Chest Dent

Please keep the tape rollin', boys keep strumming those guitars.
We need a record of our failures, we must document our loves.

[Psst. And so it never started and it will never stop just like I am and you are.]

Travel and discontent go hand in hand. I dislike my city. I rescind some comments about Chicago being failcago. It's still got its weak points: Shitty drivers, wind, Ryan Luciani. But it's also got some strong points: History, CTA, nice bars.

I didn't care for the venue's neighborhood, or the venue all that much but it was the secondary concern, really. The weekend was full of TWSS and high-fives for our awesomeness. I solemnly swear I am never doing a non-red-eye to Toronto again. That flight drags.

Writing up the concert and whatnot later. It's time to mainline coffee right now.

1. I hate hold music, I don't care how awesome they try to make it. They could play Paper Planes over and over and over again and all that would happen is I would want to Pow Pow Pow. Actually, I think if all hold music was Paper Planes, I'd be much happier.

2. I love espresso.

3. I Am America (And So Can You) is so ridiculously offensive and awesome. I wholeheartedly endore Stephen Colbert's use of satire.

4. Hannah got fired! Team Hannah has been buzzing with text messages this morning. Information is sketchy right now, but it seems to have happened last night, which means were I still an employee of the theatre, I would've been one of the people responsible for Team Hannah's great sadness.

5. As a remnant of my youth, I still enjoy sitting cross-legged in chairs. I'm doing so at my desk right now as I drink coffee and blog about mundane things from my mundane life.

6. In the vein of The Muppet Christmas Carol, which I love and if anyone loves me back they will find it for me by next Christmas, I shall leave you with a modified version of one song: After all there's only three more sleeps 'til Chicaaaago.

Love me, hate me, say what you want about me...

I'm so happy you're so happy
Otherwise, life would be crappy.

A nice little couplet to start my day off. I had a good weekend this weekend. On Friday, I started and finished The Christmas Sweater by Glenn Beck. It's totally a religious book and I'm almost positive the writer is Mormon. Either way, my upbringing really lets me appreciate books in that vein. I think it's why I like Mitch Albom so much. That being said, still no interest in Tuesdays With Morrie.

I have my candle going again today. It's pretty hot. My desk is a what's what of awesome. That's because where my shame gland should be, there's just a second awesome gland. True story.

I can't get If You Seek Amy out of my head. It's not good. What is good is the new Manchester Orchestra album. I know I pimp them like nobody's business, but it's only because they're so, so, so, so good.

I leave for Failcago on Friday morning. I have plans for when I'm down there that include going to a grilled cheese restaurant. Actually. The weekend will go something like this:

Friday: 6 a.m. leave, noon arrive, 7 p.m. leave, 8 p.m. arrive, 1 a.m. sleep.

Saturday: 8 a.m. rise, 9 a.m. leave, 44th Ward, T-Shirt Deli, AA, UO, Museum?, Concert, Sleep

Sunday: 6 a.m. depart, 10 a.m. arrive, 3 p.m. depart, 5 p.m. arrive. 5:01 p.m. sleep.

There is no time or tolerance for going green. No time for talking, only drinking. I still have so much shit to get done before I can leave the city. Ugh. Oh well, that's what Monday, Wednesday and Thursday nights are for.

Also, Elle's grad present just came in. Yay me!