I wish that I believed in fate. I wish I didn't sleep so late.

My sleep schedule has been all messed up for the last couple weeks. I mean it's never what you would call normal, because I work from 3 p.m. to midnight. On a good night I'll go to bed at 2 a.m. and wake up at 10 a.m. It's really easy for that to slip, though.

Lately I've been sleeping 3 to 11 then 4 to noon. Last night I didn't get to bed until after 5 a.m. I remember when Josh worked nights, I used to see that he was still awake when I got up for work at 7 a.m. Sometimes he would stay up all night. I thought it was crazy at the time, but now I could see that happening to me as well.

I choose to blame my sleeping on some good books I've been reading lately. I want to stay up and finish them, but I hate waking up so late. Even if I don't have anything to do, getting up at noon makes me feel like an unemployed slob. So tonight I'm resetting the clock!

I'm going to go to bed at a decent hour and I'm waking up at 10 a.m. even if it kills me. It will take lots of coffee and I'll be grumpy all week but I really need to start seeing more than a few hours of daylight. It's time to find out what morning looks like.

Favorite Song of the Week:
"Blitzkrieg Bop" by The Ramones - I just got No Thanks! The '70s Punk Rebellion from the library and I've been working my way through the evolution of punk. "Blitzkrieg Bop" is the first song on the four disk collection and it's really fun to listen to. Too bad it's a commercial now. Isn't that what happens to all great songs?

You gotta know when to hold 'em

I just got back from a rousing night of Texas Hold 'Em at my friend Leigh's house. I'm proud to say that even though I've only played poker once before, I came in third out of ten people. I went home with $10 which isn't bad considering everyone only put in $5 to begin with.

Everything I know about Texas Hold 'Em I learned from watching Celebrity Poker Showdown. I actually started watching it because I'm in love with Dave Foley. Sometimes I really miss News Radio.

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I haven't been posting much because I've been reading a new Elvis Costello biography all weekend. There are some musicians whom I want to know all about the second I hear their stuff and others that I would rather not know anything about. I think it has to do with how personal the music is to me.

For example, I immediately wanted to know more about The Beatles when I started listening to them. I loved their music but I also felt it was very indicative of a time I didn't know much about. Their stuff was as much about history to me as any personal relationships I might have with their songs.

On the other hand, I've never had much interest in learning more about R.E.M. Several of their albums captured my life perfectly at the time they were released. In my mind, the songs were all about me and knowing the reasons why they wrote them just would have ruined it.

So for a long time Elvis Costello has fallen into that latter category. I knew some of the broad strokes of his history but I wasn't interested in reading intricate descriptions of the inspirations for every tune. This new book came highly recommended, though, so I thought I'd check it out. It's been a fun read so far. I had no idea how huge a star he was in the late seventies and how close he came to being a giant star, up there with Springsteen or Bowie. I also knew he was sort of an asshole when he was younger, but I never knew what a crazy drug-addled super asshole he was. I've only made it to 1981 in the book so I don't think he's going to mellow out anytime soon. I still love him anyway.

Tippy's not this cool

Maggie sent me a link to a great web site today. It's called Stuff On My Cat and it's filled with awesome photos of cats with stuff on them. Maybe they have a picture of Josh's cat Stripey with the queen!

Coldwho?

Coldplay had a sold-out show at Riverbend tonight, but nobody I work with has heard of them. It's crazy! One guy asked me who was comparably famous that he might have heard of so he could decide how big they are. I couldn't think of anyone. It's not because Coldplay is so amazingly famous or anything, I just couldn't think of another (recent) band that has gotten so big after just three albums. Any ideas?

MidPoint, again

It's just about six weeks until the MidPoint Music Festival in Cincinnati and I'm already getting excited. This year they'll have 300 bands and the conference is going to be at the Contemporary Arts Center. Sweet. Jeff signed up to volunteer today so I'm going to bug everyone else in the greater Cincinnati area to do so as well. If you love music, you won't be disappointed.

The one thing that is slightly disappointing, however, is the state of Main Street itself. Clubs have been closing all year. Some have reopened but the area isn't nearly as popular as it used to be. I have to admit that I don't get down there as often as I should. I went to Crush on Saturday, though, and I had a great time. A lot of the clubs are really fun and I'd hate to see the place disappear.

Favorite Song of the Week:
"I'm In The Mood Again" by Elvis Costello - I know we're back to Elvis but I think I just discovered this song the other day. It's the last track on the syrupy and sentimental album, North, and I'm usually in a coma by the time I get to the end. My iPod rescued me by playing this tune on random. It has a great old time feeling. I couldn't believe it was something Elvis wrote. It makes me want to move to New York and fall in love "away from the mad-hatters who live in Manhattan" just like those chicks on Hooking Up.

