Soundtrack to a Year (2009)

Good bye 2009, and good riddance. There were things I’d keep, important things, whole months of being just completely happy, but overall you were the pits. I had to come to the hard realization that I wasn’t going to Europe any time soon. I got the crappiest job I really could imagine and can’t find anything else. Everything stagnated. Fun I had in 2008 slowed until it was at more of a standstill than anything else. It was not good on a personal level. Oh, this doesn’t mean I walked around completely depressed all the time, it just means I’ve had better years. Still, I’m honestly and famously nostalgic.

This is the second year I have made a yearly soundtrack, but the first time I am sharing it with anyone. In any case, K will probably be interested. So here they are; the songs I listened to on repeat, the good, the bad, and the appalling.

1) Don’t Stop Believin’ – Glee Cast Version

I made myself pick only one Glee song, and this is it. I still think it’s the best rendition they’ve done, though I’ve loved all the songs, and figure the one that started it all is probably the best one to pick. The original version of this song has obviously had some sort of comeback recently too, which I am sure was rather a surprise to Journey.

2) A Little More Of You – Ashley Chambliss

This song was in the very beginning of Effy’s episode of the third series of Skins and I couldn’t quite help being impressed. On first viewing all I could think was ‘that was weird’, but after awhile I realized how much it suited the character herself. So much is portrayed with so little, and the whole beginning is about three minutes of no speaking but so much being said.

3) Forevermore – Katie Herzig

This song reminds me of being young. It’s like two people just having fun and leaving all the bad stuff for later, being childish, possibly immature, and just sort of happy. It’s kind of how I’d like my life to be.

4)  Wicked Blood – Sea Wolf

This song has the best music video ever, enough said.Well, plus it’s a really good song.

5) Trouble is a Friend – Lenka

Lenka is the kind of pop music that we need more off. Soft, sort of sweet, and catchy. This song was sort of a recent taste for me, but still firmly in 2009. I like this one because of the tune, but also because… well, trouble is everyone’s friend.

6) Sentimental Heart – She & Him

I love Zooey Deschanel, though I am not entirely why. She’s probably the reason I saw ‘(500) Days of Summer’ but Joseph Gordon-Levitt wasn’t exactly a drawback (seriously, he wore sweater vests through that ENTIRE movie). She made this album awhile ago, but it was slow for me getting into it. This song I picked because it reminds me of me. I think too much, analyze things to death, and they make me sadder than they should.

7)  No One Sleeps When I’m Awake – The Sounds

I loved The Sounds’ first album. Maybe it was where I was in my life, maybe it really was just that good, but I loved very song on it. The second album was meh. I still had high hopes for the third and this single didn’t disappoint. I really love this song because it’s just sort of fun and anthemy. The rest of the album… well, lets just say it hasn’t grabbed me.

8)  Zero – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

This song, this whole album really, reminds me of Whiskey Island. I went there one Saturday to explore once and took photos of the old abandoned Coast Guard station. It reminds me of spring days when the weather is just starting to click into place, doing creative things, and seeing things from new angles.

9)  New in Town – Little Boots

We have reached the dancey section of this playlist. This year was probably the year of dancey music for me. It seems like pop music is heading that way anyway. And let’s face it, I like some really crap music. Still, I am a firm believer that people like music because it makes them feel a certain way, and there’s nothing wrong with feeling energized and escapist. Little Boots, in general, is just that. Dancey, inconsequential fun that’s pretty much unapologetic. New in Town was the first one I loved. Plus, how cute is the name ‘Little Boots’?

10)  I Know UR Girlfriend Hates Me – Annie

I am loathe to put anything where the title is not spelled out properly on this playlist, but Annie should make an appearance and this was my recent favorite of this Norwegian. It doesn’t mean much, just that she’s good friends with some guy who’s girlfriend is jealous as hell, but it’s the fun beat, childish methods, and Lolita-esque album cover that gets this on the list.

11)  Bad Romance – Lady Gaga

This is probably one of the catchiest songs of the year, but that’s not why I love. I am not exactly sure what it is that makes me love Lady Gaga, though I am sure it’s not “because she’s a cute little blonde thing that sings pop music and also FREAKS EVERYONE OUT”. She’s a personality, and she’s talented whether you like her songs or not. At least she writes them. ‘Bad Romance’ makes sense to me, and I love the chorus.

12)  We Rule the World – Dragonette

Dragonette I just got to know this year, and mostly they remind me of driving towards Willoughby on spring days before my car went kablewy. This song is from their new album, which I honestly haven’t listened to much. But I love this song because it makes me want to write something about crap superheroes. Wow Girl and Canoe Guy need not apply, you’re already in.

13)  (Do You Wanna Date My) Avatar – The Guild featuring Felicia Day

This goes in because it’s hilarious. The perfect mid-nineties parody song and music video. Okay, so I don’t play WoW, nor would I ever, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love ‘The Guild’ and this hilarious song about online gaming. Well, maybe I can relate a little bit.

14)  Issues – The Saturdays

This song had to make it’s way into my list because it made me laugh so many times over the year. The line ‘can’t decide if I should slap you or kiss you’ seriously sounds like ’stab’. I’m half convinced it really is, and it’s just a little extreme.

15)  Party in the U.S.A. – Miley Cyrus

This is hands down probably the stupidest song of the year, unfortunately it ties ‘Bad Romance’ for second most catchy song of the year. The lyrics are inane, the beat has been heard before, and yet somehow whenever it comes on I can’t help singing out loud.

16)  Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet – Fall Out Boy

Oh, Fall Out Boy, how stupid you are. How high school. How… well I will leave that. Somehow I loved at least half your last album. Strange things happen. And this song is catchy, and sort of musically interesting. And J hated me for putting on one of K’s mixes.

17)  Change – Taylor Swift

I don’t like country, really, but there are some artists that you hear about so much that you eventually have to check them out. Taylor Swift is adorable, that’s really all there is to say about that. Her songs bridge between country and pop pretty damned well and most of her songs aren’t just completely stupid. This song is pretty inspiring, actually.

18)  Blow Away – A Fine Frenzy

I like A Fine Frenzy so when this new single appeared on iTunes I had to give it a listen. It didn’t seem like them, but I gave it a chance anyway. Several months later I couldn’t stop listening to it. It was one of those random things where I left it be for awhile before discovering it on the lonely drive to work (which is honestly ten minutes away but lonely because everyone else is sleeping). I like the beat, but it’s the lyrics I love.

19)  Who’d Have Known – Lily Allen

You either love her or hate her. Probably because she comes across as the most annoy individual on the planet with an IQ in direct co-ordinance with a common tree frog. However, I do generally like her music. And I listened to the album a lot. There were a few that might’ve made the cut but this is the one that I chose because it reminds me of me, and because it’s about the most mundane things in the world. Watching television and drinking wine, staying up late talking and planning out the specifics of the next day. That’s life.

20)  Science vs. Romance – Rilo Kiley

This is an old song that I used to love and if I had mad yearly soundtracks in the past this might’ve been on one of them. However, it got a resurgence this year. Why? Well I don’t know really, does it have to do with anything? Probably not, however… it’s a really good song. And the lyrics are how I feel probably about 70% of the time.

21)  The Calculation – Regina Spektor

This song is fairly peppy, which isn’t exactly par for course with Regina Spektor. If she even has a par for course that is, cause it’s debatable. But I like peppy sometimes and this one does it for me. Besides, I like the lyrics. I like the bit about making computers out of macaroni pieces and hitting stone hearts against the counter top until they start beating. In all it’s absurdity it feels… true.

22)  Remains – Maurissa Tanchareon & Jed Whedon

This song has to make it in for several reasons. First and foremost, it’s a good song; well written and melodic. Second, though, is because it was written for and featured heavily in one of the best forty-five minutes of television I have ever seen. Say what you like about Dollhouse, but ‘Epitaph One’ was amazing. It was exhilarating, heartbreaking, and confusing as hell, just how good television should be.

23)  Happiness – Goldfrapp

I liked this song before it was in that Syfy Channel commercial. But I love that commercial. It’s so magical and lovely and cheesy as all hell. And this song sounds like it’s an homage to the Beatles. It sounds like a song you could lay in the grass, staring at the sky, smile, and be happy to. It pretty much sounds like happiness.

