One-Trick Pony

[Programme note: Website upgrade failed miserably, when A) I forgot to renew my hosting bandwidth along with my domain name, so there was no place to put anything, and B) my CSS-fu was so weak that I destroyed the style sheet entirely and had to scrap the whole thing, starting all over again at 2 in the morning on Saturday. So the move is massively delayed.]

I've decided that this week has a theme. It's a Week of Lists! Because who doesn't love a good list? Communists, that's who.

Without further ado:

List of 10 Things That I Have At Some Point In The Recent Past Been Completely Unable to Shut Up About, To The Horror Of Everyone I Know

1. Firefly/Serenity (category: television/movies)
   
2. So, Did I Tell You My Sisters Are Both Having Babies and I'm Going to Be An Uncle? Oh I Did? Maybe I Should Tell You Again. (category: lame personal anecdote)
   
3. Mika - Life in Cartoon Motion (category: music)
   
4. The Story Of How I Learned That I Have Bad Cholesterol (category: lame personal anecdote)
   
5. (cont.) Things that I Cannot Eat, Due to my Bad Cholesterol (category: super lame personal anecdote)
   
6. Being In Charge of My Office, Because my Boss is in Italy for Three Weeks (category: personal martyrdom)
   
7. How I Met Your Mother (category: television/movies)
   
8. Moving to a New Apartment (category: lame personal anecdote)
   - (subcategory: Moving is hard!)
   - (subcategory: The new place is so close to work!)
   - (subcategory: Going into detail about the layout of the place and where I think furniture is best suited to go, despite the fact that whoever I'm talking to has never even seen the place)
   
9. I Broke My Tooth In Half, The One That I Had Fixed Last Year, And It Hurts Like a Sumbitch (category: painful personal anecdote)
   
10. Hey, I Have Really Bad Allergies. Really Bad. Don't You Want to Know (In Exacting Detail) How Bad? (category: super-duper lame personal anecdote)

Restlessness on Review Friday

With the move now officially in full swing (we pick up the keys/gate openers on Tuesday) I am starting to feel the sway of complete wanderlust. So be on the lookout for a complete site redesign over the weekend. The place may be down for a day or so whilst I get everything organized.

Or I'll get lazy and never actually get around to uploading all the changes.

Either way.

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Short review day, because I have no attention span at all right now.

Books

Lisey's Story, Stephen King - I have such a disconnect when I read Stephen King books. Despite their tendency to run wildly long and go absolutely off the wall in terms of crazy plot devices, I almost always come out satisfied. After the very fun departure that was Cell - just a straightforward zombie horror-fest - this book is much more standard late-career King, very much in the vein of Insomnia or Bag of Bones. That is: widow(er) discovers deeper meaning/horrors in their now-dead spouse's past, leading to violent/horrific events in the present.

It's very well done (and better written than usual for King, by a good margin) although the seams tend to show a little bit in the structure of the plot. The whole book runs in continual flashbacks of the "Oh I remember something horrible from the past that I had repressed" variety, which can get old really fast. Especially when the thing you are remembering is someone telling a story. A flashback of a flashback of an 8 year-old child's narrative stretches my reading mind to near the breaking point.

But like I said, very well done and well written. So while you see exactly where the story is going (he actually give you the ending around page 100 but couches it so that you've pushed it out of your mind by the time it comes around) you don't mind the trip.

World War Z, An Oral History Of The Zombie War, Max Brooks - Seriously, just let that roll off your tongue a couple of times. An Oral History of The Zombie War. There is practically no way that this book could be bad. Until you start reading it and realize that it is a much more difficult task to manage than you thought.

The idea is great - a pseudo-documentary of interviews with key figures in the carefully imagined near-apocalyptic war against the walking undead. There's enough room for juicy story that by the end I was absolutely amazed at how well he pulled the whole thing off. Because it really is fraught with peril - going overboard, losing the narrative in all the winding interviews, keeping the tone in-character as you shift. Except for what I saw as a few melodramatic missteps (the downed Air-Force pilot and the soap-opera worthy submarine story) the book is tightly focused on giving you the timeline, highlighting it with personal vignettes, and then leaving you to fill all the blanks in for yourself.

