I Have A Little Idol-Worship Crush, So What?
On Sunday morning, I went digging in my bag to find some gum. Instead, I found a Poloroid photo someone had taken of the Object and me in our supremely classy Halloween costumes (neither of us wore our respective Kate-Moss-and-Pete-Doherty-on-a-coke-binge costumes to our work pageants. Wait. Dressing up in costume at work? I got a memo encouraging us to dress up, but to be tasteful. Tasteful Halloween costume? Why even bother?) In the photo, we're not aware of having our picture taken; some stranger just randomly took a Polaroid of us and then surreptitiously slipped it in my purse without stealing anything. Just a little creepy.
Speaking of creepy, I haven't spent all my time since Sunday's Decemberists show obsessing over the Decemberists. I took a little time off yesterday to go see the Tape's N' Tapes show. It would have been one of the best shows of the year if drummer Jeremy Hanson could have kept the beat; at one point Josh Grier (Tapes 1) had to actually count out the beats for him. By the way, Jeremy Hanson looks a lot like Mark from Step-by-Step on the ABC TGIF lineup. All that said, if I suddenly get a plane ticket in the next few days, I will absolutely fly to France to see them play with the Pipettes.
Look: Decemberists! OMG! OMG! (They make me a little gushy and shrieky, ok? Shut the fuck up.)
In other creepy happenings, someone has been actually reading my dreams. Oh, what I would give to have been there? "When he does look up, makes eye contact here or there, it’s a bit startling- the sudden realization that you are in a living room with Colin Meloy and he’s singing just for you?" If forced to have an actual conversation with him, I would probably just whip out a bizarre and nervous catachresic monologue, the likes of which the world has never seen before: "Oh, hi Colin Meloy. So, um, I was on a dirigible, palavering with some crone who tried to convince me that she was the ne plus ultra of socialites when it came to these mucilaginous rugrats surrounding her. But seriously, I love kids. Can I hold Hank?"
It weirds out the sane side of me that the obsessive girl-to-idol crush side of me knows the name of Colin Meloy's baby, as well as the names of the three props he used to bring to all his shows (didn't see EriK, Cheryl, or Maya Angelou the other night at the show... were they there? Did Capitol make them ditch 'em?).
I would have liked also to have been at the Pitchfork interview. Also, I'm going to cry a bit if I don't win the signed Decemberists ukiyo-e print
being given away on a blog the name of which I'm not going to tell you, because you'll go over there and hurt my odds. Seriously, why do you all want to make me cry?
Look! More Decemberists! I just wish Colin Meloy's $300 haircut made him attractive.
Speaking of creepy, I haven't spent all my time since Sunday's Decemberists show obsessing over the Decemberists. I took a little time off yesterday to go see the Tape's N' Tapes show. It would have been one of the best shows of the year if drummer Jeremy Hanson could have kept the beat; at one point Josh Grier (Tapes 1) had to actually count out the beats for him. By the way, Jeremy Hanson looks a lot like Mark from Step-by-Step on the ABC TGIF lineup. All that said, if I suddenly get a plane ticket in the next few days, I will absolutely fly to France to see them play with the Pipettes.
Look: Decemberists! OMG! OMG! (They make me a little gushy and shrieky, ok? Shut the fuck up.)
In other creepy happenings, someone has been actually reading my dreams. Oh, what I would give to have been there? "When he does look up, makes eye contact here or there, it’s a bit startling- the sudden realization that you are in a living room with Colin Meloy and he’s singing just for you?" If forced to have an actual conversation with him, I would probably just whip out a bizarre and nervous catachresic monologue, the likes of which the world has never seen before: "Oh, hi Colin Meloy. So, um, I was on a dirigible, palavering with some crone who tried to convince me that she was the ne plus ultra of socialites when it came to these mucilaginous rugrats surrounding her. But seriously, I love kids. Can I hold Hank?"
It weirds out the sane side of me that the obsessive girl-to-idol crush side of me knows the name of Colin Meloy's baby, as well as the names of the three props he used to bring to all his shows (didn't see EriK, Cheryl, or Maya Angelou the other night at the show... were they there? Did Capitol make them ditch 'em?).
I would have liked also to have been at the Pitchfork interview. Also, I'm going to cry a bit if I don't win the signed Decemberists ukiyo-e print
being given away on a blog the name of which I'm not going to tell you, because you'll go over there and hurt my odds. Seriously, why do you all want to make me cry?
Look! More Decemberists! I just wish Colin Meloy's $300 haircut made him attractive.
posted by The Goo at 10:16 PM
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