Twenty-One (Jump Street)!

I apologize profusely for not posting in quite some time, especially when I promised you all photos and stories from my Sunshine Coast vacation. Unfortunately, both my Internet connection and the Blogger photo uploader hate me, thus banding together to unleash much technological frustration. I’m sorry to say I’ll have to put yet another massive delay on that. Please accept the following word-heavy but hopefully humorous post as an apology.

One of the many ridiculous facts I’ve learned in my disgusting yet delightful Human Biology class is that every cell (with the exception of parts of the brain) in your body is replaced over the course of seven years. You’re literally a new person every seven years! Today I turned 21, meaning I’m in my ‘third body.’ So I figured I’d tap into that section of gray matter that’s been with me all along and have a little conversation with my ‘past selves.’

Note: For those of you unfamiliar with what I looked like, simply picture a girl version of Little Pete from ‘The Adventures of Pete & Pete’ for Seven. Fourteen was a bit like this picture of Caleb Followill (but with a way bigger nose) and Eighteen makes a cameo, she’s a less ginger female ‘Goblet of Fire’ era Ron Weasley. You all know should what I look like now, although my hair has gone a bit Nigel Tufnel the past few months.

21- "Wow, at least I've had consistently strange men’s haircuts!"

7- "Quiet, fart face!"

21- “Crap, I forgot. You’re at the stage where I was a little brat for no apparent reason.”

14- “Ooooh, what phase am I then?”

21- “If I’m not mistaken, you just started the hanging out in Target and obsessively listening to bands like Sum 41 era. I can’t believe we used to think we that was fun.”

14- “RAWK!”

21- “Your Sum 41 finger puppets are going to be stolen soon. Along with the whole backpack.”

14- *gasp* “Do I ever get my bloody little black backpack back?”

21- “No. And Deryck Whibley marries Avril Lavigne.”

14- “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

7- “Haha!”

14- “Shut up, 7! George Harrison and Jack Lemon die.”

7- *breaks down crying*

21- “Hey now, stop it! Some good things happen in the future! I’m a writer and I get to go to concerts for free! Plus, I’m living in Australia! Pretty cool, huh?”

14- “Do you have a boyfriend?”

21- “Um, no.”

7- “Are you a famous writer?”

21- “Not at all.”

14- “Have you at least met Heath Ledger in Australia or something?”

21- “He’s dead too.”

14- “Why must you tell me all this?! WHY?”

21- “Because you can be a tad annoying, 14. Not as annoying as 7, but yeah. It’s nothing personal, I mean, as 14-year-olds go you aren’t bad at all. You’re just in that starting puberty thing that makes everyone a bit naturally caffeinated and spazzy at times.”

7- “I made up a story about a ghost that was so scary, nobody wanted to use the second floor bathroom. Jean peed her pants. Then I jumped over the playground fence and ran home at recess. Escaping school is fun.”

21- “You creepy little evil genius. Why couldn’t it be anyone between 3 and 6 instead of you here? They were adorable.”

14- “Well surely you aren’t the oldest one, why are you here? Shouldn’t there be at least a 28 here too?”

21- “I’m probably busy by then! Perhaps touring the country with my rocker husband, taking pictures of his band along the way and writing our adventures.”

7- “Yeah, dream on. Or you're dead before 28.”

21- “God, you are so morbid! And mean! The ghost fascination stays 8 through 12, but we went back to being nice again. Why are you so bitter for just that one year?”

7- “Because I really hate school, duh. They wouldn’t let me in the special smart class. They get to play 'Zoombinis' and 'Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego?' all day!”

21- “That's why? Really? Hmmm, yeah, I was never cool, was I? Damn.”

18- “Psh, what are you talking about? I’m cool! And I’m not just saying it because I falsely think I am, like 14 does. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go babysit 3 and 4, the only other ages we were totally awesome.”

14- “Ooh, I forgot to ask, does ‘Return of the King’ turn out well? I bet it’s amazing! OMG, so excited for that!”

21- “18! I’m cool! Take me with you!”

18- “You spent the first few hours of being 21 watching Wolverine and obsessing over the inaccuracies. I like X-Men too, but man, that is pretty lame. You’re like, 21 going on 50 now.”

21- “Dammit. She’s right.”

7- "Haha, you're stuck with us!"

14- “WHEE! Look at me! I’m a pirate sailing around the living room in my purple sparkly inflatable chair! YARRR! WHEE!”

Let's Pretend That It Was Perfect

Before I tell my Soundwave tale, I would like to note that I'm not trying to be a smug name dropper. Granted, most of you who read this blog either don't know or don't care about the musicians I'll mention, but for those of you who do, I assure you I'm not trying to rub it in anyone's face. Yes, I got to meet some cool people, but my life is not glamorous. I spent five hours last night creating a character for Dungeons and Dragons because the guys I live with were short a player and begged me to join them. I have transcended my already very high level of geekiness.

