Blog, Sweet Blog

Archive for October 2009

Mood: Mad and tired
Music: Gae Bolg-(Black) Sabbath

I care about you and how your week is going, kittens.   So, I offer you the following The Donnas lyrics and souvenir photos in the hope that they might propel you to award winnin’, beautiful cupcake bakin’, super-duper weekend-havin’, booty gettin’ greatness.

Don’t wanna go to the mall,
Don’t wanna go to the movies,
I think we’ve done it all,
Just take me to the backseat!
The Donnas-“Take Me to the Backseat”


You should listen to us, we're awesome.



and finally,

Why aren't you listening to us, right now?

Mood: So sick of writing this #$%^*& blog
Music: The Minutemen-Paranoid Chant

I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I love music. I like talking about it and writing about it and wallpapering my bathroom with it whenever I can.  I’ve been thinking of this post for a while now and I have a lot of questions.

Why do I like the music I like?

What sorts of songs move me and why?

What makes a great album great?

Should I buy a monkey?

Is it legal to keep a monkey in the house?

If I brought a monkey home, would it throw monkey feces at my kitty?

These are all important questions to ask yourselves, Internets. I’m going to try and help you with some of them, but you’ve got to do the rest on your own…there’s no substitute for good, honest work.

Monkeys aside, these aren’t the most artistically challenging, or earth shattering of Music’s albums, but they always make me happy and I sing along whenever one of these albums comes on.  And sometimes, as you’ll soon learn, these songs literally make me weep with joy.

So, in the spirit of musical devotion and charity, I offer you, in no particular order, the five albums that I like best in the world.


I love, love, love XTC and I’m not sure that they get the credit they’re due here in Magic America…or even the Magic United Kingdoms for that matter. They don’t tour or perform live at all due to paralyzing stage fright and I think that’s hurt their popularity. I’m sure the fact that they broke up a few years ago doesn’t help either.  They have a lot of great (and some not so great) albums, but this is far and away my favorite.

Skylarking uses the framework of the season cycle to examine the important events in a life. It starts with young lust and romantic love in the summer and moves through cosmic introspection and death in the winter.

This album is so good, but the why defies description. It’s like they perfectly captured the warmth of the Sun and stolen kisses and the smell of summer grass and fear and bumblebees and jealousy and the end of a holiday and regret and apples and mortality in a jar and transformed them into beautiful, little songs.

I love this album so much that I’m literally getting the weepies from thinking about it.


Remember that time you fell in love with the lead singer of your band? Remember how wonderful it was to be young and with your love every day? Remember how band practice and live shows instantly got more fun?

Remember that time you broke up with him? Remember how sad he was? Remember how everyone in the whole fucking world knew that you two had broken up because you were in a well-known indy rock band? Remember how you were asked about it over and over again in interviews? Remember how awful band practice and shows got to be after that?

Remember that time after the breakup when he came into practice and said, “hey y’all, I just wrote a bunch of new songs for the next album!” and of them was about you and your dead relationship and how much he loved you and how badly you’d hurt him?

No? Well, me neither, but this actually happened to Superchunk’s Mac McCaughan and Laura Ballance. Laura (the bass player and the one on the album cover) broke up with Mac (the singer/songwriter) sometime before Mac wrote the songs on Foolish.  I know, right?

I figured this out one day when I was working at a summer camp in college. I was sitting on my bed, listening to “Saving My Ticket”and it clicked together like Lego. I listened to it again from the start and cried for the rest of the album.  It’s not immediately obvious from the lyrics, but it’s like you can hear the giant, girl-shaped hole in his heart–it’s so raw and naked. The songs are crushingly sad, but they’re also smarter and rock harder than anything else that came out that year. I’ve been listening to this album on and off for almost 15 years and it still move me, every time.

Ben Folds Five-Ben Folds Five

The first time I ever heard a Ben Folds Five song (Jackson Cannery, maybe?), I was sitting in a Ft. Gordon AIT barracks in Augusta, GA, listening to some local radio. I’d like to think we were some of the first people to hear BFF due to our proximity to their North Carolina home, but who knows.

I don’t recall a lot of good music from the early/mid Nineties, but this album sounded like it was straight from Mars. It’s smart, funny, and band geeky weird and I instantly fell in love with Mr. Folds. The good songs on this album are more fun, exuberant, interesting, and sing-along-y than any other album I own.

Oasis-(What's the Story) Morning Glory?

Ok, I realize some of you may have “opinions” about Oasis and whether they’re a “good” band or not. Frankly, I don’t care and I suggest you take your hatred of Oasis and shove it up your bum shoot. I like this album, ok? I know every word to every song and sing along to it at least once a week. So there.

