xoxo or Brummy's Mix 2

Why is Ashleigh Brummer the coolest roommate ever?

WHY?

The following is the mix she made me for my birfffffday.

P.S. birfffffday is NEVER an appropriate substitute for birthday. Just sayin'.

1. SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES - HONG KONG GARDEN

2. THE MAGNETIC FIELDS - I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY BOYFRIEND3. LA ROUX - BULLETPROOF4. PHOENIX - LISZTOMANIA (YUKSEK REMIX)5. MEN - OFF OUR BACKS (PEGASE REMIX)6. MSTRKRFT ft. JOHN LEGEND - HEARTBREAKER7. NOW, NOW EVERY CHILDREN - EVERYONE YOU KNOW8. ANIMAL COLLECTIVE & VASHTI BUNYAN - I REMEMBER LEARNING HOW TO DIVE9. BAT FOR LASHES - DANIEL10. PASSION PIT - SLEEPYHEAD (LANDAU 'WAKE UP' REMIX)11. FLORENCE & THE MACHINE - BETWEEN TWO LUNGS12. HOT CHIP & PETER GABRIEL - CAPE COD KWASSA KWASSA13. CLARE & THE REASONS - EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD14. LITTLE JOY - THE NEXT TIME AROUND15. CAMERA OBSCURA - THE LAST SONG16. FRANK & NANCY SINATRA - SOMETHIN STUPID17. BEACH HOUSE - D.A.R.L.I.N.G.18. JUNIOR BOYS - DULL TO PAUSE19. LOW - CALIFORNIA20. PORTISHEAD - THE RIP21. GRIZZLY BEAR - TOO LITTLE TOO LATE (JOJO COVER)

Thanks, Rich Balling.

I'm probably going to buy this book immediately. Or at least save some pennies till it happens... maybe then I'll also spring for the sequel to this collection.

THIS BOOK guarantees my place amongst the skinny jeans clad in indie heaven... according to Dallan.

Maybe I should just keep making posts like this, hinting wish list type paraphernalia, since Christmas is coming up and all...

in four months.

this is how I spent my summer vacation

Summer is...

finding ants in your sun-dried hair after laying on the hot cement to warm your bones post cold swimming pool excursions.

I should have married into the Henson family.

NEWS FLASH
The Jim Henson Company is in pre-production for the movie version of
"Fraggle Rock" and a sequel to "The Dark Crystal".

Check it.

MTV Movies Blog

""Fraggle Rock"? Happening.
"The Power of the Dark Crystal"? Happening.
When? Soon. How soon? No clue."
-Adam Rosenburg

Thanks Nate B.

Now my life is complete.

The last of the old school buddies.

My wonderful friend Halee Young-Ballash found out about my abdominal strife (ughhhhh... appendix... why did you have have to leave me so........) so she wrote me a most pleasing letter via email. This isn't just ANY pleasing letter via email. This was a pleasing letter via email WITH 10 QUESTIONS. I felt like a missionary... wait... let me explain... I'd always write my LDS Missionary boys long long long lovely letters with 10 random questions enclosed, thus giving them a break from the mission-ideology, but with a condition that they had to ask me 10 questions right back. It kept the letters long, but memorable. Maybe I should dig some of those out of the depths of my closet...

The moral of this story is that Halee rocked my invalid world. I basically just love that girl.

I want you to really FEEL the experience of this question/answer game. Thus, my answers will be in normal lettering and HaLEE's questioning spirit will be expressed in italics.

Halee's Letter:
(Insert witty yet personal family details... la la la la la... I'm sure she'd prefer me to leave those out...)

Ok... and out of story mode on to "I'm bored with story mode and prefer another mode" mode.

Claire, tell me a story about your love life. Do you realize that the last I heard, you were almost simultaneously (that's the way it plays in my mind anyway) dating an 18 year old pre-missionary and some boy who lived in New York. I am so out of the loop! You have been out there in dating land for what, 3 years, since I heard anything new about your love-life. So, tell me how it goes?

(insert a long drawn out stories of my famous conquests, adventures in slumming, and yes, even my more boring dating experiences will be related and analyzed to the "WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME" extent)

Also, Answer these ten questions for me: (Feel free to ask me ten of your own as well when you're through) 1. What is your favorite time of day or night? Why?

