i need to make a very important point.

pep band is made for music like the theme songs to "hawaii five-o" and "the muppet show." songs like "kiss him goodbye" and "louie louie" and even "soul man" are appropriate pep band songs.

not "money" by pink floyd.
not ever "money" by pink floyd.

i don't care if you can write a nice trombone part to simulate the bass line. i don't care if you can have a kickass saxophone solo like the original. i don't even care if you can make a cool-looking formation for your marching band to do during it.

"money" by pink floyd is NOT a song for pep bands.

happy birthday to me (er... from friday)


i'm going to see u2.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

worst movie ever. seriously.

i take that back. i have, in fact, seen worse movies. but this goes down in history as the worst sequel i have ever seen. "get shorty" was such an awesome movie. i think the premise of "be cool" was fine, but the execution left much to be desired. i think i would have had an equal if not more amount of fun by taking my $5.50 and flushing it down the toilet, watching it spiral into the depths of the plumbing system.

there were multiple times my brother and i almost walked out.

"why almost?" you ask.







THAT'S WHY.

he was the only thing worth watching the movie for. and damn, he was amazing. every time my brother and i conversed about leaving the movie (which was a surprising amount for not actually doing it), THE ROCK would come onscreen and make me forget that i was hating this movie. i guffawed. i turned to my brother and said, "thank god we didn't miss this!"

and then it switched to fuck, steven tyler.



i love aerosmith. almost enough to wash their socks in lavender water (nice, a reference!). but fuck, man, this guy cannot act. there's a scene where chili palmer is asking steven tyler what he was thinking and feeling when he wrote "sweet emotion." tyler goes on to tell him all about it. chili then attempts to convince tyler that he is completely wrong and that chili, in fact, knew exactly what tyler was thinking about when he wrote the song. and you know what mr. steven tyler said to that?

"..........whoa...... y.... y'know what, chili? i think you're right. i never thought about it like that before."

fuck.

the other saving grace of this movie is this man:



andre 3000. he was fantastic. not as great as THE ROCK, but great nonetheless. especially when he's drinking tea. watch for that.

actually, don't watch for that. don't watch this movie for any reason, unless it's free or you think it's worth paying full price to see vince vaughn make an ass out of himself by yelling "beeeeeeeeyyyyyaaatttccchhhh!!" every ten seconds.

or unless you really want to see THE ROCK. god he was awesome.

now that you've read my movie review riddled with profanity, i leave you with this:



hell yes.

i had my first ikea experience today.
the ikea in bloomington in huge. gigantic. i was overwhelmed to the level that i could only stand there and stare blankly at things. they have some nice furniture and everything with unusually reasonable prices, which may lead you to believe that it's just a run-of-the-mill furniture store that takes up an abnormally large amount of square footage, but you would be wrong in assuming so. this place is amazing.
and i'm not the only one who thinks so. the couples were out today -- young and old alike, looking for things to furnish their new places or to spice up their tired living spaces, and everyone was enthusiastic about everything they saw.
"oh my," i heard an older woman say, "look at this tacky loveseat. it's so tacky! john, come look at this tacky, tacky loveseat. tacky, tacky, tacky. john, come sit on this tacky loveseat with me. see how awful it is? it's so tacky. tell me how much it costs. how much? that's pretty reasonable, do you think it would fit in our foyer?"
a big man wearing a vikings jersey was trudging behind his wife. her eyes shone as she looked at the sheets on the bed in the fake bedroom on the showroom floor. the big man grunted, concentrating on his shoes. his wife lead him to the fake bathroom and fawned over the towel rack. the man grunted again, staring at the tiled floor and glancing at his watch. the woman flitted over to the fake kitchen and began admiring the glasses on the table. the man grunted a third time, trying not to look interested. he turned his back to her, but something caught his attention. a gleam appeared in his eye. "honey!" he cried, enthusiastically. "look at these cabinets! we've got to have them!"
the most interesting couple, however, was a young man and his girlfriend, who were ten steps ahead of us the whole time. i had the privilege of hearing their fascinating conversations throughout the entire trip through the store. i believe the phrases, "yo, these pillowcases are the bomb!" and "baby, that office chair would look phat in the office!" were uttered.
ikea caters to the likes of everyone. even poor college kids looking for something to spruce up their shoddy living spaces. i'm giving it an A-.
(it would have gotten a better score, but the down escalator on the way out was more of a slope than steps. i got hardcore vertigo and would not relive the experience for anything.)

