Cats Playing Jazz

No, seriously.

CATS

PLAYING

MOTHERFUCKING

JAZZ

I am in love, love, LOVE with The Aristocats.

So much so that I can almost actually forgive Disney for ruining The Little Mermaid for ten-year-old Me with its fake happy ending. Because frankly Me didn't see what, exactly, was so terribly unhappy about the main character not only not getting the guy, but sacrificing her own happiness for the sake of his & dying because of it; & having her very selflessness allow her to enter heaven rather than becoming mere foam on the sea like her mer-brethren. It's Hans Christian Andersen, for fuck's sake.

I mean, compared to my all-time favorite Andersen tale The Travelling Companion's macabre S&M beatings & my second favorite tale The Red Shoes' gruesome body-part cost of avarice (not to mention The Little Freakin' Poor, Cold, Motherless & Oh Yeah, Dead Match Girl), the mermaid's demise is positively sunny!

But I became burdened with a gravity ill-suited to my years at an early age, which it then took me several subsequent years to learn to leaven with equal parts sparkles'n'sunshine.

And behold! Sparkles'n'sunshine made cartoon:


Aaaahhhh. On a less-than-stellar day of painful cornea sunburn, ten-percent-jacked-up apartment rent notice, & being so temporarily choked with bile that I spent several minutes really, really trying to think of a way to make the horn-playing men outside the French bakery cry, this fully restored my spirits. Now, I can't promise that you'll like it; but it hits every one of my cute-buttons.

Full-on HURRAH!

Hurraher! & Hurrahest!

Sorry. Life is good.

1) ABBA's Voulez-Vous is the perfect 73 degree Friday morning drive to work soundtrack. A-HA! I freakin' love ABBA. So very much. Their Swedish pop genius is a joy to behold. Behear? Eh. Why is there no sincere optimism in pop music anymore? Am I missing something? Tell me. Is there a contemporary equivalent to the sincere refrain of "I believe in angels/Something good in everything I see"?

2) I'm wearing sandals for the first time this year - & they're my lovely gold sparkly cork wedge sandals, to boot. Er, no pun intended.

(Lengthy parenthetical aside revealing my etymological dorkiness & alarming passion for punctuation:

("The boot in [the phrase 'to boot'] is pretty much the only surviving sense of a once prominent word. Some archaic or obsolete senses are 'advantage; profit; use' ('O spare they happy daies, and them apply/To better boot'--Spenser, Faerie Queen); 'something given in a sale or exchange to equalize the value of the exchange' (now only used in dialect, in America found chiefly in the south); and 'deliverance from evil or danger' (often in the phrase boot of bale 'relief from woe').

("The phrase ['to boot'] uses [the word 'boot'], in a sense like 'to the good; to advantage', and hence 'in addition; besides; moreover'. This particular boot is from Old English, and is related to better."

(The above explanation can be found in full, & with fewer parentheses/brackets, here.)

3) On Wednesday I made a decision which makes me molto contenta. I ain't tellin'. The action won't happen until 2011 anyway. Let's just say that I hope in three years the dollar/euro exchange rate is a bit more in my favor.

4) Said decision involved the more immediate decision to look for a part-time job. That same day, I found a listing for a part-time video store job, 12 - 14 hours a week, in NW Portland. I dropped my resume off that night, interviewed yesterday, & start working on Saturday. Yeah, I rock. Y'know, my favorite job ever was at a video store. This new one has the benefit of not being in rural Oregon, which gives me relative confidence that the following exchange is highly unlikely to occur:

Customer returning The Talented Mr. Ripley, which I had recommended to him the night before: I didn't like this movie.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry.
Him: It was about faggots.
Me: Well, yes, I suppose that's true.
Him: That's sick.
Me: Some people think so.
Him: You don't?
Me: No, I don't.
Him: Are you a dyke?

Yes indeedy. You can't make this stuff up, people. So...I'm going to get paid to talk about movies & clean & organize shelves stuffed with movies. It makes my movie-loving, compulsively clean & systematic self well-nigh giddy. Oh, yeah, plus I get free movies. I mean, I could probably get a better-paying part-time job. But the way I look at it, I already have one job for which I don't much care. If I'm gonna have a second job, I better damn well like it. And this is...perfect.

5) Also, this is entirely politically irresponsible of me, because I know absolutely nothing about his governorship, but goddamn. Whenever I remember that we live in a world where Arnold motherfuckin' Schwarzenegger is the GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA, things get just a little more...sparkly. I love it, I do, I confess. I don't think you could dream up something more deliciously absurd. Hee hee! Related: the commentary track for Conan the Barbarian is the single most fantastic commentary I've ever heard. Easily as good as the movie proper. (Governator: "She's so hot. I'm so hot in this scene" John Milius: "She's like a...Valkyrie." Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Surely they were both drunk. Schwarzenegger is a total chauvinist, which I inexplicably love.)

