I've been listening to David Bazan's Strange Negotiations lately, and would highly recommend it to anyone who likes David Bazan/Pedro the Lion. Or just likes music. Or has ears. I'm not much for reviews, as they usually only consist of: yeah, that was super freaking awesome, or seriously, it sucked—don't waste your time. So I won't pretend I'm some pretentious liason of the musical realm who will make or break your life based on a couple of over-ornate sentences about why I think something's good. It just is.
Ah, painting. I took on the endeavor of painting my kitchen this week. It started with high-gloss harvest gold walls—and for some insane reason, the ceiling had been painted the same color. The ceiling is now white, and as of this morning the walls were blue. Or, Chinese Porcelain rather. I wasn't down with the Chinese Porcelain, so I took a trip to the local hardware store this morning and dropped some cash on another gallon of ridiculously expensive paint. The new color: Saint Anthony Bridge. It's a neutral light tan/green, but it was honestly the Twin Cities reference that sold me. The other option was Summit Avenue. I spent my afternoon singing my lungs out to Bright Eyes while I applied a layer of primer over the blue. One of these days, I'm going to have this house painted. One of these days, my distractions will be gone and I'll start another book. One of these days, I'm going to get used to living in the middle of nowhere.