oh yeah, ps: if you search for "ikea" in the yahoo! image search, there's a surprising amount of x-rated pictures that come up. just fyi.

for the last 24 hours, i have been late for everything.
i was planning on going to bed at about 1:00 last night. i ended up going to bed around 3:30... closer to 4:00, actually.
i woke up at 9:45 this morning. i have class at 10:00. i needed to print some images for a critique, therefore arriving at class at 10:15-10:20.
i got a lunch invite at 11:53, just as i had stepped out of the shower. "ten minutes," i promised. i arrived at lunch at 12:17.
being late is something i strive never to do, and i'm prone to it for some reason. i am late for every vr&c class i have. every damn class. i leave earlier and earlier, and for whatever reason, i'm always late. so late, in fact, that i don't get a computer half the time, so i have to sit on the side of the room and wait for some misplaced dumbass student to realize that there's a class going on.
i'm making it a goal to not be late tomorrow for vr&c. i think it's a little too ambitious of me to say "for every class i have for the rest of the year." we have to start small.

on a completely random note, i really like browsing through the celebrity playlists on itunes.
i also like when celebrities get so self-absorbed that they put multiple songs of their own doing on their list. the only one that i've come across that's disgusted me was sammy hagar, and he talks about them as his "favorite ____ songs." self-righteous band-stealing bastard.
and i like that rupaul has a playlist (and that she also put a song of her own on there).

disclaimer: this is a long post. i thought if i wrote enough, it would push that freaky willy wonka picture off of the blog page. and then i remembered that with my current display settings, it won't matter. but at least i can't see it anymore.
those fricken oompa-loompas.
sick. on with the post.

live music.
there are two things that i need to talk about right here, right now, concerning live music.

item number one --


that's right.
miss samantha scott and i will be seeing atmosphere at pizza luce on april 29th. we're going to be so close to slug that i'll be able to tell you how many pores are in his face.
it's going to be the single greatest event of my sophomore year. this is a solid promise.

item number two -- u2 tickets for their minneapolis show go on sale on saturday. just a heads-up if you were thinking about getting them for me for my birthday.


now, i'm going to go on and talk about u2 for a while. be warned.
i've had to defend and/or explain my love for this band a few times in the last week or so, and i've decided to dedicate this entry to the greatest band ever. yes, i'm being dramatic, and yes, i'm exaggerating. don't burst my bubble.
so here's why u2 is great.
-the edge is straight-up amazing. i dig his chord progressions. i also really like his chord structure; it's very unique. the edge chooses the perfect way to play a chord that matches the feeling he wants to put into the song. i appreciate the simplicity of his playing. a lot of lead guitar players are very in-your-face about their style. because of his chord structure, the edge has a very unique and distinct style of playing, but it is very understated. and i like that a lot.
-their albums are orchestrated better than anyone's. playing the part of the obsessive fan, i own every u2 album, and i always admire how the tracks work together. an out-of-place track can really fuck up an album. these guys just don't fuck up. (let's not bring "zooropa" into this.)
-let's take a look at their brilliant songs. "with or without you." "bad." "acrobat." "new year's day." "love is blindness." "hold me thrill me kiss me kill me." "running to stand still." "if god will send his angels." "sunday bloody sunday." "40." "ultraviolet (light my way)." "the unforgettable fire." "all i want is you." i have barely scratched the surface here. brilliant.
-i like bono's voice.
-i like bono. sure, he's full of himself, but what front man isn't? look at david lee roth, dude, he thought he was the greatest thing in the world (and he was). i think bono gets a lot of shit for being as prominent as he is, but i like that he does things with his rock stardom that make a difference. he doesn't just sit on his money and buy infinite xboxes and proclaim to the world how wonderful he is. he spends so much of his money to help kids in africa, but instead of just throwing money at the problem, he devotes thousands upon thousands of hours actually going over there and working.
-larry pretty much owns.
-this brings me to adam. i thought he was kind of unnecessary and a pretty big doofus, but i may be having a change of heart, thanks to my renewed love for their artsy-fartsy era.
-i could go on forever. but i won't.

i know that once you've reached this point, you're either a) psyched to listen to some u2 now that i've reminded you of how great they are, b) having a hardcore change of heart about the band, or c) incredibly intrigued by this band you've never gotten into and are desperate for some of their music. i'll hook you up.

god i love music.

