Tonight I'm Gonna Rockumentary You Tonight

Blame it on repeated viewings of "Behind the Music" during my formative years. Blame it on my severe addiction to music magazines that dates back to Jr. High. Blame it on me just being a huge nerd, but I am a sucker for rockumentaries. There, I said it. My Netflix queue is a testament to my fascination with the genre.

Admittedly, it is a pretty dorky genre of film that seems to attract the worst kind of obsessive geeks. I won't fight you on that one. As an obsessive music geek, I can relate. And, I can recognize us in the crowd; we are the kind of people who take music waaaaay too seriously and can still engage in heated discussions about our idea of who belongs in the musical cannon (and, more heatedly, who doesn't). We are the people who get irrationally outraged if you haven't heard our favorite semi-obscure band. We suck.

However, a successful rockumentary can elevate a band and make a good story into a great one. For this to happen, a solid rockumentary film must do the following:

• Give historical and sociological context surrounding the band's conception.


• Make the audience feel like they are on the journey with the band, navigating the internal conflicts and struggles the musicians overcame to produce their work.


• Unflinchingly expose the quirks and illuminate the humanity of the subjects.


• Have a defined ending of the film, culminating in an event that leaves the viewer feeling uplifted and hopeful about the future.

I'm probably leaving a few ones out, but my favorite rockumentaries are, in no particular order:

• The Filth and the Fury about the Sex Pistols
  
• End of the Century: The Story of the Ramones
  
• New York Doll about the New York Dolls
  
• Some Kind of Monster about Metallica
• Dig even though I want to punch the little monkey maraca player guy with the baby bangs
  
• The Devil and Daniel Johnston about, um, Daniel Johnston
• You're Gonna Miss Me about Roky Erickson
  
• Pint-Sized Body, Giant-Sized Hotness: The Musical Genuis of Patrick Stump (Ok, I'm making that one up, but someone should get on it!)

And, now I can add a new one to my list: Fearless Freaks. I'm not a particularly avid fan of the Flaming Lips and I know that it took a while for me to get around to seeing the film, but this movie had all of the elements of a great rockumentary. By the end, I was routing for the band, taking genuine delight in their accomplishments. Wayne Coyne was charming and humble; he is the whimsical, offbeat, big brother we all kinda hoped we could have.

We follow the band from their inception, through their struggles with drugs and loss, and ultimately, to their reinvention as a modern day musical extravaganza. These guys are hard working and completely devoid of pretension.

Coyne's dedication to his family and his loyalty to his Oklahoma roots was refreshing, especially when it would've been so easy for him to abandon them for a more lavish lifestyle in a coastal city. Coyne emerges like a twisted, full bloom shooting up through the sidewalk cracks of his deteriorating neighborhood. He's seems happy to play the part of a backyard Willy Wonka, freaking out the local kids on Halloween with elaborate fake blood-spattered horror shows. I want to give him a hug. Go see it, if you haven't already.

But, if we're talkin' Mockumentaries, This Is Spinal Tap will take that trophy every time!

This Is Why I'm Glad I Attended Barnard College

Because they have events like this for their alumnae:

Journey of Aeneas: Retracing the Aeneid through the Mediterranean
October 10 - 21, 2008

With Virgil's Aeneid as our guide, we will visit sites that have strong mythological links to the classical world. This cruise, based on the epic poem of Aeneas' journey from Troy to Rome, will take its passengers through 3,400 years of history and myth.

Sites will include some of the Mediterranean's most glorious regions, including the Minoan Palace at Knossos, the medieval village of Erice, the Doric Greek temple in the remote valley of Segesta, and the Bay of Naples. The itinerary affords the opportunity to visit Italy, Greece, Turkey and Tunisia as we sail aboard the 114-passenger all-suite Corinthian II with like-minded travelers from co-sponsoring organizations.

