Zing.

When you are engulfed in essays.

Take any former white hat wearing i-banker you seen on the street (like that one over there), spout off an insulting remark about Dave Matthews Band (I hear "Typical Situation" is about litter box odor), and you will most likely get some defensive response about how they were listening to Remember Two Things before anyone else knew how to trip a billy. Or whatever.

That is kind of like my love for David Sedaris... at least I would like to think. Although I only faintly remember his SantaLand Diaries on NPR, my friends and I were plowing through his essays in high school when everyone else was reading the TV Guide description of the next Dawson's Creek episode. And while my adolescent dorkdom resulted in a few too many practices I'd rather not divulge, I am proud of our foresight and good taste.

By the time he came to Omaha my junior year of college, I already felt akin to him, even though he wouldn't know me from adam or any of the 300 college students clamoring to have their copies of Naked signed. (Or cookies. My friend Keith, not having a book with him, instead presented DS with a stale chocolate chip frisbee from Java Jay, which he graciously signed.)

During my last game of Run and Buy a Book from the Borders By the Bus Stop Before the Bus Comes, I bought "When You Are Engulfed in Flames" and finished it this weekend. Maybe my perspective has been skewed by time or jaded by personal experience, but this may very well be my favorite one of his books to date. I think I was getting tired of anecdote after anecdote and needed some larger life lesson to cling to... something grittier, even if it too came in anecdote form. WYAEIF waffles between stories from his childhood, adolescence and adulthood (the bulk of the book) with purpose and intensity. And while I could finish up one of his earlier collections and feel a connection to David Sedaris at 10 or 16 or 21, I now feel like I understand the David Sedaris of today. I'm more of a recommender than a reviewer, so if I keep speaking to the subject, I will end up sounding like a hack. Long story short, the book is worth the time and hardcover price - IMHO. That's technology speak for In My Humble Opinion. In exchange for that nugget, give the book a try. If you don't enjoy it, I'll take your copy for posterity. I think I left mine at the airport.

bat dance.

Normally I'm a bit put off by a super summer blockbuster media onslaught. But I make exceptions for things that totally kick ass.

Domino's Gotham City Pizza bullshit aside, I think the viral and guerrilla-style advertising for The Dark Knight is really smart and fun. I've seen bumper stickers around town, and know a handful of dudes who not only registered to vote in the Gotham City mayoral race, but also subscribe to the Gotham Times. (For real!)

I'm not even a comic nerd, but I will totally nerd out for impeccably-executed hype. See you at the midnight show!

Paper Snowflakes

Last night I saw Son Ambulance at Schubas. The only other time I've seen them was probably 2005ish, when they played a free show at the Joslyn for art patrons, local fans and anyone else who wandered in off the street looking for air conditioning and/or macaroni art projects. And at the time, I was too busy painting a rudimentary self portrait with a group of more talented five-year-olds to pay close attention. Anyway, this time the audience was more intimate, slightly older, and with two beers and no dinner, the buzz probably added a little something as well. All in all, the show was good. Not great, mostly because it took them awhile to catch their stride and get into things, and the set ended soon thereafter. The band itself is awesome, and I'm not just saying that as a former Omahan. But... for the sake of full disclosure, the lead singer used to live across the street from me on Dewey Ave., in that big, crumbling mansion full of hipsters, vagrants and hipstervagrants.

In other news...
This morning I left a frozen veggie burger in a plastic bag somewhere in the apartment. I'm not sure where, and I'm already dreading the day I go to throw away a q-tip and find it decaying beneath the bathroom sink.

I'm treating this like my regular blog, so maybe I'll post it in my regular blog as well. (If you're reading my regular blog, it means you're reading the copied and pasted but no less authentic version.)

I have never wanted to be where I currently am less than I do today.

Pitchfork is this weekend. If you're in Chicago, you should go and hang out with my sister. You will have to be comfortable with the fact that I'm living vicariously through you (it's a pretty painless process).


Annie and I, along with a few other rather rad people, are traveling from our respective cities to KC this weekend to celebrate the nuptials of John and Monica. There are also plans to drink, reminisce, make mistakes and reminisce some more about mistakes recently made. Hopefully we'll return with stories and actual blog posts, because I'm feeling like a cock tease for hinting at good things to come.

TGIF.

I think we sort of have a tentative structure in place, but I'm going to go out on a limb and make Friday a free for all.

Shamille is currently on a plane to Chicago, her first motivation being to see me (at least I'd like to think), and her second to attend Chicago's Irish Fest. She has a friend in the band Bua, one of the featured festival performers. And I'll take any opportunity to drink heavily and break out a rusty slip jig (in that order).

Anyway, if you're in the Chicago area, you should check it out .

To get you in the mood, here's a video of Mundy performing Galway Girl. I ran the Bastille Day 5K in some sort of midwestern hurricane last night, and the only thing that kept me from taking cover under a parked car or hopping on the nearest bus was this song on repeat.

Cleaning house.

Hey guys,
Guy.
Fan. Singular.
Mom?
Whoever still reads this blog...

In addition to various title iterations, Get Out of My Dreams and Into My Blog has suffered some serious neglect over the past few months. Both parties involved are somewhat responsible, although I have to say I made a pretty valiant effort toward the end. But when you're contending with life and all of its various events, trying to sufficiently entertain the masses just isn't a priority.

However, we're back in action. In need to a creative outlet. Amassing recommendations, anecdotes and humorous tidbits to be passed on for casual enjoyment and intellectual betterment.

Starting sometime in the very near future (Today? Tomorrow? Sunday afternoon? The excitement lies in the uncertainty!), we're going to return triumphantly, blogging the shit out of the internet in a more organized, regularly updated fashion.

Hold on to your hats.

Best,
Catmoe and Annie

a koozie off!

Happy summer! In celebration, a tribute to the cold keeper of delicious beverages: