damien rice - the blower's daughter

every once in a while, i discover a song that I just can't get enough of. I'll go through a phase of a week or two where i have to listen to it at least twice a day. then i may forget about it, only to rediscover it and continue the cycle in a couple of months. there have been tons of these songs before, and there will be tons more in the future that I have not yet heard. right now it's the blower's daughter. it's beautiful and romantic and sexy and heartbreaking and all of those things that a really well-written song can be.

my daily fortune, courtesy of excite.com:

you are what you eat.

then i, apparently, am a big fat piece of chocolate cake. but goddamn do i taste good.

lollapalooza's early lineup has been announced, and it includes the flaming lips, modest mouse, and morrissey. fucking morrissey. on the downside, i'll be forced to see my favorite bands play at the least intimate venue in the city along with thousands of other people. on the plus side, it's morrissey and modest mouse on the same stage. and i suppose since i've already seen all of those bands in intimate settings, i am just enjoying the opportunity to see them all again - on one stage.

(the over/under on how many costume changes morrissey will make during his one hour set is 3. I'm going with the over. And one of those outfits will be a pleather sailor suit. he is such a queen. i fucking love it.)

mcsweeney's got political. this is updated daily.

so since the paris trip ended up not happening, chris and i were itching to get the hell away from texas. we ended up getting a sweet hookup on a condo in the caymen islands from a friend who owns one and a hookup on airfare from our amazing neighbor. so it looks like in 2 weeks my pale ass will be laying on a beach with my toes in the sand double-fisting daiquiris.

i can't believe i forgot to mention that braid is getting back together for a 2004 tour. yes, i know it's only because they need the money. do i care? no, sir. if i get to see my favorite redhead, bob nanna, perform "forever got shorter," i will be one happy girl. it'll sure beat sniffing his guitar pick that I stole from a hey mercedes show. not that i did that or anything. really.

listen to rem's strange currencies. you know you haven't listened to it in years, and you know you love that song.

in our parking garage at work, the same guy is always sitting in the exit booth when i leave, and he always waves goodbye to me. he looks frighteningly similar to pedro martinez, so i now leave work every day with a super nerdy this-may-really-be-the-year-the-red-sox-win-it-all grin on my face.

this is probably the best thing to happen to gettin' it on since the release of "the joy of sex." 36 cds of depeche mode goodness. yum.