... That's gonna leave a mark.

I'll make this post short and sweet. Just throwing up the links to a couple recent slideshows I've done for Citypages:
Solera "Communion" Opening Party 5.30.2010
Paul Van Dyk at Epic 5.21.2010

Solera was an absolute blast; I can't wait to spend my Sunday afternoons on the rooftop enjoying sangria in the sun. Paul Van Dyk was also quite the show -- the stage set-up was unlike anything I've seen in a while.  The few photos I've uploaded thus far don't really do the lighting and stage justice, so just hold your horses for now. (Many more shots from both shows to be uploaded soon. I think I took over 300 photos at PVD.) The only bummer about PVD was the epic fall I took on stage after tripping (curse you, secret stage parts covered in black cloth in the dark!), and the only bad part about Solera was the hangover I was nursing on Monday (4pm-2am will do that to a girl). Coming up, photos from this Friday's Solid Gold show at First Ave; next weekend I've got Kaskade to shoot, too.  With that, I'll post some music.

New release from disco house favorite LLR:
Louis La Roche - Missing You (w/ Ad-Apt)

Speaking of disco, Grum just released a full album called "Heartbeats." It's cheesy, but it's got a couple gems, such as "Runaway." Love it.

A new video popped up from Lolla artist Stars today (video's kind of lame but the song is damn catchy... very Metric-esque, IMO):

Five Functional Fashion Faux-Pas

...The alliteration stops here, I promise. 

Memorial Day Weekend is a few hours away, which means summer is officially here. Gladiator sandals, jumpsuits, over-the-knee socks... bring on the warm-weather fashion trends.  Let's take a look at five trends that would make our lives easier if they'd just hurry up and become trendy already.

 #1. Fanny Packs
I'll start with the most obvious choice -- the infamous fanny pack. Although the nomenclature hasn't evolved, the bag itself has. This unisex purse-meets-backpack is rarely worn on the actual fanny in the back -- it's much more stylish on your hip. Gone are the days when fanny packs are reserved for trips to Valleyfair or Como Zoo; with the recent  resurgence of the F.P. (thanks, hipsters!), you can find them en masse at your local Urban Outfitters or American Apparel. Bonus: they now come in many more varieties and colors than your standard black nylon. Regardless of the fashionable or unfashionable nature of the F.P., they sure are functional, giving you easy-access to your shit. Whether it's your ironic sunglasses & pack of cigs or your 75 SPF sunscreen & extra moist towelettes at the ready, the F.P. is there for you... and Chuck Norris.


#2. Croakies
Never forget!  Although still popular with fishermen, hunters, and just with dads in general, I would venture to say the sunglass strap, a.k.a. "the Croakie" is no longer in vogue in most social circles. This is not to say they don't serve their purpose; on the contrary, these bitches serve up extreme functionality. Attach one of these bad boys to your Ray Bans or your Oaklies (or Fauxklies for the more frugal among us) and fuggedaboutit. Don't worry about stretching out your shades with your big forehead. Stop checking your hair in that mirror. No need to hook your sunglasses on your Lacoste collar or shoving one sunglass arm into your cleavage. Excessively-sweaty? Who cares! Let those shades slide right off your face. Croakie's got your back.


#3. Cell Phone Belt Clip
Obama's doing it, so it must be cool. Or, at the very least, acceptable. Right? While I do not see the functionality of a cell phone clip for women (if you're not using a purse then you've got your fanny pack!), I do understand the appeal for men. I suppose the bluetooth ear piece isn't for everyone, and not everyone feels comfortable rocking the man-purse. And unless you're wearing cargo pants, some pockets just aren't big enough.  While I've owned both a fanny pack and a hot pink croakie in my day, I've never rocked the cell phone belt clip. Mostly because I usually don't wear belts. I did, however, own a transparent green beeper circa 1998 and I would clip that on the outside of my jeans... apparently to let people know how awesome I was. Never miss a call again with your cell phone just in reach. Make sure to pair this look with an equally un-cool obnoxious ringtone, and you're in business. Can we dig it? Yes we can!




