Cold War Kids Heating Up... to more than 98 Degrees

*disclaimer: please excuse the lame-ness of this title, and read on. I promise it gets better.

Ugh, I know it's so not like me to behind the times when it comes to bands. But here and now, I'll (un)willingly admit my shortcomings—I've *gulp* been slacking. 
But I was disadvantaged.I first heard the jarring, wavering, yet punchy baseline of Hang Me Up to Dry in the dish pit of my unfortunate last-summer job at East Side's, and asked my fellow music devotee to explain to me why I'd never heard such a tune before. He went into his spiel, and before I knew it I had tuned the poor rambler out and headed back on the floor to respond to whining from overstuffed Canadians for "MO' BREAD! MO' SALAD! MO' DIET CO-CA CO-LA!", rather than succumbing to Nathan Willett's astoundingly unforgettable, piercing (and not in the pitchy ear-paining way) pleas. How could I associate such music with great things when I'd already associated it with crying over fresh-cut onions, mushy, half-eaten three-cheese capilletti, and lasanga al forno more resembling of lasagna a upchuck. Can you really blame me?

Well, in short, yeah. Cold War Kids are now waging the good war over my ears, and I think they're winning. Their Orange County sounds soothe my cravings for Cali. Seeing them at Sasquatch this weekend shot my respect off the thermometer for these heated hotties—they played harder than they skated, their guitars bouncing and swinging like punk-pop-rock dance partners, but kept it smooth with undeniable underlying piano riffs, and topped it off with the layering of a voice as powerful as the young Zach Condon. With bountiful layers, Cold War Kids are not layered like onions, no, they're a 5-tiered, majestically decorated cake with a smooth, delicious inside. And the icing on the cake? They're amazing live. The harmonies of Saint John will blow you away faster than you can blow out the candles.

Cold War Kids are here to stay, and now I can vow my loyalty as long as they're around.

My "social profile".

Sigh. I thought I was wised up to facebook and all its wicked ways.

Nope, they always find a way in.

Today, I received an e-mail with the subject heading: "Kasandra, These are your Most Powerful Peers."

Most powerful?! How could I turn down the offer to see a plain, black-and-white list of my most powerful 'friends'?

Well, duh, I opened it. Here's a little mail-snooping for you. Names have been substituted...

Most powerful and trusted friends:

1. loveable, intelligent drama boy from alberta, 59 points (status: player)
2. funky toronto dj, 45 points (status: player)
3. loveable, intelligent drama boy from alberta, 38 points (status: somebody)

4. uh, did we go to summer camp together?, 38 points (status: somebody)
5. loveable christian high-school girl, 38 points (status: somebody)
6. loveable, intelligent drama geek from alberta, 36 points (status: somebody)
7.  stout church boy from alberta, 35 points (status: somebody)
8. 'loveable' church girl future homemaker from alberta, 34 points (status: somebody)
9.  loveable, intelligent drama geek from alberta, 34 points (status: somebody)

10. nice smile, who are you again?, 33 points (status: somebody)

You are at position #85

85?! $%&% it can't be. I'm not even a somebody, at this rate, I don't even think I make the rank of a nobody! 

Apparently to become powerful, I need to keep my mouth shut, smile bigger, have less opinions, go to church, and take more drama classes.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

*warning: ACTUAL, unadulterated written content follows

TIP: Political! power is a pyramid of how many people trust the people that trust you. And the people that trust them - it goes pretty far. This number also means that if you wanted to send a message or thought to the whole world, these are the people who would accept your message as trustworthy, because they have faith in people who have faith in you. Think of it as your influence and reach.

since when does Stephen Covey write the self-help script for Facebook? Last time I checked he stuck to middle-aged, middle-class homemakers with "issues." 

Look Facebook, I love you, you know that. You tell me who's cool and who's not (helllooooo, mini-feed!), but now you're telling me how to make it big in life? 

I'm thinking of the influence and reach in my life and I'm quite frankly disappointed by the overwhelming presence of  you in it.

I guess when an application's named "Compare People" (no, not products, not companies.... PEOPLE—your adorable, virginal, little sister versus my creepy, early 30s, balding boss—it must be morally wrong.) Status is measured in points gained from people's votes.

So, REALLY, when you say someone has "power", it means they win the all-too-popular popularity contest.

And when you're not just "somebody" anymore, you're a true playa.

Guess that makes me a playa....hata.

boo, hiss.

This is me, "out".

This is me, learning Cobrasnake parties aren't all their cracked up to be (that is, unless you're cracked out. and in retrospect that probably explains the good time had by many hipster attendees)... 

But it WAS a learning experience (see mom and dad!)—a party's no fun without the music. And now I remember why I like all this "going out" in the first place—it's the rock 'n roll, the beats, the funky-good feel that starts with a toe tap 'till it reaches the top. 

And since summertime=concert time, and shows+friends+drinks=good times, if I did my math correctly that means we get good times times two. And math WAS my best subject, after all...

back in T.O.wn.

I was web-surfing the other evening, and mysteriously came across a family childhood photo on someone else's website. It looks as if my little brother just peed the pool and grandpa's taking him out while I pout (yet foolishly forget to flee!) Otherwise... uninspired tonight.
I feel under-rug-swept and underwhelmed 'cause I've got nothing cooking on the back burner, with no homework and looming deadlines boiling over I'm cooling off... just like the frigin' weather.
I'm caught up on Gossip Girl (which you can, of course, still watch online) and Rolling Stone (but seriously, Heidi Montag on the cover?! mon-tagonizingly disappointing).
In the last few weeks, I've devoured I'm With the Band, and a couple of books from a couple famous Chucks. My pages are all water-logged from the countless hours I've logged reading in the bathtub (and, admittedly, sweating on them on the stationery bike).

Ah, yes, but one lone discovery as of late: city biking!
Far more interesting (and stunningly dangerous) than biking in suburbia, biking to work is faster than walking, eco-friendly, and just looks damn cool. 'Specially if your bike looks like the one I've got my sights set on. But, lessons learnt: when borrowing a bike from someone less vertically inclined than yourself, ask first if you can raise the seat. Not only do you avoid looking like a clown riding downtown, but your ass will be suitable to be seated within the next few hours (ouch). Bike lanes are o.k. but bike paths are twice as nice! Bike rides to che(er)ry blossoms in high park and new ideas and summertime feelings blooming.
First, however I must conquer getting out of bed.