My friend Ben Franke likes music an awful lot. I got to see him rock out on his trumpet tonight, and it was really cool. It was amusing to watch him going nuts with Colby during certain songs, just feeling the groove and the music and being completely animated as usual. I remember glancing over there at one point to see what kind of ridiculous dancing he was doing, and he wasn't -- he was completely submerged in the music. It was cool to see him serenely captivated by the music. I really liked that five seconds.

So, in honor of Ben Franke (and at his not-so-subtle insinuation that he is never mentioned on anniemosity.com), I have decided to post the song that mesmorizes me time after time after time after time.

"anne, you can't hide, you know we'll find you.
it's a matter where pride flies out the window.
i never got the weight off the ground - i just forgot what's up and what's down.
how many get the way i feel now?
there's no regret, there's just the sense that nothing is going my way.
there's so much that happened today.
the gods of the city have called my name; it means more to them than it means to me somehow.
i left my body, i left my fate, but is so hard to keep away now.
nothing is final because it seems all the while, there wasn't anything for me.
i always faked my smile.
there's so many careless angels responsible for me.
they give me disease; they give me a pain in my neck to feed off me, saying pay us the cost and we'll be gone.
they shut my eyes and i can't see now.
these are the times i was scared of.
these are the fates i pushed out of the way.
now they come back here and haunt me.
it's plain to see who the winner and loser will be."
-John Anthony Frusciante

visual // audio


In the comments, you can either talk about the wonder and beauty that you've just discovered via Mr. Frusciante, the songs that put you into a trance, or you can talk about how great Ben Franke is. Your call.

Hey, remember when I was all, "I think maybe dating might be cool again!"? Someone is listening; however, I don't think it's the right deity. I'm pretty sure I got asked out today by one of my co-workers at job #2... and it's not the ones I mentioned that I am developing crushes on.

It was an ambiguous enough request that I immediately (and fucking enthusiastically) agreed to it before recognizing all the obvious signs.

Rule #1 Of Working: Do Not Get Involved With A Co-Worker.
Rule #1 Of Dating: Do Not Get Involved With A Co-Worker.

I know. I know! The thing is that I already agreed to do it (and with such immediate vigor), so backing out without a good reason is out of the question. If I pull the "Boyfriend" card out of the deck, though, it destroys any chance I have with aforementioned Attractive Co-Workers.

I take it back. I take it all back. I don't want to date again yet. Dating is too complicated already, and it hasn't even happened yet.

As most of you know, I'm currently working two jobs -- one that I've had for nearly six months and one that I started very recently.

Since I've been at my new job for approximately three weeks and haven't quit yet, my co-workers have decided that they'd like to get to know who Anniemosity is. Getting to know new co-workers is a much different experience than getting to know a new friend. While you're asking a million questions ("Where does this ladle go?" "Do I put beans in this?" "What tastes like Newcastle but isn't Newcastle?"), you try to get a feel for who they are and if it's the appropriate time to start making fun of them yet. It can be a bit of an awkward process, however.

As I'm washing out a gigantic soup pot, one of my co-workers (let's call him "Thomas*") passes behind me and says, "You're kind of tall." I turned off the water and offered an awkward word of thanks (the kind that ends in a question mark). "Not in the bad way," he clarified, heading downstairs, leaving me to wonder what "the bad way" really meant.

Later, I'm attempting to double-boil some creamy chicken soup and Thomas* comes into the kitchen and says, "So I bought the most fucked up movie I've ever seen last night." I can't remember for the life of me what it's called, but the rough plot outline is that a group of villagers pray to this fishing god for awhile, and then they stop, so the god turns them into fish mutants or something. He sketches out the plot for me, highlighting the explicit mutilations, and then heads back out to the register. I stand in front of the stove in a kind of stunned silence. I suddenly didn't want to be around my creamy chicken soup and decided to wash some dishes, although the water reminded me of fish, and... well, I scrambled around for something unrelated to do for a good ten minutes. Don't get me wrong, Thomas* is cool, but I thought it was kind of a bizarre way to make conversation... although I've been known to do worse.

Also, it may be a little too early for this, but I'm developing hardcore crushes on two of the guys at my new job. God damn it.

*totally a fake name.

