January 2010


New this week:

-How have I never looked at Apartment Therapy before?  And how can I get featured?  My plan is to paint one wall in my living room bright green, stencil a bird pattern on it using an overhead projector, then hang a car door repurposed as a message board holding up photo booth strips of my husband and myself.  And most photos on the site include a dog.  I got one of those. I’m in!

-I learned that my brother thinks of me as “goth” and my sister as a ‘hippie.”  What?  He did clarify that I was like a “new wave” goth.

-I was lucky enough to be out of town during last month’s storm.  I don’t believe in snow storms, but I am prepared to not leave my house for four days.  I don’t care if the weather will actually be 70 degrees and bluebirds will be shooting fresh flowers out of their eyes.  I’m sitting under four blankets next to a space heater no matter what.

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As if They Might Be Giants, Elvis Costello, and Wilco aren’t enough (a decision to see Spoon is still pending), now we’re getting the National back for two shows.   I’ll have to save my pennies to pay for the amazing shows that are headed our way.  Or, it’s the shows I can afford, but it’s the Ticketmaster fees that make it seem like a concert costs too much.  I wanted to avoid a rant about how much I continue to dislike Ticketmaster and don’t understand why it can charge 30% on top of the ticket price.  I even tried to better inform myself about what Ticketmaster actually does and came up with an image of a monkey holding out the empty pockets in its pants.  It’s hard to believe that in an age of convenience a third party really does that much.   Anyway, suck it Ticketmaster.  Everyone hates you.  The Ticketmaster/Live Nation merger was approved today.

In other news, Bunk’s bleeding ear is all bandaged up.  Hopefully she’s on her way to recovery.  Since I have three pets who eliminate all manner of waste on any surface they choose, I can say from experience that dog blood is the easiest to clean.

p.s.  — I have been on the Internet for e-ages (like, four minutes) trying to find the answer to what service Ticketmaster actually provides and I still don’t know. Or, I guess I know what they do, I just don’t know why a venue needs them to do it, or why the cost is passed to the consumer.

I spent some time today at Ben Franklin Crafts getting the painting of our dog framed (I know — I can’t believe that I had this commissioned, either, but what are you going to do?).  When I was in middle school I really liked craft fairs and making stuff, and just assumed that it was something that young girls liked that went dormant until middle age because I spent the last 18 years not noticing handmade home decor or having any interest in making anything that I couldn’t eat.

I’m old now, as proven by many things (that I read the Ukrop’s weekly online, purchased a Michael Buble song on iTunes, considered Christmas-related hand towels, and have grandchildren), so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that I felt the urge to decorate based on the season and then purchase a bunch of bird prints.  And then puffy paint my couch.  Ugh, that store is adorable.  I can’t believe that a modestly-sized retail space could have both Bob Marley posters and leprechaun yard flags.  I wanted neither of those things, but, still.

I’m upset that after six months of nonstop attention and time that my dog can go apeshit on a walk because she saw a cat, which causes me to FALL ON THE SIDEWALK LIKE A JERK and it doesn’t even occur to her that anything wrong happened.  “Oh Kelly just fell on her face and is writhing in pain, which is normal, only because I KEEP MAKING THAT HAPPEN. DO DEE DO. KONG.”

(my dog talks in all caps).

Happy New Year, everybody!  Our celebration was quiet and delicious.  I showed off some kitchen gadgets, and using teamwork Richard, Nichole, Jenny & I made fresh pasta, along with bread and salad (I have decided that this year I am going to be obnoxious in my self-sustainability when it comes to food for my home and next New Year’s I will have made all of the grains and have hand-fed the grass to the cow that provided butter for the table.  My goal is to be like my Aunt Jean who bakes her bread, raises her own chickens, has had bees, and this year raised turkeys).  The evening took a weird turn when my associate and I attempted to keep quiet about the dog blood* that’s on every wall.  But once Richard brought it up, he and I couldn’t stop talking about it, and then pointing it out.  Our guests looked disturbed.

I did actually think about what were the best things of the Aughts, and although the first couple of years of the past decade were duds, it ended well.  So, here are my best things (in no order)(except Netflix is #1): My associate & roommate; buying a house; Netflix (which I only got because I kept buying shitty copies of Bollywood DVDs and it was just cheaper to get Netflix and rent them.  This entry also includes my appreciation for musicals and the few months that it looked like “Sound On!” — our musical that somehow managed to involve about 25 other Richmonders — was going to happen); my cat Milhouse (I got her in Dec. of 2000.  We are aging at the same rate); Cooking to Fill the Void (I’m going to throw in my constant chum/Christmas II/getting a KitchenAid into this one)(though as it turns out the food processor is just as useful as a mixer); and going to Spain, England, and Greece.  Wilco’s “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” gets to be the best album.  Good decade, everyone!  Thanks for having me.

I don’t do resolutions because I dare you to find one thing about me that needs to be improved.  But I will try to be better about seeing shows.  Two concerts happened in Richmond this year that I really wanted to see and then failed to go to.   I still feel guilty.  So when I see a show come up, I’m going to buy tickets immediately, like I did with Elvis Costello.  Sorry Sharon Jones & Gaslight Anthem.

*We occasionally stab our dog.  Ok, not really.  Since we have had her she’s had a cut on her ear that can’t be bandaged or, as it turns out, healed, and when she shakes her head it splatters dog blood sometimes.  We have been good about washing it off the walls, but she seems to have gone nuts and it has shown up in the strangest places.  She doesn’t seem to care.

p.s. — Oh no!  Conflict.  Badly Drawn Boy’s “Hour Of Bewilderbeast” came out in 2000.  I love that album more than anything . . . but the honor still goes to Wilco because they only make good albums (four this past decade) and BDB has only made one.  Also the honor doesn’t actually matter.