Knock, knock

I was taught that knocking on a door is the polite method of entry to a person's residence, especially if said person is, say, a professor. Well apparently I was taught wrong. A professor informed me of this today rather rudely by telling me to "never knock on my door ever again....and why were you knocking on my door? Don't do that." Nice. There goes Mr. Roger's Neighborhood and everything that went with it.

Also, why is it necessary for the JEM department to totally change their curriculum and do a poor job of telling students in the middle of their degree about the changes? And so ensues my endless (or so it seems) struggle to obtain the proper classes to graduate from this god forsaken place and by place I mean this city. I feel as if I have been working toward graduation since I was eight years old....knowing that graduating college would actually mean graduating Knoxville and becoming free to go wherever the hell I want. I know those are lofty ambitions seeing as how one cannot just find a job in whichever state/country they choose....but it's always a possibility.

Can I also say that I am growing more and more tired of the cult that jam heads have created for themselves. I know this sounds harsh and I really do think all music has its merit and place in society, and I like to think that I, myself, can appreciate most of it as well. BUT I think it gets a little out of control when every song/band/album/show that one mentions is almost immediately used to reference something even BETTER by The Grateful Dead, Phish, Widespread Panic, etc. I realize that not everyone who loves these bands is like that, but there is a growing number and I feel it is a club I will never join.

Thank God for the radio station or I don't know where I would go to hide under blankets and blankets of awesome music.

Beautiful day. Wish I wasn't exhausted. Warpaint at The Pilot Light tonite....sounds like a plan.

wild horses

This song has got to be the most overplayed Stones song besides I Can't Get No Satisfaction. I like it and all, but it didn't help that they used a terrible Jewel cover of it in every sex scene in this movie Fear that came on at Konrad's house the other day. Every time the bad boy attempted to seduce a very young and innocent Reese Witherspoon, I was forced to listen to a sappy, shmoozy, freaking terrible cover of Wild Horses playing softly in the background of their pseudo romantic moment. Way to go Mark Wahlberg (bad boy of the moment).

Apparently the cable/internet dude didn't leave a router like he was supposed to...hence my mother scolding me on the phone. I was too groggy from medication for the sickness that has plagued me for weeks to bother asking said cable dude any of the things I should have. Did I mention I painted my entire room a horrendous shade of purple/blue (the card said Sapphire....yeah right) that reminds one of Barney's own personal candy shop and upon my depression about my poor color choice, my mother repainted my entire room dark green while I was at a radio station meeting. My mom is the bomb and my room looks a hell of a lot better.

AND I have the incomparable Zooey Kit Kat back again. So far he has attempted to crawl into every opening in the wall, scratch up the silk cloth on the side table, and escape out the window while the Comcast dude came to fix our internet. Gotta love that little orange fluffy. (I call all furry things "fluffies" in an effort to make fun of the giant fuzzy boots that rave girls wear to raves in order to "get stupid retarded" to some super fly dubstep. Those boots are apparently called "fluffies" but I call all my own furry objects fluffies as well causing ravers to become very confused when I say I have a "fluffy" named Zooey and some chinchilla "fluffies" for my hair.)

Shelby is here to pick up Konnie and I. Back to life outside the golden roast.

grace potter

How can I describe the magnitude of her music/show/pipes? I really can't, but she is fantastic. Probably the best concert I have seen all summer and that's saying something after seeing The Flaming Lips at Forecastle. Plus The Dirty Guv'nahs (Knoxville natives I might add) who performed before her were awesome as well and they're coming to The Bijou this September so get your tickets now. The energy in both shows was above and beyond what I have seen in a long time and we were at the very front. Did I mention Grace Potter's mom was standing right behind us taking pictures? She was adorable. AND this is all after my engine overheated about 50 miles outside of Asheville and we weren't even sure if we would make it. What can I say? Sometimes life actually works out.

cowboy movie

My kindred spirit Graham recently gave me one of the best albums I have heard in awhile. It's David Crosby's If I Could Only Remember My Name and it is absolutely beautiful. I know I love an album when it makes me miss something that I never had or maybe something that happened so long ago I don't even remember it. Thanks, friend. Cowboy Movie never gets old. So much soul.