on and on

I've moved....

chicken noodle!

The Asian way....

birthday extravaganza

Birthday today, and I have a feeling that it'll be a fun one. Or at least, filled with ribeye and beverages.

This weekend marked the 1st annual Tour of Asia. Olive Garden has it's Tour of Italy. The OMF has the Tour of Asia, and judging by the left-overless fridge, I hope to think that it was somewhat of a success.

Here is a list of fond memories:
1. A jammin' Lucy. She plays the jams. She sings the jams.
2. Holly: I can't play for a team that can't finish a 1/4 keg.
3. Miley Cyrus ice cream cakes are phenomenal. Having a Top 40 personality on your birthday cake is pretty priceless. More or less priceless when underage? Does it really matter?
4. John riding in on his sweet sweet motor bike!
5. OMG-Y!!! Loose Cannon team-building = shotgun ponies. I love this team and everyone on it!
6. A tired Wix, who slept through the party. And then woke up in the middle of the night to munch on some stale bbq chips.
7. The enjoyment of food. Eating really is a social event.
8. The enjoyment of beverages. Drinking is definitely a social event.
9. Liz Thompson, Wicked all-star, driving all the way to see me! Wow!
10. Works. Of the fire variety.

Overall, I can only describe the weekend as awesome. And my hope is tonight'll be more of the same.

Also, I *heart* you Alex! I'm sorry I missed your call. I would've liked to discuss with you and your long distance guests -- Val and Crider, all things unicorn and rainbows because you're all so knowledgeable on these topics. I *heart* the San Fran triumvirate.

a decision

I've decided to just...be myself.

It's naive of me to think that I could compete, and I just need to remind myself of that from time to time.

In work news and in hilariously childish fashion, my co-workers and I discussed Mianus, Massachusetts today. How would you pronounce it? And how would you incorporate it into a clever sentence?

Have you visited...?
Don't touch...?
Stop laughing at...?

The boss was out for the day, and we tend to entertain ourselves with topics such as these.

Also, F6 in the vending machine is out. Cherry Coke. It's my favorite, and apparently, Tim's too.

it's been a while

I apologize for not posting.
I've been having too much fun with the mafia.

fried, delicious, and saucy

Every now and again, I think about eating wings.

Fried ones.
Delicious ones.
Saucy ones.

Tomorrow, I think I might just have some.

If I were to categorize my thoughts in percentages, wing-eating would take up roughly 4.5%. Here's what I like about them:

1) Wing-eating is generally a social event. If you're at home, eating wings alone, then you're far more addicted to them than I.

2) Wing-eating pairs well with one beverage: beer.

3) Wing-eating often takes place while watching sporting events. Sporting events are fun.

4) There are soooo many delicious flavors!

Hungry yet?

I am.

boogie board and bag-o

There are commercials for wine in a box now.

And they make it sound so classy!
Only on Bravo.

My memories of boxed wine are not so classy.

I think it might have something to do with the fact that the wine never actually stays in the box. There's really nothing like a good game of bag-o with friends...and maybe a boogie board (ask Katie or Crider).

doctor, doctor

Prognosis: No surgery. 4-6 weeks off. Fractured scapula, where the humerus connects to the shoulder and lots of muscles.

Oh well.

Just lights a fire in the belly to play well this season. I'm itchin' to just...play.

I leave you with pirate talk: Arrrrrgh!

*hearts* for Twinkie-dom

Points for yellow:
1. I *heart* handwashing the dishes.
2. I *heart* Asian food and beverages.
3. I *heart* taking more pictures than is absolutely necessary.
4. I *heart* trying to be squirrelly.
5. I *heart* sappy music videos. Not gonna lie.

Points for white:
1. I *heart* indie music. If I could, I'd marry it.
2. I *heart* Arrested Development, Jason Bateman, and Michael Cera.
3. I *heart* coffee.
4. I *heart* scarves. Especially homemade ones Mamma Su makes me.
5. I *heart* tshirts. Graphic ones and the ones I wore in high school.

Combined, they still don't outdo my MF points! Go figure.

coaching is fun!

cherry coke spurs nocturnal tendencies

2 am and distracted by GoldenEye on the Man Channel, otherwise known as Spike TV. While Pierce Brosnan does an adequate job as our shaken-not-stirred hero, I enjoy Sean Connery and Daniel Craig best.

I've also been enjoying the tune-age of Chuck Prophet. I particularly like this one; it makes me happy.

Spent time earlier this evening playing a full 16-rounds of Scattergories with the neighbors and tussling with their new puppy Cooper (The Pooper). While there's a serial artist in feline form at Ten14, it's canine counterpart is living next door. The first time I met Cooper, he peed on me. I wouldn't consider this an appropriate greeting, but I've let it slide -- he does have cute little puppy eyes.

Currently, uploading a slideshow season recap for the Messiah girls. Hoping that I'll crash sometime soon. Cherry Coke has done me in! (But I still *heart* it.)

ridiculous. awesome. ridiculously awesome.

These few ridiculous inclusions can make or save a song:

1) A choir.
2) Moderate to egregious use of cowbell.
3) Hand claps (syncopation optional).
4) Interludes / intros / outros involving elaborate whistling.
5) Gold hot pants.

And any combination of the above could lead to sheer madness. Or complete genius. Sometimes it's hard to tell between the two.

sap-tastic!

The weather on Cinco de Mayo was amazing! Ah, the anticipation of summer.

Summer weather. Summer food. Summer fun.

