Coming to UPN this fall…

I mainly hang out with 4 guys, none of which are my boyfriend, or have ever been. This is both challenging and delightful, all in one.

I have no doubt that they will make frequent appearances in this blog, so I thought it might be helpful to describe them a bit in detail. The common misperception people have when I tell them that I mainly hang out with guys is that my life is eerily similar to that of the almost hilarious sitcom ‘My Boys.’ It is, indeed, similar in the sense that I hang out with a bunch of guys. And I have a habit of referring to them as ‘my boys.’ But that’s pretty much where the similarities end.

In ‘My Boys,’ the entire comical premise is based upon the fact that she is “one of the guys.” She’s a sports writer, she’s athletic, she plays poker, she can belch, and she is, essentially, a dude. Me? Not so much.

I wear ridiculously high heels, spend hours putting on my makeup, pride myself on being able to suck in while wearing a bikini, therefore appearing halfway decent, and I consistently bake and cook for everyone in my life. Basically, I am constantly reminding everyone of my girliness. (Aside: Spell check really wants me to change this word to ‘grisliness,’ which I am tempted to do so, if not for the fact that this post would take on a completely different tone.)  That being said, I am obviously not the hugest chick in the world, or else they probably wouldn’t want to spend all their time with me. We watch sports together – mainly Boston Celtics – but we certainly don’t do anything physical together. (Heh.)

Do the boys hang out with me because I bake them stuff and wear low cut shirts? Maybe. Do I hang out with them because they’ll occasionally tell me I’m pretty and buy me drinks at the bar? Maybe. All I know is that at the end of the day, they’re my best friends.

The breakdown: they all live together and work together, and they are, collectively, ‘the boys.’ However, they are all unique little sunflowers, so they deserve names. There’s J1, J2, the German, and Brownie. J1 and J2 actually share the same name in real life, so I was tempted to give them the same moniker, but it’s a big enough pain in the ass in person, so I’ll make it easier for all of you.

J1: I have known J1 since elementary school in Massachusetts, and we have since both relocated to North Carolina, albeit years apart. We weren’t that close in high school or primary school, but we’re pretty damn close now. It’s nice having someone to turn to and say, “can you believe so-and-so’s pregnant?!” J1 is primarily known for busting out in song constantly, much to the chagrin of absolutely everyone, but he is hilarious. He enjoys rock climbing and has actually confessed to me that he has wanted to climb so badly that it has kept him from sleeping. Endearing and strange, all in one. (A very good way to describe all of these boys.)

J2: J2 and I have only known each other about a year, and it is a very strange friendship. I still don’t have his cell phone number, so I am oftentimes relegated to calling someone else that I know to be with him, and then asking them to put him on the phone so I can tell him something that he may or may not care about. He loves cats and Asians, both to a humorous degree. My favorite part about him is the way that I always feel like he’s actually listening to what I’m saying. He will listen, nod, and agree when necessary. This is also my least favorite thing about him, because he never tells me to shut up.

The German: Fairly self-explanatory – he was born in Germany, and lived there until he was like…I have no idea. That hasn’t come up yet in our friendship. We’ve known each other for about 3 or 4 years, and aside from the occasional drunk sassy comment from yours truly regarding genocide, I think we have a great friendship. He loves the Celtics almost as much as I do, and we share the same inappropriate sense of humor in Apples to Apples. Whenever I cook, I ask him if he likes it, and he refuses to speak words, instead choosing to moan or roll his eyes. It has been years and I’ve yet to decipher what the different tones and eye-rolls mean, but I’m told it’s a good sign. He gets along great with Cadillac, so obviously he’s cool.

Brownie: Brownie and I, like J2, have only known each other for about a year. Unlike J2, however, I not only have his cellphone number, but I have multiple cell numbers. (This makes up for J2’s lack of one.) He also likes to cook, and while neither one has ever said it, I’m pretty sure there’s a silent competition going on between us. For a couple of weeks there was some sort of strawberry dessert cook off, with each one of us alternating cooking a dish that featured strawberries. I don’t know who won (me) but I appreciate a little competition (no, I don’t) and welcome his expertise (stop it.) He has a tendency to knock things over when he’s drunk, which I welcome as a distraction from me falling on my ass.

So, if you can tell anything from reading that, you know that I am the star of my own special sitcom, not titled, “My Boys,” but instead titled something like, “This Can’t Be Happening,” or “Where’s My Pans? No, Not Pants, PANS.” 

Music Monday, 7/16

So J2 is actually the one who indirectly suggested this to me. (I'll do a post soon kind of detailing who J2 is, because I'm sure the boys will be mentioned a lot.) And I say indirectly, because he has no idea that he did such a thing. He was telling me about a group e-mail he has going on Gmail, in which him and a bunch of his buddies e-mail each other songs every Friday. Sometimes there are themes and sometimes there aren’t, but it’s just a fun way to share music that you like with others, and a way to learn about, or even reminisce, about music.