Obviously, I'm not going to go. But, I love the idea that they even arrange supremely dorky events like this for us. As a former Latin scholar, I translated The Aeneid in my high school AP Latin class. I was a member of the Junior Classical League and the Latin Club all four years of high school. I told you I was a nerd! Barnard wants to celebrate my nerdiness and combine it with cruising. That's brilliant, I say.

Love you, Barnard! Mean it!

Now, This Is Gettin' Me Pumped

for the new season of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

BIG TIME!

p.s.-Charlie is lookin' good in his green suit. His Lil' Chuck is blazing!

Next Stop: The Big Apple

I'm headed up to New York for the weekend. I'll be sleeping in Astoria but partying in Williamsburg. You know how we do.

This week has been pretty insane, what with the blogger/bikini madness. My head is still spinning from it all so I'm going to deal with it the way I deal with everything: shrug and take a sip of a cocktail! That coping strategy has done wonders for me. Try it sometime.

Tonight, I'm hoping to swing by the 3rd anniversary of the Finger on the Pulse party. I'm not gonna tell Darin that I'm coming. I can't wait to see the look on his face when I walk in the place! I love that dude and I'm looking forward to gettin' a big big big hug from him tonight. I'm all glowy just thinking about it!

Are You There, Patrick? It's Me, Anna!

I was bored at work today and I decided to look up interviews with Patrick Stump, the lead singer of my favorite band. I ran across an old interview with him from some wonky random Web Site. I nearly fell out of my chair when I got to this bit:

Q. Have you ever met any of your influences?

A. Yeah, the weird thing is that I liked bands that lived down the street from me. The first time I met like Luke Skywalker, was their name, when I was 12. And they were my idol. That was like wow. I did get to meet some of them.

Ok, first of all, that's a typo. The name of the band was Luke Skawalker--ahem-- and it was my buddy Dave's band! I used to hang out with those kids all the time when I was in high school. Of all the bands he could've namechecked he chose Luke freakin' Skawalker? TOO FUNNY!

I wonder if we ever attended some of the same shows back in the day. Could you imagine? Me all snotty and 17 and Patrick all young and 12? I was re-reading the history of the band on their MySpace page and it is bringing back some fond, old memories.

In my casual stroll down memory lane, I came across Luke Skawalker's thank you list from their first 7". Courtney and I are thanked in Dave's liner notes! How awesome is that?

Ok, in case you missed it, Patrick, here is the close up of my name, which is right in the middle:

So, the real question is, will this get me any closer to humping the Stump? Will my liner note shout out by his formerly favorite idols give me any street cred with him? I wanna know!

Patrick, I know you don't date your fans, but come on, this has to get me at least a coffee date. Maybe a picnic? You don't even have to buy me a proper dinner. It's cool.

As a side note, Dave also wrote a song called "Anna Hates Me," because, well, I did for, like, a week one summer. That doin' anything for you, buddy?

[Photo swiped from the BBC]

Breaking News: According to Some Strangers I'm Internet Sexxxy!

This. IS AMAZING!

Thank you so much! This really means a lot to me. I'm so flattered.

I'd like to thank the Internet for thinking that I'm hot. I'd like to thank Doc Brown for telling me that if I set my mind to it, I can accomplish anything. I'd like to thank my cat Charlie for sitting on my lap. Oh jeez. I'd like to thank my Mom and Dad for giving me hot genes.

Oh man. What's the time? 30 seconds left? Ok, ok. I'd like to thank my best friends Jenna and Shannon for thinking that I'm funny and I'd like to thank the soft lighting in my apartment for making me look sultry.

Thank you, Urlesque.com, for this great honor. I hope people all around the word continue to want to see me in swimwear. World peace and ending world hunger would be kinda bitchin'. But, mostly I want dudes to fantasize about me in a bikini. That'd be pretty sweet.

Let's Hear It For The Girl!

Big ups to Jenna for her mention in this article that appeared in Fashion Wire Daily. Way to give good quote, lady. And, she designed the blue cardigan that appears in the photo slideshow that accompanys the piece. There it is to the right!

