Blogger Rule #1: Don't blog/whine (bline? whog?) about being sick Blogger Rule #2: Don't post about why you aren't posting more Blogger Rule #3: No one cares how crazy work is getting Blogger Rule #4: Umm... rules are for losers Blogger Rule #5: But graphs are pretty badass
And you'd think I'd have enough of playing with graphs at my day job. You gotta love the web 2.0 gradient sexiness I got going on there, though.
There will be more posting and less snot soon, I promise.
Bonus points if anyone can explain to me the purpose of that graph template, because whoa.
Guess who got her hands on a pdf copy of--If I Did It--OJ Simpson's "hypothetical" take on the Nicole Brown Simpson/ Ronald Goldman murders of which he was acquitted in 1995?
Who has two thumbs and writes this blog? That's right. This kid.
I'm already through Chapter 1 and trust me, this is going to be good. Expect a full book review in your near future.
In the past, Thursday night at Bonnaroo was packed full of relatively unknown, often wacky bands (see: Gabby La La). These bands were booked to entertain Bonnaroovians who opted to pitch tent early (gates open at 7 a.m. on Thursday) and were not featured on the announced Bonnaroo schedule.
But this year, Bonnaroo was seduced by the X is the new Y construction to announce what college students have known for years: Thursday is the new Friday.
Which may explain why last year it took us under an hour to get in and pitch camp and this year, arriving at nearly the same time, it took us over 4 hours just to get inside the gates.
Shows I thought I'd see: Ryan Shaw, Mute Math, The National Shows I saw: Mute Math, The National, Rodrigo y Gabriela
I was bummed to miss soul singer newbie Ryan Shaw since I greatly enjoy his debut album This Is Ryan Shaw--but I could hear him in the distance by the time as our car crawled around the campground looking for a spot to set up camp.
But I was lucky enough to catch the last 1/2 hour of Mute Math's set--the only band to be invited back to Bonnaroo this year (I missed them last year).
Though the band's name makes me think of the most boring high school study hall ever, they are way more entertaining that passing notes behind the teacher's back.
My instant fandom may have something to do with my utter, knee-melting weakness for the keytar, but no one can deny the badassness of lead singer Paul Meany doing handstands on his keyboards.
Even though my only other (markedly uncool) experience with Mute Math is watching American Idol-reject Chris Sligh cheese up their song "Typical", it hopefully won't be my last.
I added The National to my list of concerts I saw, though to be honest, after hearing two seconds of the lead singer's voice (if I can't dig the voice, I can't dig the band), my internal meh-o-meter went off and I opted to cool my heals by the naked dude and wait for the late-night set. Sadly, said naked dude was dragged off by security before the show began.
As pleasantly surprised I was by how hard Mute Math rocked, the most brain-bustingly good show of the night (and arguably the whole festival) came in the early hours of Friday morning when Mexican acoustic metal duo (yeah, you read that right: acoustic metal) Rodrigo y Gabriela took the stage.
Holy crap can Gabriela play that guitar! (And Rodrigo is pretty damn good himself!) I could gush, but why waste superlatives when I can just show you their video for their song "Diabolo Rojo":
Seriously. Holy crap. And we still have three more days of concerts to go!
Fear not, faithful DivMo-ers, I have not died. Despite the twice twisted ankle, multiple scrapes (all accrued before even entering the Bonnaroo gates), and a serious case of dirt-lung, I have emerged from Bonnaroo very much alive and psyched to share my adventures with you.
For our first installment of Bailey's adventures at Bonnaroo 2007, allow me to share with you some of my favorite photos taken over the past 4 days. To see all 60 photos I uploaded with full commentary, you can visit the handy link I've placed behind here.
Below is my last year's South Park depiction of me at Bonnaroo (that is Bonnaroo mud on my face! not poo!). Remember when you spent hours making South Park versions of all your friends? Or was that just me?
Well this year--you lucky dogs!--I am bringing my digital camera and will be able to reward you with real photos upon my return to the blogosphere on Monday.
Until then, I'll be running around cavorting with hippies, getting in trouble with my mom (she will be helping with the creation of trouble, not the punishment of it, since she's going to be my "sister" this time around), oh and seeing some awesome bands too--and probably getting totally burnt.
