Do you want your heart ripped out by a song?

Then listen to this. It's been haunting me.

I Love You, But Goodbye - Langhorne Slim

Christmas blows jingle balls.

An Oklahoma Christmas

Why is the most wonderful time of year the least? As I've mentioned, the season puts me in a severely foul mood, which can only be remedied by online shopping and the promise of days off from work. It was a rather dull holiday, which is all the more depressing, since I'm obviously a heartless robot incapable of feeling any joy.

1. A few weeks ago, one of my g-pas offered me a rather new 42" TV as he and g-ma had replaced their set recently for a new HD model. Sign me up! The fam crammed our overfed asses into my mom's Matrix to ensure we had trunk (hatch) space to accomodate the TV, which we intended to pick up on our annual pilgrimage to a place that might even be worse the Worcestor, MA, Woodward, OK. Upon arrival, I was greeted by said g-pa, who led me to a closet with an old, decrepit, maybe 25" set encased in what appeared to be fake wood panelling. I accepted it graciously and tossed it in the cavernous trunk of the car. I noticed that they had clearly reallocated the TV in question to the playroom where my little cousins had set up Christmas camp. Bah.

2. Part two of the same trip, with the same g-parents (it's confusing because my parents share the same hometown, which means two birds, one stone when it comes to holidays), all hell breaks loose because of a four year old girl. The grandparents have a spacious house clearly built with the intention of holding extended family over holidays. However, there's simply not enough room for all of the family members who arrive from all over the southern US. This year, the assortment included my step grandmother's daughter, husband, and four year old daughter (oh yeah, I forgot to mention she's the step 'ma - it's been over 20 years, so sometimes I forget, but it's important). Christmas Eve, four year old girl gets a room, the parents get a room, and my uncle (not step) gets a room. Christmas day, uncle is informed that he will be sleeping on the couch because step g-ma's number one son is arriving with his wife. So, now we have four year old girl in one room, parents in one room, newly arriving couple in one room, 48 year old uncle with bad back on couch in living room. Uncle says oh hell no. They think he is kidding because what sensible adult doesn't understand that a small child needs their very own queen size bed? I mean, really. He's not. He's driven in from Houston (not a quick jaunt, you see) and decides to hightail it back to Norman for a real bed at my house. Ok. Makes sense. We're heading out (after Christmas number three at the OTHER grandparents house complete with assorted cousins, aunts and uncles), and are about 45 miles outside of Woodward, when uncle's beamer starts spewing smoke. After leaving him on the highway and a trip to the Seiling, OK gas station that is thankfully open on Christmas Day night at about 11pm, we determine that he's got a cracked radiator. Guess where he's headed. Oh snap.

3. Ex-boyfriend sightings. Boo. It's still so strange to me that a) he's never responded to what I thought was a clever b-day card that said, hey, we're over all the weird crap, let's put it behind us and laugh, and b) that someone whom I shared almost everyday with for seven years is wandering the streets of my town with no inclination at all to inquire about how I am, what I am, all that stuff. Baffling. Current boyfriend drama. NSFB. (Not safe for blogs.) We'll see!

4. Recession is the new economy. I usually rely on making bank at Christmas to get me through the winter or allow me to buy something much needed (washer and dryer!!!), but it was a super stingy Christmas this year, understandably. So, I apologize for wearing either the same smelly thing over and over again, or for showing up ridiculousy under or overdressed because I'm down to the formal or loungewear portion of the ol' wordrobe.

My life without a washer and dryer. Sad, isn't it?

5. NYE! Go fuck yourself. I give up on this. $10 says you can find me with a bottle of scotch and a self imposed SATC marathon on my shitty, not 42" TV.

6. Happy holidays. More later.

It's Veterans Day!

And you know what that means. Actually, you don't. Because today is the 2X anniversary of the exbf's expulsion from his momsters uterus. He's managed to wish me a happy birthday via text or email over the last two years, so I've determined it's time to take it up a notch, now that my heart has gone from robot to slightly less robot status. Here's what I'm thinking:

Fine. I will just send an email.

I'm so peternal, it hurts.

