Monthly Archives: January 2010

Run Lola Run

I am getting ready to leave the house to run the Houston half-marathon. The half isn’t actually until next week, Sunday the 17th, but I am running the course today, taking my time to do the whole thing, as my final long-run before the actual race.

I keep blowing my own mind when I think that less than a year ago I was training just to get through six miles. I remember thinking then, Hey, this is half of a half marathon.

Running’s been all in my head lately too. I was reading the wiki entry on Haruki Murakami and discovered that he is an ultra-marathoner, but that he didn’t start running until he was 33. Other people I recently found out were runners include Peter Sagal and Kai Ryssdal.

For Christmas last year CLH bought me a Garmin Forerunner 205. I’ve since graduated to a 305 (with heart rate monitor) and the toy has been amazing because it’s allowed me to nerd out by turning running into a numbers game. I’m all about the data. During hard runs I have to concentrate in order to prevent myself from looking at the watch every 30 seconds. But it’s also been a great motivator. In 2009, I ran 392.88 total miles, and that’s even taking six weeks off for tendinitis around May and also being pretty lazy in general about training.

I would marry Kristin Wiig if it were legal in my state

Bay Guardian can seize Village Voice Media assets around the country

This story, about predatory pricing between alt weeklies in San Francisco, is mildly terrifying in what it might mean for the future of my paycheck. Follow-up.

Chili for chilly weather

When I did my run yesterday morning it was 20º outside, which might not seem too cold if you’re from, say Chicago, but Houston is having its coldest winter in something like 17 years and it feels downright apocalyptic.

I came home, took the hottest shower I could handle, then spent the rest of the day bundled up in bed trying to figure out why my face felt so hot. I left the house only to see a truly horrible concert, then came home again and crawled right back under the covers.

The day before the cold front hit CLH made a huge pot of our friend’s award-winning vegetarian chili and I can swear to you it is the best chili I have ever eaten. It’s been getting us through this cold front better than My Antonia and Eastern Promises consumed in front of a space heater ever could.

When I eat vegetarian, I don’t normally eat fake meats, usually just eat veggie-only meals. But the fakemeat crumbles in this chili give it a more authentic texture. I’m not crazy about canned veggies, but I do like to use Kroger’s organic brand for the canned tomatoes and beans. But that doesn’t help you if you don’t live near a Korger, now does it. Sorry. I also substitute hominy for the corn because I can’t stand canned yellow corn. This chili is easy to make, quick, and one pot will last you for days. Recipe below: (more…)

Ain’t got no schoolin’

While doing YouTube research for a story on New Year’s resolutions I stumbled across this super-funky version of Nina Simone.

Jay Reatard

I was out of the house all day yesterday. When I got home, the first thing I saw on Twitter was that Jay Reatard had died.

Jay Reatard

A month ago I saw Reatard at Walter’s on Washington, and reviewed the show for the The Press. Jay Reatard called me an asshole in the comments. I liked him, and his music.

There was a ‘roided out dude at the Houston show who walked into the venue, bought a Reatard t-shirt, immediately ripped the sleeves off and put the shirt on. Halfway through the show he was alternating between passed out and throwing punches in the pit. Security guards had to drag him out. After the show, he returned to Walter’s, and apparently shots were fired, either by the bouncers or by the dude. By that time I was happily at home in bed. I didn’t learn about until the next morning. The very next night, Reatard was attacked on stage by members of the audience at his Austin show. The guy was a provocateur, but he was mostly talk, mostly show.

Reatard recorded an extensive collection of singles spanning a variety of musical influences. He had a lot of potential to influence bands younger than him. He was 29 years old.

The Sweater

From Ask MetaFilter:

Help me ID this song from the ’80s: This is a song about a sweater, how it possibly unravels, or involves a boy and a girl, and would have been played on the radio as a new release in the 1980s. Not Weezer’s Sweater Song, something different! It was odd (maybe a novelty song?), involving more spoken language than actual singing. King Missile’s Detachable P*nis always reminded me of this earlier song for some reason. I’ve been trying to figure out this song for years, and any searching I do turns up Weezer, and that’s not it. I remember it getting a lot of radio play in Knoxville, TN where I grew up, some time during the 1980s.

It’s pretty awesome. Oh to be a teenage girl again.

Update: Apparently Meryn Cadell never wanted to be a teenage girl in the first place.

