smothered in hugs

today i ran into my friend claire on the street, but since she was headed in the opposite direction we basically just said our hellos and goodbyes and i gave her a hug, with like an extra squeeze at the end. which apparently i do a lot, as claire then noted, and marla (who was with me) followed by describing as "creepy." granted, i think she was speaking of hugs in general, but the fact is that i do enjoy a good hug with a friend and don't always let people go easily. it's like, you think you're getting away? oh no, there'll be at least five more seconds of hugging, and then i'm probably going to nestle my head into your neck too (varies depending on height of course; if my head comes up to your elbow you may get a few pats on the back instead). in any case, i like hugs and once put serious thought into considering whether i'd rather get a hug or a kiss at the end of a first date.*

so, yes, what others find creepy and smarmy (perhaps justifiably) i find comforting and welcome. what is particularly ironic and annoying to me is that all of my dearest friends take marla's stance on hugs. and, of course, these are really the only people in the world that i want to hug and be hugged by, save perhaps britney spears in her downward spiral... that girl just needed a friend. anyways, so unless my mom comes to visit i am rarely hugged for months on end, leaving me so starved for this affection that i love that i end up drunkenly hugging people at parties, like a sozzled cat.

but the thing is, sometimes just beeeeeeee-ing yourself, like the genie says to Aladdin in the 1992 animated film of the same name, means coming off as slightly creepy or cheesy or corny or foolish to some people, and there's really nothing you can do about that. so to all those i love, i shall NOT apologize for hugging you! i love you. ergo, hugs. hugs for you.**

also, this is kind of a perfect opportunity to post a song by a band called smothered in hugs (like the guided by voices song) that i like called "young flare." so i will.

smothered in hugs - young flare

* barring considerations such as attraction, compatibility, and how the date itself went, my conclusions were basically as follows: hugs — comforting, yes, but perhaps a tad dispassionate. kisses — potential for passion certainly, but also for awkwardness and herpes.

** unless you like, really, really hate them and they make you hideously uncomfortable. in which case, i will respect your wishes and NOT hug you. just so you know.

then suddenly you're puking out the door with your pants around your knees

i was thinking about my theme song today. i've had this song (jason collett's "almost summer") as my theme song since i first heard it in 2006, and the truth is it's no less true to my life today than it was three years ago. or ten years ago, if it would have been possible to have heard a song from the future when i was seventeen. another truth is that, really, it should have stayed the theme song for a seventeen-year-old girl, but for some reason even though i've aged, and moved, and gone to school and worked at jobs where i don't have to wear a name tag, i'm still kinda seventeen, relationship-wise.

so you know, like occasionally i'll wonder if it's finally become time to move on from this song, if it's stopped applying to my life, if i even like listening to it anymore... and then i'll remember that incident during the summer of 08 (say) when i got way too drunk, told someone i liked them, and then promptly walked into a telephone poll.

so the song stays. or, like the dude, abides.

jason collett - almost summer

photo: marla warner

garance doré

i have to admit that my style is pretty generic. as much as i love clothes and spend a lot of time thinking about how i should dress, the truth is that i usually play it pretty safe, clothing-wise. however, in my fantasy life (or maybe i should say in one of my fantasy lives, for i have many), i'd have the great skin and style of the people featured on une fille comme moi, which is a really lovely blog from french illustrator garance doré. she posts a mix of fashion illustration and street style photos, and i think if you like clothes, or you like pictures, or if you like clothes and pictures, you should check it out. it used to just be in french, but now the posts are also translated into english. which is helpful, seeing as i took french in school for about twelve years and yet can barely speak a word of it now.

i've included some of my favourite photos below. as i'm always impressed by/secretly, corrosively jealous of people who can pull off a look that is, in essence, pretty simple without also looking boring, i would happily knock over any of these people and steal their style and their no doubt delightful parisian lives. i like croissants.






all photos property of garance doré, from www.garancedore.fr

harmonica

i have a certain fondness for the old mouth harp, for a number of reasons. here are two of them.

bob dylan - most of the time (alternate version)
(you can listen to more of tell tale signs here.)

