tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-97240942011-08-04T03:30:00.390-05:00So Where Should a Brother Like Me Start?Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.comBlogger751100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-77734684652843763242010-03-01T17:25:00.002-05:002010-03-01T17:28:07.664-05:00

My people, I think it's high time that I crept back into the writing world. If anyone is out there and cares, I would like to write more stories along these lines for you to read. S'alright? S'alright.

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1114625465417384132007-07-23T21:07:00.000-05:002007-07-23T20:11:42.136-05:00

Editor's Note: No, it's not deja vu; I really am republishing this entry, newly edited, but not new. I decided I need to finish this story because I don't like having it out there all unraveled. It does have an end. If you want to go back and read the story from the beginning, click here and scroll to the last question.It felt exactly like an authentic break up, which I wasn't expecting. I spent

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-73017650543037042632007-05-15T19:45:00.000-05:002007-07-23T19:48:37.485-05:00

Hello, Internet Friends.It's been far too long since I had the time to write for myself, no thanks to all the writing I've had to do of late for The Man. But tonight seems as good a night as any to revisit this list, what with Gilmore Girls coming to an end, and all. [Sidebar: Kelly Bishop and Edward Herrmann OWNED that show, especially during the death rattle that was this last season.] Yes, it

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1168818869869645922007-01-14T18:51:00.000-05:002007-01-14T18:54:29.870-05:00

This blog, I used to be so excited to write in it. What happened? I still have plenty of stories to share, still have plenty of words to barf out onto this page. I don't know what I have to do to regain my 2005-level of motivation, but by god I have to try.Here's to writer's block. Stay tuned. Be patient. Don't give up on the kid.

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1153411904109829452006-07-20T10:52:00.000-05:002006-07-20T14:38:33.903-05:00

OMG, have y'all heard about this YouTube thingy? Let's do it.Human League, "Human"Premise: A smoldering-hot Phil Oakey works the hell out of those glorious cheekbones as he sings about his infidelity, against a totally low-production-value blue, watery backdrop, which, why? But anyway, he's only human! Of flesh and blood are made! How can you stay mad at him? Which one of those Dynasty-looking

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1146755917602824842006-06-22T09:45:00.000-05:002006-06-22T17:32:05.766-05:00

My grandparents' backyard backed into the local golf course. They had the distinction of being the first Italian American family in town invited to join the country club. They declined. I always got a kick out of that story. Anyway, growing up, Jedi and I spent many summer hours on the course: running around, hunting for golf balls and tees, ruining the grass, playing catch, digging in the

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1138400018096158082006-01-27T17:09:00.000-05:002006-01-27T17:15:50.250-05:00

Hi, Internet. It's been awhile since we last talked, hasn't it? It's not you; it's me. And I fully intend to make it up to you soon. But right now I have some things going on, and frankly, I'm feeling a little selfish and protective of my time. I don't anticipate this media blackout will last too much longer, so please bear with me, please? Love you.P.S. If you're a guy, go out and buy Diddy's

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1131465570277376032005-11-08T10:49:00.001-05:002005-11-09T09:53:50.063-05:00

The late 1980s through the early 1990s were some of the most creative and fruitful years of hip hop. Jazz-based samples, clever videos, excellent beats and production. Who knew back then all that Prince Paul had up his sleeve? Most of what I was into seemed to revolve around a few groups and MCs that were part of a loosely formed collective known as Native Tongues. Native Tongues were different

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1127239485869613432005-09-20T12:40:00.000-05:002005-09-20T13:04:45.880-05:00

End of August 1999, I'm two months away from moving to Chicago. Still at my job, but totally as a paycheck-grubber, I spend most of my days online, skimming record reviews, buying shit from Amazon, and reading sad Canadian teenagers' online journals and other Internet flotsam. One afternoon, I'm nosing around Ain't It Cool News and its short story section when I come across one that I sort of

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1126558556871598652005-09-12T15:48:00.000-05:002008-01-05T18:11:36.807-05:00

Summer is ending, fall is coming, back to school is starting, and, as is the case for me at this time every year, nostalgia abounds. The other day, I was perusing the magazines at Borders and came across a wonderful thing: Uncut Presents NME Originals: Britpop. I love retrospective shit like that and Uncut and other British music magazines like Mojo do such a great job at it, so naturally, it

