Monday, December 1, 2008

Animal Rummy

I met Mr. Robert Oliver Jones at Flatstock 2008 during SXSW this year when he returned from his 30 minute cigarette break and although I (along with 20 other anxious fans) was thinking about stealing his "back in 10 minutes" sign (complete with a cowboy cigarette rendition and smiley face guy with x's for eyes), I also couldn't conceal my utter dislike of the guy. I later realized that this stemmed mostly from a jealous fear...but that's neither here nor there. He looked like a starving artist (which he certainly is not) in his pilled emo sweater and black frame glasses. Robert's pieces, rightfully so, sell for more than your average college dorm poster. By the time he did return a lot of people had left so I got to talk with him about some of his work.

WOW! He had a story and a reason behind every image, every moment every weather system...they told stories...and not just cool rock star stories....stories that linked St. Andrew to the cosmos and the soul capturing Yashica camera to the faraway feeling of a city skyline. There were times when what he was saying made perfect sense...he even had a sequential order that they fell into that coincided with where the band was touring. The posters, as well as the artist, are otherwordly. Pretentious and overpriced...but of another world for sure. I wanted him to doodle on a piece of paper for me so bad but was ashamed to ask...instead, I asked him to write his website down for me, with hopes that he would scribble a bit....He folded up the paper and handed it back to me. I was anxious to look at what he wrote but just stuck it in my over-sized bag of lanyards, stickers and cd's and scurried off to buy a $10 poster at a "real" starving artists booth. Flatstock is one of the best places on earth and would have been world's cooler if my boss wasn't waiting outside to drive me to the next showcase....

Oh yeah...the brown paper bag piece of paper that Robert gave me had no doodles...but it did say in red ink....You should check it out.
White Stripes - Empress Ballroom, Blackpool

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Me Gusta L'Independent Music Awards Finaliste...

Ahhh...another year of red, blue and green stickers behind us! The team here at MRG has put together the list of finalists for the IMA's!! Turns out, this year was more difficult than we could have imagined...hours of sitting around a table debating vocals, instrumentation, a bridge or who gets the last drop of coffee and Chips Ahoy. After discovering some pretty dope, up and coming, indie artists and falling for some new genres of music for my ipod library (seriously thinking of dropping e and going clubbing) we are all ready to dive back into our personal playlists.

Some of my favs from this year:
Joel Plaskett Emergency
- The "Fashionable People" track they entered is wonderfully poppy
The Parlotones
April Smith
I love her, she's playing Blender Theatre 12/21 and NJPAC 1/24
The Redwalls
(they are pretty mainstream now I think...but indie nonetheless)
Val Emmich (who submitted again, he is super poppy and won last year for this video
made an appearance as the gay hottie on 30 Rock (new episode tonight!!) and he's on Ugly Betty now....saw him live, he made us uncomfortable, but he's good. He's really a gay way)
The Swimmers (Anyone on the Mad Dragon Record Label is great Indie Rock)
Elephone (wowza...the singer is the guy from Monster Squad!!)
Born Ruffians
Fancey (album name = "Shmancey") <---- so clever =)

Casual Projects The video for "Move Along" is weird...I want to make a music video

El Guante
My brother Sean would LOVE them! I will have to let him know, but he's busy getting married this weekend!! =)
Sweatshop Union
They are from Canada...but they are REALLY good!
Wondur of Dynamic Vibrations

Folk/Singer Songwriter (if you're into it)
Anders Osborne
Kirsty McGee (That Tom Waits kinda thing...paired with Marie Couttliard (sp?) "La Vie En Rose")
Jim Boggia
Eric Wilson (lovely voice)

There are plenty others (in tons of other categories) you can discover for yourself....If you're really into it, you can check out the video finalists, (highly recommended), album finalists and design finalists!

Check out ALL the finalists & vote for the 2009 Independent Music Award Winners here

Monday, November 17, 2008

Brotherly Love w/ KOL

Photo shoot ---->
We headed to the 2hr set after hanging out at a blue-collar (absolute shit) tavern called Oscar's. Electric Factory is was over a highway far removed from any local watering hole (and quite a ways from our hotel when it was POURING after the show), but it was intimate, plenty of vodka in their mixed drinks, the sound was perfect, the backdrop lighting was awesome (similar to the white lights in the "On Call" video) AND it smelled like delicious, dingy beer basement to boot so I give it an A-.