Just one more day of work and I'm off to the 'ROOOOOOO!
Here is my planned itinerary over those 4 glorious days. Shows I'm planning on attending are (very artistically) circled in red, though really I'm planning on going wherever the adventure takes me, so who knows. If you're a fan of a band I have neglected to circle, please educate me in the comments.
Thursday:
Friday: Saturday: The greatest tragedy of Saturday is that The Flaming Lips and Girl Talk are playing overlapping sets (!!!). The plan of the moment is to see the Lips open up, run over to Girl Talk and dance my face off, then run back for the last hour and a half of the Lips.
Sunday: (Can you tell that I'm more than a little excited to see The White Stripes?)
If you're interested in hearing Icky Thump before you can buy it (which you should be), head on over to MTV.com to check out their live streaming of the album. (Who knew MTV still had something to do with music?)
In other music "news": that heckler that got beat up at last night's Fall Out Boy show totally had it coming. Who's emo now, bitch?
For being totally terrified of the idea of a wedding (not getting married as much as the wedding itself--with all its expense and bridezilla-esq complications) I definitely talk/think about it a lot. I blame my apartment's addiction to TLC and HGTV. And the fact that people I know! are finally hitting the age where weddings don't come with shotguns and Romeo&Juliet-style angst. (<--You should really click on that link.)
While wading through my feed today, I found a post by the ladies at Jezebel for a website called Trash The Dress. I gotta say, I'm a sucker for badass photos and the ones on this site are pretty awesome. Though the Jezebel folks call out the "TTD" crew for the non-feminist slant in their manifesto:
In fact, the website's manifesto implies that TTD is less about iconoclasm and more about brides stroking the egos of their brand-new husbands!
You've made a commitment to your husband. He's your one and only true love, right? Then you'll never need the dress again. And no, your daughter won't wear it in 20-30 years. So you have two choices: 1) Suffocate it in plastic and throw it in a closet, 2) Show your husband how committed you are by trashing the dress, and get some great fun pictures while you do it!
Haha. They might have done better to say their pictures would really help emphasize the whole "Til Death Do Us Part" section of the vows. Some of these ladies look ready for the CSI team to pick them up:
I just watched an entire 70min movie on Youtube. I didn't even know it was possible to upload that long of a feature until today. The movie is called Four Eyed Monsters by Arin Crumley and Susan Bruice. (Title comes from Arin's great line on couples: "They have four eyes, two mouths, eight limbs that wrap around themselves in narcissistic self-adoration. It's disgusting. ...And I can't help but envy them.")
It's a really gorgeous movie about the processes of creating art and relationships. It has the charm of Amelie and a depth you don't usually find in movies about relationships. There is no montage where the relationship is built in snippets of cut-away shots while the music swells romantically. This is the glorious, messy, terrifying business of falling in love. Which looks a lot like the glorious, messy, and terrifying business of creating art. So it's the perfect fit that Arin and Susan turned the cameras on their own relationship as the inspiration for their creation. It's stirring and remarkably honest.
I think it's only up for a week on Youtube so be sure to check it out before it gets taken down.
Because they're young artists living in NYC, they've accrued a substantial amount of debt in the process of making the film. Spout.com, a social networking site for movie lovers, has offered to donate $1 (up to $100,000) to Arin and Susan for every person who signs up for a Spout account. (As of this post, they were up to $6,518).
And since I'm going for the world record for membership in social networking sites (joined 2 today alone!), I was very OK with turning over my email address to help Arin & Susan get $1 dollar closer to their debt-free dreams (at least until their next movie).
...And I'm in a good mood. Here is a video clip of my husband Jon Stewart interviewing my other husband Paul Rudd. Hearts, sighs, stars.
I saw a pre-screening of his latest movie Knocked Up a month or so ago, and unless some major reediting happened between when I saw it and when it was popularly released, I'm sorry to say, as much as I love Judd Apatow et al, it really wasn't all that funny. Much like the unrated extended version of the 40-Year-Old Virgin, it is clear that Apatow benefits from a good editor (which Knocked Up apparently lacked). Also made me terrified to have babies, which at 23 is probably for the best.