Hurrah!

These are some things that I particularly love today:

1) Peppermint tea

2) The Criterion transfer of Naked. It even looks good on my old TV set.

3) Dinosaur L (I said NO, thank yooouuuu....)

4) Mmmmmangoes!

5) Feelin' like a fourth grader. Yep, in my quest to prove that April Model 1978 is in fact completely obsolete, my newest fascination is book making. See, it occurred to me recently that at present I seem to be drawn toward the tactile. Rather than subvert these fascinations into something more ephemeral, I thought well why not just make things I can touch? I ain't a writer, & my drawing skillz are stuck in stick-figure land (tho' it be a mean stick figure indeed), but I see no reason whatsoever to let that stop me. I made a book last night! With velcro & wiggly eyes & o-rings & junk mail! (I successfully fought the urge to add glitter.) Here's a small detail of one page:


As usual, my grand plans exceed my technical capability by a wide margin. Sheesh. We'll see. You don't know how much I want to catch one of these flitting momentary obsessions & pin it down, already. How is it possible that the older I get, the less attention span I have?

6) Portland Maps. I often bemoan the fact that everybody in my neighborhood looks like me. What do I mean by this? While Buckman ain't quite an army of April clones, it is a 739-acre area with 7,923 people who:

• Are most likely between the ages of 22 & 39 (52%)
• Are whiter than an arctic glacier on a sunny day (81%)
• Have yet to breed &/or are not overly keen on cohabitation (52% one-person households)
• Got no strings to hold them down (84% are not home-owners)
• Stand a solid chance of being male (52%) or female (48%)
  

I am a 29-year-old child-free white girl who lives alone in a rented apartment. Thanks, Portland Maps, for proving me right!

7) Spring. Not this spring, this year, this here. But in general. And SUNSHINE. Glorious rich yellow sunshine that is both absorbed & reflected by the green of the trees & the grass.

8) Making the soundtrack for the wedding I will never have. See, it all started with Kid Creole's version of "If You Want to be Happy". If you don't know the song, click the link. You'll understand. The vision of playing this as the first song at my unwedding made me gigle giggle (no semiconductor, I) madly for endless minutes (the looks on people's faces would be freakin' priceless), so I thought, why stop there? This project is saving me from an increasingly bilious resentment toward other people's weddings; therefore, it makes me happy.

9) And actually, I kind of love everything. Probably in theory - I wouldn't test me with, say, a puddle of puppies or a basket of babies. But I am, how you say, a happy camper.

SPROING

Spring, spring, spring is sproinging, sproinging, sproinging. Hurrah!

The crocuses (croci(i)?) & the daffodils are beginning to bloom & the tulips can't be far behind! But the REAL sign, for me, that fantastic PNW light & open-toed shoe weather approacheth is the smell of it. I've said it before & so what? I'll say it again. And again:

When spring happens, my entire neighborhood for many blocks smells like flowers.

This makes me deliriously happy.

Happy Friday Dear April

Good things:

(1) First holiday weekend after the loooong post-President's Day dry spell.

(2) I've got one of them there jobs where the office closes at 2 p.m. the Friday before the holiday, which I used to think was stupid...until I lived it.

(3) Seattle-ites are invading my house this weekend. They will go roller skating with me.

(4) Aaaand...the icing on the cake: eBay just notified me that these beautiful creatures are for sale:


OMG!!!1!!11! Perfect. Considering I totally JUST DECIDED yesterday that my gray legwarmers would have nice pink stripes. Besides which I hardly need mention...PUMA ROLLER KITTY. However, there is the possibility that these may slip through my fingers. I'm not paying more than $175 for them. Bidding starts at $55 with six days left. I'm already on edge.

I Have Waited My Whole Life Minus 12 Years For This

"The [Food & Drug Administration] is expected to approve the first contraceptive pill that is designed to eliminate periods as long as a woman takes it."

Questionable sentence construction aside, all I can say is: Please. Yes. Thank you. What's the point of bleeding if you've no intention whatsoever of breeding?

Also: Hot Chip are coming round these parts again in June. Wonder Ballroom (still debating whether to go see Marianne Faithfull at same). Ticket prices have increased a bit, but have not yet reached the astronomical increases which Franz Ferdinand tickets did when their second album came out.

Also: Jarvis Cocker is in Seattle on Monday 30 April. I can't manage to go, which actually is all right with me, believe it or not, mostly since I never got around to listening to his solo album anyway, but it's a bit sad nonetheless. Somehow, knowing that he's only got 5 U.S. show dates (two of which are in NYC) makes it worse. Maybe I should have moved to Seattle...hmm...nah.

