Slate recently asked this question to a group of filmmakers and critics, and now I ask it of you:

What movie have you seen the most?

What was the first concert you ever attended?

Last night, I downloaded the latest release from Jolie Holland, Springtime Can Kill You. Although it falls under the folk category on iTunes, Springtime (much like her previous work) seems to me more of a strange, beautiful blend of jazz, blues, folk and country. Her voice is haunting at times, sweet at others, and always very, very twangy.

Dwight and I (along with about a dozen other people) had the good fortune of seeing Jolie Holland at the Blue Door a couple of years ago. She was so great, I found myself reduced to Swooning Fangirl status and doing something desperately uncool asking her, during the break, to autograph my copy of Escondida. Yikes.

As for Springtime Can Kill You, Im not sure yet if I love it quite as much as Escondida (which I practically wore out) but its been playing non-stop on my iPod.

Strangely enough, it matches my mood very well. Its a real melancholy-fest in my cubicle today. Imagine that.

Yesterday marked a downswing in my mood and the first really difficult day of the diet thus far. The cause behind this is easily identifiable. Im, well, how to put this delicately, hormonally crazy right now.

I was at my desk yesterday afternoon, having just spent nearly the entire day in meetings (which put me in a bad mood to begin with). I wanted to cry, and I was so, so, so hungry. I ate a few almonds. They just made my gums itch. I wandered into the break room to get more water, and noticed a box of Dunkin Donuts on the counter. I lifted the lid and peeked inside to see a single chocolate-frosted donut. I closed the lid and stared at the box for a minute, my water cup long forgotten. Finally, with the saliva beginning to pool up in my mouth, I grabbed a plastic knife and cut off approximately one-quarter of the donut. I devoured it in mere seconds, filled up my water cup and walked back to my desk.

As I sat there, all I could think about was how badly I wanted the rest of that donut. I dont even like donuts, and here I was obsessing over the thing. Then I started to fantasize about Chinese food spicy Kung Pao shrimp, Mongolian BBQ, crab rangoons anything and everything that could be found on a buffet table. I really, really wished that I hadnt already binged once this week, so I could just go out to dinner already and feel better.

In an attempt to distract myself from the temptations of Chinese buffets, I tried to figure out why I was feeling this way. I soon realized that I wasnt even that physically hungry. I just wanted to eat to feel better, happier food was a weapon in my arsenal of unhealthy coping mechanisms. I soon found myself running through my old list of Things That Make Me Feel Better, and realizing that theyve pretty much all been taken away: smoking, getting drunk, binge eating, shopping (damn our budget).

The longer I dwelled on this, the longer I spent trying to think of something that might make me feel better, the more miserable I became. I cant smoke. I cant get drunk. I cant binge eat on fried, greasy food. I cant go to Target and buy something fun. No fun trips planned until October. There was nothing to look forward to.

And for some reason, the thought of going home to a light, healthy dinner and a walk afterwards just wasnt doing it for me. But I knew that if I did slip up and devour an entire delicious order of crab rangoons on the way home, I would feel even worse. So instead I ate whole grain pasta with pesto and asparagus, and took an after-dinner walk with the dogs. (I wouldve loved all of this on any other night, but last night I wanted no part of it.)

I thought a healthy dinner and some exercise might make me feel better when all was said and done. Wrong. The walk just made my back hurt, and I went to bed grumpy and hungry.

So far, today is more of the same. Just a general crappy mood. I guess Im glad that I stuck with it and resisted the urge to go to some Chinese buffet last night, but this diet thing really isnt so much fun right now. I still have the urge to eat everything in sight, and I continue to be plagued by intrusive thoughts of fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I hope this doesnt happen every time I hit that hormonally crazy time of month. Maybe by next time Ill have some kind of new coping mechanism to deal with the mood swings.

Monday night was the sold-out Beck show at Cains Ballroom. Dwight and I had been looking forward to this for months.