#4. Comfortable Women's Shoes

"There's a Clarks to fit every lifestyle." Really? Is there?  I recently embarked on a journey to shoe stores around the Twin Cities metro, in search of a comfortable, yet fashionable, sandal. Really I was looking for a summer sandal in which I could handle an all-day Solera rooftop marathon (or the like).  You know... dancing shoes. Turns out, the shoe I had conjured up in my mind doesn't exist in reality. There are shoes for the fashion-conscious, with lots of bells and whistles  -- I think they're called 'embellishments' in the industry :) -- then there are shoes for waitresses, nurses, and other careers where you're on your feet all day.  And apparently, if you're on your feet all day, you could care less if you have an empty box of kleenex duct taped around your foot (just so long as it's comfy!), because there are no cute, comfortable shoes. Well, hold on. Let me clarify: They are few and far between. Some companies, such as Nine West or Liz Claiborne, make stylish shoes that are pretty comfortable. They're bearable to go out in, or walk around in, but give it a few hours and your dogs will be barking.  Shoes that cater to the older crowd that has traded cuteness for ultra-comfort, such as Clarks, Born, Naturalizer, what have you... well let's just say, when it comes to stylish shoes, they're trying, but not hard enough. Things would be so much easier for the fairer sex if, like Uggs did a few years ago, these kinds of shoes would just end up on runways as the "new hot thing this season." (Editor's note: I got a couple pairs of Aerosoles sandals, but the jury's still out.)


#5. Hoodless Sweatshirts

Since I've covered mostly summer fashions thus far, I figured I needed to round out my list with some winter apparel. And what's more comfortable on a cold day than throwing on a hoodie? I'll tell you what is: a non-hoodie. College kids have got it all wrong, man. Those hoods are obtrusive; they get all stiff and bunched up on the back of your neck. If you're thinking about wearing a winter coat on top of a hoodie, you'll need a buddy to help flatten the hood out over the coat's collar. You'll also need a coat that's sized appropriately, because that's a lot of extra material you're adding. Instead, let's go back to those Champion sweatshirts and just nix the hood. Who actually wears the hood up, anyway? These golden oldies could stand for a few improvements, though. Let's loosen up the cuffs so they don't cut off circulation; the neck opening could use a bit more elasticity, as well.  The popularity of ugly Christmas sweater parties (and again, the hipsters) have already started the Hoodless Sweatshirt Renaissance, so all we need to do is keep the dream alive.



Honorable Mentions

Visors: Sometimes sunglasses just don't cut it, and no one likes hat hair.

Biker Shorts: Arguably one of the least-flattering fashions of the last century, they still served their purpose. After all, leggings aren't appropriate when it's 99% humidity in August.


Stirrup Leggings: You pull up the waistband, your leggings become capris. Which is fine if you're wearing heels, but not so great if you're wearing boots or booties. Unless this is the Victoria era and a flash of ankle is scandalously sexual.

Umbros: Easy, breezy, not-so-beautiful.

... Don't lick the dish until it cools down.

Alright kids, I'm giving up my stand-by hors d'o-- hors d'oeuvr-- ahh screw it, my favorite party appetizer.  I've made this dozens of times, even trying a few variations here and there (substituting different cheese or low-cal ingredients) -- I did try to adapt the recipe to be acceptable in the crock pot (imagine... bubbling, cheesy dip, piping hot for hours instead of the fleeting few moments right out of the oven with the original version), but I've yet to figure that one out without making a big burnt cheese mess to deal with at the end. We'll stick to the Rachael Ray original here, with a few pro tips.