Soundwave started with a photographer friend and I being told the media entrance was all the way down at the third gate. Walking down there, we noticed that a Gun and Ammunition Show was being held across the street and this worried us considerably. At Gate 3, we were told it was really Gate 1.2 we wanted, the very gate that directed us to this place. Frustrated, we trudged up the hill, past the angry looking gun nuts again, and politely explained our situation to the man at the door. With much difficulty, we figured out where we were supposed to go with only ten minutes to spare until the first sets were due to start. My friend was one of only three lucky photographers with permission to take pictures of Nine Inch Nails and we giddily shared a quick unprofessional 'OMG WE GET TO DO THIS AS OUR JOB EEEEEEEE!' moment. But then the woman with the list informed me I was not down for a media pass. I freaked out and tried calling Jenn Enders (Ace Enders' wife who had called me earlier to confirm my interview) but it went to voicemail. Ace was playing in a few minutes, so I had no choice but to shell out entirely too much money for a ticket. Yay Ramen for the next month.

I ran through the crowd of every punk, emo and goth in Queensland to Ace's stage where I managed to catch the majority of his set. Phew. My interview was to take place at 2 pm but I didn't know where I should meet them. I asked the security guard if he knew and he went to check, leaving me standing next to the stage as the crew set up for Jacks Mannequin. Then I realized that a girl in the front row was taking pictures of me. "Oh God," I thought, "Please don't let her think I'm somebody important just because I'm standing backstage." Nope, she was taking pictures of Andrew McMahon and the other members of Jacks Mannequin who were right next to me and I totally didn't realize it for five minutes. Figuring they'd know where Ace was, I asked their bassist if he'd seen him. He hadn't, then offered me some of the iced tea he was drinking. It was a sweltering day and I wasn't about to turn down a chance to make the joke that I'd swapped spit with the bassist of Jacks Mannequin, so I accepted. After taking a few huge gulps I realized it was iced tea of the Long Island variety. I'd basically just taken the equivalent of three shots of rum and vodka. At 1:30 pm. On a hot day. With an empty stomach. I knew that in about ten minutes I would be, erm, just a bit tipsy. Oh crap oh crap.

I tried calling Jenn again to see if maybe I could reschedule the time for my interview. Still her voicemail. Thus began my search for the Enders backstage at Soundwave where I technically wasn't authorized to be. The 'iced tea' kicked in somewhere right before asking the dreadlocked guy from Moneen. Who when he said he hadn't seen Ace, I responded with "Raaaah, f*** my life!" and a little kick to the air. Moneen guy about peed himself laughing at me. AWESOME. But the absolute best was when I saw Keith Buckley (the Every Time I Die singer, not the actor from James Bond).



KEITH BUCKLEYYYYYYYY!





RANDOM CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!






Have you seen Ace?





Frehley?!






Enders.





Game?!






Ace Enders. He used to be in The Early November.





Oh! That Ace. No, haven't, sorry. What band is he in now?






Um, Ace Enders. It's pretty much just him solo.





Hahahahaha. Hey, are you drunk?






Slightly. By accident.





Hahaha. ME TOO! On purpose though. Australia is awesome!



*High five*

We should have our own comedy routine. I wish I could've talked to him more, especially about the hilarious column he writes for Alternative Press, but he had to go. I would also like to point out that Keith has one of the strangest tattoos I've ever seen: Spock crying because he doesn't have a mustache.

Eventually I found Ace and Jenn, but they were all "Let's do this interview!" before I could ask them if we could move it to later. So I interviewed Ace Enders, the former lead singer of one of my favourite bands, in a less than desired state. Needless to say, it didn't go as planned and I slightly made a fool of myself. Maybe it wasn't all that bad, but I can't bring myself to listen to the recording just yet. I know I said 'magician' instead of 'musician' several times and fumbled with my recorder because it kept beeping at me. I also made a really really dumb pun that caused him to give me that 'No, please don't' look. Then we were cut short because Jacks Mannequin finally took the stage and were super loud. On the verge of tears from screwing my interview up, I stood with The Audition and watched Jacks Mannequin play. Emo times three! A choice observation from my notebook that I don't remember writing: "Lead singer of Audition has a huge mouth. Like, an Aerosmith sized gob. Whoa."

Not wanting to waste the fact that I was miraculously still backstage, I took the opportunity to wander and somehow got recruited by the catering crew for an hour. This was a lot more interesting than it seems because I got to see the lists of 'requirements' aka the food and drink bands demand be in their trailers/tents. I also got to deliver some of them. The smaller acts shared tents and just asked for some bottled water plus a deli platter or fruit & veggie tray. The guys from Horse the Band even picked their own food up, which was considerate of them. Bands higher up on the bill had a trailer to themselves and some unusual requests. I helped deliver Red Jumpsuit Apparatus their box of goodies and had to explain to them that in Australia, light beer means a beer that is lighter in colour and flavour, not low cal as Americans think of it. You heard it here first, folks, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus are a bit diva-ish. I am chock full of industry secrets.