So, I think that instead of lady ovaries, I have lady dog ovaries. Seriously, I cannot watch that Sarah Mclaighskdjan ASPCA commercial without sobbing (I'm not kidding - do not look directly into their eyes!). I have to be dragged away from the open box full of wriggling puppies at the farmer's market. When I am sad and lonely, I log onto petfinder.com and get sadder and lonlier because none of those pups will be mine. It's not like I don't have (or have had) a dog. Claire is kickass in her own way, but belongs more to my parents now than me. There was also Zealand, who was tragically lost to BreakUp06. And yeah, this is probably not the best time to have a dog. I work 60 hours a week. My relationship is only a year old and probably isn't dogproof yet. My landlord kind of said no dogs in the lease. That said, I want a puppy, damnit! Clearly, I've forgotten all of the literal shit that goes along with raising a dog and what little assholes they can be. I've lost countless shoes and undergarments, but I still want one. Bad. So bad my heart hurts. Ouch.

I

Love

You,

Puppies!

The one where no one cares about my blog.

Man, if only I'd kept the genius coming instead of succumbing to the man.

This could've been me!

Hey Clinton, blogbuddy of ZFS, did that ramen come from Chinatown? Zing! Oh, no? Not a zing!? Ok.

Or this!

Lost Ogles, I met you at the NMF and you snubbed me. Then no mention in your 15 minutes of Oklahoma metro fame (which is equal to -25.8 seconds of national fame)? Ok, fair enough.

But, instead, it's just this:

In which this blog is not unlike the Sooners: A post in three or some number of parts.

Act I: The season started out so promising. We had a little bit of trouble with a little bit of Colorado. But then, good news! Everyone started sucking balls! Now, including us. WTF, man. Sam! Halzle! Jesus Christ on a stick. Or whatever. I can't even talk about it. Really, I can't. Except, WTF are we paying you for, Stoops? To lose to effing Texas Tech? I don't think so. Kansas, ok, maybe because, ostensibly, they are as good as we are. Tech?!?@$*(@ You might have led us to a championship, but you've also presided over some of our worst losses. Nut up, dude. De-red shirt someone. Ask someone from the crowd to be the quarterback - like the guy who throws it through the target to win $1000 from Jason White's dealership. I can't wait to lose to OSU this week. If you don't hear from me by Wednesday of next week... A malaise fell over Norman Saturday night that not even $2.50 Shiners could and L's dad's Grateful Dead (The Jamminators!) cover band could cure. Oh, how the mighty will fall. Like this blog. One minute I'm nominted for an Oklahoma Blogger award™, the next, Sitemeter reveals that only five people read. And by people I mean Google searches for "Zach Braff's tight pants."

Part II: I can't believe I forgot to mention this! Last weekend, I left my neighborhood at about 7 to grab coffee at Starfucks before Shain and I headed of to judge a high school debate tourney (suck it). I should mention, it was exceptionally foggy this morning. Like, can't see anything. I approach the intersection where I need to make a right. I have a green light. As I'm gently nudging the gas, suddenly, this bike flies across through the intersection causing me to slam on my brakes (I wasn't going that fast, but still) and I come eye to eye with - guess! Wait for it, the exbf's mom! I almost ran her over! Ha! I mean, oops.

C) I have a habit of singing in the bathroom at work because, well, the acoustics are fucking fantastic in there. The lighting makes me look like old school Courtney Love, but the tiles make me sound like Kelly Clarkson. I wasn't really aware that my voice carried beyond the bathroom till I walked out and was greeted by a coworker who suggested, humorously, I choose to believe, that I save it for karaoke night. I'll show you karaoke.

4: Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday! - This is my latest commute mix.

Oh My God - Mark Ronson and Lily Allen: Oh my God I can't believe I like this song.
A Baby For Pree - Neutral Milk Hotel: What does it even mean?
The Anglo-Saxons - The Mountain Goats: Remember that cartoon show about history? I can't remember the name, but it was pretty much awesome.
I'd Love You - Sonya Kitchell: I would.
Superstar - Lupe Fiasco: I am.
Scattered Leaves - The Be Good Tanyas: This chick sounds like Shakira. But I like it anyway.
Mornington Crescent - Belle & Sebastian: This one's for you, Shain. Thanks for abandoning me. No, really.
The Temptation of Adam - Josh Ritter: Seriously! Why am I just getting into this guy now?
Blue Eleanor - Old Canes: I dunno. Just like it.
Needles in My Eyes - Beta Band: Puts me in a happy trance.
Oh Lately It's So Quiet - Ok Go: These guys are more than just a treadmill dance troupe.
Arcade Precinct - 1990s: What? Yeah, it's kind of awful.
Mansard Root - Vampire Weekend: Surprise! I'm in love with this! And they're coming to Norman!
Hold On - KT Tunstall: Yes. This has been or will be used in a comical montage featuring McDreamy, George, Izzie, and/or Addison. Blow me.