I'm so proud of you, Jenna! Woohoo! Next time you come to town, we'll celebrate your media takeover. I'm thinkin' lots of champage and lots of belly laughs on my couch. Sound good?

Market Street at 5pm Freaks Me The Fuck Out

My new job is at 5th and Market St. Every day after work, I have been walking home which is a good 45 minute powerwalk. The stretch between 5th St. and City Hall on Market is pretty much the worst strip of the Earth, ever.

It's like the alternate universe in Back to the Future II where Biff controls the town and everything is shot to hell. Homeless men and women slump along storefronts and pitifully beg for change. Bums rifle through garbage cans as sunburned convention-goers clog the sidewalks with their bulging waistlines and confused expressions. Walking between the bums and the crowds is like a terrible, horrible video game.

The absolute worst worst worst thing happened yesterday. In front of the Kmart on 10th and Market, some guy was standing on the corner holding not one, but TWO snakes. WTF? He was trying to distrubute literature and these snakes were writing around; one on his shoulders and one is his hand. Oh god, I'm shuddering even just writing about it.

Part of the reason I even moved to a city is to reduce my liklihood of ever running into snakes. I have an intense phobia of them and the fact that I ran into them on a city sidewalk freaks me the hell out! I hate you Market Street! Between your bums and your reptiles, you are going to give me a heart attack one of these days.
But, I wanna end this post on a high note. If a lego recreation of Marty McFly rockin' out doesn't put a smile on my face, nothing will.

The '08 Summer Jam Slam

I have to give props to my girl Alexis for this next post. I attended a party at her house last week and she had a punch bowl filled with can only be described as a magical elixir punch. It seemed to be a hodgepodge of flower petals, sprigs of mint, herbal tea, and vodka. One sip of this potion and you would turn into a wee fairy doing somersaults in the sunshine on a grassy knoll.

Well, I don't have regular access to flower petals (I know, act shocked) but I came up with my own riff on the idea. This cocktail is light, refreshing, and tastes amazing.

What you need for a Summer Slam Jam:

• Iced tea - I prefer to make my own the old fashioned way; I leave a handful of teabags in a pitcher of water and leave it on my windowsill for a day. Viola! Sun tea. I've been using rooibos, which has a bit of a bite, but this week I switched to green tea just for the hell of it. Just make sure the tea is steeped enough so it can maintain it's flavor.
• Ice
• Fresh basil - It adds a nice herbal overtone.
  
• Fresh lime juice
• Vodka -Any kind. Go for flavored if you want. You're in the driver's seat here.

You could probably guess how to assemble this, but I'll walk you through it anyway.

1. Measure out about 2oz of vodka. Pour it in your favorite glass over ice. Add enough iced tea until it's almost at the top.

2. Add a splash of lime juice or any citrus juice, for that matter.

3. Tear a basil leaf into little shreds and throw 'em in. Stir.

4. I like my Summer Jam Slam unsweetened, but you could add some sugar water or honey. Do your thang.

5. Throw a straw in and sip. Yuuuuuuum. Make lots for your buddies, too.

Feelin' Kinda Thursday

1. I just started watching Californication. I'm four episodes deep. So far, I really like the show but the main character Hank (David Duchovny) is a like a shitty cocktail of two men I know; one that has always repulsed me and one that has recently repulsed me.

It is actually freaking me out to see such a sleazy guy onscreen and think that these are exactly the kinds of things these boys would do/have done to me or my buddies. When did I start hanging out with sleezebags? You know what it is? The banter. I'm a sucker for good banter and Hank gives great banter. I fall for it every time. *shakes head* Let it be known that great banter is my kryponite.

