she make the people say, "yeah"

she make the people say, "yeah"

photo from gazettetimes.com

I have an extreme, irony-free predilection for outdated pop tunes. That is, I can't really appreciate pop songs while they're still, uh, popular. Whether this is because I'm not up on the cultural zeitgeist or because of a deeply ingrained snobbism is unclear, but either way I always seem to rediscover songs several months or years after they are long off the radio (or in the case of Manhattan KS radio, it probably never went off because we still seem to enjoy SugarRay and other 90s poppettes). One of my all-time favorites is prepubescent pop sensation 3LW (the acronym stands for "3 Lil' Women), whose outrageously catchy song "No More (Baby I'ma Do it Right)" was reintroduced to me via my friend Nikki a few years back. One of my guilty Oxford pleasures was "Hot N' Cold" by Katy Perry, whose musical stylings usually cause a pop rash in my soul. However, the insane ubiquity of the song in English clubs meant that it became sort of anthem to the Oxford term abroad. It manages to conjure up hot, sweaty, awkward nights at The Bridge and unplugged singing while bopping around the Continent.

As of late, I've become obsessed with T-Pain. His "Buy You a Drink" was already a favorite from NY days, but it's his song "Can't Believe It" that really gets my jam flowing. I don't care what Jay-Z says, I love autotune, especially T-Pain's use of it. Not to mention, the graphics are ludicrously amusing - it looks like the graphics designer simply took his Sims dream houses and implanted it into the video.

image from here nymag.com

If there's anything I'm fanatic about, it's dining, especially when it comes to ferreting out places that haven't been heard of by most of the population and that serve food at a relatively affordable price. There's nothing better than eating something moltenly delicious and knowing that it cost you less than an over-sugared Frappucino.

That's partly why I was (and am still) so obsessed with New York; the profusion of cafes, restaurants, and street carts prompted a maddening need to eat anything and everything. One of my favorite guides is New York Magazine's food guides that come out every year and are usually around $9-11. Even better is their issue dedicated to "Cheap Eats", whose release each year causes me to shut myself in the bedroom and obsessively plan what and where I'm going to eat next time I visit.

One great thing they did this year is a huge feature on pizza (specifically the "Neapolitan Pizza Revolution"). When I was living in the city, there would be quite a few times where I wouldn't be able to afford a proper meal while wandering around on the weekends, during my lunch break, or after work. Pizza, of course, was always the answer.

For around $2 a plain slice, I could eat all that I wanted. Pizza is the great democratizer. It made a great meal, especially with red pepper flakes, garlic salt, and parmesan piled on top. It made an even better snack, it's oily cheese dripping down the fold and onto the plate (or my shirt). Though most foodies seem to regard most of the pizza stands in NYC as subpar, for me, each slice was always a revelation compared to the execrable pies back in the Midwest. Before moving to New York, I wasn't even that crazy about pizza. Yet, something about the pies there completely and utterly changed my mind. It's hard to describe to someone what exactly makes New York pizza exactly so astoundingly exquisite; a lot of people say it's the crust - definitely a big deal -, but for me, it lies in the perfect balance of ingredients in every slice. Plus, there's the wonderful experience of being able to fold a pizza slice and eating it. Chicago deep dish, no matter what people say, is not pizza.


I remember coming back to Kansas and going with a bunch of people to eat at Wheatstate Pizza, a local favorite known for their wheat crust. It was perhaps one of the more depressing incidents I'd ever experienced; while the other's "mmmed" and "awwed" over the pizza, I could barely keep the excessively doughy, soft crust and saccharine sauce down my throat. That moment, more than anything, clarified that I was no longer in New York.

STAT

STAT

So I'm resuscitating this blog from its longstanding illness. Admittedly, it was a little pointless as a blog documenting my time abroad, which partly resulted from the fact that I was there and much preferred experiencing Oxford than recounting them. Now that I'm back perhaps I'll write about some of my exploits, but I think this space will primarily serve as a thoroughly random, visually-oriented journal.

1) I was driving to class this morning and Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey's 90s pop hit "One Sweet Day" came on air (don't ask me what radio station I was listening to). I well remember this song and its music video from my MTV-saturated youth, but never realized that it was about someone's death - WHJAT? Anyway, I'm having this played at my funeral (and if you look at the youtube video w/ lyrics, the author posted something akin to "stop writing RIP comments" apparently due to the onrush inspired by MJ's recent death). Until then, I will hope that there comes a karaoke night soon when I can bust this out.


2) Absolutely obsessed with the idea of grey flannel bedding like the kind that T Magazine editor Stefano Tonchi has in his own bedroom.
SO GOOD.

happy summer

happy summer

photo courtesy of mark borthwick

milk fed

milk fed

So I'm no longer sure if I should be posting stuff about Oxford that I've been meaning to all along - tutorials, libraries, etc. It all seems a bit silly now that I'm leaving in two weeks.

Either way, continuing my run of emasculating but adorable websites, here's one I wanted to share with you.
It's called "My Milk Toof" and follows the daily adventures of these two little teeth. The artist was apparently inspired by a childhood wondering about what happened to all the little teeth collected by the Tooth Fairy. Hopefully they have just as exciting lives as these two.

stay tuned

stay tuned

courtesy of the Selby.

Uhhhh... I would continue posting after the mini temper tantrum, but there's no time!

P.O.D. 9 and thoughts on the nature of blogging

P.O.D. 9 and thoughts on the nature of blogging

Strawberries on the beach, Nice.


I was reading someone's travel blog the other day. It was interesting, full of stunning pictures, and informative - full of stories and life. So, basically, nothing like mine. For me, blogging is a task that's neither here nor there - I'm not really sure why I do it. I think I do it to keep in contact, to let people in on my life and experiences, but it feels extremely one-sided at the same time. If I don't write much, or what I do write is rather uninvolved, it's partly out of that feeling of imbalance. I mean, I don't really know who reads this blog or even if people read it, and then I also don't get the same insight into my reader's lives either. It's - to use elementary school parlance - unfair. Sometimes it seems to me that blogging is just a really narcissistic endeavor, which is a tendency that I definitely don't need to encourage.

I guess what I'm getting at is a question about how much effort I should put into blogging. At this moment, it's pretty low. I'd like to share all the experiences and stories, but if no one shares my enthusiasm, I'd much rather write in my journal. What I'm curious to see is how many people actually pay attention. So, should I continue? Anyone?