24)  Cacophony – Tilly & the Wall

Well, cacophony is one of my favorite words, along with epiphany, euphoria, epitome, and serendipity. I like Es, clearly. But really, I love Tilly & the Wall (they have a tap dancer instead of drummer, how cool is that??) and there were probably a few songs I could have picked, but I didn’t, I picked this one.

25)  I Like It – Lacuna Coil

I will never be able to think of Lacuna Coil without thinking of my friend Laura who I have completely lost touch with since I am a shitty friend who is terrible at keeping in touch with people. But when this song came out it reminded me a lot of how I was feeling. It also reminds me of driving by Squire’s Castle.

26)  Alone – Heart

This song gets it’s honor because it’s pretty much the only song on the loudspeaker at work that I like. I have to wait a long time between rotations, days really, but it always comes back again and I end up singing under my breath and using stock I am stocking as makeshift microphones. It doesn’t hurt that they used it in Glee too.

27)  Ticket Away from Prague – HotChaCha

This is my favorite song on HotChaCha’s full album, and I love HotChaCha. I am not sure there’s anything else to say about that.

28) Bourgeois Shangri-La – Miss Li

This is another one from a advertisement, though to be honest I heard it first when I downloaded Miss Li’s latest album. What can I say, I have a weakness for Swedish singers, and when their music is delightfully substantial then I’m extra happy. I would use this song on a television pilot about a career woman who randomly wakes up in the suburbs. It could work.

29)  Good Ol’ Fashion Nightmare – Matt & Kim

I think I heard this song the first time on a commercial for that show Community. Well, that’s probably not true but that’s when I first paid attention. There are others on this album I could have said but I listened to this one far too many times. It’s the little beatboxness, and little chorus.

30)  Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop – Landon Pigg

Yes, this is in a phone advertisement. I don’t even remember what brand. But besides that it makes me think of Sunday mornings, used book shops, tea in paper cups with cream and sugar, fingerless gloves, and holding hands on the street.

31)  White Winter Hymnal – Fleet Foxes

This song is everywhere. I clicked on a link Dianna Agron posted on Twitter only to find this music video, my friend was searching for music on my iPod and came across her ‘favorite song of right now’. But, mostly because I could have listened to this on repeat. Actually, I did listen to this on repeat, loudly and with headphones while thinking of things.

32)  All Tomorrow’s Parties – The Velvet Underground & Nico

There have been a million times in my life when I have listened to a song dozens of times and still not absorbed it. For some reason, this year I really liked All Tomorrow’s Parties. Perhaps it was my frame of mind, perhaps it’s because Nico’s voice enthralls me in it’s inelegance, or perhaps it was the awful lot of lying on my back and staring at the ceiling I did. The world will never know.

33) Love Letter to Japan – The Bird and the Bee

This is the catchiest song on the planet. I used to wake up singing this song. I’d sing it in the shower, I’d walk around humming this tune. There were probably solid weeks where my brain processed nothing but this song. And then I inexplicably forgot it existed. Now that I’ve refound it… it’s stuck in m head again. Good thing I think it’s a genuinely good pop song.

An Interlude… of sorts.

I have a problem with The Wizards of Waverly Place.

For those of you who are unaware of what this show is, and I will not be surprised as I am sure that most of the people who read this blog do not casually watch Disney Channel shows like I do, it’s Disney’s rip off of Harry Potter and it’s about three wizard siblings who live with their parents in a very fake looking New York City. They go to regular school and they get tutored in their wizarding ways by their father. And of course there’s a catch, because it’s Disney and there’s always some sort of hook, there can only be one wizard per family so at some time or another the three siblings are going to have to do some sort of… I don’t know wizarding competition to decide who gets all the powers and who’s just a normal person for their rest of their lives. Another catch, wizards apparently can’t marry non-wizards or they forfeit their powers, as what happened with the parents.

Okay synopsis over, cause that’s not the important thing anyway. What’s bugs me about the show is this; the main character, Alex Russo (played by Selena Gomez), sucks completely. This girl has no patience for her friends or family. She hates school and is vocal about it, always talking about how lame it is. She makes fun of her brother for liking and being good at academics. She makes fun of reading. She is literally a walking talking advertisement for being a complete bimbo with a few episodes of her liking art thrown in. While I enjoy this show at times in a mindless, I-don’t-have-to-pay-any-sort-of-attention background sound sort of way I find that I really just can not enjoy Alex. Which is a bit of a problem given the fact that she’s the main character.

Another issue is a bit more episodically specific. In a recent episode Alex’s best friend Harper decided she wanted to run a marathon. So she started the logically thing and began training. Mind, Harper, even though she’s scatterbrained, paranoid, and makes clothing out of stuff that really should not be clothing, is by far the most endearing character. Well, apparently the sound of Harper on the treadmill is so annoying to Alex that she casts a spell so that Harper wins the marathon. I really am not sure I understand why this is necessary and/or helps at all, but whatever. The part I have issue with is this: the parents start becoming Harper’s biggest advocates, making tee shirts with her face on them and being generally spastic on the cheering front. And why is this? Because none of their other children have achieved any sort of prize. But of course that’s not true, as the elder son Justin reminds them he has a whole shelf full of trophies. But eh, those are just academic trophies, they want one that’s for sports.

Seriously??? I mean, I have been annoyed by Disney’s repeatedly making school seem stupid through Alex’s continual mocking, but is this really what we want to be teaching our children? That school is irrelevant and academic achievements aren’t worth nearly as much as physical ones? I am all for comedy and spasticism (I might’ve just made up that word but it’s sticking), but really??

Little Things.

Well it’s been awhile. No excuses really except the fact that my job makes me so tired I can hardly think of writing, well, ever. Though I’m working on it, I’m working on a lot of things lately.

Anyway, I’m reading this book which can’t entirely be said to have a plot. Loosely, it’s about a Parisian concierge who’s far more intelligent than her station and provides the reader with an onslaught of philosophical renderings. There’s also Paloma, whose name only gets mentioned because I am rather fond of it. Paloma is twelve, brilliant, and is desperately trying to make the tiny beauties she observes give her a reason to live. She’s stoically and meticulously planning her suicide to coincide with her thirteenth birthday. It’s called The Elegance of the Hedgehog (L’élégance du hérisson, thought don’t get too impressed I am reading it in English), which was reason enough for me, and it’s pretty much a tidy array of ponderings, observations, and philosophical musings. Now, I can see how this would not be someone’s cup of tea, there isn’t much story after all and I think if I had realized this incredible lack prior to beginning I would have said ‘meh’ and been done with it. But I didn’t, and I love it.

And, I think one reason is because the characters remind me of me. Now, I’m not claiming myself to be some sort of über-intellect, far from it. I think you’ll find I’m rather good at disparaging myself on that matter. But, at the same time, I do tend to ponder things and might be slightly overeducated, having taken a obscene amount of classes in an obscene amount of areas of study while still managing to never obtain a degree. I know that I over think things, this much is evident. I know, par exemple, that sometimes while using any of my various Instant Messaging devices I tend to start thinking of things which turn into me pretty much talking to myself as I keep adding new tidbits to the thought so that it turns into a probably really daunting block of text. I’m also often victim to endless self-analysis… which in and of itself is a bit disheartening.

A coworker, we’ll call her C, always likes to say that I hate everything. Mostly this is because recently I have been talking about how I hate Christmas (to be fair, I don’t hate Christmas, I just got sick of it fast when the stuff came in August and the songs started over a month ago) when the Valentine’s Day stuff started arriving. I will not get into my loathing of Valentine’s Day, hell all of February can go as far as I am concerned (we can move Black History Month) because I think I could devote a whole blog to it and this one is most certainly not it. When I started talking about how much I hate silly love songs (the genre not the song, ironically I don’t hate the song). But seriously, The Job plays some of the sappiest crap on the planet. And I am not against love; I just roll my eyes at the sentimentality of it… even though I know for a damned fact that I am not immune. But once ‘Endless Love’ came on for the third time (only decent when Rachel and Mr. Shue sing it… if you don’t know what I am talking about get off my blog… for refer to four blogs ago) I couldn’t help my outburst of ‘I HATE LOVE SONGS’, which… amused everyone for some reason but also prompted C to say that I hate everything. It’s really not true, though, like Paloma I try and find joy from the small things.