D.C. is full of bull

One day I came into work to find a boxing cow sitting on my desk. You know those boxing nun puppets? It was just like that except a cow. I loved it instantly.

There's a mystery surrounding the boxing cow, though. I don't know where it came from. I asked all the usual suspects but they denied any knowledge as to its origins. So I guess that also makes it a magical boxing cow.

When my friend Melvin got a job at the Washington Post, I felt it was time for the cow to move on. Melvin always loved the cow even more than I did. I gave it to him as a going away gift with the stipulation that he take the cow to work. I liked the idea that the Post would have a boxing cow in its newsroom.

So now I bring you photographic proof. I know it's a small photo (damn camera phones) but there is the cow at the Washington Post. Now, my life is complete!

Poor little piggies

That's it, I need new gym shoes. I should have recognized this long ago when Carson from Queer Eye said you should get new gym shoes every 6 months. I find that a little hard to believe (and expensive) but I've had these shoes for about 3 years now and they're finally starting to turn on me.

When I was up in Minnesota, I wore them when Josh and I walked to Campaneros for dinner. It was a good little hike but nothing too outrageous. By the time I got back, though, I had a nice blister on the top of my toe. A crease in my show kept rubbing my toe as we walked.

I normally treat old shoes that give me blisters like family pets that bite you. Once they've gotten mean like that, they have to be put down. But these shoes I decided to give a second chance.

When I go to the gym, I usually run a mile or two but today (and Jeff will be happy to know this) I went for a full 5k. My goal is to actually run a real race that is outside and everything but I think I need to get my time down from the 40 minutes it took me today.

Anyway, I just got home, and that blister that had healed is right back in the same place again. This is the last straw. It's gonna be llike shooting Old Yeller but the shoes have to go.

If anyone is feeling generous, I'm now looking for a pair of New Balances in a women's size 8 (just so you know).

Stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it

When I was a little kid, I remember listening to a conversation my parents were having during one of our endless road trips. They were talking about a guy who got in a car accident and flipped his car over on some remote road. The engine was still running but he couldn't move, so the tape he had in his stereo played on a continuous loop for several hours until he was rescued.

This image seared itself into my young mind and ever since then I've had the same thought when I put a CD in my car stereo. Is this the album I'm prepared to listen to over and over again as I wait to be rescued from an overturned car? Most of the time I'm pretty sure I could survive hearing an album for 12 hours or so, but what if it happens on the day I decide to dig out that old Collective Soul CD that's been sitting in the bottom of my collection? I like to give bad music a second chance now and then, but am I prepared for that sort of trauma?

Honestly, being rescued by paramedics who found me losing my mind to Sugar Ray would be like not having clean underwear on ... except worse.

I guess that's a chance I'm willing to take. I have to give new music (and bad, old music) a try now and then. I call it living life on the edge!

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In other news, blogs are springing up around me right and left. I like to consider myself the fertile manure that has nurtured this growth in blogdom. I'm warm and soft and deer won't eat me.

In case you missed the announcement on the comments section, my friend Josh (who figured so prominently in my vacation photos) has started his very own blog as well. You can visit him here or check him out from the links section. He loves it when people check him out.

Do they have an AARC?

So Tippy is now officially old. He was out of cat food yesterday so I went to the store and purchased some Science Diet Senior formula for him. That's right, senior. It's made for cats seven and older and according to my calculations, he turned seven a few months ago. I wouldn't have put him on senior right away like this except the lite food he's on hasn't made him slim and trim. I thought I'd see what the senior stuff would do.

Tippy and I are now planning to drive across the country in an RV. We'll stop at Luby's for dinner every evening no later than 4:30 and we'll be sure to ask if there's a senior discount wherever we go. We'll complain a lot about "kids these days" too. Hey, if Trevor can be old, so can I. At least I have a senior cat to take care of.

Picture perfect

I just got the new Nick Hornby book, A Long Way Down, from the library. I'm a huge Nick Hornby fan and this book seems like it will be o.k., too. What bothers me is what is on the back of the book.

I think I've read almost all Hornby's stuff but it never occurred to me that I hadn't seen a picture of him. I could have sat next to him on a plane or spilled a drink on him at bar and been none the wiser. My new book from the library, however, comes with a handy little color photo of the author right on the inside back cover.

WHOOAAA!

I didn't think he was a supermodel or anything but this photo of Hornby is nothing like I expected him to be. I just imagined more of a frustrated rock star look. This is more of a Moby look. I guess the biggest shock isn't how he looks but how different he looks than the image I had in my head.

This always happens to me at job interviews, too. You know, you talk to someone on the phone a few times then suddenly you're flying out for an official interview. When I first meet the mysterious phone person I always have to make sure I have a neutral expression on my face. They NEVER look the way I imagine and I don't want to look too shocked. Maybe I'm just bad at this but I'm guessing that I'm not the only one. At least I hope so.