2. Speaking of great things, not to toot my own horn, but I rocked my guest editor stint on Philebrity the other week. Here are my top three favorite posts I wrote:

• Breaking News: Uber Menudo Superfan Lashes Out At Us In Noontime Nuggetz Comment Section
• Philly Asks Zipcar to Prom, Totally Blows PhillyCarShare Off
• Comcast Hates Everything Fun About America

Part of me wants to print these out and put 'em up on my fridge with a gold star sticker shining triumphantly. I had so much fun helming the Good Ship Philebrity and I hope I get to do it again sometime. I especially liked ordering their interns around. I could definitely get into that. Maybe we should get interns over at Shmitten Kitten. They'd have to be hot boys and we'd make 'em brush our hair, get us iced coffee, and gives us bear hugs whenever we wanted. I'll run it by Shannon later.

3. I had an amazing time with Jenna last weekend. It's always hard when she leaves and I go back to being Jenna-less. I mean, who here is gonna remind me that I made a hammock request and was brutally denied? Oh God, I'm cringestorming just thinking about it. That one was for you, Jenna!

Alright, This Made Me Laugh

'Cause it's true!

But, it's only true for guys. On us ladies, it still looks pretty foxy.

Douchebag alert: here is an entire Flickr stream dedicated to dudes in deep Vnecks. Oh man. It's a good thing smells can't be transmitted through the Internerd because their collective b.o. would knock me off my chair ala Garth in Wayne's World. Sheesh.

This Article Makes My Ovaries Cringe

Philly.com posted this charming story today titled, "I do … Want That Mixer," that basically gives feminism a big ol' sock in the eye and re-affirms everything that I can't stand about boring women: their rampant consumerism, their complete self-absorption, and their utter disconnect from reality.

The point of the whole piece is that the author attempts to offer a guide to couples who are preparing their wedding registries. She surveyed 100 of her buddies (how scientific) to regal us with their "war stories" about registry run-ins. *heavy sigh*

When he asked for my hand in marriage, John knew he had a significant ace up his sleeve - a KitchenAid Stand Mixer. I'd been lusting after this brilliant piece of equipment for as long as he'd known me but was stubbornly waiting for the day I could receive it as a wedding gift. He knew I could never say no to both the man and kitchen appliance of my dreams.

Is this woman seriously saying that she accepted a marriage proposal in part because she wanted to have a mixer for her kitchen? HELLO! Get a job and buy yourself the freakin' mixer. Didn't Destiny's Child write some songs about this? Even if she is just kidding and trying to relay a "cute" anecdote to open her story, the message is clear: getting married is a valid motivation and a socially accepted avenue to accumulate material things.

Here is one of her "guidelines" for registry etiquitte:

Keep in mind the food you actually eat. Don't like Chinese food? Skip the wok.

Thanks for this gem, lady! It never would have occurred to me to keep myself and my habits in mind when picking things out for a registry. Could you be any more condescending?

Sorry to go off on a rant, but I've been feeling bombarded with these kinds of messages about what women should expect from their lives and almost all of it revolves around their ability to buy shit that they don't need.

Last week, I saw the Sex and the City movie and it basically was a huge, outdated advertisement for a soulless, outdated lifestyle. I couldn't relate to their obsession with high-end fashion labels and pricey purses. It's not my bag, so to speak. And, I don't like the idea of my life being judged on the worth of my "things" and to see women playing along with this charade disappoints me. There's more to life than that, ladies.

On that note, I attended a woman's college. Can you tell?

Get Into It.

Yup, you read that right. Details to follow...

For My Homies at the Conspiracy Showroom

Here is a cute video Philebrity put together about the No Libs. store, Conspiracy Showroom. This place holds a special place in my heart because it is where we had our Shmitten Kitten art show last month. Watch the clip and meet the lovely ladies who run the shop.

In other news, I will be breaking some exciting updates soon. Seriously, it's huge! I'm hammering out the details as I type this. Stay tuned!

Today Was

a perfect day. Just perfect.

I woke up. Made breakfast. Got a call from Shannon asking me to come over so we could work on some stuff. Went over to Shannon's. Banged out some posts for Shmitten Kitten. Then, we rode bikes to center city where we sat in the park and cracked each other up for a few hours. We made sure to grab some of the amazing juice from Sue's Grocery and chugged that delicious bottled sunshine.

