Tonight, I had my hair cut by a crazy person.
At some point in the haircut, I thought, "Well, at least I'm getting material for the ol' blog post tonight." Later in the haircut, I thought, "I do not think this surreal experience is going to fully translate in the blog post." Still later I thought, "Does this person even work here?"
First, I should back up. I do not have high standards in terms of haircuts. I do not have a "person." I just go to the mall and take my chances (I have started going to the nicer places in the mall if that makes any difference). My hair routine basically consists of growing it as long as possible, until it's ratty and I just can't stand it anymore. Then, I will go get a haircut, asking for only a tiny bit to be taken off. I do not have any fancy styles or whatnot. Just cut some of the gross parts off and I'll see you in 6 months.
Tonight, I told the lady, who, let's call TJ, that I did not want that much off, in fact, I wanted very little off because I was going to be in a wedding in a month and wanted my hair long. Whose wedding, TJ asked. I told her that my brother was getting married. Well, that's when it all started.
The first anecdote was about her brother and her nieces, who I guess are troublemakers. But, TJ pointed out, it's because they have an awful mother, and her brother doesn't get to see them anymore. That turned awkward fast. All this happened while she was washing my hair.
Later, as she's cutting, she asks where I'm from. North Carolina...she has been there, but doesn't like it because it's the Bible Belt. She visited there because she met a guy on the internet and went to get to know him. It didn't work out because he was "hiding things," and also he had a surly teenage daughter who hated her and I guess because he lived in the Bible Belt. She apparently took a picture of him swimming while he was naked, and in the picture, he's doing the backstroke, and a "little part" of him is poking up out of the water. And the guy got mad because she got it developed. I don't know that that's the Bible Belt so much lady, as it is a reasonable desire to not have a naked pictures taken by someone you hardly know. But all I know is, there I was, watching way too much of my hair get cut off, and making polite conversation about some naked guy that I don't know and his inability to commit.
And another weird thing about going to visit this guy in North Carolina is that her grandmother was from North Carolina, and she had this dream of going to a cemetary there, and her grandmother was wearing a white dress and showing her around. What is FREAKY is that when TJ described the dress to her mother, her mother started to cry because TJ had described the dress that the grandmother was buried in, but there was NO WAY that TJ could have known that!
Also FREAKY is that TJ saw a picture of the aforementioned grandmother, or some relative, with the grandfather. And the grandfather looked JUST LIKE the guy she had met on the internet! She thinks that is part of what freaked him out so much. "Beneath the laughter about what a coincidence it was, there was some fear," reasoned TJ. Things were not helped when the guy learned that TJ's ancestor, who had been through the war and marched home barefoot (I am really not sure where he was marching barefoot from), died not from these adventures, but by stepping on his wife's knitting needles and getting blood poisoning. DID I MENTION TJ KNITS? It freaked him out. I tried to make some joke and TJ was like, well, they don't make knitting needles out of the same material anymore. TJ is a very serious person, don't try to joke with her.
Hmm, what else did I discuss with TJ? I wish I could have taken notes. For a long time she talked about aquariums she had been to and things she had seen there and how many types of eel could I name? And what did I know about fireflies, specifically, is it just males that light up or can both males and females light up?
Also I should mention that TJ has a very loud voice, so the whole salon is watching this. At one point, I thought the manager felt sorry for me, but maybe he was just trying to teach me the lesson of getting a regular stylist.
Then, just as quickly as TJ came into my life, she was gone, taking with her much more of my hair than I had planned on. So if you see someone with kind of weird short hair, it's probably just me. Think of my hair as TJ waving hello to you.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Death of an Unpopular Poet
There is a secret that some people must carry around, knowing that its exposure at the wrong moment would bring certain censure and outcast status. I am about to reveal this secret, which I carry.
I hate dogs.
See, I bet some people have stopped reading me already and have reported me to the Blogger people so that I can be rounded up and taken away. Perhaps some of you, though, have a flicker of recognition, and realize I can be trusted.
I don't mean I hate dogs the way someone like Michael Vick does. Dogs are fine in principle as long as they are nowhere near me. I don't really like this cultural custom that every time a person sees a dog, they stop and pet it. We don't go around and touch humans just cause they're there. But, you're like the meanest person in the world if you don't touch dogs in your vicinty, and you're a downright ogre if you object to a dog who wants to get all up in your crotch.
This is something I've known about myself for almost all my life. But Seattle really highlights this, because Seattle might as well just change its name to Dog City. People don't have children or friends, they have dogs. Dogs are not people in clothing, but you wouldn't know that in Seattle. I present this article as evidence: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/living/2003168225_dogs02.html
Perhaps you think that's an exaggeration, but it's not. I know people who could have very easily been in that article. I have heard honest conversations about which doggie day spa is the best and this week I learned there is such a thing as a pet first aid class. Once I heard someone say they would save their dog before they saved their spouse. I'm sorry, but that's just a social disease.
Anyways, the whole reason I have put my secret out there is to discuss one exception to the rule. You might think, that hating dogs the way I do, that I would be offended by this week's story of Leona Helmsley leaving her dog $12 million, while two of her grandchildren got nothing (http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/070829/helmsley_s_pooch.html?.v=1). Well, I actually LOVE this story. It appeals to my petty side, because there's nothing better than truly getting to grind your high heel in the eye of the person who has pissed you off, and there's no better way to do that than leaving $12 mil to a dog.
Also, I just like the imagery of animals leading opulent lives. I like Fancy Feast commercials where the cat eats off a crystal plate. There is a Jimmy Buffett song from the 1970's that I love called "Death of an Unpopular Poet." This song, as you might guess from the title, starts with the death of a penniless poet. After death, his poems start to get famous. His brother goes on a talk show, even though we learn they never got along. Everyone wants a piece of the poet, but as it turns out:
He left all of his royalties
To Spooner, his ol' hound
Growin' old on steak and bacon
In a doghouse ten feet round
And everybody wonders
Did he really lose his mind?
No, he was just a poet who lived before his time
(imagine it sung very mournfully)
It's hard to tell where a dog passes that line between being a complete nuisance to me and being completely adorable because it's so rich. I think around $1 million. Just goes to show, the rich are better than the poor!
I hate dogs.
See, I bet some people have stopped reading me already and have reported me to the Blogger people so that I can be rounded up and taken away. Perhaps some of you, though, have a flicker of recognition, and realize I can be trusted.
I don't mean I hate dogs the way someone like Michael Vick does. Dogs are fine in principle as long as they are nowhere near me. I don't really like this cultural custom that every time a person sees a dog, they stop and pet it. We don't go around and touch humans just cause they're there. But, you're like the meanest person in the world if you don't touch dogs in your vicinty, and you're a downright ogre if you object to a dog who wants to get all up in your crotch.
This is something I've known about myself for almost all my life. But Seattle really highlights this, because Seattle might as well just change its name to Dog City. People don't have children or friends, they have dogs. Dogs are not people in clothing, but you wouldn't know that in Seattle. I present this article as evidence: http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/living/2003168225_dogs02.html
Perhaps you think that's an exaggeration, but it's not. I know people who could have very easily been in that article. I have heard honest conversations about which doggie day spa is the best and this week I learned there is such a thing as a pet first aid class. Once I heard someone say they would save their dog before they saved their spouse. I'm sorry, but that's just a social disease.
Anyways, the whole reason I have put my secret out there is to discuss one exception to the rule. You might think, that hating dogs the way I do, that I would be offended by this week's story of Leona Helmsley leaving her dog $12 million, while two of her grandchildren got nothing (http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/070829/helmsley_s_pooch.html?.v=1). Well, I actually LOVE this story. It appeals to my petty side, because there's nothing better than truly getting to grind your high heel in the eye of the person who has pissed you off, and there's no better way to do that than leaving $12 mil to a dog.
Also, I just like the imagery of animals leading opulent lives. I like Fancy Feast commercials where the cat eats off a crystal plate. There is a Jimmy Buffett song from the 1970's that I love called "Death of an Unpopular Poet." This song, as you might guess from the title, starts with the death of a penniless poet. After death, his poems start to get famous. His brother goes on a talk show, even though we learn they never got along. Everyone wants a piece of the poet, but as it turns out:
He left all of his royalties
To Spooner, his ol' hound
Growin' old on steak and bacon
In a doghouse ten feet round
And everybody wonders
Did he really lose his mind?
No, he was just a poet who lived before his time
(imagine it sung very mournfully)
It's hard to tell where a dog passes that line between being a complete nuisance to me and being completely adorable because it's so rich. I think around $1 million. Just goes to show, the rich are better than the poor!
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Special Guest Blogger: The making of a great compilation tape
Remember when I said that anyone could be a special guest blogger, if they blogged about me? Well, we have our first taker. What you read below was written by my brother George, who, as you'll see below, is a very funny, smart, and swell all-around guy. George gets up every day to save the world, one troubled kid at a time. I'm really proud of him. And as you'll see below, he pretty much owes everything to me.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being inspired about the possibility of guest blogging (see Special Guest Blogger, 8/23/07), I sat down to write my very own blog about my sister. I put one of the three mix-CDs that Molly mailed to me recently (Super Fun Random Mix) and start to listen… (Molly was right, this IS random).
I’ve grown to enjoy my sister’s CD mixes and always look forward to receiving them in the mail. However, I must admit, there was a time that I dreaded hearing that Molly had made a mix. Molly always has an excuse for making a CD (some titles include: Molly goes to the Mall, Molly and her roommate get ready to go out, Molly’s going on a roadtrip). There were even times that I involuntarily had to listen to Molly’s mixes…
For two years, I was a passenger as my sister drove to and from school every day. She had an early 90s, unequipped, Mazda Protégé. The car had manual locks, AM/FM radio, a cassette player, no defrost that we could tell (guess who had to de-ice that every day while Molly got ready) and no passenger air-bags (I could go on about my fear regarding the lack of safety features on the car; however, I will not digress because I know Molly will not post this with information on her driving history…)
Due to an overwhelming hatred for morning talk radio and the low supply of tapes that my dad had (Jimmy Buffett, an Eagles tape, and maybe Mellencamp) Molly began making her own mixes. She entitled her first tape: Molly Music.
Over the course of the next two years, Molly developed probably over 8 Molly Musics and over a dozen other mixes. She put together compilations of bands/singer songwriters like: The Nields, Tori Amos, Sarah Mclachlan, and Lilith Fair. Molly kept the tapes in a fake-leather, hard-shell briefcase made specifically for tapes. The briefcase was stored on the passenger side floor board (invading my leg room in the already very “spacious” Mazda).
Some of you might not think that this situation does not seem that bad.
However, for a Freshman whose favorite bands at the time included The Deftones, Sublime, 311, RHCP, Tool, and Rage Against the Machine...this was a nightmare.
With a 30 minute round trip commute to and from school for two years, I listened to approximately 180 hours (7 and ½ straight days) of Molly Music. (I want to point out that these figures ONLY count school transportation and greatly diminishes any other time I spent being a passenger in the Mazda.)
I know that the figures above are accurate in regards to school transportation, because Molly NEVER LET ME BRING ANOTHER TAPE INTO HER CAR!! For those two years that my sister drove before she went to college I was subjected to a complete dictatorship in regards to the music I listened to (while being transported). Molly ruled the Mazda with an iron fist when it came to music.
When my friends needed a ride, I would have to explain to them who the fuck The Nields were (and how Ash Wednesday was a song about a teenager being pregnant (I think)).
I do want to give Molly credit. I was allowed to make one tape where I got to choose the songs (FROM PRE-APPROVED ARTISTS AND CDs) that was allowed to be played on every OTHER Friday ONE WAY. As much I enjoyed this, Molly really only followed through with this promise for about a month. (I don’t think I got a chance to listen to Side-B, which I’m sure really enhanced Side-A’s listening experience)
When Molly left for college, her High School Last Will and Testament included giving me the briefcase of tapes for me to listen to. I was fucking pissed.
As time has gone by, I have either mellowed out or have grown to appreciate (in small, voluntary doses) the above artists. I can also say that my favorite female artists, thanks to Molly, include: Dar Williams, Michelle Shocked, Fiona Apple, and Nanci Griffith. I even entertained the idea of seeing Nanci Griffith in concert. I also will always think of Molly when I hear Billy Joel’s Downeaster Alexa and her explaining to me about this sad, sad fisherman.
I seriously thank my sister for exposing me to music that I would have never listened to and think that it has really given me a better appreciation of music. That doesn’t mean I agree with her methods of teaching them to me. This would be the time that I would like to mention that Molly used to sit on me and read to me when I refused to be taught multiplication and division “for fun” when I was only 5.
The Mazda was later sold through the newspaper when Molly got my Dad’s Toyota Camry (see “that new car smell”, 8/19/07). I stored the briefcase of Molly Music’s in the basement. Unfortunately, it was ruined when our basement flooded. Strangely, I wish I still had the briefcase of tapes.
Of course, then I would have to buy a tape player.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is Molly again. I really don't have anything to say in my defense, except I would like to point out that I actually made 14 Molly Musics, and not 8 as George says above. I'm a little sad that George didn't find volumes 9-14 as thrilling as I did, but I'll get over it.
Just send me an e-mail if you would like to be Special Guest Blogger!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Being inspired about the possibility of guest blogging (see Special Guest Blogger, 8/23/07), I sat down to write my very own blog about my sister. I put one of the three mix-CDs that Molly mailed to me recently (Super Fun Random Mix) and start to listen… (Molly was right, this IS random).
I’ve grown to enjoy my sister’s CD mixes and always look forward to receiving them in the mail. However, I must admit, there was a time that I dreaded hearing that Molly had made a mix. Molly always has an excuse for making a CD (some titles include: Molly goes to the Mall, Molly and her roommate get ready to go out, Molly’s going on a roadtrip). There were even times that I involuntarily had to listen to Molly’s mixes…
For two years, I was a passenger as my sister drove to and from school every day. She had an early 90s, unequipped, Mazda Protégé. The car had manual locks, AM/FM radio, a cassette player, no defrost that we could tell (guess who had to de-ice that every day while Molly got ready) and no passenger air-bags (I could go on about my fear regarding the lack of safety features on the car; however, I will not digress because I know Molly will not post this with information on her driving history…)
Due to an overwhelming hatred for morning talk radio and the low supply of tapes that my dad had (Jimmy Buffett, an Eagles tape, and maybe Mellencamp) Molly began making her own mixes. She entitled her first tape: Molly Music.
Over the course of the next two years, Molly developed probably over 8 Molly Musics and over a dozen other mixes. She put together compilations of bands/singer songwriters like: The Nields, Tori Amos, Sarah Mclachlan, and Lilith Fair. Molly kept the tapes in a fake-leather, hard-shell briefcase made specifically for tapes. The briefcase was stored on the passenger side floor board (invading my leg room in the already very “spacious” Mazda).
Some of you might not think that this situation does not seem that bad.
However, for a Freshman whose favorite bands at the time included The Deftones, Sublime, 311, RHCP, Tool, and Rage Against the Machine...this was a nightmare.
With a 30 minute round trip commute to and from school for two years, I listened to approximately 180 hours (7 and ½ straight days) of Molly Music. (I want to point out that these figures ONLY count school transportation and greatly diminishes any other time I spent being a passenger in the Mazda.)
I know that the figures above are accurate in regards to school transportation, because Molly NEVER LET ME BRING ANOTHER TAPE INTO HER CAR!! For those two years that my sister drove before she went to college I was subjected to a complete dictatorship in regards to the music I listened to (while being transported). Molly ruled the Mazda with an iron fist when it came to music.
When my friends needed a ride, I would have to explain to them who the fuck The Nields were (and how Ash Wednesday was a song about a teenager being pregnant (I think)).