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1125522144311955682005-08-31T15:47:00.000-05:002005-08-31T16:02:24.320-05:00

Red: "Feel Good Hit of the Summer," Queens of the Stone AgeOrange: "I Do," Lisa LoebYellow: "Girl from Ipanema," Astrud GilbertoGreen: "Jamming," Bob Marley and the WailersBlue: "Genius of Love," Tom Tom ClubIndigo: "Mojo Pin," Jeff BuckleyViolet: "Rhymes of an Hour," Mazzy Star

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1125416785148849402005-08-30T10:40:00.000-05:002005-08-31T10:23:17.946-05:00

Hard to believe, but it's been 10 years since Alanis Morissette released her super, mega, multi-multi-platinum album, Jagged Little Pill, and it's taken me almost as long to start liking it. Though her recent appearance on the "Tavis Smiley" show threatened to undo all my goodwill: She was singing an acoustic version of "Head over Feet," and her pronunciation was driving me to distraction! She

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1124488234523719012005-08-19T16:43:00.000-05:002005-08-19T16:50:34.536-05:00

Dave Chandler was on time like clockwork: He came in to Archie's Alley everyday at five-o'clock when we opened. Usually, he was waiting at the door to the marina because he liked to feed the ducks along the Olentangy River, but sometimes he was already inside the bar, head on the table, taking a nap, waiting for one of us to unlock the TV cabinet and give him the remote. I don't remember when

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1124310237178658682005-08-17T14:15:00.000-05:002005-08-17T15:33:29.290-05:00

Stream-of-consciousness post, forthcoming. Strap in.Mariah Carey, "We Belong Together"This song has been in my head for days now. Mariah is so fierce all of a sudden, and I'm all up in her business like an accountant. The video is kind of dull, so you have to look past that, and also look past the fact that she's wearing that white TRB tunic like it's a dress and not a beach cover-up, but that's

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1123165086021962632005-08-04T09:08:00.000-05:002005-08-04T14:03:21.836-05:00

You know how when you were a kid you thought how cool it would be if your best friend's mom or dad married your mom or dad? And you'd all move into the same house? And you and your best friend would be best friends AND sisters? (I suppose this line of thinking most often applied to girls.) Cool, right?D-Money and I become friends our senior year of high school, but become really close once we

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1122002512969761072005-07-21T22:13:00.000-05:002005-07-21T22:21:52.976-05:00

And that's not just the title of a fantastic Peanut Butter Wolf album, man. Moving, it really DID weigh a ton. I have to give a shout out to Ralphie and Jose, from C&D movers, who moved it, in really hot heat, without a complaint. You guys rock.This is a short note to let you cats know that I'm almost ready to get back into the game here. The new apartment is set up. The Internet connection is

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1120599520563028952005-07-05T16:31:00.000-05:002005-07-05T16:38:40.566-05:00

George Harrison -- All Things Must PassCluture Club -- Kissing to be CleverMary Jane Girls -- Only Four YouGo-Gos -- Talk ShowDionne Warwick -- Valley of the DollsKevin Rowland & Dexys Midnight Runners -- Too Rye-AySimple Minds -- Once Upon a TimeThe Beatles -- RevolverThe Beatles -- Abbey RoadThe Alan Parsons Project -- Ammonia AvenuePat Benatar -- TropicoVillage People -- Macho Man 12"Eagles --

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1120100613265756142005-06-29T21:46:00.000-05:002005-06-29T22:05:00.806-05:00

Top Two Reasons the Universe Wants Me to Leave Chicago Immediately, Now, Today:Un) Friday--Got in a car wreck. We were trying to get out of the way of an ambulance. In the middle of making a left turn a car comes speeding down Broadway and crashes into the passenger (my) side. The car is not taco-ed, but barely drivable. I am not taco-ed, but back and neck are stiff. Deux) Sunday--Got

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1119472464309624902005-06-22T15:22:00.000-05:002005-06-23T17:59:07.070-05:00

My people, I have to tell you that right now I am in a state of utter chaos and disarray the likes of which I have never experienced. It is also known as "packing." Did I mention that I'm moving? Oh, well, if I didn't, I am. Leaving Chicago. Moving to New York City. Should be good times; I've wanted to live in New York ever since I was little and I read Jill Krementz's A Very Young Dancer. (