Section 5.1.3: The WGA and corporate TV America have got us by the balls. And we are letting them. Did you know that The Office is probably over for the season? The last new episode aired last week. Scrubs might not finish the series (Will JD and Elliot end up together? Will we ever meet Kelso's Edith? I just have to know!). And so on and so on with shows from Comedy Central to the CW. And we are letting them. So, I propose a strike against TV in general. Fuck them! We can read! Knit! Ride bikes! Smoke weed and look at fish tanks! Poetry readings! Concerts! Shows! Blogs! TV? We don't need no stinkin' TV. I'm totally serious. Until The Real Housewives of Orange Cunty are on. I love that show.

Act VI: Happy Birthday Mom! You said you don't read, but I know you do. I'm glad you were born so you could bear me.

PMS: Part II

I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of a little bit rere (I think Julie Gong's working to trademark this term, ask permission before using) at 114% of anything and everything I endeavor to do. Lately, I've put my mind to taking an ungodly amount of time to decide whether or not I'm in a relationship and whether or not this is a good thing. Good news! I am and it is! (You know, for now, until I fuck it up or he notices that I live at home or something.) In the meantime, I guess I've fallen into that age old trap of all your friends are belong to hating you. No one calls anymore because they think I'm busy (gettin' busy - zing!). Then they get mad if I don't call even though they didn't call in the first place leading me to believe they don't like me. Well, guess what, kids. I don't need any of you. I've got a new MySpace friend. We're gonna be eternal BFFs, like forever.

Goulet Wednesday News Round Up: If Ever I Would Leave You Edition.

RIP, buddy.

Dear friends,

It is with a heavy heart (and a heavier ass) that I regret to inform you that the patron saint of this blog, Robert Goulet, passed away in LA while awaiting a lung transplant. Bee-Spot reader John called me last night to break the news. It was a tough phone call that drove me into a despair that could only be cured by eating more barbeque than I should've, but that's really neither here nor there. What's important is the legacy that Mr. Goulet has left behind. If and when I find out what that is, I probably won't let you know. It might be his turn as Lancelot in the classic musical Camelot or his brilliant work in Naked Gun 2 1/2: The Smell of I wish Leslie Nielson Were My Grandpa. In the meantime...

Nature! - This is probably, literally the eighth time I've posted this. And it never gets old. And there's this one too.

It's Saturday, I'm in Love

because Friday did that thing where someone goes, 'hey, what's on your shoes' and then punches you in the face or something. First of all, I was out of oatmeal. Bad news bears. Secondly, I'd finished the last of my Diet Coke Plus 12 pack Thursday, third(ly) my lovely work studies bailed on me leaving early for Fall Break, which left me to do my job all alone with no lunch. WTF? I left for lunch at 4.30. That's when my mom called and told me I'd be meeting her for dinner at exactly 5, because she'd had a horrible day, needed a drink and needed someone to drive her home. Great. Although I enjoyed my expensive margarita (never frozen, never made from a mix, that's just wrong), my buzz was punctuated with poignant old family chestnuts like "you never support me," "why are you never on my side," and "you don't love me because you never support me and are never on my side" when Mom was describing the trials and tribulations that come with being a professional tween wrangler. I feel for her, I do, but I try to help when I guess what she really wants is for me to shut up, nod and order another round. Lesson learned. The point of this is that Friday sucked. I'm trying again today, although today has HUGE potential suck factor because today is THE OU/TEXAS GAME!!!!!

