Coachella.

The lineup is postponed and no one knows what the hell is going on.
But I would really, really like to go camping for three music-filled days in the desert of California.
Vacation of a lifetime? I'm thinking so.
I'm afraid I'm too old for Burning Man. I think that would've better suited me anytime from 18 through maybe 22. But now that I'm all geriatric and 25, I just wanna drink beer, hang out, listen to music, and write about it. That, in all honesty, is how I want to spend the rest of my life. That is my nirvana. So if you can add hanging out on a lawn and sunshine to that list, you've just exceeded my idea of heaven on Earth.

If I can't manage press passes, then we will meet in another, more financially optimistic year, Coachella.
In the meantime, I will get excited to the idea of you by perusing some person's super cool pictures from last year's Coachella festival.

I. want. in.

EDIT: Coachella lineup set to be announced at 7:20 am on KROQ. This race will be cutthroat, I just know it.

The One Where I Write About Fruit Phones, Primarily

I've done it.



I'm a Blackberry owner. Was it the most financially responsible choice I've made this year? Um... no. But managing my life was becoming increasingly problematic without access to real email-- attachments and all.
It had come down to a really intelligent phone or a laptop. So I made the more fiscally cognizant choice, even though choosing neither would've been the best choice of all.

Buyer's remorse is the story of my life.
I could've fed like, a whole African village for a month using what I just spent on that damn phone.
... I don't want to talk about it anymore. And if you see me on the street, do not hi-five me for my illogical purchase. I just needed it because I want to be a writer and I don't want to serve tables when I'm 76 and... and... agh.

I'll make it up to you, Africa. I promise.

I almost almost went for the Blackberry Bold, but there were more dollar signs in my eyes than there were in my wallet, so I needed to really reel it in.
I don't wanna be one of those assholes who has to make sure everyone sees her $2000 (I exaggerate) phone just to feel as if I'm getting something out of it. My status symbol will be that I enjoy making my life a little easier, not that I'm stupid enough to spend too much money on shit that I don't need.

In better news, I've fallen into a deep, dark, and wonderful pit of good music this week-- or maybe I'm just really open-minded right now.

I just wrote an almost complete update for the site in this general vicinity. That's no good. Read everything else I'd planned to blab about here instead.

Or (and?) just feel free to listen to one of my favorite (current) rock singers, Will Hoge:



... and pay close attention to 2:34. Because I feel the same. exact. way.

Perks.

My interview with Glasvegas was great. They are a really nice group of people-- so much so that they decided I was cool enough to attend the concert with a plus one, despite its sold out-edness and with complete disregard for fire safety ordinances. So, because of Glasvegas, I got to see Carl Barat play live. For free.


cornered, the boy kicked out at the world. the world kicked back a lot fuckin' harder.

Feel free to disagree, but this is a once in a lifetime-type experience for me. No matter what else I do in this life, I will have gotten to see Carl Barat play live in my home state because of Glasvegas.
That. is neat.

We spent a portion of the Glasvegas set standing next to Carl. Inside, I was a groupie who just wanted to be creepy and take pictures of him with my phone. Outside, I pretended to not notice by holding a conversation with a very cool photographer named Boone, who I still need to email.

Music journalism is the best thing I've ever done for myself.

Related: I am someone who loves to be busy. I love being too busy to be busy.
I only have time to talk about the time I don't have.
But this week has proven a bit overwhelming. To get things done, I have to travel-- but in traveling, I can't get anything done.
It's something I need to learn to juggle.

And! Dude. I saw Carl Barat play live.
I am crossing it off my List.
He's got kind of a see you in another life, brother/Desmond from Lost look about him, right? Maybe it's just the shirt. And the hair. And the face.

P.S. I really like Kelly Clarkson, but based on the rules I've set for the site, I can't write about her unless I have to. And I can't write about music that I don't like (-- which, I'm learning, means we have a lot less content than I'd like). That said, I can tell you here that Kelly Clarkson is better than her new song, "My Life Would Suck Without You". Way to not try, Clive Davis. We really do need more of that in the music industry...

Let's Get Vague.

I read something fantastic just now.
More or less, it talked about how things don't have to be dramatic to be great. Sometimes having fireworks in everything you do is more toxic than it is good.

If I can remember that and keep it in my back pocket for the rest of my life, things will improve exponentially in every way.
I won't be able to apply this to every situation that it should be applied to because I will get wrapped up in the fireworks and forget-- right up until I'm sad that I forgot this rule that I vowed to remember and am kicking myself for getting wrapped up in the fireworks. Again.

And such is life.