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1118848870536443552005-06-15T09:30:00.000-05:002005-06-21T10:28:52.280-05:00

Tomorrow I will:Listen to whatever is in my Walkman.Today I:Listened to De La Soul's 3 Feet High and Rising.Yesterday I:Listened to DJ Crush and Coldcut's Cold Krush Cuts/Back in the Base and Hip Hop Don't Stop.Last Week I:Listened to Unrest's Isabel Bishop EP and Imperial f.f.r.r. like, every single day.Last Month I:Went back and forth between Jay-Z's The Blueprint, Acetone's If You Only Knew,

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1118346711730456712005-06-09T14:25:00.000-05:002005-06-13T10:14:48.550-05:00

A while back, I shared with you a story about a particularly unforgettable Prince concert I went to. Here's a short history of some more memorable shows I've seen, 1993-1999:The First One:Smashing Pumpkins, December 1993The Agora, Cleveland, OHMy first concert was supposed to be U2 during the Achtung Baby tour. Victor and I had just started dating and he bought me a ticket. I asked my dad if I

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1118176365476969022005-06-07T15:06:00.000-05:002005-06-07T16:23:51.036-05:00

Yo, it's hot up here in Chicago. Africa hot (TM "Can I Get A" Witness). As such, I cannot be expected to churn out the mad-witty prose to which you've grown accustomed. Sorry. But I'm going to do my best to turn out a good list for you of songs that you need to, HAVE to hear when it's hot, hot, hot. I've made it SO easy for you; all you have to do is burn it. Done and done. Pull up your porch

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1117474224707411592005-05-31T16:15:00.000-05:002005-05-31T16:17:39.206-05:00

"Vacation, all I ever wanted. Vacation, had to get away." Yeah, it's that time of year again, time to get in the car or on a train or airplane and get the F out of town for a while. I've already taken a few vacations so far this year, and I've got three more coming up in the next two months. (One of them doesn't really count, though, because it's with my in-laws, but I'm going to try to make the

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1117138869094427192005-05-26T15:12:00.000-05:002005-05-26T15:31:23.360-05:00

When I'm bored at work, I like to peruse the video selections over at Launch, Yahoo!'s music Web site. Ever been? It's a fabulous place to kill time. I don't have the cable, see, so when I want to watch music videos, this is where I go. What I like about Launch is its back catalogue. Whoa Nelly, are there some gems in there! You want to see the video for Robert Plant's "Heaven Knows" where he

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1116958380258670172005-05-24T13:02:00.000-05:002005-05-24T13:13:00.266-05:00

Part Two, Read Part OneThat they moved—it wasn't nearly as dramatic as it sounded. They moved to a neighboring suburb, but when you're too young to drive, anywhere that you can't get to on your bike seems very, very far away. Over the years, Jedi, too, saw less and less of Mise and Mase. Then Mise and Jedi went off to college, and Mase and I started high school—Mase at the Catholic school, me at

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1116263687477529632005-05-16T12:13:00.000-05:002005-05-16T12:14:47.490-05:00

Part OneJedi, my brother, was four grades ahead of me, and for years, I gleefully played the pesky younger sister card as much as I could, always hanging around under foot whenever any of his friends came over. One of Jedi's friends, Mise, had a younger brother, Mase, who he'd bring over sometimes. Both Mise and Mase went to the local Catholic school; Mise, like Jedi, was a junior in high school,

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1115852120536132172005-05-11T17:42:00.000-05:002005-05-11T17:55:20.590-05:00

John Bonham* was my first boyfriend. As you might have guessed, John Bonham was a drummer. Not just any drummer, mind you, but the head drummer of the _____ _______ High School marching band. He was tall and cute, in a very wholesome guy-who's-in-a-high-school-marching-band way, with brown hair, green eyes, and a crooked front tooth.During football season, the band would march on to the field,

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1115394431170551902005-05-06T10:01:00.000-05:002005-05-06T10:47:49.673-05:00

If you're looking for any of those items or related items such as soft-focus lighting, International Coffees, Cathy cartoons, or Precious Moments figurines, clearly, you're lost."What are you on about?" you ask? Well, some of you have said that my stories are too depressing, that they're a drag to read. I feel you on that. They're not warm and fuzzy. But I don't find warm and fuzzy all that