Gather round, ingredients:
- 8 slices center-cut bacon
- 8 ounces cream cheese, softened
- 1/2 cup mayo
- 2 rounded teaspoons Dijon mustard
- 1.5 cups of shredded Swiss cheese
- 3 scallions
- 1/2 cup or more of chopped "smoked" almonds

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.  Take the package of the cream cheese out of the fridge and set out on the counter to soften it up a bit. Fry up the bacon (or microwave if you prefer, whatever floats your boat), let air dry on paper towels. I like to make the bacon pretty crispy -- it chops up easier and adds a bit more crunch in the dip. Chop up the scallions and bacon to small pieces (the smaller the better, in my opinion -- remember this is going to be dip, so the perfect scoop of dip should have bacon and scallion).

Grab a medium-sized mixing bowl, and throw in the mayo, mustard, and cream cheese. One and a half cups of shredded Swiss cheese is three-quarters of a normal size package of pre-shredded Kraft or Sargento cheese, but if you wanted to be fancy with it you could grate your own. The cheese goes in the bowl, too, as does the scallion and bacon bits. Stir it all together with a spatula. Transfer the mixture into a small baking dish or casserole (a glass pie dish is perfect), and lightly smash it down a bit. Don't worry about flattening it out all nice smooth, it's gonna melt. It should look something like this:

It may look yummy, but trust me, this isn't brownie batter, resist licking the spatula unless you enjoy a spoonful of mayo from time to time.  If the oven's ready to go, throw the dish in there and set the timer for 15 minutes.

While the dip is baking, you can use a Slap Chop or the like to chop up some smoked almonds for the top. You can also use a chopping knife, but I find the seasoning on the smoked almonds flies everywhere when chopping with a knife. You may be tempted to buy the pre-sliced package of "sliced almonds" in the grocery store-- don't do it. Unless some grocery store carries the smoky ones already chopped up, which I've never seen. Grab a little can that says "Smokehouse" on it and chop those suckers up, pretty coarsely unless you want almond dust on the top of your dip.

After 15 minutes (or a few more, depending on your oven it could be more like 17 or 18 minutes -- look for bubbling, golden brown edges), take the dish out and sprinkle your chopped almonds all over the top. Have some crackers or carrots or bread or your hand ready to dig right in -- this baby's best right out of the oven. My dipping tool of choice is those flat pretzel crisps.  Enjoy -- it will go fast, and your guests will ask what's in it. A plus: it reheats alright (oven > microwave) -- not that you'll have any leftover. Mmmmm, cheese and bacon.

... It's the number one new track on Pitchfork.

A new single called "Celestica" from Crystal Castles has been all over the internet this last week. Did anyone expect anything less than awesome?



Also, this video is taken with a much cooler and newer version of my SLR, the Canon 7D.  Jealous. Who wants to buy me one?

... Yes, Roger Ebert, you're a square.

Shall I have feelings, or should I pretend to be cool? Will I seem hopelessly square if I find “Kick-Ass” morally reprehensible and will I appear to have missed the point?... A movie camera makes a record of whatever is placed in front of it, and in this case, it shows deadly carnage dished out by an 11-year-old girl, after which an adult man brutally hammers her to within an inch of her life. Blood everywhere. 
          - Roger Ebert's Review of 'Kick Ass'

Ebert used to be my go-to guy for movie reviews. Unfortunately for me (alright, alright... more so for him), he had a stroke, and now he's about as reliable as that mood ring I purchased at Afterthoughts in the mall circa 1993.  While he's never been much for appreciating the element of surprise, often relying on revealing entirely too much about the plot in his reviews, I can almost always find something we both agree upon. In this case, he points out in his scathing review that the movie has untapped potential. I wholeheartedly agree, but it's where that potential lies that Rog and I disagree.

'Kick Ass' flip-flopped a bit too much for me. It's like it couldn't quite decide what kind of movie it was. Am I watching a satire on comic books? Or on comic-book-inspired movies? An homage? A farce? Forgiving myself for not being familiar with the original material, I ignored these questions and just decided to roll with it. But they kept popping up. There's a scene when our heroes are in dire straits and the familiar voice of the protagonist narrates that the audience member is probably reassuring himself that everything is going to be okay... but that he should stop expecting a happy ending. Besides, hadn't we seen 'Sin City'? This voice-over made the wannabe-cinephile in me wish there was more of this kind of material, crafted towards those in the audience who were "in the know." But that's been done... sort of... (The best example I can think of is 'Hot Fuzz' for action movies... I'm having a hard time thinking of a comic-book-specific example... if one exists.)

