Archive for November, 2010

A Kickass Xmas 2010

This is the day that I unveil my new 2010 Kickass Xmas Mix, bust out my Xmas decorations, and start drinking early. The mix this year is an eclectic one. And yeah, it’s got The Cast of Glee and The Wiggles on it. Big whoop. Wannafightabouddit?

It also ends with what might be the best version of Auld Lang Syne I’ve ever heard in my whole life. I made a Snowdan for the cover, and he’s catching snowflakes on his tongue, which I know is a tad creepy in a cannabilistic General-Cinemas-animated-Pepsi-cup-drinking-herself-before-a-movie kind of way, if that makes any sense, but doesn’t he look like he’s having fun? You would be too if you were listening to this amazing mix, which you could be if you just emailed me and asked me real nicely about how one might be able to do so:

1  I Wish It Was Christmas Today : Julian Casablancas
2  Deck the Rooftop : Glee Cast
3  It Snowed : Meaghan Smith
4  Caroling, Caroling : Nat King Cole
5  Joseph, Who Understood : The New Pornographers
6  Joy To The World : Sufjan Stevens
7  Get Down for the Holidays : Jenny O
8  Christmas Is Coming Soon  : Blitzen Trapper
9  Happy Joyous Hanukkah : Indigo Girls
10 Step Into Christmas : The Puppini Sisters
11 Jingle Bells : Wayne Newton
12 Zat You Santa Claus : Ingrid Lucia
13 The Christmas Song Song : Rocky and Balls
14 No Christmas for Me : Zee Avi
15 Round & Round : Frank Sinatra
16 Christmas TV : Slow Club
17 Calling To Say : Serena Ryder
18 Little Drummer Boy : Meaghan Smith
19 A Party For Santa Claus : Lord Nelson
20 Christmas Time Is Here : Family Force 5
21 For You Who Fear My Name : The Welcome Wagon
22 Angel In the Snow (Xmas Mix) : Elliott Smith
23 Our New Year : Tori Amos
24 Ding Dong Merrily On High : The Wiggles
25 Auld Lang Syne : Pink Martini 

MERRY XMAS SEASON!

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Hopes

This made me laugh out load, which I’m sure speaks a lot about my mind lately.

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CLOSURE

So planetdan has been painfully neglected as of late. I did take a trip to Hawaii last month, but my absence has mostly been due to the fact that I moved. Or rather, I put my house up for sale, sold it for a song, agreed to purchase a new one, and then lived in limbo for months until the damn thing finally closed – just last Friday. I’ll try to keep it short:

February
I put my house up for sale, thinking that such an awesome house would surely incite a bidding war, and that the thing would sell for a premium, netting me a hundred grand to put down toward the next house, easy. I have a ton of showings (and log countless hours to vacuuming, dusting, and sitting at the coffee shop waiting it out) but no offers.

March thru July
As I slowly catch up to the reality of the crappy real estate market, I am forced to admit that my house might be overpriced. I try various price reductions, new signage, and weekly open houses, but people still don’t seem to be grasping the unparallelled charm and decorative whimsy of Casa de Danny. I set up a nanny cam in the house in the hopes of hearing some constructive criticism, but the garbled audio picks up nothing except for the loud booming bass when someone actually has the guts to play a song on my jukebox.

August
After four price reductions the showings have all but dried up. The options are to take it off the market and try again in a few years, or to do one more drastic price reduction as a last ditch effort. I love my house, but in my head I’ve already moved, so I try for bottom dollar. It sells in three days and for twenty percent less than I was hoping. Closing is scheduled for a little over a month away, so I start looking for a new home, and find the perfect place three days later. They accept the offer and I start packing.

The buyers of my old house schedule their inspections and appraisals. The house is in even better shape than I thought. I see the new buyers drive by the house occasionally, clearly looking forward to moving in. I’m knocking on wood like crazy and doing everything I can not to jinx the sale, when one morning I wake up to this:

My neighbor’s car, parked directly in front of my newly-sold home, has had its tires stolen, replaced by a lone cinder block, like I lived in the projects or something. I thought this type of sh!t only happened in the movies. I tell the neighbor to get that thing towed before my buyers drive by, mouths agape. He complies, and luckily no one is the wiser.

