Monday, August 25, 2003

Items from the last 6 weeks

-A check is in the mail. For real now. Should be in the next week or two (or maybe three). I’m obviously excited, but it’s hard as hell to practice fiscal responsibility when I know I will be getting a fair bit of money pretty damned soon. On that note, if you can think of any CDs I should most certainly own (especially classic or indie pop, a la Big Star, Raspberries, Velvet Crush), do comment me about it. CD buying bender soon, baby!

-I am not living in a bus station! I got a nice place in Urbana, close to some of my favorite things (the best local coffeeshop, my indie rock label/store, the hippie grocery store and deli). I’m living in the basement, so it’s a little musty, but it’s got a nice front yard, a lovely porch in the back, and… a PUPPY! Well, the puppy belongs to one of my four roommates, but I do enjoy having a dog around, especially since I’m not the person primarily responsible for it… all of the fun, none of the cleaning up messes. Score! Also, toothpaste is more fun when it’s German.

-I spent another fine weekend in the HP. I went to my first MLB game on Friday (Sox-Rangers, 7-1 Sox baby! Go Valentin!), which was quite fun… especially since it was Elvis night. Why Elvis night? Why not! All I know is that there were Parachuting Elvises, and I enjoyed them even though they didn’t get caught on the foul poles. In news that probably doesn’t surprise anybody who knew me in high school, I got into a situation where someone threatened to toss my bra off the upper balcony of the stadium. The crisis was averted.

Saturday was pretty low-key, though I did introduce HEP to a few of the joys of Evanston, namely Dave’s Italian Kitchen (and its apparently killer wine list) and running around on beaches that are probably private property. Just a note—my Evanstonian friends really need to come out and eat cheap and get drizzunk with us at DIK sometime. (Jan, Flax, I’m looking at you, kids.)

On Sunday, I saw Come Feel Me Tremble, a documentary about Paul Westerberg. I hate to say anything bad about him, but I must admit, he is perhaps, maybe, just the slightest bit self-indulgent these days. He talked about how he tried touring with a band, but that the songs just sounded better with him on guitar. Thing is, they really don’t. Really. I also was amused by the complete lack of Replacements songs for the first hour or so of the documentary, followed by an ending comprised of four or so Mats songs in a row. Also, if Paul Westerberg is sober these days, I am really, actually Princess Leia, lightsaber and all. Ain’t no way. I mean, I always knew he was a self-indulgent, drunken prick, but now all of his songs are about him having ADD and smoking cigars. I had to go back and listen to Tim and Let It Be and Pleased to Meet Me to reassure myself that he was, at one point, really, truly amazing.