Radio star

Last week I was contacted by KUT 90.5 FM in Austin to see if I was willing to be interviewed for their Texas Music Matters radio show. Typically TMM focuses on Austin bands but occasionally they reach out to music journalists elsewhere to see what bands are making waves in other Texas towns. On Wednesday I went to KUHF to record my segment over their fancy pants hi-def phone lines. I talked about a band from Houston I’m super psyched about, Roky Moon and Bolt.

I’ve done radio before, but it’s been a looong time. I was really nervous, so I kind of come off sounding wooden. You can listen online here. My segment starts at about the 31-minute mark, but the whole show is worth listening to so you can get a sneak preview of the new Spoon album and other awesome Texas musicians.

BTW, David Brown’s voice is just as soothing over the phone as it is on the radio. This was a lot of fun and I’m hoping it turns into a regular collaboration. Next time around I’ll sound a bit more relaxed. Now is the point where I gush about how awesome my job is. I am so grateful to be able to combine two things I love — music and journalism.

Dirty Boots

Every time I hear this song (which is not as often as it should be) I have the memory of seeing this video for the first time on MTV’s 120 Minutes, which I used to watch in the summers, curled up on the living room floor with my pillow and NKOTB sleeping bag, all the lights off save for the big screen TV. I was TEN YEARS OLD when Goo came out, but I must have been 11 or 12 when I first saw the video, the climactic kiss at the end (as I can’t imagine my mom letting me stay up that late otherwise), and I dreamed of one day being as cool as the girl in the Nirvana shirt. I knew there was no way I’d ever be as cool as the woman on stage.

I’m listening to it now as I’m packing my bag for tomorrow’s race and 5 a.m. wake-up call. I know I won’t be able to sleep tonght.

Free at Last

The Lorraine Motel on our 2008 visit to Memphis, TN.

Bib #33799

My finish in the Aramco Houston Half Marathon at 2:27:30, under my goal of 2:30 with room to spare, and right at 50% compared to the other runners. It was my first half marathon, and my second race ever. It was hard but I know I could have pushed myself harder. It’s still a PR!

You can see me throw up my hands as I cross the line. I am wearing a black shirt with a white bib and black tights. I’m in the middle left. A funny thing about this video — the hoopla guy at the finish like keeps yelling my name, but my name was not on the bib. Another girl who finished right in front of me was named Brittany.

I wrote up my emotional experience for the Houston Press. I’ve basically been tweeting and bragging about it constantly. But I am going to keep gloating until the buzz wears off. So get over it.

Me gusta la Vespa

Helmet Hair Magazine, a Texas-based magazine catering to women who ride motorcycles, has branched into covering the scooterist lifestyle too. I have a column in their brand new section, Scooteristas Unite.

Soul Nite

CLH and I got married at the original Aurora Picture Show church and yet, in all our years together and in Houston we’ve never been members. We go to tons of their events and pay full price for each one, and we’ve always talked about joining but just never have.

Until Friday.

All last week I was psyched about going to Soul Nite. I even interviewed the curator. Friday afternoon we decided that instead of paying $10 each for tickets, we’d splurge and finally become members of Aurora. Giving back to the organization that gave us a place to get hitched.

On Saturday we met our scooter club at the Eldorado Ballroom and danced until the curls fell out of my hair.

Record dress

Writing :: running

From Writing Down the Bones:

Some days you don’t want to run and you resist every step of the three miles, but you do it anyway. You practice whether you want to or not. You don’t wait around for inspiration and a deep desire to run. It’ll never happen, especially if you are out of shape and have been avoiding it. But if you run regularly, you train your mind to cut through or ignore your resistance. You just do it. And in the middle of the run, you love it. When you come to the end, you never want to stop. And you stop, hungry for the next time.

Okay. Now replace every instance of the word run above with the word write. Nail? Meet hammer.

I have never been a fan of writing how-to books. Mostly because I’ve always *known* that in order to be a good writer, you must first be a regular writer, and I don’t need a book to tell me that writing is work, meaning you must do it every day even when you don’t feel like it. But apparently I DID need a book to tell me that, because in all the times I’ve read that exact advice it has never hit home as much as the paragraph above did.

Maybe that’s because I just finished more than two months of training for a half marathon. I couldn’t have woken up last week, not having prepared in advance, and run that 13.1 miles. Just like I won’t be able to wake up tomorrow morning and write a novel from beginning to end. And on days when it’s 20 degrees outside and the dog is warming my lap and I’m halfway through a good book, I still go out and run. But on the days I don’t feel like writing, I don’t write, and I sit around waiting for something revolutionary to happen, some muse to swoop down on golden wings and lead me to the Big Idea.

It’s time to start training.

My Friday night