I celebrated the Mexican holiday at Market St, with Coronas and cheesy cheeseburgers. Needless to say, the Coronas were thirst-quenching and cheeseburgers delicious -- especially with a sharp cheddar, and sautéed mushrooms and onions. Mmmmmm.

For a good five to ten minutes last night I was thinking about how words, spoken and written, can mean everything and absolutely nothing at the same time (or alternate between stages and increments of everything-ness and nothing-ness). It's a dichotomy! Much like me. And something I've been tussling with, along with my love-hate relationship with The Hills, and more recently, The Paper.

jukebox hero

do-re-me!

Last week Chris had me sing while I played guitar. Not gonna lie: I'm pretty horrible. But I'm hoping that once I start understanding all these chords, fingering on the fretboard'll become a little easier, and I can just sing...and sing loudly and poorly -- like a great big jerk.

It doesn't have to be perfect to be fun!

On Friday it was tablature for Hey, Jude. But I'd like to learn something more ridiculous in the future. Chord-work for I Will Survive is in the works (sample above). Maybe some Justin Timberlake, or Gloria Estefan, or Biz Markie, or some Men At Work...and my most recent Top 40 crush, Leona Lewis too (I can't get that song out of head! Arggggh...and yaaay!).

ow, quit it

A quick update.

For some inexplicable reason, I laid out last weekend at Henlopen. This is strange for two reasons: A) I never lay out and B) I laid out on defense. In any case, I missed and landed awkwardly on my left shoulder. When I got up to shake it off, my shoulder felt weak and tingly.

Took the week easy. Light running at Messiah practices and pickup, but noticed that throwing backhand really bothers it, even though it's my left shoulder. I warmed up with the Messiah girls at Regionals yesterday and...it...hurts. It hurt then, and it hurts now. I've played through pain before, but simple tasks like pushing a door open and shampooing my hair are hard. I need to get it checked out soon.

College Regionals this weekend brought back great memories, like a "homecoming" of sorts, for the Metro East alumnus. Hoagie Haven, regurgitating old Isis cheers, those pesky geese....

Coaching made it a new experience for me, in the way fashion puff paint made the t-shirt wearing experience a new one as well. The Messiah girls puff painted a t-shirt that explicitly states that I am two things: cute and Asian. On the front it says, Messiah Ultimate. On the back, it says Cute Asian.

Messiah breaking seed and being at Regionals with Loose Cannon made it a worthwhile weekend. Those Cannons are a fun-loving bunch, and the majority, if not all, seem to happily put up with my gravity towards shenanigans.

so easy to dream, so hard to say goodnight

Old News / Dr. Dog

We've got old news
Wrapped up in old blues
We can't afford to call
No we don't know where we are

Come on, we're dead on our feet but we're walking
Well let me hear you now
We've been stripped down
Hog-tied and found out and thrown into the quiet
Like sticks into a fire

Come on, I'm sleeping in the street 'cause
It's so easy to dream but so hard to say goodnight
We've been toiling our tears hit the soil yeah
Taking up a voice from a flower field of noise

Come on, a dog from the past started barking
Well let me hear you now
We've been stripped down
Hog-tied and found out
Thrown into the quiet
Like sticks into a fire

Come on, I'm sleeping in the street 'cause
It's so easy to dream but so hard to say goodnight

the saga continues

7. 7 mf'ers! Ah ah ah....

Still, the Original.

oh my, noodle soup!

hells kitchen and mo rocca

Speaking of Hells Kitchen, the one in Minneapolis is an excellent eatery if you're entertaining the thought of breakfast -- and just happen to be in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. I went with my sister about a year ago, and it was a yummy-in-my-tummy experience through and through. All the waiters and waitresses are inexplicably hip AND personable, to boot!

I'd like to visit Chicago sometime to see a taping of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me.

My thought process to get to this topic goes like this:

Hells Kitchen -->
Minneapolis -->
Twin Cities -->
St. Paul -->
Prairie Home Companion -->
NPR -->
NPR in Chicago -->
Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me

Anyway, a visit to Chicago is in order sometime soon. To see Mo Rocca. He pulls at my nerdy heart strings. I think it's the commonality of tortoise rimmed glasses and his affinity for unapologetic, unreserved goofiness. Every few episodes you'll find him stuttering as he thinks of a witty response to Peter Sagal's slew of newsworthy trivia questions.

It's cute, and I dig it as much as I dig this.

a little blue grass never hurt anybody

Here's a little recording of Big Rock Candy Mountain. I was bored with Hells Kitchen, so I thought I'd commit my shoddy guitar work to mp3 using a sweet free version of Audacity.

I admit, I'm one of those bluegrass fans that only flocked to the genre after a viewing of O Brother, Where Art Thou. Though my 6th grade string repertoire included a toe-tapping version of Turkey In The Straw, and that should count for something.

I've noticed my yet-to-be-named guitar needs new strings.

Name options (thus far):
1. JT, in honor of Jeff Tweedy
2. Zooey, the disaffected Glass brother of Salinger's Franny and....
3. Dean, as in cool cats Dean Martin and James
4. Wallace, as in the clay-mation, cheese-loving Nick Park creation
5. KD or Pixie, for one of the coolest bands / most bad-ass lady rockers (Kim Deal) around

The guitar's a Seagull S6 Original, that I didn't mind paying retail for (you should support your small, locally owned music stores, if you can). While I *heart* many things, it's one of the things I *heart* most. And if you're reading this, you probably knew that already.

Naming suggestions are welcome.