Oh yes. The game so big and ugly it can't be played in the hometown of either team. Also, it's the biggest rivalry and game of the conference, I would argue, so sure, Oklahoma, let Texas gain all the profit of your hard work. Dallas needs more money, Lord knows. Anyway, I have a bad feeling about this. You will all hate me, but I think getting our nuts ripped off by Colorado will have not an invigorating effect, but rather, I think it's a slippery slope to OSU land from here (although, OSU is playing A&M for the Big 12 South title today because we're retarded and lost). Anyway, I have a bad feeling. Or maybe it's just about the traffic. You see, in my infinite wisdom, I have decided to drive to Dallas, not for the game per se (because I think it would be heartbreaking, also, I don't have $1500 for a ticket and my cast iron liver is more porcelain these days) but because Rilo Kiley's playing. Yay! You may hate on Under The Blacklight, but I'm into it. Also, I have a mad crush on Jenny, just like everyone else. I'm on my way soon, but probably only to spend six maddening hours in traffic, and miss the beginning of the game, because I am smart like that. So, friends, since I don't ask much of you, please please please do whatever you do to make sure your team wins, but replace your team with OU. K? Thx.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with the anniversary of this blog (but seriously, only because no one else is and I have to, it's contractual). SPOILER ALERT: this has the potential to turn into a sapfest. Either get out now or, yeah, just click the little x. But before you do, as this is my blog, I can use it for evil as well as good. In the words of Bobby Brown, it's my prerogative.

Last year was an extraordinarily bad year. I mean, mega shitteous. Coupla things: 1. tragically dumped by high school boyfriend of seven years/love of life (so I thought), 2. beloved dog Zealand stolen (and, unless you've raised a dog from a puppy, it's really hard to describe just how absolutely heartbreaking this was) as a result of my dumping, 3. sold myself out of gainful employment (long story), 4. moved back to Oklahoma from the remains of my seemingly happy life in Northampton, MA. I know people have been through worse, yes, but this was all so completely unexpected and expected. Anyway. Shitty. I started this blog while I was tinkering with spreadsheets at good ol' Yankee Candle as a way to kind of creatively get through this crappiness. A year later, it's strange to peruse the archives to see who I was and think about where I am now. Also, this is a good test to see if I know my months.

A year in the Blythe: a photographic and postographic retrospective.

September

I picked apples.

October

I went to a Halloween party in a barn. It was very New England. I do love Fall in New England. Something I already miss.

November

I met Augusten Borroughs.

December

I went home to the OK for Christmas. While Christmas is about family to most, to me it is about gifts. Too bad for me.

January

I decided to move home. Yup. That's all I'm gonna say about that. Oh, except that before I left, Party Cat (featured in November) got tape stuck in her ass.

(I suggest clicking to enlarge.)

February

I will be single forever! And ever! and ever!

March

I loved substitute teaching middle schoolers in Noble, OK. No, really. I actually did.

April

I got all nostalgic and shit.

May

Shain and I continue our tempestuous relationship.

June

I celebrated my the one year anniversary of my dumpage. Sometimes I can't believe I made it. Sometimes I can't believe I stayed with that kid for so long. Bygones! Also, L and I hung out a lot. This is when I starting thinking I would someday ask her to be my hetero life mate. This is also one of the best perks of moving home.

July

I got HPV(II).

August

I got old.

And now, well, looking back, it seems pretty mundane, but trust me. It was. Ok, seriously? It was a fucking awful year, but I think things are on the upswing. I really do. Well, as long as OU continues to dominate.

It's Friday, I'm in Love

but I'm also sad. Very sad. Madeleine L'Engle died yesterday. You know, the lady who wrote A Wrinke In Time? The first time (of a million) I read that book (with my dad) it totally blew my mind. How badly did I want to be like Meg Murray? With all of my little dorked out heart. Those books either confirmed my nerdom or drove me toward geekiness. After the Time Fantasy series, I moved on to reading about the Austins and then proceeded to read and reread each book enjoying their entertwined characters and themes. Cause I'm a super dork. My middle school band was named Nephilim (99.99% of you have no idea what I'm talking about, well in the context of L'Engle)! Not gonna lie, I was especially pleased to learn that she too attended Smith College. Sure, she had a totally weird Christian bent that I don't get, but eh. It's a sad day, but I'm so happy to have had her writing as part of my young life. Or now. Since I'll probably dust off the collection. Love!

Everything That's Happened To Me Since Wednesday or, Sorry to Disappoint, Crimenotes:

1. Work has kicked my ass. But I also might be offered a new job, which would result in less ass kickings and more $$. In the meantime, I am boring.

2. Ultimate extreme tragedy struck. My cell phone finally bit it. Bitch snapped in half. I, of course, followed suit. I had a total and utter meltdown Friday night that resulted in me drinking margaritas at Chili's. In a related story, I have lost everyone's numbers. To most, this would be absolutely devastating, but for me, it's ok, since I only have like three friends. But if you want me to call you or not screen your call since I won't recognize your number, send me an email with your digits, yo.

