Looky, looky, who played hooky.

Yesterday I pretended Dylan was sick so I could nap and Christmas shop and get myself out of a super annoying work project. Damn, why did he have to "recover" so fast? Jerk.

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Last week my work partner asked me to write a headline for her family holiday card, which is WOW so exciting! Especially since she's preggers and wanted to use a picture of the sonogram on the front. Especially especially since the sonogram is so abstract it literally had to be labelled with arrows pointing to "head" and "body." Naturally, it turned out to be the best thing I've written all month:



Ha. That still cracks my shit up.

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Hot hipster boy gets on the train this morning and plunks himself down in front of me. He's got the requisite shaggy hair/sideburns/stubble thing going on, plus a coat that looks distinctly thifted. Kari likee. Then I heard the song he was blasting in his headphones. Dido. "White Flag." And I died a little inside.

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Wilco dude John Stirratt has a side band called The Autumn Defense, and they're playing a show Saturday night at Le Hideout. Their last full album "Circles" got big critic love but I never even heard of it 'til I stumbled across their website. They have a light semi-seventies feel which I am declaring cool because it makes me happy, in a Brady-Bunchish sort of way.

"Silence"
"Tuesday Morning"
"Why I'm Like This"

Hype-machine The M's are also on the hot list that night. Get yerself there.