the blank white box is
again my eternal bane.
not a surprise, though.
by krisis
A quick check of the pro page reveals that my two lowest volume posting months are February 2001 and last month.
Incidentally, those are the only two times in my life during which i had a girlfriend continuously for the duration of a month.
What this says about the mutable nature of my free time, my true relationship with personal publishing, or how much i like girls is for you to decide.
I did not get an Easter basket this year because i did not get Easter this year, and so i do not get to complain. Still, it somehow feels like that interminable bunny took a long hop over my life while he was on his route. Lindsay didn’t even go home, and yet she returned on Sunday evening with a basket chock full of fake grass and foil wrapped chocolate.
I ate all of her Smidgens; really, it couldn’t be helped. I was told to eat them, but not told from which basket i should take them, and since everyone has a basket with Smidgens you could hardly expect that i would’ve known that i had devoured all of the peanut-buttery bunnies in Lindsay’s basket which, truth be told, i’m highly skeptical of in the first place. After all, how the hell did the rabbit know where to find her?
On our way to work this afternoon Lindsay shoved a fistful of shiny chocolate eggs into the side pocket of her new Gap bag, leaving a spare few littering the crinkly grass in her basket. It was those few i found myself eyeing a few minutes ago. We have a bag of seasonally wrapped Hershey’s Kisses, but i didn’t want those; i wanted the last vestiges of chocolate to be found in that pastel wicker basket, those gleaming pieces buried under strands of what is, for all intents and purposes, Easter tinsel. Yes, tinsel. Let’s not kid ourselves.
Looking back upon my encounter with the basket, i couldn’t tell you why i craved those room temperature eggs rather than the firm kisses i could have eaten. All i know is that now there’s only a few lemon jellybeans and a lonely misplaced kiss left in that pile of matte green tinsel, and they’re all safe from my appetite. For now.
Garrison Starr just released From Takeoff to Landing, a second full-length LP to accompany her three EPs. This is not only cool because Garrison Starr rocks my world, or because i wore her t-shirt today and then magically found a press copy of her record for sale, but because now you can witness the incredible transformation of one of my favourite songs. For a taste, take a listen to the solo Five Minutes from her EP and then take a listen to the band version at Amazon or on her label’s site. To me it sounds as though the band version uses the same two-track guitar/vocal recording from the solo version — very cool, plus it’s a neat tag onto the “Who would Peter sound like if he had a band” comment chain from last week. Why don’t you listen to a trio or two and then register your opinion?
Yummers! — Pandora’s Boxers graduated from Geocities! Rock. Also: Roger Ebert chimes in on something i mentioned last week (via Fury), a muchly appreciated April Fools link via Firda, and Tom nearly gives me a heart attack. I mean, geeze, bloggers take this more seriously than they take Easter.