PS Was there something other than Coke in Paula Abdul's cup tonight? She was entirely too amusing to be sober.

PSS Why does Hells Kitchen seem like sorority fraternity rush week? I'm anticipating an episode where Chef Ramsay brings out the paddle and has them bend over to say 'Thank you sir, may I have another?!'.

Top Chef is waaaaay better.

nom nom nom

1. That Burger King guy is creepy.
2. 6 strips of bacon is excessive. While the idea is fantastic, the thought of it in my tummy is daunting.
3. Would the experience of Wendy's Challenge hold up to Bojangles Challenge? One thing's for sure, I won't be hustled by a Crider or an Andrea! (No biscuits on Wendy's dollar menu.)
4. My love for fried chicken and KFC's new dark meat bucket, might just rival my love of indie music, and list making, and scratch off lotto tix, and culinary adventures.
5. I *heart* breakfasts with Blair. #1: eggs (sunny side up), wheat toast, and potatoes. Delicious food, conversation, and last minute mixes made for an old friend.

Non-tangential/tangential observations: About today. People can be nice when you least expect it. And I think about food waaaaay too often.

photo booths and conversations with dolan

This Friendly Fires song reminds me of something that would happen in a cheesy 80s movies.

Picture, you and me in the photo booth?
Ok!

-----

Below is a recent gchat I had with my favorite Brooklyner. I'm entertained by it. Perhaps you will be too:

9:59 PM
me: dooooooolllllllllllllllllaaaaaaannnnnn!
hi
L: shelley!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i'm a dreamy house?
me: of course you are

10:00 PM
L: or a house of dreams?
:P
me: ooh. you're so clever with words dolan
i like it
:)

*I can't argue with any of the conjectures offered in the above conversation, and in fact, only know them to be true.

I'll explain.

I taught the Messiah girls how to set up for the dump yesterday, and I expressed my thoughts on not going with Dolan's Method of Dumping to a friend. I said it was, perhaps, unwise to teach them to point at the sky and get it, as most people are not nearly so distractingly dreamy or house-like. Apparently these sentiments were relayed to The House of Dreams by a little bird.

spring cleaning, summer soon

This song reminds me of the sound of summer...soon:
Some Constellation / Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin.

I'm going through my closet -- doing a bit of spring cleaning -- and realize that I have an awful lot of clothes that I never wear. They will be finding themselves at the local Salvation Army. But I also realize how infinitely small my rotation of clothing is. I'll wear a tshirt -- the same one -- to pieces, until it has holes in the most inappropriate places, and even after that, I'll keep wearing it for sentimental value.

I'll insist on it.

And yet, here I sit, before a pile of t's and long sleeves I've probably only worn a handful of occasions in my lifetime. Go figure.

I guess I'm just a creature of habit. Or maybe it's more so that when I know I like something, I stick with it.

a clam!

Fools Fest this past weekend = fun times.

I played one game of coed with the Penn State crew, where I was crowned Prom Queen by Enchantment In The C. It came complete with a ceremonial tiara, corsage, and posed picture-taking with the Prom King -- Cutie McCutie Pie, Jon Ferrer. I never found out how the picture turned out.

I forgot how much I loooove playing with my bestest friends in the whole wide world. And I forgot how much fun it is to watch The Crab, Judy, Alex the iBanker, and the rest of the gang shake it like a polaroid picture on the dance floor. These are the memories of Fools Fest -- and the friends -- that make me one happy clam.

Came home on Sun to an afternoon of ridiculousness at Kokomos Bar & Grill in Yo-town, where a Tigerator, The Truth, and I proceeded -- for six straight hours -- to charm the waitstaff and several unsuspecting patrons. It was our jukebox picks and winning personalities. Was in bed by 9:30 and slept like a little baby.

Work today was a breeze.

Tonight was the last, rec league bball game of the winter season. And I'll miss it -- I'll miss the hustle. We finished a close 2nd.

is boysenberry in season?

At dinner last night, someone said: It's not easy knowing that you've hurt someone.

As I consider the person who said it and look at those sitting across from me, I think about paying my bill, leaving my half-eaten, medium rare, ribeye steak, and heading out the door.

But I don't.

Thanks for that sacrosanct, Happy Meal-size nugget of information.

Being hurt by someone isn't exactly your seasonal slice of berry pie either.

Put It Down / Mike Doughty

(Going to see Mike @ The Chameleon Club tonight with Johnny E and friends. Pretty excited about that.)

duck xing has gone crazy

I've just been included on the Duck Xing list for Mars 2008. Either my drinking or my dodgeball skills have reached a certain level of abject ridiculousness.

Or both.

Who knows for sure?!

the importance of being earnest

If I remember correctly, it's an Oscar Wilde play involving mistaken identities, the quest for love, and cucumber sandwiches. I'm certain of the cucumber sandwiches.

I enjoy music and movies that are earnest -- and earnest to the point of subversion. My flu-ridden weekend was filled with a highly suspect (but fun) decision to play ultimate in cold and windy weather (the only thing missing was the rain -- and thank goodness for that), and a Sunday filled with all things earnest: Multiple viewings of the movie / musical / extended music video, Once (!!!!) and Bon Iver's 'For Emma, Forever Ago' on repeat.

taste tests, viral nuisances, and intellectual cojones

I wish these cold / influenza viruses would leave me alone. Or at the very least, I wish they wouldn't consistently bother me on the weekends. The only viruses I like are the ones happily associated with the 16-bit fun-ness of Dr. Mario. And even then, I only like it when they disappear or dance like maniacs once the music creeps to that level of uber-fastness (meaning you need to flip faster!).