Things I hate could go in a long column, but so could things I like. Little things that shouldn’t matter but ultimately do. Things like plum jam, new book smell, and those pressed pennies people get at tourist attractions. And there are other things; like bridges. Berlin is said to have more bridges than Venice and more trees than – okay I can’t remember where they have more trees than, I am not sure if that’s why I love Berlin but I am sure it doesn’t hurt.

Cleveland has a lot of bridges too, and right now I am about hip deep in a project to photograph them. I don’t imagine I’ll get them al, but someday I’ll be satisfied. When I mentioned this at work they seemed to think it was really weird. Maybe it is, but I hardly think I’m alone in this particular quirk. Still, it caused me to think about why and I came to a conclusion. Someday, probably somewhere between Australopithecus and the Bronze Age (I am betting a bit nearer the former) someone was standing at a river or valley or gorge or whatever and wanted to get across. They probably stared for a good long while, annoyed by this problem. Then maybe there was some sort of storm that caused a tree to fall across this gorge which (we’ll call her) Lucy decided to cross, then one day she comes across another gorge, remember what she’s seen and feels a tree again, this time on purpose. Now, obviously, I was there, and I imagine she probably came across the fallen tree on it’s own, never wishing to cross the gorge until she could, but I can imagine this sort of scene well enough. Bridges were built out of necessity and grew into something that could be beautiful. I’m not huge on architecture (besides Gaudí, of course), I like certain style and designs but it fails to move me like it moves other people, but bridges really do it for me. There are so many fashions and elaborate techniques throughout history, but they are all there because the have to be. They connect things, make the world a little bit easier or functional at all. Cleveland and Ohio City were two different places once, before they were connected by a bridge, then another bridge, until Ohio City just became an area segmenting Cleveland for a couple blocks.

I think this may have something to do with my love of lighthouses and windmills too; they’re both simplistic in basic style while still being interesting and above all, completely functional. Someone someday realized that ships were wrecking at a certain spot and built a building to warn them away. Someone realized that they could harness the wind’s energy to generate power, to turn their wheels and grind their corn.

I am not sure what this says about me. That I’m practical and like practical things? I am not certain that’s true. While I do form opinions and ideals centered around a certain amount of logic I can’t imagine anyone would accuse me of being overly practical; practical people don’t buy books instead of food or stay up too late watching trashy TV when they know their alarm is going off at 4:00am. They also tend to have their lives in order a site bit more than I, and they don’t dream of running off to Las Vegas to become a cocktail waitress just because they think it would be fun. So I am left with simple aesthetics then. Maybe I just like the looks of bridges, and lighthouses and windmills. Maybe there is no real reason and I just spent hours upon hours analyzing something pointlessly.

Well, at least that’s nothing new.

In Defense of Cleveland (’30 Rock’ agrees…)

I haven’t blogged in awhile now and there’s two reasons for this. One is simple; my grandpa died last week and I was a site too busy to post any inane ramblings on the internet. But also because I started to care how many people were reading my blog everyday and what started as something for me suddenly seemed self-indulgent and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But here I am with a few more things to say, I guess, so I am.

I was watching 90210 last week and one of the characters was considering not celebrating her half birthday. I, of course, initially thought it was a little weird that she was considering celebrating it in the first place and that her friends (who… weren’t her friends last season, if someone has any insight as to what the heckles is going on there please feel free to raise your hand here) were so insistent that she do so. Well, I thought, maybe this is just a California thing. Maybe it’s a Beverly Hills thing. All the teenage girls within the 90210 post code treat there half birthdays as a National holiday, what do I know? But then the story went on to explain that Silver, the character in question, was repeatedly disappointed by her mother when she was little to the point where instead of celebrating her birthday when she had high expectations of what the day might hold, she would celebrate her half birthday… because no one expects anything of them.

Watching this on Thursday afternoon with my birthday looming the next day I couldn’t help but agree that that might not be too bad an idea. I can’t remember the last time I had a good birthday. They have been boring, they have been okay, and they have been downright depressing.

On my twenty-fifth I spent the day at work behind a consession counter crying my eyes out because I have twenty-five and nowhere near where I thought I would be at twenty-five. Menial job, few friends, no idea what I wanted to be when I ‘grew up’. Sadly, in the subsequent three years not much has changed except that I have an even worse job and live with my mother. I wish that I could say that there weren’t any tears this year but instead I will assure everyone that there were no public tears, which is much worse. And the people at Chick-fil-A were extra nice as I got my fast food to eat alone in the car. Though, really, I will chalk that up to the fact that Chick-fil-A employees are always overly chipper and nice to the point where I wonder if they are all secretly harboring a desire to reach through the speaker and choke us all to death.

When I sat down to write this blog I had the idea to talk about some of the restaurants in Cleveland. K, J, and I have been getting into good restaurants lately. It might have something to do with the fact that my paychecks lately will pay for a little more than a ten dollar hamburger at the Winking Lizard, but I think it has more to do with us examining further into Cleveland’s potential. I have a sister, who will no doubt read this in a couple weeks and feel the need to make some snarky comment, who lives in Chicago. I think that she thinks Chicago is the best place in the world. And I am not knocking Chicago, I like it there, I pretty much only joined the World Affairs Club and thus Model United Nations in high school in order to get the trip to Chicago, which the University of held yearly at the Palmer House Hilton. I mean, really, why would anyone not want to endure a bit of conference to stay somewhere that looks like this:

In a city that looks like this:

Every year me and my friend… I don’t know what to call her, we’ll go with MS (though I suppose it’d be MM now? I’m sticking with MS) would sneak out of the hotel, get in a cab, and go over to Water Tower, which… was pretty much the only part of Chicago we were aware of and we’d get some dinner, go to the movies (there were probably infinitely cooler things that we could have been doing, but cool was never our strong suit), and generally feel like adults. We loved it. And when it came time to apply to college my first choice was there. I cut out a life for myself in my head. Imagined getting gyros from crappy store fronts, taking the train places, walking to different neighborhoods. Well, if you’re reading this you probably know me well enough to know that that didn’t happen. And it’s only a little bit ironic that everything I wanted for myself my sister got a couple years later. And she hasn’t left, and probably never will.

I don’t know what life would have held for me if I had succeeded on that path but that’s not what I am talking about here. Though it may not be quite evident what I am talking about is Cleveland. Said sister came home recently, for the aforementioned funeral, and we started talking about the good old Cleve. Her standpoint was that there isn’t anything in Cleveland that there isn’t anywhere else. Okay. Sure. But, really, is there anything anywhere that isn’t anywhere else?

There are cities. Beautiful, grand, majestic cities that are the best places in the world. The ones that have history and culture and artists and architecture that’s better than anywhere else in the world. Paris comes to mind. Rome, Florence… most places in Italy actually, London to an extent, even New York has some. I am not talking about these places. I realize that there is only one Sistine Chapel. Only one Notre Dame de Paris. The Tower of London is unlikely to transpose itself anywhere else, although London Bridge did a good job of it.

Cleveland might not have things that aren’t anywhere else but what it has is pretty damned good. The Cleveland Museum of Art for example, while not the Art Institute (which I love, hello haystacks), houses more than 43,000 works by the likes of Caravaggio, El Greco, Poussin, Rubens, Goya, Turner, Dali, Matisse, Renoir, Gauguin, Church, Cole, Corot, Eakins, Monet, van Gogh, Picasso, and Bellows. And that’s permanent, I am not including the always stellar special exhibits that are consistently showing. Plus, they have so really great events, such as the ‘Thank Gauguin It’s Friday’ events. K, J, and I went to the absinthe tasting one. It was great along with being reasonably priced.

And if it’s art you’re after it doesn’t end with CMA. There’s also the Cleveland Institute of Art with it’s various galleries and events (not to mention the Cinematheque). There’s also tons of other galleries, Little Italy and Gordon Square spring to mind. The Pop Shop ain’t too bad either (http://www.popshopgallery.com/index.html), same with Waterloo. For some reason Cleveland tends to be a bit of a haven for artist, probably because it’s a city small enough to be accessible and for their communities to shine through.

Then there is the theatre. Us Clevelanders like our theatre, and while the ballet has sadly gone to pass, there is still the Opera and of course the world famous Orchestra. We have Playhouse Square, where the larger productions live, the traveling Broadway types, and also the Play House which stages it’s own productions. There’s the Great Lakes Theatre Festival, the Beck Center, Cleveland Public Theatre, 4th Wall, Convergence-Continuum, and Dobama. Ranging from large to small there is something for everyone.