It even manages some genuinely touching moments, even against a ludicrous backdrop of zombies who neither breathe nor pump blood overrunning the entire world. Big time recommended reading.

Music

Mates of State - Bring it Back. I will not lie, I have never been a huge Mates fan. More appreciative than anything else, I'd never actually bought one of their albums, just listened to a few of their songs and was decidedly "Eh." But on a recommendation from my music advisers, I picked this one up and I'm much more on board now.

Catchy, lo-tech, what I swear is an organ/drums combo, it's all just very listenable. It's gone into my main rotation as a CD that can run uninterrupted straight through. Not going to win any awards, but I'll keep my eyes open for anything they do in the future.

Amy Winehouse - Back to Black. How weird is it that these two albums have near matching titles and I got them in the same week? Anyways, I refuse to gush about this CD like everyone else. I do love a good throwback song, though, and this thing is chock full of them. It's very much old-school Motown crossed with a lot of Billie Holiday torch standards, which is very refreshing. I like a return to old things I love made new.

That said, I'm not super big on the album. I do love a couple of the songs, particularly Rehab and the title track, but the sum total is a little boring to me. I feel like a little variety would have really helped keep me more interested. I dunno, I feel sort of bad for not liking it as much as I should.

Mika - Life in Cartoon Motion. Have I not written about this one before? I really feel like I have, because in real life I couldn't stop gushing about this CD for two months straight, but I don't see it in the archives. Oh well. I love this album so hard. I can't do a coherent review, so instead I direct you to the Amazon page, which has a fever-dream-induced editorial review which is much better than me at describing such things.

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God, that took way more concentration than I expected. Back to flailing in every direction!

Heightened Other Senses

I have gone deaf in my right ear. As in no hearing whatsoever, except for a very loud rushing sound. And I'm almost certain there is nothing that is actually rushing near me.

Considering the just-completed weeks of illness, I think my body is officially in full on riot mode now. This is so lame. Are you allowed to just trade in your entire body for a new one yet? Because I want an upgrade. Maybe to one with a visible six-pack or at least less of a caveman brow.

The future should be now.

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Also, I thought when you lost one sense, the others became all heightened and more powerful. Apparently that is a load of crap. Now not only can I not hear, but my vision seems to be getting actively worse. Granted, this is probably because I haven't changed out my monthly contacts since something like December, but still. It's the principle of the thing.

Wait, maybe it's just one other sense that is heightened. Because, man, I got a paper cut just now, and that was pretty much the most exquisite pain I've experienced in a while. Of all senses to go up, what are the odds that Touch is the one I get? Lame.

This just increases the likelihood that when I eventually develop my awesome mutant power, that it's going to be a stupid one, like that kid from the X-Men movie who's special power was having a green tongue. Or the other kid who could just change television channels with his mind.

Although I wouldn't mind having that power. I hate looking for the remote control.

But I'd much rather get that whole super-hot-looks/ice making power, instead.

Unlikely apparently. Double lame.

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Speaking of TV (weren't we?), Frnak has some sort of obsession with obtaining television capture ability on his computer, so that he can edit videos and become one of those Internet famous guys. Which is admirable in its own right and has somehow resulted in him gifting me my very own TV tuner to attach to my computer. It's a little convoluted in how we got there, but I do love it when people give me gifts, so I'm all on board. (Thanks, Frnak!)

But last night I went to install it, and found out that somehow the television drivers conflict with my aftermarket video card that I installed ages and ages ago. I say "found out" like it was some simple little operation, but in truth it was an epic struggle with the computer wherein mostly I kept shouting at the screen and kicking the tower, while Frnak stared at me like I had lost my mind. It was not my finest computer-science related moment.

I know there must be some way to work around this (setting up two different profiles for the different cards, etc) but I certainly can't find it. This only serves to highlight exactly how far gone my computer skills have fallen - now pretty much to the point where I'm really glad that my degree is so carefully bound up in a frame on the wall, so it's impossible for anyone to take it away.

I mean, it's in a frame, it can't be revoked, right?

Whatever. Triple lame.

It's going to be a long day.

