I Remember A Soldier Sleeping Next To Me

“I saw Berlin last night,” I told the people I work with. They were amazed, and didn’t know they were still together even after that VH1 reunion show. I meant to say Beirut. They start with B, are six letters, and are capitals to countries that have had their fair share of strife. Or maybe I am just (too) old, or old enough to be around when the former was topping the charts. I think I had the 45.

Beirut played fairly private show at Spin magazine’s offices. They are what I call “gypsy folk” with their vagabond chic and nomadic-like swagger. Devendra Banhart and Sufjan Stevens, and Neutral Milk Hotel fit into this genre. It was NMH’s ex-drummer that helped the masses see the force of this Beirut.

The “stage” at Spin was adorned with horns, ukuleles, a violin, packs of American Spirit with cell phones resting on top, a pair of black wire-rimmed glasses, pachuco type matching Dickies outfits with bandanna headbands, and a slightly aloof fluffy-haired, regular looking kid leading the madness with a steadfast tenacity.

During the show, one of them tapped the drumstick on his bottle of beer for a song; they harmonized and enchanted, danced around and got spastic, all while Zach Condon stayed calm, his feet moving anxiously, but with caution. He apparently has had some failed attempts at wowing an audience. That was not the case here. At 20 years old, this “one man band” reminds me that feelings are free; it’s the expression that might cost you. But contained in his spot, Condon’s control over the frenzy of sound was liberating and fresh. I just hope the hype doesn’t put this Beirut in ruins.

Pretty Like A Primate

These are Pygmy Marmoset monkeys, the smallest simians in the world.
Often they are twins, but now in albino!

So, Should We Now Link Moore With Al Qaeda?

From Reuters:
"The Code of Silence" was posted on the Internet by the Rashedeen Army, thought to be a relatively small Sunni group which has produced videos in the past of attacks it claims to have carried out.

At almost an hour in length, it is the longest and most professionally made of recent postings by mainly Sunni militant and insurgent groups fighting the U.S.-backed government.


The U.S. military said earlier this week that recent intelligence indicated al Qaeda in Iraq was refining its strategy by producing propaganda and adding a political base to its violent campaign of suicide bombings.

Lifting scenes from Michael Moore's anti-war film "Fahrenheit 9/11", Rashedeen's narrator taunts President Bush in softly spoken English over graphic images of Humvees being blown up by roadside bombs, and purportedly dead U.S. troops.

Sounds Better In The Song

I work in a room with three others. We bring in our iPods, hook them up to my iTrip, and listen to music all day. Since the radio is on my desk, I usually play DJ with my iPod, but the others just put it on shuffle—that’s where you hear everyone’s guilty pleasure music. We’ve be subjected to everything from “I’m A Barbie Girl” to Michael Buble. The other day, I thought, why not, I’ll put mine on shuffle too and so what if My Chemical Romance and Kelly Clarkson happen to infiltrate the mix. That’s when I really realized that most of my music is really sad.

I went to listen to Iron and Wine play last night. Sad music.

Ray LaMontangne. Sad music.

Ryan Adams. Sad music.

Son Volt. Bonnie Prince Billy. Brandon L. Butler.

The saddest song from Drive By Truckers and Wilco are my favorites.

Possibly, my affection toward sad music is because inside we are all bruised. And we have all beaten others as well. Hearts have been tattered and torn, stepped on and crushed, from mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, lovers, personal disappointments, failed triumphs, and unfulfilled hopes. It makes us real. Or really insane. It makes us learn. We should appreciate those times. Often, those who can cope with these sad occurrences have the most character and understanding. They are never boastful or adhere to a soapbox mentality. They are quietly strong. Silently intense. It’s okay to be sad sometimes, in fact, I think it is healthy. It’s the people who walk around overly happy all the time that you have to be worried about. They are dead inside.

Sad music is hope. “1000 Oceans” just played. And I hope that after the song “Trouble” finishes, another sad one plays again.

