Happy Halloween!

This is me in all my costume finery this year.  Who am I supposed to be?  No, really, who am I supposed to be?  I'm asking you, because I have no idea.

I wanted to go as Marilyn Monroe this year, but costume shops charge a ridiculous amount of money for a see-through white spandex dress.  But I had my heart set on being a blonde for Halloween anyway, so here we are.

You know what I realized?  Me as a blonde isn't scary at all.  In fact, it kind of kicks butt.  I'm  planning on wearing my $20 polyester wig permanently and writing it into my last will and testament as the sole earner of my inheritance (which, at this point in time, only consists of an antique typewriter and some bobby pins).

With this wig on my head and a black face mask, I feel confident about my plans to overtake - and rule with a dictatorial fist - a small island nation.  Fashionably, of course. 

Happy Halloween!

The Most Unproductive Post Ever

You know those times when you have a million and one things to do in order to not get fired from your job, in order to pass your classes, in order to see the floor of your bedroom, and yet, somehow, you only seem to be able to concentrate on the one thing that isn't productive at all?

No?  Just me?  Cool.

In fact, I've been so unproductive lately that I haven't even watched the latest episodes of Downton Abbey, The Mindy Project, or The New Girl.  Based on that alone, it's basically come to the point where I look in the mirror and don't even recognize myself anymore.

Except I do still a little bit, because being unproductive is kinda really the only art I've ever mastered in life.

I should be putting my nose to the books and writing a paper for publication for my college magazine.  I should be filing this mound of paperwork called "invoices" - or some such nonsense - for work.  I should be getting a manicure.

Instead, I'm going to go out tonight in the best last-minute Halloween costume I can muster and dance until I can't see straight.  I really think this is the most responsible choice, in light of everything I need to get done.

Who's with me?

Happy Halloween festivities this weekend, everyone!

Halloween 2012.  Why, we DO all look fabulous.  You're right!

Listen

Thanks to my parents, my music taste was destined to be a bit eclectic.

My dad subjected me to three-hours-long reggae jam sessions and mornings filled with NPR's Morning Edition and Car Talk (thanks, Dad!).

My mom subjected me to everything. Because of her, I know the lyrics to every single one of Joni Mitchell, Patti Smith and Bruce Springsteen's songs by heart, even though I don't own a single one of their albums personally (thanks, Mom!).

Back in the third grade, I did a little dance number to The Pretenders' "Don't Get Me Wrong" for the talent show, because that's what my mom listened to and that's what I knew. So you can imagine my dismay when, even as far as college, I realized no one else had even heard of The Pretenders before. It turns out, most kids grew up on ABBA. I didn't know who ABBA was until I was 21. Weird (now I love ABBA too, naturally).

Anyway, because of this eclectic background, I have come to the realization that I am not a music snob. My motto: if it makes you happy, listen to it. Rap, country, elevator music...as long as it makes me smile, or conjures up one of those distant childhood memories as really great songs tend to do, I like it. It seems a shame to eliminate an entire genre from my repertoire just because I feel like being a snob, you know?  But I have had people get upset with me before over the fact that I like songs like "Gold Digger" by Kanye, but I just can't help it.  That song is catchy and makes me laugh every. single. time.

That said, there's always going to be the music that I don't like.  Like Owl City, which makes me feel car sick. I'm not sure why.

Here's what I'm listening to now - at least until I play these songs on repeat too many times and get sick of them and come up with an entirely new playlist. When that time comes, I'll let you know.

In the meantime, please let me know which songs you're loving right now.  I am always looking for new music, and get bored with my playlists pretty quickly.  Thank goodness for Spotify.

P.S.: While many of these songs have been around forever and I just will never stop loving them, some of these songs aren't released yet, so I had to attach them all via YouTube.  If the link doesn't work for you but you're just blown away by my impeccable taste in music, I've included all the song titles below.

Until We Get There - Lucius

Send Me on My Way - Rusted Root

 Let Me Go - HAIM

Hell on Heels - Pistol Annies

Roar - Katy Perry

Porcelain - Moby

The Wind - Cat Stevens

Farewell Reel - Patti Smith

So Groovy - Jocelyn Alice& Right the Stars

Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell

Sinnerman - Nina Simone

Same Mistakes - The Echo-Friendly

The Stable Song - Gregory Alan Isakov

The Stars

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde

I've been making quite the effort lately to be as busy as possible.  This is mostly for selfish motives: keeping on my feet all day leaves little energy for developing my more narcissistic traits (this blog excluded, obviously).  The fact that the past couple of weeks has seen sunny weather in the 70s only helps matters.