3. My dad runs on bacon. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, my dad somehow managed to incorporate bacon into every meal prepared at the old homestead (no, Shain, I wasn't eating it - jerk didn't ask me if I wanted any). Now, don't get me wrong, I love me some bacon, but it's not really all that sexy to go out smelling like Waffle House.

4. See ya C-tina! C-tina made her brief, but triumphant return to Nompton before she departed for Slovakia for 10 months. We ate quiche at La Baguette just like the old days. We bought too much food at Forward Foods. We wandered around Guest Room Records for an hour. I bought Whatever and Ever Amen and was amazed that I still know every word to every song. We had ninth grade in my bedroom. It was wonderful.

5. I saw a movie. And a good one. I think. I might be the only one, though. Eagle vs. Shark played at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art. I was obligated to like it because Jemaine Clement is in it, so. Also, there were shark and eagle costumes. And most importantly, a supremely awkward relationship. All of those things are near and dear to my heart. The theater was really quiet, so I had to stifle my laughter quite a bit. That, plus my desperate need to pee, but refusal to get up proved to be a multi-media viewing experience. I'm fairly certain my viewing companion thought I was having a seizure. Which is cute right? No? If you can, see this movie. You'll like it. Oh, and then I went to this bar you'd also like. It's called Edna's. You can drink something called a Lunchbox. At first, I thought Edna's Lunchbox was akin to the Houston Ham Sandwich or Cincinnati Bow-Tie and was quite skeptical of the suggestion (but hey - I'll try anything once), but it's actually a delicious, yet cheap drink. That and other beverages required a trip to the bathroom. Which was fun, since there was only one stall and it had no door. Nothing like having to ask a random girl to guard your front. I did get felt up, though. I somehow always do in the ladies room. I dunno.

6. I bought a book. It's by Anthony Bourdain, of course. Is it weird I only read it before bed so I can dream of not (only) him, but the food?

7. I am contemplating the end of this blog. I am either depressed or thinking about being happy. I am no longer wallowing in abject misery, which seemed to be what worked best. What do you think?

i found the marble in the oatmeal!

UPDATE: Real life is still kicking my ass all over the playground then stealing my lunch money, so...

Between work life and real life, the Bee-Spot is functioning on about 9 hours of sleep out of the past 72. It's not pretty. I am almost always incoherent to begin with, so now it's just sad. In the meantime, there's a hurricane? MC Rove resigned? What day is it? I'll get back in the saddle again, I promise. Don't miss me too much. Oh, you didn't even notice the lack of posting? Ok.

I'm cured! (SEMI SPOILER ALERT - literary, not near nudity)

of the HPV(VII)!! You may now speak to me about it.

On a side note, I want to get married sooo badly that I actually almost want to get married. Like to the first person that asks. And name my kiddos Lily, James, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Albus and Voldemort. I laughed, I cried, it was better than the Da Vinci Code.

Oh Harry! How I will miss you! Until the sixth movie or until JK most certainly begins to pen a lengthy prequel.

Do you like Harry Potter? No... I LOVE him.

Live blogging the HPVII.

10:57 Scene of the Crime.

11:03 Pre-game.

12:48 (after quick trip to book store) Success!

No sleep till Brooklyn!

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with love.

Perhaps it is the alignment of HPV [the movie, people - and yes, I saw it for a second time last night and yes, I spent a fair bit of the remaining night rereading HPVI in a red and gold scarf I knitted for the occasion and no, I don't have a boyfriend] and HPVII (the book). Perhaps it is the fact that my mother's cell went dead on her week long trip to visit relatives in the "resort" town of Galveston, Texas. Perhaps it is because the first OU game's like a month away or something and I've got tickets. Perhaps it is hearing from long lost friends. Perhaps it is sleeping with my windows wide open. Perhaps it is because I had a dream where I was actually on Red Eye. Perhaps it's knowing someone else loves to hate on Dean Blevins as much as me. Perhaps it is the impending visit of my great aunt and uncle who are driving down from Tulsa to distribute their emu oil, because yeah, my relatives run an emu ranch, to Dodson's Health Foods. Perhaps it is the word "incontrovertible," which I am really enjoying right now. Perhaps it is because I have pretty decent eyebrows that require little plucking (although, I do none) because I have enough other things to worry about. Perhaps it is the grand opening of Sooner Mall's Forever 21 (aka Hooker's R Us - or in my case, me). Perhaps it is tomorrow's farmers market. Perhaps it's tonight's drink that I will get all by myself like an adult at a bar after work because I am a grown up and can do things like that if I want.

