5:55

iTunes now has Charlotte Gainsbourg's 5:55 (with BONUS TRACKS) available for download. I've been listening to it for a month, and I'm in love - buy it. Believe it. Live it.
But only if you want to.
Reason # 7,433 that I love the internet: this. And this. And this.
Ever since reading an excerpt in early college, I've looked for a copy of the complete Pepys' Diaries that cost less than $200.00. Never did. But now the internet is doing it for me - for free! In a blog! And it will only take around 8 years to complete! Seriously, though, I can't complain. I can read a couple of blog entries a day, but making it through a multiple-volume set of diaries by a mid-1600's Englishman seems kind of difficult. It would probably take me 8 years to get through, anyway.
One more thing... in case anyone out there was wondering, saving money is hard. I have made a resolution of sorts to stop buying crap, pay a few bills, and maybe save to do the traveling I'm always dreaming about. But it's not easy. In the past few years, I haven't exactly thought of myself as a spendthrift, but come on... there are Flaming Lips albums to buy, and a Diana Vreeland autobiography I've wanted to order. This is going to take strength, I can tell. I need a snack. I think I'll tear into that tangerine I've been thinking about all day, then go to bed.

Addendum

In my last post, I mistakenly attributed the modern classic "OHH You Touch My Tra-la-la" to Royskopp. The real artist is apparently Gunther. To whomever might have been hurt by this, please accept my heartfelt apology.

A list. Because I love lists.

• In the house next door to mine, a kid is having a drum lesson. On a full drum kit. I know this because it is making my brain throb, ever so gently. I realize that future Ringo or Charlie or whoever needs practice (a LOT, by the way), but damn. It's Saturday morning. Why can't they be like the kid in Love Actually and teach her/himself in her/his own bedroom in, like, a week to drum effortlessly? Of course, If I hadn't thrown back those 3 drinks in 20 minutes last night, my brain might not be hurting at all, so this entire rant could be moot.
• "Moot" is a weird word. The most famous use of it is in Rick Springfield's "Jessie's Girl," when he says "...I want to tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot." It sounds like something they'd say in 1941, like the words "chippie," "moxy," and "broad."
• CalamityRose and I have an idea to pitch to Guthy-Reinker, or whoever sells those music compilations on late-night tv. It's going to be called "Crappy Hilarious Gay Techno Anthems." Due to a misguided wave of Tone Loc nostalgia and a well-meaning cousin who had a subscription to Entertainment Weekly in 1998, I own copies of both "Maximum Dance" (yes, both volumes) and "Hot Dance Mix." These have a few of the afore-mentioned anthems we want to include on our compilation. Mostly, though, I want these songs on it: "OHH You Touch My Tra-la-la" by Royskopp, "What is Love" by Haddaway, "You Better Work" by RuPaul, "Barbie Girl" by Aqua, and "Blue" by...crap, I forgot. As the creator of the compilation, I cannot be bothered by such trifles as artists of the songs. I am open to other suggestions.
• I LOVE SATURDAY. The only immediate plans I have for today involve a quilt, pillow, couch, and Ocean's 11. I will probably be asleep in the first 10 minutes.
• That is all.