Downloaded a good bit of music the last few days. In rotation (with links to samples, for your taste-testing convenience): Thao, Shipwreck, The Mountain Goats, The Dodos, Bon Iver, Vampire Weekend.

I've been reading about Vampire Weekend -- blog posts, magazine articles, etc. When the name is brought up among hipster audiophiles there seems to be a collective, vomitous convulsion. Yes, they're over-hyped. Yes, they're a pretentious group of Ivy leaguers who like to show off their intellectual cojones during interview. Yes, they wore awful preppy sweaters on the cover of Spin magazine -- the ones that make you look like you should be pipe-smoking and shooting skeet with your grandpa.

For the record:

1) I have nothing against grandpas, or the sweaters they wear. In fact, I'm positive I own a sweater aptly fitting this description...but I've never been skeet shooting.

2) I'm not a big fan of pretentiousness.

3) Bands have very little control over their own hype. Hype is what other people make them out to be.

Music-wise -- not bad, despite a small laundry list of turn-offs outside the music arena, but not the golden boys of indie rock they're sometimes made out to be. Vampire Weekend is music you can turn on while you're prepping dinner ingredients and bounce around to, a la an 80s movie dance scene with Winona Rider, a young Christina Ricci, and a top-of-her-form Cher (Yea, I said top of her form). They make a decent pop song, but to save the spine of your recently purchased, glossy music magazine, I'd simply stay away from reading the interviews.

As for the rest of the bunch, with the exception of Shipwreck favoring electric, the downloads have been acoustic deliciousness. Give 'em a shot, if you get the chance.

my my my

Stripped down acousti-goodness + sweet falsetto =
Skinny Love / Bon Iver

That's right. I said sweet sweet falsetto.
Throw in a banjo and hand claps for good measure.

bottle up the sauce

Take that flu!
Take that, and like it!

Up and at it. And feeling 100%, mostly.

Came back from vacation to a weekend virus and a disparaging letter. You tell yourself that things'll be alright, but sometimes it feels good to hear someone else tell you:

The Great Escape / Patrick Watson

Chords don't disappoint....

which dr. mario virus looks most like the flu: red, yellow, or blue?

I think that Berly and Nico may have single-handedly infected at least two of Phoenix's eastbound planes -- one to Midland, and one to the City of Brotherly Love.

I hate being sick.
I hate this achy feeling.
I hate feeling nauseous.
I hate taking medicine.
(Although this Nighttime Airborne, cider-flavored beverage isn't so bad.)
I hate feeling weak.
I hate not being able to frolic and play.

So, if you haven't gotten the picture Flu....
I'd shake my fist at you, if I could muster up the energy.

coffee and volume 14

Before I forget, I would like to thank coffee and volume 14 for keeping me awake on late night drives. You, my wonderful and faithful readers (all two of you!), should probably thank them too, as they are your unassuming saviors from a 2 am phone call. Time zones and delayed, homeward bound flights will really mess with your sleeping schedule.

A. Coffee-drinking (The Midnight Oil)

Some might find the vice diabolical. But it's certainly not so diabolical as circus peanuts, especially when coffee's trusty sidekicks are 3 packets of Sugar in the Raw and delightful doses of cream.

B. Volume 14 (Eardrums? There You Are!)

Even Captain & Tennille sound better at this setting:

1. When Bon Jovi tells you to hold on to what you've got, you HOLD ON.
2. When Kanye tells you to dig for gold, you DIG (or find it in an abandoned mine shaft in the Californian desert).
3. When Colby asks you to count her in, you COUNT HER IN.
4. When Gwen goes bananas, you spell it B-A-N-A-N-A-S.
5. When Jukebox the Ghost wants you to hold it in, you HOLD IT IN.

(etc etc)

And so, I find myself back from J Tree safe and sound, thanks to these things.

Days were spent frolicking in the desert -- meeting trees named Joshua, rabbits named Jack, and cacti shaped liked teddy bears. Nights were welcomed with homeade dinners and conversations with old friends -- ones that know me better than most, and who still seem to like me in spite of it.

Comfortable nostalgia and new memories.
The best of times were had.

For those that care to ask, I will storytell until you're part of the 'in' crowd, but the happenings were numerous, and I fear I may not do them justice. I won't b(l)og you down with my verbosity now, but perhaps a handful of things that happened at JTNP will pop up from time to time in later posts.

To the person who left me the amusing voice mail about one-way streets, I respond with this Shelley-ism, in two-part list form:

1. I don't know what you're talking about.

And....

2. If I did, it's the only way to fittingly celebrate St. Patrick's Day Eve, a celebratory night that's often overlooked for the day of.

Away now, caffeine!

Off to count sheep (bah bah bah)....

The OMF

homegrown homebrew and high school

Tonight I'll be having dinner with Blair Bear, and I can't wait to see her, and mom Daphne, and chat up a springtime storm.

I'm reminded of the many high school memories we shared together. Here's one of them:

Ray often made home-brews, and in true adolescent fashion, we found ways to have a taste (or two).

The homebrews were delicious, and strong, and tasted -- true of any good, homegrown, Irishman-made / Englishman-made beer (my confusion over the Lamb family name is a harrowing dilemma on many levels) -- like a thick veggie stew. If drinking 'em didn't put hair on my chest, nothing ever would.

I'm sure this evening will be filled with grade school memories, conversations about the greatness that is The Animal Collective, and stories about the trials and tribulations of Penn Nursing School.

