Thursday, May 21, 2009


I never watch tv when it's actually tv (except LOST, because, well, because its LOST). I generally don't see a show until I can rent or download entire seasons and then watch them all in one go. I'm doing this currently with How I Met Your Mother. Not the greatest show ever made (the laugh track in sitcoms feels akward to me after watching so many great comedies that don't have it, like Arrested Development or The Office), but it has its moments. The plot is often better than the jokes, and the little mystery surrounding the ultimate romance keeps you coming back. At any rate, I just watched this, and had one of those heart-lurches that seem so infrequent these days.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

it's beautiful, and so are you

I found this really amazing site that I think everyone should join in on.

Basically it's an online community where people create playlists (you can chose from a network of songs, or upload any that aren't already there).

And that's it.

You can follow people, like twitter (except it's not pointless, trivial, and narcissistic), share, and comment on each other's creations. Pretty sweet, if you ask me. I just wish there were more of my friends on this site. So anyone who reads this should join, right now. It is time consuming, since you cannot see what is coming next until it is playing, and they only allow you to skip a few tracks in a certain time frame, but it's still so worth it.

I made this mix tonight because, for some reason, I was thinking about one night in San Francisco, sitting in Cory's dorm room, the lights were out and we were all lying around in the candlelight, doing nothing, barely even speaking, just listening. There were many tunes played that night, but I remember one in particular: Led Zeppelin's That's The Way. It had probably been a solid thirty minutes since any of the half-a-dozen-or-so people strewn about the room had said anything, but during that song Cory sort of softly muttered, "I cried my eyes out the first time I heard this song." This comment received a few muffled sighs and "yeah, I know's" and the music continued, each of us feeling a little bit closer to one another.

Cory has always been my numero-uno compadre (a little tribute to cinco de Mayo there) when it comes to sharing music. And it's been a slew of moments exacly like that one that have made me understand Cory as much as I do, and have given weight to the friendship I will always share with him; we've spent hours and hours staring off into itunes visualizers, going back and fourth chosing songs, or driving around aimlessly in the middle of the night repeatedly entering and ejecting CD's, or leaving the bars on Caroline Street to head over to his parked car, throwing the windows down, and having parking lot dance parties, or, like now, sadly, phone conversations consisting of "Hey, have you heard this?'s". And all of those small moments absorbed in someone else's art has created something of unparallelled understanding and compassion.

Case in point: music is communal, and divine, and... oh goodness, so much more.