Come with me if you want to live.

-- The Terminator (Arnold Schwarzenegger), Terminator 2: Judgement Day

Or, you know, listen to pretty great music for a decent price.

Some of my favorite new artists are playing locally over the next several weeks, and I have one question for you: Do you want to live hear good music?

Jay Nash / Joe Purdy / Meiko
Roxy Theatre, Hollywood, CA
Fri, Aug 29, 2008
8:00p
$20

Brooke Fraser
El Rey Theatre, Los Angeles, CA
Fri, Sep 12, 2008
8:00p
$22

Mandi Perkins
Troubadour, West Hollywood, CA
Thu, Sep 18, 2008
7:30p
$17

I wanna explode Watch me, I'm a lucky girl

-- Explode, by Uh Huh Her

I love Uh Huh Her. They make some darn good music, and they’re “underground” enough that tickets aren’t ridiculously priced. So I felt it was justifiable to spend $10 on their (first) full-length album, Common Reaction. I ordered it through their website, as it came with an advance download of the single, Not a Love Song. What I conveniently forgot, however, was that is also came with a signed album insert! Imagine my surprise when I open a letter-sized envelope and this tumbles out along with the CD:


Now, maybe it’s not a really big deal to those of you who don’t know of them (or who are less prone to random bouts of fangirl than myself), but I was inexplicably excited to see those Sharpie marks! So imagine my further surprise when I pulled this out of the envelope next:


I sort of gushed about it for a few minutes, in that oh-so-predictable vein of “OMG, that’s Camila Grey and Leisha Hailey! And they wrote my name!” Embarrassing though that may have been, I blame it mostly on the fact that I completely forgot that the album would be signed, and then the personalized photo came out of left field! No matter, I wear my UHH Fangirl badge with pride, yo.

Come to think of it, so should you. Srsly, go listen to them now. Dreamer, Covered and Common Reaction are good places to start. I would caution against the music video for Common Reaction, however, since the band seems to have been struck simultaneously by an ill-advised bout of 80’s nostalgia and retro-modernism. And unicorns.

But their music more than makes up for the occasional video mishap, and the fact that Leisha is part of the tiny contingent of actors-turned-musicians-that-don’t-suck just adds to the awesome. If you like ethereal-ish, sometimes semi-techno à la dance -- or even just plain ol’ good music -- put Uh Huh Her in your playlist. And then when you realize how great they really are, you can be jealous of my signed memorabilia.
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In other, oddly less exciting Signed Paper news, I got my diploma. It arrived in a nondescript cardboard envelope, and the whole affair lacked a certain ... excitement ... I think I was expecting. Something about waiting so long after the ceremony makes the diploma little more than beige cardstock with screen-printed calligraphy. I got all my official You Graduated paperwork ages ago, so this was a mere formality; I’m more proud of my final transcript than I am of this thing. Is that weird? Regardless, I can’t help the internal, “I graduated, and there’s not a thing you can do to take it back now!” every time I see the darn thing. Now that? I know is not unusual.

When will it stop?

-- Masochist, by Ingrid Michaelson

The crazy, that is. When will it stop? Let's discuss the numerous instances of crazy over the last week.

Monday: This day sucked. Well, the morning did. It was the beginning of Sans Boss Lady Week, as she was out on vacation. It sunk in on Monday that I'd be dealing with SBTL all week and that I still had no clue how to work this software that is absolutely central to my job. I was uber-frustrated with myself for being so dense about business and all its stupid procedures and financial ... stuff. Luckily, mommie talked me off the ledge, and I spent the rest of the day wading through tutorials and practice runs to learn the Damn Program.

Tuesday: SBTL is at my desk answering yet another of my questions re: the Damn Program. She explains, then turns to walk back to her desk.

*cue earthquake*

She takes off like a shot for the nearest sturdy object, which luckily was not far away. She looks back and forth between me and MA/WME* with the single most terrified look I have ever seen in person on her face. Poor thing. It probably wouldn't have been as funny as it was if she didn't insist on the Tough Broad attitude. Needless to say, the rest of the day was lost to Earthquake Freakout / Recap Time. Lunch with Sam was rushed and short because I was still shaken up. (See what I did there? Yay, puns.) Not so much from the earth moving, but from the "Oh, by the way. We have a last-minute, but SOOPER IMPORTINT project due nao. Go." I got from The Owner just before lunch. Sheesh, Tuesday was a wreck.

Wednesday: Has been nicknamed The Longest Day Known to Man Me. The crazy on this day? Nothing happened. I think I gave up and read at my desk at one point. I can't be sure because the sheer boredom of the day erased random parts of my memory. Dinner with Sam and Mush was the only thing that kept me from losing all my marbles.

Thursday: My immune system decides to take the day off. Luckily, Giggly has just gotten over her cold. Oh wait, no she hasn't.