I do want to give Molly credit. I was allowed to make one tape where I got to choose the songs (FROM PRE-APPROVED ARTISTS AND CDs) that was allowed to be played on every OTHER Friday ONE WAY. As much I enjoyed this, Molly really only followed through with this promise for about a month. (I don’t think I got a chance to listen to Side-B, which I’m sure really enhanced Side-A’s listening experience)
When Molly left for college, her High School Last Will and Testament included giving me the briefcase of tapes for me to listen to. I was fucking pissed.
As time has gone by, I have either mellowed out or have grown to appreciate (in small, voluntary doses) the above artists. I can also say that my favorite female artists, thanks to Molly, include: Dar Williams, Michelle Shocked, Fiona Apple, and Nanci Griffith. I even entertained the idea of seeing Nanci Griffith in concert. I also will always think of Molly when I hear Billy Joel’s Downeaster Alexa and her explaining to me about this sad, sad fisherman.
I seriously thank my sister for exposing me to music that I would have never listened to and think that it has really given me a better appreciation of music. That doesn’t mean I agree with her methods of teaching them to me. This would be the time that I would like to mention that Molly used to sit on me and read to me when I refused to be taught multiplication and division “for fun” when I was only 5.
The Mazda was later sold through the newspaper when Molly got my Dad’s Toyota Camry (see “that new car smell”, 8/19/07). I stored the briefcase of Molly Music’s in the basement. Unfortunately, it was ruined when our basement flooded. Strangely, I wish I still had the briefcase of tapes.
Of course, then I would have to buy a tape player.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is Molly again. I really don't have anything to say in my defense, except I would like to point out that I actually made 14 Molly Musics, and not 8 as George says above. I'm a little sad that George didn't find volumes 9-14 as thrilling as I did, but I'll get over it.
Just send me an e-mail if you would like to be Special Guest Blogger!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I probably should have read a book instead
It's been a long day. It yielded nothing really interesting to blog about. It was the kind of day where you just want to come home and watch tv. So I introduce a new feature, "What is on TV tonight?" We will see what is on tv, channel-by-channel. It is 8:10 p.m. Here we go.
12 - Antiques Roadshow. Some woman just found out that this thing shaped like a pig had a lot of worth. Now there is a different woman with a painting. I do not like the painting and do not care how much it is worth so I am switching.
13 - Looks like a crime show with snarky investigators. I bet they catch the perp.
14 - Home shopping. They are selling blazers with knotted fringe. They are telling me that I better call now, and good luck getting through.
15 - More home shopping. They are selling a toy plane.
16 - More home shopping. They are selling a thing you put in a chair and it helps your back. It looks kind of like a frisbee.
17 - More home shopping. They are selling presidential coins. Mildly interesting and a potential Christmas gift for my dad, but I am moving on.
18 - A preacher just totally made a woman dance! Turns out she had groin pain and a toe amputated! (I don't know how the two are related) Now she has no pain! Thank you Jesus!
19 - Looks like a nighttime soap opera for people in their fifties.
20 - A woman is singing a spiritual and people are feeling the spirit.
21 - The Seattle Channel is talking about the Pike Place Market in World War II.
22 - The King County Channel is talking about identity theft.
23 - Some public access channel is showing the state human rights commission
24 - C-Span is having a Katrina summit. I cannot understand what this guy is saying.
25 - C-Span2. Don't know what they're talking about, don't care.
26 - I have no idea what channel this is, but they're talking about security on ferries.
27 - A surgery. I don't know what of, I had to quickly change the channel. Gross.
28 - It is impossible to tell.
29 - Soap opera in foreign language
30 - Baseball game, Mariners 5, Los Angeles 3.
31 - Commercial for a car
32 - Basketball game, USA 18, Puerto Rico 13
33 - Commercial for identity theft protection. Some guy put his social security on a truck and drove it around New York City. I googled it. Apparently everyone has blogged about this already.
34 - Geico commercial. I'm not gonna lie, I like that little gecko.
35 - Food Network. It is a guy. I didn't know there were guys other than Emeril on the Food Network. He is making a mousse.
36 - The Travel Channel is talking about Austin, TX, and two of my favorite things--barbeque and live music
37 - History Channel! I watch for two minutes and see no mention of Nazis. I am pissed. Changing channel.
38 - I think it's a show about busting people for identity theft. Can't tell for sure.
39 - Austin Powers #1 is on. It might have been long enough since I've seen this movie that I might enjoy watching it again. But I have never been too fond of Mike Myers since I read all about his feuds with Dana Carvey on the Wayne's World 2 set. Who gets into a feud with Dana Carvey, honestly?
40 - Sponge Bob Square Pants. This show is too loud and colorful for me to watch in my current mood.
41 - The Emperor's New Groove is on Disney, which I only identify by Googling John Goodman, David Spade, animated.
42 - Some cartoon with an elephant
43 - A commercial about kids playing with educational software and becoming geniuses.
44 - CNN wonders if we're doing enough to rebuild New Orleans
45 - Halle Berry is talking about being a depressed celebrity, I guess they are talking about Owen Wilson. That story makes me very sad and I am changing the channel.
46 - Mad Money. This show makes me nausous with all the camera angles.
47 - Someone is talking about crime.
48 - Fox News is talking about Miss South Carolina and her wacky answers to pageant question. Poor girl is 17. Also, she's from South Carolina...she has enough against her. Zing, South Carolina!
49 - Court TV is showing an arrest. A kid is crying. Very traumatic.
50 - A cow is telling me to drink soy milk. The cow has too much attitude for my taste.
51 - It's a commercial for a douche. I'm not even making that up. Oh, apparently it's Lifetime.
52 - Some guy is driving somewhere, maybe to make some dreams come true.
53 - The Aviator. I like Cate Blanchett, and I like Katherine Hepburn. This movie attempts to combine the two.
54 - Law & Order. Do you know that I have never watched any Law & Order all the way through? I feel pretty good about that.
55 - Everybody Loves Raymond. Bleh.
56 - I don't know what this is.
57 - Some girl is having a drug freakout I think.
58 - I don't know what this is.
59 - Commercial for a car. Now a commercial for tooth whitening strips.
60 - Commercial for appliances
61 - Some guys are talking about renovating a truck so that it's "insane"
62 - It is a commercial for a show that is going to talk about rich celebrities. They are saying that Oprah flies her dogs first class.
63 - It is MTV. It is a fashion show.
64 - MTV2. I forget the guy's name, but it's the song by the guy who was found to be dancing with an underage girl at his concert. I could Google it but I don't want to. I am pretty sick of this song, and I don't even listen to the radio.
65 - It is E! They are talking about Christina Aguilera's fashion evolution.
66 - Top Chef. Maybe I would care about this show if I cared about cooking, or if I could eat the food.
67 - Raising Helen with Kate Hudson. Kind of uncomfortable to watch with this whole Owen Wilson thing going on.
68 - Some people who had their home remodeled by strangers are looking at it. They seem kind of ambivalent about it.
69 - Commercial for insurance
75 - Nat King Cole is singing a song.
76 - A powerpoint presentation about drugs
77 - No idea.
78 - Weather Channel. It is currently 70 degrees in downtown Seattle. Tomorrow it will be sunny!
2 - Commercial for a truck
3 - Commercial to eliminate debt
4 - It looks like a hidden camera show, but I'm not sticking around to find out.
5 - A special on the history of Saturday Night Live, right now they are talking about Bill Murray. I might come back to this. I like the skits with him and Gilda.
6 - Dr. Phil is dealing with what looks like a mother/daughter pair who have had some drama. I don't care what about.
7 - One of the 55 game shows hosted by Drew Carey, followed by a commercial about cervical cancer. Is there a connection there?
8 - Commercial for Home Depot
9 - PBS is talking about Katrina
10 - Commercial for a toy drive
11 - Gilmore Girls. It is the episode where Lorelei sang karaoke and Luke walked in to see her singing "I Will Always Love You". Kinda makes me teary.
And we're done! Hooray! Either I need a better cable package, or I have just presented concrete evidence of a civilization seriously in decline!
12 - Antiques Roadshow. Some woman just found out that this thing shaped like a pig had a lot of worth. Now there is a different woman with a painting. I do not like the painting and do not care how much it is worth so I am switching.
13 - Looks like a crime show with snarky investigators. I bet they catch the perp.
14 - Home shopping. They are selling blazers with knotted fringe. They are telling me that I better call now, and good luck getting through.
15 - More home shopping. They are selling a toy plane.
16 - More home shopping. They are selling a thing you put in a chair and it helps your back. It looks kind of like a frisbee.
17 - More home shopping. They are selling presidential coins. Mildly interesting and a potential Christmas gift for my dad, but I am moving on.
18 - A preacher just totally made a woman dance! Turns out she had groin pain and a toe amputated! (I don't know how the two are related) Now she has no pain! Thank you Jesus!
19 - Looks like a nighttime soap opera for people in their fifties.
20 - A woman is singing a spiritual and people are feeling the spirit.
21 - The Seattle Channel is talking about the Pike Place Market in World War II.
22 - The King County Channel is talking about identity theft.
23 - Some public access channel is showing the state human rights commission
24 - C-Span is having a Katrina summit. I cannot understand what this guy is saying.
25 - C-Span2. Don't know what they're talking about, don't care.
26 - I have no idea what channel this is, but they're talking about security on ferries.
27 - A surgery. I don't know what of, I had to quickly change the channel. Gross.
28 - It is impossible to tell.
29 - Soap opera in foreign language
30 - Baseball game, Mariners 5, Los Angeles 3.
31 - Commercial for a car
32 - Basketball game, USA 18, Puerto Rico 13
33 - Commercial for identity theft protection. Some guy put his social security on a truck and drove it around New York City. I googled it. Apparently everyone has blogged about this already.
34 - Geico commercial. I'm not gonna lie, I like that little gecko.
35 - Food Network. It is a guy. I didn't know there were guys other than Emeril on the Food Network. He is making a mousse.
36 - The Travel Channel is talking about Austin, TX, and two of my favorite things--barbeque and live music
37 - History Channel! I watch for two minutes and see no mention of Nazis. I am pissed. Changing channel.
38 - I think it's a show about busting people for identity theft. Can't tell for sure.
39 - Austin Powers #1 is on. It might have been long enough since I've seen this movie that I might enjoy watching it again. But I have never been too fond of Mike Myers since I read all about his feuds with Dana Carvey on the Wayne's World 2 set. Who gets into a feud with Dana Carvey, honestly?
40 - Sponge Bob Square Pants. This show is too loud and colorful for me to watch in my current mood.
41 - The Emperor's New Groove is on Disney, which I only identify by Googling John Goodman, David Spade, animated.
42 - Some cartoon with an elephant
43 - A commercial about kids playing with educational software and becoming geniuses.
44 - CNN wonders if we're doing enough to rebuild New Orleans
45 - Halle Berry is talking about being a depressed celebrity, I guess they are talking about Owen Wilson. That story makes me very sad and I am changing the channel.
46 - Mad Money. This show makes me nausous with all the camera angles.
47 - Someone is talking about crime.
48 - Fox News is talking about Miss South Carolina and her wacky answers to pageant question. Poor girl is 17. Also, she's from South Carolina...she has enough against her. Zing, South Carolina!
49 - Court TV is showing an arrest. A kid is crying. Very traumatic.
50 - A cow is telling me to drink soy milk. The cow has too much attitude for my taste.
51 - It's a commercial for a douche. I'm not even making that up. Oh, apparently it's Lifetime.
52 - Some guy is driving somewhere, maybe to make some dreams come true.
53 - The Aviator. I like Cate Blanchett, and I like Katherine Hepburn. This movie attempts to combine the two.
54 - Law & Order. Do you know that I have never watched any Law & Order all the way through? I feel pretty good about that.
55 - Everybody Loves Raymond. Bleh.
56 - I don't know what this is.
57 - Some girl is having a drug freakout I think.
58 - I don't know what this is.
59 - Commercial for a car. Now a commercial for tooth whitening strips.
60 - Commercial for appliances
61 - Some guys are talking about renovating a truck so that it's "insane"
62 - It is a commercial for a show that is going to talk about rich celebrities. They are saying that Oprah flies her dogs first class.
63 - It is MTV. It is a fashion show.
64 - MTV2. I forget the guy's name, but it's the song by the guy who was found to be dancing with an underage girl at his concert. I could Google it but I don't want to. I am pretty sick of this song, and I don't even listen to the radio.
65 - It is E! They are talking about Christina Aguilera's fashion evolution.
66 - Top Chef. Maybe I would care about this show if I cared about cooking, or if I could eat the food.
67 - Raising Helen with Kate Hudson. Kind of uncomfortable to watch with this whole Owen Wilson thing going on.
68 - Some people who had their home remodeled by strangers are looking at it. They seem kind of ambivalent about it.
69 - Commercial for insurance
75 - Nat King Cole is singing a song.
76 - A powerpoint presentation about drugs
77 - No idea.
78 - Weather Channel. It is currently 70 degrees in downtown Seattle. Tomorrow it will be sunny!
2 - Commercial for a truck
3 - Commercial to eliminate debt
4 - It looks like a hidden camera show, but I'm not sticking around to find out.
5 - A special on the history of Saturday Night Live, right now they are talking about Bill Murray. I might come back to this. I like the skits with him and Gilda.
6 - Dr. Phil is dealing with what looks like a mother/daughter pair who have had some drama. I don't care what about.
7 - One of the 55 game shows hosted by Drew Carey, followed by a commercial about cervical cancer. Is there a connection there?
8 - Commercial for Home Depot
9 - PBS is talking about Katrina
10 - Commercial for a toy drive
11 - Gilmore Girls. It is the episode where Lorelei sang karaoke and Luke walked in to see her singing "I Will Always Love You". Kinda makes me teary.
And we're done! Hooray! Either I need a better cable package, or I have just presented concrete evidence of a civilization seriously in decline!
Monday, August 27, 2007
ring of fire
What a day. Today I woke up and saw that Alberto Gonzalez resigned. Instead of being happy, I was just sad that the Daily Show and Colbert are in reruns this week. They are missing out on some prime jokes. Do you think Alberto did that on purpose? No, you're right, I don't think he has that kind of foresight either.
Today at work we had a presentation by Red Cross about disaster preparedness. The lady was very nice even though her job was essentially to scare us silly with statistics about earthquakes and tsunamis and volcano eruptions and flooding, and how everyone needs to have a disaster kit to get through all these disasters which are just around the corner. But she had a good sense of humor, and in telling us about how to personalize our disaster kits, she said, "I know I'm going to need a glass of wine if I'm in an earthquake, so I have some in my disaster kit!" And she made a good point, that if you are going to do something like that, then you should use boxed wine, and not a bottle of wine, because that might break in the earthquake. That is very good advice.
She said that in this area, the number one thing that the Red Cross responds to is house fires. Then she gave some advice about candles in the household, complete with an anecdote about a woman who had a candle going but then her cat's tail caught on fire, and she tried to throw water on the cat, but cats don't like water, so it set off running through the house, with its tail ablaze. I didn't quite catch how the fire went out, but it's a good story all the same.
But listening to the fire conversation did take me a back a little bit to when I was 5 years old. In kindegarten, we did stations, and one of the stations was watching 20 minutes or so of Sesame Street. Except when my group got to the station, it was a PBS documentary about families who lose everything in fires. I sat there for 20 minutes and got terrified. I think the point of the show was that kids were supposed to go home and draw escape maps with their parents, and talk about what to do in a fire. But what I took from that was that I was going to lose everything in a fire.
