Me:
So, I'm watching Cabin in the Woods.
I hate slasher films.
But it's Joss Whedon and I can't stop enjoying it.
But I am disturbed.
But am laughing at many parts.
Tamu:
I have nothing to say to you.
You ALWAYS do this.
Me:
I AM SORRY THAT I JUST HAVE TO WATCH SOME THINGS.
This isn't a video game, though.
Tamu:
Same diff
Me:
WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!
Tamu:
Know your limits.
No one had a gun to your head.
Me:
My curiosity did.
And it also had barbed wire.
And some grenades.
And also Joss Whedon.
Ugh, it is so good!
I won't sleep at night.
Tamu:
Mallory...
Me:
DON'T JUDGE.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Saturday, March 1, 2014
One Sweet Dream Came True Today
These past three weeks, I have listened to Abbey Road an amount of at least 70 times.
I am not exaggerating on this.
This is not typical behavior outside of my Beatles realm. Maybe I'll enjoy a song for a few good weeks, but it is in a playlist of songs, all different musicians, and it isn't on a constant loop.
I have just always been this way with my Beatles.
Somewhere in our home movies, there is video footage of me lying on a bean bag, eyes closed, headphones connected to a cassette player. I am belting out the lyrics to Here Comes The Sun. There is a CD player next to me as I was swapping between albums so I could memorize exactly when to come in, as the cassette tape I was listening to was the karaoke versions of different Beatles songs--I wanted to learn the cues without the lyrical cues from Lennon or McCartney--and sometimes Ringo. I was probably ten or eleven, and my father had come in on my unbeknownst to me, probably to see what the ruckus was of his daughter screaming out "SUN, SUN, SUN, HERE IT COMES."
When I was four years old, my mother said I came home one day singing Yellow Submarine out of nowhere, not missing a beat. Apparently, as my father drove me to school every day, I asked him to teach me the lyrics instead of our usual Count To 100 game. The lyrics are embedded in me to this day.
I also remember when our music teacher in the fourth grade allowed us to bring in our own music to play a song for the class. One student, John, said, "I have this new CD that's super cool--there's a really funny song on it!" As he handed it to her, I remember sighing--all the other kids didn't listen to the same music as me, so I was set to tune out the next four minutes. But then Maxwell's Silver Hammer came on, and I stared at John in wonder.
"The Beatles!" I said, a little loudly. "I didn't know you listened to them."
"Yeah," he said, trying not to seem too friendly with me. I wasn't popular even in elementary school. "I just got their new CD."
"Well, it's been out for a while," I said, frowning. I was at that age of knowing something, but being so used to being corrected by everyone that I questioned whether I was remembering it correctly.
"No, it just came out," he said smugly.
"Not the music," I said quietly, but John was already scoffing to his croonies about how I didn't know anything.
Despite childhood assholery, I still always remember that John liked Abbey Road, and that connected us somehow. Even if he always acted a class clown.
In college, my History of Rock and Roll class had a whole segment dedicated to The Beatles. I almost cried during our listening session to Day in the Life as I began to remember that only half of them were still alive, and that it could never be recreated again. I also didn't need to study.
When I was thirteen, I was taught how to use a turntable with Rubber Soul.
"I used to own every album," my father had said, eyes looking fondly at the past while we dug through the boxes from under the stairs. It was dusty, and the smell was that of old books. I couldn't fathom getting rid of them at any point in my life.
I bought my XBox 360 for Beatles: Rock Band, as I had been waiting on purchasing until that special edition came out.
So, basically, it is safe to say that 70 times in three weeks is really not that big of a deal for someone like me. Not that I listen to them constantly, either. I just always make my way back to listen to what they have to say. I feel as if there is something different every time I hear a song, mostly because I realize something new every couple of rounds in my own life.
The focus of this past month has been renewal. Renewal of life, of environment, of goals. Not just because of the New Year, but other alterations in life that were beyond my control. The company I work for let go a slew of people, and had me move locations; death anniversaries are coming up here in March and April; my brother came back for two weeks, then left for South Korea again; my birthday is coming up.
So, I made a list of the most important things in my life, my priorities and what I wanted to do. I made a firm decision to travel in 2015. I made an appointment with a nutritionist to help me with training for said travel in 2015 (as I'll be walking almost a marathon every day). I re-evaluated my weekly schedules for work, and how I was spending my free time. I renewed myself.
