Saturday, February 28, 2009
Swing, Swing
As a firm believer in the higher power that governs iPod's shuffle, I thought the following exercise would be blog-worthy but not Facebook-note-worthy, because that would just be a little too embarrassing. (Is that wrong, that I immediately assume less people will read this and those that do will know me well enough to think I'm still sort of cool after it all? Rhetorical question.)
Your music selection says a lot about you. For example, when Green Day's American Idiot sits next to Kate Perry's I Kissed a Girl and is sharing a room with 84 Chopin compositions (oh yes, classical music shopping definitely ticks that 'value for money' box), you either have ecclectic tastes or borderline schizophrenia.
Momo, don't fail me now. (Momo is my iPod's name. The set up asks for a name and Momo is way better than "Ashley's iPod" or Y:/)
I've included the instructions for authenticity and I promise I've followed the upper case text, because upper case text really scares me. My mum used to write sms' in CAPS because (she says) she didn't know how to switch to lower case but really because "COME HOME NOW" would make any sane person wet their pants - far more effective.
1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
4. Tag 10 or more friends who might enjoy doing this as well as the person you got it from.
IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Nocturne No. 8 in D-flat
ooh. snap.
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Something Stupid - Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman
That's the idea, keep them tractable. Kidding.
HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Do it alone - Sugarcult
Weng will agree I should carry that warning label or something of similar ilk 3 of 30 days.
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Flying Home - Benny Goodman
Ha! Another sign!
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Frame by frame – The Honorary Title
"Drifting through in the frame by frame, I'll walk the same path, stay the same line"
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Trouble Sleeping - Corinne Bailey Rae
Or maybe just trouble.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Kettle's On - The Feeling
I refuse to read anything into that.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
When it comes - Tyler Hilton
Yea, not much goes on in my head at the best of times.
WHAT IS 2+2?
Summertime - Sublime
English weather makes you obssessive.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Barbara Ann - The Beachboys
"you got me rockin' and a rollin', rockin' and a reelin' Barbara Ann". Wheeeee.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Run - Snow Patrol
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Hey Now Girl – Phantom Planet
Ironic.
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Creepin up the Backstairs - The Fratellis
That's ambition for you.
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
24 Preludes, Op. 28: No. 8 in F-sharp minor – Chopin
Our relationship's a lot like that.
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Stay - Lisa Loeb
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Look through my eyes - Phil Collins
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Baby, now that I've found you - Allison Krauss
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Black Balloon - The Goo Goo Dolls
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Because of you - Tony Bennett
Awwww...
HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Where or when - Rod Stewart
WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
New Soul - Yael Naim
Eh?
WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Harder to Breathe - Maroon 5
WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing - Aerosmith
WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Geek Stink Breath - Green Day
Nice.
WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
A Girl Worth Fighting For - Mulan OST
I can see this is starting to really break down.
DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
How Great Thou Art - Charlie Hall
At least one.
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Over My Head – Sum 41
WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Heard Em' Say - Kanye West
Just about everything.
WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Swing, Swing - All American Rejects
Your music selection says a lot about you. For example, when Green Day's American Idiot sits next to Kate Perry's I Kissed a Girl and is sharing a room with 84 Chopin compositions (oh yes, classical music shopping definitely ticks that 'value for money' box), you either have ecclectic tastes or borderline schizophrenia.
Momo, don't fail me now. (Momo is my iPod's name. The set up asks for a name and Momo is way better than "Ashley's iPod" or Y:/)
I've included the instructions for authenticity and I promise I've followed the upper case text, because upper case text really scares me. My mum used to write sms' in CAPS because (she says) she didn't know how to switch to lower case but really because "COME HOME NOW" would make any sane person wet their pants - far more effective.
1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
4. Tag 10 or more friends who might enjoy doing this as well as the person you got it from.
IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Nocturne No. 8 in D-flat
ooh. snap.
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Something Stupid - Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman
That's the idea, keep them tractable. Kidding.
HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Do it alone - Sugarcult
Weng will agree I should carry that warning label or something of similar ilk 3 of 30 days.
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Flying Home - Benny Goodman
Ha! Another sign!
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Frame by frame – The Honorary Title
"Drifting through in the frame by frame, I'll walk the same path, stay the same line"
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Trouble Sleeping - Corinne Bailey Rae
Or maybe just trouble.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?
Kettle's On - The Feeling
I refuse to read anything into that.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
When it comes - Tyler Hilton
Yea, not much goes on in my head at the best of times.
WHAT IS 2+2?
Summertime - Sublime
English weather makes you obssessive.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Barbara Ann - The Beachboys
"you got me rockin' and a rollin', rockin' and a reelin' Barbara Ann". Wheeeee.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Run - Snow Patrol
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Hey Now Girl – Phantom Planet
Ironic.
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Creepin up the Backstairs - The Fratellis
That's ambition for you.
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
24 Preludes, Op. 28: No. 8 in F-sharp minor – Chopin
Our relationship's a lot like that.
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Stay - Lisa Loeb
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Look through my eyes - Phil Collins
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Baby, now that I've found you - Allison Krauss
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Black Balloon - The Goo Goo Dolls
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Because of you - Tony Bennett
Awwww...
HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Where or when - Rod Stewart
WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
New Soul - Yael Naim
Eh?
WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Harder to Breathe - Maroon 5
WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing - Aerosmith
WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Geek Stink Breath - Green Day
Nice.
WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
A Girl Worth Fighting For - Mulan OST
I can see this is starting to really break down.
DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
How Great Thou Art - Charlie Hall
At least one.
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Over My Head – Sum 41
WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Heard Em' Say - Kanye West
Just about everything.
WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Swing, Swing - All American Rejects
Saturday, February 21, 2009
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Tuesday, February 17, 2009
From the moleskine: Rudy says
Rudy says*:
Blog please -_-.
I miss reading your blog.
You should blog more.
I've started blogging again.
Here's an early birthday present, a moleskine**.
You need to start writing again, get those creative muscles working.
We'll work on your portfolio when you're free...
Write, dammit.***
And so I've started again, because Rudy says, because of the overwhelming need to rant about the injustices of the world, under the influence of alcohol, on a very long bus ride home, on the verge of a quarter life crises, and because I might actually need to turn this into my next career.
I am a victim. The latest in the toll of those fallen under the crushing wave of the behemoth of a financial crisis that has engulfed the world in economic despair, panic, and many apologetic but still very wealthy bankers.
And it's not a bad thing. I mean I'm not nearly as wealthy, but we all need a reason to leave something comfortable and predictable (i.e. the next project was always going to hurt more with even less thanks, particularly in an industry that was quickly falling down around our knees and increasingly hated), be it a near death experience, unemployment, or the discontinuation of a favorite icecream flavour, so this was simply my swift kick up the ass to get a move on and find something else to get me out of bed in the morning.
Conveniently, and on some supernatural cue that's fast becoming a fixture in my Brownian-motionesque career path, Rudy's filled my head with dreams of copywriting. What is that, you ask? I didn't know either until two weeks ago, so I feel somewhat honoured that he's introduced me to what feels very much like a grown-up secret society. Part of the appeal must be in the fact that very few people actually know what copywriters do, much like my previous job. As I understand it, it has something to do with writing and hoping like hell that you get good enough at it to make a living.
It is, therefore,with great relish and excitement that I grab my shitty severance pay thankyouverymuch in my grubby little hands, shove it under my mattress (because they don't build banks like they used to) and pee into the wind of uncertainty.
*the following text has been paraphrased, condensed, and fudged for dramatic effect and want of a better introduction. It is merely a representative sample, and by no means an accurate reproduction, of the content of one the longest running themes of the daily conversations between myself and the uber-nag behind this post.
**For all of the similarly uncultured sods like myself, this beautiful but unassuming little black notebook is the stuff of history and legend, having been the much loved and used companion of artists and thinkers alike (courtesy of the little information card in the back pocket, which was likely placed there for this very specific educational purpose)
*** This one's entirely made up
Blog please -_-.
I miss reading your blog.
You should blog more.
I've started blogging again.
Here's an early birthday present, a moleskine**.
You need to start writing again, get those creative muscles working.
We'll work on your portfolio when you're free...
Write, dammit.***
And so I've started again, because Rudy says, because of the overwhelming need to rant about the injustices of the world, under the influence of alcohol, on a very long bus ride home, on the verge of a quarter life crises, and because I might actually need to turn this into my next career.
I am a victim. The latest in the toll of those fallen under the crushing wave of the behemoth of a financial crisis that has engulfed the world in economic despair, panic, and many apologetic but still very wealthy bankers.
And it's not a bad thing. I mean I'm not nearly as wealthy, but we all need a reason to leave something comfortable and predictable (i.e. the next project was always going to hurt more with even less thanks, particularly in an industry that was quickly falling down around our knees and increasingly hated), be it a near death experience, unemployment, or the discontinuation of a favorite icecream flavour, so this was simply my swift kick up the ass to get a move on and find something else to get me out of bed in the morning.
Conveniently, and on some supernatural cue that's fast becoming a fixture in my Brownian-motionesque career path, Rudy's filled my head with dreams of copywriting. What is that, you ask? I didn't know either until two weeks ago, so I feel somewhat honoured that he's introduced me to what feels very much like a grown-up secret society. Part of the appeal must be in the fact that very few people actually know what copywriters do, much like my previous job. As I understand it, it has something to do with writing and hoping like hell that you get good enough at it to make a living.
It is, therefore,with great relish and excitement that I grab my shitty severance pay thankyouverymuch in my grubby little hands, shove it under my mattress (because they don't build banks like they used to) and pee into the wind of uncertainty.
*the following text has been paraphrased, condensed, and fudged for dramatic effect and want of a better introduction. It is merely a representative sample, and by no means an accurate reproduction, of the content of one the longest running themes of the daily conversations between myself and the uber-nag behind this post.
**For all of the similarly uncultured sods like myself, this beautiful but unassuming little black notebook is the stuff of history and legend, having been the much loved and used companion of artists and thinkers alike (courtesy of the little information card in the back pocket, which was likely placed there for this very specific educational purpose)
*** This one's entirely made up
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