And while the dark humor of the movie (i.e. the way we're introduced to Big Daddy and Hit Girl, involving some father-daughter target practice) might point to making fun of the genre, I never really felt like that's what director Matthew Vaughn was trying to convey. So, let's just assume the ludicrousness of it all is supposed to lead to its inherent awesomeness. I can dig that. (But then again, other parts of the movie seem to be throwing reality in the face of the typical comic book plots: Our hero's first attempt at fighting crime almost sends him home in a body bag.)  As one article states, "Yes, it’s transgressive to have a young female character portrayed as a non-stop killing machine, but no more so than it is absurd, and therein lies the zest of the comedy."

The early scenes give promise of an entirely different comedy. Aaron Johnson has a certain anti-charm, his problems in high school are engaging, and so on. ... Say what you will about her character, but Chloe Grace Moretz has presence and appeal. Then the movie moved into dark, dark territory, and I grew sad. 

Yet again, Strokey McStrokerton is back to his old tricks. Don't be sad, Roger! That "dark, dark territory" redeems the entire movie! Maybe I'm cynical, or trying too hard to be one of the cool kids, or maybe it's because the back of my drivers license reads "Firearm Safety" because of that course I took in 6th grade (age 11, for the record). But speaking for myself, I could have done with less mediocre teen comedy and more shoot-outs and martial arts scenes.

That's literally my only complaint about the movie.  It seemed a bit disjointed: one minute we're chuckling at the awkward teenager jerking off to droopy boobs, the next minute we're watching a guy explode in an industrial-sized lumber microwave. I realize movies need to set up the characters, but come on, it's rated R! Maybe it was a pacing problem. Once I caught a glimpse of an 11-year-old going all "Bride on the Crazy 88's" and saving Kick Ass's ass in that apartment, I thought we had left the land of slightly funny coming-of-age B.S.; I was ready to buckle my seatbelt for the rest of the movie. Sadly, I had to wait until the very end for the climactic shoot-out scenes to be fully satisfied. 

But oh, what a climax. I wish I could fulfill the prophecy that is the name of this blog and give it all away, but that goes against my principles. :) The first time I'd ever seen a shoot-out sequence filmed in pitch black was in 'Equilibrium' and I was blown away then, too. The addition of a maniacal Nic Cage and the shooter being prepubescent made it all the more epic. Roger Ebert would probably call me a bloodthirsty sociopath for thinking there needed to be more of this kind of thing in 'Kick Ass' -- but at least I remain a safe distance aware from "square," because that's obviously what it's all about for us crazy kids.

... It's the sound of my shoes.

There was an old woman who lived in her shoes. That woman, apparently, is me.  Now, I always knew I had a lot of shoes.  So it came as no surprise to me, when I went through my closet today looking for a minimum of a dozen pairs of shoes to donate, that I found 25 pairs to part with. Three of which I was able to sell to a consignment store (woohoo sixteen dollars!); apparently the remaining pairs will be appearing at your local Goodwill store, next to the Babysitters Club CD-ROM or Deepak Chopra book on tape.

Quickly earning the nickname Imelda from my mom (after Imelda Marcos, known for owning 3,000 pairs of shoes), I knew I must own my fair share of footwear, but had never before counted.  However, while I'm happy to report I only own the equivalent of 3% of Imelda's legacy (in number alone and not monetary value, I'm sure -- I clocked in at 106 pairs before donations), my collection was a little astounding to say the least. I mean, some of these shoes I was wearing before I was of legal drinking age (a.k.a. I remember wearing a particular pair of said shoes while taking shots of gin with a gin and grape juice chaser in the dorms... don't tell the R.A.)  To my defense, I narrowed it down to only a dozen pairs of flip-flops, and nearly half my shoes are stored as winter shoes or boots. Still, I feel a little like if I'm not careful I'm gonna wind up on the next episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive.