"this is another new one."


neil young - heart of gold

faster than the speed of night

so tonight i waited in the cold at a bus stop where bus after bus would pull up, let off all of its passengers, change its sign to read "out of service," and drive away. after about half an hour (6 buses) of this bizarre bus behaviour i gave up and decided to go home rather than figure out another way to get to the bar where i was already supposed to be, ages ago, so i condensed all of the relevant information into a text message for my friend — "transit fucked, going home" — and hit send. but the explanatory nugget would not be sent. MESSAGE FAILED, MESSAGE FAILED, the phone beeped. i tried again. MESSAGE FAIL. again. MESSAGE FAIL. then i tried calling, but (perhaps unsurprisingly) CALL FAIL, CALL FAIL said the phone. so i went home to call her, and now i'm in our "living room"* eating a bag of chips and listening to songs on repeat while my roommate's cat kneads the tender inside of my arm until it turns red. it's friday night. i have no plans to go back out. could this be LIFE FAIL? it is a big bag of chips.

*current contents of "living room":
me
cat
giant television, sitting on floor
mattress and box-spring, also on floor
assorted chairs
fan
dead plant
one winter boot
empty bag of chips
jenga

fortunately, it is for moments such as this that "faster than the speed of night" exists. the video is pretty amazing too, even though it cuts out the epic last third of the song.



i'd say the dancing guitar man is worth it though.

plaid flannel shirt

i like plaid flannel shirts. my father had one that i borrowed when i was 13 and never returned. i still have it.

when i was 13 grunge was really popular and wearing a giant man's shirt perfectly normal. i have a bad feeling i might have even tied it around my waist at times. (last halloween i went as myself, aged 13 — i wore my father's shirt; a poor-boy cap (turned backwards); high-waisted, baggy, tapered black jeans; and an oversized t-shirt. it was a dreadful experiment; i felt really strange and awkward all day.)

men who wear plaid flannel shirts and have a beard make my small heart beat faster. i know that that makes it sound like i'm attracted to lumberjacks.

last fall my friend rachel threatened to attend our friend tasha's paris send-off party not in the old hollywood glamour attire we were supposed to wear but in "glamorous grunge." i actually quite like the idea of glamorous grunge and think it looks really nice when i see it on other people, even though i've yet to pull it off. it appeals to my 13-year-old self.

my 13-year-old self also really loved my so-called life (not that the 27-year-old self doesn't). since it was 1994 there was a lot of plaid flannel on that show.

oh plaid flannel shirt: nostalgic, cozy, and kind of a turn on.

bon iver, for emma, forever ago

i've been listening to this album a lot lately after it was recommended to me by a friend. it's rather mopey (come to think of it, so is the friend) but such music is always helpful to have on hand, especially when you're prone to days and nights of melancholy. i usually put a song on repeat and lay curled up on my bed. then later on i reset the play count in itunes so that no one will know that i listened to one song 50 times in one night. we all have our hobbies.

you can listen to the whole album here; my favourite song is "re: stacks," and it's right here.
bon iver - re: stacks

there's also a really cute video of bon iver accompanying lykke li on her song "dance dance dance" if you'd prefer something less gloomy.

you're swinging around in the evening, humming someone else's tune

two hours traffic are an indie band from charlottetown who play lovely, sunny, perfect pop. i really like them.

i chose this video because it has the most close-ups of their adorably awkward lead singer, liam. i got to shake his hand once after a show. this was really exciting for me as i have a small (huge) crush on him. in addition to his musical talents he has really widely spaced eyes, like a hammerhead shark, or peter sarsgaard.



my favourite song is "sure can start," and you can listen to it here if you like.
two hours traffic - sure can start