For now, this* will have to do.

*High School / Jeremy Fisher

nightswimming

Inspired by Wix.

Man, I love that REM song.

I went to my 1st spin class this evening. My friend Susan was teaching, and the workout kicked my ass. So I doubt that I'll have any trouble sleeping tonight, though I once contemplated writing this letter and sticking it in a drawer somewhere -- for its therapeutic value and to find some solace on sleepless nights:

------

Dear Sleep God/dess,

Please allow me to have a restful slumber. Most times, I like sleep. I've heard that 7 to 8 hrs is good for you, and I think that would be delightful. I hope that you'll do what you can to help make it happen.

Thanks in advance.

Warm regards,

Shelley M. Su

-------

Perhaps, I should leave letter-writing by the wayside and stick with intensive workouts that remind me I really do have butt muscles.

And perhaps nights spent listening to sweet lullabies by REM will help too.

Nightswimming. Deserves a quiet night....

ingesting large amounts of psychoactive stimulant...and trees named joshua

Goodness.

I feel like a 5-year old, waiting to go to Disney World. But instead of Disney and Mickey & Friends, I'll be going to see a tree named Joshua with some of my favorite people in the whole wide world.

Along with the anticipation is a certain amount of jittery-ness. But the fact that I've ingested large amounts of Juan Valdez might have something to do with it -- he's just so dreamy on mornings like this.

Anyway, I simply...can't...wait.

chock-full of questions

Questions I often ask myself or the person across from / closest to me:

1) Where are my keys?
2) What do you have on draft (or on special)?
3) Why must Fergie insist on spelling all of these words?
4) When's dinner club?
5) Does my milkshake bring all the boys to the yard? Part 2: What would I have to charge?!
6) If I watch Tyra for the anticipation of a train wreck, does that make me a bad person? I'm only certain that it does NOT make me fierce.
7) When did K-fed become the responsible one?
8) Rhetorical: Have I ever met a cheese I didn't like? Cheese is interchangeable with cut of steak, olive, coffee, noodle soup, and London twin*.
9) Why do I have a huge love-crush on Michael Cera; can he really do no wrong?
10) Why do I listen to excellent tracks on repeat, often to it's regretful demise?

*Jeremy / Jason = cuteness galore!

tencent mix #4: timestamp, the open road

I once promised Alex the iBanker a teleportation device, so that we might visit and play whenever we please. Until I have a better grasp of wormholes, the string theory, and the space-time continuum, the both of us will have to stick with driving and our love for -- and freakishly similar tastes in -- indie and pop music, to keep us company.

This mix is for you, Alex. Sadly, it seems that I'll have to trade the automobile (zoom zoom...) for a jet plane very soon.

Here are a few additions to The List:

1) Lacrosse
2) Short story edition of The New Yorker
3) Pac Sun

sometimes unicorns puke rainbows and the evidence is in a slideshow

For those of you who've entered this cyber-house of shenanigans for the 1st time, welcome you brave souls.

There are few things more entertaining than seeing Crider in a dress, an inebriated dancing Crab, and Beez sharing precious moments with a fur-bearing mammal. If you're scratching your head and wondering what I'm talking about, the evidence is right here, set to the soulful and happy tune-age of King Floyd:



To Loose Cannon, my adorable teammates. Thanks for a wonderful season, and best of luck to all of you this upcoming one. Enjoy!

Love,

The Original

glass half full and weekend itinerary

The best part of my week has always been guitar lesson. And this week was no different. Chris' enthusiasm and patience is endless. Believe me, the latter, he needs a lot of! I've finally managed, clearly strummed bar chords. This isn't so easy for my small hands on the acoustic, but I can now play 1st position bar chords.

In the spirit of glass half fullness, here are some other noteworthy events from the week:

1) Searching for ATM's in the H-burg and perusing all that the Beer King has to offer. Cold, crisp deliciousness. The guy manning the counter was not, to a nominal amount of disappointment, dressed in kingship attire.

He was also not very impressed.

2) Catching Tim stretch in front of the vending machine, in preparation for his newly purchased Combos. Hilarious! He was as giddy as a schoolgirl about those Combos:

Pretzel on the outside. Cheese on the inside. It's a snack to be consumed with childish delight.

3) Bringing a cold, Rocky Mountain suitcase into Thai Palace and leaving with it mostly empty.

4) Slideshow making. It brings me great joy.

5) Playing guitar in the middle of the night in my tshirt and undies. Also brings me great joy.

6) Alex the iBanker's blog post (as well as postings by other members of the Asian Blog Mafia). Yes, Alex. I AM a self-professed Twinkie.

The Weekend Itinerary

FRIDAY
Take-out Chinese / Consumption of wine(s)
Catch up on music
Work on slideshow
Go to bed early

SATURDAY
Drive to the H-wood
Bargain shopping with Mamma Su
Courier Pappa Su's order of 2 dozen oatmeal cookies from pseudo-Amish country
3- possibly 4-chord jam session with Mike
Drive home
Evening shenanigans

SUNDAY
Clean clean clean
Music music music
Project project project
Other goings ons TBD

corndog, anyone?

National Corn Dog Day is March 22.

Any day that celebrates hot dogs covered in cornbread batter and deep fried to perfection is bound to be a brilliant one.

Let's recap: Deliciousness coated in deliciousness, and then deep fried to deliciousness.

I can't wait....