After getting a 'Local Crew' wristband that would ensure I could get backstage again (which I unfortunately didn't get the chance to go back and use), I ventured back out to see Underoath. It ended up being more like hearing Underoath, because the crowd prevented me from actually seeing the band. I couldn't deal with that and headed towards another stage. On my way I ran into Craig Owens and chatted with him shortly then got a picture. I didn't want to bother him much, otherwise I could've talked to him all day. In person, he looks so much like Dominic Monaghan. Whom I also love. *sigh* There was a small crowd for Rival Schools, so I got a front row spot which I held through Hellogoodbye, Funeral For a Friend, and Chiodos. Standing in the same place for over four hours was well worth it, I've wanted to see Hellogoodbye for several years and Chiodos was undoubtedly the best set of the day. They even played the song I suggested to Craig (I won't say which, but if you know me you can probably guess). Usually being front row causes me ridiculous injury but this time it actually saved me because instead of pushing towards the front, people did a Wall of Death. Which is where the crowd splits at the middle then runs towards each other and start punching. Why people do this, I do not know. I just watch.

Saw a few more bands after that, nothing spectacular, then I watched NIN from very far away sitting on a bench with a friend. I was so exhausted I fell asleep during 'Head Like a Hole,' something you'd think would be physically impossible. My day still wasn't over, I was invited to the after party at Rosies. Granted, I was sitting down for most of that. It was okay, Jimmy Pop from Bloodhound Gang DJed and I was going to introduce myself as a fellow Philadelphian, but my friend said Jimmy licked his face when he said hello, so I decided against it. A few other musicians showed up, Keith Buckley was apparently in the VIP room for a bit and I'm pretty sure I saw one of the guys from Houston Calls hanging out with the ginger one from Forever the Sickest Kids. The latter is a really bad dancer, haha.

So there you go. Another patented 'How the Hell Does Danielle Always Manage to Get Into Those Sorts of Situations?!' story. Hope you enjoyed it. I'll eventually put up my interview with Ace, if I ever get up the nerve to transcribe it. :/

Sting Would Have None of This Behaviour

I wish I had a real update, but no, things are dreadfully boring here. I've been cooped up the majority of the weekend because I haven't been feeling so well. But my Snood score is better than ever!

Anyway, I just thought you would all appreciate this. I usually walk by there every day and am a bit sad I missed witnessing such an ironic event. Knowing the local media, this is going to be on the front page of the news tomorrow and 'breaking developments' will pop up the rest of the month. Hooray?

P.S. I also get much amusement by turning the sound up on my computer and startling my flatmate with this.

Wiiiiiild Horses

When I was an intern at Citypaper, one of the editors had a running joke about me being the youngest of the group. Everyone else was over 21 and would go out to bars together, especially the one dive bar across the street. The first time I went along and just sat there soberly listening to tipsy journalists tell me about ‘that time they went to Dollywood’ or their cat, Samuel L. Jackson (I will perhaps some day write another post about this, because it’s a pretty funny story). As amusing as that was, I felt a bit left out and from then on only joined my co-workers when they went for the occasional post-work cupcake. Not that eating cupcakes helped my image as the baby of the group. I was assigned to doing the listings for kids activities and walking tours. Which was a bit redundant because 50% of walking tours are things like ‘Tots Explore the Woods!’ The other 45% are home or garden tours designed for all ages but you know only the elderly will show up and the last 5% are prison, ghost, or cemetery tours for history buffs/goths/Halloween.

One day, the editor threw something at me and said in a voice usually reserved for speaking to puppies, “You are going to love this one SO MUCH! It has ponies!” In my hands was a copy of ‘My Horse and Me,’ a computer game obviously intended for 10-year-old girls. The ironic thing being that even my preteen self probably would’ve gagged at the thought of playing this. I had to beat the game and write a review of it over the weekend. Now, I’m horrible at video games, the only ones I can succeed at are things like Myst or Rock Band. Even so, I beat Myst because my Dad helped me and in Rock Band I can only be the singer. Crap as I am at playing video games myself, I love watching other people and screaming at them to "get that guy over there, quick quick, auuuuuuuugh!" My friends refer to this as my ‘Backseat Gaming.’ I overcame all that and though it took almost the whole darn weekend, I achieved victory. The article ended up being one of the most fun things I’ve ever written, and for that reason I want to try it again.

I noticed the other day the library has several computer games that look deliciously stupid and thought it would be interesting to write about them once and a while as filler for when my life is boring. Don’t worry, you need not know anything about or even have an interest in computer games. I use no technical jargon and usually spend most of my review being silly (as you can see from the ‘My Horse and Me’ link above). So expect a few of these in the future, maybe I’ll expand into another one of my favourite subjects: awesomely terrible B-grade movies. I want 2009 to be more witty and less ‘Dear blog, I’m boring. Here’s what I didn’t do today.’

And a Danny Bonaduce!

Just a quick post made from the airport terminal, where I sit way too early in the morning awaiting my flight to Sydney to spend the holidays with my parents. I had this whole great end of the year thing written, but that on my laptop back at my flat, so much for that idea.

Instead, I'll simply wish everyone a happy holiday and New Year. I leave you with my all time favourite Christmas video, yes, the animations are weird, but stick with it. Never fails to crack me up, I've watched it about 7 times in the past few days.



Have a good one, everybody! Much love.