Then, we went back to Shannon's house and she made me a fantastic dinner. Then, we ran into our buddy Cody, who bartends at the Standard Tap. We got drinky drinks with him and kicked it. And now I just got home, slightly buzzed and happy.

See? A perfect day! I know I need to land a job soon but that's so hard to do when it's so fun being unemployed.

The Best Video...Ever? Totally!

I've been hanging out with my Mom all weekend and we've been listening to her Best of Sheryl Crow CD on heavy rotation while we are out and about running errands. Well, this gem of a ditty caught my ear and once I listened to the lyrics closely, I realized that this might be the most. Amazing. Song. EVER!

I never thought I'd say this--and I might even lose some street cred for making this assertion--but the duet "Picture" by Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock is kind of blowing my mind. The song was released a few years back, which is evident by Sheryl's "Rachel" haircut and Kid Rock's inclusion at all.

Here's the gist: two lovers in bands are separated on the road. They haven't talked in three damn days. The dude (Kid in a pained performance) deals with this by screwing chicks, downing whiskey, snorting coke, and crying. The girl (Crow) copes with the distance by sleeping with another dude, drowning her sorrows in cheap wine and going to church.

Additionally, there are several video cliches showcased in the clip including:

• The "in the studio clutching one earphone while make a strained face" cliche
• The rocking guitar solo cliche
  
• The footage of "hammering out the lyrics on a legal pad" cliche
• The "longing looks across the studio sound boards that imply that these two singers are lovers" cliche

I love how Kid Rock tries to look all country, kickin' around in the snow with a 10 gallon hat on but he keeps it real by wearing a vintage rock shirt while penning the lyrics on his hotel bed. For the most part, Sheryl seems happy just to bat her eyelashes at him and smile coyly.

Thanks, Kid and Sheryl, for such a rockin' nonsensical ballad. This almost beats Extreme's "More Than Words" for that honor. Wow. I'm totally gonna karaoke this song the next chance I get!

Philebrity Says "Happy Summer" in Video Form

Here is the "Happy Summer" video that is on Philebrity right now. The footage was shot at the graduation party Ruthie and Joey hosted for me two weeks ago. In it, you can see me push the cameraman (Joey) aside at the very end!

.

Cobra Starship Indulge Me on "Guilty Pleasure"

I can't believe I've slept on this for TWO WEEKS.

Here is the new video for "Guilty Pleasure," by Cobra Starship. It stars Patrick Stump as their cheapo video director who insists that the band spend the entirety of their video budget on renting a Delorean. The rest of the video is shot in total low-budget mode to compensate for their outrageous expense. It is hysterical! I love it. Watch:

Really, how could I not love it? Patrick looks adorable, as always. Well, almost always. And, I love the whole aesthetic of a poorly made used-car commercial. This kind of thing has been done in the past, but these Starship boys (and girl) pull it off in a way that doesn't feel forced and seems genuinely light-hearted. Oh, and Ryland's outfit gave me a good belly laugh.

As for me, I'm down at the Shore with Ruthie and Joey. We are having a total blast soaking up the sun. I figured after my media blitz yesterday I could use a quick getaway. Ok, I'm off to go chillax.

Lights! Camera! Action!

Well, here it is: Shmitten Kitten's first taste of local news coverage. We were featured on the morning news show, "WakeUp Philly." today. Pretty amazing, huh? It's been a bit of a whirlwind. A happy, crazy, fun whirlwind. I'm glad people have been talking us up around the watercooler, so to speak.

I've decided that I'm gonna need Jenna to be my stylist for our next TV appearance (I don't wanna pull a Victoria and go unstyled again). It's funny; the shoot for a two minute clip took about three hours to film. Crazy.