I'm being serious.

homeward bound

I'm feeling an increasing desire to go home -- home to people who see me for all my annoying imperfections but love me in spite of it, home to a delicious meal, and home to a pot of green tea.

This week has been taxing. The ability to see duality in things can be an asset, and I have a strong propensity towards it. But it can also lead to a hearty helping of confusion and having to sort through the slop is draining.

As I walk away from a good many things I care so much about, I know that sometimes the best place to walk towards...is...home.

a sieve, a steal trap, and keller williams

Keller Williams played a show at the Whitaker Center in H-burg tonight, and I thought I might write about all the things that happened. If there's one thing I know about myself, it's that my brain funnels through a good number of important things like a sieve, and works like a steal trap on things I should probably forget.

Here are some observations and questions pertaining to the show:

1) Why are bass players so awkward? Unless you're playing the upright and wearing suspenders, you're probably looking very awkward.

2) Replace the s-t-e-r in hipster with p-i-e (mmmm...pie), and that was a good majority of the audience. It was the type of show where there are half-hour jam sessions and very few lyrics.

So, room full of hemp + live music. Why was I surprised to hear the fire alarm during the fourth song?

I don't know.

3) I had no expectations for this show. Only to have a good time with Brett, and I can honestly say that I undeniably did. So while the fire department was doing a quick check of the venue, we thought it would be an opportune time to grab some a few tall ones at the G-man down the street. Excellent idea. Good conversation = a good time to be had.

4) I can appreciate a jam band, but I can't say it's my music of choice. It takes musicianship; I'll give you that. And if I can relate it to anything, it's like playing with a bunch of amazing athletes on the ultimate field. Everyone has a set of skills they're really good at. Put them on a field, tell them to make something good happen -- and it happens, and it's spectacular to someone who knows and enjoys the game. But to other onlooking spectators, they might still be wondering when the dogs and doobie were going to show.

I was that unknowing spectator. But the pot I spotted in puffs of smoke wafting from the 4th row, Mezzanine section. At times I wanted and expected to hear a face-melting guitar solo, but I was mostly disappointed to hear two of them concurrently, in a big ol' jumble of notes my mind had no idea how to process.

5) I enjoyed watching Keller play in his bare feet. Some days I wake up in the early morning, and then there are nights I have trouble sustaining a full REM cycle. On occasion, during these few minutes or hours of slumbering ineptitude, I'll grab my guitar and play in my sleep attire, ie t-shirt and underwear. I'm not sure what it is about playing in the semi-nude, but it makes me happy. And the few chords and strum patterns I know end up sounding a little sweeter.

I guess what I really want to say is, there was connectivity in the look of complete joy on his face -- Keller Williams, baring his shoeless soul, having fun, and singing so carefree. It was refreshing and something I needed to see.

6) There were periods of nice, solid, rocking out and hints of good ol' Southern blues. The rendition of 'Girl From Ipanema' was also very enjoyable. And people were up and dancing like it was 1999. Keller even broke out an impromptu 'Burning Down The House' riff, during the period of fire alarm.

Overall, pretty entertaining.

But I know, now more than ever, I enjoy music that is fairly minimalistic and mostly structured. If there's anything that I've started to really appreciate, it's lyrics -- the things a person has to say about how life is great, or how much it sucks, or how it can be completely Fergalicious....

And while I enjoyed the experience and the people, you will not hear any of the previously mentioned, lyrical topics (not in any truly, cohesive sense), at a Keller Williams concert.

desert island discs (i feel it all series)

Glass half empty.
Glass half full.

Sometimes the glass just has water in it. And you feel everything.

ALBUM / ARTIST
*Notable Tracks

Boxer / The National
*Topping many a Best Albums of '07 List, you'll want to check out these tracks: Brainy and Slow Show standout with self-deprecating lyrics and the baritone crooning of lead singer Matt Berninger.

Pinkerton / Weezer
*El Scorcho, you had me at 'Goddamn'...! Quite possibly one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world, depending on the time of day, barometric pressure, and angle of elevation of the sun.
*Good Life, Rivers Cuomo (cutie pie and smarty pants, extraordinaire) demands: 'I want sugar in my tea!' Me too, Rivers, me too.

The Reminder / Feist
*I Feel It All = The Wimpy Truth. The remix by Britt Daniel is also excellent (Thanks Virb!); it reminds me of the minimalist Xmas jingles on SNL, where Horatio Sanz and Jimmy Fallon were always fighting to keep a straight face. There's nothing quite so entertaining as watching two grown men trying to fight off a case of the giggles.
*Brandy Alexander, always getting into trouble (sounds vaguely familiar).
*1-2-3-4, made popular by an iSomething commercial, is the catchiest of tunes -- a pre-requisite, it seems, for Mac advertising.

Sunshyness / Orba Squara
*Mitch Davis embraces all things acoustic, and so do I. You might recognize Perfect Timing (This Morning) from an iPhone commercial, but you'll also want to check out these feel-good numbers: My Favorite Song, All Around The World, and Sunshine.

Close To Paradise / Patrick Watson
*Patrick Watson = blues-infused, Jeff Buckley/John Lennon re-incarnate? Give Drifters, The Storm, and The Great Escape (Sorry, there's no stadium seating or popcorn for this song) a listen.

and that's the way the cookie crumbles

I understand the meaning. Shit happens, and sometimes there's just nothing you can do about it. So there's no use getting your panties in a bunch.