We also have our fair share of restaurants now. Not that they weren’t always there, but it seems like in the last five years a new crop have opened of tasty delights that are getting some real recognition. Michael Symon is probably the corner stone of all this… Iron Chef and all, and with Lolita, Lola, Bar Symon, and the forthcoming B Spot there’s a variety of prices and choice. And let’s not forget the Greenhouse Tavern, one of my favorites, a sustainable restaurant centering on local and regional choices, it was just named on of Bon Appetit‘s ten best restaurants in the country.  L’Albatros I tried for the first time last night, I would have gotten the cassoulet but my mother opted for that and I got the veal short ribs. Both were amazing and I wasn’t surprised they were featured in Esquire. Luxe too, featuring an array of delicious choices from pizzas and pastas to comfort foods like the Kobe corn dog or rosemary cheesy grits with duck sausage. And I have to mention Momocho, ‘mod mex’ food with some of the best guacamole and sauces I have ever had. I order the wild boar and even though I know I should try something new next time I am still salivating over the dish I had. Then of course there’s the Great Lakes Brewing Company. Yes, they are known for their beer, but the tavern is cozy, the food good, and the bread pudding to die for. I could probably come up with a few others to put on the list (Paladar, Beachland brunch) but that could go on forever.

The sister pointed out that Cleveland might have some really good places but Chicago is constantly on the best restaurants list, and another person was telling a story about how the concierge at their hotel said there were 38 new restaurants in the last six months. That’s great, it really is, but I don’t have a problem with having a much more manageable restaurant set.

So, sure, maybe there isn’t much in Cleveland that you can’t find anywhere else, but… who cares? Cleveland’s affordable, fun, and tons to do. It’s easy to miss out on it, I suppose, if you don’t look you don’t find, so I suppose you could say it’s subpar to Chicago in that respect, but I can’t imagine being busier than I already am. Cleveland’s smaller, sure, and Chicago is great. But I don’t mind a little of this:

In Which LadyLinzi Gets Annoyed By Slasher Film Reboots.

There are several things I feel I need to add about the Sexy Jason/Miss Voorhees costume. My first reaction is, of course, an open mouthed, sort of gaping pronouncement of ‘I have nothing to say about this’. Which should be true, but this is still me so really my brain is probably thinking way too many things about it. And while they don’t need saying I am going to say them anyway, because that’s what I do.

One, I understand the fact that Jason wears a hockey mask. We all know this. It’s probably his defining piece of wardrobe. I mean, does anyone pay attention to whatever else he’s wearing? Still, it’s not like he’s a rogue hockey player who ran away from an away game to wreck havoc on random town number twelve. In fact he only seemingly has the mask in the first place because the jokester in Part 3 decided to go scuba diving in a dark lake while wearing a hockey mask. So why exactly is ‘Miss Voorhees’ wearing a tight mini-skirt, low cut hockey outfit? I suppose it’s cause it’s hard to sex up overalls and lumberjack-esque button downs.

And, two, why, I mean WHY, would anyone want a sexy female version of any sort of serial killer outfit? I’m not above it, I love slasher films, and Friday the 13th is (for absolutely no real rhyme or reason) my favorite franchise. I have my Jason mask in the basement, I have my machete sitting there across the room, I don’t entirely know what this says about me but there you have it. But having lame paraphernalia around the house doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten the fundamentals here: There is absolutely nothing about Jason Voorhees that’s remotely sexy. He’s a massively deformed, mentally handicapped recluse to lives in the forest and doesn’t seem to do much other than kill people who happen to visit his camp, or… well, Manhattan…, at a particular time of year. I often wondered what would happen if I visited Crystal Lake on Tuesday the 6th. That being said, he is smashing with a harpoon.

On another Jason related note I feel the need to talk about remakes. [Since I am not a bitch I shall warn, spoilers within.] I am not going to rant and rave about how they need to come up with an original horror film, cause there’s enough of that. And I am not even talking about the ones translated from other languages. For every Ringu or Ju on that gets remade into English there are probably two straight English remakes. And, let’s face it, there really aren’t enough Americans who will tolerate subtitles. [Note to Americans who wont tolerate subtitles: Just quit reading my blog now, I don’t need your patronage!] We all know that originals are always better. I am talking about the Prom Nights, and the My Bloody Valentines, and, of course, the Friday the 13ths.

I mean, we clearly needed a reboot, right? We couldn’t just have another Jason movie tacked onto the back of an already whopping eleven sequels (including Freddy vs. Jason). And when exactly did Jason become clever?! He’s not supposed to set traps, he’s not supposed to take prisoners, and he’s sure as hell not supposed to have organized some sort of network of underground mines to stalk around with said prisoners. Jason’s a reactionary type of guy. He doesn’t like people in his space, and he doesn’t like them doing vice-y things. Really, I mean, the best way to make sure you die in a Friday the 13th movie is to have sex with someone else’s significant other while smoking a joint and drinking. All at the same time. With the windows open and shouts of ‘Stupendous breasts!’ echoing through the forest. If that doesn’t get his attention, I don’t know what will. That being said, of course, that’s not the only way you’re gonna die. I mean, basically if you get in this dude’s way… you’re toast. Which brings me to my largest grievance of the remake. Yeees, we know, Jason has a soft spot for his murderous, decapitated, mother who’s head he keeps in a little shrine with her sweater and a bunch of candles he materialized out of tree bark and leaves, that’s shown in Part II, which I consider canon here. But, I still can’t see him keeping some chick chained in an old mine just cause she bears a striking resemblance to Pamela Voorhees. I mean, sure, I was annoyed initially that he was running about the woods swinging his machete like it’s going out of style. Surely, Jason doesn’t run! He walks about menacingly and busts through doors without bothering to check to see if they are locked or not. But then I recalled that he does, in fact, run. In Part II he’s downright nibble! He also wasn’t quite Jason yet, but we’ll leave that. It was only later in that franchise that he became a bit lumbering, so we’ll let that slide. What I can’t let slide, besides the prisoner taking, is the cleverness. Jason is not clever. I don’t think he’s capable of being clever, his mental capacity is really just not that high, given the fact that, as stated above, he is mentally handicapped! That is why he was teased, that is why he ‘drowned’ in the first place while the camp counselors weren’t paying attention and thus propelling his mother into killing the new crop. He doesn’t exactly have a plan here, in fact, I think probably the only reason he kills is because mom did. Because it’s just the thing to do. They say we learn from observation, after all. He’s not supposed to set traps, he’s not supposed to have a plan!

All that clever stuff should be reserved for Michael Myers. And what was something I hated about the remake of Halloween too. Now, note, I did not hate the remake of Halloween. It was entertaining in the way that only slasher flicks can be. The problem was that Rob Zombie felt the need to tells us why Michael Myers was like that. I don’t need to know. I’d rather just sit back and relish in a character that was not originally meant to be understood while he stalks through town killing people, why is completely unimportant. I don’t need to know that his mom was a stripper… which, well, let’s face facts she clearly wasn’t in the original, or that he tortured small animals and kids on the way home from school. I don’t need nor want to know that he was a completely fucked up individual with obvious antisocial personality disorder and probably a few other psychoses thrown in and rather think of him as Dr. Loomis described; evil personified. Isn’t that just more entertaining? I mean, nothing seems to drive him really other than an unyeilding desire to kill his family members, something they toyed with to confusion in the remake. And even then, we don’t particularly know why. Nor should we care.

The problem with both these franchise reboots is simple, though it’s taken me this whole essayish thing to figure it out. In both franchises there is really only one character that holds the whole thing together, and that character is the killer. Victims and heroines and heroes come and go with these things, the only consistent is a silent stalker who knifes up the first person to get in their way. But they are our silent stalkers who knife up the first person to get in their way. We’ve watched them through countless movies and gotten to know all their nuances, for better or worse. And in the new films they just didn’t quite… well, seem like themselves.

I will probably weigh in on Nightmare on Elm Street when the remake comes out, but I will say this; If they were going to replace Robert Englund, Jackie Earle Haley was the only choice.

Costumes, Films, and Things That Go Bump in the Night.