TWILIGHT. Duh. Who doesn't like to be reminded DAILY of the remarkable pop-culture sensation that has hit America.. and apparently Europe (remind me to dig out my photo from a marketplace in Spain.. that book was everywhere).

2. How many skeletons are in the average closet?

I believe that in time every single skeleton in America will one day feel accepted enough to just open the closet door, and just step out into the sunlight.

The skeletons will come out. The closets of yesteryear will be just a thing of the past.

Come out, dear skeletons. Come out, and embrace what you truly are!

3. If you were locked in a room with a TV that only tuned to one channel, which channel would you watch and why?

It would be a channel of myself watching the TV. It'll be such a circular activity, that finally I'll go crazy.. and then everything will finally make sense.

4. How many pets do you currently own?

I have a ghost kitty that follows me around sometimes.

5. Where will you be taking your next vacation?

Oh... so this week of bed-rest doesn't count as a "vacation"?

Multiple choice: 6. If you married a famous man which of these three options would he be: a. A famous race car driver b. A famous scientist c. A famous ventriloquist (You'll note that I purposefully left off musician and artist (too easy))

Ok. This is how it's gonna work: My FIRST husband is, of course, going to be a dashing adventurous type. Thus, the Scientist will come into existence... aka. Dr. Jones. I'm talking Indiana. Then... after a tragic misadventure involving Nazis and sacred artifacts, I'll tragically be left widowed and venerable enough for the famous ventriloquist to finally make his move. Of course the puppet will someday choke THAT husband to death... or was it that my husband choked the puppet to death (they had issues (I don't think paying the puppet all that romantic attention was a such great idea))... basically, the pair off them off one another, forcing me into the lap of lonely luxury (FABULOUS life insurance policy plus the stipend from the hit ventriloquism fan club dues). Finally, I'm able to attract my gold-digger race car driver boyfriend, and being the cougar that I KNOW I'm gonna be, I'll be perfectly at ease in this young hottie guy/older slightly decrepit yet attractive women scenario.

7. You have to date a guy with one of the following characteristics. Which do you choose and why? a. Incredibly hairy b. Somewhat moley c. Not at all funny

A. Incredibly hairy. I really love a man that can rock both corn-rows and a french braid somewhere on his body.

Fill in the blanks: 8. The best kind of melons are _____________ melons.

Blind Melon-s. You know how I'm a sucker for 90's rock bands. More specifically, Blind Melon-s that existed from 1989 to 1995, and ceased with the death of lead vocalist Shannon Hoon shortly after the release of the band's second album (The band reformed with a new lead vocalist, Travis Warren in 2006. However, Warren announced his departure from the band on November 6, 2008. The band continue to search for a new vocalist. Hooray Wikipedia).

9. The first thing I notice on a guy is his __________.

Scarf.

Maybe I'm a hipster.

NEW, YET GENERIC FILLER ANSWER - His eyes. Yeah. That's it. The eyes.Because... The eyes are the window to the soul... Yeah.

10. I remember when Halee and I ___________________________.

Lived in an opium den.

Wait, no... I could do better... ummm . . . I remember when Halee and I were on opposing sides of a massive gang battle. Sharks (me) vs Jets (Halee). It didn't turn out well, even though most the gang members had a background of jazz and ballet.

Better answer #2 - I remember when Halee and I moved a mattress through my tiny apartment all the while talking in 'Teen Girl Squad' voices. It really impacted my life as an adult.

Hopefully this little email can entertain you for a while. I love and miss your cute, appendix-less, face! Love, Halee

Oh Halee, Thank you for the post-op entertainment.

I adore you.

febre da cabine

"That Fiend! That louse!" or Tales of My Appendectomy

It happened.

It finally happened.

My body has finally turned the occasional rebellion (of nausea and tummy aches), into what it always has been threatening to do.

My body has started a war.

Not just any war, but one that will go down in the history books as the battle to end all battles, a mêlée to end all mêlées (I really just wanted to type mêlée... twice), and the fight to end all fights, of the most ghastly and horrific proportions.

A great and terrible war was waged inside my little girl body this last weekend. Fortunately for all of you, my beautiful friends, diligent readers, and insane stalkers, I won this war, and lived to spin this dreadful tale... but really only because my mother and the lovely staff of the Alta View Hospital made me.

