Archive | September, 2010

but i wouldn’t let you think so

20 Sep

Interesting day today.
I learned the bassline to 2080, that song is fucking addicting and has been stuck in my head for at least two weeks now. I may have to buy that album, whatever it’s called.

Almost done with my Yellow Book. Swell. Scans will be put up on Issuu when I’m ready for it. I’ll post the link here.

Will write later.

yeah, yeah

20 Sep

through every pane

19 Sep

A vapour cloud alarm is not really the best way to begin your day.
A vapour cloud alarm that goes on for at least ten minutes, all the while releasing tons of flammable hydrocarbons into the air, leading your father to call and tell you to get the fuck out of there: that’s worse.
Currently sitting in my mom’s office in Christiansted, my hair is a mess, I am wearing a purple dress and silver Sperrys. I feel icky. I am also worried about my dog, who we left at home.
It’s been a bad morning.

we’ll call it mine

18 Sep

Title should really be “let’s call it a learning experience” or some such, but meh.
I went to a party tonight. Its lasting influences on me seem to include a temporary dose of tinnitus, a bit of a buzz that mainly manifests in my speech, and a healthy respect for those lovely folks who entertain me by being drunk/on their way to being drunk.
Well: I am going to use initials instead of names, since I have no idea if persons who would find this incriminating are reading this. Better to be on the safe side, I’m gonna say.

New milestone: comforted my first drunk person! H, you are fabulous, but please try not to be so floppy when you’re smashed. You kept going “I’m such a bad person for drinking, you, you’re a good girl, I, you should be proud of yourself,” and I tried to support you as well as I could. I met your boyfriend. He seems okay.

SECOND milestone: did a “shot” with G and J. I put “shot” in quotation marks because I kind of poured about a quarter of it out on the floor before, drank 3/4 of what was left, poured the rest out on the grass when you weren’t looking. Sorry, guys, for being a deceitful drinker. Maybe another time. With classier liquor.

Third milestone: or well, not really a milestone but I think it opened my eyes: P and J were forcefed pot brownies by another P. The first P mentioned had also taken several shots of tequila, I’m not sure about J. Anyway, they were bumbling around together high as kites, talking about stuff that I found a little disarmingly unfunny, trying to find the source of the original brownie provider. I tried to get them to write me poetry whilst high. They decided to do so on a tree. I think I am starting to like drunk people.
P is a small guy. He had 3 tequila shots. Tomorrow morning is going to suck for him. I doubt he’ll remember anything.

Fourth: A came up to me yelling about “CANADIAN!!!” and waving a cigarette around. I smiled back. He was drunk, or didn’t understand any of my witty banter. It was ridiculously witty, I am disappointed.

Fifth: ignored K. Suprisingly easy. I think she was hitting on either W or J or C. Possibly all three, though C is in a relationship and was also very drunk.

Sixth: I tried to help P up. It didn’t work. She had a lit cigarette in her hand, I pried it loose and put it out in the grass. I’ve never held a lit cigarette before, let alone someone else’s. The filter end was all sticky and ewwww. She clutched onto my hand and I tried to hoick her onto her feet, but she did the same floppy boneless thing as H and slumped back onto the grass. Hum.

Seventh: Saying “let’s hug it out” to pretty much any intoxicated person will make them completely docile.

Eighth: J-on-his-way-to-being-smashed is scary as fuck. Loud, in your face, drinking Cruzan Confusions and vodka and cranberry, prancing around with MR and EM and others. He did not even try for intelligent conversation.

Synopsis: I like some people when they’re drunk (ie PC, J, W), I dislike others.

Also, one of these days I am eating a brownie and then writing poetry, dammit.

a routine malaise

17 Sep

My father and I do not often see eye-to-eye.
Case in point: today, I get home, have a snack, lay on my bed and draw, check facebook, grab my guitar, go into the kitchen. There are dishes and crap on the counter. I put the crap away, check the dishwasher and find it’s full. Sigh to myself, put dirty dishes in the sink, proceed to RAWKKKK.
Six hours later my dad bursts into my room and asks in his angry voice “when did you get home?”
I reply “4 ‘o clock.”
“So you were here for at least two hours. The dishes aren’t done.”
“I was at work from seven to six. Do you know how long that is? I was at WORK for eleven hours.”
At this point I start thinking “that’s nice, dad, that’s your job,” but saying that would be a very Bad Idea.
He proceeds to glare at me and step out of my room.

My parents are really super overprotective, my dad is a neat freak, and my mom is only really concerned with what I look like. I don’t love my parents so much as am afraid of them, since I really don’t see what is wrong with what I’ve done.

Anyway, parents aside, it is the weekend, tomorrow is Matt Car’s party that he’s been talking about for weeks now, I don’t know why but hell I’m going anyway. Paulie is trying to coerce me into doing shots of Kahlua with her, but I’m going to very much abstain. I have no idea if this will be a good party or not. I might just stay home.

Not much else to report atm. I keep thinking my dad’s opening the door to yell at me more. It is hell on my nerves.


our ignoble caste

15 Sep

False Priest verdict: Decent.
I say this for two reasons, one of which is the fact that I actually like the majority of songs on this album, though some parts of them make me grit my teeth in a little bit of agony. Still. I have reasonable faith that in a few weeks I’ll get used to it.
Secondly, the thing that most bugged me about this album is the total lack of any structure. Take Hissing Fauna for an example: you have the first half of the album, up to The Past Is A Grotesque Animal, and then the second half, which is radically different. Skeletal Lamping repeats this, the turning point either being An Eludarian Instance or Gallery Piece. I enjoy this structure, it reminds me who I’m listening to, it gives me benchmarks so I know what song I’m at.
But False Priest lacks this subtle touch, which kind of throws me off completely. The songs begin to blend together- after
Coquet Coquette, pretty much everything sounds the same- a phenomenon I’ve never, ever heard in an of Montreal album. Quite frankly, I’m disappointed.
But, leaving album structure aside, the lyrics reach new heights of what-the-fuckery, Kevin Barnes decides to throw in some quite excellent sort of Nick Cave-y spoken word bits, Janelle Monae is at the top of her game, and whatsherface, you know, Beyonce Knowles’ sister (I am deeply sorry for forgetting your name, jesus christ I can’t remember anything) sounds divine.
Better than Skeletal Lamping? Yes.
A new classic Of Montreal record? No.

Hopefully their next album will incorporate some of their ideas from this one, add the wild & crazy stuff from Skeletal Lamping, throw some structure in there, and maybe bring back some little quirks from their early acoustic stuff. That would probably result in a record as good as, or mayne even better than, Hissing Fauna.
We can only get better from here.

Cap and Gown photos were today, guess who is not flattered at all by a mortarboard? Me!
I finished my epic Tame Impalas video thing, it will be here shortly.
Life’s proceeding along just as planned.
I dreamt of the Poet last night.

Will write tomorrow.


12 Sep

Well, another day. Proofread Ryan’s app for St John’s, ate a sandwich, did my Brit Lit project (turned out decent, btw); all good things.
Kind of tired.

(though Pitchfork gave them a bad review I don’t care I’ll like it anyway)