I now know Ben Harper makes me sleepy.

Have you ever had so much on your plate that none of it really seems real? I have a million things to accomplish, but it's so much that my brain has reacted by skipping past stressed and overwhelmed to just a weird sort of calm. Like the eye of the storm; you know that there's still an entire fucking hurricane to get through, and you have no reason to be but you're just incredibly calm about the whole thing. I tend to panic in this sort of situation. My thought process generally goes a little something like this:

Step 1: What do I need to accomplish today?
Step 2: What can I do to accomplish that?
Step 3: Holy shit, that's a lot to do.
Step 4: Well, I guess if I plow through I can get the majority of it done.
Step 5: Oh shit, tonight is [insert social/family engagement that you already committed to].
Step 6: I'll just have to cancel.
Step 7: Oh my god, I forgot about that extra report due tomorrow.
Step 8: THERE IS NOT ENOUGH TIME IN THE DAY TO GET EVERYTHING DONE!
Step 9: Okay, okay, calm down.
Step 10: Nap

Uh, yeah. It's been busy, I guess is the point of this post. Actually, there really is no point I was hoping to get out of this. I was just kinda tired of looking at that last post. But, to make up for being lame, here is an ELEVEN MINUTE VIDEO of a song that I just can't get enough of. Yes, the song is awesome. No, I don't know what the heck the video is about. And you're probably nowhere near high enough to understand what's going on. That being said, enjoy!



Jeeeeeeeeez, did you watch the entire thing? Don't you have work to do?

If you change your mind, I'll be first in line.

Guys, I think I might love Abba.

On Friday night, Mama D and I went and saw Mamma Mia. Here's something you may not know about Mama D: when she loves something, she loves it. She saw Mamma Mia in the theatres and told everyone how amazing it was. She was a one-woman ad campaign for that movie. So, what better way than to earn the love of my mother than to buy her tickets to the stage show?

I wasn't really expecting anything from the show that I hadn't seen before in the movie. My expectations were mostly lots of glitter, some spandex and a shit-ton of Abba.


Pretty much.

Mama D and I gussied up and headed off to the show. After finding our seats and procuring some wine, we settled in for the long haul. (And I mean long. The show was almost 3 hours. 3 HOURS!)

I'll admit it, I went in with a "this is probably going to be kind of lame, but Mama D will like it" attitude. I scoffed inside when the lady next to me practically gave birth because she was so pumped up during "Dancing Queen". I rolled my eyes in the dark when the family of four in front of us bobbed their heads along to every song like they were at a Metallica concert.

And then something happened. After the "Money, Money, Money" song, I found myself thinking, "Jeez, they really rocked the shit on that one." By the time "Take A Chance On Me" came on, it hit me: I was really enjoying the show. It may not be the most hard hitting material, but holy hell, is it catchy. I was like a junkie; Abba was the dirty needle and sweet, sweet glittered bell bottoms were my crack.

After the show, which may or may not have included dancing by Mama D and slight, uncomfortable swaying by yours truly, we headed home. As we got into our car, I fished Rex Grayskull out of my purse and scrolled around for something to listen to. Nothing seemed to fit the bill for what I wanted to hear. So I put it on shuffle and secretly cursed myself for not having any Abba.

You win, you silly Swedes. You win.

Pop Quiz

What are college kids doing with their paychecks?

A.) Blowing it on two-for-one drink specials every Thursday night.
B.) Bribing Sallie Mae loan services to forget our number.
C.) Saving it up to go to a university we can't afford.
D.) Buying blow from Shifty Petey on the corner.
E.) Forgetting all the debt we've collected during our time in college and spending it all on concert tickets.

Answer: Mother-effing E. Suck it, Sallie Mae!*

*Seriously, if there's any way you could forget my number that would be spectacular.

I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

I've been a bit lost as of late. But unlike the TV show, there's no Matthew Fox or guy who plays Sayid to save me with sexy glances or explain to me what the eff is going on with all this time travel debauchery (seriously Richard Alpert, you have to be at least 100).

