I'm a super shy live music & travel photographer. I post snippets of my daily life and other mundane things. Out of all the crap I blab about, I think you can trust my opinion on music the most. Read more.
Nothing Big Song I wrote and RECorded today, well, quickly.
Nothing big Nothing grand Nothing useful Nothing planned Nothing smart, or at least not very Nothing revolutionary Nothing urgent Nothing hot Maybe quiet Maybe not Nothing hard Nothing wet Nothing naked, well not yet Nothing witty Nothing wise No big deal No first prize Nothing solemn Nothing set Nothing much to give or get Nothing now but me and you Nothing more, thanks, that’ll do
I want to make her smile like that, he thought. I want to be the one. I want to be the reason.
“Cards & Quarters" by Local Natives
There’s a cave made of sheets And I, I know we want to be inside Take off all of your clothes and climb Into a cave of sheets tonight Steal away You and me To a cave made of sheets
Quite possibly the sexiest song ever.
“Airplanes" by Local Natives
“Cubism Dream" by Local Natives
I will never know what had rot my heart It just came and went in the dark I had changed into the certain kind of man That could break your heart with his own hands
There is very little in this world that makes me feel like a failure. But sitting at a dinner table with a group of people who each are one half of a couple manages to instill this feeling of abject defeat.
There’s this particular bewildered look that I’ve grown to know well: the Well Why Don’t You Just Go And Get A Boyfriend, You’d Be So Much Happier - Just Look At Me And My Radiant Loved-Up Glow! - I can sit there and defend myself to the end of days, (“I just don’t have time”, “I haven’t met anyone that sets my world on fire yet”, “I’m still trying to work out what I want”), but it never seems quite enough.
This always confuses me. I’m 19, not 40. It’s not like my biological clock is ticking, and I’m at the point of my life when I ought to be exploring the world and being selfish/indulgent/working out what in life I love. It’s crazy that the fact that I’ve decided to do this alone for a few years gets me treated like I’ve decided to be a nun. I have my whole life ahead of me to make decisions about joint checking accounts and Saturday brunch. Maybe it’s not too much to ask to have a few years of being a “Me” rather than a “We”.
There’s no education superior to travel. Think of The Motorcycle Diaries, or what Montrose St. Millet wrote in Ages of Exploration: ‘To be still is to be stupid. To be stupid is to die.’ And so we shall live. Every Betsy sitting next to you in a classroom will only know Maple Street on which sits her boxy white house, inside of which whimper her boxy white parents. After your travels, you’ll know Maple Street, sure, but also wilderness and ruins, carnivals and the moon. You’ll know the man sitting on an apple crate outside a gas station in Cheerless, Texas, who lost his legs in Vietnam, the woman in the tollboth outside Dismal, Delaware, in possession of six children, a husband with black lung but no teeth. When a teacher asks the class to interpret Paradise Lost, no one will be able to grab your coattails, sweet, for you will be flying far, far out in front of them all. For them, you will be a speck somewhere above the horizon. And thus, when you’re ultimately set loose upon the world…” He shrugged, his smile lazy as an old dog. “I suspect you’ll have no choice but to go down in history.
I love reading this part of McSweeney’s website. Some of my favorites:
Getting together for breakfast Meeting people for breakfast solves two problems at once: it gets you out of the house and it forces you to hone your biscuit v. toast decision-making skills.
Saving a lucky chestnut Ages well, appears plausibly powerful.
Stopping at a scenic overview to take in the scene We’re not as jaded as you think. Some of those overviews are pretty damn scenic.
Doritos Not all the time, and not Cool Ranch, but most people would probably be happier if they ate at least a single Dorito per year. Don’t be a hero.
Joseph Gordon-Leavitt’s “Here Comes Your Man” in(500) Days of Summer Spot on, that was it. The whole movie, that too, we were smitten. But karaoke of The Pixies stellar work, set rightly amidst the plot, sung in the right spirit, that was good.
Buying holiday presents for strangers Adopt a family in need this year instead of giving presents to your relatives that you aren’t sure you even like. You won’t even miss the Sharper Image toothbrush.
Grizzly Bear’s version of “While You Wait for the Others” featuring Michael McDonald We understand that this iteration of the song originally on Veckatimist is polarizing, but there’s something about McDonald’s vocals that just take this song to another, wholly enjoyable, place.
Sneezing Let it go, let it rocket you backward, feel the release, don’t bring it up short. Hot damn, it feels good.
Voting You’re going to, right? Just do it. It will feel good. Trust us on this one. Yes, it might be cold and rainy, and you may have to wait in line awhile, but, still, power through it. You can do this. If you have children, bring them along. Show them democracy in action. Yes, they might not have much patience for waiting in line, or for the kind old people handing out ballots who ask them what grade they’re in and say nice things about how handsome or pretty they are, but your children’s presence when you pull that lever or touch that computer screen or jab that chad will make the voting experience all the more satisfying and (dare we say it? — yes) patriotic.