... You don't already know this from my Facebook.

Facebook is starting to freak me out.  I realized long ago, some time between graduating from college and present day, it became totally acceptable to be an online stalker.  At one point the only way to navigate through Facebook was to stalk (crunk juice stalk it out). Your start page was your own profile, and if you wanted to find out what’s up with your friends or that certain someone you have an unhealthy obsession with, you simply searched for their profile page and looked to see if they’d recently updated their favorite movies, quotes, or if someone had written on the graffiti-esque “wall” (totally editable by all users).

Then came the dawn of the “feed,” and OMG.  Even lackadaisical Facebook users are now taunted to stalk as much as humanly possible upon each log on.  Eventually a routine I referred to as my “rounds” (the profiles I regularly check up on) faded away; now it’s just constant scrolling through the feed to see what’s the haps with everyone I know (and a pretty sizeable amount I don’t know).   As I’m sure is the case with many people, I’ve never met a sizeable portion of my friends list. Many others I haven’t spoken to in years. Oh, and just because we met once doesn’t automatically constitute the bond of Facebook friendship.

But all of this I’ve come to accept. It’s a new era; people operate differently... and I’m getting “old” and “out of touch,” whatever. In some ways, it’s good; people are friendlier. I’ve gotten to know some pretty awesome people I probably wouldn’t have even met if not for the internet and social networking sites.  In fact, I’ve become pretty good friends with a few folks who knew me first only from my online personality.

What is starting to “freak me out,” as I stated previously, is the slow decline of people’s ability to engage in conversation in real life (IRL if you will). People are seemingly becoming more and more dependent on the shelter and comfort of socializing alone from his or her bedroom.  After all, you can craft your responses with much more consideration; it’s easier to be witty when response time isn’t an issue.  I feel like younger kids will grow up primarily texting and Facebooking their friends and it honestly scares me a little bit.

The sole reason for my recent plunge into fear of Facebook, though, is the fact that I am losing the ability to participate in small talk.  And it’s not me – it’s all you stalkers.  Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m still hanging on to this idea that “stalking is bad.”  Just like you wouldn’t admit to driving by someone’s house – should you admit you’ve memorized every single Facebook update within the past few weeks? I keep my mouth shut, lest I exude excessive creepiness.

For example, let’s say it’s been a week or so since I’ve seen a friend. I catch up with her for a movie, for dinner, at an event of some kind, whatever… and we begin with the typical “How’ve you been?” crap. After we both answer “same shit, different day” in so many words, I launch into some sort of story this friend hasn’t heard first hand since last I saw her. Now, maybe this tale is only vaguely entertaining, but it’s gotta have a hint of intrigue, annoyance, or humor in order for me to find it worth telling.  About a sentence into my story, however, I’m cut off by this mystery friend. “Oh yeah, I saw that on your Facebook!”

My immediate reaction to that is similar to the reaction I’d have if you’d cut me off with, “Cool story, Hansel” paired with a haughty smirk or rolling of the eyes. I’m gonna pretty much shut down. You’ve assumed the one sentence from me on your Facebook feed that alluded to the story I was about to regale you with… that was the whole story. Or, at the very least, that’s all you wanted to hear. Seriously, I’m starting to develop some sort of complex here. Either my stories are unbearingly lengthy and/or boring, or no one else has problems admitting how much of a stalker they truly are.

I could choose to update my Facebook status less often, but therein lies a dilemma. I have a pretty awful memory when it comes to remembering to tell people things. Like seriously, if I have something to chat with you about, or something funny to tell you, I’m going to email or call or text you right away, otherwise when you ask me what’s new later, I’ll draw a blank and respond lamely with, “Oh, you know… nothing much.”

Maybe I’ll just start saying, “Please refer to my Facebook page.”