2004-01-13 | 12:08 a.m.
you shouldn't try to mix the two

I think it is time for a new look. It is also time for me to ever update my website. I guess that should take precedence. Yes. Whoo, that was exciting news.

You know what's creepy? When a song pops into your head for no real reason. Then you listen to the song and the words and you go, "Oh man." Because subconsciously, obstensibly, there was a reason, see? Creepy. What song? Not telling. So there.

Speaking of songs, I learned a couple of weeks ago that the place I sell mix CDs to (one a week, to be used on their telephone hold feature, etc.) is using them in a changer on shuffle. This defeats my purpose of picking just the right songs to go together, bastards. Since they have no respect for my genius, I think I can have less respect for their exclusivity. So those playlists will be a new weekly feature on my website. Hot stuff, kids.

The other night I had to watch Headbanger's Ball because The Darkness was on. Wow, The Darkness is great. AND the other bands played on that show are so awful. One that stands out for me is As I Lay Dying. I don't remember the song title was, but it was from the stupidly named album Frail Words Collapse (yes, that's WORDS) and it was, honestly, the most direly awful excuse for a song I've ever heard. And, as you may know, I like some bad music. I had to mute it. All Music says they are Christian metal, but that shit was ungodly. For real.

Did you see how Real Simple is pushing some carrot ginger chicken soup. Bitches be moving in on my action, but please understand that my carrot ginger chicken soup rocks theirs. But even when it isn't transcendent (like mine) it's good, so I guess I should applaud Real Simple for spreading the love. You go.

I was talking about those weird flashes of places (mostly) that pop into my head all the time for no reason and Sarah was telling me about Cranio-Sacral massage, which I guess makes you less crazy through trained head rubbing. This makes sense to me and I want in on it. If a head massage could have stopped my hiccuping brain from repeating "Vondie Curtis-Hall" and picturing a slashed eye everytime I spaced out on the train those couple of years back, I'd be a happier girl today. I think we all would.

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