Which led to Abbey Road. As I said, some music you listen to, it speaks to you in a different way every time you listen to it. And throughout the 70 times, I heard 'Life Changing Decisions' over and over again. And, although my friends seem to find it as unfathomable as I did with my father ridding himself of vinyls, I just knew that I had to strive for what I know I have to accomplish in life, and not let anyone, or anything, get in the way.
I've always felt that when you know something is right, you can feel it in your gut. I felt it when I wanted to go to Perpich, when I needed to go to New Zealand, when I had to find my way to the cities... And now I know that I need to keep that momentum going.
One of my most favorite things about The Beatles is how versatile their music is. Every album is different, and they grew with their music. The started out as jokers, almost pranksters on the music labels, and slowly turned more serious and dedicated to their own dreams. I like that combination. Music for any occasion in one band.
I am not exaggerating on this.
This is not typical behavior outside of my Beatles realm. Maybe I'll enjoy a song for a few good weeks, but it is in a playlist of songs, all different musicians, and it isn't on a constant loop.
I have just always been this way with my Beatles.
Somewhere in our home movies, there is video footage of me lying on a bean bag, eyes closed, headphones connected to a cassette player. I am belting out the lyrics to Here Comes The Sun. There is a CD player next to me as I was swapping between albums so I could memorize exactly when to come in, as the cassette tape I was listening to was the karaoke versions of different Beatles songs--I wanted to learn the cues without the lyrical cues from Lennon or McCartney--and sometimes Ringo. I was probably ten or eleven, and my father had come in on my unbeknownst to me, probably to see what the ruckus was of his daughter screaming out "SUN, SUN, SUN, HERE IT COMES."
When I was four years old, my mother said I came home one day singing Yellow Submarine out of nowhere, not missing a beat. Apparently, as my father drove me to school every day, I asked him to teach me the lyrics instead of our usual Count To 100 game. The lyrics are embedded in me to this day.
I also remember when our music teacher in the fourth grade allowed us to bring in our own music to play a song for the class. One student, John, said, "I have this new CD that's super cool--there's a really funny song on it!" As he handed it to her, I remember sighing--all the other kids didn't listen to the same music as me, so I was set to tune out the next four minutes. But then Maxwell's Silver Hammer came on, and I stared at John in wonder.
"The Beatles!" I said, a little loudly. "I didn't know you listened to them."
"Yeah," he said, trying not to seem too friendly with me. I wasn't popular even in elementary school. "I just got their new CD."
"Well, it's been out for a while," I said, frowning. I was at that age of knowing something, but being so used to being corrected by everyone that I questioned whether I was remembering it correctly.
"No, it just came out," he said smugly.
"Not the music," I said quietly, but John was already scoffing to his croonies about how I didn't know anything.
Despite childhood assholery, I still always remember that John liked Abbey Road, and that connected us somehow. Even if he always acted a class clown.
In college, my History of Rock and Roll class had a whole segment dedicated to The Beatles. I almost cried during our listening session to Day in the Life as I began to remember that only half of them were still alive, and that it could never be recreated again. I also didn't need to study.
When I was thirteen, I was taught how to use a turntable with Rubber Soul.
"I used to own every album," my father had said, eyes looking fondly at the past while we dug through the boxes from under the stairs. It was dusty, and the smell was that of old books. I couldn't fathom getting rid of them at any point in my life.
I bought my XBox 360 for Beatles: Rock Band, as I had been waiting on purchasing until that special edition came out.
So, basically, it is safe to say that 70 times in three weeks is really not that big of a deal for someone like me. Not that I listen to them constantly, either. I just always make my way back to listen to what they have to say. I feel as if there is something different every time I hear a song, mostly because I realize something new every couple of rounds in my own life.
The focus of this past month has been renewal. Renewal of life, of environment, of goals. Not just because of the New Year, but other alterations in life that were beyond my control. The company I work for let go a slew of people, and had me move locations; death anniversaries are coming up here in March and April; my brother came back for two weeks, then left for South Korea again; my birthday is coming up.
So, I made a list of the most important things in my life, my priorities and what I wanted to do. I made a firm decision to travel in 2015. I made an appointment with a nutritionist to help me with training for said travel in 2015 (as I'll be walking almost a marathon every day). I re-evaluated my weekly schedules for work, and how I was spending my free time. I renewed myself.