The results of this horrible show on my sensitive psyche were that I slept with a bag of belongings by my bed every night, so I could grab it and run if the fire started at night (although I was likely more convinced that I would just burn to death). But if we were leaving the house for any period of time, I wanted to take several bags of belongings, including a big bag of books so that I would have enough to read until all my things could be replaced.
The bag o'books made my dad mad. I guess there was no room in the car for my brothers with the bag or something. So sometimes, my mom would go out and hide it in the car, so I could have it. The habit of taking so many books with me pretty much ended when my dad put some on the top of the car while he was getting kids settled, and then he drove off without getting the books. I never saw those books again. I learned a horrible lesson that sometimes you don't even have to live through a fire to lose your books.
I forget where I was going with this. I'm too depressed to continue.
Today at work we had a presentation by Red Cross about disaster preparedness. The lady was very nice even though her job was essentially to scare us silly with statistics about earthquakes and tsunamis and volcano eruptions and flooding, and how everyone needs to have a disaster kit to get through all these disasters which are just around the corner. But she had a good sense of humor, and in telling us about how to personalize our disaster kits, she said, "I know I'm going to need a glass of wine if I'm in an earthquake, so I have some in my disaster kit!" And she made a good point, that if you are going to do something like that, then you should use boxed wine, and not a bottle of wine, because that might break in the earthquake. That is very good advice.
She said that in this area, the number one thing that the Red Cross responds to is house fires. Then she gave some advice about candles in the household, complete with an anecdote about a woman who had a candle going but then her cat's tail caught on fire, and she tried to throw water on the cat, but cats don't like water, so it set off running through the house, with its tail ablaze. I didn't quite catch how the fire went out, but it's a good story all the same.
But listening to the fire conversation did take me a back a little bit to when I was 5 years old. In kindegarten, we did stations, and one of the stations was watching 20 minutes or so of Sesame Street. Except when my group got to the station, it was a PBS documentary about families who lose everything in fires. I sat there for 20 minutes and got terrified. I think the point of the show was that kids were supposed to go home and draw escape maps with their parents, and talk about what to do in a fire. But what I took from that was that I was going to lose everything in a fire.
The results of this horrible show on my sensitive psyche were that I slept with a bag of belongings by my bed every night, so I could grab it and run if the fire started at night (although I was likely more convinced that I would just burn to death). But if we were leaving the house for any period of time, I wanted to take several bags of belongings, including a big bag of books so that I would have enough to read until all my things could be replaced.
The bag o'books made my dad mad. I guess there was no room in the car for my brothers with the bag or something. So sometimes, my mom would go out and hide it in the car, so I could have it. The habit of taking so many books with me pretty much ended when my dad put some on the top of the car while he was getting kids settled, and then he drove off without getting the books. I never saw those books again. I learned a horrible lesson that sometimes you don't even have to live through a fire to lose your books.
I forget where I was going with this. I'm too depressed to continue.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
another view
Time for some more pictures (can you tell I have been taking things off the digital camera this weekend?)
One the best viewpoints in Seattle is from my office window. I have a truly amazing view of Elliott Bay, the ferry terminal, the port, the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
Looking straight out:
Looking over a little bit:
I watch boats a lot, from sailboats to ferry boats to container ships. I watch the flag waving. Birds come by to say hello. I count cars that get stopped in traffic. I look at the water and it makes me calm. If you are from my office and are reading this, all of this time looking out the window in no way affects my productivity....
One of the truly sad things about this view is that around 2 or 3 pm on a sunny day, the sun is directly in my eyes and I have to shut the shade a little bit. I hate to do it, because it's ridiculous to close out this view, but if I don't I go blind.
One of the advantages of this view is that it's beautiful, even in gray or gross weather:
I love getting to watch the water change, and really, if I took a picture every day of what it looks like out my window, it would always look different.
Sometimes it's sad to think that I will never have a view as gorgeous as I have now.
One the best viewpoints in Seattle is from my office window. I have a truly amazing view of Elliott Bay, the ferry terminal, the port, the Alaskan Way Viaduct.
Looking straight out:
Looking over a little bit:
I watch boats a lot, from sailboats to ferry boats to container ships. I watch the flag waving. Birds come by to say hello. I count cars that get stopped in traffic. I look at the water and it makes me calm. If you are from my office and are reading this, all of this time looking out the window in no way affects my productivity....
One of the truly sad things about this view is that around 2 or 3 pm on a sunny day, the sun is directly in my eyes and I have to shut the shade a little bit. I hate to do it, because it's ridiculous to close out this view, but if I don't I go blind.
One of the advantages of this view is that it's beautiful, even in gray or gross weather:
I love getting to watch the water change, and really, if I took a picture every day of what it looks like out my window, it would always look different.
Sometimes it's sad to think that I will never have a view as gorgeous as I have now.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Two of the best views of Seattle
It's a gray day. One topic that comes up frequently in Seattle these days, and that is the poor weather we've had this summer. In case you are unfamiliar, one of the main reasons people live in Seattle is for the summer. You spend months of your life battling rain and gray and whatnot, but then there's four perfect months where there's not a cloud in the sky, it's warm but not scorching hot, the water is blue, and no one has a care in the world.
Except we didn't really have that this summer.
I don't really know why I am putting this all down as lead-up, because all I was going to say is that the pictures below were not taken today, because today is gray. These pictures were taken on nice days.
The pictures below are two of my favorite views of Seattle, and if you're visiting, I would tell you to go to these places for a great picture of Seattle, and not necessarily the Space Needle. And not just because these places are free. Everybody thinks the view from the Space Needle is good because you're up so high, but don't go unless it is absolutely crystal clear, with not a cloud in the sky. I haven't even let my own parents go. But the main benefit to me, at these places, you get the Space Needle IN the picture. I think it adds a little something.
View #1: Kerry Park
This viewpoint is in my neighborhood. To the right of the image, you can see Mount Rainier. This park was used in a scene of Grey's Anatomy once; Meredith and George sat on the wall in front of this view and talked about heartbreaking things. The only downside to this park, I would say, is despite the presence of a few benches, it's really not the kind of park that you hang out in.
View #2: Gasworks Park
This park is in Fremont and is one of my favorite places in Seattle. I don't get over there as much as I'd like these days, but when I first moved to Seattle, I could walk here. I would go over, read, get sunburnt, and look at my new city. There is a bench in this park that was used in the movies Singles, and also this park was used for the paintball scene in 10 Things I Hate About You. People like to fly kites here a lot.
It used to be a gas plant, and some of the remains are still up:
Kinda makes it look like we had a nice summer, huh?
Except we didn't really have that this summer.
I don't really know why I am putting this all down as lead-up, because all I was going to say is that the pictures below were not taken today, because today is gray. These pictures were taken on nice days.
The pictures below are two of my favorite views of Seattle, and if you're visiting, I would tell you to go to these places for a great picture of Seattle, and not necessarily the Space Needle. And not just because these places are free. Everybody thinks the view from the Space Needle is good because you're up so high, but don't go unless it is absolutely crystal clear, with not a cloud in the sky. I haven't even let my own parents go. But the main benefit to me, at these places, you get the Space Needle IN the picture. I think it adds a little something.
View #1: Kerry Park
This viewpoint is in my neighborhood. To the right of the image, you can see Mount Rainier. This park was used in a scene of Grey's Anatomy once; Meredith and George sat on the wall in front of this view and talked about heartbreaking things. The only downside to this park, I would say, is despite the presence of a few benches, it's really not the kind of park that you hang out in.
View #2: Gasworks Park
This park is in Fremont and is one of my favorite places in Seattle. I don't get over there as much as I'd like these days, but when I first moved to Seattle, I could walk here. I would go over, read, get sunburnt, and look at my new city. There is a bench in this park that was used in the movies Singles, and also this park was used for the paintball scene in 10 Things I Hate About You. People like to fly kites here a lot.
It used to be a gas plant, and some of the remains are still up:
Kinda makes it look like we had a nice summer, huh?
Friday, August 24, 2007
Leggo my Eggo
Today is a great day in the history of food. On this day in 1853, the first potato chips were prepared by chef George Crum in Saratoga Springs, New York. In 1869, the waffle iron was patented in the United States. In 1891, Thomas Edison patented the motion picture camera, which would eventually facilitate the Food Network and Rachael Ray's career. On this date in 79, Mount Vesuvius erupted, which could probably be linked to food somehow, but probably only through a tasteless joke.
I did some research on potato chips. They came into being because someone kept sending french fries back to the kitchen, saying they were too thick, soggy, and not salty enough. George Crum, who was getting mad and feeling spiteful, sliced the potatoes really thin, fried them til they were burnt to a crisp, and threw a lot of salt on there. Lo and behold, he created a culinary delight. The lesson here is, don't be shy about sending food back to the kitchen, because you might help invent something delicious.
Now, today's significance regarding waffles is a little dubious. Today only marks the patenting, and Wikipedia claims that pilgrims brought pseudo-waffle irons to America as early as the 1620's. But still, today I am celebrating waffles, and you can't stop me.
Can you imagine a world without waffles? I certainly cannot. I ate some for breakfast. If we didn't have waffles, we'd all just be eating pancakes if we wanted to have something that was once in batter form for breakfast.
There would be no Waffle House...we'd all have to go to IHOP if we wanted to socialize at 3 am. And frankly, IHOP takes a lot longer and is more expensive. Since 1955, WaHo has served 495,264,367 waffles! There might not even be a south if there were no Waffle Houses.
Belgium might not exist either if it weren't for waffles.
Also, the guy who co-founded Nike used a waffle iron to figure out the soles for Nike shoes. Maybe we would not have any athletes if we did not have waffles.
Would there be any waffle cones if we didn't have waffles? Probably not.
In conclusion, if we did not have waffles, we would not have as much happiness in the world.
I did some research on potato chips. They came into being because someone kept sending french fries back to the kitchen, saying they were too thick, soggy, and not salty enough. George Crum, who was getting mad and feeling spiteful, sliced the potatoes really thin, fried them til they were burnt to a crisp, and threw a lot of salt on there. Lo and behold, he created a culinary delight. The lesson here is, don't be shy about sending food back to the kitchen, because you might help invent something delicious.
Now, today's significance regarding waffles is a little dubious. Today only marks the patenting, and Wikipedia claims that pilgrims brought pseudo-waffle irons to America as early as the 1620's. But still, today I am celebrating waffles, and you can't stop me.
Can you imagine a world without waffles? I certainly cannot. I ate some for breakfast. If we didn't have waffles, we'd all just be eating pancakes if we wanted to have something that was once in batter form for breakfast.
There would be no Waffle House...we'd all have to go to IHOP if we wanted to socialize at 3 am. And frankly, IHOP takes a lot longer and is more expensive. Since 1955, WaHo has served 495,264,367 waffles! There might not even be a south if there were no Waffle Houses.
Belgium might not exist either if it weren't for waffles.
Also, the guy who co-founded Nike used a waffle iron to figure out the soles for Nike shoes. Maybe we would not have any athletes if we did not have waffles.
Would there be any waffle cones if we didn't have waffles? Probably not.
In conclusion, if we did not have waffles, we would not have as much happiness in the world.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Special Guest Blogger
I thought I'd continue on yesterday's post to show Bev Night from Matthew's perspective. Once we went to a reading at Elliott Bay Bookstore because it was required for one of his creative writing classes. He sent me the write-up of the event that he did for the class, I think to pacify me, because I was always begging to be in one of the stories. And eventually I was! But I can't post that.
Do I feel guilty about not really writing a post today and instead using someone else's writing? No, I do not. Because it's kinda like I wrote it, since I was there and all. If you would like to be a special guest blogger, just write something about me.
Without further ado, I turn it over to special guest blogger Matthew, and the assignment he wrote about a year ago:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I enter Elliot Bay Book Company just after six-thirty. Molly is there, browsing the wall of staff recommendations, and we greet each other with familiar comfort. She’s looking for a copy of Mary, the book we are about to attend a reading of, to mill over. The novel is historical fiction, told first person from the perspective of Mary Todd Lincoln as she recounts her life during her brief middle-aged stay in a mental institution.
I quickly look around, “there’s some over by the cash register,” I say.
“Yeah, but it would be awkward to look right there,” she says, eyeing the three cashiers manning the lone register. We’ve formed a friendship around noting and sharing our everyday anxieties and awkward moments.
Molly’s companionship was a given. Every Wednesday we meet for coffee in a ritual we saccharinely refer to as Bev Night. Bev is, naturally, short for beverage. Additionally, it’s the only time me and Molly ever hang out. Forgetting the copies of Janis Cooke Newman’s Mary piled at the registers, we go downstairs to the book store’s café. She orders a tall mocha while I linger, thumbing through the counter menus. Eventually I settle on raspberry iced tea and an espresso brownie, leaving a dollar tip out of guilt for the waiting barista.
We sit and begin sipping our drinks. A woman across the room enters with her large golden lab dog, prompting me to glare over at Molly. We both hate it when people treat dogs like humans.
“When I was younger,” Molly says to begin a story, “My parents drove me and my siblings around to all the civil war battle sites as a vacation.” She grew up in North Carolina and I always love hearing about the differences between our upbringings. “On one trip we took a tour of Mary Todd Lincoln’s childhood home. At the start of the tour, the woman who was running it, some elderly volunteer, asked if there were any questions. Now, keeping in mind that I was seven or eight at the time, I raised my hand and said that Lincoln once told his wife that God only had one D in his name, but the Todds had to have two. The families around all laughed, but the woman ignored me for the rest of the tour.” I laugh and easily imagine Molly as a precocious seven year old.
Minutes before seven-thirty I use the bathroom, as I wouldn’t want to interrupt the reading and there’s nothing worse than really needing to use the bathroom in public but being unable to do so. The room where Elliot Bay holds readings is dank and dimly lit with a tile floor you would see in a gym’s communal shower. Old books line the walls in rustic shelves, serving as a backdrop to a wooden podium in front of dozens of chairs with blue seats. Molly and I have been to readings here before, joining the crowd of fans anxious for readings by Bret Easton Ellis and Margaret Cho, on separate occasions.
Barely on time, we entered the room to see the employee coordinator chatting with the author off to the side. There was one lone woman seated in one of the chairs, curiously hiding at the edge of the row. I led Molly to the second row, center. “Maybe we should think of some questions,” she whispered.
Another couple and woman entered the room, ten minutes late, making us an attentive audience of six. Upon the suggestion of the coordinator, the author ignored the podium and
formed a circle with us in the chairs. She read a passage about Mary Lincoln volunteering at a hospital for injured civil war solider. In the six page segment she used the word “sweetest” three times and variations of the phrase “scent of death” at least five. I started to wonder if the problem with writing historical fiction was that the author becomes trapped in needing to tell certain events and while adhering to certain boundaries of a historic figure’s personality.
I shyly kept my comments to myself and instead sought to glean from the conversation going on around me. The manuscript was over one thousand pages long, her publishers wanted 500 to make the work more accessible and she settled at 700. The publishers wanted a one word title for the novel, initially suggesting Asylum. The author took three years to write and research the novel, and for the first two for fifteen minutes before sitting down to write she would read old letters written by Mary Todd Lincoln to get in the proper mindset and voice.
The author said that for her, writing the novel had been easier than memoir. Hearing this was the biggest surprise of the night for me, as I knew that all writers were taken up in voyeuristic obsession with other people, but I thought most also loved to talk about themselves.
Do I feel guilty about not really writing a post today and instead using someone else's writing? No, I do not. Because it's kinda like I wrote it, since I was there and all. If you would like to be a special guest blogger, just write something about me.
