Even though I haven’t been a student for a long time (the anniversary of graduation is looming) I am still learning new things. But these are the sorts of things that no one taught us before. There is no curriculum to figuring out the nooks and crannies of everyday, you just have to be there and see how it works for yourself. These ‘b-side’ of life rules come at you every day. You grow to learn that being hungover at work ISN’T fun and that maybe inside voices exist for a reason. And that carpal tunnel IS a real thing. Like my wise (crazy) aunt says, and this is a good phrase I forget too often – people will do what they want to do.

While all of this is OK and very normal, there is another side. The b-side. In a nut, I have learned how to be wrong. While I do what I want to do, so does everyone around me. Being honest about something big and small can open up new doors. And admitting to people that you are wrong and flawed not only brings trust but strength within yourself. I have been wrong before and unable to say it, or maybe it’s that I have never noticed it before? Being vocal about this has become very powerful. I’ve recently found that when I openly admit to being wrong about something, people are surprised and recognize that I am being as honest as possible. Maybe (I secretly hope) they will see it as OK to do themselves. Now that it is a frequent occurrence people seem more willing to tell me anything. Knowing when you are wrong about something is just as important as finding the right answer.

As you may or may not know, for months I have disregarded Arcade Fire’s album The Suburbs. After listening to it over and over again, I never saw their popularity and understood why they were blooming. Grammy and all, I still kept listening and couldn’t figure it out for myself. After having been vocal about my distaste for them for too long I had one of those moments when you realize why something is there. All of a sudden it just makes sense, takes on a new form and shows you. Now that I see the value of this record, I can’t stop listening to it. It is epic, 16 tracks long and full of emotion. With great lines of kids’ longing in suburbia driving around, standing with their arms folded tight and wishing to be free – it is a soundtrack (hence the film?) with re-occurring lines, musical themes and two part songs.

So lately I’ve been telling people that I’ve been wrong about it. “You know, I’ve been listening to The Suburbs more and more, and I can’t get enough of it. I was wrong all along.” My favorite part has been the feedback, positive and welcoming. As I let my guard down so do they. People seem happy to hear I’ve finally found what they’ve been listening to. And they are excited to share it with me. It’s not that I let myself experience this. It just happened. And I couldn’t be happier about the whole thing. “…music being the only art without physical form, and therefore the most powerful.”

It’s weird that tomorrow is March. So much time has gone by, people move further, grow up so far from what we once knew, and college seems further away daily. Even if some of us still want it back. (For the record, I don’t.)

Since living here I’ve been to nyc to visit twice, and both times I like DC more. I’ve worked it out and it seems as though DC is grown up. Not to say New York City isn’t. It is a great, world city. A hub and full of everything you could ever want. New York City is beautiful and there is something great about each part of it. But when I come home to DC I feel the differences. The district feels polite where a ruckus on the Metro is frowned upon. And in New York it’s a characteristic. The thing about our Metro is that it’s more of a commuter rail. Looking at the way it was designed with seats abreast instead of lining the side of the car (like New York and Boston) it was made for a long term ride. More expensive depending on the time of day you travel and where you’re going, it always seems to be broken or being ‘fixed’. When you see loud kids traveling in packs and tourists they treat it just like other subways, which it is not. And has taken a long time for me to come to terms with that.

DC is a city like Los Angeles where not everyone who lives here is from here. People move here for a reason in their career like government, politics, law or higher education. Other famous platforms of the city do exist, like punk rock, but people rarely know it. It’s not even technically a city, hence ‘district’. Taxation without representation is alive and well. The people here are all dressed up, because their jobs call for it. Uptight in the nicest of senses, people take things very seriously. It’s hard to come by hippies, beards and open toed shoes (even in 100+ heat.) The differences between DC and other cities I’ve been to and spent a lot of time in are astounding.

The neighborhoods are aplenty and knowing them can help keep you out of trouble and in a place where you belong. High class and murder are only a few blocks apart. Full of color, life and history, the District is it’s own bubble. Since living here Angeline made the discovery that every few weeks the city is empty because people leave. Cabin fever is very catchy. You need to get out (hence my trips to NY.)

Today it started raining and the wind is supposed to get nasty. The weather here is funky. We’re on a swamp, below the Mason Dixon line, and peoples’ moods change with the forecast. The Metro will be crowded and damp after work. I can just feel it. The same way I can feel the rain coming even though I sit in a room with no windows all day. The office feels humid and no one really wants to be here. I know I don’t.

