Monthly Archives: February 2011

sotd 2.21.11

I had to search through my sotd archive to make sure I hadn’t featured this one yet. And I hadn’t (!!!). I’m sorry that I’ve been thus far lackadaisical about sharing this one with y’all.

One of my favorite lines of any Ben Folds song:
“I think about my friends, sometimes I wish they lived out here
But they wouldn’t dig this town.
No, they wouldn’t dig this town.”


“Alice Childress” / Ben Folds Five (1995)

*Jesus, Julie. You’re starting to sound like James Lipton. Deep breaths. Pull it back a little.**
**Except for this: listen to his voice on the very last “It’s getting late where you are” – that super-high, reachy-cracky thing? I wondered about that, so I looked up a live version of this song (which he apparently doesn’t perform very often?). Anyway, it happens, and it’s good, but not the same. What a great moment in studio recording.

mattress-buying adventure, part one?

INT: Julie’s bedroom. Morning.

Julie wakes up and rolls over. A loud snapping sound is heard as her shoulder moves itself back into place. A series of popping noises as she stands up and stretches.

Julie (VO): Blaharghayeechagaaah.

Fade out.

INT: Kitchen table. Julie is eating breakfast, Julie’s Mom is sitting at her laptop, absorbed in her sixty-sixth online crossword puzzle of the day.

Julie (J): I want to buy a new mattress.

Julie’s Mom (Ma): I heard they were saying you should get a new one every eight years.

J: Mine is 24 years old.

Ma: Unh.

J: I’m not sure what size I should get. Any input?

Ma: No.

J: Well, I want a bigger one, like a full or a queen. But then what should I do with my current bed?

Ma: *shrugs*

J: I’m asking because, you know, you’re the one who bought me that bed when I was a kid. Do you want to keep it? Should I move it into Brother’s room?

Ma: Dunno.

J: I could put it in storage, I guess? Or donate it?

Ma: Mmmmph.

J: I could maybe put it in the backyard, set it on fire.

Ma: *coughs*

J: Does Dad still have that gasoline in the garage? For the lawnmower? I could use that as an accelerant, right?

Ma: Mmmm. Dad. Yes. He’s downstairs.

J: Okay, well, I’ll use the Ove Gloves just in case it gets hot. Have you seen his welder’s mask lately? It used to be on the workbench.

Ma:: Yuh? Mmmm.

J: Okay, well, I’ll be outside if you need me.

Ma: (Looking up). It’s so nice outside today!


So yeah. I want to buy a mattress. I’ve only been talking about it for a year, but I think this might be the weekend to do it. See, our forefathers intended us to celebrate their leadership of this fine nation by purchasing discounted furniture so everyone and their sister is having Mattress Closeouts! this weekend.

Wish me luck.



sotd 2.20.11

This is one I learned to love through my mother. She desperately wanted me to pick “Bernadette” for my Confirmation name, but I went all I-wanna-pick-something-totally-different-even-though-no-one-else-in-my-class-picked-Bernadette and chose, ugh, Victoria (really, Julie?). I regretted this decision almost immediately, but I had already written my Please Let Me Be Confirmed letter to the parish priest and I wasn’t sure how cool he’d be with a take-back.

To compensate, I chose Bernadette as my name for French class my freshman year of high school. Not quite the same, but it’s the closest I’ve ever been to pleasing my mother.*

Anyway, this is just a great song – really listen to the lyrics. Love it.

“Bernadette” / The Four Tops (1963)

*No, no. Not true. But doesn’t it sound dramatic?

sotd Theme Week!

Today begins another Song of the Day Theme Week! Wait, another? Haven’t you only done one? Um, no. If you’ll recall I’ve done a week of Favorite Songs about Texas and Favorite Songs by Canadian Recording Artists.

Well, maybe I can’t blame you for forgetting. Er.

So what magical musical mystery tour am I about to take you on, gentle reader? Hold onto your underthings, because today is the first day of….

Lady Songs!
To clarify: Songs with a woman’s name in the title. This is a musical theme as old as [something really old], so the pickins are less-than-slim. Please enjoy, and feel free to comment with your personal favorite Lady Songs, too (because if I get stuck, I just might shamelessly reappropriate your idea for my own use).


Internet 1, Poison Control 0

While indulging in a little WebMD hysteria on behalf of a friend who is experiencing abdominal pain (read: she’s probably just a gassy lassy), the handy-dandy Symptom Checker Thingie Tool lead us to a step titled “Pain or discomfort brought on by:” with a dozen-or-so boxes one could check. Each of these was labelled with things like “after eating dairy products” or “with exercise or strenuous activity.” These things make moderate sense to me, what with my Grey’s Anatomy-level of medical education. One of the boxes, however, was fairly alarming:

“Or made worse by swallowing irritating chemicals or poison.”

Once more for emphasis, shall we?

…swallowing irritating chemicals or poison.

Thanks, WebMD, for reminding me that the Ajax I had for breakfast just might be the cause of my intense abdominal discomfort and / or death-like symptoms.

“Honey, are sure it isn’t the milk in the Cheerios? You know how you get with dairy!”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, the Liquid Plumr might have been expired.”