Oh yeah. I'm 21 now, I puked a lot, and I had a great weekend. Thank yous go to Samantha, Marisa, Carissa, Amber, Stacy, Jen, Suzie, Michelle, Rachel, Renee, Kristen, Jason, Tony (and your parents!) Dave, Dan, Kecia, Sarah, Muhs, Colby & Tony, Sammy, Jed, Bjorn, and everyone else who came out and/or bought me a drink (or got me super wasted) this weekend. Special thanks to Samantha, Marisa, and Megan for taking care of me Friday night and listening to me wail, "I don't want to be 21 anymore!"

I also got the best gift ever:






Beat that.

Hi kids.

This is my last entry as a twenty year old.

If you know where I work (job #1), you'll know where to find me at midnight tonight.

Goodbye, underage delinquency. We've had some good times. Remember freshman year? Yeah, me neither. Remember this summer? Only through partially sober blog entries.

I'm going to miss the thrill of drinking underage. I'm going to miss waiting in the car as a roommate runs into The Shanty, smoking my cigarette and grinning snarkily. I'm going to miss chugging beers before going to shows. I'm going to miss looking over my shoulder, wondering if the bouncer was going to notice how exhilarated I looked (and how shoddily I was covering the giant Xs on my hands). It was a rush, it was a thrill, and I lived it well.

But now I'll be able to split a pitcher with Rob at the bowling alley and go have a glass of wine with Kristen during jazz and sample the beers at my new job and be legally drunk in public. It's going to be weird, but in a good way.

Also, Mr. Chaperone (if you still hold that title), now that I'm 21, I'd like to learn how to talk to Al Sparhawk, as promised.... because I made some sort of gutteral noise as he passed by me on Wednesday.


I have one song for you tonight, and not because it's a song with the word "drinking" in it and not because it's melancholy, but because of how goddamn drunk he sounds singing it. I can't promise I won't sound like this come 2am.

Tom Waits - The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me) (Small Change)


See you on the other side.

I've had two songs dedicated to me in my entire life.

The first one was mid-February of 2004. The Fiendre had a radio show on KUMD and he played "Ball & Biscuit" by the White Stripes for me. I sat outside the radio station in the music hallway and listened through the glass. It was a geeky little thrill to hear my name announced on the radio and then hear my song play.

The second one was the end of May of 2004. I was not yet managing the Hardcore Jollies, but I think I was doing their website. Megan K and I drove up to Duluth for a weekend to see them play at the Norshor. In front of about fifteen people in the main theater-like room of the Norshor, Zachary dedicated Sly & The Family Stone's "If You Want Me To Stay" to myself and Megan. It was superb, especially considering there was a lot of alcohol in my system.

I saw Low play tonight in the Rafters at UMD. At first, I was under the impression that it was only Al Sparhawk, but when I got there, a giddy Dan Sarles informed me that they had just left to get Mimi and the whole band would play. All the wannabe hipster UMD fuckers were really starting to get to me, laughing and giggling and trying to draw attention to themselves and how cool they were. I stared up at Al and Mimi and Matt from the sound/lighting booth, watching Clay do his thing and reminding him that he was talking to Al Sparhawk and setting up a mic for Al Sparhawk and he just deafened Al Sparhawk.

After the opening song, the hipster bastards started to sit down, and Marisa and I followed suit. I was trying to concentrate on the show -- I obviously get pretty wrapped up in them -- but I kept getting distracted by the chatter and giggling that I wasn't quite sure of the reason for. They played "Monkey," "California," "That's How You Sing (Amazing Grace)," and "Dragonfly." Al made some awkward small talk about going to UMD and that weird fucking sculpture and eventually got around to playing "Pissing."

All of a sudden, I felt like the only one in the room. The hipsters and chatter and colored lights and pressure on my bladder and Burly Burlesque and That One Dude I Had A Major Crush On Part Of Freshman Year And Most Of Sophomore Year all faded away as they poured themselves through their instruments. Even my hero worship for the individuals melted away; it was just me and the song, me and the harmonies, me and the guitar reaching for a crescendo, me and the pounding drums, me and the screeching solo.

It wasn't dedicated to me, but that one was for me.

That's Suzie. Click on her.