ps: if you haven't caught on to the subtle insinuations that my birthday is coming soon (a week from friday), my birthday is a week from friday. early gifts will not be turned down.

today's topic: the greatest television show of all time.


you really can't deny it. if you're trying, it's for one of three reasons -- number one, you don't recognize the picture, so you really don't know what i'm talking about. number two, you haven't seen the show, so you really don't know what i'm talking about. number three, you are a close-minded fool.
i take back number three. i'm sorry.
but to be serious, the show's brilliance is unmatched. i dare you to find a show that has writing as engaging. i double dare you to find characters more interesting. and i triple dare you to find acting better than edie falco's at the end of the fourth season.
i would like to go more in-depth into what happens in the course of the five seasons to elaborate the genius of the show, but there are people who read this who will give me a fate worse than _______'s on said show if i ruin it for them.
i was at barnes & noble today, and i found a giant book of the history of the show, and it rekindled my love for it all over again. let me tell you, those characters have been through a lot. but, as previously expressed, let me also say that those characters are some of the most intricate and interesting characters ever devised. silvio dante, paulie walnuts, christopher moltesanti, furio, carmella, adrianna, tony... those are the good ones. even the characters that you hate (olivia, janice, ritchie, johnny sack, carmine, ralph cifaretto, etc.) are written so well that you become emotionally attached to them, despite the fact that you loathe them with every fiber in your body. and speaking of ralph cifaretto, joe pantaliano spent a season (maybe more?) on the show, so you should watch it for that reason alone.
i'm going to add in here that nearly every single one of the main actors on the show (including pantaliano) has won an emmy for their performances. this begs the question, "why haven't you watched it?" i know that hbo is expensive, but there are other ways of viewing the show -- borrow the dvds from me, rent them from blockbuster, check out the re-runs if you are lucky enough to get hbo... just get it done.
while it is in syndication, i spend the entire week in speculation. "who's going to die next?" "how long will she live?" "what's he going to do?" "omg, why did he do that?" it grabs you, kids, and it doesn't let you go.
the poetic justice here is that beginning in september, the show will begin its sixth and final season. will tony finally get what's coming to him, or will he get away with everything? and what about ______ ____? what's going to happen with him? and ________'s relationship with ____? oh man, if they don't reconcile... and good ol' _____ got shipped off to _____ because of that thing with ________, but i know we couldn't have seen the last of him. will ____ and ______ finally work out their differences? will _______ finally freaking die? will ___________ get around to mourning the death of his _______, or will he continue to be a raging asshole about it? and will the ____ realize that the ____ ____ is just a front?
if my house next year does not come with hbo so i can conclude the show with my characters, i will be quite upset. almost as upset as i was this afternoon when i saw a grown man dressed as an oompa-loompa at the mall. but that's another story.

let's take a moment here and talk about childhood scars. we all have them, and everyone has a different reaction to their triggers. some react by shrinking away and curling up in the fetal position -- the passive reaction. some react by yelling, screaming, attacking, or some other kind of violent outburst -- the aggressive reaction. but we've all got our something.
there are multiple things that scarred me as a child -- green olives, for example, left their mark on me early. when i was in fifth grade, my friend krista had a birthday party, complete with a sleepover. after eating decidedly unhealthy portions of cake and ice cream, we, being the pre-pubescent girls we were, decided that it would be a good idea to order a pizza. "green olives," krista insisted. none of us really wanted green olives, but it was her birthday after all, so we went along with it. eating that many green olives on a pizza caused a fairly disgusting consequence, especially after the previous birthday festivities. i haven't been able to come in contact with green olives since that time, and that was quite a long time ago.
green olives, however, is not the subject that i'm going to talk about here.
i'm going to talk about a movie that scarred me quite badly as a child.



yeah. that one.
gene wilder is one of the most talented men ever to grace the big, silver, or any other kind of screen. i'll watch any one of his movies in a heartbeat. except that one.
oh my god, i'm getting creeped out just looking at that picture.
the oompa-loompas haunted my dreams. that horrific song they chant plays through my head like the soundtrack to a horror movie. while i can appreciate parts of the movie on a very very very superficial level, i just cannot deal with it. there is one part in particular, however, that epitomizes the absolute disgusting nature of that movie. you know the part where that girl eats the gum and turns into a blueberry and the oompa-fricken-loompas roll her away? yeah.
there is a reason that this is coming out now. there's a girl that i live with (for the sake of ease, let's call her "kristen"), and she thinks that she's the queen of funny. for example, i really hate gwen stefani's solo music, and "kristen" thinks it's hilarious to play it as loud as her speakers will allow her to. "kristen" recently found out about my fear (i think "fear" is the appropriate word) of this movie, and thinks that playing the "oompa-loompa song" as loud as she can and watching me react with aggression is a worthy and formidable pastime. the frequency has intensified in the last few weeks, causing a sudden blogging outburst about the horror that this movie brings about for me.
i don't know if i can even talk about this anymore. i'm getting serious goosebumps.
the ironic thing is that i really want a chocolate bar right now.