This isn’t Gmail, and you guys aren’t technically my buddies, but in a lot of ways this is like Gmail, and you guys are my buddies. Hence the post.

Mondays kind of suck in general. What better way to get you through the week than some new music? Since the invention of Spotify and my willingness to fork over $10 every month for mobile streaming, my own music library hasn’t grown the way that it used to. That being said, I still have over 11,000 songs to my name and I am always learning about new music that I love, even if it came out decades ago. I listen to almost everything, with the exception of screamo. I have a thing about being yelled at. Scares me.

Anyways, today’s theme is going to be a reminiscent one: 2007.

2007 was a great year in a lot of ways, and it really fucked me over in a lot of other ways, so I have a lot of emotions. Back then, I was desperate to be cool in an understated way, puffing on Marlboro Lights and drinking Arizona green tea and pretending to not give a damn. (I am aware I still do these things when I’m drunk, but for some reason people think I’m cool despite that.) 2007 was also part of my musical awakening. I started listening to new (and old) bands, and while I’m sure it initially started in an effort to impress some guy, I’ve become really hooked on some of them to this day. (I remember listening to ‘Rock the Casbah’ for the first time, and being shocked that they used the same tune from Will Smith’s ‘Willenium.’ How coincidental!)

1.)    The Hoosiers – Worried About Ray

I came across this song completely incidentally. In 2007, I was really big into Last.fm, and this song continuously popped up on my custom radio, so it had to be made for me, right? I have no backstory as to the band, or why they’re so worried about Ray, but this song instantly transports me to the first day of college. (Yeesh.) Think Hot Hot Heat meets Ted Leo, with poppier vibes. It’s a fun song. Very head bob-able. Which, if you know me at all, is a main factor with absolutely everything I listen to.

2.)    Elefant – Make Up

Elefant is an indie band from NYC that I don’t think is still together (fact check me!) but when they were, man, I loved them. The bass riff in this song is so catchy and you just can’t help but be drawn into it. The lyrics are totally what every 17 year old wants to hear (You finally take your make up off/I like your eyes. You finally take your lipstick off/I like your smile) but you never feel like you’re listening to cliché bullshit, oddly enough. They had another song “Misfit,” which had some airplay back then too. The whole album is really worth listening to if you dig it. (Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid)

3.)    Desaparecidos – Man And Wife, The Former (Financial Planning)

Side project of Bright Eyes front man Conor Oberst, Desaparecidos never got the love that they deserved if you want my opinion. A bit harder and a lot edgier, Desaparecidos entire album Read Music/Speak Spanish was a commentary on the economic and sociopolitical state of America. The lyrics are brilliant and witty, and ‘Man And Wife, The Former’ tells the story of a couple trying to make it in the middle class, despite it sucking pretty hard. My idealistic self in 2007 was truly touched by the lyrics, “Cause I sold some shit, I’m saving up/We can get that house next to the park/I’ll get more hours at my dad’s shop/Yeah, we’ll plan for everything.” I guess I didn’t want to examine the track that would come later in the album – ‘Man And Wife, The Latter,’ which details the inevitable divorce resulting from an abundance of debt and resentment.

4.)    William Tell – Like You, Only Sweeter

I’m trying to refrain from mentioning Something Corporate or Jack’s Mannequin because I preach those songs so much, mostly because they are the soundtrack to my life. But William Tell isn’t necessarily cheating, right? Just ‘cause he was the guitarist for SoCo for most of their tenure doesn’t mean anything. Whatever. Time and time again it has been proven that no matter how old I get, I will always love any piano driven rock music. I’m a sucker like that. This song hurts and soothes all at once – my fragile 16 year old heart was stomped on when a guy told me, in no certain words, that he had met a girl that was “just like me, only sweeter.” What girl doesn’t love to hear that you met someone else that has all of her good qualities, and then none of her really shitty ones? That happened before this album had come out, but I can still recall countless hours of me listening to this on repeat, wondering why I sucked and was “emotionally unavailable.” (Little did I know that this would be a trend that would continue into my adult life.) Give this song a listen and give my 16 year old self a hug, would you?

5.)    Regina Spektor – On The Radio

The song that spawned my Regina love! It also spawned my predilection for crudely pasting lyrics over pictures, a habit which I have luckily grown out of. Few too many people have had this luxury, and for that, I apologize to the internet. This song is great in pretty much every single way – the music, the lyrics, the vibe. It is a fun and bubbly song and if nothing else, - wait. Why do you need more? It is fun and bubbly. And it’s Regina Spektor. Just listen and love this, Jesus.

And now I’m going to try and squeeze into those pants from high school, look at some yearbooks, and pretend that those highlights I had actually did make me look like Kelly Clarkson.