KOL....Drinkin' and smokin' on stage.....they really are the epitome of rock stars! Totally full of themselves and they are so deliberate when they lean their heads back to chug their beer bottles and intentionally blow huge clouds of smoke from their cigarettes in the same fashion. The drummer showed off his ability to play his drums while making perfectly round, pink Bubbalicious bubbles (what a show off). The backup vocals were my favorite part...that, and the even MORE mellow, MORE painful, BLEEDING version of Cold Desert.

Caleb moved away from the mic occasionally to rock with the band, spitting on stage every chance he got. He came to the front of the stage to hear the audience chant during Knocked Up and watch the spotlights blind the crowd of 25-30yr olds who can't dance but certainly know how to chant a chorus and clap hands in unison...and then for Black Thumbnail in the finale, they all fuckin' went crazy on their sick. Other than that, they were pretty laid back and didn't talk to the crowd that much. Couple shout outs to the openers, and Caleb mentioned that Philly always "surprises the guys" with their enthusiasm.....Philly is Philly ya know....but they are going to ROCK MSG, I know it!!!

Did a video diary of the weekend...more to follow...

Set list
Sex On Fire
Molly's Chambers
Taper Jean Girl
My Party
King Of The Rodeo
California Waiting
Four Kicks
The Bucket
Use Somebody
On Call
Cold Desert
Slow Night So Long
Knocked Up
Black Thumbnail

Bonus track -----> Virg's night out

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

No more fair maiden...

Married! We did it! The entire day was like a of those dreams that you wake up from and wish you could just have one more minute of...just ONE MORE! We said our vows lakeside under red, yellow, orange and green front of everyone we love and adore. I wasn't nervous, I have never been more certain of any moment or any decision I have ever made. I want to try and record everything....I just can't write beautifully right now because I just want to create a list of everything that happened so I can come back to it. Sooooo, might not be too interesting, but it's a stream of consciousness, more for memories sake....

We arrived Friday night to a surprise dinner with Patrick and Natasha. Patrick flew back from Iraq for us to be our best man. Starting off the weekend on the right foot. Overeating, hysterically crying, surrounded by parents, brothers and sisters. Dinner was in downtown Hurley at an old colonial home they converted into a restaurant. With tap beers, steak specials, and gourmet fit us just right. I forget what I ordered but mom forgot her glasses so I ordered for her and it was a spicy sausage pasta dish. YUM! We toasted to being together and didn't stop talking and laughing until our faces hit our pillows. I had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning. Rick and I were awake in the middle of the night listening to Bob snoring. Laughing...getting frustrated....laughing some more... I think it stopped and we fell asleep, but I didn't dream, it felt more like a quick nap...but...with no dream. =)

Saturday we headed to Hunter Mountain with Patrick, Natasha and Aiden for the Oktoberfest while our parents stayed back at the Town Park to prep for the rehearsal dinner. Met up with Jenny & Joe and Rizzy & Kelly. Shortly after Pops, Willy & Venice, and Bob arrived. We took the ski lift to the top, drank German beer ate Jamaican food...? and hung out in the mountain under the sun. On the way back down the mountain, Rick and I put the windows down and blasted Kings Of Leon singing our heads off and celebrating. Rolling tobacco, taking pictures and rushing back to the hotel to get ready for the rehearsal.

We made it! Our families were all there at the pavillion waiting for us with food and decorations set up. It was perfect. The steak and chicken, the apple was a feast for everyone! We did a run through of the ceremony. It was hard to keep my composure but I did. We ate, drank, listened to good music...Rick played some football with the boys...the kids ran circles around the playground, our friends smoked cigarettes and told funny stories, our cousins sang and took pictures. When the sun set, Bob found the breaker for the lights so we could hang around even longer. Everyone helped out with the cleanup (except for me and Rick). My feet gave out in my heels and I decided I had to head back to the hotel for better shoes and a more comfortable outfit. Thought we might call it a night but instead, we walked the tracks to the bar (well, not really ON the tracks, but alongside them).

And then...the wedding. Walking down the aisle, seeing every person I have shared my life with, every person I love....and at the far end is the man of my dreams...the one I met and fell in love all because of was goosebumps, it was butterflies, it was a daydream, a triple scoop ice cream, an encore with your favorite song, a winning lottery was every emotion that you can't describe...that you know everyone gets that same feeling about all over their body...the one that steals away every thing else, the background is blurry, you can only focus on one thing at a almost feel drugged...that's what it was. Him, and every person that means the world to us and always will. Nothing like it on I was all dolled up!