It’s never a good thing when one, one in this case clearly being me, finds their life so intolerably boring that they can’t even think of anything to write about. But, sometimes nothing comes to mind. And then I end up going a week without a peep on my blog. A week spent sleeping erratically, getting caught up on bad TV, and generally bemoaning my achy back and annoying life.

BUT, never fear, it’s my favorite time of year! That… was not meant to rhyme. This is why I would never willingly choose to live anywhere like Florida or Southern California; I love seasons too much. The wet, both from rain and snow melting, Spring with it’s sort of rebirth feel, the summers that are both too hot and too short, even the horridness of Cleveland winter is worth it for fall. I, quite simply, love autumn. The change of colors, the vague constant smell of burning leaves, the dropping temperatures when it teeters on the brink of warm and cold and it becomes jacket weather. My best friend K said that it seems like the start of something, and she’s right. She’s also probably right about the fact that it comes from school. Spring is rebirth, but autumn is… renewal for me in a way that New Years could never really be. You can’t see me, but I am giving autumn a sort of swoony sighing expression.

And then, of course, there is Halloween, which is by far and away my favorite holiday. Most people say Christmas, and yes, Christmas is good. Christmas is warmth and friendliness even from strangers in a way that no other holiday can be. But, when the Halloween stuff rolled off the truck at The Job I got an excited sort of thrill that most certainly did not come when we started finding Christmas stuff in the mix.

There are a few things I love about Halloween, but dressing up is definitely one of those things. Everyone likes being someone else every once in awhile, but nobody likes it like me. Well… okay I am sure there are quite a few people who would disagree with the semantics of that statement but suffice it to say no one I know likes it like me. It’s the one time a year where it’s socially acceptable to wear ridiculous outfits. Not… that that really stops me in the rest of the year but social acceptance is still a nice thing. I’ve, also, never exactly been the type to subscribe to the sexy Halloween costume camp. I don’t really think that putting the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz in a skirt chopped off at the upper thigh is a good idea and am still confused by this:

(I mean… really??)

But then again, I don’t take Halloween as an excuse to wear nothing and call it a costume. K likes to use my fondness for the film Mean Girls as an excuse for her to watch reality TV. But, honestly, it’s seriously some accurate social commentary (it’s all just so true) there. And, the bit about Halloween is… pretty much spot on.

In the regular world, Halloween is when children dress up in costumes and beg for candy. In Girl World, Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it. The hard-core girls just wear lingerie and some form of animal ears.

Annnnd, it’s true. There’s only how big a crowd needs to be (Halloween at Ohio University comes to mind) before you get a gaggle of sorority-esque girls in pink tee shirts and bunny ears with their arms linked together as they giggle like fourth graders and sip on Bartles & Jaymes. If you want to purchase a woman’s pre-packaged Halloween costume and don’t particularly want to be a Tavern Wench (yeah that was my uncreative last year), you’re hard pressed to find one that doesn’t reveal more skin than Paris Hilton in August. Rebelling from this norm mean one of two things; either you made a visit to your local thrift store or else you got very acquainted with a needle and thread. Or, both. This year I am going as Budget Dinosaur. This involves a full sweatsuit with a tail sewn onto the bum. Oh, and a dinosaur nose. It seems to somehow fit with K and J’s Mega Shark and Giant Octopus, and it was pretty much the least sexy thing I could think of. Well, that and a cardboard box robot. Maybe next year.

The other thing is that it’s the time of year when it’s easiest to be scared shitless. Horror movies are released year round, of course, but not quite like they are in October. It only makes sense really, Hollywood has never been one to ignore a cash cow and once a year, at least, people become obsessed with being scared. There’s a certain, sort of, thrill from the heart pumping, adrenaline rush that comes along with fear. Of course, it’s been a long time since I’ve actually been afraid of a movie. The first scary movie I saw was Scream. I was fifteen, had no idea what to expect, and was petrified. Absolutely pants shitting terrified. I remember sleeping on my best friend’s bedroom floor that night with her snoring away, and me wide awake and unable to even close my eyes without seeing Drew Barrymore hanging from a tree with her intestines spilling down her front. All I wanted was for that image to just go out of my head and to stop being afraid. Now, I sort of wish I could get it back. Sometimes they have a lasting effect. Not often, mostly I leave laughing, but every once in awhile there’s little things that stick. Two instances come to mind:

1) I cut class to go to the movies and see The Ring when it came out. I kept reading things about it and didn’t feel like waiting. So, I jumped in my car, drove to Easton and saw this movie I’d heard so much about. I wasn’t scared. It was sufficiently atmospheric, clever. I didn’t really know much about Asian horror films in general at that point, had never seen Ringu and knew that it’d be something I’d be looking into in the future. But scared? Not really. Not until a weak later at least. I am not entirely sure how plumbing sounded like my television turning on, but in my half asleep haze… it did. I flew out of bed. Flew. And didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

2) Several years ago K and J and I went on our yearly sojourn to Virginia where her family has a cabin in the woods. We toted along a pile of scary movies to make the evening complete, but we knew that we wanted to toast some marshmallows on the campfire afterwards so we decided to watch the one movie we knew wouldn’t scare us in a million years, the remake of House of Wax. There is only one scary part in that movie; when the group of college kids camp out in a random field (whaaaaat?) and someone pulls up in a truck and just stares at them for awhile. It’s benign, but seriously… it would be scary. Yeah, it was. Just after the conversation we were outside when a car pulled up out of nowhere into our driveway. They were just warning us that they were hunting raccoons and not to be afraid of the gunshots… but we were probably MORE afraid of them just driving up.

But, in general; I’ve jumped, I’ve screamed, I’ve been completely grossed out, but that’s not really the same.

At least we have haunted houses for that. My first experience with one was the Hudson Haunted House, and at one point I found myself stuck in a corner as a man in a butcher’s apron and wielding a cleaver proceeded to swing at me repeatedly. I wouldn’t move and after far too long someone had to pull me away. It might have been my mother. As soom as I moved on I knew the guy was probably thinking ‘Okay, girl, hurry up and move so that I can stop doing this!’ but at the time I was completely paralyzed with fear. It was awesome. They can be horribly lame, but they’re sort of like horror films come to life; and those can be well lame too. But, even when bad they are still usually amusing. The same is pretty much true for Haunted Houses. People in very stupid masks can be scary, even when you know they are about to leap out at you.

It’s fun to be scared. Especially in October, and especially towards the end, and there’s a lot of stuff out there to help you along. But, really, if you want to seriously freak me out all you really have to do is stick me on a country road in the dark and let my imagination go free, cause really, that’s all any of those things can do… help along the imagination.

Perfect Slices of Absurdity.

I need a moment to appreciate Glee.

Now I can understand how this wouldn’t be someone’s thing. Musicals aren’t most people’s thing. And no, people in real life do not walk around and break into song randomly with perfect choreography; and not everyone knows the steps or the harmonies. They’re unrealistic, yes, but they are also fun. And really, how realistic is most theatre? The medium itself doesn’t exactly lend to realism. I mean, really… soliloquies, aphorism, even exposition are all just devices along the same line as a song. Just a way to let the audience know how the characters are feeling. And, there’s the extra bonus of having a catchy tune.  But, like I said, I can understand how they weren’t be everyone’s thing.

So I can understand how Glee wouldn’t be everyone’s thing. The fact that I think those people are likely joyless buffoons is another matter (just kidding! mostly…). But personally I think it’s one of the best things to come out of the television in a long time. It’s so unrealistic. It’s probably about as far from reality as one can get. I saw a Twitter comment saying something along the lines of ‘Hey Glee? I know it’s been 11 years since HS but cheerleaders don’t wear their uniforms 5 days a week’. I nearly died laughing, because seriously, out of all the absurd things to come out of that show they latched on to that? Glee is pretty much a perfect slice of the absurd.

Ryan Murphy, the creator of Glee, also created a show from when I was in high school. It too was a blend of implausibilities mixed up in a bowl of hilarious high school hi-jinks [ps. Alliteration is a literary device too!!] called Popular.

