Educated

Listening to The Joy Formidable (A Balloon Called Moaning) (Again.) Can’t stop listening to this album. Seriously, my OCD about this band is borderline obnoxious. The album is just so good! And look how cute they are! They’re from Wales, now based out of London, and are releasing a single from their new album on October 10 called “I Don’t Want to See You Like This.” I will be hitting that hard, rest assured. I’m in a list-making mood tonight after jotting down some short- and long-term goals. Hence: Reasons why my obsession with The Joy Formidable is warranted: Their bass player’s name is Rhyddian Dafydd Their lead singer’s first name is Ritzy They fucking rock the fuck out Upon a cursory skimming of The Joy Formidable wikipedia article I noticed that they’ve had a fan-made video banned from YouTube because it contained masturbation. And the best part – “masturbation” is an active link in the article. You know I had to follow it. This led me to the wikipedia article on masturbation, which the author chose to illustrate with a painting by one of my favorite artists, Gustav Klimt. I’m not convinced it’s a Klimt though. Looks more like something by Egon Schiele, another of my faves. My living room is full of Schiele’s paintings (none of which showcase masturbation, but all of which creep out a few of my friends. Not sure what this says about them. Or me.) The best part – this article has an active link to an article on masturbation marathons. The logo for the Masturbate-a-thon is truly something you need to see....

Rewarded

Listening to The Joy Formidable (A Balloon Called Moaning) Have a listen – Whirring I finally broke down and bought an iPhone. Got myself the iPhone 4 on Tuesday as a present to myself for pushing out a baby on that day seven years ago, and have dedicated myself (part time) to figuring it out (the phone, not the delivery). So far, mixed results. My phone now quacks instead of rings (no idea how I did that) and I can’t seem to figure out how to place a phone call from my contact list, but it’s been cool (and immediately addictive) to get email at the pool and play Frogger while I’m waiting in line at the grocery store. (Complete sidebar – in New Jersey the natives say “standing on line” instead of “in line” like the rest of the civilized world. After 15 years here it still sounds wrong.) I tried to load about 25% of my iTunes music collection onto it but it couldn’t take it. It had a little iBreakdown on me. It suggested that it choose from my collection what it feels should be on the phone, within the available space parameters. Being an open-minded sort, I agreed (with caveat that I’d erase that shit if it didn’t meet my approval). So now I’ve got a random collection of music on my iPhone 4, but no room for new stuff. My next project, after I stop my phone from quacking at me, is to get rid of its music selection and add in just what I need on there. This will force me to make...

Infected

Listening to: America’s Next Top Model on TV My beloved nose piercing has been grieving me. I noticed a little bump growing next to it a few weeks ago that seemed to grow bigger or smaller depending my mood, the lunar cycle… I couldn’t figure it out. After some early morning online research I found out that it’s a common side effect of nose piercings, and even has a name: “The Bump.” Something about scar tissue, infection, allergy to stainless steel and/or the Apocalypse — it just sounded horrible. Fellow Bump victims offered all kinds of folk remedies to remove this thing, but no one surefire solution seemed to exist. So I fell back on my own folk remedy: worry passively. Surprisingly this seemed to work. Then out of nowhere The Bump grew. And grew. And got purplish and black and the size of a bloated pea. This happened over the course of about 6 hours. After a few minutes of applying hot compresses to it I swear it growled at me. I went to bed praying that overnight it would complete its evolution and crawl off my face. I started working at a full time contract position a couple weeks ago, so when I woke up the next morning I was horrified at what I had to bring to work with me that day — a big, blackish-purple growth on the left side of my nose. I gave The Bump and myself a pep talk. “If I’m extra friendly people won’t notice!” I told us brightly, knowing in my heart that it was a lie as black as...