Sorting Through the Books

Alternately titled: Wherein I Reveal Deep-Seated Prejudices and Rant and Rave like a Crazy Old Man

I am entirely enthralled by home-improvement shows on TV right now. Mostly because I'm moving in a couple of weeks and love the idea of hidden potential in ordinary spaces. I've spoken about my love of Sell This House recently, but the best place for me to get my fix (anytime that I'm jonesing, day or night) is the HGTV, a channel I previously didn't even know existed. But now that I have found it, I love it unconditionally. It could be 3:30 in the morning on a Friday, but you can tune in and watch some fool trying to update a bedroom by spackling a mirror to the front of his dresser. It is a flawless way to waste a couple of hours.

Also? Carpenters are wicked hot. (Not the point of this post)

My rant-filled issue is only marginally related to this, but it's the jumping-off point. One of the shows that HGTV uses as filler during the day is called Operation: Organization, or something similar. Basically, they find some poor homeowner who is a complete slob and then spend thousands and thousands of dollars to get their place all organized and classy. Until the second the cameras leave and they go back to their old slobbish ways, I assume.

It's sort of a cool show because the transformations are so dramatic. Since you start out with papers and crap everywhere, the end result is amazing. The problem I have is with one of the professional organizers that they use. They have a whole stable of go-to people (Flamboyant Asian Guy, Strict British Girl, etc.) but the most used one is a Type-A Woman who is super effective at getting shit done. She cuts through all the crap and gets things organized ridiculously quickly, with her specialty being convincing people to throw away/donate stuff that they don't really need. This ability speaks deeply to me because I am horrible about throwing anything away. I envy her power so hard.

My issue, though? She hates books. Hates them. Every time she starts the sorting process, the second they get to a book shelf she starts throwing as many books as possible into the donation pile. "If you've already read it, there's no reason to keep it around taking up space. Donate it to someone else who can get some use out of it." This is like her mantra.

Never has such an innocuous comment inspired such rage in me.

The worst was when she was working with this one family with three kids. Despite the fact that she had no problem keeping something like 4 chests full of lame toys, she totally took this mom to task for wanting to keep her books, even though she had already read them. When the mom said something like "Well, every one of these books I have read at least twice," the organizer looked all disbelieving and snorted "Well, you're not going to read them a third time, right?" All the while staring at the husband with a look that clearly said "How d'you get hooked up with this nutball?"

White hot rage. Made even hotter by the fact that this is a very common belief. If you've managed to get through a book once, there could never be a reason to go back again. Arg.

Books are meant to be read multiple times. They are not the sole entertainment medium in the world that is one-use only. No one ever suggests that once you've seen a movie or listened to an album you've gotten all the use you'll get out of it you'll ever need. DVDs, CDs, these things are collected in bulk by everyone. Why? Because you can get plenty of enjoyment from repeat uses.

The same is true with a book, too. There are books I own that I have read literally dozens of times. Are they less enjoyable in the later times? No less so than watching your favorite movie or listening to your favorite album years after purchase. The fact that people can't understand this just boggles my mind.

I guess I'm just completely out of step with the rest of the world on this issue. Because seriously.

No wait, actually it goes even deeper than that. Because I hear this constantly and every time I am left completely speechless.

"Well, I just don't read." (And it's a proud declaration, like a blow for human rights or something.)

Nothing in the world, short of telling me that your hobby is Mime, will make me discount your opinions faster than telling me "Oh, I don't read." Bullshit.

Okay, not bullshit, I'm perfectly willing to believe that you don't read. But, what? Seriously, what?

There is just no way I can relate to that. People who are all "I don't watch TV, it rots your mind," I can at least just silently roll my eyes at and move on. But reading? This is a fundamental sort of thing. I'm not even talking the snobbish sort of "You've never read Tolstoy?!" crap. I mean just reading - for enjoyment, for knowledge, for anything.

Lord knows I'm not the most literary person in the world (I just spent the entire weekend reading a 400 page novel about the oral history of the zombie war, for God's sake), but so much of my world-view is colored by the reading I have done. I don't understand how people can say that they've never read a book since high school, and even then they only did it because it was required. This is a level of disconnect that I don't understand at all.

