Sun Is In The Sky, Why, Oh Why?

Hey! It's still freezing. I know it probably sounds like I'm over harping this, and should let it go, but honestly, it's become the biggest part of my life right now. As soon as you get inside, all anyone will talk about is how cold it is - and this doesn't spring from the awkward feeling of not knowing someone that well so you talk about the weather - people actually care. This is an actual conversation I overheard at the movies today: "So I killed a bear today. I made a coat out of him" "Where did you find a bear?" "Lincoln Park Zoo." "Is it warm?" "It was, but once it gave off most of it's bear steam, it was just kind of heavy, and then the blood started to freeze." "Damn, that sucks." "Yeah I know. Like, this bear had cubs too. I looked them in the eyes as I turned their mother into a coat." "What did you do with it?" "I threw it into a dumpster."

So, to summarize - cold. Which is why I'm excited for Thursday, when I get to see Lily Allen at the Metro, as part of her American coming out tour that kicked off tonight on SNL. It all seemed silly to me back in the summer, why Capitol would wait to release an album that was so sunny and fun in the middle of January. When its cold. (I'm not even kidding, I think Lake Michigan finally gave in and froze over) But I kind of see the appeal right now, because I'm looking forward to Thursday, hoping that it will be the one spot in the week when something is actually able to take my mind off of the facts that despite an entire tube of Burts Bees my lips have chapped open into a series of painful opens sores. And to their credit, Capital does honestly seem to be pushing her - the major television appearances, these Mtv spots:

But is it working? Asking around my school, no one has heard of Lily Allen. I put on 'LDN' the other night at a party, and the kids who had been giggle dancing their way through 'Thriller' seconds before (Art School Kids don't sincerely dance, I've learned that now) all kind of stopped. Oh, but if you put some Of Montreal song about turning into a penguin on, they'll be right back out there, giggling.

Anyway, here's Lily's newest video, for 'Alfie'. It's basically a literal interpretation of the song, which usually doesn't work - I'm looking at you, every Men At Work video ever made - except her brother is played by a puppet. It's basically 'My Cousin Skeeter', but with more cute English girls, less Bill Bellamy, and I'm guessing about the same amount of weed. Seriously, someone must have been injecting Drain-O into their vains to think that show was a good idea.

Seriously God, Why You Gotta Be Like That?

There are moments in life when I think God enjoys being a dick - not in a malicious way, but like, if you were drinking buddies with God, and you passed out, he would totally sharpie a moustache onto your face right underneath the spot on your forehead where he wrote "I'm the guy who sucks." And as hard as you wash, you just can't get that off of your head before its time for that job meeting. "That was kind of a dick thing to do God." "Well, you should have cut yourself off man. You brought it on yourself." And he's right. Because he's all omni like that.

Anyway, this came up because someone decided that it should be -5 degrees while I partake in my yearly 'Catching Up With The Oscar Nominees To Ease The Pain Of My Lacking Social Life Routine', or 'February', to most people. And that negative five wasn't some sort of whimsical exaggeration - that's actually the temperature right now. Without the wind. And you best believe that there's wind. Because there is hella wind. I'm constantly walking around looking like I'm the middle of a seizure because I'm trying to keep my beard from freezing to my face.

And seeing as how it only looks to be getting worse (the high for tomorrow? A balmy 3 degrees!), I'll probably write more in here, since I've already done my homework for the week - and its not like I'm going to read or anything.

Oh, and also - Go Bears.

The Return Of What Once Was

I was staring at the marquee of the Aragon theater as it flashed "Miller Time: 3:14, Miller Temp 22", as I waited for a bus which after twenty minutes I was pretty sure only existed in the imagination of the Mexican man leaning on the Red Eye box next to me. This was all after about an hours worth of waiting for trains with drunk Indian men, drunk college students with sandwiches who wouldn't stop talking about how much they were in love with their sandwiches, and a different set of drunk college students who thought it would be a good idea to toss a traffic cone across the El tracks, and then sit and dangle their legs over the edge like they were fishing in Mayberry. All of this, by the way, occurred the night before the Bears won the NFC Championship - this was just the unprovoked, normal amount of drunken revelry you'll find in the city on a Saturday night. As I finally gave in and started to hail a cab, I just kind of looked around and thought... hmm, I'm back in Chicago.

Which means I'll start writing in here again, if you still care to read. I felt kind of lazy while I was home, so lazy in fact, rather than explain why I didn't write in my blog, I'll let Michael Showalter do it. He basically sums it all up in a funnier way than I can. Also, he talks of shitting his pants in the Berkshires, something I think we can all relate to. Or at least I can. Also check out Showalter going all Charlie Rose on Zach Galifianakis' ass in the Michael Showalter Showalter. Watch him grill the bearded one about such pressing questions as "Seriously, you owe me some gas money."