We danced, we sang, the cousins took the spotlight to sing an old song for us...just like when I was a kid....the best men said their speeches, my dress got dirty, we took too many shots, sang til' we lost our voices. We partied. We rocked! Then...we had a bonfire into the wee hours of the morning!! Singing more, killing sherades, mowing salty popcorn, hugging, kissing, spilling....

Rick and I took advantage of the heart shaped hot tub, spent a good 2 hours pulling out bobby pins....passed out. It was tough peeling my makeup covered face off the pillow just 4 hours later for the "farewell breakfast..." not sure how we pulled that off, but we made it, ate pounds of scrambled eggs, shared some bad breathe with the troopers who spent the night....and called it a marriage! to the Riviera Maya in Mexico!
Honeymoon photos ----->

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Get Busy Livin'

Ahhhhh the day is almost here....Not sure what to write about today with so many things happening around me, but I promised I would write for ME! of conciousness.
Went to Joelle and Michael's wedding...a work wedding. Twas' beautiful. Danced, ate...enjoyed the make your own sundae station at dessert, stared in awe at the beautiful bride, stared in awe at my fiance while we danced. It's tough not to fantasize about what it will be like the day we are married. I tried not to plan my gaze, my smirks, the way I would walk, the wink, the whisper...I want it to come to me that day. No staged dancing, no practicing the first kiss...everything will just happen.

Booked our flights last night. We arrive in Dublin the morning of my 26th birthday and I can't stop pinching myself to see if this is really it. Celebrating St. Patrick's Day in the mother land with my soul mate. All of our dreams...finally coming to fruition when we both clicked the "purchase tickets" button together last night. Our third trip back together. The first, sitting next to each other as friends, the second, holding hands as a happy couple, the third...most likely drooling on each other’s shoulders as husband & wife. Another check on my list of things to accomplish in this lifetime…right next to obtaining a set list from a rock concert without showing my A-cups. Become a gypsy who smells like patchouli and tells great stories…. CHECK!

I want to write more about our upcoming travels, but I have a 9-5 job I still need to attend to…for now.

Visited my Aunt Antoinette in the hospital this morning. The family is writing back and forth with updates after each of us visit.

Hello my beloved Colasurdo crew,

Just wanted to let you all know that I got a chance to visit Aunt Antoinette. I certainly should not have gone alone...that was a mistake. It was hard for me to handle seeing her surrounded and attached with machines, I'm simply not good at that stuff. She was asleep for the entire visit and I talked to her and told her how much we are praying for her and how much we love her. I told her Rosemary sends her love from Idaho...that I am anxious to be a bride...and that I wanted her to wake up so I could say hello. That didn't work. They made me wear a protective lab coat and gloves because of her bacterial infection. It's tough to wipe snot and tears off your face with rubber gloves on.

Tracheotomy at 3:00PM. The doctors were meeting about her outside the room and spitting out some serious jargon. The nurse translated for me "her status has not changed, the bacterial infection is in her stool, go wash your hands" I followed her advice and then got lost trying to find the elevators.

All in all....a C- on the visit. I left unfulfilled having not been able to look her in the eye and tell her everything...I just hope the nurse delivers my message for me....

I'm afraid I will most likely not be going back...unless we are all updates from everyone are much appreciated.

Love you all,


I know this seems like I am ending on such a sad note, but it really isn't. It was enlightening. I walked into that hospital nervous about not being able to speak. I was intimidated...the same way you are when you enter a big city after spending so much time in the woods. Seeing so many people. Different clothes, colors, thoughts, problems, sicknesses, weaknesses....stories! Ones that I wanted to know so badly and at the same time, be as far away from as possible. I left with a raging fury for life. I left with determination and purpose to live every second of my life for everyone I love and who has loved me. To fly where I don’t fit in, to run out of money, to take chances... I left knowing that I would some day write a will and leave only inanimate objects to the ones I love the most. And I also left with 13 cents short of the 6 bucks I needed for parking. 6 bucks for a half hour of parking! Damn Republicans!