I mean, I know that it is possible to be a well-rounded individual without a background in literature. There are very few things in the world that can only be picked up from a book and those things are even less likely to be real-world necessary. That said, dismissing an entire medium out-of-hand just drives me crazy. Why limit yourself like that? Yeah, some books are boring. Or poorly written, or full of words that you don't know. But there are tons and tons of things out there to read that are hilarious, or thought provoking, informative, or just wildly interesting. And your default setting is to ignore it all?

Why?

I just, ugh. See? Complete disconnect. What is going on there? Were you abused by the written word in your past? Was getting through A Separate Peace in sophomore year really that traumatizing? (Actually, if that's the reason, then I totally have your back. God, I hate John Knowles.) I don't understand and it's making my blood pressure rise trying to figure it out.

Yeah, okay, I've gone on my snob rant long enough. But there it is.

Really, you should read.

But even if you don't, please don't tell me. It makes my brain hurt. So much.

On Illness and Housing

Our two great national nightmares are finally over: I have gotten over the dreaded cold that left me incapacitated last week AND we have found a new place to live come May 1st.

I know you were all so worried.

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The illness was pretty unbearable, but at least now I can look back on it and laugh without hacking up a lung. It's one of those weird quirks I have, but almost like clockwork each Spring I get wildly sick for about 7 days and then slowly bounce back. The first time this happened was back in college when I first learned the joys of the SMU health center and how fun medicine induced blackout hallucinations can be. Since then it's happened with regularity each year, usually in March, but sometimes a little later. This year was particularly bad because I was still getting over the allergy attacks from a couple of weeks ago, I had a metric ton of work on my desk and couldn't take any time off, and we had some freak cold weather hit Dallas right as I was already experiencing wild chills from the illness.

So basically, I've been an irritable, over-medicated zombie for the last 9 days, without interruption. I'm getting back on my feet, but it is super slow going, to be sure.

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But in more exciting news, Frnak and I totally found a new place to live. I know my specifications were pretty strict, but somehow we managed to find a place that fit a majority of them, without too much horror and/or panic attacks from yours-truly.

It's a 2 bedroom/2 bath condo with: all wood flooring, a fireplace, balcony, more square-footage than currently, and a closet so big it could qualify as a third bedroom. All that for less than we're paying now with an even shorter commute to work (For me, at least. Which is what truly matters, right? Egocentricity has to pay off at some point, I figure.).

There are a few drawbacks - the exterior is pretty low rent, the neighborhood is highlighted by a liquor store/beauty supply shop, the ceilings are lower than I like, and the foundation of the building could collapse at any minute. But overall I am so incredibly psyched that I'm having trouble getting to sleep at night, what with all the visions of redecorating in my head.

We sign off on the lease and pick out the paint color for our living room tomorrow. It feels so adult that I can barely wrap my head around it.

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As a side note, have you ever tried to pick out a paint color for a room? It has got to be the most maddening thing in the entire world.

Even with this incredibly helpful Sherwin-Williams Color Visualizer program (Which not only lets you pick out wall colors, but lets you try to approximate the color of your furniture. Whoever created this program is a genius) , Frnak and I were still up arguing over colors at 10:30 last night.

Frnak: "What color are the couches? Tan?"
Jason: "Tan? I would not own couches that were that mundane. When I bought them, the saleslady called them 'champagne'" (Clicks on the Champagne option)
Frnak: "Oh, our couches are so not that color. Try the other one...sequin?"
Jason: "Okay, conversely, I am not gay enough to own something that is 'sequin' colored...oh yeah, okay maybe they are that color. Damn."

(45 minutes later)

Jason: "I refuse to live with walls the color of a fratboy's pink polo!"
Frnak: "We are not painting the living room Orange! What is this crazy Orange obsession you have? Enough!"
Jason: "Hey, it fits my complexion!"

Eventually we agreed to go with the color that the landlord already had on hand from when he painted his own house, to save us from coming to blows (read: ineffectual slap fight).

So our living room color will be 'Bagel,' which is sadly one of the few words in the English language that I hate (along with: "impetus", "tofu", and "caveat"), but is pretty good as colors go and should match the furniture pretty well.