Without further ado, I turn it over to special guest blogger Matthew, and the assignment he wrote about a year ago:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
I enter Elliot Bay Book Company just after six-thirty. Molly is there, browsing the wall of staff recommendations, and we greet each other with familiar comfort. She’s looking for a copy of Mary, the book we are about to attend a reading of, to mill over. The novel is historical fiction, told first person from the perspective of Mary Todd Lincoln as she recounts her life during her brief middle-aged stay in a mental institution.
I quickly look around, “there’s some over by the cash register,” I say.
“Yeah, but it would be awkward to look right there,” she says, eyeing the three cashiers manning the lone register. We’ve formed a friendship around noting and sharing our everyday anxieties and awkward moments.
Molly’s companionship was a given. Every Wednesday we meet for coffee in a ritual we saccharinely refer to as Bev Night. Bev is, naturally, short for beverage. Additionally, it’s the only time me and Molly ever hang out. Forgetting the copies of Janis Cooke Newman’s Mary piled at the registers, we go downstairs to the book store’s café. She orders a tall mocha while I linger, thumbing through the counter menus. Eventually I settle on raspberry iced tea and an espresso brownie, leaving a dollar tip out of guilt for the waiting barista.
We sit and begin sipping our drinks. A woman across the room enters with her large golden lab dog, prompting me to glare over at Molly. We both hate it when people treat dogs like humans.
“When I was younger,” Molly says to begin a story, “My parents drove me and my siblings around to all the civil war battle sites as a vacation.” She grew up in North Carolina and I always love hearing about the differences between our upbringings. “On one trip we took a tour of Mary Todd Lincoln’s childhood home. At the start of the tour, the woman who was running it, some elderly volunteer, asked if there were any questions. Now, keeping in mind that I was seven or eight at the time, I raised my hand and said that Lincoln once told his wife that God only had one D in his name, but the Todds had to have two. The families around all laughed, but the woman ignored me for the rest of the tour.” I laugh and easily imagine Molly as a precocious seven year old.
Minutes before seven-thirty I use the bathroom, as I wouldn’t want to interrupt the reading and there’s nothing worse than really needing to use the bathroom in public but being unable to do so. The room where Elliot Bay holds readings is dank and dimly lit with a tile floor you would see in a gym’s communal shower. Old books line the walls in rustic shelves, serving as a backdrop to a wooden podium in front of dozens of chairs with blue seats. Molly and I have been to readings here before, joining the crowd of fans anxious for readings by Bret Easton Ellis and Margaret Cho, on separate occasions.
Barely on time, we entered the room to see the employee coordinator chatting with the author off to the side. There was one lone woman seated in one of the chairs, curiously hiding at the edge of the row. I led Molly to the second row, center. “Maybe we should think of some questions,” she whispered.
Another couple and woman entered the room, ten minutes late, making us an attentive audience of six. Upon the suggestion of the coordinator, the author ignored the podium and
formed a circle with us in the chairs. She read a passage about Mary Lincoln volunteering at a hospital for injured civil war solider. In the six page segment she used the word “sweetest” three times and variations of the phrase “scent of death” at least five. I started to wonder if the problem with writing historical fiction was that the author becomes trapped in needing to tell certain events and while adhering to certain boundaries of a historic figure’s personality.
I shyly kept my comments to myself and instead sought to glean from the conversation going on around me. The manuscript was over one thousand pages long, her publishers wanted 500 to make the work more accessible and she settled at 700. The publishers wanted a one word title for the novel, initially suggesting Asylum. The author took three years to write and research the novel, and for the first two for fifteen minutes before sitting down to write she would read old letters written by Mary Todd Lincoln to get in the proper mindset and voice.
The author said that for her, writing the novel had been easier than memoir. Hearing this was the biggest surprise of the night for me, as I knew that all writers were taken up in voyeuristic obsession with other people, but I thought most also loved to talk about themselves.
Bev Night
This is my 100th post! Granted, about a fifth of those posts are due to my August resolution to blog every day in the month, but still, a nice accomplishment. Maybe I will subconsciously strive to make it to 200 by the end of the year. But that is a lot of blogging.
To celebrate the 100th post, I am going to write about something that I have been meaning to write about for awhile--the tradition of Bev Night.
As has already been discussed in my Capitol Hill post, Bev Night started around the time my friend Katy quit Old Navy. Wednesday was one of the few nights of the week that I had off, so Katy and I would meet to chat, catch up, and have a beverage. We always went to Joe Bar; Katy had gotten to know everyone at Joe Bar really well, and there was never a question of going anywhere else. We'd chat for an hour or so, and then we'd go over to Nekesa's for Wife Swap or the Surreal Life or something.
One night, Matthew, another co-worker at Old Navy, who also knew Katy, asked about her, saying something like, "Don't you two get together and sit on the porch and drink iced tea on Wednesdays?" I told Katy this, and she agreed that it was hilarious, and that Matthew should come to Beverage Night one week.
Based on an old e-mail I was able to track down, this meeting took place on June 8, 2005. That was the week I started my job, and about the time that Katy left Seattle to get ready to go to Africa for the Peace Corps. It was a passing of the torch, and the next week, it was just Matthew and me, having a beverage in the U-District, and Bev Night was up and running.
While Katy started the phenomenon, Bev Night really became what it was under this second regime. For one, Matthew's the one who shortened it to "Bev Night." Also, Matthew and I weren't tied down to one place like Katy was to Joe Bar, so we've gone all over to Seattle. We didn't do a repeat for a really long time, but I guess now we have our favorites. Today I tried to think of a list of everywhere we've been, and this one is probably woefully incomplete. It's organized by neighborhood:
U-District: Espresso Roma, Dick's Smokin' Barbeque, Tully's, Haagen Dazs, Jalisco, Trabant Chai, Ginko, Starlight on the Oasis, some place that I don't remember the name of but it had shells on the table, Northlake Pizza, U-Village Starbucks
Capitol Hill: Top Pot, Bauhaus, Victrola, Online Coffee Company, Chapel, Bimbo's Bitchin Burritos, Cafe Vita
Downtown/Belltown/Pioneer Square: Tia Lou's, Fado, Elliott Bay Bookstore, Starbucks in Barnes & Noble, Dragonfish, Twist, McCormick & Schmick's, Nijo, Cosi
Queen Anne: Sushi Land, El Diablo, Uptown Espresso, Peso's, Tini Big's, Jalisco, Dick's, Cafe Zingaro
Ballard/Fremont/Greenlake: Cupcake Royale, Mr. Chai's Something, Tully's, Postmark Gelato, Cafe Ladro, Chocolati
I should have kept better notes about all the places we went, as well as all the conversations we had. There have been some funny ones. I have followed Matthew's progression through school, he has kept track of all my workplace enemies. We've had supporting characters and "special guest stars" (people who are allowed to come to bev night, but rarely and usually only once or twice). What was once just grabbing a cup of coffee has expanded into happy hours, dinners, game nights, book readings, even a Fiona Apple concert.
Some nice things about bev night:
--Its constancy and its dependability---Every Wednesday night, we are doing something. It's just not a question. Even my coworkers know not to ask me to do something on Wednesday. For one brief "quarter" (apparently, that's how UW measures time), we had to change to Tuesday night because of Matthew's class schedule, and that was truly a dark time in my life.
--The way it has allowed me to try many beverages and snacks and other food items I otherwise wouldn't have
--Matthew's company. (Awww!) Mainly, I enjoy trying to shape Matthew's life and complaining to him about mine.
Bev night was tonight, as usual! We went to Cupcake Royale. I had raspberry apple juice and a cupcake, and Matthew had water and a cupcake.
Anyways, I am probably not doing this phenomenon justice. It probably just sounds like two friends hanging out about once a week, but it is much more than that. One time, Matthew and I were comparing Bev Night to a two-person play. I do not enjoy thinking about how it might end.
To celebrate the 100th post, I am going to write about something that I have been meaning to write about for awhile--the tradition of Bev Night.
As has already been discussed in my Capitol Hill post, Bev Night started around the time my friend Katy quit Old Navy. Wednesday was one of the few nights of the week that I had off, so Katy and I would meet to chat, catch up, and have a beverage. We always went to Joe Bar; Katy had gotten to know everyone at Joe Bar really well, and there was never a question of going anywhere else. We'd chat for an hour or so, and then we'd go over to Nekesa's for Wife Swap or the Surreal Life or something.
One night, Matthew, another co-worker at Old Navy, who also knew Katy, asked about her, saying something like, "Don't you two get together and sit on the porch and drink iced tea on Wednesdays?" I told Katy this, and she agreed that it was hilarious, and that Matthew should come to Beverage Night one week.
Based on an old e-mail I was able to track down, this meeting took place on June 8, 2005. That was the week I started my job, and about the time that Katy left Seattle to get ready to go to Africa for the Peace Corps. It was a passing of the torch, and the next week, it was just Matthew and me, having a beverage in the U-District, and Bev Night was up and running.
While Katy started the phenomenon, Bev Night really became what it was under this second regime. For one, Matthew's the one who shortened it to "Bev Night." Also, Matthew and I weren't tied down to one place like Katy was to Joe Bar, so we've gone all over to Seattle. We didn't do a repeat for a really long time, but I guess now we have our favorites. Today I tried to think of a list of everywhere we've been, and this one is probably woefully incomplete. It's organized by neighborhood:
U-District: Espresso Roma, Dick's Smokin' Barbeque, Tully's, Haagen Dazs, Jalisco, Trabant Chai, Ginko, Starlight on the Oasis, some place that I don't remember the name of but it had shells on the table, Northlake Pizza, U-Village Starbucks
Capitol Hill: Top Pot, Bauhaus, Victrola, Online Coffee Company, Chapel, Bimbo's Bitchin Burritos, Cafe Vita
Downtown/Belltown/Pioneer Square: Tia Lou's, Fado, Elliott Bay Bookstore, Starbucks in Barnes & Noble, Dragonfish, Twist, McCormick & Schmick's, Nijo, Cosi
Queen Anne: Sushi Land, El Diablo, Uptown Espresso, Peso's, Tini Big's, Jalisco, Dick's, Cafe Zingaro
Ballard/Fremont/Greenlake: Cupcake Royale, Mr. Chai's Something, Tully's, Postmark Gelato, Cafe Ladro, Chocolati
I should have kept better notes about all the places we went, as well as all the conversations we had. There have been some funny ones. I have followed Matthew's progression through school, he has kept track of all my workplace enemies. We've had supporting characters and "special guest stars" (people who are allowed to come to bev night, but rarely and usually only once or twice). What was once just grabbing a cup of coffee has expanded into happy hours, dinners, game nights, book readings, even a Fiona Apple concert.
Some nice things about bev night:
--Its constancy and its dependability---Every Wednesday night, we are doing something. It's just not a question. Even my coworkers know not to ask me to do something on Wednesday. For one brief "quarter" (apparently, that's how UW measures time), we had to change to Tuesday night because of Matthew's class schedule, and that was truly a dark time in my life.
--The way it has allowed me to try many beverages and snacks and other food items I otherwise wouldn't have
--Matthew's company. (Awww!) Mainly, I enjoy trying to shape Matthew's life and complaining to him about mine.
Bev night was tonight, as usual! We went to Cupcake Royale. I had raspberry apple juice and a cupcake, and Matthew had water and a cupcake.
Anyways, I am probably not doing this phenomenon justice. It probably just sounds like two friends hanging out about once a week, but it is much more than that. One time, Matthew and I were comparing Bev Night to a two-person play. I do not enjoy thinking about how it might end.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
his goal in life was to be an echo
Tonight I went to see one of my favorite bands, Wilco. The band sounded great and played the usual suspects of songs. In fact, I was kind of surprised that they didn’t play more from the new album….this could have easily been a show in support of “A Ghost is Born.” I guess they played about 5 new ones.
They played outside at Marymoor Park, which is in Redmond, which is a suburb of Seattle, which seemed kind of weird to me. Wilco in the suburbs? It was a really nice outdoor venue, but Marymoor is the kind of place where you can bring a picnic and lounge about and whatnot, and while that sounds really nice, and I certainly enjoyed my picnic, but I did have some concerns about this kind of place. I think atmospheres like that can make people forget that they’re there to see a concert. They just treat the show as background music for their picnic.
I think there are some cases where it should be really hard to see an artist. Like maybe you have to take a test to prove you like them, or you have to endure miserable conditions to get to the show, because being able to weather the conditions proves that you understand what a concert and music is all about. I would hope that these conditions would prevent people from doing things like bringing babies and talking while someone else is singing.
I don’t want to sound like I have a stick up my butt. Concerts are supposed to be fun. But tonight I was watching people who clearly didn’t care that one of the greatest rock and roll bands of our age was up there. There were plenty of other parks where those people could have gone to hang out, see and be seen, put some headphones on if they needed some music. Why would you want to pay money but not pay attention? I kind of hoped Jeff Tweedy would have one of his infamous hissy fits and tell people to be quiet:
Not that the talking tonight was that distracting…it was more what I saw versus what I heard. The sound was really great for an outdoor venue. I guess for me, Wilco is such a dynamic band that I can’t imagine not listening to the words or watching Nels Cline play the guitar. But I know that other people just want to get stoned. To each their own.
Interesting enough, tonight I was Googling trying to figure out when I saw Wilco the first time. It was at the Newport Folk Festival in Raleigh, and they were doing songs from “Mermaid Avenue.” I remember really liking them and my dad buying that CD almost right after the show. But I had no concept of who they were as a band at that time, and I can still remember the Conan O’Brien where Winona Ryder held up “Summerteeth” and talked about them.
Anyways. The reason I bring this up is that according to Google, the date I saw them in Raleigh was 8/15/98. So it was ALMOST nine years to the day that I saw them again. I think that’s kind of neat. Other people at that concert included Lyle Lovett, Nanci Griffith (with special guest star Darius Rucker), Lucinda Williams, Joan Baez, and Dar Williams. That was a nice day.
They played outside at Marymoor Park, which is in Redmond, which is a suburb of Seattle, which seemed kind of weird to me. Wilco in the suburbs? It was a really nice outdoor venue, but Marymoor is the kind of place where you can bring a picnic and lounge about and whatnot, and while that sounds really nice, and I certainly enjoyed my picnic, but I did have some concerns about this kind of place. I think atmospheres like that can make people forget that they’re there to see a concert. They just treat the show as background music for their picnic.
I think there are some cases where it should be really hard to see an artist. Like maybe you have to take a test to prove you like them, or you have to endure miserable conditions to get to the show, because being able to weather the conditions proves that you understand what a concert and music is all about. I would hope that these conditions would prevent people from doing things like bringing babies and talking while someone else is singing.
I don’t want to sound like I have a stick up my butt. Concerts are supposed to be fun. But tonight I was watching people who clearly didn’t care that one of the greatest rock and roll bands of our age was up there. There were plenty of other parks where those people could have gone to hang out, see and be seen, put some headphones on if they needed some music. Why would you want to pay money but not pay attention? I kind of hoped Jeff Tweedy would have one of his infamous hissy fits and tell people to be quiet:
Not that the talking tonight was that distracting…it was more what I saw versus what I heard. The sound was really great for an outdoor venue. I guess for me, Wilco is such a dynamic band that I can’t imagine not listening to the words or watching Nels Cline play the guitar. But I know that other people just want to get stoned. To each their own.
Interesting enough, tonight I was Googling trying to figure out when I saw Wilco the first time. It was at the Newport Folk Festival in Raleigh, and they were doing songs from “Mermaid Avenue.” I remember really liking them and my dad buying that CD almost right after the show. But I had no concept of who they were as a band at that time, and I can still remember the Conan O’Brien where Winona Ryder held up “Summerteeth” and talked about them.