Which led to Abbey Road. As I said, some music you listen to, it speaks to you in a different way every time you listen to it. And throughout the 70 times, I heard 'Life Changing Decisions' over and over again. And, although my friends seem to find it as unfathomable as I did with my father ridding himself of vinyls, I just knew that I had to strive for what I know I have to accomplish in life, and not let anyone, or anything, get in the way.
I've always felt that when you know something is right, you can feel it in your gut. I felt it when I wanted to go to Perpich, when I needed to go to New Zealand, when I had to find my way to the cities... And now I know that I need to keep that momentum going.
One of my most favorite things about The Beatles is how versatile their music is. Every album is different, and they grew with their music. The started out as jokers, almost pranksters on the music labels, and slowly turned more serious and dedicated to their own dreams. I like that combination. Music for any occasion in one band.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Forge the Friendship River
Justin: If I were a professional musician, I would learn how to back flip off stage items while playing guitar. I feel like it would keep the crowd engaged, and could spark social media publicity.
Me: There is a local band with a keyboardist who does handstands on his keyboard.
I also like the fact that this is what keeps them engaged.
Not the music, which is what they are originally there for.
Justin: Live music is all about showmanship.
I mean, I'm there for the music, too, but man do you need some fun.
Me: I think I would do mine in a fish tank.
Not even lip sync.
Justin: That's aggressive.
As soon as the showmanship goes above the music, it's too much.
eg. Tommy Lee and the rotating drum kit.
Me: Disagreed.
I think it proves how committed I am to the sound.
To the fans.
Justin: Mallory, I am correct on this.
As a self proclaimed music expert, and former professional marketer.
Me: Were you really a marketer for a musician?
Or a label?
Justin: No.
Not even a little bit.
Me: LIAR.
Justin:
But I worked in PR, then marketing for a consumer electronics company and worked a lot with musicians.
Does that count?
I met Bon Jovi once. I think the bassist was drunk.
Me: It is difficult for me to get over these feelings of betrayal to decide.
Justin: What did I lie about?
I said I was a marketer.
Me: Okay, you embellished.
Justin: That's factual.
I didn't even embellish a little bit.
Me: I feel like you're forging across a river of our friendship right now.
What else would you like to lose on this forge?
Justin: What can I say?
I'm a risk taker.
Would you rather our friendship stall at the edge of this great river?
Or venture through to the next level?
I didn't quit Super Mario at the first castle.
I hammered through until I saved the princess.
Me: The Princess didn't lie and say she was in another castle.
Justin: Never did I lie, Mallory.
Me: Semantics.
Justin: Nor will I.
Do, from time to time, omit?
Yes. Yes I do.
Mallory: I'll have you know, I was also just going to ping you, because I realized that you usually always ping me. And I was all, "I should rectify that." And then you pinged me.
Justin: So, you were standing at the river bank of our friendship and chose not to forge, nor caulk your wheels and float it across, and definitely not charter a raft.
Mallory: ...
Justin: All for a two foot deep, eight foot wide friendship river.
Mallory: Our friendship river reflects our relationship so well--shallow.
Justin: I was trying to signal that forging the river, i.e. sending an IM, is a low cost of entry, and easy to do.
Mallory: I think this Oregon Trail/Friendship metaphor is getting out of hand. All I can think about is dying of dysentery while waiting for a response from you.
Justin: Look.
Sometimes I have to go hunting.
Hunting takes time.
And bullets.
Mallory: Meanwhile, Johnny is engraving Jimmy's last words of "peprony and chease" in stone.
Justin: WELL DONE.
Mallory: *bows*
Me: There is a local band with a keyboardist who does handstands on his keyboard.
I also like the fact that this is what keeps them engaged.
Not the music, which is what they are originally there for.
Justin: Live music is all about showmanship.
I mean, I'm there for the music, too, but man do you need some fun.
Me: I think I would do mine in a fish tank.
Not even lip sync.
Justin: That's aggressive.
As soon as the showmanship goes above the music, it's too much.
eg. Tommy Lee and the rotating drum kit.
Me: Disagreed.
I think it proves how committed I am to the sound.
To the fans.