I was totally gonna sleep through it and I would have if my Mom hadn't woken me up in a panic about which channel to watch. As I rubbed the sleep outta my eyes, the excitement started to kick in. I called my Grandma to make sure she was on the right channel too. Then, I called Rachel to make sure she was watching it as well. It meant a lot for me that my Grandma was able to watch the clip. And, hearing Rachel get pumped about it made me smile.

A huge, enormous thanks goes out to Nicole Brewer for hooking this up. She was a complete delight to work with an a total class act.

Have You Heard? I'm an Artist Now

Our very first Shmitten Kitten art show was last night and it went off without a hitch. I have to say, it was a thrill to meet our loyal readers and to finally put faces to names. Our fans are the best, sweetest, and raddest people ever!

My parents even came out and I think that my Mom was pretty blown away by the overwhelmingly positive reception we received. She said that she wants posters of all the dudes that I've drawn and I was like, "Why?" And she said that she just had to have them. Sure, Mom, I'll hook you up. Maybe next time I go to my parents' house, I'll see my drawings of shitty dudes I've dated framed on the living room wall. Cool.

All of our friends came out and it felt amazing to look around and see their beautiful faces drinking our cheap beers. I wanted to take pictures during the event, but I was so busy schmoozing that I totally forgot to do it.

I'd like to give a shout out to the ladies at Conspiracy, who were top notch and a complete delight to work with. We couldn't have asked for a more friendly, welcoming, hospitable team. A huge thank you goes out to them for hosting the party.

The response to our art work has been fantastic. Our drawings will be up in their store for the next month so feel free to pop in and check it out. We still have a few posters left for sale. And, with the money we make from selling the posters, we are hoping to print up some T-shirts in the coming weeks. Exciting!

In other news, our little write-up in the City Paper came out yesterday. I'm really thrilled with it:

And, Philly's Daily Candy gave us some love too. How awesome is that?

So, yeah, it's been a whirlwind in Anna-land. I love it!

On Being Henry's Granddaughter

My Grandpa passed away a few weeks ago. It was sudden and left my family stunned and sad. I wrote this the day he passed away, Saturday, April 22, and I read it during his funeral service the following week. It took all of my energy or courage--whatever you want to call it--to read this aloud, but I'm glad that I did.

I was going to share this a few weeks ago, but I was too overwhelmed to put this post together. This essay means a lot to me and I want to share it to remember him and to honor him now that he's gone.

On Being Henry's Granddaughter

What comes to mind when I think about my Grandfather? A ship weathering a storm at sea, a lamppost illuminating a dark street, a warm voice on the end of a telephone line. He was the only Grandfather I knew and he liked what I thought all Grandfathers liked; early bird specials, overstuffed recliner chairs, and vacationing in Florida. He dressed the part, with his sweaters and slacks smartly matching and his leather driving cap slouched low on his head. He was a total Grandpa, which meant that he was sweet, happy, and a reliable source of unconditional love.

Henry was a handsome man. He had kind eyes that softened when he smiled. I get my height from him and my looks from his mother, Katie. It's a superficial connection, but one that made me feel closer to him. I was part of his brood. You could tell by my round face and big cheeks. Yup, those Simons were my clan.

Being Henry's grandkid meant that you had to give him a kiss on the cheek as soon as you walked in the door. That was non-negotiable. It also meant that he would take care of the check and would get agitated if you offered to pay, "Put your wallet away, kid."

One of my favorite things about my Grandpa were his particular expressions which he used often:

"Come on! Give a nice Jewish boy a break!" at the yield sign, inching through the traffic, pleading with the other drivers to let him in.
"God Almighty," his favorite exclamation in times of exasperation, which I mimicked as a kid, but it wasn't as effective as when he would say it.
"So long," his parting words at the conclusion of a telephone call, never "Goodbye."

