Hey ladieeeees!

It's a little crazy how many new artists I've discovered solely by watching the music video channels at Crunch while plodding along on the treadmill.  Do they secretly have some kind of deal with fledgling record labels?  You'd think this would make me go to the gym more often but... no.

Here are two of my new faves: lady rappers!




Also: isn't weird how both of their videos open with shots of the street and trucks?  SO URBAN.

Denver: I hate you so much right now

DENVER!  Jens Lekman needs you!  Get on this:

Hi
I'm in Denver, Colorado for some work. I was wondering if anyone wanted to show me around?  Maybe we could set up a small show somewhere tonight?
// J

Damn it, if I was in Denver right now Jens and I would be throwin' back tallboys and jamming on the tambourine.

I had a feeling I'd get along with the Fitzgeralds

Fancy a drink?  Fancy a drink that makes you feel like a famous literary figure?  Because I do.  Always.  I'm a little obsessed with Flavorwire's compilation of famous authors and their buzz of choice.  I want to try each of these every time I need to write something and see which one provides the best results.  Right now I'm drinking cheap gin and tonic, but maybe what I really need is a gin RICKEY!  (What the crap is that, anyway?  Oh... pretty much the same thing.)  Because apparently a gin rickey makes you the life of the party:

As legend has it, both F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda were notorious lightweights, not to mention mischievous drunks. Fitzgerald claimed that he liked gin because no one could smell it on his breath – though we bet that when he and his wife were dancing naked at parties, no one really had to.

Well I'm sold.  Read the whole thing here.  Oh, and please don't party Dylan Thomas-style.  I don't want to claim responsibility for that.

Damn, this list will come in handy for my eventual library party.

I probably have AIDS now

Here is an example of just how broke I've been feeling lately:

I went for a run this morning in my balmy, 77 degree neighborhood and as I passed a gas station, I saw a dollar bill on the ground.  So naturally I picked it up and tucked it into my sports bra.

A ONE.  DOLLAR.  BILL.

What the crap was I thinking?  That my boob sweat would transform it into a ten by the time I got home??  I'm disgusting.  And I had this thought as I continued to run with it plastered against me but what was I going to do then?  Throw it back on the ground?  NO.  I ran that wet little piece of paper all the way home to my wallet.  And then showered before touching my mouth.

Good god I need an extra job.  Or a new job altogether.  On the plus side though: my iced coffee today will probably cost only 89 cents.  Woo!

Sunday

I magically had today off.  It was awesome: I had afternoon beers, pizza, and cake (in that order), I bought new running shoes, then came home and drank whiskey and made pretentious art and listened to pretentious music.

Happy June!

Cameo Blue

I told myself I was going to compile a list of good film and theatre monologues so I could stop making excuses for avoiding auditions.  I ripped a piece of paper from a notepad, literally wrote "Monologues?" at the top, and set it on my desk.

I have since then been using it as a surface on which to paint my nails and protect my desk.

Yeah... that about sums up my life right now.