i have a newfound love for sports journalism.
in the past few weeks (actually since hunter s. thompson died), i've been reading espn.com's page 2 and as much as i love (nay -- obsess over) the news and journalists who take themselves far too seriously (matt drudge anyone?), i've come to take sports journalism to heart.
i am the last person on the planet to care about sports, with the possible exception of tennis. (since pete "the king of swing" sampras retired, i lost my motivation to really care... except i feel the need to point out that andy roddick is possibly the most beautiful sports player alive.) when the superbowl came about, it was slightly embarrassing because i didn't even know who was playing until about twenty minutes before the game started. just my luck, i found myself being interviewed for a local news channel about my feelings on the game, and what did i talk about? the commercials. i got my fifteen minutes of fame, and i talked about burt reynolds. (by the way, if you feel the need to see rob talk about "puff daddy" with his usual enthusiasm, we still have that on tape.)
my point is that every time i read page 2, i am continually surprised about how much i get into it. granted, rob corddroy from "the daily show" is a frequent writer, but still, i find myself reading more and more about something i don't care about, only because of the writing style. take today, for example. i stumbled across an article by bill simmons entitled "who is the u2 of sports?" well naturally, being the giant u2 fan that i am, i was pretty excited to read it. as simmons made his analogies, i found myself wanting to know who the athletes he was talking about were. obviously i know who a lot of them were, considering he referenced jack nicklaus, michael jordan, wayne gretzky, and the like. i thought it was wonderful that he likened the rolling stones to muhammad ali ("the greatest until they hung around too long") and the police to john mcenroe ("gifted, tortured, ultimately unable to keep it together"). by the way, i'm going to take a moment here and state for the record that i still really like john mcenroe.
again, bringing it back to my point, sports journalism is a whole new world for me. who knows? maybe it will kindle a fire inside me that will someday burn for sports in general.
i highly doubt it, but the power of words is incredible. especially on a highly impressionable girl like myself.

as some of you know, my birthday is approaching. if you've been contemplating what on earth you could get me and are just out of ideas, i have a few suggestions for you.
-first of all, there's a powerbook, care of apple. we are all aware that my laptop is dying more rapidly than i can handle. chances are good that it not will survive the summer. i can't even turn the damn thing off without wondering if it will even power up again. if you'd like to alleviate my worries, feel free to purchase one of these. it's a small price to pay for my mental well-being.
-secondly, there's u2. now, there are two stipulations to this gift. 1) they're not coming to minnesota until probably the third leg of their "vertigo" tour, so in order to have tickets ready for my birthday, you'll need to get me tickets for a different city. 2) every show announced in the united states is sold out, so your choices are limited to berlin, paris, zurich, milan, rome, oslo, munich, and lisbon. airfare and accommodations are also appreciated.
-third, steve jobs has stolen my heart with this canon zr85 digital video camera. come on. that thing is awesome.
-four - not to make a pattern here, but i heard a rumor that cream is touring, with its original lineup. however, this was told to me by a certain boy from fergus falls who has a tendency to a) not pay full attention to things (the poster making incident yesterday), and b) screw up things like dates and times ("finding neverland," dude). seeing as i am unable to find any information on this at the moment, i'm either going to chalk it up to a miscommunication with glen or the fact that i am in dire need of one of those powerbooks (eric clapton's website is refusing to load).
-five - mos def. enough said.
there. you have five beautiful and perfectly acceptable choices for my birthday gift. however, feel free to improvise. surprises are always welcome.
after much thought, i've decided to add some sort of parameters to the whole "improvisational gift" idea. here are some things you should NOT get me for my birthday:
-this movie, this movie, or this movie.
-anything involving this man.
i can't really think of anything else that will end our friendship if you get me, but i'm really not worried. i know the perfect gift is out there, and i have all the faith in the world that you will find it.