These shoes are $300...let's get em!

I do not, by any means, love shopping. I'm too impatient to wait in line. Browsing makes me bored. In fact, just being in several stores gives me a headache, especially craft store, like Jo-ann Fabrics. I hate Jo-ann Fabrics. I actually call it Jo-ann Stupids. Anyhow, I really have to be in the right mood to shop, and I do best on my own. 

But sometimes...sometimes there will be a day when I can handle it. Actually, I can more than handle it. On some days, I effing rock the shopping. Like today. I've had it in my head for the last two or three weeks that I "need new summer shoes." I don't know where it comes from. Payless commercials, probably. I'm so easily manipulated. But also, my old flip flops are so old and crappy that you can clearly see almost-black footprints on the soles of the lighter colored ones. It's from all the mud I walk through, apparently. I knew I needed new flip flops, in various colors, and maybe something else fancy. I'm totally not that guy, or like, Carrie from Sex and the City, but really. Shoes are hot! Anyhow, today I had about an hour break, and I was teaching out by the mall, so duh...I went shoe shopping.

After today, I've realized that I buy shoes as if I'm binge drinking. I bought 9 new pairs of shoes in less than an hour. Granted, 5 of these were flip flops (4 of which cost $2.50 each). The other four were the cute fancy kinds. But listen! Before you judge...I only spent $55. On 9 pairs of shoes! Come on now, that's an amazing deal! It averages $6 a pair, which equals $3 a shoe. Now that's affordable.

 

God. Really? Shoes? Sometimes I don't even know who I am anymore. 



In other news...

I have thrice pointed the remote control at the television this evening, trying to turn down the volume, and I've been holding it backwards.

I have not been able to correctly spell the word "beautiful" on the first try for about two weeks.

And also...you know that moment when a person or a name or a picture that once made your heart race and pound now just makes your eyes roll?  Yeah. That's what's happening.

More DeVotchKa...ATL edition

My sister's blog about DeVotchKa!

Please read! There are beautiful pictures, words, and video.

xxoo, Reem

DeVotchKa

I honestly cannot find the words. I've been trying, but it's not happening. All I can figure out to say is that I will never not see them. I will never be near them and miss them. I've never had a band in my head like this before.

Tuba Girl smiles while playing the souzaphone. Some people might say that this is just the way you have to hold your mouth while playing, but I still think she's smiling. And Nick's face was the most beautiful thing I've seen in forever. Who knew that you could fall in love when you see a man raise his eyebrows to hit the high notes? 

And thank god Jacob is so tall, because during "Transliteration" I looked up at him but ended up looking past him to the tall windows and just as the song swelled and the music grew and everything came together, more than 50 white birds flew outside the window in loops and figure eights, flapping their wings all crazy and swooping around each other and almost hitting each other. And as the song died down, one by one, they disappeared until the sky was clear and empty and silent. 

cool, refreshing manure

Today I was driving to Deforest for a couple of piano lessons. I don't go out there very often. It's kind of a special circumstance, so I only go every few weeks. Anyhow, DeForest is just north of Madison, and you have to drive north through some farmy areas. Today was a weird day, weather-wise; cold at points, balmy at others, windy, sunny, rainy, big black clouds. Weird.

So I'm driving with my windows all the way down, about a mile past the airport and suddenly it hits me. The smell of cows. Manure. Poo. And I start smiling. And then I'm laughing out loud. Crazy lady in DeForest. Here we go...

There is something about the farm smell that gets me every time. I remember hearing somewhere that of the five senses, smell (or the olfactory sense for you big-worded nerds) recalls memories better than any of the other senses. As of today I'm pretty sure it's true.

There was Greenmeadow Farm somewhere near Alpine Valley where we'd go every October to get our pumpkins. We all had the chance to milk a cow there, and I lied and said I'd already tried it, so I didn't need to again. I was totally freaked out about touching a cow's wiener.

There was Wagner's Farm in Glenview, about ten blocks from where I grew up. That smell didn't travel very far, but when it was strong, it was strong.

There was Auntie Bridget's farm in Ireland where I would sit and watch the cows being milked by machines, 30 or so at a time. I distinctly remember watching one of them pooping in a steady arc (sorry, I can't help but be graphic when talking about poo. It's in my genes). I'll never forget what that looked like. This was always my favorite farm, even though I almost suffocated when I fell down between those round bails of hay, stacked four high on each side, and had to climb back out. I barely remember...this is what moms tells me.