Makin' mama so proud

A week or so back, I was on the quest for jobs as usual, this time in Fortitude Valley, and I stopped for some lunch in Gloria Jeans (the way better Australian answer to Starbucks). While ordering, I noticed the cashier was staring at me a bit, almost nervously. I began to panic, running through all the things that could be wrong in my mind. Was I obviously sunburnt and didn’t realize? Was a man with a knife standing behind me? Was there a huge bug on my shirt? And yes, I thought them in that order, which shows you how mixed up my priorities are. I noticed she was about to say something and braced for the worst. “I like your sunnies!” she said sheepishly. I thanked her, wondering where that came from and was about to turn away when she continued. “Um, you’re American, right?” I nodded, still confused. “From where abouts?” I gave her my standard answer, “Philadelphia, it’s about two hours from NYC.” She looked really excited by this and I wondered why it was so interesting that I’m American and have cool sunglasses. “NYC,” she asked gingerly, “where your cousin lives?” Holy crap, how does she know I have a cousin there? Before I could ask, she looked at my shocked face and did a little dance. “I knew it! I knew it! You thought nobody would recognize you, but you look so much like him!” she squealed with glee. I had no idea what she meant, but I knew it was too good to pass up, so I played along. We had the following conversation with me completely improvising:

Me: “Really? Man, I never thought we resembled each other at all.”
Crazy girl: “Well, I mean, not exactly, since he’s a boy. But you really have the same hair and nose.”
Me: “What can I say, those are our best traits.”
Crazy girl: “I bet Ben gave you those sunnies. That was the other thing that made me realize it.”
Me: “Actually, no. I bought these myself. But Ben has a similar pair in red.”
Crazy girl: “Shopping with them must be loads of fun, eh?”
Me: “We are complete shopping whores when I go to NYC. Yup, we raid Beacons Closet, Trash & Vaudeville, you name it.”
Crazy girl: “Ooooh! Have you met Kirsten Dunst?”
Me: “Um, no.”
Crazy girl: “So Andrew and her aren’t really dating?”
Me: “Uh, I’m not at liberty to talk about Kirsten.”
Crazy girl: “Sorry! That was wrong of me to ask. I’m just such a big fan of your cousin! And Ben too, obviously. Will you be there tonight?”

And then it all clicked. She was talking about the band MGMT, who were in Brisbane that night. She thought NYC cousin+ similar hair and nose+ nice sunglasses meant I was cousins with Andrew from MGMT. If having the same schnoz and androgynous messy hair style as rock stars from my tri-state area meant we were related, then I have a way bigger and cooler family than I thought. I once met Adam Green briefly after his concert, he was incredibly high and grabbed my hair, saying, “Hey, we’re twinssss.” With crazy girl’s logic, we must have actually been separated at birth, along with several of The Strokes, Joan Jett, and way more NJ emo bands than I’d like to admit I know of.

Another thing that made this strange scenario even funnier to me was that I’ve been told I am the spitting image of other famous musicians, usually males. The only female celebrity I’ve ever been compared to was Claudette Colbert. A classmate’s mother told me that when I was in seventh grade and I had no idea who she was at the time, but now I’m flattered. My own mother, however, loved to point out I looked just like the lead singer of Fall Out Boy circa 2003. My friends even insisted I dress up as him for Halloween (not much of a stretch because I wore boyish clothes anyway) and people did double takes. He’s a lot heavier and slightly balding now, so that comparison no longer stands. Hey, it’s not so bad though. I’d rather be told I look like the girl version of an attractive guy than have someone say, “Are you Janet Reno’s daughter?” That would be rough.

Cousin? Eh, I can sort of see it...

I am Tired and Broken

I hath failed you all again with my false promises. If it makes you feel any better, I was too busy being alone on Thanksgiving with nothing much to do. So I bought a small apple pie (not as good as home made and a bit pointless without the Tofurkey I look forward to all year) and ate it while reading a weird book my friend left me about chess and the French Revolution. That’s as close enough to the traditional as I could get unfortunately. I hear there was a mass Rickrolling during the Macys Parade and I can only imagine my family watching it with no idea what it meant. Oh how I’d like to be a firefly on the wall for that. I know that’s not how the phrase goes, but I don’t want to be a normal fly, they freak me out.

Anyhoo, continuing backwards to two Fridays ago, I got a photo pass to take pictures of some bands I was an embarrassingly big fan of in high school. I don’t quite listen to them as much now, but since I never got to see them back in the day, I thought I should at least make my inner 17-year-old happy. Well, even my inner 17-year-old felt like a geezer in this crowd. I’m pretty sure the guys in the band (who are only a few years my senior) and I were the oldest ones there, and that’s saying a lot coming from someone only about to turn 21. Halifax were the first up and I felt incredibly weird rocking out to their awesome cover of ‘Straight Up’ by Paula Abdul because looking around, I was the only one singing along. Sure, there was appreciative dancing and people seemed to like it, but nobody else knew the words. “Ew, this song is SO old.” scoffed the tiny scene girl to her fashioncore posse standing near me (they all had to be about 14). “Excuse me,” I interjected, “but some of us were alive when Paula Abdul was more than the crazy lady from American Idol.” But it turns out she didn’t mean the original, she meant this cover version was apparently ancient. This version which was released in 2004 on the Punk Goes Pop compilation I listened to obsessively my Junior year of high school. I was still older in 2004 than those kids are now. I wanted to cry. Then I’m pretty sure I did cry (in pain) when the next band came on.