The show centered around two high schoolers, Brooke McQueen (Leslie Bibb), the popular blonde cheerleader trying to stay on top, and Sam McPherson (Carly Pope), the brunette ‘unpopular’ who writes for the school newspaper and hates the hypocrisy of the social hierarchy. There are two seemingly contradictory elements of Popular that made it what it was;

1) It’s incredible ridiculousness. First there is the basic plot: Two girls who hate each other for absolutely not reason other than the fact that it’s convenient to the plot and that they stand on opposite sides of the social spectrum are forced into each others lives by the convenient fact that their parents both go on a cruise, meet, fall in love, and get engaged within the course of a week. Second, let’s look at some of the names; Mary Cherry (who’s mother is named Cherry Cherry), Poppita Fresh, April Tuna, Exquisite Woo… Plots were twisted, characters played with, references to wholly obscure things.. In one episode the non-populars donned blonde wigs to prove that blondeness was the only real requirement for popularity. A bet was placed, brunette wigs purchased, and the non-populars probably would have won if Mary Cherry hadn’t bought the competition with her convenient millions. The prize? The losers had to get Mohawks, which they did.

2) Yet, despite all it’s madcap slapstickish comedy there was still something relate-able about Popular. There was a lot about getting pigeon-holed into categories. There was a lot about individualism. It said that anyone could be popular, but that popular is just a word that has very little meaning except to a group of people who have their own problems. And boy did they ever, in true high school dramedy fashion. Brooke struggles with bulimia, Mary Cherry struggles with parental acceptance, mean girl Nicole struggles with the fact that no one really likes her, and she knows it. Popular told us that everyone has issues, and it told us that in a pretty hilarious type of way.

Now, Popular was canceled abruptly after it’s second season on a cliffhanger, and that’s because Popular wasn’t that, well, popular. And I’ll be truthful, because of the reasons above, it was a really weird show. And it was geared towards high schoolers and aired on the WB. It’s not really all that surprising that it wouldn’t reach an audience that would truly appreciate it. But, I will never stop singing the praises of this show. It’s perfect confectionery absurdity, and it’s fun. What’s more, as the series progresses it only gets more ridiculous. Season three would have held many pleasures, I am sure, but it remains nothing but an outline in a random notebook of Ryan Murphy’s, I am sure. Still, I have both seasons on DVD, and I watch them all the time. In fact, I let my sister take them to camp once and pretty much had to pry them away at the end of the camp season (I am STILL missing one disc!!). I’m not saying everyone was sitting around watching Popular all summer, but I think they got some fair play.

Glee picks up where Popular left off. Not literally, of course, the setting is different (Lima, Ohio steps in for somewhere California), the characters are different, the premise is different. But Glee reeks of Popular‘s leftovers. Reformated and polished, but still. We still have the brunette loser, bye Sam McPherson hello Rachel Berry, who’s pretty much tortured by those around her [she repeatedly gets slushie in the face] but who is never swayed from understanding her own self worth, and the fact that she’s probably better than those throwing the slushie. She has a great voice at least. Lea Michele. Oh, Lea Michele I can not sing your praises high enough. I was lucky enough to see her as Wendla Bergmann on Broadway in Spring Awakening. I was impressed with her voice then, and I am even more impressed now. Rachel, like Sam, has a crush on the football player who really just wants to sing (seriously, that’s just recycled, in season one of Popular Josh gets the lead in the musical, his dad is not happy, same plot, still good), and is at odds with the blonde cheerleader who has problems of her own. Okay, so Sam never gets the guy and moves on quite spectacularly and Brooke never gets pregnant, but this is some classic high school stuff here.

There’s an obnoxious, androgynous, teacher. Diane Delano played Bobbi Glass, the student’s biology (and then chemistry) teacher who talked like a man, looked like a man, and… well pretty much acted like a man, while still being obviously female. Jane Lynch takes the part here in Glee, as Sue Sylvester the head of the Cheerios, who apparently get an absurd amount of the school’s budget. She’s rude, brash, sometimes downright mean, while making  jokes about her lack of ovaries that leave you wondering if she’s had some sort of surgical issue or if she just classifies herself so far away from female she rejects them. Sometimes I wonder, if the series goes long enough is Mercedes going to help Sue to a GLBT center?

They’re not the same. Not at all, but it’s hard to not notice a few not so subtle similarities between them. And that’s not a flaw because both these shows try to do the same thing; be life without being realistic, and no matter what you think of either of them you can not deny that they succeed in this. I’ll buy Glee on DVD and it will sit beside my copies of Popular seasons one and two and will probably be re-watched throughout my life, just to remind me that the world can be ridiculous, heartbreaking, absurd and just unabashed fun. Until then, I’ll make due with the soundtrack.

Sometimes Titles Are Just Vastly Overrated.

Someone, we shall call him (sigh) M, once said that my life was like a little storybook. I can’t seem to find the conversation in question but I do remember that my immediate response was a confused ‘But it’s so awful’. This was a sentiment I immediately regretted, for two reasons.

1) My life is not awful. There are aspects that are worse than others (ie. my job, my inability to understand maths, my somewhat crippling lack of self worth), but to categorize it as ‘awful’ sort of trivializes those who really do have it ‘awful’. Human trafficking victims come to mind.

And, 2) I understand it. I am always enthralled by the mundane; I see strange beauty in things that might not be considered beautiful at all, like crumbling builds on Carnegie and steel factories. But, mostly, I can’t say that I don’t understand the sentiment because I’ve felt the sentiment. There are a million and a half lives out there that are completely brilliant; interesting, exciting, happy, all those things. There are also equal amounts that are more than commonplace. The sort of day to day sadness inducing kind that result in mental breakdowns and/or sitting at home every night falling asleep in front of your television in your heated Stouffer’s dinner while your cat rubs against your leg demanding attention you’re too tired to give it. [Note: I am entirely convinced this is the sort of life most of the managers at work have, though to be fair some of them are falling asleep in their heated Stouffer’s dinners with husbands and/or children.] But those are extreme cases, most people will settle for… well, happy. Happy despite being busy and despite those around them who are more than migraine-inducing. And this, I imagine, is what he meant.

Sometimes (I wish I could say ‘I used to’ here but I’m afraid it’s a day to day thing) I imagine that the story of my life would read something like this:

Once upon a time there was a girl born in Cleveland, Ohio. She grew up, quite unremarkably, went to school and then got a job. Nothing very exciting ever happened to her.

It’s an accurate picture, yes, but it doesn’t take into account my actual… life. It doesn’t say anything about how my sister, K, and I used to explore the twelve foot space of trees in our backyard that we’d call the woods and build forts in. Or investigate the unreached corners of our cellar, attic, or crawl spaces. It doesn’t say about how gregarious we were about putting on our plays in the basement for an audience of our parents (sometimes we even rehearsed for days). There’s nothing about how entirely elaborate our games of Barbies would become, with plots and planning, dozens of characters and sets. How my sister and I would ride our bikes to school in the morning with a tape deck attached to my handlebars so we could listen to music as we went. How I used to tuck paperbacks into the pockets of my coat or read while walking. How as I got older I got a little bit more afraid of life, and how I didn’t want to stay in state for college because I knew it would be the first thing in my life that I settled for, and how desperately I never wanted to settle for anything. How I have been through so many styles and preoccupations with clothing and jewelry and accessories trying to find something that was right for me before realizing they all were, and probably will be. How I like my hair to look messy and it might be partly because a co-worker once said that Billie Piper always had the most perfect bed head. How I love horror movies and will see the ones that even look horrible just because it’s the genre, but rarely get scared. There’s nothing about how I’ll watch films and listen to the score and wonder if it’s been composed by Rachel Portman because every time my ears prick up it’s usually her.

Tiny things in people’s lives are what make them who they are; they are also the things that make the life worthwhile. It’s the stuff in between all the crap that’s the storybook. The day to day can become worth reading if the person telling the story is interesting enough. Not even just worth reading. The tiny stories of when this happened or that happened are everything, and you can sit in rapt attention while hearing about the entangling and elaborate plot to a video game, even though you have a distinct feeling that you should probably not care. And isn’t that enough? I know that it is. It’s enough to just be content in what you do, who you’re with, and how you feel. And that’s a sentiment that most certainly comes with age.

When I was little I wanted something exciting to happen to me. I wanted to discover that I was really some sort of princess or that I’d suddenly sprout fins and become a mermaid. Books and movies are designed that way, ordinary people discovering they are special. When you get older you want different things, and so the medium changes. You get epics. But I have never wanted an epic romance because they always have the same thing in common. Big love stories, the ones that people remember, are not happy. People die, people leave, and people give each other up for the greater good. I would rather just be happy. That’s enough of a feat.