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1115238525899456152005-05-04T15:20:00.000-05:002005-05-04T15:38:00.013-05:00

"Come on, Josh. Please?" I kicked at the side of the piano, leaving a black smudge on the top of my white Tretorn sneaker. "Please?" I was giving him the full-on doe eyes; over the years, I'd discovered them to be a valuable tool in getting what I wanted. "Pretty please?"Josh sighed and finished playing whatever sonata he'd been working on, "Okay. I'll talk to Walter." He flipped through some

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1113845216452796612005-04-18T12:25:00.000-05:002005-04-18T12:33:08.956-05:00

My people, once again I have to bounce out of here for a week. This time, it's for work, and based on the staff schedule I just got? It's not looking so good for a midweek update, even. So I'm leaving you with this hastily written Special Semi-Multilingual Monday Edition of the Racket Friday FAQ. Don't hate—appreciate. Grazie, i miei lettori bei. Siete tutti gioielli preziosi! To the mailbox!Q: Y

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1113601082816690192005-04-15T16:33:00.000-05:002005-04-15T16:50:54.506-05:00

After an excruciating hour of sitting there and trying to act normal, I gave up and told Victor and Def that I was ready to call it a night. Victor walked me home and wanted to hang out, but I fed him some story about needing to study and not feeling well. It wasn't really necessary, though—I felt pretty sick. He kissed me goodbye. I waited until I heard the door click then called Matthew.He

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1113431648667359892005-04-13T17:23:00.000-05:002005-09-22T09:41:53.753-05:00

Matthew and I had been seeing each other for a little over two months. Two months since we first made out, two months of lies and omissions, two months of expert planning, two months of nocturnal mayhem. Who knew so much trouble could be found between midnight and four in the morning? Four tiny hours meant the difference between respectful and reprobate.There were indications, unfortunately, that

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1112993523822183642005-04-08T15:40:00.000-05:002005-04-08T16:14:16.790-05:00

Buddha and Kona were deep into their second round by the time I got to the bar. Thursday was our drinking night, and after I started seeing Matthew I'd flaked out on them a few times. I was supposed to have been there an hour earlier, but fell asleep on the floor in my room, right in the middle of a pile of books and papers. When I woke up, there was an indent in the shape of a paperclip on my

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1112816567247909242005-04-06T14:29:00.000-05:002005-04-06T14:49:14.916-05:00

Victor looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last five minutes and fiddled with his cufflinks."Iseult, come on. Seriously, what is taking so long?""Hold on, okay? I can't find the earrings I want to wear.""Could you just pick a pair, please?" I could hear him sniffing. "It doesn't matter, does it?""Relax. I'm almost ready." I came out of the bedroom and stood in front of him, "Look okay?"

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1112654955468187702005-04-04T17:28:00.000-05:002005-04-05T12:26:34.193-05:00

"Hey.""Hmmm?""Hate to ruin the moment, here, but…""What time is it?"Matthew leaned over and looked at the clock, "Close to 4:30.""Jesus," I rolled over and squinted up at him. "How long have we been asleep?"He rolled toward me and brushed the hair from my eyes, "Not long. An hour, something like that."I yawned, "Well, if I get home now, I can sleep for a few hours before I go to work.""I wish you

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1112389280324024912005-04-01T15:51:00.001-05:002005-04-01T16:14:51.096-05:00

Unlike most conversations I had in my head when I was stoned, this one, I actually remembered. I spent the better part of the week thinking about my options:1. Break up with Victor.2. Take some "time apart" from Victor.3. Ride it out while Victor sorts out his shit.4. Have an affair with Matthew.Options one and two were basically the same. I wasn't ready to end the relationship, but I'd never

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1112217255646033332005-03-30T16:12:00.000-05:002005-03-30T16:38:19.140-05:00

Victor was stretched out on the couch, smoking a cigarette, "What do you want to do tonight? Buddha told me about a party—""Nah. I don't feel like a party. Dinner? Movies?""Yeah, okay. I don't really feel like dealing with people, either" he sat up and stubbed out the cigarette. "Do you need to go home first? Get some stuff? I can take you."I'd been staying at Victor's place, fearful that if we

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1111174476842414312005-03-18T14:33:00.000-05:002005-03-18T14:47:08.106-05:00

