nerd is the word

"Single molecule, one million times smaller than a grain of sand, pictured for first time"

essential packing tunes

yep, still sucks

(and still sounds like pee wee herman, in my humble opinion.)

holls, finn and i tuned into KISS 108 FM last night when we were rolling into boston to see what the kids are listening to these days. apparently, they're listening to dog shit. shakira has some new song which, as far as i can tell, tells the story of a horny lesbian werewolf. it's unfortunately catchy for brainless dancing but it's just unbelievably dumb. shocking.

don't sweat the technique

RIP DJ AM

so, if i'm gonna get back to this "posting to your blog" business, i've just gotta say that the blink-182/weezer show last night was intense on multiple fronts. first, there were times when it was questionable whether the magmobile was going to survive the 90-minute super-hilly trip. (those questions reached their peak when the car started profusely leaking oil when we were pulled over at a food joint after a downpour. it was leaking rainbows:

)

second, =w=.

weezer put on a fantaaaastic show with particularly awesome visuals. super spectacular. they're some of my all-time top favs, but it was my first time seeing them live, and it only confirmed that rivers cuomo is too fuckin' cool for 2009. he owned it and i love him.





and third, as you've probably heard from one place or another, adam goldstein, who goes by DJ AM, died friday of an apparent drug overdose (TMZ broke the story).



the members of blink were super close with DJ AM, and he was pretty much travis barker's righthand man. they had this awesome drum-DJ duo thing going on (if you haven't seen it, youtube it right now), and they were the only two survivors of a six-person plane crash in september 2008 -- the crash that reportedly sparked blink's reunion.

before the show, travis made probably the saddest tweets i've seen:

Don't know how i am gonna play 2night but i am for AM. My brother is gone.i love u and miss u, i'll never forget all the good times we had.

I'll never forget everything we've been thru and every time i play the drums i'll think of you. U were an amazing friend/DJ/human being.

Rest In Peace my brother, this really fucks me up.

he also skipped his drum solo -- which has been hyped beyond belief but still draws rave reviews from everybody who sees it (like me, in mansfield).

mark spoke through tears to deliver a sort of mini-eulogy for DJ AM midway through blink's set, giving way to an audience-wide moment of silence. their show was fun, but it was super sad to think about what they were dealing with, and you could sort of sense that things were off. tom carried the vast majority of blink's trademark loudness and crudeness (and he was particularly loud and crude), but even announced a couple times that everybody had to "wake the fuck up" and "forget everything bad."





so, that was pretty intense and pretty sobering. but it was strangely moving to be there when some of your favorite artists -- who you've never met but really admire -- were going through such crazy times.

RIP DJ AM. gabe, who has a blog now, found this tribute.

pack woman

it's the most wonderful time of the year: free shit time.

if you hadn't heard, free is my favorite price and second is my favorite hand. most of the things you see in my room and/or on my body are items found, handed down or nabbed at thrift stores. i'm weary of anything with cushions, but besides that, i'm all about curbside shopping. i already scored tons of freebies from danny of the deza variety, including (but not limited to) a dank shelving unit, lava lamp and a sweet "in n out" hat, and today i snagged a supremely awesome bureau-turns-desk transformer unit. (holls and i dragged all 7,000 pounds of its awesomeness into my place at 4 in the morning because we found, via mild interrogation of his friend on the street, that somebody was planning on taking it today when he woke up. you snooze, you lose, pal.)

but, you know, it's the best of times and it's the worst of times. i'm pumped to move with holly and k-wright into our new hillside apartment (which, bee tee dubs, is quickly adopting the name "the crackhouse;" i'll leave it to you to decide whether that's 'cause we all have A. crackberries or B. the temperaments of crackheads). but september 1st is going to be interesting at best and terrifying at worst. yanking all this furniture means moving all this furniture, and starting a new apartment means packing this old room -- which i'm supposed to be doing today, including taking down bazillions of disposable cam pics:


click-clack for the full-size version.

womp womp.

anyway. what i'm saying is: with great responsibility comes great procrastination, and summer as we know it is just about wrapping up, so maybe this blog will come back to life a wee bit, or maybe i'll start a new one, or something.

oh, what, was that a little foreshadow action? we shall seeeeee, amigos. we shall see.

SUMMER RECAP (FREESTYLE)

- or -

"prose is for hoes"

- or -

"r u there, god? itz me, margaret kthxbye lol"

- or -

"rollin' squares and drankin' tall boys:
we're in a recession, goddammit!!!!!"

i haven't been blogging very much this summer. i've talked to three fellow nerdy blogger-types on separate occasions, and each of us previously came to the same conclusion: during the summer, you're too busy having fun to blog. why sit at a computer writing about the fun you had when you could be out having more fun? you might see it as a viscous cycle, but it's fun efficiency, man. it's just common sense. we'll be back to our regularly scheduled proscratinablogging and distractoposting in the fall, when classes start up and responsibilities increase exponentially. that's when blogging gives rest to the little A.D.D. hamster running in our heads. for me, at least, posting to a blog is a tiny break during which i contribute some nonsense to the internet before i resume the hustle.

i'm posting way less, but it's not like there wasn't stuff to write about. heard a lot of blog-worthy music this summer. most of it was free, like some cool shows at city hall plaza. some of it was not so free, like elton john and billy joel, who brought down gillette while i rocked the golden spandex with kaite & co. some of it was just pure awesome, like climbing vertical rooftops with a band called the successful drunks at their apartment in allston rock city. (hours later, in the wee hours of the morn', i locked myself out of my apartment, shoeless and phoneless with only fedora in hand, while my dear friend finn slept comfortably in my bed.)