I was tricked into surgery.

The nice surgeon plucked the offending organ (if it really can even be called an organ) out of my body last Friday evening. Previous to this fine day of surgery, I had plans to go out dancing that Friday evening, to spend a beautiful night of this waning summer in the company of my frivolous friends and boys who probably would ask me for my number. Unfortunately for my dancing shoes and phone number, my plans were swiftly ruined by my treacherous appendix.

Thursday night.
I was enjoying a fine post-Sonic Youth evening in the company of Gossip Girl, imported Chocolate, and a hunky 1/2 Tongan, when my stomach decided to hate me. This happens A LOT (just ask B) so I really thought nothing of it.

Friday morning.
I woke up to go to my Anatomy/Physiology class, but found that I was probably not going to live through the morning (I'm dramatic, so sue me), so I moaned to my mommy to come get me from Provo, because driving myself in this state of angst 30 minutes north didn't seem like a fun option for me. She couldn't immediately come pick me up, so I made it to class for the top-o-the-mornin' quiz, then struggled out of class and into the wide open halls of UVU to plead for a ride north. Thankfully, I didn't pass out on the floor in front of the dance rooms until I got a hold of my dear friend Fish, who promised to come immediately to my rescue. After my stint at licking the hallway floor, I shook myself into a more conscieous manner and crawled out to the grass outside to await pickup. I couldn't walk. That should have been my first sign of that the war had begun.

So darling Andrew Fishkins trundeled me off to my mother's home, who immediately ran me into the Instacare, WHICH USUALLY IS NOT MY FAVORITE WEEKEND HANG OUT SPOT (every single time I go there, they draw blood or stick needles in me. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. It's like they can't resist the draw of my sticky red goo). There the battle progressed as follows: urine test (fun!), stomach x-ray (fun fun! My first hospital gown experience of the day!), blood work (didn't I JUST tell you this would happen?), IV drip (FUN FUN FUN!). Then the delightful people at that medical institution decided that NO, I didn't have the flu, nor was I just constipated (funny), but I needed to go to an actual hospital for more tests. More specifically, that I needed a cat scan. In my pain killer induced state (did I mention how awesome that IV drip actually was??? Those suckers aren't just for massive dehydration, people...) I asked my mother how many cats would actually be thrown at me. Yes. I'm blaming the pain killers.

Friday late-afternoon.
I hate Crystal Lite. I especially hate Crystal Lite which is mixed with iodine. I especially especially hate Crystal Lite mixed with iodine that I have to drink large quantities of in order to get a cat scan. Why they make you do this... I'll never know. There aren't enough old issues of Seventeen magazine in a waiting room that can you though a bottle of ol' crystal iodine. I don't care what the vintage is...

(2nd hospital gown experience for the day)
I kinda like cat scans. I got to hold my arms above my head while the machine moved me back and forth beneath the scanner. I kept a constant silent scream in my head, and pretended that this was all just a really exciting roller coaster ride. Also, the guy running the cat scan thought I was under 100 lbs. I might have given him my number... not sure exactly... the pain killers were still running rampid.

Ma mere had to take off to handle a family situation (aka. make sure her other prodigy hadn't killed each other yet), so I was alone for the period of time that my doctors were all deliberating what was to be done with me. I mostly just sat in the waiting room and read Seventeen magazine (OMG. Leggings aren't pants Lindsay!) and waited for my mother to come back and get me, because in my mind there was no way I was getting surgery that day. That thought hadn't even crossed my mind. The doctors informed that my appendix was pretty enflamed, but I hadn't the slightest what that really meant. Those pain killers were doing their job quite well, and I was pretty sure that those blood suckers had gotten enough of my red human goo to satisfy them till next time I drop by. I was pretty ready to just go home with a perscription for an antibiotic.

BUT THEN, I was escorted to surgery. I was made to fill out papers and to basically check into the hospital, which is when it hit me- I was checking into the hospital. I asked the ladies at the front desk what was going on... and they were mostly just shocked that no one had spelled it out for the little tiny thing (they thought I was 18... awesome) crying in front of them.

I was getting my appendix removed... and that was that.

You know how this ends.

Anyone wanna see the laparoscopy photos?