But mostly, it's this fucking song that is making my robot heart leak oil like Lohan leaks drool when she passes out in Samantha Ronson's car. Fuck you Old 97's and your Zach Braffian ways into my heart.

Question - Old 97's

Whoa is me.

*SPOILER ALERT - WHINING*

Do you ever feel like a poo sandwich? I feel like a poo sandwich on rye with extra Limburger cheese.


1. I am really hoping the mirror in the bathroom at work is broken, or something. Humidity is 2000% here these days and my hair goes from super soft (not my words) to something not unlike the Friends episode where Monica plays ping pong in Hawaii. Normally, I wouldn't care since I'm not one to fuss with such things, but I'm at least trying to make a good impression at work for the first few days anyway. Shit pisses me off. Also, someone could tell me my mascara has melted down my face after I return from scurrying about campus. Jeez.

2. I just want to sit outside and drink beers on a patio. I just want to drive around in my car with the windows down. I just want to watch a movie in my bed. I want to go on a real date with dinner and everything. But, I don't really know anyone who's into that (maybe including myself). Whine, whine whine.

3. Tonight (or last night, whatever, I don't know what time it is), I was walking my dog - wait, let me back up, today marked day 20 out of 20 consecutive days of rain (or something like that - ask Gary England), so every surface is water logged. The area where my driveway meets the street is covered in a mossy, wattery goo that I promptly slid in and landed on my ass much to the dismay of Claire. Being the strong breed that she is, she dragged me about two feet before I figured out how to get up (lightning fast reflexes!!). My whole right side was covered in this kind of stinky slime. I scraped my elbow. Ow.

4. Until right now, I had forgotten that Oklahoma declared the watermelon to be the state vegetable.

5. My Monday night consisted of a trip to heaven (Super Target), a failed dog walk, reading New York Magazine, the warm glow of my computer screen and a slush from Classic 50s.

6. The 4th is as bad as New Years. I always feel pressured to be at some fantastic party/barbecue having the best time of the summer knowing that it's halfway over. Half the time I end up spending a paycheck on fireworks, then almost blowing myself up or at least starting a small grass fire. The other half of the time I bitch about the parking at the fireworks venue and wish I was there with anyone but who I'm there with.

7. Mr. Shain will undoubtedly hail this post the worst yet of my dismal, but thankfully brief (much like my love life) blogging career. I might agree, but first I will listen to enough M. Ward to tranquilize a hippo.

Zack Harrison Memorial Music Monday: Anniversary of my unceremonious dumping edition.

Update: Mr. Shain weighs in.


Today, I think, marks the day the exbf dumped me. I'm not gonna lie, it's been rough going, but I think I'm going to pull through. Someday.


I wrote this super long, whiney ass post about everything, then realized it was crap. The exbf sucked in a lot of ways, but it's all in the past. Bygones.

This week's break-up playlist:

Lover I Don't Have To Love - Bright Eyes
Littles Things - Lily Allen
Song for the Dumped - Ben Folds Five
Handle With Care - Jenny Lewis
She's Got You - Patsy Cline
Somebody That I Used To Know - Elliott Smith
Single Again - The Fiery Furnaces
I'm Sorry I Love You - The Magnetic Fields
Let's Not Belong Together - Pete Yorn
How Come You Don't Call Me Anymore - Prince
High and Dry - Radiohead
If I Ever Feel Better - Phoenix
Don't Think Twice, It's Alright - Bob Dylan
Broken One - Luke Doucet
Alternative to Love - Brendan Benson
Lovers Need Lawyers - The Good Life
Pictures - Sia
Why Does It Always Rain On Me? - Travis
The One That Got Away - Tom Waits
I'm A Broken Heart - The Bird and the Bee
Come Pick Me Up - Ryan Adams
The District Sleeps Alone Tonight - The Postal Service
Smile - Lily Allen
Let It Die - Feist
I Am Trying To Break Your Heart - Wilco
I Don't Love Anyone - Belle and Sebastian

Hopefully sometime soon I'm finally unheartbroken playlist:

Better Together - Jack Johnson
Sweet Thing - Van Morrison
Us - Regina Spektor
Sundress - Ben Kweller
Gamble Everything For Love - Ben Lee
Thirteen - Big Star
In A Little While - U2
Power of Two - Indigo Girls
How Can I Tell You - Cat Stevens
Inside and Out - Feist
First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes
Always Love - Nada Surf
Parentheses - The Blow
Dream - Alice Smith
I'm The Man Who Loves You - Wilco
This Will Be Our Year - Ok Go
Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Piazza, New York Catcher - Belle and Sebastian
Ambulance - T.V. on the Radio
I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
Let My Love Open the Door- M. Ward
I'll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide
Such Great Heights - The Postal Service
Love, Love, Love - As Tall As Lions

Did I mention I'm single?