The second act was one I wasn’t too familiar with, they’re called Haste The Day. I really need to research opening acts more before going to concerts, because this is usually where things go wrong. Haste The Day are a Christian metal band. Yeah, I’ve heard of that musical genre before, but like narwhals, I find them highly unusual and refuse to accept their existence until I see one up close. Let’s just say their fans mosh for Jesus enthusiastically. I was standing up front after Halifax, taking pictures (no guard rails between the stage and the crowd, every photographers’ nightmare) and when Haste the Day started, everyone rushed forward, causing me to sharply hit my shins on the foot high stage. Actually, it wasn’t even a proper stage, I’m pretty sure they were playing on way too low to the ground risers. I got to spend their whole set pushing backwards against a crowd of whippersnappers so that I didn’t topple onto the stage and be pray-screamed to.

Then Scary Kids Scaring Kids, the act I was especially there for, took the stage. Yes, I now realize I probably should have known a band with a telling name such as theirs might not have been the best to see in concert. But darn it, some of their songs are actually quite catchy if you look past the yelly parts. And I’ve always had a bit of a crush on their keyboardist, whom I was awkwardly about five inches from almost their entire set. My knee gave out a few times thanks to being smashed by the crowd into the stage and I’d be sent forward again, my hand landing on his keyboard to make a lovely BWAMP sound. That was embarrassing, but I continued taking pictures (with both a digital and manual camera, oooh impressive). The cameras are fine, but let’s just say that the bruises on my shins and knees are still healing over two weeks later. I talked to Pouyan (the keyboardist) afterward to apologize for being a guest soloist and we had the following conversation:

Me: “Sorry about being all up in your grill the whole time.”
Pouyan: “Aw, no problem. You were kickin’ ass and taking pictures!”
Me: “Haha, thanks.”
Pouyan: “Wait, are you American?”
Me: “Yeah, from Philly.”
Pouyan: “Oh, so THAT’S why you were holding your own so well, haha. When we played there it was mass chaos.”
Me: “Usually tends to be that way. So, I hear you guys like to play Uno when on tour.”
Pouyan: “Yes indeedy.”
Me: “Your other deck must be getting worn out, so I thought I’d give you my X-Men Uno set. I don’t use it much anymore and something that cool can’t just sit on the shelf.”
Pouyan: “Oh my God! You are my hero.”

With my former prized possession in even better hands and a hug from Pouyan, I happily limped to the bus stop headed back home. Even though it was crazy and I was a tad out of place, it was nice to finally see SKSK and Halifax. As I mentioned before, bits of their songs can be screamy, but I’ll leave you with this (sorry I can't embed it in the blog like usual) to see/hear why younger me especially loved SKSK. I still find it hilarious and one of the best music videos made on a low budget. Oh, and Pouyan is the one in the passenger seat playing Game Boy.

Next post I'll finally get to the Byron Bay trip, complete with lots of photos of nature and the beach. Hip hippie hooray!

Curse you, Mr. Moneybags!

I just walked two miles (slightly uphill! In the humidity!) to get to a café with free wireless so I could post this. Sadly that’s not just an exaggeration and modern twist on the classic grandparents ‘In my day’ story, it’s because I’m too damn thrifty for my own good. I just moved to a new place for the summer (winter to all you not in this strange opposite land) where the cost of Internet use rivals the actual rent, so I guess this is the way it will have to be for a few months. It’s alright though, I get some exercise and then cancel out said exercise with a brownie in the café. Win-win!

The grand total of the five of you who read this will be excited to hear your wait was not in vain. Many interesting things have happened in the course of these two weeks, but I should probably start with the most recent. Yesterday I played the most pointless game of Monopoly of my life. Normally I love it, the thrill of buying up all the utilities and railroads, then laughing evilly when my uncle lands on one of them, maybe pretending to make my dog game piece pee on his race car game piece in a moment of gloating. I may be sarcastic in my writing, but I’m generally very polite in person and board games are the one time I get to be bitchy without feeling bad about it.

In my new flat, I share the upstairs with a Chinese education major that enjoys cleaning, while downstairs is a girl from Spain who is pretty much the sassy older sister from ‘Ugly Betty’ and a British girl I still haven’t seen despite living here for about six days. The two flatmates who actually show their faces were playing cards with an Indian girl when I got in and invited me to join. Let the language barrier fun commence! Fortunately I speak Spanish well and was able to ask mi amiga the rules. Unfortunately, I’m used to Spanish with a central American accent and it took me way too long to realize that in this particular game, threes were higher than aces for some stupid reason. But at least now I know how the Chinese girl felt when she told me my accent is a lot easier to understand than the Australians because I don’t speak as fast and pronounce my words clearer. My flatmates had to leave after a few rounds and I was left with the Indian girl. Whom I had no idea who she was or why she was in our flat. Clearly she wasn’t a guest of the others since they left and she didn’t go with them. I was about to sneak away up to my room and hope she’d leave on her own, but she decided we should play Monopoly.

