Say who is this typing man?

I don't even know, people. They let anyone write on the internet nowadays.

Nov 19, 2013

My blog daze is over

Now that I've got Florence + the Machine stuck in everyone's heads, here's a quick update since I haven't blogged since my horribly titled Valentine's Day post.

I decided to follow my dreams of working in publishing while I was still young enough to fail horrifically but with that bildungsroman panache that will make my eventual memoir an instant best-seller. I quit my job at the advertising agency in Birmingham, sold all of my furniture, packed a Tahoe and my Avalon with the remainder of my belongings, and reenacted the Avett Bros "I and Love and You."
complete with horrible guitar playing

I took advantage of having relatives in the NYC area, and am now splitting my time between Staten Island and Pennsylvania as I hunt the hunt of the jobless. Which is really why I'm updating the blog, so yay unemployment?

I've actually already landed an internship at an indie publishing house in Brooklyn - it's unpaid, and I COULDN'T BE MORE EXCITED!

Here's the part of the blog where I promise things I probably won't deliver:

I hope to start updating a bit more regularly than once every 10 months, so I'm going to do my best to clear out the hilarious drafts I've been working on and off detailing my adventures. (I get lost so easily that finding a Staples becomes an experiment in cartography.)

I've also started a video blog (which I also need to update) under the youtube channel Sadie Awesome. It's not yet super interesting, but I have high hopes that it will be.

So that's what's been happening so far. Maybe I'll follow my own dang rules and update more frequently now!

Feb 14, 2013

Why Music is a Better V-day Gift than VD

I was pretty dang fed up with traditional flowers. Every year my dad would send them to me on the big day of V, and every year I would take that bucket of responsibility, plop it in the middle of my kitchen table (if it didn't smell too bad), and watch it slowly rot over the next few months as everything within died, withered and either became mush or grew a stanky white mold. Once it got absolutely disgusting, I'd pitch the middle bits of plant soup in the trash, wash the vase with bleach and use the container as a holder of pen-shaped items.

This year, however. THIS YEAR my dad stepped up his game. A quartet of dapper and debonair gentlemen visited me at work and serenaded me, barbershop-style, with a ballad and a mid-tempo love song before handing me a single red rose with tiny little vase-thing attached and a card signed by my dad featuring the sheet music of one of the songs sung on the cover.

Let me explain just why this is a valentine gift that is over 9 thousand times better than flowers or chocolate.

1. The barbershop quartet was from Voices of the South, so they were technically accurate and had great musicality and showmanship. At no point during their two-song performance was I distracted from my joy of music by poor harmonies. Several times I heard the overtones that are the true judges of a well-tuned quartet. I used to sing barbershop and I minored in voice performance. Trust me when I say I can distinguish good stuff from bad. This was good.

2. They left a flower and card. ONE ROSE. Just one - no worries about how to get it home or how to take care of it, plus I could display it on my desk and compete in the unofficial "i have someone who loves me" contest that goes down. Someone tries to belittle my one, easy-to-take-care-of rose? BAM! BARBERSHOPPED MOFO!

3. Did I mention no chocolate? It's the second day of Lent, and I got a gift that was super sweet without being in any danger of breaking a religious tenant or adding pounds to my squishy figure.

To sum up, if you want to get your girl (or baby girl as was the case with my dad) something sweet, ultra romantic and musically and technically beautiful, get her a barbershop quartet for V-Day. Voices of the South - (205) 252-SING.

Jan 10, 2013

Soylent Green is People

I was taught growing up not to trust authority.

That's not really true... I was taught that the truth is flexible.

No, wait. I guess what I was taught was that my dad is full of crap.