If you are an avid reader of this blog, which I suspect you are (not), then you know that I am totally sweet and awesome. Every now and then, or maybe just once a year. In the meantime, it can be tough going. As I've stated before, I am happy to be single, most of the time, and truly, this is best for everyone. However, every few weeks I just get this intense pang of relationship jealousy. I scowl at happy couples blithely shopping at Super Target. I hope they are there to ashamedly purchase pregnancy tests or anal itch cream. I hope that some lady's GIANT engagement ring is cubic zirconia or fake gold and turns her finger green, then she breaks up with the douche because he's cheap, then she and I become BFF's in our shared misery. I start to identify with characters in Sex and the City reruns. Disastrous. I am in one of those unfortunate moods. I have to remind myself, that while being part of a couple has, um, a lot of benefits (namely boo-tay), being single is the shit!

1. I can sleep diagonally!
2. I actually do my laundry instead of just buying new clothes!
3. I don't have to sit through shitty action movies!
4. I only have to deal with one set of insane parents!
5. I read books! (sort of)
6. I can listen to my music at ungodly volumes without shame!
7. I can eat like a maniac!

But, of course, there are drawbacks. I think, lately, I've been especially missing the element of having a co-conspirator. It's hard to make, then carryout often terrible, impulsive decisions alone. I like to do things like drive through the country going from one yard sale to the next till I'm in another state with a trunk full of absolutely worthless crap that I will come to love. I like to drive two states away for dinner, get too tired to drive back, check into a hotel at 4.30am, then try to make it back in time for work. I like to try recipes that are far too difficult for the home chef that require (frequently multiple) trips to specialty stores and sometimes live deliveries via the internet. Good times.

The other day, because I am currently musically obsessed with Brendan Benson, I found this spectacular song. Somehow, Brendan knew, back in 2003, what I would be feeling in Spring 2007 and wrote this song from the current contents of my head. The man is a genius. Take a listen.

What I'm Looking For - Brendan Benson

In honor of my shitty mood, I present you with the following playlist in case you're getting some.

Let's Make Out, Indie Style:

Helpless - Needle
Game for Fools - Jamie Lidell
Hold You In My Arms - Ray Lamontagne
Together - Raconteurs
Tulips - Fancy Trash
Intuition - Feist
Post War - M. Ward
To Be Alone With You - Sufjan Stevens
Make a Plan To Love Me - Bright Eyes
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie
Volcano - Damien Rice
She's a Jar - Wilco
By Your Side - Cocorosie
Samson - Regina Spektor
Inaudible Melodies - Jack Johnson
Glory Box - Portishead
Road - Nick Drake
Sundress - Ben Kweller
Love, Love, Love (love love) - As Tall As Lions
Butterfly Nets - Bishop Allen
On Your Porch - The Format
Let My Love Open The Door - M. Ward
Dream - Alice Smith
You Can Bring Me Flowers - Ray Lamontagne
Citrus - The Hold Steady
Pregnant - Cold War Kids
Star Witness - Neko Case
Gamble Everything For Love - Ben Lee
Why - Andrew Bird
Your Place - Zero 7
Words You Used To Say - Dean and Britta
All The Night Without Love - Elvis Perkins
The Greatest - Cat Power
Let it Die - Feist
Pin a Rose on Me - Chuck Prophet
Put a Spell On You - Aqualung
Waiting Line - Zero 7
Janine - Soul Coughing
Sovay - Andrew Bird
I'm a Broken Heart - The Bird and the Bee
Something About You Girl - Tahiti 80
Lay and Love - Bonnie Prince Billy
Lucky Dime - Calexico
Can You Come for Me - The Poems
Last Request - Paolo Nutini
Moving Pictures Silent Film - Great Lake Swimmers
I'll Be Your Mirror - Clem Snide
Everybody Daylight - Brightback Morning Light
What Light - Wildo
Shelter - Ray Lamontagne