Perhaps, it's my love of all things food -- particularly of the baked goods genre -- but I would get pretty upset if my cookie crumbled, in both the literal and figurative sense. In terms of the former, it simply seems like a waste of good baking materials. Chewy and gooey and raisin-less cookies are the best anyway, so if your cookie crumbles, try a different recipe.

Now to the latter. Shit happens, I get it. But I don't like the idea that there's nothing you can do about. True, you can give something everything you've got and still all you have left is a failed attempt at basket weaving, or trigonometry, or any of the things and/or people that you think are important to making you happy. But you gave it a shot -- you took the bull by the horns and said 'Hello, bull. I'm not going to let you crumble my cookie.' And in the Book of Shelley's Stuff and Things, that ain't nothing. That's SOMETHING.

tencent mix #3: the melody of pseudoscience

Understand nature. Understand yourself. It's feng shui (literally wind-water) in a very small nutshell. Sound hokey? As a kid, I always brushed aside the idea as one of those age-old Chinese superstitions (Why can't the mirror go there?), but the concept is pretty straight-forward: Surround yourself in a healthy environment and good things will happen. Let's hope this is The Truth.

The mix is self-explanatory. I'll point out some notable tracks:

Wasp Nest / The National
It's Hipster, with a cap H! and some of the best lyrics around. As an aside, the lead singer is very fashionable and dreamy to the nth degree. Their most recent album, Boxer, is arguably one of the best of 2007. Slow Show gets me every time.

Rolling Down The Hill / Glass Candy
Toe-tap-tastic! Your feet will move like Baby Velma. If you haven't seen an episode of Scooby-Doo where the cast members are all smaller versions of their future selves, then you've missed out on some glorious childhood entertainment. Baby Velma's feet moved like lightning!

Maybe the fast feet were to make up for the adult-size head on the child-like body. If I remember correctly, however, ALL the characters were that way. It was part of their charm. But no one moved like Baby Velma! No one.

Carrying A Stone / Loney, Dear
Starts off as a soft whisper and crescendos into fantastical goodness. Those Swedes know how to make some delicious music. Mostly I'm partial to 'Ahhhh Ahhhh Ahhh's' and sweet, sweet orchestral work. Did I just use sweet and orchestral in the same sentence? I most certainly DID.

Shake Our Tree / The Rosebuds
Hailing from the indie rock scene of Raleigh, NC (Home of the Wolf Pack!), here's a song from The Rosebuds' 2005 record, Birds Make Good Neighbors. The call and choir response format undoubtedly MAKES the song a keeper in the playlists.

I'll keep the current one up until the next mix post. If you'd like a copy of any mix in a more tangible technological format, ie cd or mix tape, email me with an address, and I'll make it happen.

Happy listening! Can I get a disco ball back here?....

tencent mix #2: a salute to my hot pink, NKOTB fanny pack

I'm certain that I get more hipster cred than I know what to do with. In watching Harold & Kumar for the ump-teenth time and having discovered Owen Pallett's rendition of Mariah Carey's 'Fantasy' (Thanks, Alex!), I start to wonder where it all comes from. Maybe it's the beat-up Keds. Perhaps it's the graphic t's and excessive (to offensive) amount of java-drinking. More often than not, I'm sure it's having bands like Okervil River, Arcade Fire, Sunset Rubdown, and Beirut on my playlist.

Let's revisit Harold & Kumar for just one moment.

Can you remember when Harold steals the 'extreme' Jeep from those jerks at the Quick-E Mart? Remember what song they sing? That's right -- Wilson Phillips. Hold On.

Sooooooo not hipster.

But I know all the words. And I LIKE that Wilson, and that Phillips. I unabashedly admit to it. So I'm making a mix in honor of a few of the pop gems I discovered in my formative -- Casey Kasem listening, when-MTV-played-videos -- grade school years.

Here's a salute to my hot pink NKOTB fanny pack, and a head nod to the dichotomy that is me.

oh, the people we meet

The past few weeks and weekends have been pret-ty darn craaaaazy. And I've met quite the array of interesting people:

1) Miss Rhoda (Trip to Midtown Tavern, not to be confused with the Cinema): You don't have to be Encyclopedia Brown in the schoolyard, or Detective Poirot on the Orient Express, to figure out that a pint-size glass of Alabama Slamma looks nothing like a pint-size glass of White Russian. And so, we find Miss Rhoda, on a snowy weeknight, having one too many. On most occasions, even while inebriated, I'd hope that I could tell the difference between the likes of Koolade and a tall glass of cream. But, alas, this distinction was not in Miss Rhoda's situational skill set.

(Pay attention now!)
A chance encounter with Miss Rhoda.
OMGY? Or OMGN? Jury's still out.

2) The J-man (From Colorado with love, via the United States Postal Service): My one and only Valentine's Day card this year said something like this -- 'Jesus loves you. Jesus loves us all.' Thanks for relaying the message, Val and Crider.

3) Lady at Walgreens (Trip to my birthplace, Morgantown, WV): Every once in a while, if you have one dimple and a stellar personality, people will tell you all about their near-life altering or ending experience at the Mon General Hospital across the street -- without you even asking. And this could all happen whilst eating Circus Peanuts (still grrrrooooosssss!, btw).

4) Mr. Circus Peanut, revisited (Trip to Walgreens): If I wanted to eat pure sugar and have it be a pleasing experience, I simply would eat Sugar In The Raw. If I wanted to eat pure sugar and have it be an unpleasant experience, it would be orange, and peanut shaped. I'll always remember, Mr. Circus Peanut -- how I gave you a chance, and all you gave me in return was the taste of rotten banana.