This is gonna be short and sweet because I have to pack and get the hell out of this city. Spring break! Spring break! WOOOOO!!! When we were in college, this is what we would yell at the girls leaving the tanning salons. It was funnier, then. Anyway, questions. Regulators, mount up:Q: What is an 8-ball?Okay, I figured I would get this question, but I was surprised at how many times I did. An 8-

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110839353547252632005-03-14T17:21:00.000-05:002005-03-14T17:37:47.586-05:00

I'm getting ready for a vacation, and the plane ride is going to be 900 hours long, so what better excuse to shop for new CDs and books, oui? There are a million things at my apartment I could read/listen to, but something about going on a trip makes me want to buy all new stuff. I even bought a new Walkman! No, I haven't yet begun the inevitable lemming descent (band name) in to the Apple Store

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110579310936986442005-03-11T17:12:00.000-05:002005-09-22T09:53:11.830-05:00

Skinny Marie's car had a broken dome light and I couldn't see where the piece of paper went. I pulled over under a streetlight to look. Skinny Marie's car was, by far, the most junked-out car I'd ever been in. Empty coffee cups and cigarette packs littered the floor. Tapes and books were strewn about the passenger seat, along with what seemed like an endless supply of black aprons from her job as

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110489371462891952005-03-10T16:14:00.000-05:002005-03-10T16:44:07.490-05:00

"Hey," Victor kissed me on the head. "I didn't hear you get up. How long have you been awake?""I don't know. An hour, maybe?""Still not sleeping well?""Yeah.""Poor girl," he kissed me again and walked into the kitchen, "You want me to make you some coffee?" God. He was being so nice to me. I felt awful. I knew I needed to tell him what happened, to explain why, for the last week, I'd been unable

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110402090218341362005-03-09T15:48:00.000-05:002005-03-09T16:12:20.836-05:00

That night, I walked the long way home from D____ Hall, chain-smoking and replaying the conversation over and over in my head:"I think you know that I'm interested in you. And I'm pretty sure you're interested in me. Am I right? … You had every opportunity to tell me that you had a boyfriend but you didn't. Why not?"Yes, Iseult, I thought. Why not? What made me madder, I couldn't decide: That

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110317730406409782005-03-08T16:31:00.000-05:002005-03-08T16:35:30.413-05:00

Dear Caleb, Nathan, Jared, and Matthew,I want to tell you a story. When I was 17, 18, I wanted so badly to be in a band. And you'd have thought it was possible, given that all my friends at the time were boys in bands, fragments of bands, or at least played some instrument—some well, some not so well, but they were cute, and cute gets you very, very far, in rock and roll. (You should all know

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1110234976958678372005-03-07T17:28:00.000-05:002005-03-07T17:48:07.176-05:00

Just like he'd said he would, and just like I'd agreed to, he'd called me on Wednesday to make plans to go to the bookstore that night. I was lying on my futon, heard the phone ring, looked at the caller ID, saw that it said "M.S. K_____," and waited for the machine to pick up."Hey, this message is for Iseult. Iseult, it's Matthew K_____. I was just calling to see what time you wanted to meet

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1109959552314449602005-03-04T13:01:00.000-05:002005-03-04T13:16:07.523-05:00

First Rock Concert I Saw: the Beach Boys, at an Indians baseball game, in the mid-1980sLast: Air, at the Riviera, April 2004First Hip-Hop Show I Saw: Wu-Tang Clan, at the Newport, August 1997Last: Ugly Duckling, People under the Stairs, and Deltron 3030, at the House of Blues, November 2000First Tape I Bought: Out of the Blue, Debbie GibsonLast: Loveless, My Bloody ValentineFirst CD I Bought:

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1109884057634381182005-03-03T16:04:00.000-05:002005-03-04T10:43:24.926-05:00

Well before things had gotten to this stage, I'd thought about what would happen once things did get to that stage because I knew they would. Should I leave Victor? Could I? Wouldn't that be the wrong thing to do? I loved Victor and didn't want to abandon him when he so obviously needed something or someone, maybe even me. But I had plenty of things going on myself—school, work, my life. Being

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1109794891935546362005-03-02T15:12:00.000-05:002005-03-03T11:20:10.300-05:00