After my volunteer interview at the Oklahoma City Animal Shelter Monday afternoon, Dwight and I hopped on the Turner Turnpike and headed to Tulsa. Our plan was to arrive downtown early enough to enjoy several hours of good old-fashioned bingeing before the show.

And binge we did.

First stop was James E. McNellies, where we guzzled beer like there was no tomorrow. Thanks to their extensive beer selection, we vowed to never order the same beer twice until, that is, we tried the Pocono Caramel Porter. It was dessert in a pint glass, and we had to order another round. Another favorite was the Rogue Morimoto Soba Ale, served in a 22-oz. bottle. It was reminiscent of an IPA, kind of spicy and with a little bit of a bite.

Then there was the food. All the glorious, glorious food my poor Sonoma-Dieting body had been craving. We started with the European cheese platter four different cheeses, crackers and fruit. Interesting cheeses, too a Guinness cheese, smoked cheddar, Manchego and some kind of basil cheese. Probably the best cheese platter Ive ever had. I was stuffed, but went on to order the fish and chips Ive been craving for weeks. Unfortunately, that wasnt so good it was disappointingly overcooked. Nevertheless, Dwight and I cleaned our plates like a couple of starving prisoners.

Next it was on to Mexicali, for a couple of giant frozen drinks. I was so painfully full by now that I was barely able to finish half of my raspberry swirl. I felt bloated and tired and a little cranky.

Fortunately, Cains Ballroom was a short walk away. We got there about halfway through Jamie Lidells opening set. We werent really feeling it, so we headed to the bar for a couple of Rolling Rocks. As we worked our way up closer to the stage, Dwight commented on Mr. Lidells strange resemblance to Alfred Molinos character in Boogie Nights. He was wearing something that resembled a shiny silver bathrobe, loosely belted around the middle, and we halfway expected him to break into Jesses Girl while some half-naked Asian kid threw firecrackers. I laughed heartily.

Beck took the stage around 9:30, along with the band and puppets. Thats right, I said puppets. Puppets that looked like Beck and each member of the band. Controlled by a crew of black-clad puppeteers, Puppet Beck and his Puppet Band mirrored the actions of the Human Beck and his Human Band throughout the entire show. There was even a cameraman onstage shooting the Puppet Band, and the resulting video played on two giant screens, one on each side of the stage. At the start of the encore, a puppet mini-movie was shown, depicting Puppet Beck and his Puppet Band at various locations throughout Tulsa. One high point was a rousing Puppet Band rendition of Bon Jovis Living on a Prayer with ORUs giant praying hands as a backdrop.

If theres one landmark to represent this part of the country, its those damn giant praying hands.

Beck was shaggy-haired and adorable. The set was a balanced mix of both older stuff and newer stuff, and there were more onstage shenanigans than at a Flaming Lips show. Besides the puppets, there was a number involving a couple of plushie costumes (with Puppet Beck temporarily replaced by a teddy bear) as well as a low-slung table that was brought out on stage for the rest of the band to gather around during the acoustic portion of the set. Sitting around the table, the rest of the band drank wine, snacked on cheese and talked that is, until Beck launched into Clap Hands, at which point they began a percussive accompaniment using the wine glasses, silverware, plates and anything else on the table that might make noise. Good times.

It was a good crowd, aside from the very drunk, pseudo-hardcore dancers to my right. (Why do I always end up right next to these a**holes?) I came close to taking an elbow in the nose on more than one occasion. One guy staggered around, holding his camera phone high above the crowd, literally falling over backwards in an attempt to take what is sure to be a blurry, unfocused picture of the stage. Idiot. Cains was packed in fact, I believe there were as many people there as were at the Ford Center the next night for the Ashlee Simpson show. (OH! Couldnt resist.)

The show ended around 11:00, and we headed back to Oklahoma City after making one last pit stop at Wendys (Binge Day wasnt over yet). We arrived home around 1:00, exhausted and grateful that we were playing hooky the next day.

(For the set list, click here or here.)