For now I will continue being. Eating plums and walking around in my little shoes. I will wake up in five hours and forty one minutes and I will be tired and grumpy and angry at the world for making me do something I hate. But then it will end, and you know what? I’ll probably still be me.

Oh, the Places We’ll Go.

I find it a little bit weirdly interesting how little it takes to make me want to go places. I’m reading a book right now that is probably one of the most ethereally bizarre things I’ve ever read. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but out of the ghosts and the familial issues and loss and exploration the most overwhelming feeling I have is to fly to London and explore Highgate Cemetery. Observe:

I mean… come on, right? That’s pretty damn amazing.

I’ve been to London three times. And while there is only a certain amount of how well one is going to get to know a place while touristing around for a couple of weeks I feel like I have seen a good amount of the city. And yet, I am always finding new things I’d like to see. I am aware that I watch and read far too many things that take place in England but basically at this point I would like to explore the country so thoroughly that I don’t think my bank account would ever recover from the expense of it all.

I’ve been to Paris twice and never made it to the catacombs. Never seen the Bois de Boulogne or the Parc des Buttes Chaumont. Never even visited Edith Piaf or Jim Morrison at Pere Lachaise. I want to go to Giverny and Mont Saint-Michel.

I’ve never been itching to see Spain, but I want to go to Barcelona. I want to see buildings designed by Gaudi. Walk in the Park Güell, stand in front of the Sagrada Família in amazement and wonder if it will ever truly be finished.  I want to go to the Theatre-Museum Dali in Figueres and smile at the Mae West room and at all the little bits of Gala dropped into all the artist’s work.

I want to stand in the snow, wearing a parka I’d never actually wear and drinking hot cocoa while I watch the flickering Aurora Borealis.

Most recently I have become somewhat obsessed with going to Switzerland. I wrote a play once where the father of the two main characters goes to Geneva. Of course, at the time, I knew nothing about the city at the time, and it’s not like I’ve been there now, but I think it’s sort of an anomalous city, like the Philadelphia of Switzerland. It’s a very French city in a country primarily associated with Germanic ideals. And it’s pretty, with it’s gigantic lake and shooting fountain and Parisian looking buildings that are sort of beautifully soft around the edges. Zürich is the highest ranked city for quality of life. Probably because it’s taxes are enormously high as it’s also one of the most expensive cities in the world. It’s far more spiry, more German, more quaint.

And, similarly, Austria. Vienna, yes. Salzberg (Sound of Music!), yes. But, beyond that I want to go to Hallstatt. This completely random town in the middle of nowhere Austria that I just happened to have seen on Rick Steves. And it’s because it’s so random and so in the middle of nowhere that makes it’s so incredibly beautiful.

It’s a small place with a population of just one thousand people and you have to take a ferry from the train station. The whole thing is sort of packed onto the edge of the lake by the mountains crowding it from behind. Above it is the salt mine that used to be the European center for collecting salt, a whole period is called ‘the Hallstatt period’. It’s hardly surprising, I suppose, as it’s only about two hours from Salzberg. Okay… so none of this is anything that you couldn’t read on the Wikipedia link included under the picture, but I have nothing real to add, as I have not been there. Sigh, I am so put upon. Someday.

I lived in Mansfield, Ohio for one school year. It wasn’t something I was entirely looking forward to, more just a means to the Columbus campus, which was at least a decently sized city even if it is still in Ohio. I remember auditioning for schools (I had intended upon being a theatre major and had to audition for a space) and looking around to make sure that I wasn’t going to be languishing boredly in some small town with nothing to do. Mansfield was sort of like a last resort, I went there one time before I moved and I didn’t do much more than visit the tiny campus and drive around town a bit. I didn’t really care what it was like because I wasn’t going to like it and it only going to be ten months of my life.

For the first few months it wasn’t too great. I didn’t have a car, which proved problematic as there’s really no way to get around Mansfield without a car. Once I rode my bike to Meijer and carried groceries back in my basket. It took nearly an hour to get there and I could only fit orange juice, milk, bread, and eggs. I was shy so I didn’t have many friends, and I couldn’t get to the video store so I bought every movie I wanted to watch from amazon.com and had it delivered. But then I got a car and I drove all over the city, I drove to the surrounding towns, explored the country side, explored every nook and cranny. Residential areas, manufacturing areas, everything. And slowly I started to really sort of like living in Mansfield, OH.

When my best friend K and I took our trek across the country (Cleveland, to Memphis, to New Orleans, to Dallas, across Texas to Carlsbad Caverns in NM, to Las Vegas, to LA, to Santa Barbara, to Big Sur, to San Francisco, to Denver, to Mt. Rushmore, to Chicago, then back to Cleveland) we happened upon a town called Orla, Texas. I might be applicating the word ‘town’ a bit liberally here, actually. It was more like a crossroads with a couples buildings placed on it. Well, there were a couple of abandoned, crumbling buildings as well. The only reason it came to our attention at all was the fact that it happened to have a post office. Now what the hell it needed a post office for is beyond me, maybe for a couple of neighboring ranches or something… I suppose everyone needs a post office but it probably cost more to construct the building and move government employees in than they got throughout the year by selling postage. Actually, now that I think about it the post office might’ve been the entire town because when we went inside to buy stamps and mail our postcards back home we couldn’t help but notice a white board scrawled with ‘Population: 4’. The best we could figure was that it was written on the whiteboard just in case anyone went out of town.

It was dusty and I sort of expected a tumbleweed to go rolling by at any minute but I was glad to have seen Orla, TX.

There are too many places in the world. Too many countries and too much towns and cities and far too little time. I say a lot that I don’t plan on staying in Cleveland, and that’s true. But, I don’t want to move away from Cleveland for any sort of reason against the city itself, I like it here. The reason simply is this; I’ve already lived here.

I find myself driving back to Mansfield sometimes. Not in the past year, as it’s less convenient. I would go from Columbus, drive the hour and shop at places I used to shop, drive down streets I remember. Check out the apartment complex where I first lived on my own. I don’t forget any of it and what’s more I miss it, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to move forward and see other things.

There’s nothing wrong with being tethered to one place, I find that as I grow older I understand that better and better, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to see the rest of the world.

In Which LadyLinzi Gets Annoyed Over the State of Comic Strips and Discusses Social Awkwardness.

When exactly is it that comics, as in newspaper comics (also known as funny papers), became unfunny? And I’m not talking Family Circus unfunny, I mean in some cases downright depressing.

Take for example the never stellar but previously okay For Better or For Worse. Looking it up on the internet (cause let’s face it, that’s what I do), I found it’s a Canadian panel about a suburban Toronto family and that one of the remarkable things about it was that the characters aged in real time. As a child, I remember it being a sort of my-family’s-so-silly sort of funny. Maybe it’s my faulty memory making it slightly more amusing than it really was, but when I returned to reading the comics several years later the plotline was about somebody’s rape and the subsequent trial and emotional trauma. Not even remotely funny.

Funky Winkerbean is another example. I remember it being mostly revolving around a high school. I remember there were characters in the band, I remember a pizza place where characters slacked off, I remember the occasional laugh or so. This week when I opened the paper for some meaningless laughs it featured a middle aged couple walking around a fairground discussing which living facility to place an aging parent. There was actually a line that read “It’s sad to think she’s so young and already knows life will break her heart.”

Even Crankshaft, a spin-off from Winkerbean, about a crotchety old man has turned into some serious life commentary. Crankshaft’s antics used to be sort of funny, now it’s just about getting older and older and all the complications that come with that.

To which I say; really?? Are these supposed to be mindless escapism? Perhaps they take longer to read but I’ve always preferred to find my social commentary in books. Hell, even television does better than this shit. The comics are supposed to be the frothy section, the section I couldn’t wait to read every Sunday morning when I was a kid. I am unsure as to whether or not I want my ten year old sister reading about somebody’s rape.

Now, it wasn’t until writing this down that I realized what the problem is. Real time. Charlie Brown never got any older, and every once in while I still chuckle when Lucy jerks that football away from him. As soon as you get real time involved real life comes along with it, and there is nothing funny about that. Things like rape, and cancer, and people getting older and decrepit happen in real life, why do we need them in the so called funny papers?

I suppose I need to go to other places in order to find my comedy.