Something was different with Victor, his demeanor. Initially, I attributed it to his mounting anxiety about graduating from college. I'm sure that was part of it; he didn't have a plan and didn't seem to know what he wanted to do with his life. He was looking for a job in Columbus, but he wasn't looking very hard. He said it was overwhelming and that I'd understand better when I was a senior. He

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1109370896968786982005-02-25T17:29:00.000-05:002005-02-25T17:39:28.086-05:00

Jedi and I had a variety of babysitters when we were yoots:Mrs. B—We stopped going to her because her sons both got crossbows for their birthdays and seemed a wee bit too into killing off all the fauna in their backyard. The younger one also got one of those kid-sized battery-powered cars and seemed a wee bit too into running into us with it.Mrs. M—We stopped going to her because she had two kids

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1109183430222646022005-02-23T13:23:00.000-05:002005-02-23T16:39:27.106-05:00

There have only been a handful of Wizard of Oz moments in my life. You know—times when the curtain was thrown back and you saw or learned things you weren't meant to see or learn. The most obvious one is, naturally, when I realized that "Santa's" handwriting looked an awful lot like my Mom's. The others are as follows:1. When I read about how far Disney theme parks go to keep the illusion alive.2

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1108681366057390192005-02-18T11:35:00.000-05:002005-09-22T09:47:40.420-05:00

Exactly when Victor started doing cocaine is not clear to me. I do remember when I first found out, though. Victor had just finished his sophomore year of college and I had just graduated from high school. He'd decided to stay in Columbus that summer to work instead of coming home, and I was pretty broken up about that in a very annoying, very teenager-y way. My dad took pity on me—rather, he

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1108572267632306092005-02-16T11:39:00.000-05:002005-02-16T11:44:27.643-05:00

The opening of a soda canThe "ffftttt" of a rotary-dial telephone, especially when dialed from a high digitThe zipper on my floor-length puffy coatThe snap on my green windbreaker, circa 1986The tiny bell on my keychain that my mom gave meThe "thwunk" of a stapler when stapling a large amount of paperThe "plink" when I pull the cord on the bus to let the driver know it's my stopThe cracking when

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1108411952408024182005-02-14T14:31:00.000-05:002005-02-14T16:03:07.780-05:00

Grammy Recap, BriefKanye West had a Come to Jesus with the whole US of A! His was the best stage show I'd seen in a long time--until homey busted out with the angel wings. There was where he lost me. Still, Mavis Staples killed it. John Legend, on the other hand, had no business being up there with her OR the Blind Boys of Alabama. He's a decent singer, but compared with those other talents, his

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1108140873973531792005-02-11T11:50:00.000-05:002005-02-18T11:40:59.320-05:00

It's Friday, and you know what that means, right? It's time for another installment of the superfabulous Racket Friday FAQ! If you like to drink some soda, let me hear you say "Coca-Cola!" Coca-Cola! Throw your hands in the air! And waive 'em like you just don't care! And if y'all like to party like we like to party, everybody say "Oh yeah!" Oh yeah! Etc., and so on.Before we get started, I have

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1107983008465434502005-02-09T14:52:00.000-05:002007-07-23T19:50:42.869-05:00

Editor's note, 07/23/2007: Hey team -- If you want to read the next installment of this list, click here. Danke!Y'all. I have a cold and my stomach hurts. And there's some sort of powder-like dust on the ground that I refuse to believe is actually snow. AND I have a magazine going to print today, so I have to be here at the office, waiting, in all my runny-nosed grumpy glory. What better way to

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1107886209788638162005-02-08T12:52:00.000-05:002005-02-08T13:28:42.183-05:00

The day the music died, for me, anyway, wasn't when Madonna released her craptacular cover of Don McLean's classic, "American Pie." It was about a year earlier in my dingy, too-big-for-one-person apartment on Oakland Avenue in Columbus. The Oakland apartment was my first foray into living alone, having broken the lease at my previous apartment because of my then-roommate Crasian's raging

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1107553078525335832005-02-04T16:29:00.000-05:002005-02-04T16:46:14.593-05:00

Dear Conor, See, I'd been steering clear of your albums because I wasn't sure I'd be into them. Like, I'm always reading about how you started a band at age eight or something, how you're described as "a young Bob Dylan," and that you have a way with the ladies. I also read that you're a vegan. Based on those factoids, you can understand, I'm sure, why I might not be so keen to throw down my