Justin: Mallory, I am correct on this.
As a self proclaimed music expert, and former professional marketer.
Me: Were you really a marketer for a musician?
Or a label?
Justin: No.
Not even a little bit.
Me: LIAR.
Justin:
But I worked in PR, then marketing for a consumer electronics company and worked a lot with musicians.
Does that count?
I met Bon Jovi once. I think the bassist was drunk.
Me: It is difficult for me to get over these feelings of betrayal to decide.
Justin: What did I lie about?
I said I was a marketer.
Me: Okay, you embellished.
Justin: That's factual.
I didn't even embellish a little bit.
Me: I feel like you're forging across a river of our friendship right now.
What else would you like to lose on this forge?
Justin: What can I say?
I'm a risk taker.
Would you rather our friendship stall at the edge of this great river?
Or venture through to the next level?
I didn't quit Super Mario at the first castle.
I hammered through until I saved the princess.
Me: The Princess didn't lie and say she was in another castle.
Justin: Never did I lie, Mallory.
Me: Semantics.
Justin: Nor will I.
Do, from time to time, omit?
Yes. Yes I do.
Mallory: I'll have you know, I was also just going to ping you, because I realized that you usually always ping me. And I was all, "I should rectify that." And then you pinged me.
Justin: So, you were standing at the river bank of our friendship and chose not to forge, nor caulk your wheels and float it across, and definitely not charter a raft.
Mallory: ...
Justin: All for a two foot deep, eight foot wide friendship river.
Mallory: Our friendship river reflects our relationship so well--shallow.
Justin: I was trying to signal that forging the river, i.e. sending an IM, is a low cost of entry, and easy to do.
Mallory: I think this Oregon Trail/Friendship metaphor is getting out of hand. All I can think about is dying of dysentery while waiting for a response from you.
Justin: Look.
Sometimes I have to go hunting.
Hunting takes time.
And bullets.
Mallory: Meanwhile, Johnny is engraving Jimmy's last words of "peprony and chease" in stone.
Justin: WELL DONE.
Mallory: *bows*
Thursday, February 20, 2014
And Now, The Weather
Me: So, how long is this supposed to last? The snow looks like fun to me right now, it can't be that bad.
Tamu: Fun?
Me: Yeah, like, the snowflakes are all big and cute and I just want to go out there and make some snowpeople.
Tamu: Well, it looks like--
Me: OH MY GODS, A SNOW TORNADO.
Tamu: Wait, wh--
Me: I AM SO EXCITED WHERE CAN I WATCH THIS HAPPEN.
Tamu: Girl, whatchu talking about? I don't see any--
Me: I'm on the Weather.com site, and it says we are on a tornado watch. Currently, we are in a blizzard. THIS MEANS WE GET A SNOW TORNADO.
Tamu: Why are you so excited about this?! This isn't a good thing! Who wants to see this?!
Me: Me! Are you trying to tell me that you aren't looking out the window right now? I HAVE NEVER SEEN ONE OF THESE I HAVE TO SEE IT.
Tamu: You're crazy. No one would want to see that.
Me: I'd bet you'd want to see it if it were a Shark-snownado.
Tamu: Not even a ghost one.
Me: Ghost-sharknowado.
Tamu: No. Not even if it came out of the snow to bite me.
Me: Oh my gods, the biggest disappointment.
Tamu: What?
Me: The warning looks to be for everywhere but Minnesota. Louisiana is so gods damn lucky right now.
Tamu: Seriously?
Me: You're right. It's not a snow tornado. I don't care anymore.
Tamu: You're sick.
Me: I'm sick of this boring non-snow-tornado weather, yes.
Tamu: Well, it looks like we're getting the snow until at least twelve-noon tomorrow. "Beware of snow drifts on the road," it says. Two to three feet tall. So, you'll have a snow-tsunami instead.
Me: It's not the same. Just let it go.
Tamu: I think you need to let it go.
Me: *sigh* Nothing is the same when you think a snow tornado into existence.
Tamu: I'm not sorry your imagination doesn't make things real.
Me: How big did you say those snow drifts will be?
Tamu: Two to three feet tall.
Me: Wow. That's, like, half my body.
Tamu: Oh, well, now you're impressed?
Me: I'm getting used to the idea.
Tamu: Only you.
UPDATE:
Me: What do you have against Snownado?