There was every other farm that we'd go to or drive by in Ireland. We'd squeal and roll up the windows, but once the smell hit, it was in the car forever. You just can't get rid of it after that.

Regardless of the nauseating, foul associations these memories may seem to carry, I must admit...I'm really not that disgusted. Actually...god, how do I say this? There is something about the smell of farms and the smell of manure that is strangely comforting to me. And refreshing, in a way. And, apparently after today, I know that the smell of manure brings a sense of hilarity.

Seriously. After a strange week, and a weird, surprisingly stuffy day, apparently this was exactly what I needed. A good, strong whiff of manure.

Now that's the way to a girl's heart.

why it all rules.

Tara asked me tonight why I hadn't written a blog in so long. I guess what's happening is I have a billion things to write but they're all disconnected and have little to do with one another. So if you all don't mind, I'm going to go ahead and write you a list of all the things I wanted to tell you. Oh the hilarity. Get ready, bitches.

*This weekend in Chicago, my family celebrated an early Mother's Day at a fancy french restaurant called Chez Joel. It's owned by these handsome Moroccan brothers, one of whom (probably my future husband, even though he's married, waa waa) is named Sufjan. Sexy. Anyhow, the food was delicious. The giant bottle of wine was delicious. And my father was drunk. He was hilarious; right before dessert, he stated "I'm going to try to stand up now," wobbled towards the bathroom, and waved his fingers at the waiter who stood aside to let him by. I can only imagine what he may have said to him. Plus, earlier in the evening, he was trying to think of the word for Metrosexual and could only come up with "Sexopolitan." That's right. Sexopolitan.

*I ask my grandfather in Arabic how he's doing, and he responds, in Arabic "better than you." In English, I ask him why, to which he replies "because the sky is high." In English. He then laughs like Dr. Hibbert.

*This morning as I'm driving to the west side, I stop at the red light at Mineral Point and Grand Canyon Drive. A man rides by on a bicycle. He looks like a pretty regular bike rider...one pant leg tucked into his sock, helmet on his head. Oh, except he's about 80 years old and has a long beard that looks like this, and he's smoking a pipe. A pipe, guys! On a bike! Stupendous.

*I go to the Car Care Clinic to get an oil change and some other work done. As I wait, I read People Magazine, duh. I have gossip to catch up on. As I read the diet secrets of today's hottest celebs, something catches my eye. This:


Oh my effing god. Romaine lettuce. Juice made from romaine lettuce? Are you for real? Don't get me wrong...I love and want the Jack Lalanne Juicer as much as the next guy, but romaine lettuce? Can you even imagine what that would taste like? Lettuce juice? Ugh. Barf city.

*We found a new family song. I believe it's called "Rock and Roll Part 2" and it was written by Gary Glitter. We decided that if, at any time, any member of the family starts singing the chorus (it goes like "danana NANANANANA!" you know what I'm talking about), everybody else has to stop what they're doing and respond with "HEY!" It's required from now on. Rules is rules, my friends. That's just how it goes. Fortunately, the rules were followed at our Easter dinner. In addition, Emil managed to recreate the guitar solo using only his mouth and his air guitar skills, and Sara managed to record the whole thing. You've got to see this.

*Emil dressed up like a foreign exchange student, but not on purpose.
*Luai made himself one tiny egg-shaped boob.
*And Sara finally earned her very first Certificate of Participation in Mario Party 6.
Well done, everybody. Well done.

humanoid

I saw the original one a few months ago when I looked up my first name on youtube. You know, I just wanted to make sure there weren't any secret videos on the internizzle that I didn't know about. Just playing it safe, babies! Safety rules.

Anyhow, I was recently informed of this new version. The B version. New and improved beyond belief. You won't believe my skills.



I apologize in advance for not removing the cap on the coke bottle. What a jackass.

I knew where I was...I was in the jungle baby.

So. Thursday nights, eh? Thursday nights are good nights. There are always shows, or parties, or special cheap drink deals. And on Thursday nights, I'm usually pretty tired after a ten hour work day. There has to be something really spectacular going on for me to go out. Tonight, that thing was Appetite For Destruction, a Guns n' Roses cover band. 

Yes, I worked a lot today. And yes, it's been another exhausting week. And yes, no, whatever, I had nobody to go with (what the hell is your problem, everybody?). And yes, it started pouring rain outside. But how could I not go? This is the fake version of my favorite band ever in the world, playing at the Majestic, a club I've been meaning to check out when it's not like 18 and over dance night, and I can't miss that.

