Because there might be one of you out there who isn’t following me on Twitter, Google Buzz, or Gmail chat:
I updated www.lostandlonelyleftovers.com with a real doozy.
You should be subscribed to the RSS feed and sending me photos daily, anyway, but I understand that I haven’t exactly been as diligent about dropping food on the ground solely to take pictures of it to encourage you as I should have been.
Remember when Modest Mouse was so cool? When they were really emo, and no one you would consider “normal” listened to them, and not even your friends knew who they were?
And you had all of their albums and also all of their pins and also all of these homemade pins you bought off eBay, which you dutifully stuck to your messenger bag so everyone would know how emo you were wherever you went?
“Polar Opposites” came on my Pandora station yesterday, and I about died, so I immediately had to go to YouTube and find the best made-by-a-16-year-old music video for the song I could:
The lyrics are “I’m trying, I’m trying to/Drink away the part of the day/That I cannot sleep away,” and I remember being like, “Oh, my god, Modest Mouse, you totally get me.” Even though I had the easiest life and the strongest thing I was drinking back in 1999 in Ohio was Carnation Instant Breakfast.
I’ve sort of been thinking about changing the layout of my site, because I basically had no idea what I was doing when I chose my WordPress theme and only later discovered that mine was built for WordPress version 1.1 or something and was so messed up that it took the smarts of every programmer at my software company to make it look reasonable. And even now, its a complete wreck internally.
So, I’ve chosen a new layout and done a little work on it to make it suit me more, but basically all of my friends think it’s too emo for my subject matter. I like it, though!
What do you think? You know I can’t make decisions on my own.
Last night on 42nd Street, a girl in green velvet pants with patch pockets on the butt rushed by me, her tote bag full of Chinese paper umbrellas slamming into my messenger bag as she passed. I had purposely taken the uncrowded side of the street, so it was especially bothersome that she’d somehow apparently needed to be in the exact spot I was walking in. Two seconds later, she reached into her bag, and her yellow Vitamin Water popped out and rolled across the sidewalk. My gut reaction was to yell, “HAHA!”
Mentally ill?
My train this morning was not crowded. There was barely anyone on the 4/5 platform at Grand Central, and the few people who were there effortlessly filled the space inside the door of the train that pulled up. A few people were waiting to get on after me, though, so I wanted to move to the center of the car, which was loaded with free room. Two men were blocking my way, though, so I politely said “excuse me” to them as I always do.
One of them moved. He was young, good-looking, and probably has a beautiful penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side full of multiple women who love him and aren’t jealous of each other. He probably has a great job with a boss who allows him creative freedom and doesn’t mind when he comes in 15 minutes late.
The other man did not. He was in his 50s, probably lives in Westchester, probably has a wife who stopped loving him years ago, and probably never gets the promotions he thinks he deserves but all of his co-workers know he doesn’t. He stood right where he was, giant leather shoulder bag totally blocking my way. But I’m a farm girl, and having muscles means you don’t have to wait for people to be nice, so I just pushed his bag aside and stepped past him into acres of empty space.
As I did, though, the guy muttered a mean name* under his breath.
*Exclusive to this blog: that name was ASSHOLE! Unbelievable, right? Girls are not assholes!
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