Our condo-warming party is soon to follow.

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Now comes the horrifying prospect of actually moving, a concept so loathsome that I hate to even consider it. I've pretty much decided though, that I will be hiring movers to do all the hard work for us, despite the exorbitant costs. There are few things in the world I will absolutely not do, but lifting a washer/dryer combo up three unique sets of stairs and installing them into a closet is almost certainly on that list.

Too Sick for Anything But a Meme

Because not even debilitating illness slows down a cliched blog, dammit! (Borrowed from Erin's archives from 1 million years ago)

Firsts

First best friend: Dustin (Last name withheld. And not just because I totally can't remember it), in the 2nd through 7th grades.
First car: 1997 Red Ford Ranger. Aka: The TOM. Still in use 10 years later.
First date: I'm stretching to remember. Probably Peggy? Did I ever date before then? I was(am) a bid nerd, so I doubt it.
First real kiss: Also Peggy, pretty sure on that one.
First screen name: Beaverguy. Some things never change, sadly enough.
First self purchased album: No Doubt - Tragic Kingdom.
First funeral: None so far (one of those knock on wood situations, for reals)
First piercing/tattoo: Nope
First pet: Spot, the hamster
First enemy: Daniel Patel, in the 4th grade. Man I hated that kid.

Lasts

Last car ride: A bleary drive into work this morning.
Last kiss: Jordan.
Last good cry: Um, gosh... oh wait! When I reread The Time Traveler's Wife last month. God that's a sad book.
Last movie seen: All the way through: Blades of Glory. More recently, I made it through the first 10 minutes of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind before I started throwing up. (Unrelated to the movie)
Last beverage drank: Mug full of chocolate-coffee first thing this morning.
Last food consumed: Bowl of Cheerios before bed last night.
Last crush: Neil Patrick Harris on the How I Met Your Mother. Because I am sick in the head, obviously.
Last phone call: Frank, trying to tempt me into Whataburger despite my vows against cholesterol.
Last shoes worn: My wildly uncomfortable work shoes. Very professional.
Last album played: Mates of State - Bring it Back
Last annoyance: When we were out of milk last night for my Cheerios.
Last disappointment: That I missed Sean's debut of his movie at the AFI Film Festival last week.
Last time scolded: Yesterday when I did something monumentally stupid at work. Sometimes I wonder how I function in the real world.
Last t-shirt worn: My faux-vintage orange SMU shirt that is three times too small for me.
Last website visited: www.penny-arcade.com
Last song you sang: Queen - Somebody to Love, on the way home from work on Monday before the illness descended.

Whats

What's in your cd player?: I will assume this means the last CD I physically bought at the store, which would be Regina Spektor - Begin to Hope, which I have since loaned away and will probably never see again.
What color socks are you wearing?: Black
What color of underwear are you wearing?: Blue
What's under your bed?: All of my important documents in a file-folder and the box that my cell phone came in.
What time did you wake up today?: 8:10. Nyquil played a significant part in that.

Future

Where do you want to go?: Boston, to visit Julia, the entrepreneur.
What is your career going to be?: We're going to ignore this question so I don't end up curled into a tiny ball sobbing uncontrollably.
Where are you going to live?: Dallas.
What kind of car?: Once I am rich and/or famous, a dark green Jaguar.

Currents

Current mood: Brooding over illness
Current music: The Best of The Proclaimers, randomly split with some of Amanda Palmer's live stuff.
Current taste: Tiny cup full of mandarin oranges.
Current hair: Recently cut, still longer than usual, spiky and out of control.
Current longing: Some vacation time
Current desktop picture: Penny Arcade picture: "Roll for Inititative"
Current favorite artist: Regina Spektor, still #1 in my heart.
Current time-wasting: Puzzle Quest, for the Nintendo DS. I have spent more time playing this game in the past week than I have watching TV and messing around on the Internet combined. It's an addiction, people.
Current hates: Allergies, illness, the word "Whatev."

Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go try and find a dignified way to lie down in my office without throwing up or offending anyone's sensibilities concerning office decorum.