cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

if i weren’t shy

The only thing I don’t like about They Might Be Giants is that they neglect to use the subjunctive properly in their songs.

I realize this makes me a huge freak. A huge, grammar-obsessed, TMBG-lovin’ freak. And happy to be one, thankyouverymuch.

The showing of “Gigantic” last night was So Much Fun! I drove around for 20 minutes, looking for parking in the Castro – everyone, laugh at me now – but I eventually found a spot ON Castro itself. loud gasp I know! When I arrived, David, anna, Wendy and Ergazork were already there. Rock! The Castro Theatre had no Junior Mints, much to my chagrin, but I graciously accepted Raisinets instead.

I absolutely love the fact that there is an actual organist playing actual organ music on an actual organ before the movie starts, and the best part of that was the organ descending INTO THE FLOOR as the organist is finishing his medley with a flourish. If Linnell had been playing the organ, I might have passed out.

I’d already seen the movie a few months earlier, but I was just as excited and bouncy to see it this time around. My very favorite part is when Michael McKean does a dramatic reading of the lyrics of “The End of the Tour”. I’m a Michael McKean fan already, and he does a fantastic job with such a delicate, painful song. I also like the parts when Sarah Vowell talks. Anything at all, that woman can say, and I’ll be laughing.

After the movie, we went to a pizza place across the street and had mad fun with the camera in my Palm Zire 71. It’s mad wrong, this mad fun.

anna, Ergazork and Halsted

I don’t understand why I am using “mad” this way. Please send help.

My peeps are so great. David read us an excerpt from You Shall Know Our Velocity! about taping envelopes of money to donkeys in Senegal. One envelope read: HERE I AM ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE. I know my peeps are great because we all laughed so hard at that. I mean, the Scorpions, man. And aren’t they German? I said this last night and everyone was like, whatever, ‘sted, you’re crazy. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. (Yes, I am.) I’m so not. (Yes, yes.) No, seriously.

I’m jumping on the crazy, and I do mean CRAZY, meme bandwagon and inviting you to ask me any damned thing you please, and I will answer. Considering how very private I am, this is an offer too good to pass up. But you can pass it up and all. I mean, if you want. (please pass this up, I’m secretly chickenshit)

Time for me to go spend not one, not two, but three blessed hours interviewing librarian candidates. My life rules. Or it drools. Either is acceptable. Drool is wet, though.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.