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remember, beware of the yawn technique:

how i spent my weekend

dig this

state of the commonwealth

12.20.08

12.06.08

9:19 pm

The TV is flickering images from a film I've always loved. I know most people probably would never want to see it again, if they ever saw it in the first place, but Notting Hill really is one of my favorites.

So tonight with the cold air seeping through the windows and the radiator spewing out steam, I sit with a half empty glass of Le Grand Noir (or a flat Mountain Dew, whichever you prefer) resting on the hardwood floor, my eyes transfixed on a television I won in some weird college casino thing. This film has always evoked emotion in me, like most romantic films do, but tonight for some reason it's bringing out more than the usual. Maybe its because half an hour before I was trying to write some lame sad song, which is par for the course, that was failing miserably (also par for the course). But really I think because tonight I've allowed myself to be transposed into the film and let my (barely surviving) imagination sweep me away. And deep down I'm a complete and hopeless (if not somewhat of a failed) romantic and am waiting for a cinematic plot line, similar to the one Hugh Grant experiences, to storm in and take me by surprise (hopefully sooner than later).

I really love when those feelings sweep over me. Scratch that, I really crave for those feelings to sweep over me. But tonight I'll finish my wine, and pass out on the couch with the dvd menu continually repeating itself. And tomorrow I'll wake up early and drive an hour to play bass for the Lord, and sheepishly wait for something to happen (like Ben Gibbard sang.)

Sorry if this was poorly written, not to mention a bit boring, but its real and the truth and from the heart...... or some shit like that.

"I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. "....... seriously you can't beat that line.

p.r.

nailed it.

Sports. Sports. Sports. Is your whole life about sports?

NHL 2009.

As the youngest GM in NHL history. Some would say he's too young, some would say he's in over his head, few Minnesota fans had faith that'd he'd be able to lead their franchise to the icy promise land. After a disappointing .500 start he knew he had to shake things up, sending Mikko Koivu and Eric Belanger to Colorado for the aging center Joe Sakic. Many fans, fueled by various Twin Cities media outlets. Only a few days (and a few early skates) after the trade, the Wild took on the the Avalanche. At that meeting it became clear that the chemistry between Marian Gaborik and Sakic just wasn't there, as they went on to lose 3 goals to 1. This is when the Minnesota sports fans had one of the biggest surprises in the past few years sprung on them. As the fans awoke to the crisp fall air, sipped on their coffee and flipped through the morning paper, word came over the local sports radio station that Marion Gaborik and Joe Sakic had been traded the Pittsburgh Penguins for the young center Sidney Crosby. Its seems the M-M-Matthew had decided to revamp the Wild and start looking toward the future.

These next few blogs will devoted to the young GM's successes and failures and he tries to guide the Wild to the Stanley Cup playoffs.

Lets play some pond hockey!

minnesota has never been so proud.

death cab

"Your New Twin Sized Bed"

You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
With a single pillow underneath your single head.
I guess you decided that that old queen holds more space than you would need.
Now it's in the alley behind your apartment with a sign that says it's free.

And I hope you have more luck with this than me.

You used to think that someone would come along.
And lay beside you in a space that they belong.
But the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new.
What's the point of holding onto what never gets used?

Other than a sick desire for self-abuse.

And I try not to worry, but you've got me terrified.
It's like your some kind of hurry to say goodbye, say goodbye, say goodbye.

You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size bed.
You look so defeated lying there in your new twin size


-
fuck you death cab, that's all.

08.03.08

do doo do, do doo do, ahh. do doo do, do doo do, ahh. i love storms, especially when you get the rare chance to wake up and experience a storm roll in. I feel so refreshed sitting on my brown slightly used couch, in my aging apartment, letting my fingers caress the strings of a borrowed guitar while the rain taps against the window. I really hope it rains again soon. bop baaa bop, bop baa bop, ahh. bop baa bop, bop baa bop, ahh.

I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. I've been pretty tired. I really would like a day to go to st anthony main and see a movie. My apartment doesn't have a/c, its kinda a bummer, but not really. Right now there are all these weird noses outside. I think that my neighbor in the next building is packing because I keep hearing what i assume to be duct tape being unrolled and glasses tinging. At least I hope she's packing or else I should be calling the police.

Enough about me, how are you?

thoughts

i don't about you but i kinda think personal fireworks should be illegal. i don't really get them and they're pretty dangerous. eh?

july

she's a market girl, she'll take it right after you. so dance. and dance. and dance. and dance. she loves those sad sappy sucker songs. well, hey! elliot smith, we love you. seriously though you should trust me. its so hotttt in here, its hot as hades, ladies. maybe we should just turn the fan on. i doubt i told you but i love your graphic tee and scraped up skateboard. its too bad that your phone stopped working. bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop, bop bop. what?!?! i know you have a heavy heart. i can feel it when we kiss. those freim-emies will be your undoing. and please, please change the channel before the pitchers give up any more home runs. hopefully one of these days, i'll get a real job, one that actually pays. like my dad did. you know if you stand on that chair, it'll probably break and you don't have money to buy a new one. i like that you only write pseudo-love songs or at least aspire to. is this cryptic? no. probably. my upstairs neighbors are being super loud. and they dance. and dance. and run. and dance. i don't want to take you home. please don't make me sleep alone. if i could i'd only want to make you smile, if you'd stay with me a while. seriously though, lets just kill them with kindness. if you read this whole thing you're a better person than me.

tomorrows july. drink some sangria and watch this:



or my new love:

i was born a unicorn, 

i missed the arc but i could've sworn,

you'd wait for me

this is always in my head and i'm not really sure why.

So I'm watching Alfie. Jude Law is pretty sweet. And dresses killer in this movie.

06.09.08

Its 6:22 in the evening. My face is beat red and my forehead is covered in sweat. I've just completed my (now) daily run, and upped it another half a mile. It is now, laying on my hearted quilt that my grandma painstakingly made 30 years ago (probably), that I question why I did this. Well, My Chemical Romance was blasting in my ear, the sun was shinning, and it frankly just felt needed. Now, I'm kinda wondering if that was a mistake.

As I lay on my bed reading a chapter from the latest book that I'm trying to get into, I hear a low rumbling coming from the apartment complex across the yard. As I put down my book an listen intently I realize that its the happy birthday song being sung. Here's my observation, when listening from distance all you can hear is female voices singing(or almost chanting) happy birthday from a far away distance, with birds chirping and wind blowing, that shit sounds apocalyptic.

But enough about that, chinese left overs are calling my name.

Nadal won the French Open again. He's alright. For some reason NBC replayed last years Wimbledon finals. That shit was tight, dare I say TOO TIGHT? Yes. I hope this years finals are going to be better than Nadal and Federer in this years French Open. Federer is amazing, just not on clay.