Against the Dying of the Light

Well, it appears that the jury is in on yesterday: that shit wasn’t funny, and you (or at least some of you) watched it anyway. So, thanks. Teh Intarnetz have surprised me again, showing me that somebody’s watching youTube for something other than the “I Like Turtles” kid and Spaghetti Cat. Those of you who made it through all nine minutes of that shizz seem to have gotten the point. Also, you kind of enjoy the realness that comes from a bit of crawling. This is good, as there will probably be more crawling. On-camera lack of makeup. On-camera glasses. On-camera crying. I’m working up to it. There’s so little realness anymore.

I learned the “you’re pretty when you cry” lesson from watching America’s Next Top Model. No, really…hear me out on this. For those of you who don’t watch the show (and why aren’t you? it’s awesome), Tyra’s forever telling the women that a pretty picture is good but a real picture is better. Pretty is remarkably easy, but it takes real balls to let the camera see all the way into your eyes, to let it see inside you, to let go, drop the walls, and jump in with both feet. The models who manage this come out with better work, and the ones who are content to just suck it their cheekbones and posture usually end up getting sent home.

I could write you a whole rant about how the value of reality tv is in what you take away from it, and not just what is on the screen, but I’ll spare you. I’ve totally been Captain Wordington lately, and I’m trying to cut back.

Also, that bit about the flashing red light seems to have hit home with you guys. Good. If I have to see that light flashing in my face all the time, you should too, and maybe it’ll make all of us less complacent. I’m so tired of seeing my friends grow up and abandon all the wonderful creative ideas that they have in favor of going through the daily grind and coming home to watch sitcoms. Little by little, people walk away from the creative things that make them who they are in favor of getting married and having kids. Don’t get me wrong: if you have a marriage and kids, those things should be your top priorities…but it wouldn’t hurt to teach those kids to play instruments and Partridge Family it out. Some of my best family memories involve mom, dad and sis playing guitars and me playing along on keyboard. Dad’s desire to have sis and me sing harmony was a bit ill-fated, but nobody’s perfect. More and more I’m realizing that potential boyfriends need to be someone who will be artsy with me. Otherwise, they’re just big time sucks and I’ll eventually be resenting them for taking me away from the stuff I did before I met them. Like, instead of dinner and a movie, let’s have dinner and a craft night.

Weekend: 2 Days Without A Timesheet

We have a new project tracking system at work. We have been notified that we should be keeping our hours daily, listing what we’re working on. This is rough for me, as I don’t have much to do. It adds up to lying, wanking, and shopping on ebay…I haven’t wanted to design in months…that’s a long story.

Friday
Went to jrob’s for a night of movies (Air Guitar Nation, King of Kong) and Rock Band. OK, so the Rock Banding didn’t last very long because the people who were still around by that time were pretty trashed, but hey. Drunk Rock Band is pretty funny, and you can sing real loud and know that no one in the room will remember how tone-deaf you were. A good time was had.

Saturday
Went up to Rivergate to hang out with Mark. This week consisted of the garden fajitas at Las Cebollas and the usual mini-marathon of reality tv. The fajitas were kick-ass and markedly less evil than the taco salad that I refer to as “the giant taco.” After eating trail mix and pizza the day before, I felt like I should try to keep it non-evil on Saturday. Mark and I are weeks behind on Top Model, but Project Runway and Bad Girls Club are almost over, so we’ll catch up quickly. Oh, and did you know that collagen fright Daisy from Rock Of Love used to play bass in Seraphim Shock? Vraiment! See?

From the Seraphim Shock site

From VH-1.com

From her stint on The Muppet Show

Props to Jen and Seven Sect Kevin for pointing this out, as the only member of Seraphim Shock that I could pick out of a lineup is the singer guy because of his disturbing pecs. Yeah, I know. He’s a really nice guy. I know. I just think he kind of looks like a date rapist.

Sunday
Did brunch with Katy, a drive-by on a couple of houses, and then went home and watched some shows from PBS about Appalachia. They were really good, and helped me see eastern Kentucky as something other than the armpit of America. It really is kind of rich in musical culture, and really is kind of pretty if you’re into that “nature” stuff. It’s also most unfortunate that the beauty of the area is slowly being taken away by people destroying the land to mine coal, and that a lot of the people there are still broke and feeling the effects of the bad news that occurred there after World War II. The story of Appalachia is pretty cautionary, because it reads like this: people lived there for a long time and pretty much did their own thing…until someone realized that there was coal there. Then, much like Native Americans, the people were painted as stupid savages, devalued, and slowly pushed off their land and into poverty. Charming, no?

I also helped explain almost my big, round head. Yeah, half of me comes from the English, but that half doesn’t show much. What does show is German, Scottish, and Cherokee…the three main groups that lived in Appalachia back in the day. The show also explained the weird chant singing that they do there (ask me to do some for you, as I can’t properly describe it in words), and why Bluegrass music sounds so much like Irish music. The Scottish people who came over came by way of Ireland…fiddles were small enough to bring to the new world…you do the math. It was a good show, and it reminded me that I shouldn’t talk so much smack about eastern Kentucky. Even if they really do have nothing but Denny’s and cemeteries there.

Later, I headed out to goth night and, now that my respiratory system is functioning properly, busted out one of the new corsets. Luckily, my concerns about possible wardrobe malfunctions remained unfounded and the girls stayed where they were supposed to, even through dancing. I still put Jen on nipwatch, though. “Your job tonight is to let me know if anything works its way out.”