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1107382904624498602005-02-02T17:19:00.000-05:002005-02-02T18:22:20.510-05:00

Welcome to the world, baby girl, indeed! I don't have much in the way of wisdom or advice to give you—I mean, the basics are: The world is a hard place and you will have your ups and downs, good days and bad, happy times and sad. That's just how it goes. Your heart will get broken a few times, hopefully a very few, but you'll recover. You'll fall in love with stupid, unworthy guys (or girls),

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1107213298278690442005-01-31T18:07:00.000-05:002005-01-31T18:14:58.276-05:00

Fibonacci's dad gave him a watch for Christmas. A very fancy antique watch, that Fibonacci's dad had engraved with a lovely, sentimental message about our wedding. It's a beautiful watch and deserved better than the cheap metal band that someone put on it some years before, so we went to Evanston to find a jeweler to replace the band. The first place we went was all wrong: Full of gaudy-looking

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106943927442046532005-01-28T15:21:00.001-05:002005-01-28T17:45:24.343-05:00

Editor's note: This is the third of a three-part story. Read Part One and Part Two. A week or so went by, and Elton did his best to apologize, in his own way. I mean, he never actually verbalized the words "I'm sorry," but he e-mailed me mp3s he thought I might like, he burned CDs for me to listen to, he stopped by my cube to chat and to ask me to give him another chance. He was quite charming

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106857119179666302005-01-27T15:11:00.000-05:002005-01-27T16:58:08.693-05:00

The first mixtape I ever got was in sixth grade from a guy whose nickname was "Rat." I knew nothing of boys, was sort of freaked out by them, so I didn't realize that he gave me the tape because he liked me--not because he wanted to talk music with me. (I think he also gave me the tab from a soda can, but I didn't know what that meant, either.) It was a Maxell tape with pink and green paint

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106779701868018822005-01-26T17:36:00.000-05:002005-01-26T17:48:21.866-05:00

Editor's note: This is the second of a three-part story. Read Part One here. Before we met up with Ruby and Pimento, Elton and I went to eat at Stanley's. We talked more about music, our jobs, past relationships. He talked a lot about himself, which was fine since I'm a better listener than talker. He'd offered it up before I'd even thought to ask: "Yeah, I'm single right now. Just getting over

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106605499020073672005-01-24T17:20:00.000-05:002005-01-24T18:13:40.610-05:00

Editor's note: This is the first of a three-part story. The computer training room was warm and it was after lunch, so I was having a difficult time trying to stay awake. I kept pinching the skin between my thumb and index finger hoping the pain would keep me from nodding off. This was day two of my new job and I was supposed to be learning how to use the company's Intranet, though I couldn't

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106342529741487892005-01-21T16:18:00.000-05:002005-01-21T16:42:09.710-05:00

It's Friday and I feel sick of words, but some of you folks have had questions about my fledgling blog, so I'm introducing a feature called "Friday FAQ." Original, no? Here's where you can ask me anything you want—as long as it's related somehow to what you've read here—and I'll answer it in the next installment. Easy, breezy, beautiful. So let's dip into the e-mailbag and see what's there. Q:

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106246241790027842005-01-20T14:25:00.000-05:002005-01-20T18:11:10.883-05:00

Laurel invited us to her house for a sleepover. This was unusual because Laurel's mom worked the night shift at the factory and we weren't allowed to stay over at someone's house if there weren't any parents there. But Laurel's mom had switched shifts, so Laurel begged and pleaded to have a slumber party and finally her mom gave in. We were all excited because it was kind of a big deal: Nobody

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1106092322409283152005-01-18T18:48:00.000-05:002005-02-11T11:07:42.713-05:00

We were all pretty well versed in the folklore about the yearly spring choir trip to New York:"Dude, last year? Someone told me that JR packed an entire suitcase full of liquor—and no clothes!""Whoa, that's nuts.""And I heard that LK was so wasted, she totally barfed all over JP! While they were making out on the ferry!""Yeah, well I heard that she got busted fucking him in the pool.""Ew! Nasty!"