Slowly but surely, I started to receive signs. My friend Shane called and said he was going. I remembered I had free tickets waiting for me, courtesy of the wonderful dane101, and even my mother encouraged me to go. "Comb your hair and put on a little lipstick and go have fun" was her exact advice, actually. And so I went. And thank effing god I did.

I've seen a few GNR cover bands. I remember being 22 and going to see one in Addison, Illinois, with Sam, my boyfriend at the time. We were both huge GNR fans, and we drove almost an hour to this shitty roadhouse-type bar in the middle of nowhere and waited around for an hour, getting wasted on whiskey and sneaking out to the parking lot to make out. This band was called Night Train, I think, as I'm sure many GNR cover bands are named. "Axl" came out in tiny bike shorts and a bandana and I fell in love, much to the dismay of Sam. Slash was a little too tall and skinny, and the rest of the band wasn't even dressed up (what the eff dudes?), but goddamn. They played the shit out of those songs. And a few songs into the set, I had enough whiskey in me to believe that maybe I was really watching Axl perform. In Addison, Illinois. Yeah.

The second GNR cover band I saw was called Rocket Queen. I was fortunate enough to see this band in Hotlanta with my sister Sara and cousin Layla the night before the infamous annual Halloween party. We were also in the company of a POISON cover band, Fallen Angel, who opened the show. We began to do it up, as per usual when any members of the family get together; shots, drinks, beers, shots, beers...you know. By the time Rocket Queen got on stage, we'd been at the drink for quite some time and were probably about 60 sheets to the wind. Because of this, a lot of the details of this show are hazy. I do remember a couple of things...first of all, "Axl" was a woman. She was a badass. She even hit the low notes in Mr. Brownstone. Hell yeah. Secondly, I remember "Slash" drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels that he kept onstage at his feet. Not one to miss a single moment of opportunity, I grabbed the bottle during a guitar solo, took a few swigs, and passed it on to my lady partners in crime. The rest of the night is a mystery to me.

The next night, at the Halloween party, all I drank was water. I was dying for people to leave by 11 pm. Layla, in the midst of a very lovely conversation with a handsome man, yawned the biggest yawn I've ever seen, right in his face. And earlier in the day, I think one of us may have vomited at Burger King. I won't say who. But I'm pretty sure it happened.

Anyhow. This is getting long. Okay, so last night, I saw yet another GNR cover band: Appetite for Destruction. These names are so unoriginal! Sara and I have an idea already for our GNR cover band. I can't tell you until I okay it with her. Appetite for Destruction at least looked the part. Axl was incredibly spot on. Even his face looked like the real Axl. He wore a red kilt and backwards baseball cap, as well as the "Charlie Don't Surf" t-shirt and those Nike high top sneakers. Awesome. And real hair too! Slash was pretty good...he smiled a little too much for me (one time was too much...Slash doesn't smile!), but his guitar playing was unbelievable. The solos were impeccable.  Duff was fantastic, but maybe only like 2 inches taller than me. Izzy was perfect. And then there was the drummer. Yes, they introduced him as Steven "Popcorn" Adler, but honestly, he looked more like a monkey-faced, skinny-ass Matt Sorum. Go ahead and call me a nerd...I take this shit seriously, and it's my effing blog. Eat it.


They played a pretty great set of songs. They started with "Night Train," "It's So Easy," "Don't Cry," and "Out to Get Me." The music was tight as hell, and the vocals were pretty right on. I nearly lost my mind when Axl started singing the lyrics "you're crazy bitch, but you fuck so good I'm on top of it." Is he about to sing fucking Buckcherry? Is he for real? Oh wait, no. He's just introducing the slow version of "You're Crazy." Don't worry. That was it.

They played most of what I wanted to hear. Unfortunately there was no piano onstage, hence no November Rain. I really kind of thought this would have been the night where my fantasy was to be fulfilled. You know, the one where the GNR cover band is onstage and has somehow forgotten how to play the piano part of November Rain, and they look out into the crowd and say "Is there anybody out there that knows how to play November Rain on the piano?" And I slowly raise my hand and say "I...I do!" And then I rock and they all fall in love with me. 