Though seeing Paul Rudd in a crown at a child's birthday party opened my tentative womb right back up. (Ew, I just grossed myself out again. No babies!)
Let's do a little math (since I was an English major, this will be a word problem)...
Say you're a radio station (FNX) and you decide you want to have a little music festival (Best Music Poll 2007). You're considerate enough to poll your listeners to find out what their favorite bands are (Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah; Block Party; Bang Camaro (melt your face awesome); The Bravery; Say Anything; Shiny Toy Guns, etc.) and book those bands for one big all-night concert.
You decide to hold your concert on a popular street (Lansdowne) in a big city (Boston). Your performance space consists of one small stage at the end of the street and 2 medium-sized nightclubs and one smaller club venue. Let's say the maximum capacity for said nightclubs is 2,000, 700, and 250 people respectively.
The street itself could probably hold about 3,500 people, but you decide begin the concert with 3 performances on the main stage on the street and then direct people to the nightclubs for the remaining concerts.
So the question of the night: How many tickets do you sell?
If you're FNX, you sell all 3,500 of the tickets and say sucks to be you to the 550 or so people who either come late enough to miss the first on-the-street acts or decide to try to switch nightclubs between shows to see a different band (I wanted to see Say Anything, so sue me).
Though I didn't get to see Say Anything, I did get to bond with the other people who were capacitied out of the club. A little round of belting Bohemian Rhapsody and a communal passing of a giant jar of pretzels stolen from a food tent, and life didn't seem quite so bleak. Though I knew it was time to pack it in when the club owner came out and begged us to go to his club across the street that was playing "the same rock music type thing...oh, not a band, it's CDs, but it's the same type of rock music stuff."
At least the bus was waiting for me when I finally gave up the ghost of actually getting back into the concert I paid over $40 for.
Thankfully, there's nothing in life that can't be fixed with a six-pack of good beer, a meatball sub, and a marathon of "softsational" soft-rock songs on VH1 (except, of course, alcoholism, obesity, and a bad taste in music... but those are problems for another night.)
Being a Florida refugee, I never really thought I'd be posting something positive about my home state, let alone something relating to the theme park industry, but I gotta say Universal's plan to create a Harry Potter-based theme park called "The Wizarding World of Harry Potter" sounds pretty damn cool.
Perhaps it's because the news brings me one of the dirtiest headlines that I've read in quite awhile (that I didn't write): Universal Grasps Potter's 'Magic' (Thanks Florida Today!)
Or perhaps it's because this news affords me the chance to somewhat-gratuitously post a half-naked picture of Daniel Radcliffe in Equus (mmm... Universal might need two hands to grasp all that (NSFW) magic
But the biggest reason I'm pumped for the theme park's 2009 opening is for the rides. Just think about it: the same fictional wizard who inspired the Nimbus 2000 toy--a broomstick that vibrated when you put it between your legs to stimulate orgasm simulate flight (and a product recall)--will be making full-fledged rides!! Just look at this little boy's smile! How can you argue with the face of pure, perverse joy?
Speaking of all that is pleasurable and unholy, what will the Christians think of Universal's firm "grasp" on Potter's broomstick? (And all my dirty dirty punning?)
According to the first Christian website I found in my Google travels, Surf in the Spirit dot com, Harry Potter is a knight in Satan's service:
Many children all over the world consider Harry Potter a hero, but in God's eyes his works are abominations (literally wickedness). God is not Potter's deliverer when he gets into tight situations. How could he be, when Potter only uses Satan's devices? The works of darkness is behind both the bad and good guys in this story, and since both use forbidden practices, according to God's word, there is no difference between them. Since Harry practices what God has forbidden (see Deuteronomy 18:9-12), then he is also Satan's servant no matter what he appears to do.
Mayhaps it's true, but if Satan can hook me up with a 20-minute vibrating ride on Harry's broom, all is forgiven in my book.
So I had this brilliant idea tonight for this super cute lower back tattoo inspired by R. Kelly's "Sex Planet"
What do you guys think? Super cute right?!! Here's the close up of the design:
And then I put it on a model so you can get an idea of what it would look like on my lower back:
What do you guys think? Should I add a little arrow to the crack? I wasn't sure if the message was clear enough. But super cute, right? Oh, and for the record, that's exactly what my butt looks like. Pooping is like way overrated.