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105749684819909042005-01-14T19:06:00.000-05:002005-01-15T14:16:57.626-05:00

James was Private and RA's friend. Private, RA, and I worked together at the OSU bookstore. I was just getting to know them. They were "Will & Grace" before there was a "Will & Grace"; only in this version, "Will" was a muscle-y black guy and "Grace" was an overweight farm girl. They finished each other's sentences, had a ton of inside jokes, and were really fun to be around. Anyway, James was

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105585443506924122005-01-13T16:44:00.000-05:002005-09-22T09:37:05.300-05:00

F was a painter and a poet, but more important, he was hot. Truth was, I didn't care much about his painting or his poetry, but let me tell you what: His body? Was art enough to make up for that, no doubt. He wasn't my type, really; I'd been more into WASP-y, preppy guys with a touch--just a touch--of is-he-or-isn't-he gayness. F was lean and lanky with tan skin, dark hair. Tallish, in good shape

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105565547266055452005-01-12T16:21:00.000-05:002005-01-13T17:00:14.523-05:00

When I first met A-Track, it was in fall of 2000 at a staff meeting. Her shoes were falling apart. She had these long, ridiculous fake nails and was twirling her pen across her knuckles like a baton, smacking her gum, and twirling her hair around her finger. I was mesmerized at her multitasking ability. I'll totally cop to judging her based on her looks and demeanor, thinking she was probably in

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105466364446715242005-01-11T12:57:00.000-05:002005-02-17T12:51:24.590-05:00

That relationship, the one with Ross, was made up of the worst parts of him and me. And it's no exaggeration to say that he broke me. I nearly lost my mind. I definitely lost all sense of what it meant to be loved. It wasn't my friendship with Scorpio and that I'd just broken a major rule in the Girl Code that fucked me up. It wasn't the bullshit from his family about how I stole him away from

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105385862277990052005-01-10T14:30:00.000-05:002005-01-10T14:37:42.276-05:00

I wish I could write about music in a way that isn't cloying or turgid. (I wish I could write about anything in that way, actually.) I mean, really, when you're trying to express how something makes you feel, how can you convey that without coming off like a total candy ass? Par example, the suburbs have had a huge influence on me. I didn't grow up in one—my 'hood was a mish-mosh of small,

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1105119661580807692005-01-07T11:33:00.000-05:002005-02-17T12:50:38.263-05:00

The summer of 1993 sucked. Skatie was moving away, my parents were in the middle of a messy divorce, Victor was away at school and probably cheating on me, definitely doing drugs. I'd never felt more like a tumbleweed. I spent a lot of time by myself, that summer. My friends would call and I would make up excuses as to why I wasn't able to hang out. Most of my days were filled up with driving

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1104962140882812212005-01-05T16:28:00.000-05:002005-01-10T14:48:55.770-05:00

This summer, I spent an inordinate amount of time on the Long Island Railroad, or the LIRR, as they call it, even though "railroad" is one word, so the second "R" in "LIRR" is kind of reduntant, but whatever. Anyway, the whole reason I was spending hours of my life in Long Island and on the LIRR was because Fibonacci was living in New York City for the summer. Southwest doesn't fly into the city

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1104793615880361962005-01-03T17:58:00.000-05:002005-01-12T17:00:19.690-05:00

Ross had an unhealthy fascination with his sisters, Frosty and Shallow. He was always saying things about them, like, how good looking they were, or that one of them had on some sexy outfit, or similar. It didn't seem to occur to him that this wasn't the sort of stuff one shares with one's girlfriend. Still, our relationship was new and exciting and fool in love that I was, I ignored all that.

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1104272060183624632004-12-28T15:47:00.000-05:002005-01-04T11:43:49.870-05:00

The kids (especially the Chicago ones) love to hate on this album. Back in the day when I was a teenager, with no status, and no pager, I was working as a music director for the nascent OSU student-run radion station, KBUX, later to be known as The Underground. The kids working there, we had no freaking clue how to run a radio station and we didn't have anyone to tell us how to do it--the whole

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9724094.post-1103652681559689212004-12-21T14:01:00.000-05:002006-06-24T12:23:44.646-05:00

Camp Lo, anyone?This album was the soundtrack to Spring Break NYC 1997. Skinny Marie and I flew in to the city with little more than $100 a piece, because we forgot to deposit our loan checks before we left. It was only the second time I'd been to New York; the circumstances of this trip were a little sketch. Victor and I had recently broken up. I think the final straw was when Victor read my

Iseulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18420393999028136884noreply@blogger.com0