listen to new music. The only new albums I buy are when artists I know I like release new ones; and half the time I don't have the patience to listen to them. I think I listened to The Fragile, like, once. And Kid A, while I like it, is really quite unsingable, which means it's not much suited to be my driving-around soundtrack.

Back in high school, I listened to music constantly: I think because I hid in my room a lot, doing a little homework and talking a lot on the phone, much like most teenagers. When I did watch TV, it was usually MTV, which I swear used to play videos once.

Nowadays, it's MY living room, with no infuriating parents or brother, so I can sit in it and watch TV without distraction. I don't have homework to do, I don't read enough, and I can't sleep very well with music on. MTV sucks, and Rolling Stone is too big, so I have *no* idea what's going on in the music world. I used to know everything. Even -- particularly -- about artists I didn't like. So that I could tell you exactly WHY Alanis Morrisette should be shot in the eye. Now I'm ignorant about Christina Aguliera's background. I still know she should be shot in the eye, but I haven't bothered to learn about her (ongoing) childhood. I couldn't give two shits. And besides all that bubblegum crap, which everybody hates anyway, the music that kids have to listen to today is not my cup of tea. Kids these days! With their loud guitars and all that screaming. Limp Biz-kit? Give me a break. I sound like my grandpa. I don't care. I'm going to make a very good crotchety old lady.

My point was left by the wayside somewhere around the second paragraph, but that's all right. It's lunch time. The weekend's almost here. Time for my apple. Later.