Real Knitting Circles

I’m reading the August issue of Real Simple where my friend Valerie has a great piece on sewing for all levels called “A Stitch In Time.” In the Life Lessons section, there is a piece by Merrill Markoe, who I have (embarrassingly) never heard of before. This terrific piece on spotting narcissists (and dealing/coping with them) is full of everything I love about the style of my favorite writers. Turns out, Markoe used to be a writer for Late Night with David Letterman and other similar shows. (I’ll forgive her for her workings with Michael Moore, but it was pre-Fahrenheit Moore so….) She’s also a novelist and is a contributing bloggist on Huffington Post.

Here is a snippet of her piece in Real Simple:

What is a narcissist? Any time you find yourself living inside that classic cartoon where two people are dining and one says to the other, “Well enough about me—let’s hear what you have to say about me,” your narcissism alert bells should be ringing.

Narcissists are people who cover up shame and self worthlessness inflicted during their own screwy childhoods by doing whatever it takes to maintain the false sense that they are very special and therefore not bound by ordinary rules. This requires them to surround themselves with people who will continually pump them up by agreeing with them about everything. …“Feeding their grandiosity.” Narcissists, because they never fully outgrow a phase of infantile behavioral development, essentially live in a world that is one-person big. Therefore, when a brilliant, charming, elegant, and grand narcissist honors you by allowing you into his or her very elite cadre, it is kind of like being annexed by an imperialist country. Your borders have now been erased. The subtext of all future interactions will be “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine. Welcome to a world where there is no you.” When you are with a narcissist, his needs must become your needs. It’s not enough for a narcissist to be the center of his own world; he must also be the center of yours. If you are not mirroring him or praising him, you are proving you are a separate person, and thus a threat.

…How did I get in the middle of this stupid fight when I am not even angry? The answer: I am probably hanging out with a narcissist.

[Solution]…Maintain emotional distance.

-More in the issue.

Tidy. Smart. Thought-provoking. Silent, but loud. Nuance. Love it.

So Does That Make Me A Queen?

My mom sends me these quizzes and such via email. I did one the other day that told me I was like Debbie Reynolds. The description read: You are cute and everyone loves you. You are a best friend that no one takes the chance of losing. You never hurt feelings and seldom have your own feelings hurt. Life is a breeze. You are witty, and calm most of the time. Just keep clear of back stabbers, and you are worry-free. Hilarious. My mom got the same result. We are totally different. She said, “Well maybe there is a part of you that is a Debbie Reynolds.” That’s deep.

I got a new one today and it’s called Feng Shui Horoscope. It told me the following:
You are conservative and aggressive.
You try to enjoy your life to the maximum and your love life is soon to blossom.
Your love life will be great; you will find your soul mate.
Your life will take on a different direction, it will be the best thing for you, and you will be glad for the change.
Jennifer is your best friend.
You will have 8 close friends in your lifetime.
You are a laid back person.
You are loyal to your friends and your lover, and are very reserved.

Hmmm...a bit more like it.

Speaking of my BFF, Jennifer, who doubles as sister, just won a clothing design and marketing contest sponsored by the fashion house she designs for. The line is called Cherry Pop, and she collaborated with Leila and Eriko for the win. Melody and I were their models.

How very Debbie of me.

Made In China

I want to squeeze this until the umbilical cord bursts.

It's a half pound newborn Panda, and the heaviest cub ever born in captivity.

Blacking Out

There is something about this heat that is making some people very generous. I got my free Starbucks iced café con leche today and the owner of the company I work for bought the entire office pizza, and also invited everyone to a BBQ, cocktail-infused party tonight at his apartment. (There are cases of liquor and booze outside my office waiting for transfer.) My boyfriend just told me that his company got them all smoothies.

While this is all terrific, it is God-awful hot outside, the kind of hot that if the only place in the entire NYC-area with a/c was at an Elizabeth Hasselbeck praise-party, I would suck it up and attend. Although that bitch was on Survivor, so maybe she’d rough it like the rest of us with our not-fully-functioning “cooling appliances.”

Bloomberg said we should turn our thermostats to 78 degrees. I know we are all listening. I wonder how cool it is in Mike’s house?

Definitely not as frigid at it is between Hasselbeck’s legs. Ice. And I'm being generous.

By the way, it is snowing in South Africa.