sophcw at gmail dot com
Scrape your knee, it's only skin.
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(yeah, I’m cool)
So… I hope you are having a fabulously wonderful time at hippy circus camp. I miss you already, which isn’t very surprising since I talk to you nearly every day and see you almost that much. I have no one to tell about various music related events in my life!! (Besides my brother… lame.) No amazing shows to tell you about, Justice is playing at Mezzanine, and I think that is a 21 and older only venue, right? Btw, I got to hang out with Aman, he is pretty um… sweet. “You know, I’m the one who told Zoe about Justice in the first place.” I laughed.
Anyway…. Yeah. Various other amusing things… ummm… my second radio show is coming up on Sunday!! I’m recording all of them, so you can listen to it at a later date if you so choose. The Decemberists played a secret show in Austin (fucking Texas) that was like amazingly awesome and made me cry inside. The videos and recording from their LA philharmonic thing are pretty sweet too.
Oh! This is pretty awesome news! I have a scheme to talk to John Darnielle! So I have to help with the recording of this show at the radio station called “Go Vegan” that is actually broadcasted nationally on Air America. So it’s a pretty big deal. And John Darnielle would be like the perfect guest on that show with his crazy animal activism and all. So I emailed the person who hosts the show to try to convince him to get JD to come on… because obviously that would basically complete my life to talk to him for like one second even…
So anyway, enough ranting about my love of John Danielle (and Andrew Bird, and Zach Condon and….)…. Now to ranting about Harry Potter! The movie was pretty good… I liked it a lot more than the 4th one, even though Harry has a shitty haircut…. I would say I’ll see it with you when you get back, but Garrett is like waiting to see it with you (*barf* haha). Btw, Rachel and Nick are not going out. It’s a long story. Mandy and I have a bet about HP7…. If Ron dies, I get 3 dollars. It’s pretty cool, but I just randomly bet that, I have no idea if I will be right or not.
The rest of my life is kind of unamusing. I need to work a ton on summer homework in the next few weeks… ew. Can’t wait to see you when you get back!
PS: Just so you know what you’re missing on TMT, here’s a quote from today “But seriously, if I could say anything to the major record labels, it would be to sue your own dumb asses. Carrie Underwood sucks. You suck. Go bankrupt, you corrupt pieces of fucking bullshit!” Haha, they are awesome.
Twiggy in ’60s fashion.
Model in a red velvet dress for Vogue, 1959.
When’s Mad Men coming back again?!
“There are roughly three New Yorks.
There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and turbulence as natural and inevitable.
Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.
Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last—the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high-strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from Italy to set up a small grocery store in a slum, or a young girl arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company.”
— E.B. White, Here is New York
[photo via All Things Amazing, photographer unknown]
Even in 1954, life was hard for music nerds.
Village Hipster - 1950s pulp fiction.
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