OK, this is about insects, not relatives.
Woke up this morning and went downstairs, as is the wonton thing to do. Come upon an army of ants who have decided to have their morning pow-wow all over our kitchen floor and countertops. As soon as I saw them, but before Robyn did, I instinctively grabbed her and pulled her back out of close proximity before announcing their existence, hopefully staving off a more explosive reaction. A half hour of spraying and cleaning later, we can eat our breakfast in peace…in the living room. Too much poison lingering in the air just ruins my appetite.
I don’t watch them that much, but I thought I’d note one I saw yesterday. It Might Get Loud was both one of the more interesting documentaries I’ve seen, but also one of the most unfocused. They ask the question that’s surely on all our minds: if you got three well-known guitarists in a room, what would they say (and to each other)? In the end, not much, actually. Each guitarist (Jimmy Page, The (Motherfuckin’) Edge, and Jack White has their own unique personality and take on the guitar, and their stories are disparate, but with parallels. It was fun to watch and hear, but I’m not sure what message I was supposed to come away with. Jimmy Page is an adorable old British man, The Edge has a ridiculously awesome name that doesn’t really befit him (and is obsessed with guitar tech), and Jack White can make a guitar out of a piece of wood and some string (and looks like he’s a man out of his own time). Rock on.
I picked up a CD at the store today. A CD! I’ve bought every one of Pearl Jam’s studio albums on CD, and I guess I’m not about to stop. I’ve only listened to 4 or 5 songs so far, but it feels like a natural extension of their last, self-titled, one. Nothing to get too excited about, but it’s warm and familiar, like an old coat.
In the world of my own music, a 5-song EP is coming out soon. It’s all electronic tracks, with sweet beats and intense rhythms. You’ll want to, if you’re like me, bob your head up and down as they play back. It’ll be called something silly, too.
Been playing a lot of Beatles: Rock Band lately. We’ve almost unlocked everything. However, I underestimated the Beatles musicianship, as proctored by Rock Band. I never thought of any of their stuff as being overly difficult to play, but there are plenty of genuinely hard tracks for all instruments. Playing the Chapter Challenges and getting 5 stars while playing Expert is not necessarily a cake walk.
I downloaded both Bust-a-Move and Space Invaders: Infinity Gene for the iPhone recently, and I would recommend both for entirely different reasons. The former is a beloved puzzle game, faithfully recreated using touch controls. The latter is a golden oldie that I would never play had it not been blitzed and tweaked like whoa like it has been in this incarnation. The evolution from the simple Atari classic to powerups and new enemies and general craziness all to the beat of a bangin’ soundtrack just warms the cockles of my vidiot heart.
I’ve been eating way too well lately. I’m sure it’s shown in my girlish figure, but alas.
French Gourmet, Island Prime, Robyn’s homemade chicken pot pie, Sally’s Cafe (used to be Le Peep in La Jolla), tight turkey pita at Pizza Nova, and a myriad other places…it almost feels like a crime to be eating out so much and at so many good places.
FOR THE ROAD
Speaking of food, I’m hungry. Time to go join Robyn in the construction of zucchini pancakes. Breakfast for Dinner is my favorite meal.
EDIT (11:22pm): Zucchini
pancakeslatkes are dudical.