He took pleasure in the simple things: a cup of coffee at the end of his meal, a dish of Friendly's pistachio ice cream, and reading the newspaper, section by section, undisturbed. He also loved giving directions with authority. "Well, what you want to do is take a left at the next street and then go down for about two miles but beware of the construction once you cross the railroad tracks." As he described the twists and turns I was about to encounter, he would trace the route in the air with his pointer finger.

He was the kind of guy that paid his bills on time and always had a stamp. He liked his routines and prided himself on his organizational skills. I remember rifling through his office as a child. He had a big, orange office chair upholstered in the world's scratchiest fabric ever. It could recline and had wheels which provided hours of amusement for my young self. Everything on his desk had its proper place; you can be sure that the paper clips and rubber bands had a designated spot in the top desk drawer. Even as an eight-year-old, that attention to order impressed me.

It wasn't until I was much older that I learned about the quiet courage that defined his life. As a medical technician in the Second World War, he helped liberate a concentration camp and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. For his birthday last year, my mother compiled a scrapbook of the documents surrounding his years in the service. There were news articles and official letters detailing his deployments. Leafing through it, it was evident that he was a true hero, but you would never hear it from him.

Also found in the scrapbook were the dozens of love letters he penned to my Grandmother while he was stationed overseas. A devoted husband and father, his family meant everything to him. One of my favorite stories of his was how he fought tooth and nail to come home from the War to see Vivian by her first birthday. He managed to do it, just in the nick of time.

And, he clearly adored my Grandmother. She was the love of his life. They were a package deal: soulmates, best friends, a true, beautiful marriage. Although they shared 65 wonderful years together, it still feels too short.

I was afraid that in losing him, our family would feel fractured. But, by honoring him it will only bring us closer together. I was afraid that it would feel empty now that he's gone, but his memory will be a constant presence for us to find solace.

We have so much to thank him for. Through his sacrifices, he built the foundation for our family to proper. I look around today and see his legacy reflected in us, his grandchildren. His dignity, his compassion, and his loving spirit lives on in us and he will never be forgotten.

He was loved very much. He will be missed very much. And, he will always be ours, very much in our hearts.

Wow, Our Flyer Totally Looks Fat

One of the flyers we made for our upcoming Shmitten Kitten Art Show made it on to a party pic page for last night's Belle and Sebastian dance party.

Great. Now everyone is gonna talk about how cool our flyer thinks it is since it was splashed across a party pic blog. Maybe our flyer will develop an eating disorder and start making our with--gasp!--younger flyers that it met at the Barbary over the weekend. Maybe our flyer will start a blog about dating in Philly and draw sketches of other flyers. Ok, that last part was just silly.

Seriously, thanks Yapsnaps for the love. It made me smile!

In other Shmit Kit news, Shannon and I were interviewed by the City Paper about our blog. It should run in this week's issue. I'll post up the link when it runs.

After interviewing bands for the last 12 years, this was the first time that I was the subject of the interview. It was really...unnerving! It was strange, but fun. I spent the entire time trying to crack Shannon up, which is what I do most of the time anyway. I'm really excited about it and I hope the article says nice things about us!

I had my graduation party yesterday and it was truly a lovely, lovely time. A huge bear hug goes out to Ruthie and Joey for hosting it and heaps of kisses and high-fives goes out to my amazing friends that came out to help me celebrate. It meant so much to me that I was able to honor this personal accomplishment with my loved ones. Ok, I'm getting mushy now so I'll stop.

THIS

is freakin' hysterical.

I'm On the Scene, Billy Jean

Did you see the On-the-Scene Report about last night's My Chemical Romance concert that I wrote for Philebrity this afternoon? No?

Well, check it out!

The show was fantastic, except for the totally awful crowd. Taking Back Sunday did a surprise set that knocked my socks off. Gerard Way was totally hot except for when he did these little effeminate hip shake flourishes. I cringestormed.

A huge thanks goes out to Joey and Ruth for hooking me up. It was a total blast, even if I had to hang out with hillbillies for a night. And, thanks to my sister Rachel for rocking out with me.

Come to This!