seen a lot of blog-worthy movies -- "(500) days of summer," "the hangover" and "funny people" in the theater; and "beer league," "stepbrothers" and some dee snider horror film about a whacko with a torture chamber in his basement, all while hanging out with pals on couches. i've also been getting back in touch with some of my longtime homeboys, particularly david sedaris and hunter s. thompson.

gone to the beach a bunch of blog-worthy times, too. salisbury. nantasket. portsmouth. wollaston. newport. crane's in ipswich. hyannis (twice, once accidentally). even made it for a three-fourths vineyard reunion, but i need to make it back to the rock soon, and i will -- annabel only turns 21 once.

things are so blog-worthily nuts, i'm on my way to wearing out my second crackberry in three weeks. this is why i can't have nice things, which is also why i'm constantly trying to score pizza from finn, who works upper crust on newbury street, in my favorite flavor (free), and she always comes through. (she's also come up big by introducing me to berry line, getting people to rub awesome lotions and exfoliators all over my hands for free at lush, and generally being awesome.)

although the magmobile doesn't really fall under the "this is why i can't have nice things" umbrella, it's nevertheless had its own challenges, including $300 in speeding tickets, half that in parking tickets and twice as much in repairs, plus one tow and countless dollars tossed down an oil well. the record should also show that the magmobile once crapped out on me while i was in third gear on huntington avenue at half past midnight, and i had to coast into a gas station with two dutch vagabond kids in the backseat. that wasn't so great. nevertheless, that car is still truckin', and it's taken me on some pretty sweet trips this summer, so i can't complain.

technology hasn't consumed my soul yet, anyway. i'm still pretty crunchy. i started enlarging the "holes in my head," as my grandfather refers to them. just two of the holes, and just in my ears, and only since a few weeks ago. it caught his attention right away, though, because he's already keeping a running tally on how many of these "holes" i have in my "head," and a gauged piercing might count extra. i'm not sure who's determining these rules, but it sounds an awful lot like calvinball. we laugh. (he also had a good laugh at the "make awkward sexual advances, not war" T-shirt [gift from my dad {hilarious}] that i forgot i was wearing when i visited him the other day.) earlier tonight i bumped into a certain inside editor (ERIC ALLEN SHOUTOUT HOLLAAA) during a walk to newbury comics, where i bought some slightly larger plastic to shove into my ears. just little 10g bebes, but soon i'll be able to trade jewelry with this chick.

anyway, what i was saying: blogs. i've gotten myself into plenty more retardedly blog-worthy adventures and/or awkward situations (including, but not limited to, scenarios involving fireworks, stolen cooking wine and at least three monsoons). but in the meantime, the internet has been raging as well. i've seen a bunch of ridiculous youtube videos, like this one of my father in drag for a whole foods promotion; learned that all this time, my brotha from anotha motha has been building a website; and fostered several new virtual addictions, like www.textsfromlastnight.com and wtf pictures.

[shameless plug in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . ] i even inconspicuously began two new theme-blogs of my own: one where i pay homage to a few of my favorite things and another where i prove that words are the new numbers. (disclaimer: they are updated real sporadically, often from crackberry #2, which i named secondus and which looks to be following the fate of the first one: a quick and thankless death.)

slightly less inconspicuously (conspicuously?), i should say: all this fun while getting shit done. the huntington news is fueled by an incredibly hard-working set e-board, staff and correspondent pool that made my job 10x easier. i usually try to be kind of intentionally schizophrenic and separate my personal life from my news life -- i have two twitter accounts, for christ's sake. but i think it's important to point out that without the strong and reliable work contributed by lots of newsies this summer, i wouldn't have had nearly as much time to take these spontaneous trips and find time to do what i wanna do before we kick off the fall.

so. it was real and it's been fun, and it was all real fun (reference? reference? bueller? bueller? ...). i've been hangin' with good people and made new pals. but, only for the record, let it be known, i've just gotta say . . .

thursday night. was. righteous.

i went to the blink-182 show at the tweeter center comcast center, and it was unreal [globe review & herald review]. so much fun. it was everything i wanted in a blink reunion show, and more. they played the set i wanted to hear, but i was still genuinely excited at the start of each song. they performed tight and they made me laugh. the lawn rocked. and travis's solo lived up to the hype. even transportation worked out well: i tagged along a party bus on the way there and back, which was a supremely good call by somebody way smarter than me. +3 designated driver, -2 voms, +10 best show ever.

more than 24 hours later,

i'm still wiped out.

it's not like i was super hungover. i got up early this morning (assuming we're talking maggie standard time, here) and went to wollaston beach with dezzzz. i put down a deposit for a new apartment with some new hampshire superstars and ordered a pair of tickets to blink's connecticut show with weezer later this moth. i even took that ice cream stroll with EA later on! but i'm just spent. exhausted. i was so genuinely excited all night last night and rockin' out so hard, it's all i can do right now to be chillin' hard at home.

thank you, blink. best believe kels and i will come sing every word to every song when your next tour comes back through boston.

anyway.

i usually try to keep this blog high on the aggregation, low on the "dear diary," high on the visual and low on the word count . . . this post clearly fucked that up. but out all of the things i've done/heard/seen/thought in the past few weeks, there is only one image i wanna post before i go into summer blogging hibernation for the remaining days of summer. strangely, it sorta speaks to two things: one, how much i love following bands on twitter (it's like i'm a virtual groupie from the comfort of my subletted couch) and two, how much i love blink. or maybe it's just awesome.

click on the image below to see a full-size view of my twitter favorites. the first two are a conversation between two of the three guys who got me into music, mr. mark hoppus and travis motherfuckin' barker. i love it:



yup. like a fat kid loves cake, amigos. lots and lots of cake.

xoxo,

maggs