The crowd was weird as hell. But, you know, Guns N' Roses brings all sorts of people together. That's just how it goes. Shane got a couple of videos of the crowd, which I'll put up later. There were some people in their early 20s grinding up on each other and booty dancing during "Sweet Child of Mine." There was a group of 5 or 6 guys who were moshing and pushing each other during "Paradise City," but were also kind of giving each other backrubs at the same time. There were a select few men kind of standing by themselves, playing air guitar from time to time. One douchebag wore a Metallica shirt which, if you know anything, was a total faux pas. And then, of course, there was that one guy who hangs out the Annex who kind of looks like Slash, but kind of foreign, and asks for coke all the time. You know he was there...how could he not be? 

I'd say the most hilarious part of the night is when I recognized the opening strains of "Get in the Ring," a song from Use Your Illusion II. In this song, Axl challenges several individuals, including various publishers of magazines who are "printing lies, starting controversy," to "get in the ring" so he can kick their bitchy little asses. And they actually covered that one. I don't know...I just couldn't really take it seriously after that.

Regardless. I don't think I'll ever miss seeing a GNR cover band. In fact, one of my favorite new bands, Yeasayer, was playing with Man Man at the High Noon a few blocks away, and a bunch of my friends were there, but that wasn't even an option. Go to a cooler club with two great bands and friends? No thanks, there's a fake band playing over here. I'm all set.

I think they could have done better than "Surf n Turf"

Okay, so I've never ordered it. I have no interest. Because of the "surf" part, mostly. I just don't like seafood or fish, and I think the "surf" refers to either shrimp or lobster, right? I'm just not that interested.

Regardless, the term "Surf n Turf" has always really annoyed me. I just think they could have done better than that. I mean I get that "surf" has to do with water, and shrimp or lobster or whatever comes from the sea, and yes, that is where you surf. Okay, fine. It's far-fetched, but alright. Then we have "turf." Turf? Like land? Because steak comes from cows and they live on the land? Or live off the land, I guess. I just think there has to be something better, you know?

After some extensive research, i.e. looking it up on Wikipedia , I found a somewhat satisfying answer of "Reef n Beef," which is what they call it in Australia. That's pretty damn good, if you ask me.

I keep thinking to myself, though, maybe I can do better! Maybe I can coin that new phrase everybody has been searching for! But, frankly, I'm not doing very well so far. Here's all I've come up with:

*Fish n Dish
*Swims n Tims (I don't know, the cow could be named Tim)
*Sleet n Meat (Sleet is a type of rain, which has to do with water)
*Shrimp n Gimp
*Shrimp n Pimp
*Shrimp n Wimp (These are all just pretty funny to me)
*Fins n Grins (ever seen a cow smile? Yeah, neither have I)

Genia came up with a couple of her own, but I think forgot about the whole rhyming thing:

*Water n Land
*Prairie n Ocean
*Seafood n Steak

I don't know. You got any?

why I love youtube

All I did was search "biggest douchebag" and this is what came up.

eggs and hickeys and the internizzle...a grody combination

For some reason whenever I make egg salad, I use no less than 4 bowls. It seems almost impossible to use less. First I boil the eggs in a pot. Let's count that as one. The when they're done I pour cold water over them and let them sit in more cold water for awhile. That can be done in the same pot. Still one. But then comes the shelling. I try and condense my container usage and get one clean bowl to put the shelled eggs in. There was definitely a time where I had one bowl for the shell-less eggs and one for the shells themselves. This is in addition to the original bowl the eggs were in. Then, when the shelling process is finished, I need yet another bowl to mash up the eggs in. I almost always pick a big bowl to allow for lots of mashing and mixing in the mayonnaise and the secret flavors. Then it's finally done, but I need a final bowl to put the egg salad in. This could be either a bowl or a tupperware. Either way, that's four bowls at the very least. I'm sure there are ways to condense, or make this process easier in some way, but meh. It works fine. 

In other news, I cannot for the life of me figure out how to do the email subscription feed thing on my blog the correct way. I have done it wrong three times in the last 20 minutes. Sara? Tara? Any tips? Want to just do it for me please? I would like to get that going here because I have been meaning to move my main blog from myspace to here anyhow, and now is as good a time as any, eh?

One last thing. Today one of my students, a kind of naughty and inappropriate one, asked me why I was wearing a scarf. I told him it was "part of the whole outfit," to which he replied "oh, so it's not to cover a hickey?" Goddamn...my response time on that one was probably sub par, since all I was able to do was stare at him for about 10 seconds, wondering how a 13 year old knows what a hickey is, and say to him "That's inappropriate, dude. Totally inappropriate." I'm getting so old.