I've got Sunshine on a cloudy day

It has been forever since I've gone out--April 20th to be exact. That was for the always adorable Matthew Dear show at Chop Sweaty which Matt (roomie) and I thoroughly enjoyed (we closed the mofo out). There might have been shows that I let slip through the cracks, but there hasn't been anything that has compelled me to call in late/sick to work.
My schedule (as is well-chronicled) precludes me from spending mediocre nights on the dancefloor. I'm cool with that--perhaps I'm a little fatter because I don't dance as much, but my wallet is also little fatter.
This weekend marks my triumphant return to the discotheque. I get to bust out all the moves I've been practicing in front of the bathroom mirror, and who better than Tommie Sunshine for my reinauguration?
I've never had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Sunshine play out, but I am very, very familiar with his body of work. He's remixed everyone, and he's played the world over. Best of all? Its free.
If y'all didn't know, free is like my all time favorite word. I once skipped a midterm for a free breakfast. Oh, and I love free basing.
Rich, over at fourfour, has a mix that has his latest release with Marc Romboy, 'Body Jack.' If the beats are like that track, I expect to dance the whole night through.
Sunday, I'll also be going to church, aka the Re-bar. True, the sound being sported at Re-bar isn't really my thing anymore, but the crowd is great, the vibe is good, and sometimes we need nostalgia.

Future shows include:

9/15 - Decibel Festival (Telefon Tel Aviv, Apparat, Alex Smoke) @ Neumo's
9/16 - Decibel Festival (Jerry Abstrakt, Green Velvet) @ Neumo's
9/17 - Decibel Festival (The Dead Texan) @ Broadway Performance Hall
9/29 - Junior Boys @ Neumo's (and in-studio @ KEXP, thnx Janice!!!!)
10/20 - MSTRKRFT @ Chop Suey
11/12 - Brookville / Tahiti 80 @ The Croc

So, few and far between, but that works just fine for me. Hope to see you out at one or two of these shows!

Sunny Sunday soul singers

UPDATE: The Peter Bjorn & John link has been fixed. Its such a good track, please download it and then decide that you need to buy their album. It, for me, is a perfect end of summer track.

As always, all tracks posted are for limited time, please support musicians and all that other shit.

Nice, mellow weekend which is just what was needed before a more regemented schedule takes hold this week.
Sunday morning I went to El Greco for brunch with Kelley and Steve 2. Our waiter was the type of dreamy that wakes you up slightly moist. He had a Space Needle tattoo on the back of his right arm and when questioned about it, he blamed it on the indiscretions of youth. (Insert swoon here.) The food, as usual, was quite good. I was particularly taken with Steve 2's sweet potato fries replete with large crystals of sea salt. It is touches like this--a side dish that acts as a link between breakfast and lunch--that make El Greco a step above the rest for ladies who brunch.

Then we walked through the Capitol Hill Farmer's Market. Kelley bought some blackberries and then we wandered over to Cal Anderson Park. We dipped our feet in the wading pool and watched children play. It was sunny and warm and the perfect way to kill time after a delicious meal. The water feature in the park is really beautiful and its hard to believe that urine-soaked Broadway is a stone's throw away.

After that we headed over to First Hill to the always-interesting Frye Art Museum. Folk artist Henry Darger is the current exhibition. I was pretty underwhelmed with the art itself,--it mimicked (sometimes blatantly) ad campaigns from the time--but Darger's ignorance toward gender was prety fascinating and his output was phenomenal. Darger has a tendency to draw little girls with little penes. He, apparently, was not aware that male and females differed in the genital region. Darger wrote The Vivian Girls which, as the curator is quick to point out, is the precursor for such strong female heroes as Xena, Wonder Woman, and the Sailor Scouts. If you live in Seattle, you should make the trip to the Frye. The Frye is free and if the Darger stuff creeps you out, you can always check out the inocuous Trimpin exhibit.
If you're not in Seattle, but would like to know more about this elusive, reclusive artist, put In the Realms of the Unreal in your Netflix queue.

