Another Band Idea

Okay, so covers of Decemberists songs in disco style, and we’d call ourselves the Discocemberists.

Oh, wait, they did that themselves with “The Perfect Crime.”

Sigh. I just wanted to say “Discocemberists” because their name lends itself so very well to puns.

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Sometimes I Am Not a Terrible Photographer

I think that this one turned out fairly nicely:
cemetery statue

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Multiple Choice

I had a physics “test” today. It was multiple choice and featured questions like “what is the bright thing in the sky that shines a light on the world?” The answer, of course, is my pants, in all their glory. My pants make the grass green and the sky blue. Hooray!

I bookended my test with visits to the Whole Music Club in the basement of Coffman, because they have cold press coffee and a supply of Radio K DJs, some of whom are jerks for not returning phone calls, but this time they actually played my request. I often feel like a dork for hanging out, but it’s a chance for me to dance and stand next to the “cool table.” Paul (not Armstrong, but the other Paul — and I don’t mean new Paul, whose name is actually Kamran, but rather, Paul Lindquist, who actually no longer sports the black rimmed emo glasses that classed him right alongside Zach, Dave, and myself in the “trendy glasses” camp — wait, doesn’t original Paul have some emo glasses without lenses? I think that he does, so, at one point there were two Pauls in the “hot glasses” camp, so, uh, where was I before this long aside that rambled all over the damn place?) hinted that maybe, just maybe, I should consider volunteering at Radio K, which, although technically the most appealing thing in the universe that I can do with my clothes on, is probably not in the cards because I am not volunteering for anything. I declared a moratorium in 2002 or 2003 so I could get my life together, and I don’t think that midway through college is quite the place for me to start “doing stuff” again.

I already shot five rolls of film for my project, but the prof said last night that I should abandon all hope — I mean — change my project from Minneapolis to self portraits. GREAT. Yes.

“You should be in every shot,” she suggested.

So, I could drag the tripod out again, set up the shot, click the shutter, run to place myself, rinse, repeat. Times two hundred. For all my recent vanity, I do not want to look at my damn self in photos!

I think that I missed my chance to swear in this post.

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Law and Order

I’m going to crawl into bed soon, but I wanted to mention that while looking at my photos from the 2005 Gallery thing in New York, Sarah and I figured out that she was living one block away from my hotel during that trip. I had to go dateless to the banquet that year when I could have been putting the moves on her! One block!

In other news, holy shit. After years of playing close to the vest, pretty much everything is out in the open with Sarah. This is completely uncharted territory for me, so of course I am absolutely terrified. It’s awfully hard to pace the relationship given where I’m at emotionally, but I’m not scared of hard — especially when it involves a pretty girl. Especially if she’s bright, funny, and driven. Slow. Slow slow slow.

Slow.

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My Beer and Pizza Diet

Sarah got home from some sort of “family” thing today, supposedly in honor of some kind of “holiday,” so I took her to Punch, where we had a delicious pizza that wasn’t thoroughly cut and some artichoke dip that was burned on the top. Nonetheless, it was a good Date. I’d go back, but I would send back the dip to be remade, and the pizza to be recut.

“Make this pizza more emo so it can cut itself.”

Rumor has it that we might watch the Tuesday set of Law and Orders together, and Saturday there might be some sort of double date with the Keathlys. I fear that I will miss the Doomtree Blowout (2), but so be it.

Oh yeah, this morning I stepped on the scale to find myself down a pound from my lowest in 2005. Beer and pizza is the answer, I tell you.

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Walking Down Hennepin, I Swear I Never Had a Gun

Paul and I got up at the crack of my ass to work on a photo project that I have been thinking of for a long time — photographing the length of Hennipen. I shot five rolls of film but no digital. I kind of missed having my digital camera — I might have shot more than the 180 pictures that I did if I would have had all the modern conveniences available to me — like color.

There weren’t enough people on the street to get into hassling people for street portraits, and I don’t think that I had been out long enough to build up the courage. I think that I should do it again on Lake Street, and maybe wander around Northeast and/or downtown. I dunno, my goal was to shoot Minneapolis like I have shot New York, but Minneapolis is just too spread out and oftentimes seems so clean and extruded — like we pour our buildings into molds and let them set over a couple of days before gluing windows onto the outside.

Nonetheless, I think this is still a good idea — especially if I could actually talk to some people.

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Oh My God What The Fuck Barbeque

I hope that you like forty six thousand pictures, ‘cause that’s what you’re gonna get on your motherfucking face is my forty six thousand motherfucking pictures like a motherfucker!!!@!@ LG AAFAhfasd;fhaW

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Stranger Than Bonar

I’m kind of torn between going to see Stranger Than Fiction at Wynnsong or Haley Bonar at the Varsity Theater. Decisions, decisions.

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Spoiled.

Today I convinced my mother that it would be a good idea to buy a cardigan for me. It’s very comfortable and makes me feel professorial. Thank you, Mom. This sweater will pretty much replace the black hoodie that I had been wearing with my black coat. I’m wearing it right now. Glorious.

I joked about not being able to afford my own shopping therapy, but it’s true.

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Coming Soon

If, by “soon,” I mean, uh, sometime in the future.

Starboy, Motherfuckers
Jesse Mullan’s Starboy Action Comix Presents:
Starboy
In: “Any Crash You Can Walk Away From.”

Hellz yes.

Plus I have like 5000 robots to draw, but that’s another story altogether.

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