Sometimes I Get Distracted (or Five Reasons Why I Suck at Maintaining a Blog)

It is very easy for the average Internet lurker to see a blog, take note of the posts, and say to themselves, “I could do that.” After all, what’s a blog? It’s just a journal entry typed out, right? It’s just a recipe posted every few days. It’s just some craft that I came up with in ten minutes.

Wrong.

I am good at some things – even great, occasionally. But mostly, I am mediocre at probably the majority of tasks I set out to do. Mostly because I find everything interesting, and then I discover something else interesting, and abandon things halfway through. Not due to lack of interest; in fact, I usually lament the abandoned project with more effort than I ever put into it. I hate being that person. I hate not finishing things. I hate the idea that someone, somewhere, was waiting for me to do something. So, in order to justify this to myself, I have constructed 5 (I had 10, but lost interest halfway through. Kidding! Be amused!) halfass reasons as to why I am incapable of updating a blog with any measure of frequency. 

1.)   I like to write. A lot.

Writing is probably my favorite thing to do. It comes second to some other activities, most of those not appropriate to talk about on a blog my mom could read, but definitely nothing comes close to being as mentally engaging as I find writing. More than physically, although I do find the simple act of typing strangely cathartic, despite the topic. But writing has always been something I have truly enjoyed, even from a young age. So I write every day, and sometimes I find it hard to switch gears. Typing a story is so different from writing a blog, which is different from writing a work memo, which is different from typing up my angsty feelings after watching (500) Days of Summer. The last thing I want to do is type up blogs upon blogs of my wish to go to IKEA with a pseudo-boyfriend and find a Chinese family in our bathroom and try to pronounce strange Swedish furniture and oh no, I've done it again.

2.)   I have no life.

I know what you're thinking. "Sounds like the perfect recipe for a blog-acious blog!" Except none of you would ever use the word 'blog-acious,' mostly because I just invented it, and partly because it sucks. But in reality, not having a life isn't exactly the perfect recipe for anything, except early onset diabetes and an unhealthy addiction to Dr. Mario. (I already have one of these things, but you'll have to keep reading to find out which.) No life equals a great breeding ground for that strange bacteria that takes over your mind and makes you watch all your DVDs in alphabetical order. Also, having no life means you have nothing to update a blog about. Unless you're really interested in that DVD watching, because, p.s. I am on 'Across The Universe.' As much as I might want to write some days, it's a lot easier to think about it from your perch on the couch than to trudge over to your computer desk five feet away and actually try to create coherent sentences.

3.)   I am too interesting!

No, you read that correctly. Too interesting! Does such a thing exist? I'm on a quest to find out. For me, probably not. Okay, definitely not. I just confessed that I have no life; I doubt that comes from being 'too interesting.' Instead, I use this broad statement to launch into a tirade about how I have way too many interests, so it's hard for me to narrow down what my blog would be/is about. Where's my niche, exactly? I love pop culture, I love cooking, I love dogs way too much, I love reading, I love writing, I love music, I love crayons, I love ranting about politics I don't understand - what, pray tell, do I write about? When I figure this out, I will let you know. Until then, you will have to settle for being completely smitten with everything i write, and appreciating the fact that I am a rare pearl in an ocean full of sameness. (This is a direct quote from a previous annual review at work. More about this will inevitably be discussed at a later date.)

4.)   I write too much.

See absolutely everything written above for a better, in depth description. I can't believe you made it this far, to be honest.

5.)   I have no Internet. 

Cop out, I know. It hasn't always been this way, and it certainly won't be t his way for long, but for now - I am Internet-less at home. How I am posting this is a mystery to me, as I type this. (Turns out, my mom is good for more than just free meals and being disappointed in me.) I am unable to mooch off my neighbors, because for some reason they have passwords on their wireless (OH, THE INJUSTICES), but I do have friends that have the internet, and a mother and a sister. There is a long, disappointing story about my depressing lack of internet (but I bet this explains the whole alphabetical DVD watching a bit more, eh?) but I think that is, again, a story for another date. Or never. But needless to say, typing this out is saving my sanity, because I am starting to forget what the Netflix home screen looks like. Living by yourself with your only company being a dog that sleeps 21 hours a day is what I imagine solitary confinement is like. My iPhone is getting a work out and my data plan has seen better days, but how else would the good people of the Internet know I was alive, if I didn't update my Twitter every 5 minutes?

So there you go. A way too in depth look as to why I am incapable of maintaining a blog for more than three weeks. I can’t say that this changes anything, and I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep, but you never know. Maybe I will suddenly become less interesting! Then a blog would be easy, right? Or maybe I’ll suddenly hate writing. Or maybe I’ll get a really busy social schedule. And maybe I’ll have a hard time writing more than a few words at a time. And maybe I’ll have too much internet! 

Then having a blog should be really easy, right?