September
Closing time arrives and my old house sells without a hitch. My new place is not so lucky, though, and closing has been delayed until the seller can get his affairs in order. He lets us move into the house anyway, which is good because I would have nowhere else to live, but it’s also unnerving because if the house doesn’t close we’ll have to move right back out a month later.

On moving day, the meteorologist predicts it will Flash Flood all day long, and it does, but I’ve hired movers so I stay dry as a bone and tip them all ten dollars extra. Regardless, none of my furniture fits in the new place and moving sucks hind teat. Is that even a phrase? Hind teat? I don’t like it and I wish I hadn’t used it.

October
The new place is nice, but not officially ours yet, so I feel apprehensive to hang anything on the walls or alter the decor, so I just live out of boxes. Then one day we get a foreclosure letter in the mail that says all occupants must be out of the house by December. Panic is followed by lawyers who are followed by the realization that if we don’t close on the house by December, it will go into foreclosure, and we will be evicted. Which sounds awesome, but there is nothing I can do about it. I go to Hawaii and lay on the beach and try not to think about the rotting pit in my stomach.

November
After countless delays, the new place has still not closed, and certain requirements detailed in the purchase agreement have not yet been met. Closing is scheduled for a Friday, and on Thursday night we are forced to threaten to walk away from the deal. There are screaming matches between realtors and few hurt feeling when dan gets testy and starts telling people how it is. Very few escape my wrath. But at the last moment everything works out, we officially buy the place, and I spend the next week walking around IKEA like a zombie, hemorrhaging money.

This whole process of getting from one place to another has been the world’s biggest pain in the ass, and in the future I will probably have to refer to 2010 as “The Lost Year,” but now I live here:

The only thing I haven’t really figured out yet is how to deal with this:

Won’t the tree eventually outgrow the hole and rip the deck to shreds? Doesn’t nature always win these battles? Oh well, looks cool in the mean time.

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Wall of Dan – The Beginning

No one’s ever drawn a portrait of danny before. Ever. Not one cheesy baby portrait in pencil. Not one poorly-conceived 80′s painting of me straddling a wall in a mini-skirt a’la Some Kind of Wonderful. Not even one of those ham-fisted caricatures you can get at the county fair for fifteen minutes and ten dollars.


Some Kind of Horrible.

So I commissioned the first portrait of danny from an internet friend, and it only cost me twenty bucks, delivered to my door. So consider this the big unveiling:


The first commissioned portrait of danny, ever.


The inspiration.

For the record, it measures 3.25″ x 4.5″ and I love it, although I’m having a hard time finding a frame for it. Anyway, I feel like commissioning inexpensive self-portraits might be a new hobby of mine, so if anyone’s got a recommendation for a good portrait artist, send them my way. One day I’ll have a whole wall of ‘em. A wall of dan. Just like I’ve always deserved.

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Matrioshka

My favorite joke of the month, told to me by my buddy Ricko:

“I don’t really like those Russian nesting dolls. They’re just so into themselves.”

Okay, so maybe it’s not the funniest joke in the world, and kinda random to boot, but I like it.

I am fascinated by nesting dolls. I hesitate to say that I “love” them out of fear that people may take that sentiment a tad too seriously and I’ll get nothing but nesting dolls for every birthday, christmas, and anniversary until the day I die. (Likewise and for the record, I do not officially collect anything at all. So there are no easy-outs for gift-giving when it comes to danny. But I digress.)

Over ten years ago I bought a set of blank nesting dolls off the internet in the hopes of coming up with some really clever or funky idea for how to paint on them,  but no idea ever came, and so now they just sit in the back of my closet like nested trophies of my creative failure.

So if anyone’s got any bright ideas, send them my way. But Michael Jackson has already been done:

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