I’m not going to deconstruct the album or explain why it’s so good. It’s like the blue sky on a summer’s day or making out with that hot guy from Calculus class the first time. It’s just…right. Unfortunately, non-Morning Glory Oasis mostly stinks like Continental cheese, but whatevs. I’d much rather have one great album and a bunch of stinkers than a load of Creed any day.

The Smiths-Louder Than Bombs

The Smiths are pretty fucking close to my favorite band in the world, ever.  Like you, I was a troubled, too-smart, well-read misfit and Morrissey touched me in a way no other fey, asexual, Oscar Wilde-y Englishman ever had. The Smiths taught me how to be arch and clever (and wrap it up into an adorable, poppy package), but they never did much for my heterosexuality.

I love all of their albums. This isn’t really an album, more of a compilation with some new songs thrown in.  However, this is the The Smiths album I would take with me to the South Pole…or into outer space (the desert island thing is cliché and over, people).

Still unconvinced?

Young bones groan
And the rocks below say :
“Throw your skinny body down, son !”
But I’m going to meet the one I love
So please don’t stand in my way


Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone
Dont try to wake me in the morning
cause I will be gone
Dont feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart
I will feel so glad to go

Check and mate, Internets.

And now, dear friends, I encourage you to respond in kind with your own five, happy-inducing albums of music.

Mood: feh
Music: Joanna Newsom-Cassiopeia

I’m having a hard time finding the motivation to start my homework.  Maybe a little light blogging will point me in the right direction?

So, one of the reasons I like this new dating site is because they have all of these personality tests and compatibility questionnaires.  The site uses your answers to assign a compatibility score (prolly like eharmony and such) that other members can see.  I like that I can weed out people that are opposed to gay marriage or hate animals…it’s easier than doing it in person.  I also like taking some of the personality tests on the site.  I hate it when other people just post results to their “What Kind of Corn Are You?” quiz (corn salsa), but I’m going to be a quiz-result-posting jerk just this one time…hopefully you won’t think less of me.

I’m posting these today for a couple of reasons.  First, these actually do say something about me (or the person I think I am).  More importantly though, I’m amazed that I’m so easily pegged.  I’ve always fancied myself an exotic, mysterious enigma of a girl and these damn Internet tests seem to see right through me.  And that is…vexing.

LOL, this song just came on…

brains for dinner
brains for lunch
brains for breakfast
brains for brunch
brains at every single meal,
why can’t we have some guts?

Anyway, vexed.  Am I so transparent?  Were my years spent in study of the dramatic and psychological arts for nothing?  Time will tell, I suppose.  Until then, I offer you the following, cheap insight…

The Dating Persona Test:

The Wild Rose

The Wild Rose-Random Brutal Love Dreamer (RBLD)

Colorful, but unpicked. You are The Wild Rose. Prone to bouts of cynicism, sarcasm, and thorns, you excite a certain kind of man. Hoping to gather you up, he flirts and winks and asks you out, ultimately professing his love. Then you make him bleed. Why? Because you’re the rare, independent, self-sufficient kind of woman who does want love, but not from a weakling.

You don’t seem to take yourself too seriously, and that’s refreshing. You aren’t uptight; you don’t over-plan. Romance-wise, sex isn’t a top priority—a true relationship would be preferable. For your age, you haven’t had a lot of bonafide love experience, though, and this kind of gets to core of the issue. You’re very selective.

The problem is them, not you, right? You have lofty standards that few measure up to. You’re out there all right, but not to be picked up by just anyone.

Yeesh, that’s scarily accurate.  Here are some more test/result combinations!

The Politics Test: Democrat (socially and fiscally liberal)

The What Kind of Girl are You Test: The Liberal Beauty (Sarandon-esque…aww, thanks)

The Which Lolcat Are You Test: Longcat (This is relevant to my interests)

The What is your REAL age Test: You are 39 years old!!  (What the fucking fuck?)

The What type of MAN turns you on Test: Mysterious boy (these are getting dumb)

The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test: 4- the Individualist (surprise!)

What Kind of Feminist Are You Test: Social Concerns Feminist (finally, the truth can be told)

The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test: Modern, Cool Nerd (you got that right, Internet)

And that’s it!  I promise I’ll prolly never do this again.

Mood: Like me and the universe are buzzing on the same frequency
Music: Kreator-Under the Guillotine

So, I’m sort of Internet dating again.  I wrote about this before but never finished the story.  Honestly, there wasn’t a lot to tell and sharing that little bit didn’t ever seem like a high priority.  Still, I guess I owe you guys something…

I put an ad on and a more LGB-oriented site the first time.  I chose plentyoffish because it was free and because Sarah had mentioned it and seemed to have had some luck with it.  My luck wasn’t as good.