I’ve never played it with only two people before and now know it’s especially not fun, but at the time I had nothing better to do and agreed. The game went on for three hours even though I had clearly won a little over an hour into it. But she refused to give up even though she had about forty dollars and everything she owned mortgaged. At first it was a bit pathetic and I felt bad so I let her stay at one of my three incredibly nice houses on Trafalgar Square (oddly, this version was all London streets instead of the usual Atlantic City) free of charge. But after a while, I wanted to throw the little wheelbarrow at her head and demand she declare bankruptcy as well as who she was. Right before she admitted defeat at my ‘Donald Trump but with way better hair’ skills, she asked if I enjoyed being in her old room. Her identity revealed at last! Who goes back to their old residence to pay a visit and ends up painfully drawing out a board game with someone they’d never met before?! I may just have to hide Monopoly and put out Uno in its place because if this somehow happens again, at least Uno is quicker and there are no excuses to try staying in the game. Plus, I have a very special X-Men Uno deck that is clearly one of my greatest possessions.

I’m going to keep this entry at that wonderfully Seinfeld-esque tale of nothingness, but will make the voyage again tomorrow to post a concert story. And of course, concert + me = something incredibly stupid bound to happen! Plus, it ties in with the X-Men Uno cards! CONTINUITYZ, I HAS THEM.

Oh, and P.S. My pictures and The Awkward American were totally featured in the Nylon Blog. Take a looksy! (You have to search 'Brisbane')

This is the Final Countdooooooooooown!

Sometime earlier this week I was supposed to post about a particularly odd occurrence I had last Saturday, but what I have written up and ready to go makes little sense without the photos we took. Photos that are on my friend’s camera because mine is apparently operable by my hands only. She was supposed to e-mail them to me but keeps forgetting so you might not get to read that story for some time.

But worry not, I just returned from an equally stupid and embarrassing ordeal! My three and a half hour long Japanese Popular culture final. Nobody likes finals other than the fact that they signify the end of that particular course, but I especially can’t stand them because I seem to have things constantly go wrong on finals days. Last year, the train back to school from my internship in the city was stopped because of a stabbing (welcome to life in Philly!) two stations before mine, forcing me to take a bus then walk a few miles with a heavy backpack. I got in ten minutes before it was time for the exam and said final ended up giving me a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome.

Today wasn’t physically as troublesome, but equally stressful. I got to the testing room twenty minutes early and chatted with two guys from my study group. Before I go on, I should mention that this class is basically Japanese students expecting an easy A, a bunch of cute nerdy guys, a girl with a huge tattoo of the Transformers symbol on her arm, and myself sitting around talking about things like ‘Battle Royale’ and J-punk. So basically one of my favourite University courses ever. I talked with the guys, sad that this is probably the last time I’ll see them again and just as I thought, “Oh duh, ask them for their e-mail!” the test administrator entered the room. Dammit. They allotted ten minutes for looking through the questions and being a quick reader, I spent a good eight minutes of this time ogling my crush’s strangely attractive new Wolverine-esque facial hair. He’s attractive, I swear it! Stop picturing a mutton chopped 18th-century geezer. He first got my attention the day he practically lead the discussion on Miyazaki films AND did so wearing a Horrors shirt. You instantly get points in my book for being a fellow fan of a band I love, especially bands barely anyone else seems to know about. Many a time I’ve terrified people by running across the street towards them yelling, “AHHH! I WAS AT THAT CONCERT TOO!”

Getting back on point, it final-ly (har har) started and I got past the vocabulary section to the essays. But halfway through my second essay, the nib of my mechanical pencil simply broke off. I had not anticipate this, as it’s never happened to me before and I thought it was a fairly solid pencil. I started to panic, shoving it back in with no avail and then opened the little canister of pencil lead to see if it was possible to write with only them. The answer is no, they snap in half, which is why you need the mechanical pencil nib to hold them in place. Arrrgh! I look around nervously and see that some students are using pens in their blue books. Since when were you allowed to use pens? I raised my hand to see if I could ask one of the two test administrators to let me get a pen from my bag. The closest one had seen me freaking out internally at my pencil, but gave me an evil smirk instead of any help. NOOO! “Relax, “I thought, “Ogle the cute guy for a bit, then try again.” That worked and I retrieved my pen, huzzah! I continued working, but after a few sentences, realized the pen was running out of ink. Why was I carrying a pen with barely any ink?! I don’t even recall using this particular one much at all! So an essay and a half of a final worth 40% of my overall grade was written in decreasingly visible ink. Near the end of the essay on the Takarazuka Revue (which I’ve included a link of the wikipedia definition for because it’s hilarious/awesome) the pen died fully and I scratched, “Sorry no conclusion, my pen’s life has ended” into my already suffering paper. Fortunately my professor has a good sense of humour and will hopefully understand, but I still slightly regret doing that now.