This wasn’t meant to be about New York and DC. Or the weather. And the train systems. I wanted to share that the previously mentioned chili was and still is amazing. Also, I caught a marathon of Portlandia on IFC yesterday afternoon. An entire episode revolves around Aimee Mann being their cleaning lady. How can you not fall in love with this show? Also, it’s easily the funniest show I’ve seen in a long time. I feel like I’ve had a version of this conversation many times. Also, this is fun. Even though I’m not feelin’ the art, I like reading the titles she sings in the shower.

I wish ya’ll could hear the show I run every day. Bill Mack is a trip. Playin’ the best country music there ever was: Mel Tillis, Willie Nelson, Bob Wills, Ray Price, Merle Haggard, Ernest Tubb (the list goes on…) He’s a  man with a thick southern drawl. When I was watchng Gwyneth Paltrow performing the Country Strong song during the Oscars last night I found myself commenting on it’s poor writing and crappy ”country” sound. Forgive me father for I have sinned, I know my country music and have become a country music snob.

And with that, it’s lunch time. Stay tuned for results of homemade whoopie pies. Happy Birthday Pat.

Since we last ‘spoke’ there has been a new Radiohead record. Which can be seen as a disappointment. Expecting their game changing lifestyle, they give us another version of In Rainbows (which IS great.) At least it has me listening to/accepting/loving Kid A.

I’ve been to Brooklyn and fallen in love with the city, it’s sandwiches, windy streets and the plethora of bearded cyclists. I thought I saw Reece everywhere. Finished Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections, which won the National Book Award. I’ve never read and loved books as much as I’ve loved The Corrections and Freedom. You will fly through them. Franzen remains a douche, but his fiction writing is unreal.

Then there’s this. Which just reminds me of this.

Have I mentioned that The White Stripes officially ‘broke up’? We have solo work to look forward to, which I think is really going to be a good career. Many solo careers stemmed from past band leaders and geniuses. Jack White is our genius.

Sometimes I think if I go on longer no one will read it all. At least no one I talk to regularly. Since last, I’ve also gotten rid of my hole-y pants and bought a cast iron skillet for proper cooking. This weekend sweet potato vegetarian chili and homemade corn bread. And homemade whoopie pies for Pat’s birthday. Jealous? I think so-

Currents: whiskey, The Black Keys. Also, it’s been a Green Day.

Since things, I’ve surprised myself in falling in love with Jonathan Franzen‘s writing. After plowing through FREEDOM I bought THE CORRECTIONS (along side William S. Burroughs’ JUNKY- great) out of boredom and now I can’t put it down. I mean, I can put it down, only because the sentences are longer than the page long paragraphs and his character webs make me use phrases like character webs.
Joined a gym. Tonight was week two, time two, of spin class. I’m convinced I’ll need knee replacements by the time I’m 35. Also I had a daymare yesterday that I lost the use of my legs.
My roommate got a real job. And is (always has been) obsessed with the Strokes. Please release your album sooner so we can hear more than just the single in this house.
My job couldn’t be better. I am happy. And now sing along to country music, which clearly I am not ashamed of.
I am borderline getting twitter. Only because I want to stalk my future husband, Aziz Ansari. We are perfect for each other in every way shape and form. Also, that man is damn hilarious.
Met new friends. Found new bands: Woozy Viper (two, maybe three minute, surf rock, makes you wanna start a band- which I do. Any takers?) And some bands that are new to me and I can’t believe I haven’t been listening to all along: Iron & Wine, PJ Harvey, Bright Eyes (duh, Sarah.)
My roommate and I binged entirely on It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia Seasons 1-3 (plus the newest that was just on). When did I put Green Man on?
I’ve become a Pitchfork junkie, after losing all interest in political affairs. Reading the news has become a last minute boredom fix/homework assignment again.
Mike Sokol is alive. If you’re in the area of Western Mass next month, his band is having a show. It’s also quite a show staying at the Sokol residence. I recommend it to any living human being.
Saw Yo La Tengo. Enough Said.
My genius brother-in-law got a full ride to GW for his MBA and this summer my sis and him are moving here. (!!!)
I’ve started writing poetry. (And reading fiction…who am I?)
Seen almost all the Oscars movies. The King’s Speech ISN’T boring. It’s actually very funny and wonderful.
I’ve been inventing new meals, contemplating graduate school for nutrition and creating a CA fund for when Morgan and I move there.
Also, I might splurge and go to the Sasquatch Festival in Seattle. Also, SO MANY tours this spring! Tame Impala!!