I got a few responses right away.  I wish I could reproduce these, but it looks like the stupid site deletes messages after a while.  The first one was from a barely-literate, thick-necked goobery dullard from the boonies.    If you’ll permit the dramatic reproduction…

hey sweete,

ur pretty.  you should call me. we can have nice dinner and ill give you some sweet lovin.

call me,


Wow…so…flattered.  Here’s the imaginary response I sent him via the Psychic Friends Network…

Mr. dateraper469,

Until the end of our days together, you sir, may regard me as your beloved, your Miss Hathaway.  Your simple note was as sweetly rendered and as charming as any of our great Bard’s sonnets.  Your words pierce the very beating heart in my bosom and I offer you my unyielding love and devotion.  I pray that you may return my ardor and I breathlessly await your reply.

Ever yours,

Mlle. Anna Hell

p.s. lol, jk, you’re a moron, don’t ever write me again.

The next message was from an utterly ordinary Westminsterian who looked just like a cop (he had that icky little cop moustache).  His email went something like

Hi Anna,

I had to look twice at your profile because it’s really hard to belive that you’re a guy.  But you seem like a nice person and I might be into trying that.


Officer Moustache

I answer most people, so I sent him a curt reply and mentioned that I wasn’t a guy and hadn’t ever been and that he was off to a really bad start.  He sent me an apologetic reply and asked me to forgive his ignorance.  I took me about a week to reply to him.  He wasn’t ugly and seemed stable and considerate, BUT, his profile was entirely devoid of personality, he looked police-y, and I doubt we had much more than a primate ancestry in common.  So I sent him back, what I thought was, a balanced, but direct reply…

Officer Moustache,

Look, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I’m borderline crazy and need a messy-haired, sexually adventurous musician/artist type who’ll worship me as a goddess from now until the day of our inevitable, explosive breakup.  I also want to snort coke off of a razor-sharp, six-inch long bowie knife and get filthy with the person I’m sleeping with on top of the Eiffel Tower some time before I die.  Something tells me you’re more of a homebody.  Good luck with “finding the one” and don’t bother to write me back.


Anna Fucking Hell

And finally, kittens, I received a sweet, well-written series of notes from a rather attractive African gentleman.  The letters weren’t funny or weird at all, so I won’t try to reproduce them.  Basically, he told me how beautiful I was and shared with me his love of fine art, travel, and gourmet cuisine.   It still seemed like we didn’t have loads/anything in common but I need to get me some date experience, somehow.  So, when he asked me if I wanted to meet him for coffee, I happily accepted.  My too-good-to-be-true alarm started going off the next day.  I’ve been around the block before and I’m well-aware of how much most men hate reading dating site profiles.  I had to check…

Hi Africa,

I’m excited to finally meet you (and for you to buy me coffee, lol).  I just wanted to double check something before we meet up.  I know I’m just being silly and it’s a small matter, really, but do you remember how the first sentence of my profile said that I’m a pre-op transsexual woman in bold, giant, flaming italics?  You know what that means, right?  And you’re cool with that, right?

Just checking…


Africa never wrote me back.


But don’t cry for me, Argentina.  I’d much rather weed out the riff raff and get all of the unpleasantness out of the way before meeting for the first time.  Still, I’m deleting my profile from  It’s a visually unappealing site that seems to be populated with nothing but meatheads.  I’m leaving the LGB site too…not a single person ever contacted me.

As I mentioned, I’m back at it again at a new site.  Things seem to be dramatically better this time.  I’ve already traded emails with a few interesting guys and one super cool woman and they all seem to be aware of and ok with my medical history.

Fingers crossed, y’all.

Mood: Waiting
Music: Team Dresch-I’m Illegal

Per our earlier conversation about boots and the fashions and what Anna Wintour is doing right now, I just wanted to let you know that I bought these…

Ladies, my new best friend, the Frye Shirley riding boot in Red Brown.

Pretty great, hunh?  I haven’t worn them or anything yet because, even though these are known the world over as “boots for girls with big calves”, they’re too motherfucking small for my “athletic” calves and I had to take them to the cobbler to get stretched.  But, we’ll be together again on Friday.

an introduction

Hi, I'm Anna and I love cheese!

This blog is a chronicle of my life and a catalog of happy ephemera. The About page has a little bit more information, but, remember, none of this is really's just a supplement, a thumbnail sketch, a mostly anonymous Intarwebs placeholder. I'm way better/less wordy in person. :-)

Oh, and if I wrote something about you and you thought it was mean or hurtful, I'm sorry. It's how I felt at the time, but probably isn't how I feel now. Chances are, I love you and I think you're awesome.


All content on Blog, Sweet Blog is copyrighted by me, Anna Hell. Unless otherwise noted, all photos, words, and content on this site are mine, created by me, and should not be used without my permission (or at least attributed and linked back). I try to embed links or quote original source material if I use another person's work.

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October 2009