Sometimes I read the ‘Missed Connections’ in personals columns. Usually it’s to give myself a bit of a laugh at the skeevy people who write them looking for so and so who was wearing that sexy skirt at the mall that day (whoever that fountain jumper was at Easton mall a couple years ago definitely managed to turn a few heads). The misspellings and the incorrect grammar… they’re really hilarious. But sometimes I read them and I don’t chuckle. Sometimes I start thinking about the people who must be behind that, writing in a newpaper or website trying to find someone they genuinely liked and didn’t have the courage to talk to, and I just get sad.

I like shows about socially awkward people, probably because I’m sort of socially awkward myself. The sort of shows where everything goes wrong for the characters. Yeah, I know they aren’t real, but it’s nice to know there’s someone else out there who everything goes wrong for, and who are incapable (apparently) of making things work right for themselves.

I was watching Peep Show while thinking of this. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this program it’s about two utterly ridiculous guys, Mark and Jeremy, living together in a flat in South London. It’s pretty much an Odd Couple situation except neither of them, no matter what they think, can manage to function like normal human beings. Mark’s an uptight, suit clad, pessimistic, loan manager and Jeremy  is an arrogant slacker who doesn’t do much except loaf around all day and call himself a musician. There’s honestly not much to like about Jeremy as a person except that he’s played by Robert Webb and is hysterical. Mark, on the other hand, well… I have a soft spot for Mark. I might have a soft spot for David Mitchell in general, but he’s just so completely clueless and inept at his job, his women, and well… his life. What’s more; Mark is always so willing to accept the inevitable depressing outcome that will most likely come his way. Take this exchange from episode three of the brand new series, a conversation between Mark and a girl he’s interested in;

Dobby: “You don’t want to be happy, it makes you worried because you think it will end and then you’ll be more miserable.”

Mark: [Interior monologue] “Pop psychology, but pretty much on the money.”

I suppose it is it shouldn’t be surprising that I would find this sort of thing amusing, but, after enjoying Mark yelling at a hot water boiler for far too long in one episode I had to start examining this further.

Take for example another British sitcom, The IT Crowd. I have introduced this show to several people and haven’t had a miss yet. Probably because it’s just hilarious. It centers around two IT guys and their ‘relationship manager’ who work for a ‘leading industrial corporation’  called Reynholm Industries (seriously, http://www.reynholm.co.uk/). They are basically the lowest of the low, cordoned into the junk piled basement where they have many socially awkward escapades. And I mean socially awkward. For example; in a memorable episode in series three the two male characters attempt to have normal friendships with men by visiting a website that teaches them football (read: soccer) statistics and lingo. I’m sorry, they need a website to interact with other people. And oh how I wish that website existed (http://www.bluffball.co.uk/). Then there’s Jen, the relationship manager who acts as a bridge between the IT department and the rest of the company, basically because the IT department can not seem to speak to anyone else without causing calamity. Yet, just by being in the IT department her social skills seem to be declining. Of course, my social skills wouldn’t be too hot either if I was dating a man who looked like a magician. All three characters, with the careful application of The Mighty Boosh‘s Noel Fielding as the goth Richmond in some episodes, are ridiculous… which is obviously what makes the show, but really it’s Jen acting as comedic foil against Roy and Moss’s ineptitude. It seems like it’s always guys.

Take The Big Bang Theory for example. Here we have four physicists hanging out blissfully in their Pasadena apartment doing their typically geeky things like video games, arguing over which Sci-Fi series to watch, or playing Klingon Boggle. Enter Penny, the blonde waitress from across the hall with all the social skills. The point of the show, really, is what happens when you take some seriously ridiculous smart people and thrust them into the real world. Or, well, their version of the real world. And their version of the real world is sort of a lot like mine. They get take out, they watch videos, they go to all night marathons of Planet of the Apes, they go to the comic book store, bars, have occasional dates, but mostly they hang out together. Well, I can relate, even if when I am hanging out with friends I’m usually not trying to help fix a toilet for the International Space Station that my friend fucked up designing. And seriously… their jokes are funny. I mean, I know I’m a loser but I laugh, and not just at them. Okay, so I went to science camp when I was a kid, but I’m not exactly proficient in it now. When exactly did I start thinking science jokes were funny? Maybe it’s just because I’m so ultra clever and exceptionally well read (ps. I’m modest too). It’s probably just that I’ve spent far too many long hours on Wikipedia looking up base info on particle colliders.

Then there is Felicia Day’s The Guild, which revolves around a group who call themselves the Knights of Good playing a, World of Warcraftesque, Massive Multiplayer Online Roleplaying Game (or MMORPG have you). Day created the series as a way of showing the world that not everyone who plays MMORPGs are either high school losers or thirty year old men still living in their mother’s basement. Well, I really don’t play World of Warcraft but that doesn’t mean I can’t relate to the tendency to withdraw from the world and into the internet, at least a little bit. In the first season of webisodes the Guild emerge from behind their avatars and meet each other, helping each other through various ups and downs and basic crises, all while managing to keep up with their busy eight hour a day gaming schedule. This is one of the few examples of equal opportunity geekiness, and it may not be my brand of geekiness, but that doesn’t make it any less entertaining, or the social awkwardness less pronounced.

Now, why do I like these types of show? Well, that’s obvious. I’m socially awkward myself. I know I have said this before, but surprisingly a rather substantial amount of people don’t seem to believe me. It stems from one thing, shyness. And this is another thing that people tend not to believe. Well, yes, once I know you (or if I have had a few too many) I tend to talk the ear off you. I can be downright annoying in that respect, I am sure. But when I am confronted with a group of people I do not know, I am inundated with a crippling weight of panic, which generally results in me awkwardly standing in the corner wishing it was socially acceptable to pull out a book and read during a party. I generally opt for alcohol instead, it helps. This is also not helped by the fact that I can not dance. Seriously. Literally my body does not move. I am sometimes convinced my hips are locked in place via some sort of genetic malfunction. It’s not a good idea to expect me to dance without imbibing me with far too much alcohol to even remember the event in the morning. And in my defense, I have tried.

I also don’t like being places on my own. Take this example as a for instance. About a year ago my best friend and her husband invited me along to see some paintings up at a bar near us that were inspired by John Waters. I mean, I was obviously going, they are paintings inspired by John Waters. But the bar in question in located in between our two domiciles. I would be completely stupid for them to pick me up and arrive together, so we decided to do the normal thing and meet there. Well, said friend and her husband are always late. Always. And I am not even talking a couple minutes. I mean, I don’t even bother getting ready on time anymore cause they’re not arriving for ten to twenty minutes after they said they’d be there. I should have taken this into account. I also should have checked which bar it was. The way the Grog Shop and the B Side Liquor Lounge are set up is this; they are basically on top of each other and somewhat interchangeable. That being said they are by no means the same place. The B Side is the logical choice for a John Waters art exhibit, which is what I was thinking as I wrote down The Grog Shop on my perfectly color coded calender (I shouldn’t be quite so excited by that triple alliteration). I arrived, paid the admission at the Grog Shop and proceeded to wait for K and J for nearly twenty minutes alone in the bar getting more and more traumatized as the time went on. By the time I called them and discovered they were at the B Side waiting for me I might as well have been catatonic. They thought it was oh so hilarious.

Another example is this: About five years ago, give or take, my good friend D had a birthday party. I was living in Columbus at the time, going to school and working at a movie theatre which is where I met D in the first place. We were friendly but had never done anything outside of work until he invited me to his birthday party. Now, I knew that I had to go, that was unquestionable, but the anxiety I had working myself up about going to this party was just ridiculous. The night arrived, I picked my outfit, freaked out so much that I required six antidepressants, and stayed on the phone with K until I was actually inside the door. Okay, it’s not like I thought anyone was going to be mean to me or anything or kick me out of their party, but I only knew one person there and I didn’t think that he would have all that much time to hang out with me… birthday party and all. It didn’t help matters any when I walked through the door and the first thing anyone said to be was ‘Who are you?’ I almost ran back out. In the end everything was fine, I ended up making friends with a huge group of them and still consider them friends now. My anxiety was quickly averted with cosmopolitans, other substances, and the fact that D is, generally, a very good host. Still, no one should freak out so much about going to a party.

In conclusion? I’m ridiculous. I know I’m ridiculous but it doesn’t seem like that’s really going to change any time soon. I don’t know, maybe they should make a sitcom about me.