I’m actually traveling for once this weekend, over to Byron Bay after spending tonight at the Gold Coast. I look forward to attempting surfing again, but dread the thousand more freckles bound to form as a result. The other day, Elle commented that my arms were starting to look a bit tan, but then as she came closer, she realized that at a distance, my freckles sort of meld together giving the illusion of tan. Curse my Scottish paleness.

lהngre borta הn hem

Unable to sleep and wanting to stop myself from further watching the strange Canadian cartoon about a bunch of teens taking orders from a fish with flattop hair to fight an old lady and her evil Chihuahua with a British accent, this morning I reread my last entry and I realized it was a tad snarky. They don’t even know about, yet alone read my blog, (psh, does anyone?) but I publicly apologize to my flatmates (not the one who leaves angry notes though, but he’s another matter) for being e-bitchy towards them. I just dislike how they have their own little ‘She-Ra Boy Haters Club’ and when I walk in the room they get all middle school, pretending to talk about something else like I don’t notice.

Then again, I can understand why they might not always want to spend time with me. See, they watch movies like ‘Sex and the City’ together, a film which I have suffered through seeing once already and considered breaking my own pinky finger as an excuse out of it. It’s the same reason they decline my offer to watch ‘Master and Commander,’ a Napoleonic war naval epic I have probably seen at least a dozen times. I get that I’m not exactly girly, but darn it, just because I prefer Henry Rollins to Hannah Montana doesn’t mean I’m against a good ol’ gossip fest about boys and whatnot. They should know that, considering my one wall: Kings of Leon :: the wall of an ‘80s fangirl: Tiger Beat pictures of Duran Duran. Please note however, Duran Duran < Kings of Leon, though I do enjoy the occasional boogie to “Hungry Like the Wolf.”

Getting back on point, I promised myself I would suck it up and rent a few movies all of us would like. I carefully chose three period piece costume drama type films that tend to have the right levels of romance (enough for them to keep interest but not so much that I want to gag) to battle scene (cool action, but not overly gory or annoyingly inaccurate to history) ratios. I was so proud for finally compromising like a big kid that I didn’t take much notice of the women in the city walking by with huge stupid looking hats perched on their heads. Which means I forgot today was the Melbourne Cup Horse Race, a joyous holiday which includes fighting back crowds of said hats, old men frantically placing bets, and people trying not to drop huge orders of food & booze they thought would be okay to transport back to their party on foot. It also means the TV was on the horses all day and there was to be no movie viewing tolerated. After all that, I grumpily gave up and took my bowl of store-brand Cocoa Pebbles back to my room where I spent the rest of my day reading to a soundtrack of music that's almost entirely in another language (for some reason, it’s been my favourite thing to listen to lately, especially if it’s in French or Swedish). I think this means I’m destined to end up living in a cave outside some strange modern Gaul or Viking community. Eh, it could be worse, at least I’m not one of the six people crushed to death by a vending machine every year (that was my Snapple cap fact the other day).

All You (Astro) Zombies

While Philly is having a grand old time rioting and I'm being sent photos of the carnage (from friends I'm sure helped destroy a few of those trashcans themselves... I know you guys, don't deny it), I am across the world giddy about the approach of Halloween. Once again I have crafted a perfect yet genius costume out of things I mostly already own, as I have done the past five years. But I won't spoil the surprise yet.

Last year I was a hipster zombie, both a slight social commentary and an observation that a lot of indie bands have used zombies in their music videos recently. A grand total of two people got it. Here's a photo taken in the incredibly creepy stairwell that looks like it leads to Freddy Kreuger's boiler room:
That was a fun night because people actually thought we were still acceptable trick or treating age and not weird college students out to get free candy. Plus I got to attack my friends at certain points throughout the night, screaming things like, "Euuuurgh, grande soy mocha latte brainssssss!" or "Zombies no daaaaance, we shuffle and bob heads."

Speaking of zombies, I insisted Ellie and Alexa watch the original 'Dawn of the Dead' movie with me today because it's the greatest and most hilarious horror film ever made. Okay, I can't say that because I generally don't like horror movies and therefore haven't seen all of them, but you can't deny George Romero's genius. First of all, I love how all his movies are set in Pennsylvania. With those, the M. Night Shyamalan films, the Blob (and its sequel), and a few others I'm sure I'm forgetting, Pennsylvania must be the state where the most horror movies take place. So we got that going for us, plus as horror movie law dictates, the characters are incredibly stupid. Those elements alone make 'Dawn of the Dead' highly amusing to me, but I'm sold when you throw in zombies wandering the Monroeville mall to a polka song (which was later made into the 'Robot Chicken' theme), a motorcycle gang smooshing pies in zombies faces, and a man in a sombrero getting ripped apart because he chose the worst time ever to check his blood pressure. Don't be put off if you hate scary movies, it's not the least bit terrifying. I've watched it many times and I once had a mini panic attack just from the trailer for 'Cloverfield.'

And now because I can't find good quality videos for any of the Misfits songs I wanted to post, I'll settle for the creepiest music video I could think of off the top of my head (it isn't about Halloween, but oh well). They're awesome all year 'round, but especially appropriate now, one of my favourite bands of the past five years, heeeeeeeeeere's The Horrors!

It's hip to be a square!