I’d also like to point out that a little Alert! (the kind that pops up when you check symptoms like “is unconscious” or “not breathing” and says GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL RIGHT FUCKING NOW) did not appear when you try to click the “my tummy aches after I eat foam insulation” box.

Wow. Just wow.


sotd 2.18.11

Full Disclosure: I’ve created an Excel spreadsheet of all my past Songs of the Day. I do this because if I didn’t, Elliott Smith’s “Angel in the Snow” would make an appearance on the ‘blog three times a week and as good as I think that song is, I’m sure my reader(s?) wouldn’t appreciate it. Anyway, this is a good one that I came across by listening to a local college radio station (that, awesomely enough, posts ALL THEIR PLAYLISTS for my downloading pleasure).

“Conventional Wisdom” / Built to Spill (2006)

*Also, I don’t fully understand why sometimes when I copy-and-past the URL from Youtube the video just appears and sometimes I have to create a link to it. Either way, the video for this song is real fun and worth watching.

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sotd 2.17.11

I keep a pad of paper no more than four feet from my person at all times. 99% of the time, the stuff I jot down (down which I jot?) is useless – the other 1% is good. That said, I wrote down this song twice, and I’m still not sure which category it falls into yet.

“Desire” / Ryan Adams (2002)

p.s. This video falls into the 99th percentile.

An open letter.

An open letter to everyone I know, in the event that they die before I do:

Hey, there,
First – are you serious? You don’t want me to cry? You know I’m going to fucking cry. No – scratch that: I’m going to  bawl my fucking eyes out. Wait – what did you just say? No shit. Now? Right now? Now is the time that you finally decide that dangling participles are unacceptable and you are picking right fucking now to call me out on my shit? You are not funny. I hate you.

Oh, man. I really do hate you. For dying, I mean. What the hell, man? This is not cool. I don’t even – I don’t know – I don’t even know what to fucking say. Just let me cry. For a little bit. You know how I get. Such a cliche, is what you’re thinking. She cries for, like, fifteen minutes and then she becomes hyper-aware that she is crying and then starts thinking of that Dane Cook bit about crying and looking in the mirror while you’re crying and oh my god she just went to look at herself in the mirror. I’m dead, jackass. Quit looking at yourself in the mirror.

Oh, screw you. You’re dead. I can look at myself in the mirror whenever I want.

Wait, you can see that?


Oh, Jesus. Please, please, please promise me that you won’t, like, “just check in” on me from wherever the hell you are. Looking up, down, under – whatever. If I can never again enjoy a private moment with a special friend I will be piiiiiissed. And if you weren’t already dead, I would kill you. Yeah, yeah, I know that doesn’t make sense. I’m delirious with grief, dickwad. Cut me some slack.

I mean, for the record, I really do like the idea of folks I love “checking in” on me. And hey – if you got any say in sending some good luck my way, I’m most appreciative. But there’s a limit, is what I’m saying. I mean, had I been hit by a bus first there’s no way in hay-ell I’d be peeping on you while you’re making twosies in a truck stop bathroom.

And least that’s all you’re doing in that bathroom.

Okay, okay: enough’s enough. Don’t begin an essay with “first” if you don’t intend to use “second” or “third.” Are you for real? Like, when you died did you somehow jump into the body of my Intro to Journalism professor? Because I know for a fact that when we spoke, proper English was rarely used.

Oh while I’m thinking about it, have you met anyone cool? Like Hendrix? Oh my god if you’re best friends with Jimi Hendrix right now I will be uuuuupset. I mean, even more so if you were to watch me while I watch the Ryan Phillippe scenes in Cruel Intentions in a dark room by myself. Uh. Anyway.

Fine, fine. I guess I’m not actually mad at you. I’m just disappointed. Here I thought we had at least five to fifty more good years left together. I sort of thought there’d always be a tomorrow, you know? I guess I – I just – I don’t know. I miss you.

What the fuck? Are you seriously laughing? Here she goes with the cliches again! Someone’s been watching too many Nicholas Sparks movies! Oh, step off, jerkface. You know what? I hope Jimi Hendrix doesn’t even want to have anything to do with you. Your karaoke “All Along the Watchtower” sucked, anyway.

But I’d give anything to hear it again.

Yours truly,

Cookies in bed.

My mom got me a gift card to Bed Bath and Beyond for Christmas last year. It was a very well-intentioned mistake that I’ve yet to point out to her; see, I’ve got an unhealthy obsession with Bath and Body Works, but she is only vaguely aware of that particular store’s existence. In her kindly, gift-giving, mind the stores are interchangeable, and thus I have some dollars to spend at a store I only visit when I need to get something off of a gift registry.

(Tangent: Picture the scene as I reach into my stocking and pull out said gift card. “Oh, wow!” I said – genuinely surprised. Mom begins to gush. “I know how much you love that place!” she says. “Oh, wow!” I say again, wondering just how many cast-iron skillets one person needs [the answer: one, and my personal quota’s been filled].)

But today I began to peruse the Bed Bath and Beyond site and came upon this:

WHO WOULD NOT WANT THIS ON THEIR BED? Cookies? Seriously? I love it! Does it come in lime green? Because I need it in lime green. Well, that’s okay. I’m sure I can find some lime green shams. Perhaps some fuschia is in order, too. OH MY GOD THIS IS WONDERFUL.