5) Mr. Feta Turkey Burger from Wegmans (Trip to Market St): Circus peanuts, turkey burgers. Not people, I know, but you react to them like you react to people. Like it / don't like it. Etc, etc.

So recently, my taste buds gave turkey burgers a try. Let me just say, there's nothing quite like the marriage of meats and cheeses on a George Foreman grill. And meeting this couple for the very 1st time? Mmm-licious! Nom nom nom...

What was it that I placed on top of my turkey burger? Why, more cheese of course! Two thumbs up for grilled cheesy-laden turkey patties, topped with cheesiness, in a garlic-butter toasted bun.

tencent mix #1: greyskyblue

This is an exercise in nostalgia and self-reflection.

Just the other day, I was at your regular bookstore, wearing my mom's homemade scarf, sippin' Seattle's Best coffee, and playing the role of bookstore browser. I was drawn to a graphically-pleasing book, covered mostly in mono-spaced, typewriter font, entitled 'Four Letter Word: Invented Correspondence from the Edge of Modern Romance.' As I was flipping through each new page (I love the feeling of new pages between the fingers), I was reminded of a handful of letters I'd written and an excellent cyber-conversation I had with Alex the iBanker on the topic of nostalgia -- where I espoused, like the cheesiest of cheeseballs, the following:

I think the thing about [it] is that feeling of closure -- or I guess, the feeling of something old ending and something new beginning -- but really, or at least it seems to me -- that there's no real beginning and no real end to anything. There's just stuff. We always end up digging things up from our past and wishing the good times could have been an everyday occurrence for the future. Anyway, that's my spiel on nostalgia.
[END QUOTE]

Memories throw off our tendencies to think linearly. It's not regret, per se, but an illustration that life , or our way of thinking of it, can sometimes be circuitous. But it's healthy to think of the past in order to appreciate the things you have in the present. This is a mix that sums up a group of letters I wrote about a short time in my life I value. In many ways, the exercise was cathartic. Yes, catharsis -- only without the Oedipal complex and gouging of the eyes. I happen to like my eyesight, despite my myopia -- it allows me to make analogies about a bunny and a carrot, joke about all of my keen senses, and wear cute glasses.

I apologize to the adoring fan(s). This is not a 12-song mix for The People, but there will be more of those to come. Stay tuned. In the meantime, I hope that you can find something you like amongst the riffraff of tune-age.

in a nutty nutshell

I guess there are a few things you should know about me. I'm forgoing the classical paragraph writing for list form. The reason is very simple. I *heart* list-making. So hold on to your hats....

THINGS I LIKE

1) Music: In the words of a cheesy, Depeche Mode song, I just can't get enough. And here's the reasoning behind it: There's a song for every occasion. Love found. Love lost. Love found, then lost, then found again. Rollin' with your homies. Drinking gin and juice. Rehab. Learn how to spell G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S. Shake it like a polaroid picture. Make milkshakes that bring all the boys to the yard....

You can find it all in a song. As unique as a song is to the person that's singing it or writing it, it's unique to you for all the reasons you identify with it. And there's just something about that fact I truly enjoy.

2) Growlers: Microbrews in a me-size container. True ingenuity and freshness in a bottle, at a tasty and affordable cost. Quite honestly, there's only so much Apricot Wheat a person can drink anyway, and growlers just might be the perfect Baby Bear size for sampling all of life's fermented flavors.

3) Deee-licious foods and food-making: It wasn't until recently that I decided that I enjoyed cooking. Most of it stems from being spoiled by a doting and amazing mother who loved to cook good, homestyle, authentic foods, Asian and otherwise -- and you can't get goodness like that (not where I live, at least) unless you make it yourself.

4) Letter-writing, slideshows and mix cds: Some might find it adorable. Others might find me a bumbling sap. Bottom line is I only know how be me, and I look forward to occasions where I can sit down and write a nice letter and/or make a toe-tapping mix or even a slideshow for someone; I like the sincerity of these activities.

5) Friends and travel: Friends and travel seem to go hand-in-hand, particularly when you're an active member of the fun-centric ultimate community. They end up finding each other like Britney Spears to the cuckoo's nest, and while I can't say that I'm so happy for Britney (or Kfed and the kids), I'm happy for my friends and the opportunities that arise to travel and hang LOOSE with them. At the end of March, I'll be traveling to Joshua Tree National Park with some of my best buds from the ol' alma mater, Penn State. All I can say is OMGY!!! I have no doubt that it'll rival the RV roadtrip of 2003, and there's little doubt that you'll be hearing about all the hijinks and mountain pies as well.

6) Other things I *heart*, needing no further explanation: Scratch-off lottery tix, cuddling, cheese (the edible and figurative sort), coffee, 80s movies starring John Cusack, graphic t's, Megatouch, and fried chicken....

More recently: Winning free breakfasts by spectating Mario Kart races (a sport of the 32-bit SNES variety), Guitar Hero, Vonnegut and Marquez, 3-chord guitar songs, singing in the shower, and dinner club.

There are very few things I don't like. Though, two things that continually top the list are presumption and pretension. They're like stink on shit -- and I don't like 'em. Anyway, I try to stay clear of the stinky McStinkertons that pass through every once in while. It's much nicer to smell so fresh and so clean (even if it takes a whole bar of soap to get that way).

The only problem with list-making is that I have no conclusionary paragraph to offer. I've simply run out of introductory things to say. Sorry for the abrupt nature of this ending, but that's it for now.

Cheers.