However, !!! on 2 May is definitely happening. I imagine I can make do with that.

A Place Both Wonderful & Strange

Finally, finally, at long last, yes that's right, Season 2 of "Twin Peaks" is being released on DVD. The moment we've all been waiting for ever since Season 1 came out lo! these many years ago (2001, to be exact). 3 April, baby! All the meticulous Googling over the years & I totally spaced it. Thanks to Gabe & Cristine for the heads-up.

I've read some grumbling regarding the packaging & extras, but the transfers are rumored to be excellent.

Also - one of the Amazon reviews alleges that a box set with the pilot, Season 1 & Season 2 will be released later this year. I hope so. It won't stop me from buying Season 2 now, since I've already got Season 1, but lordy if they release the pilot in a box set they'll probably also release it on its own & that would be fantastic.

The funny thing is, I always get confused & think there's a Season 3. I was pretty foggy the first (& to date, only) time I watched the entire series, but I think the thing that gets me all muddled & makes me want to divvy up Season 2 stems from the point where the show starts sucking. Hard. I think it's around the time they veer into that horrible James Hurley subplot, the part where he rides the motorcycle a lot. Probably he's crying while he does it. Sheesh. I never wanted to bitch slap a fictional character more than I did the simpering James. "Fiction's greatest dipwad", indeed.

Anyway: yay! Season 2!

EDIT: Ordered it via Amazon on 5 April 2007. Having just re-watched the first season in honor of this release, I'm mighty excited.

EDIT 2: OMG! It will be here tomorrow just arrived, 9 April, a day early! I've crossed from mighty to ridiculously excited.

EDIT 3: Ummm...transfers are NOT excellent. I've never had any problems with my television set, either sound- or image-wise. Now suddenly, the music is drowning out dialogue & the lipstick of both Lucy & Donna glows a hideous orange. The first season looked & sounded nothing like this. Also: Episode 18 is where it starts sucking. Is it mere coincidence that the episode opens with a shot of James riding his motorcycle? I think not.

SuperPop? Super Disco? Supercool.

Los Amigos Invisibles make some of the funnest spacedancepop ever. I am still quite sore that I somehow managed to miss their performance in Charlottesville. And that was like four years ago. But now, finally, thanks to the magic that is the cross-country move, I will once again have the opportunity to see them, on their (nearly exclusively West Coast, sorry) tour. Full list of cities here. And the Aladdin Theater is only 2 miles away from me, hurrah! (I also suspect I will be rubbing it hard at the Badly Drawn Boy show at the same venue on 25 March.)

I'm kind of ridiculously pumped for this. I'm of a like mind about their (apparently Grammy-nominated) last album, SuperPop Venezuela, which was released mid-September 2006. Given that at that time I was having trailer hitches installed, packing, cleaning/emptying house, trying to finish up work stuff & generally experiencing levels of stress previously unknown to me, it's little wonder its release went unnoticed by me; but fear not! First thing Monday evening I'm gonna pop over to Music Millennium on Burnside & buy this puppy like it's on fire. Really, how could it not be? The Amigos cover their favorite Venezuelan pop songs on this album, with production by my revered discohouse god Dimitri from Paris. I refuse to even entertain the notion that this could possibly be anything less than fabulous.

And, egads! Somehow I missed another certain-to-be-fantastic thing - Dimitri from Paris & DJ Muro's Super Disco Friends, which was released in April 2006, thereby providing me no excuse whatsoever for not already having it. All right, there's two CDs I'll be buying come payday.

Frankly, this is all way more super than any ol' bowl could ever dream of being.

2007 IST ENDLICH GEKOMMEN!!!

The Space Needle proved to mirror my feelings precisely. Hurrah! I've never been happier to bid adieu to a year.

Also, I think this would be the perfect calendar with which to mark off the days of my 2007 life. It amuses me entirely too much.

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!

BEAUTIFUL Soup, so rich & green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two
Pennyworth only of Beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of Beautiful Soup?

Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti-FUL SOUP!

Lewis Carroll may or may not have been a Victorian pervert, but DAMN was he spot-on about soup. SOUP is the best, most wonderful part of winter! Ice-scraping, breath-seeing, shiver-inducing, scarf-producing, soup-ingestingly fabulous winter. Sweaters & bare feet on cold linoleum are simply sacrifices made for the good of soup. (Chili is good too. Mmm. Nice & spicy.)

Also, the second most wonderful part of the season-of-'tis-the-season is hot tea. Choice Organic Green Moroccan Mint is currently favored within the walls of my abode.

[To Be Sing-Songed]

Shortest day of the year; they only get longer from here!

[Yay!]