Anyways. The reason I bring this up is that according to Google, the date I saw them in Raleigh was 8/15/98. So it was ALMOST nine years to the day that I saw them again. I think that’s kind of neat. Other people at that concert included Lyle Lovett, Nanci Griffith (with special guest star Darius Rucker), Lucinda Williams, Joan Baez, and Dar Williams. That was a nice day.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Book #25: The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing
The book: The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank
What is this book about: This book is about Jane Rosenal at different stages of her life, and her search for love and happiness.
Why did I read this book: After reading so many memoirs/nonfiction with narrators that annoyed me with their self-absorption, I was really hungering to read some fiction, so that if the character was self-absorbed, I could write it off to that.
Also, I hear it's going to be a movie, and I like to read books before they become movies. It's actually going to be 2 movies...one with Sarah Michelle Geller based on two of the stories, and one directed by Francis Ford Coppola based on another story.
What did I think of this book: I really loved that it was a bunch of interlocking short stories, although the reviewers on Amazon sure didn't. It's a really entertaining and quick read, which I appreciated, and I thought it well captured the elements of light and dark in everyone's life. The title is humorous. It refers to hunting for guys and reeling them in, if anyone was wondering.
I also liked that Jane never took the easy way out (a recurring theme, as it used to be her dad's motto). Too many times she could have easily just gotten married and not have to worry about anything anymore, but she kept going. She's a trooper.
What was my favorite part of this book: There were many good lines and hits-too-close-to-home truths; this one pops into my mind, probably because it was near the end of the book and sometimes I have a bad memory for the beginning of books when I'm at the end of books:
"I once heard someone describe jealousy as ice water coursing through your veins, but in mine it's more like vomit" (271).
I mean, if you find that line amusing, then you'd like this book. If you don't, you won't.
What did I learn from this book: Men are so crazy! So are women!
What grade do I give this book: A-
What is this book about: This book is about Jane Rosenal at different stages of her life, and her search for love and happiness.
Why did I read this book: After reading so many memoirs/nonfiction with narrators that annoyed me with their self-absorption, I was really hungering to read some fiction, so that if the character was self-absorbed, I could write it off to that.
Also, I hear it's going to be a movie, and I like to read books before they become movies. It's actually going to be 2 movies...one with Sarah Michelle Geller based on two of the stories, and one directed by Francis Ford Coppola based on another story.
What did I think of this book: I really loved that it was a bunch of interlocking short stories, although the reviewers on Amazon sure didn't. It's a really entertaining and quick read, which I appreciated, and I thought it well captured the elements of light and dark in everyone's life. The title is humorous. It refers to hunting for guys and reeling them in, if anyone was wondering.
I also liked that Jane never took the easy way out (a recurring theme, as it used to be her dad's motto). Too many times she could have easily just gotten married and not have to worry about anything anymore, but she kept going. She's a trooper.
What was my favorite part of this book: There were many good lines and hits-too-close-to-home truths; this one pops into my mind, probably because it was near the end of the book and sometimes I have a bad memory for the beginning of books when I'm at the end of books:
"I once heard someone describe jealousy as ice water coursing through your veins, but in mine it's more like vomit" (271).
I mean, if you find that line amusing, then you'd like this book. If you don't, you won't.
What did I learn from this book: Men are so crazy! So are women!
What grade do I give this book: A-
Sunday, August 19, 2007
that new car smell
Well, today, I somehow bought a new car. I was not really expecting to buy today, but I had a salesman that I really liked, and I felt good about the deal. I felt a little bad that I didn't finish reading "Car Buying for Dummies" (see yesterday), but what's done is done.
It is a really pretty car, a Camry, and I am pretty convinced that it will get stolen or be affected by some sort of act of God tonight. It's pretty much too nice to ever drive. I have to pay for it forever. Other than that, I feel really great about it.
So, now, to say goodbye to my old car, which is sleeping tonight in its new home at the dealership, I present, A Requiem for the Old Avalon....
The Avalon and I came together in the summer before my senior year of college. I didn't want a new car, but unfortunately my younger brother crashed my old Camry while I was studying abroad. Everyone told me that he was lucky to be alive, but I was not happy about losing my old faithful car. Dad and I went down to South Carolina to car-shop (car shopping is about the only thing that South Carolina is good for). We found this Avalon, a '96 with incredibly low mileage, and I think I had a mini-nervous breakdown but decided to go for it. The car had just come on the lot the day before, so we were taking a risk, but Dad haggled to a price that was good (I remember being mortified).
Soon after buying the car, I discovered that it smoked every time I started it. Something with the valves, and people told me it would be too expensive to fix so I've been dealing with that for the last four years. Off the Avalon went to college (it still has the parking sticker from the Emory garage). I don't think anything too notable happened to it there.
When I went to Seattle, I went by myself, and my parents shipped the car out to me later. That was cheaper than driving it and paying for hotels and gas and the like. My old apartment had a garage and pretty soon after the car arrived, I hit the side of the garage and knocked the drivers side mirror off. I think that's where one of my first paychecks went.
In 2005, I went to Spokane, and on the way back, this giant rock hit my windshield and cracked it. What a fond way to remember that trip everytime I got in my car
Then I had the enormous ordeal of trying to register the car in Washington. I couldn't find all the forms I needed and I couldn't find any evidence that we'd paid any tax on the car and frankly I'm not quite sure that I swung that legally.
Sometime between November 2005 and the first few months of 2006, we had torrential rains and the car flooded. Maybe six inches of standing water in the trunk. It molded in the interior. The place that I took to get it fixed completely screwed me over and the car has never been the same, particularly in the arena of smell, ever since.
This year, the dealership told me they could fix that smoking-everytime-it-starts thing. Well, they couldn't. And it only took a few months and a lot of money to figure out they couldn't. And the "check engine" light has been on ever since.
I'm sure I'll think of more. What I'm trying to get across in my requiem is, good riddance, you stupid car. I am not going to miss you at all. Me and my new pretty pretty car are going to be so happy without you, provided it does not get stolen tonight.
It is a really pretty car, a Camry, and I am pretty convinced that it will get stolen or be affected by some sort of act of God tonight. It's pretty much too nice to ever drive. I have to pay for it forever. Other than that, I feel really great about it.
So, now, to say goodbye to my old car, which is sleeping tonight in its new home at the dealership, I present, A Requiem for the Old Avalon....
The Avalon and I came together in the summer before my senior year of college. I didn't want a new car, but unfortunately my younger brother crashed my old Camry while I was studying abroad. Everyone told me that he was lucky to be alive, but I was not happy about losing my old faithful car. Dad and I went down to South Carolina to car-shop (car shopping is about the only thing that South Carolina is good for). We found this Avalon, a '96 with incredibly low mileage, and I think I had a mini-nervous breakdown but decided to go for it. The car had just come on the lot the day before, so we were taking a risk, but Dad haggled to a price that was good (I remember being mortified).
Soon after buying the car, I discovered that it smoked every time I started it. Something with the valves, and people told me it would be too expensive to fix so I've been dealing with that for the last four years. Off the Avalon went to college (it still has the parking sticker from the Emory garage). I don't think anything too notable happened to it there.
When I went to Seattle, I went by myself, and my parents shipped the car out to me later. That was cheaper than driving it and paying for hotels and gas and the like. My old apartment had a garage and pretty soon after the car arrived, I hit the side of the garage and knocked the drivers side mirror off. I think that's where one of my first paychecks went.
In 2005, I went to Spokane, and on the way back, this giant rock hit my windshield and cracked it. What a fond way to remember that trip everytime I got in my car
Then I had the enormous ordeal of trying to register the car in Washington. I couldn't find all the forms I needed and I couldn't find any evidence that we'd paid any tax on the car and frankly I'm not quite sure that I swung that legally.
Sometime between November 2005 and the first few months of 2006, we had torrential rains and the car flooded. Maybe six inches of standing water in the trunk. It molded in the interior. The place that I took to get it fixed completely screwed me over and the car has never been the same, particularly in the arena of smell, ever since.
This year, the dealership told me they could fix that smoking-everytime-it-starts thing. Well, they couldn't. And it only took a few months and a lot of money to figure out they couldn't. And the "check engine" light has been on ever since.
I'm sure I'll think of more. What I'm trying to get across in my requiem is, good riddance, you stupid car. I am not going to miss you at all. Me and my new pretty pretty car are going to be so happy without you, provided it does not get stolen tonight.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
stacked crooked
Today I had several events lined up that I thought would provide me hilarious anecdotes for blogging, but they didn't. So I am going to make some up.
Event #1
What really happened: I had to get a bridesmaid's dress altered. I was in and out of there so fast that I couldn't spy on any crazy brides or get any good stories.
What should have happened, for the sake of making my blog interesting: There I was, getting my dress pinned, when in walks a woman in a bridal gown. Her eyes are crazed.
"I heard what you did!" she screams, pointing at me.
"I don't even know you!" I exclaim, as the seamstress backs away slowly.
"You may not know me," the bride said, "but I believe you know my fiance." She picks up a pin cushion and throws it at me. I try to hide in the dressing room, but realize too late that I've allowed myself to be cornered. "I'll ruin your life!" she spits at me.
"Now, let's act calmly," I say, as she picks up a chair and prepares to throw it at me. "Who's your fiance?" She says his name, and I say that I've never heard of anyone really named Donatello in real life. "I promise," I say, and she calms down a little bit. I am a great liar.
"You look great in a bridesmaid's dress," she says. "Do you want to be in my wedding?" I agree to do this, and we go to Starbucks to celebrate our friendship. Now I just have to tell Donatello before he blows my cover!
Event #2
What really happened: After getting my bridesmaid's dress taken care of, I kill some time in Barnes & Noble and read "Car Buying for Dummies." It makes me feel bad, like I will never get a good deal on a car because there's so much I don't know.
What should have happened, for sake of making my blog interesting: The guy next to me, who has been reading comic books, looks over at what I am reading. He tells me that he just bought a 2007 Camry but has decided he doesn't want it. He will sell it to me for $20 because I am so beautiful. I tell him I can't possibly buy a car sight unseen. We go out to take a look at it and it's great. It has a really nice stereo. I offer him $10 (having learned to negotiate from "Car Buying for Dummies"), we settle on $15, and I drive off in a new car.
Event #3
What really happened: I went to a coworker's house for a barbeque/bocce tournament. We drink beer, and play bocce even though it is raining. I am just okay at bocce.
What should have happened, for sake of making my blog interesting: I do awesome bocce ball tricks, like juggling, and I play bocce awesomely. A neighbor, who has been watching from a window, comes over and asks me if I want to travel the world, playing exhibition bocce and teaching clinics for underprivileged children. He will pay me $1 million a year for this. I accept, and we spend the rest of the barbeque working on designs for my personalized line of bocce balls.
Wow, what an awesome day I didn't have!
Event #1
What really happened: I had to get a bridesmaid's dress altered. I was in and out of there so fast that I couldn't spy on any crazy brides or get any good stories.
What should have happened, for the sake of making my blog interesting: There I was, getting my dress pinned, when in walks a woman in a bridal gown. Her eyes are crazed.
"I heard what you did!" she screams, pointing at me.
"I don't even know you!" I exclaim, as the seamstress backs away slowly.
"You may not know me," the bride said, "but I believe you know my fiance." She picks up a pin cushion and throws it at me. I try to hide in the dressing room, but realize too late that I've allowed myself to be cornered. "I'll ruin your life!" she spits at me.
"Now, let's act calmly," I say, as she picks up a chair and prepares to throw it at me. "Who's your fiance?" She says his name, and I say that I've never heard of anyone really named Donatello in real life. "I promise," I say, and she calms down a little bit. I am a great liar.
"You look great in a bridesmaid's dress," she says. "Do you want to be in my wedding?" I agree to do this, and we go to Starbucks to celebrate our friendship. Now I just have to tell Donatello before he blows my cover!
Event #2
What really happened: After getting my bridesmaid's dress taken care of, I kill some time in Barnes & Noble and read "Car Buying for Dummies." It makes me feel bad, like I will never get a good deal on a car because there's so much I don't know.
What should have happened, for sake of making my blog interesting: The guy next to me, who has been reading comic books, looks over at what I am reading. He tells me that he just bought a 2007 Camry but has decided he doesn't want it. He will sell it to me for $20 because I am so beautiful. I tell him I can't possibly buy a car sight unseen. We go out to take a look at it and it's great. It has a really nice stereo. I offer him $10 (having learned to negotiate from "Car Buying for Dummies"), we settle on $15, and I drive off in a new car.
Event #3
What really happened: I went to a coworker's house for a barbeque/bocce tournament. We drink beer, and play bocce even though it is raining. I am just okay at bocce.
What should have happened, for sake of making my blog interesting: I do awesome bocce ball tricks, like juggling, and I play bocce awesomely. A neighbor, who has been watching from a window, comes over and asks me if I want to travel the world, playing exhibition bocce and teaching clinics for underprivileged children. He will pay me $1 million a year for this. I accept, and we spend the rest of the barbeque working on designs for my personalized line of bocce balls.
Wow, what an awesome day I didn't have!
Friday, August 17, 2007
Book #24: The Close
The book: The Close by Chloe Breyer
What is this book about: This book is about a 27-year-old woman’s first year at seminary, preparing for ordination as a priest of the Episcopal Church.
Why did I read this book: I am Episcopalian, a young woman, and I have sometimes thought of going to seminary.
What did I think of this book:
I really liked this book for about the first half of it. In the first few sections, you’re learning about the school and the process just as she is. I found her befuddlement, confusion, and even her faults to be rather comforting. It seemed to say that you don’t have to be perfect to think you’re ready to be a priest, that you can still be evolving as a person and have some selfish desires. She is petty and kind of mean to her husband, but it did seem like she was developing and getting somewhere, learning little lessons, or profoundly explicating some truth about a faith journey or a conversation with God.
But then it seems like she just gave up on everyone and everything that didn’t meet her expectations, and then it was hard to put up with her. Nothing is ever as she wants it to be. Churches aren’t good enough, her classes aren’t good enough, her patients at the hospital where she is a chaplain don’t immediately jump up to be converted.
This chaplaincy…she whines and moans about how seminary is too insular, and then how the church is too insular, and how no one seems to care about the real problems she cares about. Then the church sticks her out in the real world, and she bitches about that too, because she doesn’t get enough credit for what she does. Here’s what she says of the chaplaincy experience:
“Beyond the diversity of its patients and its intimate connection with the squalor of city life, what made Bellevue so much the “world outside” was how little time it had for us students of the church. Since this world appeared to have a low regard for my role—my search for signs of external validation were fruitless—I had to learn to rely on myself to find the value in being a person of God working in a secular place. I had to discover this work and assign it worth, myself.” (page 208)
This speaks to her self-absorption. She is constantly seeking outward signs of success and validation. She gripes about how she’s doesn’t have a professor who could be the answer of a Jeopardy question, while her friends are in heavily endowed graduate school programs. Perhaps it’s meant to be funny, but she takes herself far too seriously.
What also became troubling is that she seemed to have no idea what a priest actually did. She sort of just wanted to teach Bible studies and then give historical background that proved her thesis of what this Bible passage actually meant. I saw very little concern for actually caring about things such as sacraments or ministering to a congregation. Real people just seemed to get in her way and not understand her Bible studies.
Breyer opens the book with the question, why am I doing this? And she never really answers it for the reader, or as far as I can tell, for herself. She goes to seminary to learn, not to be shaped as a person (in fact, she writes about having the realization that she’s supposed to be shaped as a person in her second year), and indeed fights every instance where it seems that she could learn a lesson, if it’s not the lesson she wants to learn.
