Sweetney

the stuff that rocked 2004.

though i know i'll be kicking myself shortly after posting this -- suddenly realizing all i've forgotten to add that i should've -- here's v1.0 of my year-end list:

favorite albums:
Iron & Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days
Elliott Smith - from a basement on the hill
Modest Mouse - Good News For People Who Love Bad News
Wilco - A Ghost Is Born

best books:
Inside the Victorian Home: A Portrait of Domestic Life in Victorian England
Rats : Observations on the History and Habitat of the City's Most Unwanted Inhabitants
McSweeney's Quarterly Concern Issue 13 (McSweeney's Quarterly Concern)
Magical Thinking : True Stories
The Working Poor : Invisible in America

tv worth staying home for:
Lost
The Wire
The Amazing Race
Chappelle's Show
Six Feet Under

best films:*
kill bill vol 2
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
fahrenheit 9/11
LOTR: the return of the king

blogs i've come to love this year:
home of dismay
symbiotic fishes
crazy us
low culture

free online services i dig:
bloglines
del.icio.us
mapquest
statcounter
froogle

other misc things that have rocked:
M_
truman
jamie
jamie's cooking/baking
moving to baltimore
our house
our hood

thanks to everyone who reads sweetney.com...you've made my life bigger and happier, and i send you all big, moist smoochies.

happy new year, dahlinks.

----
*i just watched anchorman: the legend of ron burgundy, and would probably add that here as well. and i think my guns would agree with that.

yes yes yes.

a thousand times, yes: new years 05.

another musical tidbit (or: shameless plug, ahoy!).

my dear pal mr. bob massey, aka gena rowlands band, has a cd coming out in february featuring a number of fine tunes available here for your listening pleasure. bob's one of the brainiest, most talented, and interesting dudes i've ever had the pleasure of knowing -- the guy wrote a fucking opera, fer crissakes. you may also know him from tsunami, telegraph melts, and The Out_Circuit. or not.  anyway, i've long called him the mark eitzel of DC, and he's deserving of that. fans of smart post-punk, take heed.

please pass on linkyness to the GRB mp3s as you see fit. danke.

plug plug plug. ahem.

bah.

i just realized that link in my last post to the song "government administrator" was to a crappy clip. so pssst! i'm gonna post the mp3 (well, m4a, actually) to my site for, like, the next 24 hrs. let me know if this is problematic in anyway (i mean let me know if you have problems, not if you find it morally questionable, because fuck that shit).

go here.*

don't burn me on bandwidth, doggs.

*sorry, no pocky for kitty.

untitled.

i was in the process of composing a typical, pithy sort of update post for your reading pleasure when i caught some of the more recent video from south asia... this stopped me in my tracks. i simply can't, at the moment, get beyond the video loop of a woman cradling her clearly dead child in her arms, shaking and screaming and weeping. nothing i have to say matters in the face of that.

if you are able, please take a moment and think seriously about donating even a small amount to the relief efforts.

you can also donate directly to the red cross efforts via amazon.com.

in conclusion, i will now go gaze at my sleeping toddler.

xmasy.

43 things.

12 days until the New Year...
What do you want to do with your life?

my incomplete (but in-progress) response...

props to lalitree.

a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free.

i've been off the interweb for the past couple of days (attending Internet Anonymous, group therapy...kidding), mainly due to familial obligations and holiday-related crap. for the record, i am *done* with both. i have yet to determine if family gatherings are as stressful as they are now because of the attendant toddler-wrangling involved (M_ gets a titch, umm, high-maintenance during gatherings that exceed 5 or 6 individuals), or if i'm just now coming to terms with how completely screwed up our families are, some intangible veil of self-deception having been lifted from my previously shuttered eyes.

relatedly, M_ received a couple "my first princess" action-figure/playset-type thingys from relatives this weekend during a pre-xmas xmas celebration held at our abode (jamie's folks live in northern VA, which is apparently far away enough that we're no longer obligated to make the trek down there for xmas day festivities, and instead can have a faux xmas with them a week before), and i am deliberating on whether these items are toy-for-tots material or if i'm just going to throw caution and politics to the wind and let M_ sink her chubby, adorable little fingers into the realm of preschool gender-typing. i know some of you may wonder what the hell i'm talking about and why this matters, but until now we've done an excellent -- if not terribly calculated or thought through -- job of keeping our daughter away from toys that promote girls as frillyness-loving, fresh n' pretty, fragile and/or helpless creatures (isn't the whole princess gig about either 1) being transformed in terms of appearance and thereby redeemed (because being pretty and dainty is crucial to a female's value/viability) or 2) being "saved" from danger in some sort of practical sense, usually by a princely male type?). she's pretty much lived a gender-neutral existence up until now -- or at least a gender-balanced one; hello kitty countered with cowboy hats and dinosaurs, etc. in any case, this is uncharted territory, and while my personal inclination is to chuck the whole lot and continue as we have, i'm not so naive that i don't realize that she'll be exposed to such things regardless of my preferences and desires....in all likelihood we'll give em' to her and see what she makes of them, allow her the freedom to decide what's appealing and not, and try very very hard to not influence that process unnecessarily.