Tamu: I can't handle that. I can handle a Snornado.
Me: Snornado? A storm of sleep?
Tamu: Yeah, a Snornado. I sometimes get attacked by one when I'm at my desk.
Me: Touche.
Tamu: Fun?
Me: Yeah, like, the snowflakes are all big and cute and I just want to go out there and make some snowpeople.
Tamu: Well, it looks like--
Me: OH MY GODS, A SNOW TORNADO.
Tamu: Wait, wh--
Me: I AM SO EXCITED WHERE CAN I WATCH THIS HAPPEN.
Tamu: Girl, whatchu talking about? I don't see any--
Me: I'm on the Weather.com site, and it says we are on a tornado watch. Currently, we are in a blizzard. THIS MEANS WE GET A SNOW TORNADO.
Tamu: Why are you so excited about this?! This isn't a good thing! Who wants to see this?!
Me: Me! Are you trying to tell me that you aren't looking out the window right now? I HAVE NEVER SEEN ONE OF THESE I HAVE TO SEE IT.
Tamu: You're crazy. No one would want to see that.
Me: I'd bet you'd want to see it if it were a Shark-snownado.
Tamu: Not even a ghost one.
Me: Ghost-sharknowado.
Tamu: No. Not even if it came out of the snow to bite me.
Me: Oh my gods, the biggest disappointment.
Tamu: What?
Me: The warning looks to be for everywhere but Minnesota. Louisiana is so gods damn lucky right now.
Tamu: Seriously?
Me: You're right. It's not a snow tornado. I don't care anymore.
Tamu: You're sick.
Me: I'm sick of this boring non-snow-tornado weather, yes.
Tamu: Well, it looks like we're getting the snow until at least twelve-noon tomorrow. "Beware of snow drifts on the road," it says. Two to three feet tall. So, you'll have a snow-tsunami instead.
Me: It's not the same. Just let it go.
Tamu: I think you need to let it go.
Me: *sigh* Nothing is the same when you think a snow tornado into existence.
Tamu: I'm not sorry your imagination doesn't make things real.
Me: How big did you say those snow drifts will be?
Tamu: Two to three feet tall.
Me: Wow. That's, like, half my body.
Tamu: Oh, well, now you're impressed?
Me: I'm getting used to the idea.
Tamu: Only you.
UPDATE:
Me: What do you have against Snownado?
Tamu: I can't handle that. I can handle a Snornado.
Me: Snornado? A storm of sleep?
Tamu: Yeah, a Snornado. I sometimes get attacked by one when I'm at my desk.
Me: Touche.
Checking Up On Friends
Me: So, you're alive, right?
Friend: Affirmative.
Me: Because identifying your body right now does not sound appealing.
Unless you're dressed as a clown.
Then I would have to smother a smile.
Friend: That can be arranged.
Me: Can we do that another night? I'm busy.
Friend: Although I can only think of sexual connotations for being dressed as a clown.
So beware.
Me: Hrm... I suppose I knew what I was getting into, being your friend in general.
Bring it on.
Friend: Prepare to be scarred for life.
No.
Prepare to be scarred beyond life.
Me: What's life without something that'll last?
Friend: Living a facade of an existence.
Me: Exactly. That is why I don't fear AIDs, or becoming paraplegic.
Friend: What about paraplegaids?
Haha, made you think about that one.
Me: Yes. That's because I have never seen that word in my life.
Friend: That's because I'm a motherfucking wordsmith.
Friend: Affirmative.
Me: Because identifying your body right now does not sound appealing.
Unless you're dressed as a clown.
Then I would have to smother a smile.
Friend: That can be arranged.
Me: Can we do that another night? I'm busy.
Friend: Although I can only think of sexual connotations for being dressed as a clown.
So beware.
Me: Hrm... I suppose I knew what I was getting into, being your friend in general.
Bring it on.
Friend: Prepare to be scarred for life.
No.
Prepare to be scarred beyond life.
Me: What's life without something that'll last?
Friend: Living a facade of an existence.
Me: Exactly. That is why I don't fear AIDs, or becoming paraplegic.
Friend: What about paraplegaids?
Haha, made you think about that one.
Me: Yes. That's because I have never seen that word in my life.
Friend: That's because I'm a motherfucking wordsmith.
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