In some ways, I wonder if I’m being too hard on Breyer. This book could be read as sort of a reassurance that the whole world doesn’t change in a year, and that you can’t make it change that fast. Breyer came from a background where she could create social change pretty quickly, but these anecdotes represent the first time the world has told her “no,” and that is hard and jarring and frustrating.
But even as I write that and give her that credit, it would be easier to accept if she didn’t whine all the time, and act like she’s immensely better than everyone else.
What was my favorite part of this book: I liked when she wrote about things she actually did at seminary, such as her classes and her services and her classmates (the people who actually seemed to understand why they were there). It was when Chloe was off doing things by herself (deciding where to intern, CPE) that she got a little hard to deal with.
What did I learn from this book: I did get a glimpse of what seminary was like. I just wish it had been from someone who seemed to understand and actually like the church.
What grade do I give this book: First half: A- Second half: D
What is this book about: This book is about a 27-year-old woman’s first year at seminary, preparing for ordination as a priest of the Episcopal Church.
Why did I read this book: I am Episcopalian, a young woman, and I have sometimes thought of going to seminary.
What did I think of this book:
I really liked this book for about the first half of it. In the first few sections, you’re learning about the school and the process just as she is. I found her befuddlement, confusion, and even her faults to be rather comforting. It seemed to say that you don’t have to be perfect to think you’re ready to be a priest, that you can still be evolving as a person and have some selfish desires. She is petty and kind of mean to her husband, but it did seem like she was developing and getting somewhere, learning little lessons, or profoundly explicating some truth about a faith journey or a conversation with God.
But then it seems like she just gave up on everyone and everything that didn’t meet her expectations, and then it was hard to put up with her. Nothing is ever as she wants it to be. Churches aren’t good enough, her classes aren’t good enough, her patients at the hospital where she is a chaplain don’t immediately jump up to be converted.
This chaplaincy…she whines and moans about how seminary is too insular, and then how the church is too insular, and how no one seems to care about the real problems she cares about. Then the church sticks her out in the real world, and she bitches about that too, because she doesn’t get enough credit for what she does. Here’s what she says of the chaplaincy experience:
“Beyond the diversity of its patients and its intimate connection with the squalor of city life, what made Bellevue so much the “world outside” was how little time it had for us students of the church. Since this world appeared to have a low regard for my role—my search for signs of external validation were fruitless—I had to learn to rely on myself to find the value in being a person of God working in a secular place. I had to discover this work and assign it worth, myself.” (page 208)
This speaks to her self-absorption. She is constantly seeking outward signs of success and validation. She gripes about how she’s doesn’t have a professor who could be the answer of a Jeopardy question, while her friends are in heavily endowed graduate school programs. Perhaps it’s meant to be funny, but she takes herself far too seriously.
What also became troubling is that she seemed to have no idea what a priest actually did. She sort of just wanted to teach Bible studies and then give historical background that proved her thesis of what this Bible passage actually meant. I saw very little concern for actually caring about things such as sacraments or ministering to a congregation. Real people just seemed to get in her way and not understand her Bible studies.
Breyer opens the book with the question, why am I doing this? And she never really answers it for the reader, or as far as I can tell, for herself. She goes to seminary to learn, not to be shaped as a person (in fact, she writes about having the realization that she’s supposed to be shaped as a person in her second year), and indeed fights every instance where it seems that she could learn a lesson, if it’s not the lesson she wants to learn.
In some ways, I wonder if I’m being too hard on Breyer. This book could be read as sort of a reassurance that the whole world doesn’t change in a year, and that you can’t make it change that fast. Breyer came from a background where she could create social change pretty quickly, but these anecdotes represent the first time the world has told her “no,” and that is hard and jarring and frustrating.
But even as I write that and give her that credit, it would be easier to accept if she didn’t whine all the time, and act like she’s immensely better than everyone else.
What was my favorite part of this book: I liked when she wrote about things she actually did at seminary, such as her classes and her services and her classmates (the people who actually seemed to understand why they were there). It was when Chloe was off doing things by herself (deciding where to intern, CPE) that she got a little hard to deal with.
What did I learn from this book: I did get a glimpse of what seminary was like. I just wish it had been from someone who seemed to understand and actually like the church.
What grade do I give this book: First half: A- Second half: D
scraping the bottom of the barrel
Well, time for another installment of Bryan Adams videos. I don't want to disappoint anyone too much, but these are getting harder and harder to find on YouTube, which is bad news for me, because I'll have to try harder to get interesting things to actually happen to me for blog entries, rather than living vicariously through Bryan.
Do I Have to Say the Words?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=fwuCl7eFzR0
This video starts off pretty promising, zooming in on a foreign language, and crowded streets, and lines like "the world's closing in"...it seems like Bryan is about to make a stunning statement on something like globalization, or language in today's modern world. Hell, he's even wearing a shirt that says "words" on it. But from this promising start, the video becomes some stylized nonsense. Right before the first chorus, Bryan puts on what appears to be a torture device, but we come to figure out through the video, is actually a viewfinder that lets him look through a car window at this girl who just kind of lazes around and lip synchs and wanders, etc. If this video is attempting to really answer the question of, do I have to say the words, then I would say, the answer is no, but you have to take that thing off your head.
Cuts Like a Knife
http://youtube.com/watch?v=MSaBxTMKvcg
In case anyone forgot what the song was called, we see a close-up of a knife...cutting an apple, which is not the most threatening thing that a knife can do, but oh well, Bryan looks pretty sinister anyways. Then he gets a guitar and rocks out, while a mysterious girl undresses. She does symbolic things like hang up a heart locket, which has gotta be one of the things that cuts like a knife. The girl and Bryan never really interact, as I expected them to; in fact, Bryan seems to have more chemistry with the guy in the band who sings the na-na-na's. Finally she's done dressing. It turns out she's going swimming, and that Bryan and the band have been playing in an empty swimming pool all this time. Congratulations if you figured this out before I did, because I was completely thrown for a loop. Total twist ending for me.
Anyways, I'm thinking that they get back together based on several clues--
1-She doesn't die by jumping into the empty swimming pool, but comes back up wet. I can't really explore what else this might mean because it seems too spiritually and emotionally deep for me to fully get into.
2-Bryan gets his knife back
3-She picks up her heart locket
4-It's a pretty good song, I'd get back together for a song like this.
18 Til I Die
http://youtube.com/watch?v=hQHu4Le1mlY
I knew I hated this song before I watched the video. But the video is going to give me nightmares. You're dead to me, Bryan Adams.
Do I Have to Say the Words?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=fwuCl7eFzR0
This video starts off pretty promising, zooming in on a foreign language, and crowded streets, and lines like "the world's closing in"...it seems like Bryan is about to make a stunning statement on something like globalization, or language in today's modern world. Hell, he's even wearing a shirt that says "words" on it. But from this promising start, the video becomes some stylized nonsense. Right before the first chorus, Bryan puts on what appears to be a torture device, but we come to figure out through the video, is actually a viewfinder that lets him look through a car window at this girl who just kind of lazes around and lip synchs and wanders, etc. If this video is attempting to really answer the question of, do I have to say the words, then I would say, the answer is no, but you have to take that thing off your head.
Cuts Like a Knife
http://youtube.com/watch?v=MSaBxTMKvcg
In case anyone forgot what the song was called, we see a close-up of a knife...cutting an apple, which is not the most threatening thing that a knife can do, but oh well, Bryan looks pretty sinister anyways. Then he gets a guitar and rocks out, while a mysterious girl undresses. She does symbolic things like hang up a heart locket, which has gotta be one of the things that cuts like a knife. The girl and Bryan never really interact, as I expected them to; in fact, Bryan seems to have more chemistry with the guy in the band who sings the na-na-na's. Finally she's done dressing. It turns out she's going swimming, and that Bryan and the band have been playing in an empty swimming pool all this time. Congratulations if you figured this out before I did, because I was completely thrown for a loop. Total twist ending for me.
Anyways, I'm thinking that they get back together based on several clues--
1-She doesn't die by jumping into the empty swimming pool, but comes back up wet. I can't really explore what else this might mean because it seems too spiritually and emotionally deep for me to fully get into.
2-Bryan gets his knife back
3-She picks up her heart locket
4-It's a pretty good song, I'd get back together for a song like this.
18 Til I Die
http://youtube.com/watch?v=hQHu4Le1mlY
I knew I hated this song before I watched the video. But the video is going to give me nightmares. You're dead to me, Bryan Adams.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I do not feel good
Possible causes for my current headache, which I would describe as "splitting" (I mean, it's been awhile since I literally thought my head might split in two, but I would say I am about there now):
--the sides of my brain are fighting a civil war, and one side is trying to pull away from the other.
--sinuses
--monsters
--regret for times gone by
--little children who have been given pick-axes are running around in there
--I clench my jaw too much
--someone has made a voodoo doll of me and is sticking all the pins in the head
--I can read Lord Voldemort's mind (ala Harry Potter)
--stress over my job and my life
--my ponytail is too tight
--the angels are bowling in there (although I think that explains thunder)
--accidentally hitting myself over and over with a frying pan while making breakfast this morning (that one's a trick because I don't cook!)
--a gang beating that I do not remember
That's all I got. I was caught in a moral dilemma this evening, because I do not like blogs that complain. But I am also trying to blog every day in August. But I can barely see because of my head. I can only hope that this list will suffice.
--the sides of my brain are fighting a civil war, and one side is trying to pull away from the other.
--sinuses
--monsters
--regret for times gone by
--little children who have been given pick-axes are running around in there
--I clench my jaw too much
--someone has made a voodoo doll of me and is sticking all the pins in the head
--I can read Lord Voldemort's mind (ala Harry Potter)
--stress over my job and my life
--my ponytail is too tight
--the angels are bowling in there (although I think that explains thunder)
--accidentally hitting myself over and over with a frying pan while making breakfast this morning (that one's a trick because I don't cook!)
--a gang beating that I do not remember
That's all I got. I was caught in a moral dilemma this evening, because I do not like blogs that complain. But I am also trying to blog every day in August. But I can barely see because of my head. I can only hope that this list will suffice.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Doogie Howser, M.D.
I wish my blog could be as good as this one:
http://doogiehowsermd.blogspot.com/
But it never will be. First, because Doogie was a genius. Also, because I have a problem being succinct and vague and profound all at the same time. Today I tried to write a Doogie-style entry. This was all I could come up with:
Today I ate two slices of pizza. The toppings were truth, humility, justice, and perseverance. You can never eat too much pizza.
That's all I could come up with. Does it help to know that I actually ate some pizza today?
When I was a kid, it was really baffling to me how Doogie would ever look back and remember what those entries meant. I mean, you look at them now and it's hard enough to tell what in the world the episode might even have been about. I wish the library had the Doogie Howser DVD's so I could watch them at the gym. Today at the gym I watched A Prairie Home Companion, and something sad happened, and I cried a little bit. But I was sweating a lot so it was hard to tell. Wait a tic, is there a Doogie entry in that anecdote?
Exercise made me cry. But then I thought of those who could not exercise and I cried for them. Then I almost fell off the machine. It just goes to show, crying gets you nowhere.
Well, that one's probably more Jack Handey-like.
http://doogiehowsermd.blogspot.com/
But it never will be. First, because Doogie was a genius. Also, because I have a problem being succinct and vague and profound all at the same time. Today I tried to write a Doogie-style entry. This was all I could come up with:
Today I ate two slices of pizza. The toppings were truth, humility, justice, and perseverance. You can never eat too much pizza.
That's all I could come up with. Does it help to know that I actually ate some pizza today?
When I was a kid, it was really baffling to me how Doogie would ever look back and remember what those entries meant. I mean, you look at them now and it's hard enough to tell what in the world the episode might even have been about. I wish the library had the Doogie Howser DVD's so I could watch them at the gym. Today at the gym I watched A Prairie Home Companion, and something sad happened, and I cried a little bit. But I was sweating a lot so it was hard to tell. Wait a tic, is there a Doogie entry in that anecdote?
Exercise made me cry. But then I thought of those who could not exercise and I cried for them. Then I almost fell off the machine. It just goes to show, crying gets you nowhere.
Well, that one's probably more Jack Handey-like.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?
There has been some talk lately in the press about the dangers of 3rd Avenue in Seattle, particularly at the Pike/Pine area. The papers have been talking about a security tape that showed a gang beating up someone at 3rd & Pike, and apparently in the beginning of the clip, you can see a police officer, and then when the beating begins, the officer disappears. So the police have been getting some criticism, and the city as a whole has been getting criticism for the general unsafe nature of that area.
Now, 3rd & Pike happens to be my bus stop on the afternoons that I go to the gym, and I do have to say that it can be an assortment of hooligans, people begging for money, shady looking characters, and people spitting on the sidewalks (I hate it when people do this). I've seen drug deals there, I've had some weird people talk to me, and while I wouldn't say that I feel unsafe a whole lot...well, it's just not my favorite place in the world.
So today three police officers walk through the bus stop with GIGANTIC nightsticks. I don't know, maybe they were regulation size, but they seemed huge. And it was so amazing to see a police presence on that block, in such a real and threatening manner, that I was distracted, stared at them, and completely missed my bus. I had to wait an extra 20 minutes at the stop, during which time the nightsticks disappeared and the unsavory characters reappeared.
So you can see how actual police presence appeared to be at cross-purposes for me today. Really, I would have been safer if I had gotten the early bus, and I would have seen the earlier bus if I hadn't been watching the police patrol the area. Foiled again, police!
But everything happens for a reason, and I guess my reason was that I wouldn't have had anything to blog about today if that hadn't happened.
Now, since it's Monday, I have to go read Time Magazine. I can tell how the rest of the week is going to shape up based on how much of the magazine I get through on Monday night. If I don't get at least halfway through, the week is pretty much shot and that bad boy's gonna start backing up on you, til next thing you know you're reading last month's current events. Or something like that. I can't even take the time to phrase it correctly, I gotta go start reading!
Now, 3rd & Pike happens to be my bus stop on the afternoons that I go to the gym, and I do have to say that it can be an assortment of hooligans, people begging for money, shady looking characters, and people spitting on the sidewalks (I hate it when people do this). I've seen drug deals there, I've had some weird people talk to me, and while I wouldn't say that I feel unsafe a whole lot...well, it's just not my favorite place in the world.
So today three police officers walk through the bus stop with GIGANTIC nightsticks. I don't know, maybe they were regulation size, but they seemed huge. And it was so amazing to see a police presence on that block, in such a real and threatening manner, that I was distracted, stared at them, and completely missed my bus. I had to wait an extra 20 minutes at the stop, during which time the nightsticks disappeared and the unsavory characters reappeared.
So you can see how actual police presence appeared to be at cross-purposes for me today. Really, I would have been safer if I had gotten the early bus, and I would have seen the earlier bus if I hadn't been watching the police patrol the area. Foiled again, police!
But everything happens for a reason, and I guess my reason was that I wouldn't have had anything to blog about today if that hadn't happened.
Now, since it's Monday, I have to go read Time Magazine. I can tell how the rest of the week is going to shape up based on how much of the magazine I get through on Monday night. If I don't get at least halfway through, the week is pretty much shot and that bad boy's gonna start backing up on you, til next thing you know you're reading last month's current events. Or something like that. I can't even take the time to phrase it correctly, I gotta go start reading!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Book #23: Wigfield
The book: Wigfield by Amy Sedaris, Paul Dinello and Stephen Colbert
What is this book about: Russell Hokes has somehow managed to get himself a book contract, and now he's just trying to get to 50,000 words. He stumbles upon the town of Wigfield and interviews its zany residents. Wigfield is in danger of being destroyed if the state tears down the dam.
Why did I read this book: Because those three could read the phone book and it would probably be funny. Lately if I have trouble falling asleep I act out Strangers with Candy episodes in my head.
