Brief Things

- There needs to be a moratorium on the use of "Hey Ya!" in commercials, promotions, awards shows, and anyplace outside of an exclusively musical context. It's a great song, please don't kill it.

- I love that the suggestion of the German police who found this guy was "You should probaby have a professional do that." American cops probably would have arrested him.

- Is anyone else surrounded by pregnant people? There's at least 6 people I can think of at work that are pregnant or have pregnant girlfriends/wives, two in my department alone. It's all a little bit weird.

All right, that was all.

Of Course

Traffic studies are never a good thing for Los Angeles, but the one I saw on Headline News this morning was particularly frustrating.

I go through the worst (405 at the 101) and 5th worst (405 at the 10) traffic bottlenecks in the entire country every morning on my way to work.

Bah.

?!

Okay hockey fans, the Washington Capitals have traded Peter Bondra to Ottawa.

Is this:

a) Unbelievably stupid, ruining what little goodwill the Caps still have in D.C. by trading one of their most popular players?

b) Unbelievably stupid, trading one of their best players for a questionable prospect and a draft pick?

c) A good idea, clearing cap room and getting rid of old, expensive players for rebuilding?

d) You care about hockey?

You can also come up with your own answers if you'd like.

Rave

I have gotten so addicted to 24 it's not even funny. I don't have time to blame all the people who recommended it to me, so for now I'll just blame Mark Greer and Laz, the two people who cheerleaded for it the most to me.

I hadn't actually watched before this season, but this season has completely absorbed me. And I think that's one thing I kind of like about it.

It's a bit of an all-or-nothing thing. You either watch the whole season and are entirely transfixed by it, or you don't watch a single episode (or are ridiculously confused if you try).

I won't go into details because a) it would take way too long and b) I don't want to ruin anything for people who taped tonight's episode, which was a doozy.

This year's plot has me going "Oh my god, they did NOT just do that!" in a good way at least once every two episodes. No other show on TV does that.

Now, after the above statements, unless you want to read all the TWOP recaps (or the far less entertaining but more straightforward Fox episode guide), now would probably not be a good time to start watching this season, since you'd be very, very confused.

But grab one of the other seasons on DVD from your friendly local house of movies. I think I'm going to one of these weekends, because I am now totally this show's bitch.

Holy Shit

I got to jam with Melissa Etheridge's band for about ten seconds today.

I should back up: I'm a huge Melissa Etheridge fan, have been since I was 12. I was so excited that she was just coming and I could even watch her sound check, I was giddy.

So I went down early to watch her band sound check, because the guys she plays with rock. I was just sitting around watching Kenny Aronoff whale on his drums and wondering how they could sustain such percussive force on a nightly basis.

They were doing some camera reherasals without Ms. Etheridge, so the stage manager asked me to step in since the lead guitarist, Phil, was going to stand in for Melissa, they needed someone to stand in for him.

Since I didn't have a guitar, I did what came naturally: I played air guitar while they were playing. I didn't want to just stand there like an idiot, and that was what came out. The guys in the band thought it was fucking hilarious.

So Phil, highly amused, offered me his guitar, telling me I rocked out on it. I told him not to offer it to me, 'cause I just might take him up on it. He handed the guitar to me.

So I put it on, and after a bit of confusion over who had volume control, turned it up a little. Mark, her bass player, was telling me the chord progression for the chorus to "Breathe" (since it's too new for me to have figured out), and I started playing.

All of a sudden, the band kicked in behind me. I was so stunned I immediately started fucking up, but I didn't even care. The whole thing lasted maybe fifteen seconds, a couple of lines of the chorus since that's all I knew.

Best fifteen seconds of my fucking life.

I quickly gave Phil his guitar back, thanked him and the rest of the guys profusely and giddily wandered offstage as they finished tuning up for the final soundcheck.

To be able to play with musicians of that caliber was a gift, and it was a fucking blast. And it made me realize how much joy music still brings me, despite my burnout from it right now.

I'm going to get off my ass and finish writing my album, and see what the hell I can do with it, see if I can make it something I'm actually happy with.

I've felt invincible all day. And I want to take that feeling and run like hell, because it's something that only comes along once in a great goddamn while.

For now, however, I've got to track down some contact information to thank Melissa's band. For them to let me do that was fucking incredible of them, and short of dropping to my kneeds à la Wayne's World, a heartfelt thanks is the best I can give 'em.

Belated Rant

Okay, I should have posted this two days ago, on Valentine's day. Sue me.

I'm tired of being single. I've been single for more than two years, and except for the occasional fumbled attempt at dating (never lasting more than one date), I've been basically alone.

There are advantages: I know if I had been involved with someone, I never would have moved out here and stumbled into the awesome job I have now.

I like that my apartment can look like a tornado hit it for weeks at a time without anyone bitching at me to clean it up. I do clean it every once in a while, but only when it really needs it.

It's nice being independent and all, but especially now that I've been able to go out more with people from work because I feel like an official member of the team, the lonliness when I come home is a lot more striking.

Two years is a long, long time to go without anything, but without having someone to come home to is really starting to get old.

It's not even sex that's the issue (although I certainly wouldn't complain if that particular dry streak were snapped), I miss just being able to sit with someone and do nothing, or read, or just watch TV with. It's companionship.

Part of what's exacerbating this is that I don't have roommates anymore. I'm glad I didn't live with most of the loons I met while trying to find a roommate. But am I glad I live alone? I'm not sure about that right now.

I realize I'm worrying about all this right now to cover other, larger worries, like what the hell I'm doing with my life and what I'm going to do this summer during hiatus, since I don't know if the show will be able to employ me then.

It wasn't a concern when I was desperately looking around for a job, either. It's like my problems are a big whack-a-mole game. Every time I get one back into the ground, another one just pops up, endlessly.

It's kind of a weird metaphor, but that's what it's been feeling like lately. Although it could be worse: I could get to the phase of the game where two moles at a time start popping up instead of one.

And if you've ever played whack-a-mole, you know it's really hard to keep up with that many moles at once.

So maybe it is better, in the end, that at this phase of weird hours and low pay of my life, I'm single. I may be tired of it, but I guess I'm just gonna have to live with it for a while.