Rejoice. Oh Glory, Rejoice.

I have a shiny MacBook Pro now. Lovin' it. Lovin' it real good. Lovin' it so much that I almost shed a tear when I plugged my external hard drive in and figured out what I knew all along: I have corrupted files. I'm working on it but haven't had the time to try and salvage the bulk of my digital music collection. There are two reasons for this:

One. The new-ish El-P record, I'll Sleep When You're Dead. It's so good. And different. And not disappointing. It's rather dark and not summertime music in the way that the usual indie-pop fare I gravitate towards to is what with the lack of sunshine of the over-exposed variety and hand-claps and vanilla ice cream and it being, well, not jangly pretty music. Dark but not angst-riddled. None of the malaise I often attribute dark things. Dark and pulsing. Dark and alive. Dark and Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark. But fun. I can listen to this album and hear something different each time. The truth is, I've spent the bulk of the past month holed up in my room trying very much to get writing done. What I have accomplished, however, is the fine art of reading in bed whilst listening to records in their entirety. This is one that I'm mostly certain will stick with me beyond summer. Oh, hey, I listen to something other than guitars and drums and all of things like that?

Two. I learned how to ride a bike. Sort of. I have no time for computers and music what with slimmed-hipped boys distracting me. I also bought a U Lock so no more lugging it up and down three flights in a very narrow stairway. Music. Pfft.