Hello, Interblag. I'm still around and still alive, but barely. My sleep schedule has been completely fucked. It started a couple weekends ago, with my Epic Formatting Excel Tables in InDesign Adventures, and all of last week was Balls-Out Crazy at work + Extra Balls Out Crazy With Friends, since a bunch of beloved out-of-towners descended on Portland all at once. Last week = no sleep for Candy.
But enough about my sleep schedule, fascinating though it is. A small selection of what's been rattling around my brain pan lately, none of them especially profound:
- I've been listening to a lot of Iggy Pop/Iggy and the Stooges in recent days, and it struck me anew how fucked up the mixes are for some of their songs. OK, just one song. I'm talking about "Search and Destroy." The big, glorious, crunchy guitars are relegated to a muted buzz in the background; the lead guitar sounds screechy, with way too much mid-tone; Iggy's voice is muffled and subdued; and the drums are heard, but not felt
. It sounds tinny, which isn't a good sound for most songs, much less a song about anger, alienation, disenchantment and nuclear escalation.
Despite all these problems, the song still rocks out with its cock out. I just feel frustrated and antsy when I listen to it, because I keep wanting it to sound bigger and fuller and louder, but it doesn't, it just stays tinny. Anyone else feel the same way?
I wonder if there exists a better mix for this song (for reference, the version I have comes from Raw Power
)--one that explodes from the speakers the way it's meant to. I'm guessing odds are low, but hey, can't hurt to ask.
- I played croquet for the first time today. My neighbors from across the way busted out their set, and as the time passed, more and more people joined until about half the population of the complex (i.e. six people) were whacking little wooden balls around, laughing and cussing good-naturedly because a) none of us are especially good, and b) the lawn is extremely bumpy and shaggy.
- David Hasselhoff has an autobiography out. It's entitled Don't Hassel the Hoff
. I just can't make that kind of shit up, good people of Internetlandia.
A choice quote from the book description:
As this fascinating memoir reveals, there’s more to this handsome superstar than great hair, and legs that look good while running down a beach. "The Hoff" is also a smart, caring man with a huge heart.
Pure gold. Sarah and I are fighting to see who gets to review this. She wants me to do it; I want her to have the honors. This could get ugly.
- Almost ten years after buying my copy of Neil Gaiman's Stardust
, I got around to reading it, and am now thoroughly in love with it and the universe. For the first time in a long, long time, I wish a fictional universe were real.
- Tomorrow: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
with a very good friend of mine whom I haven't seen since the beginning of the year, and then semi-secret Awesomeness afoot later in the night. Whee.