Archive for February, 2009
Oh, wait…I have a blog.
I went to Blogfest 17 tonight at Finnigan’s (sic) Wake and had a lovely time canoodling with all of my favorite Pittsburgh bloggers. I got to thinking, though, after introducing myself dozens of times as, “Hi, I’m Danielle, I blog at onedamnthing.com,” that I should try to post more than once a month.
It’s a nice thought, but it probably won’t happen. Just haven’t had much to say lately.
Ummm….
I watch 120 Minutes on VH1 Classic. It’s fun to reminisce about the Eighties. Technically, my very first dates with my husband were back in junior high when our friend Jim would call (three-way calling was brand! new!) while we were all watching 120 Minutes – or The Young Ones – and try to get us to talk to each other by asking questions like, “So Danielle, do you like stuff? Rick likes stuff, too.”
Jim apparently saw something in the relationship that we didn’t see right away. We didn’t get together officially for another thirteen years. Smart boy, that Jim.
So anyway, I enjoy watching 120 Minutes now as I push 35. My crushes on Bono and Michael Hutchence have completely dissipated, but I am still powerfully drawn to the Suedehead. It’s also fun to watch a young Noah Ray (not Tony Hawk as I originally believed) skate to the “It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)”, but it’s truly shocking when that classic R.E.M. song is followed by the more recent “Supernatural Superserious.” An awesome song, but gawd did R.E.M.* get old. We all got old.
Occasionally VH1 Classic will play a video I don’t remember seeing back in the day. Like Devo’s video for “Freedom of Choice”, where the band wears crazy alien masks and eat chocolate donuts. Or this Hüsker Dü video for “Makes No Sense At All.” Right around 2:35 they break into the Mary Tyler Moore theme. Awesome.
Really, the only thing that video needs is Ted Knight.
*Come visit me at the next Blogfest and I’ll tell you about the time I met R.E.M. True story. I’d blog about it, but it’s a much better story with hand gestures. I might even dance.
