Happy snow day for you east coasters! Here is a clever meshing of clips from The Office into a musical. I like it! I like it! I mean, I LOVE musicals (just ask my musical-hating college roommate…) and I LOVE The Office. Perfect? Plus, you’ll remember some of the scenes from the show and laugh out loud awkwardly to yourself. Or perhaps you are one of the unfortunate who had to go to work or school today. (I, by the way, am still doing neither.) Then, you will laugh out loud awkwardly to yourself around other people. Eek. Good luck with that.
[Posted by Kathleen. YES I KNOW IT’S BEEN AWHILE.]
I just got a belated Christmas gift, and it was the best kind of belated Christmas gift: an iTunes gift card. Poking around on iTunes and finding random stuff that I like is one of my favorite activities, and it’s even better to get to do it for free. (And not get the random bill emailed to you where you’re all “Damn…I’m just going to delete that and pretend those 25 songs at 3 a.m. did not happen.”)
I found some good stuff today, and I’ll probably post more of it later, but for now here’s a cheeky and all-too-appropriate little song for Sunday night:
Greetings, earthlings. After the most exciting Saturday night ever (I ate half a block of cheese, apple slices, 3 pickles, a piece of pizza, BBQ chips, and a bowl of chili. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.), I find myself slothing on the couch of fellow blogger Mal and dear friend Ms. Potter. Naturally, I have been catching up on all the interesting news that I missed whilst stuffing my face with high sodium foods. Here we go:
*Michael Phelps smoked a bong, oh my! AND THERE IS PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE! I’m not surprised. He swims fast but in his spare time, he likes to move slooooooooooow. Here’s the best quote from the story:
“He looked just as natural with a bong in his hands as he does swimming in the pool. He was the gold medal winner of bong hits. Michael ended up getting a little paranoid, though, because before too long he looked like he was nervous and ran out of the place.”
Haha. Five bucks the kid who said this quote was stoned out of his mind and giggled for hours after saying “the gold medal winner of bong hits”. Here’s the picture.
Whoopsies! But in all honesty, this guy takes six drug tests a day, I hardly think he’s a pothead.
*Lisa Loeb got mawwwwwwwied! She married Roey Hershkovitz, a teevee producer. You can read the cute NYT announcement here. Oddly enough, there’s no mention of her E! show, “#1 Single”, which chronicled her miserable dating life and her never-ending, desperate quest to get married. Funny they didn’t mention it. Eek. Here’s a video of her actual number one single, “Stay”. LOVE THAT SONG. It’s so 7th grade angsty. But congrats to LL and her man!
* If you watched the inauguration, you saw Aretha Franklin and her [insert adjective of choice] hat. Her hat is historic enough on its own, apparently, because the Smithsonian Museum has requested it.
“I am considering it. It would be hard to part with my chapeau since it was such a crowning moment in history,” says the Queen of Soul. “I would like to smile every time I look back at it and remember what a great moment it was in American and African-American history. Ten cheers for President Obama.”
And then she went on about being a natural woman and all that jazz. What do you think about her hat?
So no SERIOUS news, just things I find interesante (that’s Spanish for “interesting” FYI). I need to go eat sodium free foods. I’ll post more exciting things later, I promise. Happy Superbowl Sunday! GO CARDINALS! Honestly, I don’t care, but I’m rooting for them because running back Tim Hightower is a RICHMOND SPIDER.
I randomly bought the City and Colour song “Sleeping Sickness” on iTunes because when all of my college friends and I slept for days on end in the weeks after we graduated, we called it the sleeping sickness. Which is to say, we were all probably mildly depressed because life REALLY sucks for a while right after you graduate from college.
So I bought this song and kind of forgot about it, but it came on my shuffle the other day and I was all, “Hey! I like this! Where did this come from?!” Now I’ve been listening to it on repeat, as I’m apt to do. I really like the second verse, when the other singer (Gord Downie, thankyouverymuch YouTube) comes in. It’s a nice surprise, and there’s something very raw and appealing about his voice:
I debated for a while about whether to post the official music video or a live video, and for purposes of quality, the official video won. I rarely like a music video better than an actual live performance, and frankly who really watches music videos anymore? I’m starting to think they’re a lost art. But hey, as long as someone keeps putting that stuff on YouTube, I’ll keep posting it here.
This weekend, I was up in NYC visiting friends, and on Friday night I saw Joshua Radin (!!!) in concert. I was crazy excited about seeing him. He put on a good live show, brought Ingrid Michaelson out with him to duet on “Sky,” and we hooked up after the show. Most of that is true. Speaking of Ingrid Michaelson, she wasn’t wearing pants on stage. She had a longish sweater on (just BARELY covered her ass-thigh junction) with tights. Ribbed, partially see-through tights.
Ladies, do I need to say it again? Leggings are not pants. They should not be worn as though they are pants. And if LEGGINGS are not pants, it logically follows that PARTIALLY SHEER TIGHTS are ALSO not pants. Ingrid, I think you are wonderful and witty and very talented, but that does not exempt you from these rules. I hate pants as much as the next person (and probably more) but unfortunately, they’re a necessity. And Girl I Saw in Penn Station? It should go without saying that these rules apply to leather leggings as well.
But I digress. Back to the concert. My friends and I were there to see Joshua Radin, but I ended up really enjoying the other two acts as well. Jesse Harris opened, and he was great — a little dude in a flannel shirt playing a banjo. Here’s a sample of his stuff:
My friend Madeline and I stalked him a little the next day, and discovered that though Mr. Harris may have just been a rando dude in a flannel shirt to us, he’s pretty legit in the music business. In fact, he’s a Grammy-winner, and wrote Norah Jones’ “Don’t Know Why.” Pretty cool, eh?