What did I think of this book: Well, one thing I have to say is that I didn't strictly "read" the book--I checked out both the book and the audio book from the library. The audio is read by the authors and it helps, I think, to have their voices to associate with it. Otherwise my eyes might have glazed over and missed some of the jokes.
It's sometimes funny, and sometimes it's stretched a little thin. Like Russell Hokes, it's sometimes too clear that the authors were having to pad a little bit to get to 50,000 words.
What was my favorite part of this book: My favorite character was probably Julian Childs, as embodied by Paul Dinello---he loves theater, and his ensemble is made up of rabbits. Sometimes he eats one in front of the others to show them who's boss.
What did I learn from this book: Writing a book is hard. Small towns are endangered.
What grade do I give this book: B-
What is this book about: Russell Hokes has somehow managed to get himself a book contract, and now he's just trying to get to 50,000 words. He stumbles upon the town of Wigfield and interviews its zany residents. Wigfield is in danger of being destroyed if the state tears down the dam.
Why did I read this book: Because those three could read the phone book and it would probably be funny. Lately if I have trouble falling asleep I act out Strangers with Candy episodes in my head.
What did I think of this book: Well, one thing I have to say is that I didn't strictly "read" the book--I checked out both the book and the audio book from the library. The audio is read by the authors and it helps, I think, to have their voices to associate with it. Otherwise my eyes might have glazed over and missed some of the jokes.
It's sometimes funny, and sometimes it's stretched a little thin. Like Russell Hokes, it's sometimes too clear that the authors were having to pad a little bit to get to 50,000 words.
What was my favorite part of this book: My favorite character was probably Julian Childs, as embodied by Paul Dinello---he loves theater, and his ensemble is made up of rabbits. Sometimes he eats one in front of the others to show them who's boss.
What did I learn from this book: Writing a book is hard. Small towns are endangered.
What grade do I give this book: B-
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Book #22: Atomic Farmgirl
The book: Atomic Farmgirl by Teri Hein
What is this book about: This book is a memoir of growing up on a farm in Eastern Washington, and how the area was potentially poisoned by the Hanford Nuclear Reservation.
Why did I read this book: Teri Hein is the executive director of 826 Seattle, a great organization that I would volunteer for if they ever called me back. I mean, seriously, every time they e-mail to say they are updating their volunteer list, I write them back. Then they never call. But I digress. I can forgive them, because it’s such a good organization.
Also, I’m reading all my Washington state books right now, and I knew a little about this topic from work.
What did I think of this book: Well, I wanted to really like this book, but it was really hard. The Hanford stuff seemed kind of tacked on to the beginning and the end, or it was sporadically in a chapter or two and then it would disappear. It’s really a memoir about growing up on a farm, which is all well and good, but I was expecting more of the controversy/background regarding Hanford. Also, she seemed to jump all over the place, making it kind of hard just to keep track of who the people were, which made it slightly harder to be upset when they died. She kind of kept repeating herself…I think this book could have been great with a good editor (just peeked at the Amazon reviews for an earlier version of the book and people seem to agree). But for evoking a sense of place and time, this book did it better at times than The Good Rain (last book I read).
What was my favorite part of this book: One of the chapters deals with a neighborhood boy who grew up to become a good farmer in his own right. He had a special friendship with Teri Hein’s father, and seemed like a good, funny guy. Then he died. It was a heartbreaking but beautiful chapter, and fulfilled the promise of what I thought the book was going to be about.
What did I learn from this book: What it’s like to grow up on a farm, and how glad I am that I didn’t grow up on a farm.
What grade do I give this book: C
What is this book about: This book is a memoir of growing up on a farm in Eastern Washington, and how the area was potentially poisoned by the Hanford Nuclear Reservation.
Why did I read this book: Teri Hein is the executive director of 826 Seattle, a great organization that I would volunteer for if they ever called me back. I mean, seriously, every time they e-mail to say they are updating their volunteer list, I write them back. Then they never call. But I digress. I can forgive them, because it’s such a good organization.
Also, I’m reading all my Washington state books right now, and I knew a little about this topic from work.
What did I think of this book: Well, I wanted to really like this book, but it was really hard. The Hanford stuff seemed kind of tacked on to the beginning and the end, or it was sporadically in a chapter or two and then it would disappear. It’s really a memoir about growing up on a farm, which is all well and good, but I was expecting more of the controversy/background regarding Hanford. Also, she seemed to jump all over the place, making it kind of hard just to keep track of who the people were, which made it slightly harder to be upset when they died. She kind of kept repeating herself…I think this book could have been great with a good editor (just peeked at the Amazon reviews for an earlier version of the book and people seem to agree). But for evoking a sense of place and time, this book did it better at times than The Good Rain (last book I read).
What was my favorite part of this book: One of the chapters deals with a neighborhood boy who grew up to become a good farmer in his own right. He had a special friendship with Teri Hein’s father, and seemed like a good, funny guy. Then he died. It was a heartbreaking but beautiful chapter, and fulfilled the promise of what I thought the book was going to be about.
What did I learn from this book: What it’s like to grow up on a farm, and how glad I am that I didn’t grow up on a farm.
What grade do I give this book: C
Friday, August 10, 2007
The people on the bus
Every weekday, between the times of 7:30 and 7:45, I am waiting for the bus to work. I can catch either the 7:32, the 7:37, or the 7:47 (these are approximate times; anyone who's ridden the bus or most any form of public transportation can tell you that it'll get there when it wants to get there) from the stop that's right across the street from my apartment. The bus winds down the east side of Queen Anne hill, by the Seattle Center, and through downtown on Third Avenue. In the mornings, the bus slowly fills with professionals, until we get to Third and the Ride-Free Zone, where it's free game and who knows what or who you'll sit next to. One time I sat next to a girl who had a squirrel in a cage. She said they made nice pets.
Anyways, since I am always on one of three buses, I see the same people over and over. In a perfect world, these people would all be charming and we'd all become friends. Or at least, we could be friendly, since we're all neighbors. In this modern world, though, we mainly avoid eye contact by reading, or avoid the chance of conversation by listening to Ipods. Most people are fairly indistinguishable, so I mainly recognize them as "nice-looking guy who carries a messenger bag" or "well-dressed girl who never reads or listens to music, just sits and stares straight ahead." There is "over-dressed girl who cannot ride a bus for even five minutes without calling someone on her cell phone." There was "chubby woman who always got on with a full two-liter soft drink," but I haven't seen her in awhile. There's "woman with cute baby who doesn't wear wedding ring."
Mainly I read on the bus, so sometimes I worry that these people see me as the girl who takes a whole week to read Time Magazine (sometimes the bus is the only place I have time to read it!) or judge me based on the book I am carrying. I am sure no one cares.
But the point of the entry is that there are a few people I wonder about on the bus more than others:
1. The woman who's gotta be first on the bus, no matter what
This woman gets on at my bus stop. She's probably in her 40's, and to be perfectly frank, is the kind of fat person who looks like their fatness has just made them mean. I picture her living alone, wishing misery on everyone and only having affection for something like a bird or a cat. When she gets to the bus stop, she just stares up the hill, looking for the bus. As soon as she sees it, she goes to the very edge of the sidewalk, and blocks out everyone else so that she can be the first one on. Even if she's the last one to the stop, she'll push her way up there, even though there's sort of an unspoken agreement at bus stops that we load in the order we got there. I've seen her butt in line. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd kick small children out of the way to get on that bus.
The thing I just don't understand about it though, is that the seat she wants is almost always open. Most people go for the forward facing seat, but she wants a sideways seat that's right behind the driver. There's always always always a seat there by the time the bus gets to us. Does she think that we all want that seat? She does get off the bus fairly early, so I can see how that seat is convenient for her, but sometimes I just want to shake her and ask why that seat is so fricking important. It might just be all she has in her life though so I probably shouldn't get too worked up about it.
2. The negligent father
This guy gets on a few stops after me, with a little girl who's somewhere in the range of 3-5 years old (she could be small for her age, or maybe the guy doesn't feed her). The dad can't be any older than like 23 or 24. This guy was definitely forced into adulthood by this kid, and seems to take out his resentment about it on his daughter every day.
Here are some conversations I have heard this guy have:
Stranger making conversation: What a pretty little girl! I bet she's the most important thing in your life!
Superdad: Well, she's up there, but I don't think she's the most important. I don't see it like that. I mean, I gotta take care of me first.
Stranger making conversation: (Falls into awkward silence)
Superdad (to little girl): Why didn't you brush your hair?
Little girl: I left my brush at the apartment.
Superdad: Well that was stupid. You have to start remembering your things. I have enough things to remember without remembering your things.
Another thing this guy does frequently is listen to music even though the little kid is talking to him. Sometimes he'll have the decency to at least take one earbud out to listen to her, but he spends most of the ride mouthing lyrics while the little girl careens around the bus. Another treasured memory is when this girl got on with them, must be a new girlfriend, and she was trying to make conversation with the little girl, thinking this might be the way to this guy's heart (big mistake). The guy was oblivious, then he gave the woman the little girl's snack. "Don't worry," he said. "She just had breakfast."
They get off the bus at Pine, which is fairly crowded, and cross the street. The guy doesn't adjust his steps to help the kid. Instead, she runs after him, reaching up for his hand, while he walks on, listening to his Ipod.
3. The smoker
This guy gets on in the Ride-Free Zone, and always smells like smoke in a very intense way. Like maybe he's been sleeping in a cigarette or something. I dread having to sit next to this guy, but am always interested in his reading material. It's always something obscure and scholarly, or it looks like a pamphlet an anarchist would put together. Today he was reading something in Arabic. He's gotta be in his 70's or 80's. Where does he go? I am thinking maybe to the hospital, but why does he go everyday? Is he just riding the bus around to read? Where does he get all these books? He has a money-is-tight look about him. How many cigarettes do you have to smoke to smell like that?
Anyways, since I am always on one of three buses, I see the same people over and over. In a perfect world, these people would all be charming and we'd all become friends. Or at least, we could be friendly, since we're all neighbors. In this modern world, though, we mainly avoid eye contact by reading, or avoid the chance of conversation by listening to Ipods. Most people are fairly indistinguishable, so I mainly recognize them as "nice-looking guy who carries a messenger bag" or "well-dressed girl who never reads or listens to music, just sits and stares straight ahead." There is "over-dressed girl who cannot ride a bus for even five minutes without calling someone on her cell phone." There was "chubby woman who always got on with a full two-liter soft drink," but I haven't seen her in awhile. There's "woman with cute baby who doesn't wear wedding ring."
Mainly I read on the bus, so sometimes I worry that these people see me as the girl who takes a whole week to read Time Magazine (sometimes the bus is the only place I have time to read it!) or judge me based on the book I am carrying. I am sure no one cares.
But the point of the entry is that there are a few people I wonder about on the bus more than others:
1. The woman who's gotta be first on the bus, no matter what
This woman gets on at my bus stop. She's probably in her 40's, and to be perfectly frank, is the kind of fat person who looks like their fatness has just made them mean. I picture her living alone, wishing misery on everyone and only having affection for something like a bird or a cat. When she gets to the bus stop, she just stares up the hill, looking for the bus. As soon as she sees it, she goes to the very edge of the sidewalk, and blocks out everyone else so that she can be the first one on. Even if she's the last one to the stop, she'll push her way up there, even though there's sort of an unspoken agreement at bus stops that we load in the order we got there. I've seen her butt in line. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd kick small children out of the way to get on that bus.
The thing I just don't understand about it though, is that the seat she wants is almost always open. Most people go for the forward facing seat, but she wants a sideways seat that's right behind the driver. There's always always always a seat there by the time the bus gets to us. Does she think that we all want that seat? She does get off the bus fairly early, so I can see how that seat is convenient for her, but sometimes I just want to shake her and ask why that seat is so fricking important. It might just be all she has in her life though so I probably shouldn't get too worked up about it.
2. The negligent father
This guy gets on a few stops after me, with a little girl who's somewhere in the range of 3-5 years old (she could be small for her age, or maybe the guy doesn't feed her). The dad can't be any older than like 23 or 24. This guy was definitely forced into adulthood by this kid, and seems to take out his resentment about it on his daughter every day.
Here are some conversations I have heard this guy have:
Stranger making conversation: What a pretty little girl! I bet she's the most important thing in your life!
Superdad: Well, she's up there, but I don't think she's the most important. I don't see it like that. I mean, I gotta take care of me first.
Stranger making conversation: (Falls into awkward silence)
Superdad (to little girl): Why didn't you brush your hair?
Little girl: I left my brush at the apartment.
Superdad: Well that was stupid. You have to start remembering your things. I have enough things to remember without remembering your things.
Another thing this guy does frequently is listen to music even though the little kid is talking to him. Sometimes he'll have the decency to at least take one earbud out to listen to her, but he spends most of the ride mouthing lyrics while the little girl careens around the bus. Another treasured memory is when this girl got on with them, must be a new girlfriend, and she was trying to make conversation with the little girl, thinking this might be the way to this guy's heart (big mistake). The guy was oblivious, then he gave the woman the little girl's snack. "Don't worry," he said. "She just had breakfast."
They get off the bus at Pine, which is fairly crowded, and cross the street. The guy doesn't adjust his steps to help the kid. Instead, she runs after him, reaching up for his hand, while he walks on, listening to his Ipod.
3. The smoker
This guy gets on in the Ride-Free Zone, and always smells like smoke in a very intense way. Like maybe he's been sleeping in a cigarette or something. I dread having to sit next to this guy, but am always interested in his reading material. It's always something obscure and scholarly, or it looks like a pamphlet an anarchist would put together. Today he was reading something in Arabic. He's gotta be in his 70's or 80's. Where does he go? I am thinking maybe to the hospital, but why does he go everyday? Is he just riding the bus around to read? Where does he get all these books? He has a money-is-tight look about him. How many cigarettes do you have to smoke to smell like that?
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Molly wanna cracker?
Well, I'm going to take a break from Bryan Adams videos today to talk about something equally important: celebrities and important historical figures that share my name.
For a long time in my life, Molly seemed like kind of a runner's up name. There was this restaurant in Hendersonville, NC when I was little called Molly's, and it was called that because the guy who owned it had two daughters, Wendy and Molly, and he figured Wendy already had a lot of restaurants named after her. So as much as I enjoyed driving by that restaurant, there was a little twinge of sadness that it was just a consolation prize. Also, something I have heard more times than I care to think about is, "I have a dog named Molly!" Apparently a lot of people name their dog Molly. That makes me feel just great. But with a little research, I have developed this list of some other Molly's:
For a long time in my life, Molly seemed like kind of a runner's up name. There was this restaurant in Hendersonville, NC when I was little called Molly's, and it was called that because the guy who owned it had two daughters, Wendy and Molly, and he figured Wendy already had a lot of restaurants named after her. So as much as I enjoyed driving by that restaurant, there was a little twinge of sadness that it was just a consolation prize. Also, something I have heard more times than I care to think about is, "I have a dog named Molly!" Apparently a lot of people name their dog Molly. That makes me feel just great. But with a little research, I have developed this list of some other Molly's:
Molly Pitcher
Who was this Molly? Molly Pitcher was a very brave person who carried water to men on the battlefields during the Revolutionary War.
How is this Molly like me? We're both very heroic, and try to keep well-hydrated.
Molly Ringwald
Who was this Molly? The redheaded star of movies such as Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, and Pretty in Pink.
How is this Molly like me? We're both members of the Brat Pack. We both dated Anthony Michael Hall.
Additional thoughts: I don't really like Molly Ringwald, because she's so whiny and petulant.