Clearly, I’ve always fancied lists. Not sure why I feel the need to update our few readers on my life. Slacking isn’t usually my cup of tea, but lately it’s been working for me. Also I’ve been reading a lot. Patti Smith’s JUST KIDS, National Book Award winner is SO good, it’s like candy. ANNNND who guessed it, but an aural history of The Velvet Underground, UP-TIGHT. Learning a band’s history is a fresh start for love. I’m a grown up now. I own rugs and everything on my walls is framed (well, except the Wayne’s World poster in the hallway.) And, while we all morn the loss of the White Stripes (thank god I got my ‘Three’s A Crowd’ picture book!!), we can only hope it means Jack White will be more accessible everywhere and he can finally come to his senses and fall in love with me.

Scatterbrained enough for you? I’m child living in an adult’s professional world where you tell dirty jokes, wear flannel and get to work on time at 10am. Mmmmm, I will always love radio folk.

I’m making it back up to NYC, specifically BROOKLYN, on Friday (that’s right, this Friday). So if you’re in the area, let’s jam.

I spend 80% of my day organizing music, labeling it. So people who pay their affordable price for a radio subscription know what’s playing. The other 20% of my day is spent organizing music. 100% staring into a computer screen. The other 100% percent is divided between 1950s country music, smooth jazz, hair metal and the rancid tongue that is Jim Norton. The last thing I want to do is look at a computer screen when I get home and deal with music files. What am I doing? Organizing, downloading, drop-boxing and listening to music. Recent enjoyment: Exile In Guyville. Also finally got around to Deerhunter’s Halcyon Digest. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.

Made a new friend. An old time friend from a best friend. New motivation and new conversations. Actually I’ve been catching up with friends from all over lately. But a new friend, specifically a new music friend, gets to hear the version of my musical personality I’ve never started off with before. We relate on levels I don’t even reach with people I’ve known for years. It is that level of individual care and understanding that I feel like I can explain certain records and events. And then everything is going to be OK. One day I’ll share the story with the world. Currently it’s a jumble and still being written.

Musically speaking, I’ve been stuck in the ’90s. Pavement, Liz Phair, watching Reality Bites on TV over and over, 90s chick flicks when you can’t sleep at night, revisiting the Fugees, live Sublime records, watching Fight Club into the night at work, early White Stripes and still racking my brain over Daydream Nation. I couldn’t be enjoying it more. With the weather allowing ear muffs to be substituted by ear phones, I’ve been devouring music. And having been in a book rut, all I manage is short essays, music writing and magazine profiles, music news and branching out to the d-side blogs. Since the election I can’t get further from my own city’s core. Finding somewhere to channel this becomes impossible at points. After getting used to 1950s country music, you don’t think it can get worse. Then Christmas music makes it’s appearance and we’ve stepped into something that’s hardly tolerable again, Country Christmas. Although I will say country music does one thing, it makes me crave the luscious Bob Dylan and Jeff Tweedy.

Pat and I had the pleasure of the fifth row at Jeff Tweedy solo acoustic. Sexiest man alive, he graced us with an encore (including Passenger Side as backed by the opening band who also joined him for California Stars.) It was the last song when he stepped the front of the stage leaving the PA behind. People inched up, wandered up the isles. A guitar larger than any he used all night looked awkward on him. Acuff Rose, an Uncle Tupelo favorite. The whole night he played songs and it sounded like I had never heard them before. With all his screw ups they seemed somehow perfect. Tweedy’s live guitar playing and ability to make the same songs seem fresh and distinguished let me see how much Nels Cline’s playing overshadows the band. A Ghost Is Born is remarkable and sometimes too wonderful for words. But seeing Jeff Tweedy up there, so close. Acknowledging his faults to the audience, cracking jokes, wiping the sweat from his brow. Rawness of his individuality while he remains the leader and mind of one of our generation’s greatest bands. It’s that individual. The same one that can stand out and be a memorable favorite while being able to lead, as clumsy as it can get.

People live for different reasons. And I’m not here to write that I live for music. But right now I’m thinking that music lives for me. In every environment I’ve been (thrown) into it has remained my constant. Countless people say this. You say it. I want to show it off more. What are you going to do with it?

