Zaphod Beeblebrox

Zaphod Beeblebrox = bad flashbacks.

Okay … Go!
AKA: Stream-of-consciousness

Thanks to slbechtel for solving the This American Life mystery ... it seems the much sought-after song is "Invincible" by OK Go.

I shoulda remembered. OK Go is Chicago-based, have quite a history with TAL, and have also written the opening theme for Odyssey, another locally produced NPR show.

I was introduced to them through TAL and friend Benjie, who wrote this about them a couple years ago.

And while I've derided their "You're So Damn Hot" lyrics on Foster's copy of the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy soundtrack, I have to admit their music is quite catchy.

I was a little worried I'd be handing in my music-snob creds if I bought their stuff, but Benjie likes them. Benjie's a pretty good arbiter of musicianship, except for that college flirtation with Nelson. It was Nelson, right Rob? Didn't we sabotage his alarm clock to play Nelson when he woke up? (Are you even reading, Rob? Because your blog has been neglected, lately. Frankenstein, or Dracula, or whatever monster it was, is gone.)

Speaking of Benjie, who I haven't seen in a year, we're getting together for Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy next weekend. Woo hoo! I have a fellow geek to accompany me!

For $26 I got …

• More excellent Thai food than I could possibly eat, including iced coffee, tom kha soup, spring rolls, tofu salad, shrimp patties, three-flavor red snapper, garlic prawns, yellow curry, spinach-noodle and pad thai.

• The chance to spend time with two new friends, one newer friend and two newest friends, one of whom is actually acquainted with the magazine for which I work.

• The undying respect of said friends for a prank in which I participated in college. (Probably the only prank I've ever been in on in my life.)

• A huge amount of peanut-butter, chocolate and peanut-butter-cup ice cream that I could barely finish.

• A newfound appreciation for freight trains.

• The very surreal experience of walking the streets of the small suburb where I live with good friends who live here as well, the type of extraordinary folks I would have never expected to discover here.

• At least three new restaurant recommendations.

Ira Glass is a tease… and other stories.

I live in Chicagoland, so not only do I get to hear Ira Glass on "This American Life," but also during our twice-annual pledge drive. During our most recent membership drive (to which I contributed), Ira Glass played his current favorite song to make a point that contributors are "Invincible."

I'm sure he mentioned the band responsible for the song. I'm sure I'd heard of it. It's a faux-heavy-metal pop song, with rather silly lyrics like "when they finally come to destroy the earth, they'll have to deal with you first .... blah blah blah ... you're invincible" and "invincible" is screamed with much enthusiasm.

I heard it, liked it, and forgot about it. Until last night, when I was listening to "This American Life" and the bandless, nameless song was interspersed between the first and second acts. Now I'm obsessed. I've done a Google search on the lyrics I know (above). I checked the "This American Life" Web site to see if they've posted the segments and music (they sometimes do). Not yet.

Ira, please, save me from this insanity and tell me who sings this song.

Also, I heard back from my new beta-reader. She's British and so she's correcting my (numerous) Americanisms (granted, I asked her to) and also being quite thorough in her critiques of my voice and characterization (I also asked for this). She made a lot of corrections to and suggestions on my third chapter.

I'm finding my journalistic tendencies of beating people over the head with the facts hard to break ... I'm finding I'm not so good at nuance or subtlety. But perhaps I will be at the end of this fifteen-chapter exercise, perhaps I'll find myself a better writer of fiction.

Here's hoping.

The Tonksification has begun …

My hairstylist said "yes" to putting big streaks of fucshia in my hair this summer.

On reunions …

This year is my ten-year high school reunion. I'm not going. Mostly because my best friends were either a couple years ahead of me or a year behind me, and those I've cared to stay in touch with — I have.

I saw a billboard for the new VW Jetta on my way home from work and the ad copy said "Just in time for your ten-year reunion."

I've never felt so much like a demographic.

Today at work I ran into someone I dated about four years ago. He's happily married and bald now. I have funkier hair than I used to and am happier with my singleness. I'm a lot more confident, too. He made a positive comment on my appearance, which struck me as funny because he never had anything to say about my apperance when we were going out. He asked about my love life. I said "It's non-existent." He said I gave him a funny look when he asked.

What did he expect? We went out for about eight months, he went off and got married, and then the first time I run into him, he asks after my love life?

I went back to my desk, giggling. It was rather funny. But overall, it was a rather affirming interaction. I remember being horribly self-conscious around this man four years ago. Today, I am someone I wouldn't have recognized then. I'm confident enough to celebrate that it's 100 days until the release of Half-Blood Prince like the true fangirl I am, I feel beautiful in my own body, and I am comfortable enough with the past to chuck an old whatever on the shoulder, smile, and ask how married life is treating him.

So, ten years after high school and four years after dating this guy, I still drive the same car. It's starting to rust, and I've put some significant money into its repair. There are green Mardi Gras beads on the rearview mirror from my friend Kevin, and Harry Potter sits on the dashboard. It's been driven by two boyfriends and one good friend (who broke the driver's side lock, now repaired).

I'm one of those twenty-somethings who drives an old sports car because I can't stand to give it up. I wouldn't trade it for a new Jetta for the world.