Friday, August 29, 2008

Barack = Progress

I wanted to take notes on his speech so I could tell my kids what it felt like to have so much hope in one man....but I fell asleep. He came on stage and thanked the audience of 75,000 a couple dozen times before they could contain themselves, accepted the candidacy, promised change...and I fell asleep.

My mind is already made up, he needn't stage another speech, he has my vote. I love to hear his voice and dream of what it will be like when I have insurance, when I can afford my kids college tuition, when we ban Hummers and run out of solar panels....but I am just too tired...and I fall asleep.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

That poor girl....

So we’re on the way back from Brooklyn on the A Train. After the first two stops this bum walks onto the train. Long gray overcoat, ashy elbows, brown paper bags, and lots of phlegm. So we play it off like he’s not there but then the smell hit. GOD DAMN! He pulls a half-eaten chicken leg out of his brown paper bag, a chicken leg that was right out of the hot garbage. We sat and watched him. Watched the spit trail from the dark meat to his chapped, scabby mouth. His hands covered in dirt and his nose dripping with snot, we watched him enjoy his garbage, wash it down with some Snake bite brew and use his half jacket as a towel for his lubed up hands. So the train stops and he grabs the pole with his greased up, wormy fingers to stand up and half spit up, half vomit outside the doors of the train, then stumbles back to his seat.
The shine of his palm prints glisten in the flickering lights of that now even dirtier subway and at the next stop a girl with long, brown, beautifully flowing to the top of her buttocks hair, hitches a ride in our car. In slow motion I see her eye up the available seats and decide to stand against the pole that our man chicken fingers had a tight grip on minutes earlier. It was like static electricity. Her hair wrapped around the pole attracted to the greasy circles of chicken spit the fingerprints had left. Our reaction: you know that video clip of the guy who’s kickboxing and his leg snaps in half on a shin kick…and then he tries to stand on it because he doesn’t even realize the treachery his leg has just endured…watching that. The "ooooh" followed shortly after by the even worse, "OOOOooooo!" We clenched our fists and watched with every wave, every bump, every motion of the train, more and more hair find its way to the pole and swim around in the filth of the now soundly sleeping homeless man across from us on the A train.

Mia Cara Rick....

We met at JFK airport in September of 2004. We were on our way to England.

I want to write down every second of the moments we shared before we knew that we would fly home together hand in hand. Walking to the gym together to get a pass to workout, eating across from each other at the dining hall, having sex in hostels...but some of it I have to keep as our secrets...ones that only we will forget to remember.

There was one night back in ER we spent up talking and talking like we usually did….and he left to go to sleep. I had this rush of emotion and I just couldn’t think straight. I wrote down all of this in a note. Asking him questions, telling him that I was just as apprehensive as he was but for all the wrong reasons. I was pacing the room, note in hand, trying to decide whether or not I should slide it under his door. Is this childish….a note? Should I make him uncomfortable giving him this impression, what if it ruins what we already have after just 72 hours? What if this is too good to be true? Every word that he says is just perfect, his face, his lips, his BODY….his passion for such simple things…his passion for EVERYTHING that I dream about. I walk to the door, pull myself together and stand looking in the mirror…and I actually whispered to myself out loud…."This is it….placed right in your lap….he’s…" A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.

And it opens so abruptly I almost scream. I can feel that its him, I’m just cursing myself for not hearing his door open so I could have been prepared. I only hope that he’s come back to grab my waist and the back of my head and pull me toward him with his strong arms for a kiss to make me melt right there with his beard brushed up against my cheeks, and finally feel all this perfect love whisper its way entirely out of my body…

"I left my journal…." he declares as he just breezes right past my sweaty forehead.