I proceed to catch the remnants of her week-long cold and incubate them to within an inch of a full-blown cold of my own. I stave off completing the process of infection with massive amounts of Airborne (yes, I know about the lawsuit, no I don't care) and vitamin C. And some nose-swab thing that SBTL gave me. She must be warming up to me if she's willing to share her cold-fighting weapons with me, right?

Friday: The King of Crazy for the week. MA/WME asks me to call and order a brochure for her. We have the old ones, and we need new ones to show clients. I call, and find out two things:

1) The company is located somewhere in the South
2) EVERYONE is out of the office or away from their desks

So I send an e-mail to their Literature Request Department. In it I state that I need printed copies of the brochures, not the PDFs that they offer online. Only the best for our clients. I get a call back about an hour later from one of their representatives, who sounds like she's sixty and only has cats for friends. She just wants to confirm our shipping address so she can overnight the brochures.
This is how the conversation goes: (bear in mind this woman sports a ridiculously Southern accent)

Southern Salesgrandmalady: In your e-mail you mention that you want printed copies instead of-- what's this now? A pee. Dee. Ayf?
My Brain: *silence and flashbacks to "Shiny Disk" Man*
Southern Salesgrandmalady: A pee dee ayf? What's that now, honey?
My Brain: *still computing how to explain a PDF in simple terms to someone who doesn't know*
Southern Salesgrandmalady: Hello?
Me: Um, it's like a ... picture ... of a document. Does that. Make. Sense? Like the ... digital ... brochures you guys have on your website.
Southern Salesgrandmalady: Oh, sure sure. So I'll send you them brochures overnight, sugar.
Me: Thanks? *has no idea what she's going to get in the mail now*

The girls and I laughed about that ALL DAY. I understand being a bit of a luddite, but if you can turn on your computer and open an e-mail, surely you know what a PDF is. Am I wrong?

Saturday: Shirley. 'Nuff said.


Whew! So there it is, the week in review. And looking back, I think I don't want the crazy to stop. Well, except for Monday's crazy. Good riddance to that.

Sorry if this was boring and long-winded. At least you got the Reader's Digest version, I had to live it! ;)
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* = MexicAsian / Worst Mexican Ever, the office nickname for this woman, not mine. She hates tortillas, can't cook and won't eat spicy food. Her own mother branded her the Worst Mexican Ever. And apparently Giggly decided she has Asian eyes, thus MexicAsian was born. They were both too good to pick just one blog alias for her.

Jump in my car, we'll go 100 around the bends

-- 100 Round the Bends, by Missy Higgins

Two disclaimers here.

1. We will not be going 100 mph. Ever. I don't like getting tickets.
2. This is the car you'll be jumping in:


That's right, folks. I got myself a nice new set of shiny shiny wheels. And it was about time, too. Denny Crane served me well through most of college, but he's 11 years and 170k miles old and seriously rough around the edges. Anyone who has had the distinct pleasure of driving with us in the last several months is aware of the state of disrepair into which good ol' Denny has fallen. Or, more accurately, has been in since before I inherited him. He recently started mumbling something about needing new brakes and an electrical system thisclose to short-circuiting in the middle of my morning commute.

"But Erin, what about all that talk of getting a Smart Car?" Well, ever-observant readers, that dream was quickly squashed upon discovering that the wait for a Smart Car is nine months, easy. Since Denny's brakes were not nearly that long for this world, my mom and I thought it would be best to circumvent that cost by looking for more available alternatives. Enter Shirley.


Alan Shore: Shirley? What about senior partners? There would be nothing wrong with me, lusting, say, after ... you? Would there?
Shirley Schmidt: Go subscribe to National Geographic. Make a list of the places you'll never get to visit. Add to that list, Schmidt.
-- Boston Legal

Yes, my new car is named after the inimitable Shirley Schmidt. The snarky, intelligent, sane counterpoint to Denny Crane. And played by the equally-awesome Candice Bergen. Keeping the naming scheme within the Boston Legal line was a simple decision. Denny Crane (the car) embodies everything that Denny Crane (the lawyer) is. Both were lovable, had Mad Cow Disease and were embarrassingly unpredictable. And while Shirley (the car) is considerably younger, even in car years, than Shirley (the lawyer) is, she hits all the other points of similarity. She's quick-witted and cool; unshakable in her confidence. The exact opposite of Denny.

So, while I still love him dearly, I do need to find a new home for Denny. If anyone's looking to score a cheap vehicle in need of a few repairs, let me know. Denny's flaws are mostly cosmetic, although he does need new brakes, like, yesterday. He's taped up in all the cracks that threaten to ruin the electrical when it rains, so there are probably a couple thousand good miles on him yet. If I'm honest, though, I'm pretty sure he'll make his last change of ownership into the hands of a charity. Which I think would be a wonderful way to go. He will be happier frolicking in the big junkyard in the sky than he ever was sitting in LA traffic. Rest in Peace, Denny Crane. You were awesome.