The following songs, when played at a club while I'm out for a night dancing, make me more than a little suicidal:
1. Girls Just Want To Have Fun -- Cyndi Lauper (Omg! I'm like a girl! And I'm out dancing! With other girls! This song is so like totally perfect! <--Die.) 2. Uptown Girl -- Billy Joel (You have to be kidding me, right? Billy Joel? Seriously?) 3. Save A Horse Ride A Cowboy -- Big & Rich (Ick ick... why not bust out the Electric Slide while we're at it?) 4. Man, I Feel Like A Woman -- Shania Twain (What is this the 90s?) 5. It's My Life -- Bon Jovi (My favorite!) 6. Crazy Bitch -- Buckcherry (I'd never heard it before tonight, but with a chorus of "Hey, you're a crazy bitch but you fuck so good I'm on top of it" how could you not instantly love despise it?) 7. Living On A Prayer -- Bon Jovi (It wouldn't be a night out in Boston without Bon Jovi's ubiquitous prayers.) 8. Pour Some Sugar On Me -- Def Leppard (Death by overplay)
Also in the running for death by overplay, though I will fight to keep on loving it anyway:
9. Don't Stop Believing -- Journey (Please please don't make me hate this one)
You know you've got a bad DJ on your hands when you hear that new Fergie "flossy flossy" song and think "now this is more like it!"
Then again, what should I expect from a club called Tequila Rain that promises to "bring you Spring Break 52 days weeks out of the year." [Ed: but only 52 of those days will be fun]
To make up for the horrific examples of YouTubeocity I posted last night, I now give you one of the most beautiful and interesting clips I've seen on YouTube in a long long time. Titled "Women in Art" director eggman913 morphs 500 years of women's portraits in art.
Art history geeks, prepare to *squee* with joy.
Curtsy to the ladies over at Jezebel for bringing this video to my attention. If you're into a modern feminist take on the fashion magazine industry and the celebritard juggernaut, you should go check them out.
Now I'm off to figure out how to turn this video into a screen saver. If I can figure it out, I'll let you know. And if you beat me to it, let us know in the comments.
In honor of the completely awesome Fall Out Boy concert I attended tonight at the fantastic quazi-outdoor Tweeter Center, I have dredged up some of the shittiest FOB tribute videos on the internets. I couldn't decide which one was worse so I figured I'd post them both, with a little "friendly" commentary:
I'm loving the out of focus pictures. It looks like they were ripped out of a magazine, put at the bottom of a fish tank and shot with the word's shittiest camera phone through the glass, before throwing the whole thing in MS Paint and stretching it to twice its actual size. You'd think if you went to all the trouble of making a tribute video, you'd at least try to find one or two pictures that aren't completely pixelated.
Also amazing, the INSANELY random other clips. Einstein? Twice? A cow jumping out of the ocean next to a dolphin? (Seriously.) The cat in the hat? Oh, and some more shitty FOB pics for good measure.
The commentary alone is what makes this second video for me. Also the impressively ubiquitous use of both the heart: <3 and the (gasp!) broken heart: < /3
It's like her brain is one of those Play Doh machines where you stuff all the emopoppunk music in one ear and then press down and out of her mouth shoots strings of: *squee!* ***hearts!!!!!!*** YAYAYYYY!!!!! <3,#<<<#<#<###!@@<,,,,3333333333333
Which is exactly how my brain works too. No judgment here.
Bailey Triggs is the premiere Awfsome-ologist of her generation. She spends her free time culling the internets for the most frightening, discomforting, and hilarious things she can find. Her (unhealthy) obsessions include fanfiction, emo kids, and reality tv dating shows.
DivMo: Bloggy style since 2007.
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Meet Prince Sparkly FishHorse:
Hi, my name is FiHo! I'm so happy DivMo adopted me and rescued me from that Angelfire site! I love to blink and wiggle my tail! And watch trashy reality TV!
I love comments, fan mail, and handmade declarations of undying devotion to diverted motion. (Also enjoy rhyming and horrific puns. You have been forewarned.)