I wasn’t nervous. He always made me feel just right. I was just tingly….from head to toe. I wasn’t embarrassed that he may have caught me whispering to myself in the mirror….because I knew he did the same thing….and that’s why I knew that I absolutely had to give him this letter.
So….cowardly enough…I waited for him to return to his room and slipped it under his door minutes later. I went back to my room. Paced. Laid down, stood up. Looked in the mirror. Wrote in my journal. Thank God I could write in that journal, I lost track of time. He must have snuck out of his room again because I didn’t hear any doors open or close….a shuffle in the hallway…nothing. Then I feel him outside my door again. Only this time his shadow shoves a note under my door. I waited a few milliseconds….knowing that he had returned the gesture so the note wouldn’t be all that discouraging….and leaped to the door grabbing the note. "For Theresa’s eyes only xoxoxoxox" I hesitated…only because of the previous question of perfection. It was as if nothing else in the world mattered anymore but falling in love with him. It was my other half! The one that would make me laugh until I couldn’t breathe for the rest of my life, the one who would throw flour in my hair while he makes me pizza with his solid hands, the one who would take pictures of me when I wasn’t looking, the one who would let me fall asleep in his arms every night and run his fingers through my curls, the one who would tell me secrets and stories about all of our dreams and memories, the one who I could NEVER EVER be without. I could breathe better than I ever could! Just looking at his handwriting made me certain, like I had seen it before as a child or in a dream, and even then it made me an idealist! I was in complete control of making my life flawless…Brilliant! The note answered my questions and left some for me to figure out on my own…which I did seconds later and am still figuring out today…. He was the one person who would share moments with me… No matter what happened next, having him with me was all that mattered. I wanted every second to be filled with him…boring ones, exciting ones, sweaty ones, small ones, sad ones, stupid ones, hysterical ones, crazy ones…every single time I thought about my life from that point on I wanted it to remind me of us. Every time I think back about some memory I wanted him to be in it, no matter how big or small. I would make sure that my memories would be flooded with him….every single day…. and that’s just what I’m doing.

So, when Willy asked me if I believe in fate...I couldn't just say yes or no. I told him that I am grateful for it…that I don't understand it, but I thank God for it. I also thank God for control over my life. The control that lets me fall in love over and over again every day.

I'm gonna be a famous author!

Driving home today I decided that I have the potential to be a famous a famous author! Or, maybe, that I am destined to be a famous author, whether in this lifetime or after I am dead. A snobby Van Gogh, one who predicted his placement in Target and Wal-Mart frame sales....and how pretentious would he seem, if Van Gogh had predicted his fame. If he knew he would be hanging in some dorm room or worse yet, in a first-time apt. owners living room on cardboard with the plastic still on and no frame....would he really be stuck up? Would he be proud? Going off track...

My reasoning behind it is rather magnificent...and would you expect anything less from a self-proclaimed (for decades to come), soon-to-be famous author? Reason face twitches. I mean, I have strange, uncontrollable facial twitches..."quirks," someone who is attempting to humor me might call them..."quirks"...but they are clearly twitches, rather absurd and embarrassing twitches that I have slowly come to fall in love with after basing my fate on them. Some in the forehead, others in the nose, crunching and cringing them....wiggling my ears, unable to relax my face. The muscles just won't stop...and for these reasons you will see my countless memoriams (First to read: To Rick- for making me stay in Ormskirk) published by Penguin books....or maybe it will be Vintage Publishing....we'll see who gets wind first and offers me the most money. But there I will be...the first dead writer to assume public acclaim from beyond the grave.

These are no ordinary twitches mind you...these are the kind of twitches that only visionaries have...ones that other people gawk at and wonder why they are there. Twitches...habitual twitches that scream addiction and abnormal behavior, as a good writer should. I even make excuses for myself obviously, no one ever asks about them for fear of social discomfort. When I wiggle my nose, I tell myself it's because of a hard buildup inside, some stubborn boogey clutching to my nose hairs...that I have an itch, a drip of sweat, anything. But I have done it for years. Ever since I can remember, I have had this uncomfortable nose twitch. This, paired with social anxiety (enough to make my dog blush), roseacea and a substantial lack of short-term memory, I would say I am one world renowned book short of bi-weekly therapy sessions...

The rosy cheeks, (doctors and makeup specialists like to call it rosacea), they have always been a great way to make everyone around me uncomfortable too. It doesn't even have to be in public or at a podium, I can be in the car, alone, belting out lyrics to an incredible song....stumble on the chorus and my face turns as red as your pants (If you're wearing bright red pants, you know what I mean, if you aren't, shame on me for banking on your good fashion sense)....Poetic huh? You thought I would go with fire engine....or rosebud...but not me....I already told you, I'm destined!

Not just the upper cheek bones either, this is red to the brim...past the hairline. Red ears, red arms, red all over indisguisable!! It's quite an intense feeling, one that I can't imagine living without...but oh how wonderful it would have the simple confidence that would allow my skin to maintain a milky white hue when I tell a simple joke....or even just speak after a long silence.

It has taken me too long to realize just how amazing I can be. I will immediately pick up smoking and other bad habits to ensure my success....