in other news of home and hearth, we are now TiVoed, which has the potential to be both the answer to and source of myriad problems. sure, now i can just record the crap i watch and fit the viewing of it in as time permits, but this technology also means i now have the ability to record crap i wouldn't otherwise watch (things that conflict with my own personal version of must-see teevee -- Lost and The Amazing Race, for example)....this has lead to the recording of shows of more questionable merit, like Project Runway and, i'm ashamed to say, Flab to Fab (i'm looking for tips, gawddammit!).

bottomline, we may need to send M_ off to daycare so i have the time to view all the bad tv now at my disposal.

ps: i just TiVoed the movie Home for the Holidays, which was shot in my neighborhood! so its almost like -- through my TiVo usage -- i'm supporting my hood! whoot! (note: john waters also filmed A Dirty Shame in my neighborhood, the plot of which is summarized by IMDB as: "Head injuries and sex-addicts in blue-collar Baltimore." which may give you a sense of just how awesome my neck of the woods is. heh.)

baby, its cold outside.

presently 9 degrees (though, as weather.com helpfully notes, "feels like -7") here in charm city, USA.

and: M_ is sick. again. which significantly increases the Donner Party vibe (yes, i just said "vibe." shut up.).

AND: since yesterday, the dog has taken to covertly crapping inside, so as to avoid braving the living-thing-unfriendly out-of-doors.

i think we may have a Shining-type situation on our hands here.

letting GYWO speak for me...again.

in full here.

i love GYWO so much i want to marry it.

obey my will (alternate title: you should like what i like).

if you're not watching Lost, you should really try to catch tonight's rerun of the 2-hour pilot (8pm EST, ABC), or fire up your tivo or vcr if you won't be around. in particular, i'm looking at all you lovers of the defunct Buffy The Vampire Slayer -- its your bag, believe me.

if you watch tonight and likey, you can catch-up on what you've missed since the pilot via television without pity (whose recaps are entertaining reads even if you've caught every episode).

thus ends my shameless plug/demand for submission. thank you for your cooperation.

holding a grudge.

the democratic party needs to stop sending me emails. they're like the guy i once dated who totally flaked on me and then later resurfaced and tried to act as if *nothing had happened*.

yeah, damn right nothing happened. no election was won, we're still precisely where we were november 1st (actually, we might have been better off november 1st, because at least then we still had hope), and my ulcer-generating fretting AND financial donation to the cause clearly didn't stop nothing from happening. you bastards.

basically, i'm mad at the democratic party, and i'm not reading their emails or responding to any of their pleas until i get a fucking apology for their ineptitude in losing to the most pathetic and cringe-worthy of opponents.

[snort]

blogging for fun and profit.

interesting article in NYT...while i think there are some blogs out there worthy of mass publication and/or elaboration in book form (dooce, anyone?), i can also see how this could get out of control -- leading to unrealistic expectations and infighting amongst bloggers.

personally, my aspirations tend toward the meager end of the spectrum, as in: i'd like to amuse and entertain even a handful of nice folks. i'd like them to think: hey, that sweetney is alright. that's about it, really.

i think we now can see how it is that i never finished that phd, eh?

the conquest of [my] cool.+

earlier today, as i was walking around target (or, as i like to call it, "tar-zhay" (said with a fake french lilt and everything, because i'm just that much of a lame ass)), i had the eeriest sense of my own small place in the great chain of being: at some point in the past 5 years* i have become a person who is, apparently, utterly peggable. i am honestly and truly now a segment of the populace for which things are specifically designed and appealingly marketed. and the sad reality is that it works. i walk into target and see laid before me a smorgasbord of goods that make my gluttonous, capitalist heart go pitter-pat. from housewares to textiles to electronic goods, I AM THEIRS. i have a female preschooler and they have hello kitty, fer crissakes. its like they scanned the deepest reaches of my consumerist desires and modeled an entire store in that likeness.

hi, my name is tracey, and i'm a target demographic (or the target target demographic?). and it frightens me.

create-a-carol.

kinda nutty: create and send xmas carols.

via ze frank

interweb shout-out.

all hail bill colgrove, who despite looking something like "Doug" of early nickelodeon fame, does in fact have functioning eyeballs and thus could produce the fine web design/layout you see before you.

bill is one of the founders of the company jamie works at in DC, threespot, does lots of fine little side-projects like the fort reno website (am i cool yet?), and is generally just one of the most radical, smart, and funny dudes you'll ever meet. he also has a really nice new haircut that makes him look like he should be in some sort of hipster band that the kids these days would like.

bill, you light up my life.

living up to his namesake in the "give em' hell" department.

i just realized i haven't posted any good puppy porn in quite some time, and so i bring you brief survey of trumandom:

possible captions would include: oh, did you find that pile of crap i left for you by the front door? and what do you mean cat food isn't my food? everything is my food!