So, yeah, like I said, it was a pretty mellow weekend. I got lots of sleep. If I were to make a playlist for the weekend, it would probably look something like this:

Song for the Songs - The Concretes
Let My Shoes Lead Me Forward - Jenny Wilson
I Think of You - Ivy
Objects of Affection - Peter Bjorn & John
Different Day - L'Altra

No, its not all over your face

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Aretha Franklin to start my week

My first image today was that of a young Aretha Franklin in a slinky grey dress bathed in a pink spotlight. I'll let that set the tone for the week.

What did I do this weekend?
Well, I leveled all three of my characters on WoW, and I auditioned for the Seattle Men's Chorus.
Oh, so now I have to justify myself to you? Fine.

Reasons why I auditioned for the Men's Chorus -

I like singing
What do I have to lose?
Performing on stage at Benaroya Hall and McCaw Hall would be mass rad
Reason to get out of the house once a week
Free refreshments
Meet dudes
Forcing all of my friends to attend at least one show (yes, I mean you!)

So I think my audition went pretty well. I wasn't properly warmed up and I had a lot of phlegm all lodged up in there, but I sang ok. Turns out the cigarettes have been murder on my range (I used to have a 4 octave range, now I'm barely making 2). He had me sight read which was totally gross and something I haven't done in forever--I haven't even looked at sheet music in quite some time. And it wasn't exactly an easy piece to sight read, dotted quarter notes, naturals, and a 4 note jump which was like groping for a book on the top shelf of a very tall bookcase. I'm almost 99% that I'm in--find out on Tuesday by way of phone call.
Keep your fingers crossed, y'all!

I'm never gonna dance again

I hate only being able to watch half of ProjRun before heading in to work. Once at work, I'll peruse the usual blogs and, inevitably, I will find out who got auf'd. No big whoop. I'm not one of those spoiler queens who insists that knowing how a story ends ruins the actual telling of the story. I don't, however, believe that I can watch poor Allison's dreams become shattered in the final half hour of last night's episode. Add to that the ridiculosity of Benji winning So You Think You Can Dance, and you might just get a whiff of my pungent ire.

Oh, that wasn't my ire that smelled so bad--it was my feet (which have, at times, smelled of broccoli).

Speaking of my feet, my left foot looks like a ham hock. I thought I had Fred Flintstone feet before my mysterious injury, but now I could easy power a prehistoric vehicle to the drive-in (if only there were someone with whom I could park--hell, I'd even settle for an order of ribs that tips the car over). How did I get said injury? I'm guessing a pair of dress socks that were worn all day Saturday that are quite constrictive--but I literally (and I mean literally, not figuratively) have no idea how it happened.

Even though the results of SYTYCD are disappointing (Travis should have totes won), I think that Risa, her sisters, and I are going to attend the September 12th SYTYCD performance at the Paramount. Tickets are priced $37-$50. I say, spend the extra $13 bucks, but we'll see.

So that's on September 12th. Two days later, the third annual Decibel Festival will be underway. The line up is pretty impressive this year. Green Velvet, Telafon Tel Aviv, The Dead Texan, Apparat, Andreas Tilliander, and Alex Smoke, to name a few.
If you're a househead and you're coming to town for this festival, you're more than welcome to crash on our couch. We accept beer, pot, sex, or cleaning as forms of payment.

And since I'm talkin' 'bout music again (funny how that happens), here's the latest:

OKDJ vol. 7

I know I said I wouldn't release another one until I figure out Acid, but I just don't get Acid. I mean, do I have to just work two songs together and save it as a new track then add another song? And why can't I change the tempo?
Plus, I had all this awesome music to share. Oh, and I've been really bored down here in the vault.
So, you get more music! Yippie!

Here's the tracklisting:

Ladyflash (Simian Mobile Disco Mix) - The Go! Team
Toop Toop (Oliver Koletski Mix) - Cassius
SadomasochistUS - Creme de Menthe
Weird Fantasy - B-Series
Cuz of You (Mark Grant Mix) - Green Velvet
The Minimum of Life - Joakim
Wake Up (Justus Kohncke Remix) - Lo-Fi Fnk
Bells feat. Linda Lamb - Vitalic
You Take My Breath Away (Mylo Mix) - The Knife
Shemale (Black Strobe Mix) - Sir Drew
In White Rooms (Elecktrochemie Remix) - Booka Shade
Les Djinns (Trentemoller Remix) - Djuma Soundsystem
Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John

If you'll notice, I reviewed the first track over here. You have been keeping up, right?
And, not to toot my own horn, I think this mix is easily one of my best. Hard to go wrong with Vitalic, Green Velvet, The Knife, Trentemoller, Mylo, Joakim, and Booka Shade, though.

A descent proposal

Matt, Steve 2, and I went to catch "The Descent" yesterday afternoon. I think the general concensus was that it was decent. I mean, it didn't stink, so we didn't have to de-scent it. (Ok, I'm out of puns.)

It had some pretty good ideas and it could have been about fifty times creepier than it was, but still, far, far better than say, Saw, Saw II, The Hills Have Eyes, The Amityville Horror, and most other horror films released in the past 10-or-so years.
I really liked all the vagina related crap--an all-female cast (the only dude gets offed in the first 10 minutes), climbing into a big hole in the ground, all the blood, and other crap. The monsters were pretty ineffective and, overall, the whole thing could have been psychologicaller, y'know?
Things left to the imagination, especially in confined spaces is just cuh-reepy. The sequences of the spelunkers shimmying through tight spaces were way creepier than the battles with "the crawlers."

So I think I got Matt (Steve 2 is only at the "tolerate" phase) hooked on Veronica Mars (yay!), now I've just gotta convice the rest of you.

I think Deputy Leo made it to season two episodes, but even if he didn't, dude is foyne.
Check it:













And, he's in love with me.












And don't you want to be supportive of my (imaginary) relationship? Well, then start watching the show!
Oh, and check out the fashion:

Season 1 is available on DVD now.

Season 2 is released on August 22nd.

Season 3 begins Tuesday, October 3rd at 9PM on the CW (omg, right after Gilmore Girls)!!!

I expect annotated reports detailing your love for the show on my desk in the morning.

Class dismissed.

Work around

I know my shift from daywalker to night monkey has been chronicled fairly well on this here blog, but I feel like further expounding upon the subject.

Technically, I only have one day off a week--Saturday.

I go into work at 11PM on Sunday and I am finished at 7:45AM on Friday (don't think I work straight through, cuz that's just crazy talk).

I spend my entire time at work in a digital dark room. I look at pixels. I listen to music, and, for all intents and purposes, my body and brain still think that they are in some form of sleep.

Most of my dreams are related to cell phones or fame.

Asian girl on cell phone.

Mariah Carey on the red carpet.

Last week began with a sweaty Freddy Mercury and quickly degenerated to civil war in the Sierra Leone. Nightmarish images.

I saw emaciated children burying children who starved to death.

I saw a man dead on the street and I thought it was nice that someone had placed a flower on his head.

When I zoomed in, the flower turned into brain matter. I turned his brain into the flower I saw initially because someone should be nice--even if it is someone who didn't know the man. Even if the man has been dead for years. Even if I had to turn it back into brain after I finished with the picture.

I spend my time away from work trying to sleep. I no longer sleep for long periods of time. Part of this is a blessing--it battles my predisposition for depression induced sleep. Most of it is a curse.

I sleep for four hours. I am awake for two. I try to get a few more naps in before starting the cycle all over again. I do not feel connected to myself in my waking hours. I often feel as though I am watching myself. Bunuel has nothing on the surreal images that are formed when one naps, looks at tons of pictures, and naps some more.

I'm not writing this because I expect some sort of sympathy from you. I'm writing this so you understand why I don't return your phone calls. I'm writing this so you understand why I am frequently not available. Its not you, its me--but you already knew that.

Back to the filthy images from the Polish Solidarity Strike that began almost 26 years ago.