I'm tired of the rollercoaster.
Aren't you?

I'm going to Portland tomorrow to interview Glasvegas.
... Actually, no. I am going to Portland to see Andy for a few days. To lift the fog and to laugh. The Glasvegas interview was the catalyst, but it is not the reason.

I am leaving in 7 hours, and I have so much to do.
An intern would be fantastic.

They Come In Fours.

One. Though I never would really admit to the severity of it, I was totally one of those dog owners. In my cell phone pictures, I have a folder entitled "Sam." Because I am that kind of parent.


12.10.08

He is giving the camera the Crazy Eye.
He was vicious the worst guard dog ever. Don't let that picture fool you.

I didn't talk about him ad nauseum, but Samson was home. So I am still sad.


Two. On the second day of the new year, I was taking a walk and I saw got to be part of this:



Oregon is like that.
Just when you couldn't be more done and you think you've had all you can take, it hands you more beauty than you can handle.


Three. I can't write lately. I have too much to say and no one to say it to. So I am contemplating a trip to Andy on Sunday.
I like spending time with Evan and Andy. They make me laugh, and they're logical in a way that I can align myself with. When I have issues that need to be addressed, I like to make my way north and sit on their couch in my pajamas and vent. Or just watch tv with them.
... Both are equally as therapeutic.


Four. There are people who appear in the magazines and I don't know who they are. I've never seen anything they've done and their careers are over already. They're famous for maybe 10 minutes. Real careers, I think, take a long time to unfold. - Matt Damon.

I like Matt Damon. He wrote Good Will Hunting and that is a fantastic movie that lives close to my heart.


I could only aspire to write something so great.

So I have respect for Matt Damon as a writer. My greatest heroes are writers, so I hold that in high regard.
And though that quote is a pretty common sentiment, it came to me at just the right time. I would like to feel proud of whatever writing career I build for myself. I don't want to be rich by Thursday, and I don't want instant fame. But I do want to be able to be proud of what I've created, even if only for myself.
I'm cheesy and pretentious in that way.

I've been frustrated lately.
That quote helped.

Old Man Sam.

My dog just died.
He was my dog and I had him for almost ten years.

I'm sad about it.

The Birth Of A New Year, The Demise Of A Decade

Welcome to 2009. It's insane to think that the first decade of the second millennium is nearly over.

Once I disregard why today was lame, today was pretty fantastic. At midnight I was having fun in a roomful of strangers, vague acquaintances, and Friend. We got sloppy about screaming the countdown six seconds before The Ball dropped over NYC. It was a fun experience.
If I take the opportunity to do what we do on New Year's and reflect on times past, I realize that I haven't celebrated the new year in... maybe three years. My memory is hazy beyond that. But, yes. For at least the past few years, the New Year has rolled quietly over me like a wave of anti-excitement, and then I went to bed.

I don't mind it. I didn't cry myself to sleep any of those nights.
I have since made the transition that most of us make when we exit our crazy party days and choose a favorite pair of pajamas to make love to on a Friday night. There is a point when you realize that you are never missing as much fun as you think you are if you don't go out and party.
Fun times will be had, but they're usually pretty identical to the time before that. And the one before that. And then fun turns into repetition, and repetition turns into aching joints (25 is the new 56!), and aching joints turn into I'm-too-fucking-old-to-have-a-hangover-at-work-four-times-a-week.
No one wants to be That Guy. (Unless you are that guy. In which case, hi-five for maintaining the standard for the rest of us.)

But this year, it was fun. Because it wasn't a house party. We were all past our days of early-20s binge drinking and whatever goes along with that.
No one hooked up.
No fights broke out.
There was no girl drama.
No one got naked.
At midnight, we all gave one another hugs. Even the strangers. There was a bottle of Johnnie Walker Green on the table next to the Cuervo-- and I should point out that hardly anyone touched the Cuervo, which served as more of a death marker of days past than anyone's alcoholic beverage of choice.
It was a classy affair.

2007 was a pretty monumental year. It was a year of ideas. And travel.
2008 was a big one, too, because I got to put all of those ideas into action. And I still got to travel.
2009 is for building on all of that. And for seeing exactly what I'm capable of once I get out of my own way.
I really, truly cannot wait.

I'm breaking my previously quasi-pretentious resolution to not make resolutions (I thought they were just a clever procrastination device) and I'm making two (maybe three!) resolutions for 2009. I don't know what they are yet, but I want for them to be really good. I have some things in mind.

It's a new year and I'm happy about it. I feel like I'm at an alright place for being 25. I like being 25.
As it stands, the worst could get worse and the better is only getting better.