I know this post is supposed to be the Yeasayer interview and pictures, but I still haven't finished the former. Twenty minutes of talking takes a lot longer to transcribe than one might think. Also, I've spent a bit too much time watching my new obsession, 'Chuck.' Hey, I have time to kill now that I don't have a job (thanks dumb boss and crappy economy!) so why not rent the entire first season of a TV show and watch the whole thing over the course of two days?

For those of you not familiar with the show, Chuck is an adorable nerd who works for the Nerd Herd at Buy Mart (basically the Best Buy Geek Squad, but they couldn't say that) and he accidentally sees a top secret computer file that puts restricted government information into his mind. The last part of that is a bit complicated to explain, it's all to do with the CIA and spies and stuff. Anyway, as cool as the spy factor is, my favourite part of the show is Chuck and his awkward friend, Morgan. They talk about the Arcade Fire, Guitar Hero, Lord of the Rings, and sandwiches in the cutest bantering way.

It is with great joy that I add Chuck and Morgan to my 'Adorably Nerdy Guys I Have Way Too Big Crushes On Considering They're Just Fictional Characters' Hall of Fame:
(Morgan Grimes as played by Joshua Gomez on the left, and Chuck Bartowski played by Zach Levi on the right)

The other members (in no particular order) include the likes of...
Milo Ventimiglia as Jess Mariano in 'Gilmore Girls,' not the classic definition of a nerd, but still very much one none the less. I was always mad Rory never ended up with Jess, considering they were both witty and shared a passion for reading and old movies. Yes, he had a bit of an attitude problem at times, but he eventually overcomes it. In fact, he moved to Philadelphia and opened up an awesome looking bookstore and Rory visits him to find he has matured. But she stayed with her stupid rich idiot college boyfriend. I remember watching that episode and wishing Jess was real so I could find his bookstore and flirt with him. Milo Ventimiglia is alright, but Jess Mariano, how I adore you.

Shane West as Dr. Ray Barnett on 'ER,' aka the reason I watched 'ER.' Why did you have to get hit by a car and have your legs amputated?! I really hope Dr. Ray comes back, because the show is way too depressing without all the times he pops up to make jokes or talk about punk music.
Gregory Smith as Ephram Brown from 'Everwood,' sighhhh. I was obsessed with this show and the often moody Ephram who could be a tad annoying, but then he'd make an anime reference and I'd love him again. Plus, Gregory Smith has been one of my crushes since he was Sport in 'Harriet the Spy.' Oh, and the actress who played Ephram's baby mama, Madison, is now on 'Chuck,' as Chuck's sister!Adam Brody as Seth Cohen in 'The OC,' though keep in mind I only mean Seasons 1 and 2 Seth Cohen. After that, the show started to go downhill and I stopped watching. This is a pretty obvious character for this list, as he's sort of the King of Nerdy TV Guys. But I can't help loving a guy who talks to a toy horse called Captain Oats and draws comics about his friends. Josh Schwartz, who created 'The OC' also came up with 'Chuck,' so the man is clearly a genius.Chris Marquette as Adam Rove from 'Joan of Arcadia,' the quintessential art nerd. It's been a while since I've seen this show, but I'm pretty sure half the reason I liked this character was because he reminded me of a guy in my art class I had a crush on.
Pretty much any role ever played by Jason Schwartzman. Okay, with this one, I love his characters because he plays them with such a charming quirkiness. Even Max from 'Rushmore,' who is a loser and borderline stalker is completely lovable because it's Jason Schwartzman.
Richard Ayoade as Maurice Moss in 'The IT Crowd,' hear me out on this one. He's probably the nerdiest of the bunch, but he's a brilliantly hilarious character. I highly recommend this underrated Britcom to everyone. Watch it and you'll want to hug Moss too.Jon Cryer as Duckie Dale from 'Pretty in Pink,' the original cute nerd underdog. Every time my Mom and I watch this movie, we're both swooning during the scene where Duckie lip syncs and dances to "Try a Little Tenderness." This is a bit weird, but I still think Jon Cryer's attractive now.
Patrick Flueger as Jeremiah in 'The Princess Diaries,' a character who does nothing in terms of plot, but is awesome regardless. I love the male lead in this movie (played by Jason Schwartzman's brother) too, but for some reason, Jeremiah and his way too red hair won me over back in middle school. All Jeremiah does is get picked on and do little card tricks, but he'll forever be one of the best elements of this film.

Patrick Fugit as Patrick in "Saved!" That's right, a Jesus nerd made my list. His character is just so sweet and accepting when almost everyone else in the movie is that hellfire and brimstone 'all sinners must pay' type of Christian. Now, I'm not super religious, but I wouldn't mind going out with the son of a Pastor if he were like Patrick.

So there you go, I clearly have too much time on my hands and looking back on this, I realize that all 12 guys on this list have brown hair (er, Jeremiah doesn't, but the guy that plays him does, so that counts). Guess I prefer fellow brunettes, haha. Wait, does brunettes only apply to women? It's the suffix 'ette' that makes me think so... Hmm, what do you call guys with brown hair then? Never mind, now I'm being a word nerd.

Peace out, rainbow trouts/Girl Scouts!