I am officially in love with this album. It’s Neko Case’s sixth solo, and at first, I didn’t think it was as catchy as her previous editions. But, after listening, and re-listening – my ears most definitely feel fulfilled.
This making-of video is pretty neat… especially the part where she and the band collected pianos that were going to be dumped, refurbished them and recorded a piano orchestra in a barn.
She will be in SF on June 9, I can’t wait!
Today I took the train, a more frequent occurrence than ever before, now that my parents live just a short ride away. The train is way better than sitting in the traffic that builds up between SF and Sacramento. It can be brutal… 90 miles has taken me up to four hours! But, alas, the train saves me from this painstakingly boring, frustrating and road-raging journey. I just sit back, in the AC, watch the scenery and think about how I am on a train. At rare intervals, you can see the line of cars on the freeway, moving at snail-like speeds. All I think in these moments is “suckkkkers!”
The most amazing thing about training in CA is that there are so many different landscapes in such a short amount of time. 2 hours meant I traveled through farmlands, marshy fields, industrial parks, neighborhoods, over bridges, and along the coast.
I think everyone is familiar with my thoughts on “urban composting,” a.k.a. collecting organic materials and having them picked up once a week by a truck which takes them to composting site instead of a landfill. I’m all for it, composting, that is. Cutting down on harmful levels of greenhouse gasses is right up my alley. I also enjoy the idea of harvesting nutritious soil out of particles from your very own food waste.
My problem with composting arises only when it is done in small apartments, under the sink.
This bothers me because of the smell. I walk into my apartment (keep in mind this place is TINY – only three bedrooms, narrow hallway, bathroom, and kitchen), and I am confronted by rotting vegetables, tea bags and banana peels. It is rank. When you open the cupboard a swarm of fruit flies catapult upward and stick to your teeth. It’s like being in the Outback in the middle of summer, but I’m just in my kitchen throwing away a Diet Coke can (into the recycling bin). I have tried a covered container, I have tried storing the compost just outside the front door. I’m out of ideas. It’s unlikely that I will be able to convince my room mates that saving the Earth smells bad and we shouldn’t do it. I need some serious suggestions on where to proceed from here.
That said, I’m totally into my Reusable Bottle which I got at the adorable Eco Boutique on 18th. I’ve discovered that drinking from metal is way more fun than sipping from plastic, and it’s better for the environment too!
Tell me why my iTunes screen is purple. I love purple, but it’s driving me nuts, because it looks like something is wrong.
Sometimes it looks like this (good):
But mostly it looks like this (bad):
The first time I noticed a girl outwardly claiming to be a “Daddy’s Girl,” I was in high school. This chick wore a tee-shirt announcing, in gold applique cursive, she and her poppa got along well.
In college a fellow classmate wore a gold chain with a “Daddy’s Girl” charm attached.
In the past few weeks, I’ve seen several tattoo-clad ladies, with “DADDY’S GIRL” splayed across their flesh.
All of this “Daddy’s Girl” business makes me feel weird and it also makes me uncomfortable when anyone over 12 calls their dad, “daddy.” Let me be clear here. There is a difference between “daaaaddy” and what sounds like “deddy.” Calling your paternal figure “Daddy” is extremely common in the South, and when Southerners say it, it sounds like ”Deddy.” My grandmother, from the South, has forever referred to her parents as Mother and Daddy. I never think that’s strange. That’s like me calling my dad, dad. But, if you are from anywhere other than the South and you call your dad “daddy,” I tend to cringe.
Additionally, there are such things as “daddy’s girls.” That seems to be fine too. If you get along with your Dad – awesome. If you have a special bond with your father – rad. If you prefer your pops over you mom – fabulous. But if you adorn your attire with announcements of your affections, it’s kind of repulsive and sends me into a tizzy of confusion and caution.
The assumption in claiming your “daddy’s girl”-ness, is that you are spoiled and privileged – even if your not. It’s like, “My daddy loves me sooooo much he bought me this tee shirt and Volkswagen Jetta to match.”
Also, in a strange way, it shows you father’s ownership over you. You aren’t your own girl, your daddy’s.
I can’t try hard enough to establish myself outside of my parents. It’s not that I don’t love and admire and adore my mom and dad, because I do. But, also, I’m trying hard everyday to become my own person. To identify as anyone’s “girl” makes me shiver with fear. Identifying as a “daddy’s girl” would only make me feel young and small.
I cannot ignore the current sexualization of the word “daddy.” If someone my age says, “My Daddy gave me this car,” it freaks me out because I totally interpret this to be sexual.
I think Freud probably had something to do with this. His popularization and idea of Oedipal relationships between parents and their offspring has sort of leaked into everyday thinking about familial relationships. In fact, there is actually a book, Relative Intimacy: Fathers, Adolescent Daughters and Postwar American Culture by Rachel Devlin, that explores the history of “daddy’s girls” – what it meant then (1920s, 30s, 40s, 50s) and what it means now. (Great article here!)
The most interesting part is what it currently means to be a “daddy’s girl.” Why do girls have this need? And why publicize it? I think Delvin is on the money (pardon the pun) when saying today, being a daddy’s girl is about commercialization. Most girls want their Dads to love them and thus buy them things to show it. If some chick is advertising that this is the relationship she has with her dad – other ladies get jealous, they desire that as well. It’s like any good clothing trend.
I hope this “Daddy’s Girl” attire sticks around as long as parachute pants did, but, something tells me it will be more like the fanny pack, continuously re-invented.
After a series of unfortunate events – I have decided to get organized. I’m starting with what I know – lists. I have started keeping several notebooks.
#1
Budget book. I am actually going to keep track of my money and where it is going. In the past, my expenses have been minimal, so I was able to track $ without actually logging it. This is not the case anymore. Hence, the book. Towards the end of the mini-spiral, I keep a wish list.
#2
“Culture” book. A simple moleskine notebook, with three tabs = everything I should read/see/listen to. I created tabs for “BOOKS,” “MUSIC,” and “MOVIES” and I have used this book everyday for the past few weeks. It’s really handy.
Of course, I’m still listing short-term and long-term goals (lest I forget!). And this weekend … I’m tackling the filing box that I haven’t touched since the summer. It’s time to help me help myself!!!!
There are allergies in the air!
Someone needs to invent wireless headphones. I am rough on my mini-speakers, and I’m tired of having to buy a new pair every few months.
I would so totally buy a pair of wireless ones. I don’t think I’m alone in this.