My week began with me staring out over the bay for an hour, one of my favorite activities when the sun is out and the temperature is just right.  Even as a little girl, I preferred not really going *in* the ocean water (the water's really cold, after all), but instead just staring at it and making myself feel really small in the world while asking myself the tough questions like, "Who is at the opposite end of this ocean, staring back at me?" and "How many people are picking their nose in Asia right now?"

Most people do some measure of this same exercise, only while looking up at the stars.  I do it with the ocean.  My way's easier since it doesn't involving neck aches.  Either way, I highly recommend this practice.  Not only is it a necessary, humbling experience that I wish more self-important people would partake in (especially the rude, pushy people I come into contact with on the Muni), but it's also inspiring.  I see it this way: I have a choice to feel either small and insignificant and - inevitably - bitter, or I have a choice to realize how big the universe is and how much there is to explore.

I choose the latter, not only because this is the far less depressing option, but also because I'm alive in this crazy place we call Earth.  That already makes me pretty darn lucky.  I used to focus more on the "small and insignificant" portion of that thought, but then I realized it's far more fun to look at the stars and see endless opportunity and adventure.  Now, when I see people stuck in the small and insignificant mindset, it just makes me feel so sad.  Life: you're wasting it.

Anyway, the week ended yesterday with an entirely different kind of ocean: the ocean of thousands of sweaty, drunk, dirty concert-goers at the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park.  Trying to see above 800 different heads to catch a glimpse of Steve Martin pick at his banjo is also an exercise that will make you feel really small.

Leith

For those of you not already in-the-know, my name is Leith.  Pronounced "Keith", but with an L.  My entire life, people seem to be afraid to pronounce my name right, but it makes for an interesting conversation piece when I introduce myself.  I probably end up spelling out my name five times a day on average, and it doesn't even occur to me that I'm doing it.

Anyway, long story short my name isn't your average American moniker.  In fact, I've never met anybody with the same name as me.  Ever.  In all my travels.  Sure, they're out there.  I've searched for them on Facebook and they do, in fact, exist.  But I've never met any of them personally.

My parents chose my name because, being the hippies that they are, they wanted all us kids to have a name revolving around water.  Which I still don't understand because my oldest brother's name means "pile of rocks", and my sister's name means "life" in Greek, but hey, whatever.  That's their story and they're sticking to it. 

Leith is a wide, rolling river in Scotland that apparently once had wild roses and meadowland all around it.  Today, it's a river that flows through the dodgy port district of Leith in Edinburgh.  And yes, since you asked, I am incredibly proud to be named after a port town known for its prostitutes and drunken, gambling sailors.  Incredibly proud.

Going so long in life without a buddy who shares my name left me feeling lonely as a child.  I never had the chance to buy a magnet license plate bearing my name at the tourist shops in Chinatown, after all.  Which is all a kid really wants out of life.  But as you get older you start calling this lonliness unique and, especially in this day and age, unique is what everyone wants to be.  So...

...Imagine my shock when, a couple of weeks ago, I open up my Yahoo homepage, only to be rudely informed that there is a town in North Dakota that stole my name.  Oh, and not just any town.  It's a town that white supremacists are trying to take over and call their own.

I just kind of had to laugh at this news at first because, when your namesake is known for prostitutes and drunken sailors in Scotland, is a white supremacist town really that far behind?  But if I'm being completely honest, I was pretty dismayed that, from now on, people would associate my name with the most despicable types of people on the planet: North Dakotans.

Don't worry, I'm just kidding.  North Dakotans are great.  But racists aren't, and as a girl who has owned this name for 28 years, I feel like I should have some say here.

Well, fate must have taken pity on my plight and offered me a helping hand by way of one of my guilty pleasures: clothes shopping.  I opened up a link today for a cute skirt and what did I see?  My own five-letter name staring back at me!

That's right: Leith has its own clothing line.  Booyah!

A little quote from the designer of the Leith line, Sadie Tapper's profile:  "The Leith girl is more of a risk taker. She mixes influences from the runway and the street to create her own unique look."

Sure.  Yeah.  What she said.  See?  Us Leith girls are unique, I tell you!  Unique!

Truth be told, I miss the good old days (meaning only two months ago), when no one had ever heard the name Leith until they met me.

Sure, it was a bit intimidating knowing everyone's impression of the name "Leith" depended on how I presented myself.  Because then one day someone might go, "let's name our kid Leith!" and then the mom will be all, "No!  I knew a Leith once and she was the most annoying, despicable person I've ever met!"  Because I say things like that and there are certain first names I know I will never, ever consider calling my children.  But I'm a pretty kick-butt person, so I wasn't too worried about that happening with me.

Now all that seems to have changed, and I have drunks and racists to compete with.  So at least I have a Nordstrom clothing line fighting on my side to keep our unique name sacred, fashionable and mispronounced for all eternity.

The end.