i would very much like to kiss chuck klosterman

last night i had a moment. somewhere in the haze of gin making sexy times with my empty stomach and the weed putting my brain into ________ mode i had a genuine moment. 

this was the moment: you’re sitting talking to someone. a cute someone. and that someone is saying something either a) cute or b) interesting or both cute and interesting and you’re just sitting listening and you become hypnotized by their lips moving. or not hypnotized so much as turned on and this huge part of you realises that you want to say, “sorry, just to interrupt for a second but um…i’d very much like to kiss you” and whether you kiss them or not you said what you felt. it was one of those moments. i didn’t say that phrase but i did really want to. i wonder if he would’ve kissed me? 

i’d very much like to kiss chuck klosterman. wouldn’t it be so hilarious if compulsively googled himself (and it seems like he’s someone who might) and google led him here and he read this ages old blog and found me somehow witty and interesting and kissable too and then somehow soon after that we would kiss. maybe we’d also have lunch. no, not lunch. obviously not lunch. we’d obviously get brunch. maybe in the middle of all the kissing we’d have brunch and talk about how are past loves have ruined our ability to just simply let pop music be. and we’d laugh, and get stoned and talk about how gross coke is and then kiss some more. 

i think somewhere in there i’d have to tell him how much i love diet coke. just to be stupid. and that would be my flaw: “michelle was really perfect, like pretty perfect, but she’d always make really stupid comments in the middle of really intense conversations.” and then i’d be in a book and i would be written about in ways that made me want to kiss chuck klosterman in the first place.

i may miss the cat most of all…

i turned 27 last week and it was, if nothing else, a rather eye opening experience. 

“you can’t break out of a circle you never knew you were in” 

and suddenly the shape of the circle changes and you’re painfully aware of just how deep inside of it you are.

and it’s a great moment of realisation. my birthday wasn’t what i wanted it to be but it wasn’t bad either and it just made me realise that i’m taking the right path for the moment. for the moment it all feels really stellar.

victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats

i don’t typically do this but given the way my life seems to be headed it seems an appropriate thing to do. 

so i wanna chat about conor oberst’s solo effort conor oberst (merge 2008). i love this album. i really do. there are homage’s and little moments of loving dedication to the pioneers of americana like tom petty and bruce springsteen. 

i’m not one to really notice production but the difference between the mike mogis produced bright eyes albums and the andy lemaster/oberst production. this time around the production is cleaner, richer and the focus seems to be on the songs and their construction as opposed to capturing weird little sounds to make the songs seem like they’re trapped in an oven or wherever…  on conor oberst we hear pianos and mandolins and guitars. welcome additions. this is country music. rich and lovely. 

oberst and i come from very similar backgrounds: middle-class catholic children of the early 80s growing up in cities with money (from oil and/or farming) and from the songs on this record it appears we’re both ready for a change. we’re both hoping the road will keep all of its promises. we’re both hopeful. this album couldn’t have come at a better time for me. there really seems to be nothing the road, or a great country record, cannot heal.