this is the look motley crue (imagine that sideways ":" over the "u", please) spoke of....that kills. it may also be the look that says i can feel the pulse of your blood...you'd better sleep with one eye open, beeyatch! or your pants smell like peanut butter...mmmm peanut buttery...

this is how we like him best: barely conscious.

actually he's a good boy. demonic and unholy, yes, but basically a good boy.

it ate my husband's brain.

i've never been too big on video games myself, but have in the past enjoyed watching jamie play them on occasion (the tomb raider and grand theft auto series were vicariously enjoyable, particularly after a couple tokes). overall though, i haven't given them too much thought...until now, that is.

behold my husband's consuming obsession: the katamari damacy. see that big, horizon-eclipsing ball on the cover? well, in the game YOU ARE THAT BALL -- a massive sticky ball rolling around the earth, sucking up anything and everything in your path (apologies to my animal rights pals, but those cows are goners). it indeed embodies kooky-cutsie japanese insanity at its finest, but there's definitely a sense that something is lost in translation (there's a whole incomprehensible backstory to the game that you get glimpses of in brief pre-play scenes: apparently you (sticky-ball guy) are the prince of the king of the cosmos, and need to collect as many earthly items as possible so that they -- in humongo ball form -- can be teleported up into the sky and turned into stars, because all the stars are somehow *missing* and need to be replaced....uhhh whaaa?). anyway, the point is that despite how utterly bizarre all of this may sound, it is apparently as addictive as crack. jamie played for six and a half hours straight last night, and from the moment he got up this morning all i've been hearing about is this fucking ball and how huge he got it to be (and to all of you amateur psychologists out there, YES, i've thought of that) -- about how it ate skyscrapers and islands and giant squid. like, wow.

i may have to hide the fucking thing. that or install a hydroponic grow room in our basement.

if its so wrongo dongo, why does it taste so right?

tonight jamie brought home this bottle of wine for us:

yes, wrongo dongo. its a spanish red. not that it matters, since clearly the point here is that its called wrongo dongo, and the potential for punnage is unlimited. even the makers couldn't resist -- on the back label it says, and i quote: "dongo to the party without it!" [wah wah waaah]

this should give you some insight into the mind of jamie. the big, dorky -- yet adorable and endearing -- mind of jamie.

death star attic.

after several months of work, our attic is nearing completion. i am ridiculously filled with joy.

for those of you who haven't visited casa de gaughran-perez, this space was your average old house walk-up attic, with exposed dark wood (and not the attractive version of "exposed dark wood", but rather the old-rusty-nails-sticking-out drab, dreary, uninhabitable, and slightly hazardous looking version), plain ol' beams, and a seriously messed-up wood floor (which is still messed up, but the random holes are presently being mended, and it will soon be painted). once finished, this will be our library -slash- office space. a peek at the work-in-progress:

the stairs, complete with new banister/railing, because i'm all safety-first and shit (note attractive green paint selected by a previous owner, who should be shot)...

the back portion of the room (windows facing backyard); an insane amount of work had to be done to frame out and drywall those alcoves where the windows are...

a view of the front portion of the room. do these alcoves not look as though they belong in, like, a star wars movie set? jack says they're "gothic", but they make me think The Empire. because i'm just that much of a geek.

the aforementioned jack at work. fyi, i highly recommend getting a professional jazz musician to do your home improvement work. if only because he's far more entertaining and fun to talk to than, say, your average carpenter dude, and you *do* have to have the guy in your house for quite a while, ya know.

so yay, its gonna be RAD. i should be able to get in and begin slapping on the paint thursday. i hope to have it all painted and ready for decoration/furniture by the end of the weekend (at which time more pix will be posted). finally we'll be able to unpack our books and stroke them and love them and display them with pride and joy (sniff..getting misty...).

i miss the innocence i've known... playing kiss covers, beautiful and stoned.

the best thing i can say about meeting someone from the internet is that they ended up being precisely who i thought they would be. such is the case with mike from geekpunk.

the best thing i can say about a documentary about a rock band is that by the end of the movie i'd fallen in love with its protagonist's goodness and artistry. such is the case with i am trying to break your heart.

the best thing i can say about my husband tonight is he knows when a girl needs a goddamn reese's peanut butter cup, and doesn't hesitate to brave the dark and cold to fulfill said need.

all told, a good day, i reckon.

like a cd player. but for odors.

febreze "scent stories" -- its like room freshening technology has leapt from the dark ages into the 21st century!!!

[slowly, rhythmically pounds head against wall]

am i alone in my disgust and exasperation? can i get a witness? i ask you: are we really living in environments that are so filled with rancidity and nastiness that we need 50 different forms of air freshener? what was wrong with sprays and those little pine cone-shaped disintegrating scent-gel filled pod thingies (and don't pretend like you don't know what i'm talking about, dork)? i mean, seriously, they lost me at plug-ins....