Touchdown

I had this very specific thing in my brain whereby I wanted to post an entry before the year ended from good old London.

Well, I'm here, I think this place is great, and I've got to run out and get some booze, but a happy new year to all those on and off the Internet, who do and do not read this blog, and even who I do and do not know. Even if you're an asshole, so long as perhaps you stop being an asshole on account of having a happy new year. I think that's meant to be capitalized as it is considered a proper noun, but what're you gonna do sometimes, right? Right.

See you (or at least type to you) in 2012.

Cheers.

Solsticed Game

If you live in a place that has seasons and all, chances are you see some rather dramatic shifts in daylight hours. There is something about all of this that led to things like daylight savings. Farmers were involved as well, or at least, supposedly, their best interests. At any rate, in the winter, the days get short and as this is the true start of winter, we're dealing with the winter solstice, which is the longest day...of darkness. But that's a good thing for the many who struggle with the lack of sunlight because every day will now be rockin' progressively more daylight. As much talk as there is about the weather, there is a lot of talk about how all people talk about is the weather. So whether you're talking about weather or whether you'd rather we weren't talking about the weather, you're going to have to weather some weathering discussions.

Oh me? I don't actually hate winter, just its length. Oh what's that, life is usually about compromise? Okay, cool. Wish I could say I'll never bring it up again, but that's just not true.

I was telling some jokes last night at a comedy venue in town and this particular venue has signed headshots of all of the comics that have performed there as, I presume, headliners. There are a lot of photos, and it is a great concept, especially because headshots are, to me, the great equalizer. There is no one who will not look like an asshat, no matter how good the headshot, and that is by virtue of them having a headshot in the first place. I mean, they're a necessity for comedy and acting and all, but they are inevitably embarrassing so, oh right, they have a term for it, the Catch-22. So to Heller with it...

Much more of my time than might be healthy is spent analyzing the commonly used phrases of the Internet, my friend group, the general populace that surrounds me, and so on. I overuse "the thing is..." I have been noticing it a lot of other places, but that's because I noticed I do it and so now am super conscious of the phrase itself. And "chill," I say chill a lot. Most people don't noticed these overuses as much or, at least, are not as bothered by them, but if you point them out, there's a good chance they might be. What I'm getting at is two phrases that must go: "natch, obvi/obvs." Sure, a lot of humor is derived in ironic usage of these words, mockery of those who used them unironically. But let me tell you, it is a fine line. I am thankful I have not heard "natch" uttered in real life, but seeing it in print, even internet print, in something like Forbes...cool I'm done. If anything it sounds to me like Americans trying to sound like cool Brits. Hey, I like British stuff, and I get to pretend to write if off by being British, but I was born and raised here, and I don't say "natch." I sure have typed it a lot though today.

In a quick holiday round-up, how is it that there are so many Christmas songs but the Jews really seem to have half-assed it for Chanukah? Maybe there's not a lot of money in holiday music...

For the purpose of printing text onto a color background I was trying to find out what font colors paired best with background colors. I pretty much googled that very thing and one of the top results was this gem of a site. Thanks Ted. I ended up just winging it.

Oh right, another quick bit about the holidays. Lost in the shuffle of Santa Claus is Santa's counterpoint, a creature that drags out the kids on the naughty list and in a somewhat grizzly turn, devours them. I'm talking about good old Krampus.

Happy holidays folks.

Potentially Embarrassing Moments

Ah yes, there are a great deal of these in life. Take, for instance, that seated in front of me in this coffee house is a guy I met once at some event, who then friended me on facebook, after which we even have facebook interaction (this is rare for me, in general, the interacting on facebook), and has, it appears, de-friended me. Of course, I can't remember his name, so I consider it not a big deal. But like, um, totally, for real, does he recognize me? Right. For me to be writing this paragraph is embarrassing.

The other much more potentially embarrassing moment is that I am reading through notations and editorial suggestions on a printed draft of a novel I have been working on for about two years (this statement alone is tough to stomach). On the back page is my photograph. No one really wants to get caught in such a moment, unless perhaps their name is Hank Moody. If you don't watch Californication I should note that, even that situation doesn't exactly work out tip-top for the man in question. So I'm sure to have a carefully placed hand over the photo. Ted Mosby had a run-in with this circumstance but let's face it, unless it's Bob Saget narrating as old man Ted, not a lot of people are lining up to be Ted Mosby.

What isn't embarrassing though, is the herding skills on display by these Scotsmen. Man, I think they are Scots. I am not rewatching the video with sound right now and I'd probably get accent identification wrong. Oh, the embarrassment...

Well, there were a few things I had thought about writing about but, as usual, I forgot them, so I am glad to once again be bringing up this fact. Today while running I was chewing gum. I can't remember the last time that happened but it really changes the run. In the beginning of my run I was all like, "What's different about this run today?" Then it hit me. Then, later, that gum hit the sidewalk when I attempted to be smooth and spit it in a trash bin on the sidewalk without breaking stride. Sorry couple I almost spit gum onto the path of. Some sort of karma might stick around. Took a while just to work up the gumption to attempt and then I botched it.

Well, see you at the party Richter.

Because Everything Comes from Something

For the past, oh, it must be two months now, I have been going through my iTunes library to discover and rediscover the myriad tracks therein. Through the course of that, one of the things I noted was the similarity between the piano in Ingrid Michaelson's "Corner of Your Heart" and Adele's "Someone Like You". Maybe it just arose independently, and maybe they don't sound as similar as I think, but my brain says they do. But with brains bombarded by so much information and noise these days, it can be hell determining from where it is all derived. Take right now. I am listening to a track—one I will make note of later—with ESPN on (as I wait to cue up my next episode of Gossip Girl) and, oh, right, here I am typing.

And speaking of Gossip Girl, it's just always scooping me on music, just the like the mothertruckin' OC back in the day. If I'm not outright discovering a song through the show, I seem to only be a week or two ahead. Not that it matters, but it's sort of frightening the way it's tuned into a specific brainwave to which I adhere. Is it any wonder I keep tuning into the show, even when it gets worse and worse? At the close of a recent episode I caught Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know", which was not even credited. And not long before that it was Lana Del Rey's "Video Games."

It's amazing that, with the sheer volume of music, video, journalism, blog posts, and so on being created and the sheer number of outlets for them that there are a specific and small number of them that reach the great masses. There is a name for this phenomenon I am certain, somebody or other's law.

And oh my god Gossip Girl is killing me with the never-ending back and forth of these relationships and everyone is in love with everyone but not sure if they're really in love and somehow everyone is super conniving and crafty even the characters most peripherally pulled in. I get the concept of them all being tainted by the toxicity of the life but how are they so crafty so quickly and okay, alright, it's fiction. And they just quoted Camus?

I read this nifty little piece in The Paris Review where a high schooler in the 60s asked a bunch of contemporary authors about symbolism. It's pretty much what a lot of teenagers struggle through in high school English and some of the responses are excellent (they only show a few, but I'd like to read them all).

Google has released a new ad, as of about two weeks ago for Google +. I found it...depressing...So it goes.

At any rate that seems enough sort of information and information of sorts at the moment.