Can someone please tell me when the hell scarves became a fashionable accessory?  I first started noticing this disturbing trend during the spring of my senior year in high school.  This one girl who I already did not like at all, started wearing scarves every single day, even though it was now spring and winter (when scarves are usually worn) had come and gone.  This girl however did not just wear any old scarf.  Instead, she chose to accessorize her outfit each day with a matching scarf.  I imagined her closet having an electronic tie rack only filled with obnoxious, multi-colored scarves.  Why would someone feel this would be a good fashion movement?  Yeah man, I wanna go drape cloth over my neck.  Why?  Oh cuz that will be cool, I can get some decent neck sweat going and show everyone how much of a giant tool I am that I actually spend time in the morning picking out a scarf, I’m wearing yellow today because there is yellow writing in my shirt, see it matches.  PUHHH-LEAZEEEE

If this girl and her constant shuffling of scarves (how annoying is this word to write) not enough, I then came to Ithaca.  There are about as many scarves here as liberals.  But why, oh why, do I have this hatred for scarves.  Do I associate them with the girl who I did not like and her scarf fetish?  That cannot be the reason, I would never let one person ruin an entire peace of clothing for me.  I think I don’t like that wearing and accessorizing scarves has turned into this fad that is now everywhere.  (We can have a fun time on this site counting down the 10 dumbest fads of the last decade.  Do you smell that?  I think it’s a future article)

Back to the point at hand though friends, and that is the wretched scarf.  I know that ladies think they are trendy and cool with their scarves, but I cannot disagree more.  You aren’t trendy or cool, you’re just following.  I allow scarf wearing when the weather calls for it (and hey, that’s a lot of the time in Ithaca, NY), but why do these girls keep their scarves on once inside the moderate temperatures of a building.  That is what I do not like.  Sure, wear a scarf when it’s cold out, hell wear two.  But when you are inside (or when it is the spring!) what’s with the scarves?  They aren’t performing their primary function, they are just there as window dressing.

No matter what though, I have accepted that this fad is not going away.  I am only one man and there is not much I can do to rebel against the army of scarves I pass every day.

All I can do is rant about it.  I guess that will have to do.  Enjoy your scarves oh trendy ones.

I arrived in the beautiful country of Canada on Friday and checked out the Olympic digs. Guess what, VANCOUVER IS NOT READY. Who is shocked? They’re currently trying to create more lanes on the ONLY ROAD from the city up to Whistler, where most of the mountain events will take place. The other mountain, Cypress, doesn’t have enough snow and thus more snow will be helicoptered in to allow for the Games to go off without a hitch. Except for all those millions and millions of dollars they’ll lose. A family member suggested they get some Haitian refugees to help shovel snow on the mountain. I’m not saying it’s a good idea, I’m just sayin’.

A certain peacocked network (on top of the already well-documented Conangate) is expecting to lose $200 million to air these Olympics, even with the free help I (and many, many other interns) am providing them. As Riley has mentioned and I have confirmed, these all just seem to be symptoms of a global apocalypse striking a couple years earlier than anyone reckoned – it’s 2010 folks. The skies are gloomy, the streets are rain-soaked, and there’s no snow for the Winter Olympics. Vancouver is going to be ravaged with tourists and will come out on the other side much worse off than they were before the Games, if history has taught us anything. Obviously it hasn’t.

Anyway, I might as well have my fun before we’re all washed away, so look for me and my fellow Ithaca interns (shout out to ICLA’s own Lizzy V and any other IC folks who might come across this blog – I’m in room 922, so come around for a chat and a smoke!) as we try our best to hop in front of the cameras and get our mugs on international TV. In the meantime I’ve got a sick Official Staff badge that I intend to flash anywhere it may allow me exclusive access to clubs, events and/or important-looking buildings I otherwise would have no business being around.

I’ll keep you updated on all the exciting Olympic goings-on in the month to come, broadcasting straight from the hotel room in downtown Vancouver that is to be my home. Go USA!

It begins with the fact, and a confession, of my past as a music lover. I used to be a close-minded classic rock fan who didn’t know better and never gave anything a chance. Right now, while stomaching the Breakfast with the Beatles show, I am on a personal quest to knock the Beatles off their pedestal in my life, and for those around me. I’m the ‘Beatles girl’ (as I’ve been told) and not until now has that bothered me. Recently I’ve been listening to what I used to consider modern music. Now it is just becoming common sense.

Here we have the Dirty Projectors.

Bitte-Orca

This band we play at the station. Although I did not start listening to them until my brother-in-law recommended them to me. My Christmas gift to him was a jump drive full of music that I acquired throughout the year. His personal quest is to find as much new music as possible. Through him and someone else close to me I have found something I never thought I would stumble upon, let alone go looking for. Its the idea that anything can be great. Just think, every band- and even more importantly- every song is someone’s favorite. So you can’t be too upset with something musically, because everything has a home.

This band, the Dirty Projectors have been putting out records since 2002- this record Bitte-Orca is remarkable. There is plenty going on there, bold and unusual unlike anything I’ve ever heard.I fall in love with it every time I hear them. Over the course of time I’ve never listened to anything as what I would consider as strange as this band. And I never thought I would genuinely love anything like this.

