Sunday, February 25, 2007

Why Your Girlfriend Will Smile When You Give Her Syphilis.

It may be too late for this Valentine's Day, but maybe next year you can give your girlfriend syphilis (check-out the link).

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My life is simply a series of obsessions. I abandon one only to immediately pick up another. Some occur almost daily, like art (although I do rotate through different mediums). Others appear in my life randomly. Most of the time, the obsessions are benign. The only time when it becomes a problem is when one obsession accompanies a simultaneous obsession with ebay.

Right now I am completely infatuated with the rock poster art form. Tube after tube has arrived in the mail, each one filled with beautiful rock posters.

I'm starting to become more familiar with certain rock poster artists as well. Some of my newfound favorites include Diana Sudyka, Todd Slater, and Adam Turman.

However, my obsession may be costly in more ways than just financial. I've been scouring San Diego Country trying to find printing classes and thinking about attending art school.

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Speaking of obsessions... three songs that I can't stop listening to:

  • Eric Bachmann - So Long, Savannah
  • Mike Park - Supposed to Be There
  • Pete Yorn - For Us

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In November I found myself torn between two lovers.

Juliana and I went to see my other love, Regina Spektor, perform at Cane's. Here's a pic of Jules and I pre-concert. As you can see, I looked strikingly handsome.



Regina put on an amazing show. For one song she played the keyboard with one hand, using the other to rhythmically bang a drum stick against a bench -- both while singing off the beat. Regina is originally from Moscow, and started singing a song in her native language. Jules leaned over and enamored with Regina said, "I think I have a girl crush. I want to learn how to speak Russian." We both watched mesmerized and awed by Regina's talent.

One man in the audience expressed my thoughts when he exclaimed, "Regina, will you marry me?"

"That does seem to be the big sentiment this tour," Regina responded from the stage. "Let me tell you one thing: Because a girl sings a nice song doesn't make her a good wife."

Well said. Although I still want to marry her.

An intriguing highlight occurred during the finale. For the last song Regina played one of my favorites, Hotel Song. Half-way through the song she swung her arm wildly signaling the band to stop playing.

"Can we get the security guard over here?" she asked. "There's a girl about to pass out in the front row." Regina, being genuinely concerned, asked the girl if she was okay. After the girl received help, Regina wanted to continue the song where she had left off.

She looked over to the band and keyed them with the next line of the song.

"Let's start with 'A little bag of cocaine.'" After saying it, Regina giggled realizing how odd that sounded. It was endearing. And then they launched into the remainder of the song....

A little bag of cocaine
A little bag of cocaine
So who's the girl wearing my dress
I figured out her number
It's on a paper napkin
But I don't know her address

Wonderful, wonderful show. My favorite of 2006 (and I saw lots of damn good shows last year).

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When I first saw the Cold War Kids play live, it was at the Casbah in September. Their debut album hadn't been released yet so I was familiar with only two songs that had been promoted on KEXP's Song of the Day podcast. Although leading up to the concert I had probably listened to Hospital Beds three dozen times.

Their live show was dynamic, spectacular, and full of verve, and I found their songs to be immediate and engaging.

I believe that the order in which things are encountered is important. I believe that you filter your perception of the second through your experience with the first. It is the power of the first impression, and how it affects everything that follows.

For instance... if your best friend wrote poetry and after many years she handed you a poem to read... wouldn't your interpretation of the poem be affected by having known her? What if you read a frightening and morbid horror story from an author, and then later on you happened to meet the author in person? Wouldn't you wonder how that mind could create something so sinister? How could you not perceive that person to be slightly odd? But it's quite possible that the author is the nicest person alive. What if you had known the author first and then read the horror story?

Some people like to be familiar with an artist's music before seeing the artist live. But if given my druthers, I'd prefer to see a band live before hearing their recorded music. I enjoy bringing all of the live visuals to a song when I first listen to it on the ipod. For me, it adds an element that enriches the normal listening experience.

I've been listening to the Cold War Kids album relentlessly since its release, and saw them play live at the Belly Up in January. So I've gone from seeing them live and knowing a few songs, to listening to their album nonstop, to seeing them live after becoming very familiar with their album. I like the order that I've been introduced to their music.

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Juliana has moved in and has brought her violin along with her. I'm infatuated with the violin and cello, and always wished I could play these instruments.

Juliana busted out her violin today and I played it. I've never played violin before so as a guitar player I did the only thing I could on a violin: I played Smoke on the Water, poorly.
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My new guilty pleasure for television watching... Beach Patrol: San Diego on CourtTV.

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For some reason my sleep pattern has shifted the last week so that I wake up early. I discovered that there's this thing called a sunrise. It's kind of nice.

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