Since last we met, I:
-made a huge mistake but for what I believe to be a solid reason
-have gotten over my bitterness (for real)
-wore this in public
-unofficially decided that this second job may not be working out (see #1)
-became hell-bent on seeing "V For Vendetta" (which will happen tomorrow)
-had a heart attack at the end of the first episode of "The Sopranos"
-realized that I am really boring and financially fucked
-finally got around to listening to the Arctic Monkeys (and decided that they didn't live up to the hype, although they are decent)

There may actually be a concrete post in here come tomorrow (my first FULL day off since god knows when). Until then, I leave you with the following -

Julie London - Cry Me A River (V For Vendetta soundtrack)
Semisonic - Singing In My Sleep (Feeling Strangely Fine)
Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals - Michelle (This Bird Has Flown: A 40th Anniversary Tribute To The Beatles' Rubber Soul)
Jane's Addiction - Idiots Rule (Nothing's Shocking)
Nine Days - Wanna Be (The Madding Crowd)
*yes, I still listen to Nine Days... and I can sing every single song on both their albums.... bitches.


....I'm sorry I'm lame, guys. Apparently I don't even want anything cool for my birthday.

My favorite movie scene ever is the end credits of "All Of Me" where Roger and Edwina (in Terry's body) are dancing. The camera pans to the mirror on the wall, and it shows Roger and Edwina (in her own body) dancing together, going crazy. For some reason, that scene makes me really happy.

I don't know if it's because Roger and Edwina finally fell in love and are truly at peace, or if it's because Steve Martin and Lily Tomlin have incredible chemistry, or if it's because that bitch Terry missed the boat on such a lovely moment... but I watched that movie again last night by myself and realized I had an ear-to-fucking-ear grin on my face.

I'm glad that he ended up with Edwina instead of that spoiled bitch Peggy, or even that scheming bitch Terry. He was visibly unhappy with the thought of marriage ("the 'M' word") with Peggy, and look at the skeletons Terry had in her closet. Edwina may also have been spoiled and a bitch, but she learned her lesson and came to truly appreciate life. A win-win situation.

I'm also glad Roger ended up as a jazz musician over being a lawyer. I mean, it was pretty obvious that he eventually would, but it's obvious that jazz was his passion and what he needed to find true happiness.

True happiness. The concept intrigues me. I had it at one point, but I took it for granted and looking back on it, I want to be back there. I don't wish I was in twelfth grade again and I don't wish I still lived with my parents and I'm really glad that I'm in Duluth, but that year, I was truly happy. I was constantly surrounded by the most incredible people, from my immediate family to my new friends to a few (selective few, that is) of my old friends.

I remember being thrilled to leave, but I had anxiety pangs here and there. I knew that once I left, nobody was going to make me biscuits and eggs for breakfast anymore. Nobody would understand why pretending to stab a pen in his or her neck was hilarious. Nobody would get how awesome my brothers are. Nobody would understand how great my dad's "funk" dance is. I could drink and party and sleep around and not go to class and have the time of my life in college, but nothing that I was experiencing mere months prior to that would carry over, and that scared me, because I was really really happy.

So what does this mean? Was I really happy, or just really comfortable? Did I really need other people to make me happy?

I don't know if I'm happy right now. I'm not unhappy. I don't want to move (yet), I like (most) of the people in my life, and I'm pretty satisfied with myself. Despite the fact that I may eventually wear myself a little thin between jobs, life is pretty good. Pretty good.

I forgot what I was talking about.

Rent "All Of Me" please. Not only does it include the aforementioned scene, it also showcases Steve Martin's physical comedy at its most brilliant.

Billie Holiday - All Of Me.
(Not my favorite version, but it's still nice.)

PS: Unrelated, but requested --
my birthday wish list.
There's only one (well, two) thing(s) on it right now, but I'll let you know when there are additions.
item one
item one and a half
(If you buy them together, you save $7.)

anniemosity has been a busy gal these days. Sporadic entries and days without updating do not mean that I am dead.

However, I am a huge crab tonight. I'm not going to bitch about everything, but I will mention that I went to get my car at my friend's house (who lives a block away from work), and I found a nice little parking ticket because I parked facing the wrong direction on the street.

however!
-Ghey is visiting for a few days
-I'm having my Amazing Grace breakfast tomorrow
-I finished the online class that I had to take for my bartending license
-I start my new job Wednesday (inquire within)
-Carissa, my sweet sweet Carissa, has Sunday's "Sopranos" episode taped for me
-All my roommates are gone until Friday

Most importantly, I've discovered Jesca Hoop through a recommendation from Mr. Tom Waits (me & Tom talk all the time). I don't have any tracks for you, but she has some clips on her website, and her album is only $6 on iTunes. Do it.


fin.

A lot has happened in the last five days: the Oscars, Kirby Puckett, a second job, my boss getting drunk, South Dakota making abortions illegal, the new season of "America's Next Top Model," David Hasselhoff beating his wife?, snow/no snow/snow again, and the debut of Buegler's excellent new blog.