Almost even better is Yeasayer. This is a band that has one record from 2007 and their most recent, Odd Blood, is credited for coming out in 2010 (but I heard it all throughout the latter part of 2009.) The bravest band, maybe, that I’ve ever listened to. Odd Blood opens with a track that throws you off. Almost like you don’t expect what the hell the next thing will sound like. I was so familiar with just the one song the station plays and I had heard the full album two other times. It wasn’t until two days ago I got the full record and let it marinate that I realized that its better than crack. Each song as you listen to the full album impresses me and even though there is one in particular, all the songs are peculiar themselves. After enough time to digest you can see that it is technically a ‘concept’ album- but anything short of ordinary. Most people don’t even like it.

Odd Blood

Now right now there is something even more important to me. It is a revolution in my own life. A word that can never be used too lightly, its a revolution because I have these feelings about music as if I’m falling in love with it for the first time. As if I’ve never even heard it before. Something like this has never been this important to me. Bands that I’ve known of since high school and never gave a second chance, or second thought, are now some of the most important bands in my life.

I’ve been trying to love some in particular, like the Flaming Lips (coming to Cornell in April), since I was a senior in high school. Brian Walagorski introduced me to them. He also gave me the gift of life with giving me Yankee Hotel Foxtrot for the first time. I now know that this kid was way ahead of me. He knew that Wilco was his favorite band. I even remember him going to Chicago to see them (and thought he was crazy for doing so.) Wilco has become one of, if not, the most important band to me. This kid also gave me Yo La Tengo, which I have grown to appreciate. I forgot where Elliot Smith came from- whom I now am sincerely falling in love with. As well as The Velvet Underground. The Velvet Underground, as some ‘cant readers might know, are THE favorite of mine. I guess you could call them tied for first with Wilco. When I said this out loud to my sister, they could not believe it and thought I was messing with them. How could someone mess about something as serious as this?

Music has become so much more important to me. And I never thought it could gain any more credibility in my life. I’ve started a brand in my own head of ‘Euphoric Rock.’ Including a list of most of the above bands, it is a kind of music that makes you feel strangely happy yet disturbed in a way you cannot understand. Beautiful lyrics like poetry and voices that are choral and unexpected. Arrangements and musicianship that goes far too overlooked and a sensibility that continues to keep my brain interested.

Merriweather Post Pavilion

Since the ‘Best of 2009′ lists have been ranking Animal Collective all over their number one or two spot (in addition to friends and associates saying the same things) they are my newest band that I am venturing into. I want to see what the fuss is about, give it a chance even more. If this many people are talking about it, it has to mean something, right? This isn’t me trying to follow the crowd (or is it?) and I’m pretty sure this isn’t me conforming. Its just a message in my own brain telling me to snap out of whatever crazy bizarro world I was living in before and stop spinning the same things. Merriweather Post Pavilion is the one with the cool cover. A couple weeks ago I couldnt manage to get past the first few tracks. But with help from another friend, it seems OK and to be growing on me.

It has become more than the band members and their history. I find myself looking up information on these bands after weeks of listening to them. Right now its all about the music, recording and composition of what they want us to hear and in what order. It really is the music that I’ve found as if its been missing for all these years.

There is a lesson in this. I was so close minded for so long, listening to the same things, listening to the same manifesto of my father building the Beatles up to be more and more, without ever giving anything a chance. (Now I have to discover things like Nashville Skyline on my own, thanks to him. Thank god I did.) I couldn’t let anyone I know ever follow in these footsteps. I can’t imagine going through life without all of this, growing up without essentials and an open-minded variety. I just want to make sure that you go out and find something new. Stay on a station even if it bores you, tape a list on your wall of bands you’ve always been meaning to give another listen to, and listen to music with new people. Friends who study different things, have different views on everything from politics to clothing and friends who you never thought you’d meet can all influence you in ways I never thought they could. People with different interests and different tastes have had an incredible impression on me musically. The world of music just got a whole lot bigger. The list is endless. And everything seems to be falling into place.

First of all, and finally, you aren’t choosing not to eat organic because you disagree with it. Also, you stray from local food for normal reasons, not weird ones. You are simply trying to save money. So I think we ought to address the fact that you really are just a college student who wants to not spend a lot on food (which is all of us, helllllo.) So please stop addressing it this way. Its not that it feels incorrect, just stupid.

Also you have my dad’s paperbacks of Joan Didion and Hunter Thompson. (Actually Ivory has the latter, eh?) I am using this as a public declaration to wanting them back and hoping that this will give me good results.

i swear to whatever god that this is what came up on google image when i searched your FULL name. i couldnt help myself but include it.

OK. I’m done.