No, when I say lost I mean I am completely and totally unsure what I'm doing with my life. I mean sure, I'm going to school, I work, I have a social life, but what's the point of it all? Why am I doing it and why does it all feel so unrewarding? The biggest question of all, though, is how do I come back from this? How do I get found again?

Answer: beats me. I don't know and I get the feeling that I'll never know. Some days I'm okay with that and other days it terrifies me so much that I feel like curling into myself and disappearing. On the latter sort of days, I usually end up spending all day staring off into space with a nice, solid glaze over my eyes. The type of look that makes people think, "Is she thinking really hard about something or is she just high?" Hint: sadly it's not the high one.

Fortunately, I have some friends and family who are nice enough to listen to the ramblings of a confused little girl. I get some good advice from them.

"It's alright to just go through the motions sometimes."
"Your job doesn't define you."
"You're 21. You're not going to have it all figured out now and you shouldn't expect to."
"Why are you giving all your power over to someone? You're better than that."
"Don't wear white shorts with red underwear."

I usually feel better after talking to whoever drew the short straw and had to listen my complaints. Sometimes, however, advice comes to me from a somewhat unlikely source: Rex Grayskull, iPod extraordinaire. I knew if I paid $300 for an iPod it would give me life advice. Win.

I was driving into work this morning, still a little upset from my recent vacation to the dark side and trying to remember if I had any gum in my purse (answer: no). Rex was going through his morning shuffle when "I Want To Break Free" by Queen came on. One of the things I've been trying to sort through is my dependency on others. I like my friends and family, but there are times when I think I have to be a (wo)man about things and handle my business without all the fuss. Freddy Mercury seems to have discovered that several years before I was born.


This looks like a dude who knows his shit.

After the song was done, I felt a little better.

I can handle this, I thought. Next up was the song "Piece of My Heart" by Janis Joplin. I've been a casual Janis fan and can't listen to her without the overwhelming urge to get shitfaced, wear flowers and punch someone int he name of women everywhere. Peace and love my ass. But this morning I almost did a fist pump in the air when she screamed/sang (scranged? seamed?) the part that went, "take it!" Fuck. Yes. My heart is indeed a little battered and kind of split and broken in a few places. And the majority of the time it hurts like a mother (not literally. Nobody worry, I'm not going into cardiac arrest, unless by "arrest" you mean "nap time"), but life isn't all puppies and rainbows or rainbows made of puppies. It blows a lot of the time. And cheesy as it is, it's enormously gratifying to get through the hard times and feel like I've one upped life just by manning up and getting through it. In your face, Life. Ball's in your court assface.

Janis and Freddy gave me some good advice this morning. I walked into work feeling better. Today, I will conquer my little corner of the world. Tomorrow I might be back to being mopey and terrified, but today, well today I'm going to win because I have to. Because today there's really no other way to live than by saying, "Fuck it, I'm going for it."

And in my third life, I was a gypsy

I've been listening to this guy Beirut a lot lately. I don't know what it is, but the guy soothes me. He plays this gypsy sounding music that is heavy on the accordion and not at all shy about making me want to purchase a tambourine and start a traveling band. Or belly dance.


Pretty sure it'd look a little something like this.

I'm starting to think that there are very few problems in my life that can't be solved with a dance party.

We Go Together Like Groupies and Herpies

Hi. I'm KV and I love cheesy pop music. I've been a bad pop-music addict since I was in 8th grade and stood in line for four hours outside a Sears to purchase Backstreet Boys tickets. My addiction worsened the following month when I willingly and without influence purchased Will Smith's album Big Willie Style. My addiction further intensified when my brother's wife, Garland, became my music pusher. I discovered Rhianna, Robbie Williams, Michael Jackson, One Republic and, god help me, even that one Britney Spears song that doesn't make me want to stab myself in the face.

I am nowhere near recovery. But here's a secret: I don't want to be. I love pop music. I like to sing to it, I like to dance to it and I absolutely LOVE to get drunk to it.

That being said, does anyone else have a massive crush on The Killer's lead singer Brandon Flowers after seeing this video where he wears this:


"Is this enough brooding?"

I don't know what it is, but I want to be on him. Wait, that came out wrong. I meant to say that I, er, he's, um, screw it.

I want to be on him.