There's something much more important that's happened in these last five days that needs to be acknowledged.

I bought 32 waffles. For $4. I know. I know! Your initial reaction ("Get the fuck out! Are you serious?") was mine as well.

I'm absolutely obsessed with breakfast food. If I was forced to only eat waffles and scrambled eggs and toast for the rest of my life, it'd be the best forced choice ever. I rate restaurants by their breakfast menu. That's probably why I like Perkins so much -- a place where I can get breakfast 24/7? I've recently discovered the bliss that is Papa Don's in Superior. They deliver omelettes to my place of work at 9pm. Shut up! I know! That's really exciting.

You know what's really great about restaurant breakfast platters? The fact that a meal is generally the same price whether you get pancakes or toast. Now, I'm not a pancake kind of gal, so I usually get the toast. But ohhh... that restaurant toast.... there's something about it that's so much better than toast you make at home. It's probably the fact that they submerge it in butter... but man, it's so good. I love restaurant toast.

I'm getting really hungry. I need to go make some waffles.

But before I do, I have songs for you! I haven't done a proper Weekly 5 in a really long time. The theme is: songs that I get really excited about... like if I were ordering toast at a restaurant.

-Missy Elliott - Slide (Under Construction)
I heard this song on Friday after work, and I haven't gotten over it yet. I was making dinner (breakfast, naturally) yesterday and I started saying, "Mah twankie looks stanky on the bennnnzzzz and don't I gotta look shweet for my mennnnnzzzzz..." Missy is the queen of hip hop. Everything she does just fucking rocks.

-Primus (feat. Tom Waits) - Coattails of a Dead Man (AntiPop)
I know, right? Primus AND Tommy? Apparently Tom & Les Claypool collaborated a few times. I'm desperately trying to get my grubby little hands on some of these tracks. I'll let you know. Anyway, it's widely believed that this song is about Courtney Love. Makes sense. I'm not going to lie -- this song is weird... but what else do you expect from these guys? Good shit.

-Crew Jones - Banjones (Who's Beach)
Hi, Mic Trout. I know you're in Africa & all, but I've been all about this song lately. Actually, I've been all about the whole album. Support local artists, bitches -- buy "Who's Beach." You won't be disappointed.

-Prince - Pussy Control (Gold Experience)
This is maybe the best song ever. I know, I say that all the time... but disagree. Say it: "'Pussy Control' is not the best song ever." See, you know you're lying to yourself. (Special thanks to Pelowski for this one.)

-Johnette Napolitano & Danny Lohner - The Scientist (Wicker Park soundtrack)
This is an amazing cover of a pretty good song. It's haunting and melancholy and slow and sweet. I like it very much. Almost as much as the waffles I need to go make right now.

anniemosity.com's newest video
(mpg, 4.84mb)


If anyone else wants in before the final product is released, now's the time to let me know.

So I've been thinking about dating lately. Not that my schedule leaves me a lot of time to date anybody (seeing as I work like six nights a week)... but I've been thinking that maybe maybe dating isn't that overrated.

I went on a few dates with a guy this summer... until I got sick of his hair. And his ego. Well..... no, seriously, his hair was ridiculous. Before then, I dated this guy (The Republican, as I kindly refer to him) over winter break last year. And before that, there have been guys here & there, but no real dating has occurred.

I swore off dating completely after a horrific high school experience. I figured I'd have sex the rest of my life without relationships and just end up marrying the person I liked to have sex with the most.

But I'm maturing, remember? I'm growing up and learning how to do things, and maybe I should add "learning how to date" (because I'm absolutely awful at it, believe me) to my to-do list this year.

The more crushes (infatuations, really) I collect, the more I think, "I should actually try to date one of these guys." In a normal situation, I could just put myself out there and go for it, right? Well, you forget that I am the Queen of Awkward, and it gains intensity when I'm trying to talk to boys I like. (Ask Megan -- she'll testify... that bitch.)

Also, I've noticed that I don't really have a type anymore. Maybe that comes with maturing. I used to like my guys skinny... like, visible hipbones skinny. Apparently that is no longer the case, which shows I've grown out of my emo phase. (Almost. I still do that awful b&w emo picture thing, but I'm a blogger, so I have an excuse. And look -- I'm smiling in this one!)

I don't have a point. My point is that dating is weird and foreign to someone with such a socially crippling amount of awkwardness. Maybe that'll be my other post-New Year's resolution: learn how to date.