The show was a double-headliner kind of thing, with Joshua and Dar Williams. I previously felt sort of “meh” about Dar Williams, but I like her a lot more after seeing her live. She closed with this song:
It’s probably the most adorable song I’ve ever heard, and it (clearly) made me cry. I had a lot of babysitters that I was close to, and I’ve been close to a lot of the kids I’ve watched, so this song really gets to me. It’s strange how for a few years, kids can have an incredibly significant relationship with their sitters, only to have both parties grow up and never see each other again.
Okay enough nostalgia for tonight. I have books about child abuse to read, hooray!
I should be out celebrating the four-day weekend and impending inauguration of my dear Barry with the rest of the District, but instead I’ve gotten sucked into watching yet another House marathon. It seems that every Sunday night for the past, oh, twelve Sundays, I’ve been glued to the teevee watching the delightful drama of Gregory House and crew. It’s weird, because I’ve never watched an entire season or enough shows in a row to get in tune with the relationships between all the characters, but it’s such an addicting show that it really doesn’t matter. (And I’ve watched enough to gather that Cameron and House almost had a thing, or maybe they did have a thing? Where are those episodes?!)
Because I’ve been watching so much House, it’s always a huge shock to me when I’m reminded that Hugh Laurie is English. I mean, who knew he really sounded like this?
So much more likable! I wonder if he gets really, really sick of faking the American accent of a very angry dude.
In other news, there’s um, some pretty exciting stuff happening this week. I’m not nearly as excited as I feel like I should be, except for random moments of joy where I’m all “Oh my god…next week at this time George Bush will no longer be our President.” Won’t you just feel calmer and happier knowing that he’s out of the picture? I know I will.
I’m one of those poor, common DC residents who doesn’t have tickets to any fancy balls and who doesn’t get to be close enough to the actual inauguration ceremony to ask Malia and Sasha if they want me to be their new babysitter. But still, I’m really freaking glad to be in DC right now. The sheer fact that we all get Tuesday off is exciting; it’s like we get a snow day and the rest of the country doesn’t. (Suckaaas.)
Of course, we do have to deal with the four bajillion people who are apparently coming for the Big Day. I’m a leetle nervous for that. As of now, my inaugural plans are to attend a cheesy Obama-themed party tomorrow night (think Barackli and Cheese and Sloppy Joe Bidens) and then brave the crowds with the rest of the world tomorrow. I’m still crossing my fingers that a front row ticket will turn up and I’ll get to hold Michelle’s mom’s hand throughout the ceremony. I’ll keep you posted.
In other other news, I get to see Joshua Radin in concert in NYC on Friday! So if things this week aren’t exciting as I want them to be, I can always try to get Joshua to fall in love with me this weekend.
Sometimes my friends tell me I’m delusional. Sometimes I think they’re right.
So our Argentine correspondent just sent this phenomenal video to me. Try to watch it without grinning, or if you’re a freak like me (and don’t you WISH your girlfriend was a freak like me?), prepare to cry a little, with joy:
Today, as many of you know, is the start of the eighth season of American Idol (and there’s a new judge, Kara DioGuardi, who seems saucy!). Funny, I can only name a couple winners…and a few losers. (Clay Aiken, I’m talking about you!) The best part of the show is seeing the auditions. Remember William Hung? Yeah, he released a full album. But my favorite audition of all time has to go to the one and only Mary Roach. Perhaps someone tonight might top it, but I seriously doubt it. Enjoy the musical talents of Mary Roach!
My wacky friend Colleen has a REALLY good feeling about 2009. It’s an underestimated year, she thinks, which means people will be blindsided by its goodness. (Except Colleen as she is totally anticipating the goodness.)
I have to agree with her. Or, I hope to agree with her. We’re coming out of a really shitty year overall, and it simply has to go up from here.
I had my first real New Year’s out last night (as in not a house party or random downtown adventures while underage). I know a lot of people hate New Year’s because of the pressure for it to be OMIGOD THE BEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR, and a lot of people simply hate the crowds. I totally get that, but I figured why not have at least ONE legit New Year’s before deciding to hate it.
Except I had a ridiculously good time last night. I went to a huge party that involved three bars, two DJ’s and a live band, an open bar, etc. etc. When I first arrived, I was freezing to death and couldn’t help but hate the crowdedness of it all. But once we discovered the room with dancing and beer that didn’t require a 20-minute wait and the fighting off of douchebags, we were set.
After midnight, we moved on to the live band and got hit on by creeps and bouncers and it was a wonderful time. I would, though, like to make a public complaint about the live band. They didn’t know/wouldn’t play any of the following songs:
“The Weight,” by The Band (too slow)
“Romeo and Juliet”, by Dire Straits (too slow)
“Your Love,” by The Outfield (THEY DIDN’T KNOW IT)
“You Shook Me All Night Long,” by AC/DC (they can’t sing that high)
I mean, REALLY?! And you call yourself a cover band?!
My New Year’s ended with Johnny Rockets’ french fries and milkshakes, which were UM-MAZING. If you’re ever in Georgetown, go to Johnny Rockets and ask for Mohammed. He dances and recommends great bars for you to go to after your meal. (We, um, didn’t take his advice.)
Here’s to 2009! In the wise words of The Walkmen, I know that it’s true, it’s gonna be a good year.
Let’s bring it in with the help of some mullets and bad dancing:
six words to change the world. 