INTERNET! I am too many places right now. Mostly I am at my unthemed blog and my semi-professional one. Semi-professional! What what what what. All signs point to Texas, Summer 2012, MFA or no MFA. I will be 25 years old then. What is that.

Most folks find their way here via "twee bands". Funny how that worked out.



Pop songs your boyfriend's too stupid to know about, basically, is what I am into, of course, of course.

I just remembered the time I saw Jarvis Cocker at Pitchfork with a friend from college. This blog is reeeedundant.

Moving again. Packing up books. Thinking about things. Learned that nice isn't that nice, it is just boring when I think it's boring and if I ask, "What are you thinking?" and the answer was that, then that was that. Another attempt at being happy and not just content. Seeing the wide, wide expanse again. Trying to. Feeling productive (sort of, there is always, always more), feeling good, feeling antsy, feeling ill because of a cold and allergies and nerves. I'm excited for my commute to double. It's not by much, but it's a good thing.

Cults - Go Outside

To keep with theme, things are pretty. I may be coming down with a cold, again, but things are pretty. And nice. Nice is nice. Turned a wall in my living room into a calender. A stark reminder of things planned, things to come. So, life goals are no in a notebook in my bag and in my apartment. Nice, fine instead of flair, fizz. What a revelation.

I'm compiling my Summer Ready Jams. It's turning out to be a lot of gentle, snoozy, lay on the beach, find sand in bed stuff. Cults is on that list. You can download their 7" on the website.

Pretttttty.

I am trying to figure out the best way to make bats. Not actual bats but bat puppets, I guess. I think I'm going to knit them, maybe. I'm really excited about it. It's not just for fun, though, it is in a way. I have this camera now and I need a tripod and some patience. I cross off goals on a calender. It's been working out, for the most part, but I'll slip in things like "PUNCH THROUGH TO THE NEXT DIMENSION WITH YOUR FISTS" and it's like, come on, Monica, cool out, listen to some new music and it'll work out. I might make bat cakes, though.

My knowledge of terrible but wonderful music won us free beers last night. Last night, I drank more beers than I wanted to. I lost a glove in the snow. As I was taking off my boot, I realized this and went back outside to retrieve it because fuck me if I'm going to lose nice winter cycling gloves that I've only had for a few weeks. Maria had snacks. I like my life a lot, repeat that like some well-intentioned mantra. Instruction. Like your life. Repeat it enough and then it happens, as if by magic. Magic and work.

I take living in Chicago for granted. Tonight, I had planned to go home, eat some crappy take out, watch a sappy movie populated by beautiful people, and go to bed early. Instead, I'm going to (probably) see Cap'n Jazz. Cap'n motherfucking Jazz.



I listened to them when I was a teenager and it's been some time since. It is the soundtrack of being 16 and reading Don Delillo and Salinger for the first time. It is being awkward and unsure of who I was, who I would become.

The other option tonight was the Chicago Metaphysical Circus's Psych Fest at the Hideout. Nostalgia won out. I am really, really excited. I can't begin to say. Some day. I am doing this for teenage me. It'll be great.

New-ish Converge listened to finally.

It is so good. So, so good.