I am still sad, and nothing has felt interesting enough to blog about, but I figured it was time to bump the dead cat post from the top of the list.
It was suddenly a billion degrees over the weekend, and I was ill. I figured the best thing to do would be to annihilate Madagascar with Fluffy Kitten Amoebic Encephalopathy, but the only time I managed to get them, Canada screwed me over by closing its borders and developing a vaccine. Curse you, socialized medicine!
Thank goodness for New Moon filming, though. It has kept me up to my ears in lulz, despite the super secretness of the production. If you ever wondered what happened to Merry's hair from LotR, don't worry. It went to a good home.
Speaking of filming, I may have teared up. I'm not saying definitely, but it might have happened.
Monday
Easter Lily.
After a wonderful month followed by a horrible week, Lily died on Easter. Perhaps I never appreciated her well-developed sense of irony.
Wednesday
Radio woes.
Do you remember the last time I talked about radio? It turns out it was almost a year ago. But I still listen when I drive in my car! Which means that I listen to the radio at least three days a week, often more!
Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.
Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.
It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.
But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.
Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)
But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)
But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.
I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.
Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.
I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.
To make matter worse, I just saw one of those spiders in my bedroom and now I don't know where it is and it's probably going to bite me in my sleep. ... I know that part has nothing to do with radio, but COME ON. ETA: I met my enemy for a second time and succeeded in slaughtering the foul beast. Other problem still stands.
Here is my tale of woe: I may have to break up with WRXP. I may have to do this because WRXP may be turning into K-Rock.
Now, the last time I talked about K-Rock was here. At the time I was very pleased with it. Although I didn't expressly mention it, that turned out to be very short-lived. When I was in high school, I referred to K-Rock almost exclusively as "Douche Rock." On the surface I did this to annoy my guy friends who were enamored of it. In reality, it was so called because the entire station was nothing but a cesspool of bad music, casual misogyny, and obnoxious djs designed to appeal exclusively to the young male in extended adolescence. Actually, I can sum it up in two words: Howard Stern.
It was entertaining for a while, as described in my previous entry. Then they decided to trumpet their resurgence with a new ad campaign that featured mostly naked girls, inviting listeners to check out the station's online galleries, where they could surf until their hands cramped. And they expanded their 90s-based repertoire with whiny screamo.
But no matter, for I had my new radio boyfriend, WRXP, New York's Rock Experience.
Fast forward to ... I don't know, last month, maybe? K-Rock is off the air! I know! It has been replaced with a station where I can listen to all those new Britney Spears songs and actually find out what Lady GaGa sounds like, if I so choose. On the surface, this should be, if not positive news, then at least neutral-leaning-towards-positive news. I mean, I only ever listened to it if all the other stations were simultaneously playing commercials and/or U2. (Update on that, incidentally: They never fucking stopped rhapsodizing about U2, so I actually do kind of hate them now.)
But about two weeks ago, I was driving towards my home, and an ad came on, aimed at former K-Rock listeners. It promised them a new home at WRXP, as well as a familiar voice: one of the K-Rock djs would join the station, and do a ridiculously long shift in the afternoon/early-evening. Ugh. ... Ugh. I was already mildly angry from a few days prior when they had played a song by Fall Out Boy. (I think, anyway; I don't actually know what song it was, but it was whiny.)
But never let it be said that I don't give things a fair optimistic chance before deciding that I loathe them. I mean, I expected Twilight to be good. It took almost two weeks for me to write this entry.
I still don't know his name, but Christ, he's awful. The sort that thinks things are funnier when he shouts them. The sort that thinks he is desperately funny, and laughs at his own jokes to further that impression. The sort that addresses callers as "dude" and "my man." I was hoping it would abate with time and he would fit in with the tone of the other djs at the station.
Today he was giving away free tickets, in the manner that radio stations sometimes do. A woman called in, and he greeted her by saying: "Oh, a lovely female caller, hello." After telling her that she was the winner, he mimicked her excitement in an overwrought falsetto. He then told her that she was getting the tickets on a "five-finger discount" to which he then added: "That's Ebonics for 'free'." After I put my jaw back in place, I changed the station, because I'd heard enough.
I feel like I should write to the station to complain, but I don't know what to say. I hate to be one of those people who only comments to complain. But on the other hand, ever since they arrived on the airwaves, they've been billing themselves as a refreshing change from all the terrible radio New York has to offer. And up until now, they were. But there's a reason that people were looking for a change from stations like K-Rock, and dare I say, a reason K-Rock is now off the air. I am most displeased.
That was interesting.
In my dream last night, I looked up an unfamiliar word in the dictionary, and the definition therein turned out to be the actual definition of the word.
I'm fascinated by this because I didn't know the word at all until I discovered the information, at which point I was flooded with understanding. But clearly I already knew it, because the only resource I used was my own brain. I literally opened a book inside my head that contained things I know but have forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I know that I don't know that I know.
PS the word was "prosody."
I'm fascinated by this because I didn't know the word at all until I discovered the information, at which point I was flooded with understanding. But clearly I already knew it, because the only resource I used was my own brain. I literally opened a book inside my head that contained things I know but have forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I know that I don't know that I know.
PS the word was "prosody."
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