Molly McIntire
Who was this Molly? This Molly was the American Girl doll who lived in 1944, during the war. Her dad is off in the war. She had a victory garden. She didn't like turnips and one time couldn't leave the table because of that. She wears eyeglasses. She had a birthday party, she went to camp, and she went to school.
How is this Molly like me? I think we look alike
Additional thoughts: Well, Molly the American Girl doll was okay, but I was really more in the Samantha camp. Samantha had much prettier clothes (Molly's were too plain and modern-looking for me) and a happier narrative. So Samantha was the doll I had. It pained me a little to not support something named Molly when I was a youth, but I still got a kick out of seeing my name everywhere.
Molly Brown
Who was this Molly? One of the survivors of the Titanic, a.k.a The Unsinkable Molly Brown.
How is this Molly like me? Both of us have had our lives converted to popular musicals. There is a 50% chance that Kathy Bates might play me in a movie in the future.
Molly Weasley
Who was this Molly? She is a character in Harry Potter who known to worry and nag her kids a lot. She saws a curse word in Book 7 that is making quite an impact on the internet.
How is this Molly like me? We're both just magical, yet both worry about the impact of dark magic on our lives.
Molly Malone
Who was this Molly? This girl was a fishmonger who would push her wheelbarrow through the narrow streets. She spent much of her time crying "cockles and mussels." Then she died and even her ghost had to do that all the time. Now they sing about her in Ireland a lot and name pubs after her.
How is this Molly like me? I am a great with a wheelbarrow, and I like pubs.
Additional Thoughts: What I wouldn't give to marry someone with the last name "Malone" so that I could be Molly Malone and get free drinks all over the world. Bonus points if this person's name is Sam Malone, like Ted Danson on Cheers.
the Molly Maguires
Who was these Mollys? Hooligan gang members who caused violence and distruction wherever they went.
How is this Molly like me? I would like to think that I do this, metaphorically at least.
Molly Jones
Who was this Molly? The life of Molly Jones was captured by the Beatles in their song "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da". Basically she was a singer in a band, and then she married Desmond Jones. She taught him how life goes on and whatnot. He gave her a ring, a home sweet home, and a couple of kids. She lived happily ever after, doing her pretty face.
How is this Molly like me? I am frequently singing nonsensical syllables and then tacking on a life lesson.
Additional thoughts: Sometimes when I was younger I would lie and tell people that I was named for this song because my parents really liked the Beatles. But really my parents just liked the name. I just wanted some intrigue because everyone else was named after someone meaningful. One time in high school I was supposed to imagine where I was in twenty years so I married myself off to a fictional Desmond Jones.
Miss Molly
Who was this Molly? Good Golly! This is a girl who likes to rock and roll and she sure likes to ball. When she hugs and kisses people, it makes them "ting-a-ling-a-ling"
How is this Molly like me? Probably something related to the ting-a-ling-a-linging? I don't even know what that means.
Red Molly
Who was this Molly? Red Molly is in the famous Richard Thompson song "1952 Vincent Black Lightning". Red Molly likes motorcycles and is left the titular bike after her boyfriend dies.
How is this Molly like me? We both date dangerous men.
Molly Ivins
Who was this Molly? Liberal political commentator from Texas
How is this Molly like me? She wrote sharp and incisive commentary on presidents; I write something kind of resembling commentary on Bryan Adams videos.
Molly Sims
Who was this Molly? Actress/model.
How is this Molly like me? She used to be an Old Navy spokesmodel; I also have gotten checks from Old Navy.
Pacific Molly, Sailfin Molly, Black Molly, etc.
Who are these Molly's: a genus of freshwater fish also known as Poecilia
How are these Molly's like me: Good swimmers
Flogging Molly
Who is this Molly: an Irish punk band
How is this Molly like me: Both great at fiddling and the accordion.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Take me to the movies, Bryan
Here are two Bryan videos from the soundtrack collection (in hindsight, I really should have saved "All for Love" for today. Oh well)
(Everything I Do) I Do It For You
http://youtube.com/watch?v=oOkxI2YtZXw
In this song, Bryan and his team don't get to tell much of a story, the way they do with other videos, because there are so many clips of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Instead, BA and the band play in Sherwood Forest and let Kevin Costner and Alan Rickman do the heavy lifting. Watching this video is a little more fun if you imagine Bryan Adams as Robin Hood. But only a little. Bryan still gets in his trademark walking while singing, along the coast.
Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=3pJoMeEg8cM
Well, one thing you have to know about this video is that everyone wears a mask, like Johnny Depp's character in Don Juan Demarco (the film the song is for), and everything is supposed to look kind of vaguely erotic I guess. The mask makes Bryan Adams look a bit like a kid playing Robin (of Batman and Robin) on Halloween. I do give him a little credit for the early scene where we see the world through his mask vision...I think that shows the proper amount of humor, and then when you see that absolutely everyone is wearing a mask...well, I'd like to think they didn't take it TOO seriously, but I have no proof. I think this song is fairly ponderous and takes itself too seriously, so I don't want to assume they weren't doing the same thing on the video set.
Things are kicked up a notch when Bryan ditches the mask, stands on a table, and belts it with the Spanish guitar. But only for a few seconds. Basically, this is probably my least favorite Bryan Adams song, and if the lyrics are indeed the true measure by which really loving a woman are measured, then I am likely immensely out of luck.
(Everything I Do) I Do It For You
http://youtube.com/watch?v=oOkxI2YtZXw
In this song, Bryan and his team don't get to tell much of a story, the way they do with other videos, because there are so many clips of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. Instead, BA and the band play in Sherwood Forest and let Kevin Costner and Alan Rickman do the heavy lifting. Watching this video is a little more fun if you imagine Bryan Adams as Robin Hood. But only a little. Bryan still gets in his trademark walking while singing, along the coast.
Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=3pJoMeEg8cM
Well, one thing you have to know about this video is that everyone wears a mask, like Johnny Depp's character in Don Juan Demarco (the film the song is for), and everything is supposed to look kind of vaguely erotic I guess. The mask makes Bryan Adams look a bit like a kid playing Robin (of Batman and Robin) on Halloween. I do give him a little credit for the early scene where we see the world through his mask vision...I think that shows the proper amount of humor, and then when you see that absolutely everyone is wearing a mask...well, I'd like to think they didn't take it TOO seriously, but I have no proof. I think this song is fairly ponderous and takes itself too seriously, so I don't want to assume they weren't doing the same thing on the video set.
Things are kicked up a notch when Bryan ditches the mask, stands on a table, and belts it with the Spanish guitar. But only for a few seconds. Basically, this is probably my least favorite Bryan Adams song, and if the lyrics are indeed the true measure by which really loving a woman are measured, then I am likely immensely out of luck.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
When honor's at stake, this vow I will make
More Bryan Adams videos:
This Time
http://youtube.com/watch?v=EfCC8K5q6hw
Another video that shows off Bryan's mastery of walking and singing at the same time. Bryan shows a lot of emotion in this video. Basically this video is three minutes of imagery that seemingly goes nowhere. There are a lot of moments that seem like they're going to start off the story of this video, including the long sequence of checking into a hotel, the motorcycle riding (I particularly like when he rides on the train tracks!), the scene where Bryan picks up his band to sing along with them so that they look like something out of West Side Story. He sings with a lot of emotion to an unseen woman and kicks a radio (this image is repeated later in case you missed how cool it was the first time). But the song's about to end, and there's been no resolution of all these things...that's not like Bryan! Particularly for such a hopeful song, that promises to get her "this time." Well, I don't want to spoil the ending for you, but basically, there was no reason for me to be nervous.
All for Love (with Sting and Rod Stewart)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=h8GWZq1U-LY
This video is different than I remember, but I'm sure there are two versions...I remember a version with clips from The Three Muskateers, and I used to watch closely for any glimpse of Chris O'Donnell, who was one of my first celebrity crushes. It stands to reason though, that these three needed their own version of the video, minus any Hollywood heartthrobs. It's a pretty straightforward video, with the guys singing on a stage, with a very brief glimpse of the guys sharing a meal (I wish we'd seen more of that!)
Mainly as I watched the video, I just tried to imagine what was going on behind the scenes and how the guys related to each other. At first it seems like Sting and Bryan don't really like Rod because he's tardy and seems out of it. As the video goes on, Bryan and Rod definitely get a lot more buddy-buddy: lots of hugs, hanging on to each other, etc. And Sting definitely leaves Bryan hanging on that high-five and just plays his solo instead. Overall they were probably all glad when the day was over. I do wish Bryan had worn something a little more stylish, such as his trademark leather jacket, instead of the pseudo-turtleneck. I mean, Sting's wearing a skirt and he looks more macho. I did some work on Google and couldn't find any behind-the-scenes gossip about this song or video shoot.
This Time
http://youtube.com/watch?v=EfCC8K5q6hw
Another video that shows off Bryan's mastery of walking and singing at the same time. Bryan shows a lot of emotion in this video. Basically this video is three minutes of imagery that seemingly goes nowhere. There are a lot of moments that seem like they're going to start off the story of this video, including the long sequence of checking into a hotel, the motorcycle riding (I particularly like when he rides on the train tracks!), the scene where Bryan picks up his band to sing along with them so that they look like something out of West Side Story. He sings with a lot of emotion to an unseen woman and kicks a radio (this image is repeated later in case you missed how cool it was the first time). But the song's about to end, and there's been no resolution of all these things...that's not like Bryan! Particularly for such a hopeful song, that promises to get her "this time." Well, I don't want to spoil the ending for you, but basically, there was no reason for me to be nervous.
All for Love (with Sting and Rod Stewart)
http://youtube.com/watch?v=h8GWZq1U-LY
This video is different than I remember, but I'm sure there are two versions...I remember a version with clips from The Three Muskateers, and I used to watch closely for any glimpse of Chris O'Donnell, who was one of my first celebrity crushes. It stands to reason though, that these three needed their own version of the video, minus any Hollywood heartthrobs. It's a pretty straightforward video, with the guys singing on a stage, with a very brief glimpse of the guys sharing a meal (I wish we'd seen more of that!)
Mainly as I watched the video, I just tried to imagine what was going on behind the scenes and how the guys related to each other. At first it seems like Sting and Bryan don't really like Rod because he's tardy and seems out of it. As the video goes on, Bryan and Rod definitely get a lot more buddy-buddy: lots of hugs, hanging on to each other, etc. And Sting definitely leaves Bryan hanging on that high-five and just plays his solo instead. Overall they were probably all glad when the day was over. I do wish Bryan had worn something a little more stylish, such as his trademark leather jacket, instead of the pseudo-turtleneck. I mean, Sting's wearing a skirt and he looks more macho. I did some work on Google and couldn't find any behind-the-scenes gossip about this song or video shoot.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Can't Stop This Thing I Started
Well, I'm no dummy, and I can spot a good trend when it comes along, and basically, I will be watching every Bryan Adams video I can find and writing about it here. I'm going to try to do about 2 a day til I run out or til I cease to find them interesting. I won't embed the video every single time, cause the page will take forever to load, but I will provide a YouTube link.
1. Straight from the Heart
http://youtube.com/watch?v=d-OT5kZqc4E
In this video, Bryan masters picture-in-picture before such a thing had probably even been considered by television companies. The four small screens in the corners are a bit distracting, but obviously cutting edge and revolutionary. One small screen matches the big screen, perhaps a statement on the segmented life of a performer...a show, a bus, a new city, etc. This is a video for the fans, as evidenced by the introduction. We see scenes from concerts (why is Bryan wearing that black t-shirt that looks 2 sizes too big? Thank goodness in other scenes he's wearing his trademark leather jacket) and scenes from the road...scenes of America, which seems weird since Bryan is from Canada. We get a great moment of audience participation, where Bryan asks the audience a question that lets them yell out, "straight from the heart!"
This is a song that promises, "you know I'll never go, as long as I know, it's coming straight from the heart," but we know from the video that Bryan goes from town to town, so he is going to go. But it's a song for all fans...he's never go away from performing or writing songs, as long as it's coming straight from, well, you know.
My favorite moment in this video is when Bryan crowd-surfs. Well, he doesn't really surf, but the crowd holds him up all the same. With their love
2. Can't Stop This Thing We Started
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jNeB0ME3hI&NR=1
The main thing you have to know about this video is BRYAN ADAMS RIDES A BULL THAT IS SHAPED LIKE A GUITAR. THE PERSON WHO THOUGHT OF THAT IDEA IS A GENIUS AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT. Other than that, it's a music video that captures what filming with a wind machine and a rotating platform (kinda like a big Bosu ball) will do for you. Frankly, at times, this video made me a little seasick. But it does visually capture not being able to stop this thing that these people started. It is a force of nature that is going to make the earth shake, instruments fly, instruments explode, instruments come back together, people fall down, people speed up/slow down...if that ain't love, I don't know what is.
My favorite moment in this video is I DON'T KNOW IF I MENTIONED IT BUT THERE'S A GIANT GUITAR-SHAPED BULL RIDING MACHINE.
1. Straight from the Heart
http://youtube.com/watch?v=d-OT5kZqc4E
In this video, Bryan masters picture-in-picture before such a thing had probably even been considered by television companies. The four small screens in the corners are a bit distracting, but obviously cutting edge and revolutionary. One small screen matches the big screen, perhaps a statement on the segmented life of a performer...a show, a bus, a new city, etc. This is a video for the fans, as evidenced by the introduction. We see scenes from concerts (why is Bryan wearing that black t-shirt that looks 2 sizes too big? Thank goodness in other scenes he's wearing his trademark leather jacket) and scenes from the road...scenes of America, which seems weird since Bryan is from Canada. We get a great moment of audience participation, where Bryan asks the audience a question that lets them yell out, "straight from the heart!"
This is a song that promises, "you know I'll never go, as long as I know, it's coming straight from the heart," but we know from the video that Bryan goes from town to town, so he is going to go. But it's a song for all fans...he's never go away from performing or writing songs, as long as it's coming straight from, well, you know.
My favorite moment in this video is when Bryan crowd-surfs. Well, he doesn't really surf, but the crowd holds him up all the same. With their love
2. Can't Stop This Thing We Started
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jNeB0ME3hI&NR=1
The main thing you have to know about this video is BRYAN ADAMS RIDES A BULL THAT IS SHAPED LIKE A GUITAR. THE PERSON WHO THOUGHT OF THAT IDEA IS A GENIUS AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT. Other than that, it's a music video that captures what filming with a wind machine and a rotating platform (kinda like a big Bosu ball) will do for you. Frankly, at times, this video made me a little seasick. But it does visually capture not being able to stop this thing that these people started. It is a force of nature that is going to make the earth shake, instruments fly, instruments explode, instruments come back together, people fall down, people speed up/slow down...if that ain't love, I don't know what is.
My favorite moment in this video is I DON'T KNOW IF I MENTIONED IT BUT THERE'S A GIANT GUITAR-SHAPED BULL RIDING MACHINE.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Bryan Adams does it again!
Well, a few months ago I wrote about the miracle that occurred in my life, wherein I heard Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ‘69” twice in ten minutes, which led to a minor obsession with the song and a detailed dissection of the music video. This week at the gym, I happened to hear my second favorite Bryan Adams song, which of course led me to wonder, what secrets did that video hold?
What Bryan Adams has done here in just over four minutes is create a stunning visualization of love and loneliness. Both the song and the video explore people’s search for companionship, and how they sometimes settle for less than they deserve, or how they sometimes have to hold out and fight the lonely fight.
There are two parallel stories in this video—one of the girl with the asshole boyfriend, and one of just Bryan; Bryan singing, dancing, walking, sitting with a dog, etc. At first I thought these stories would intersect, and that Bryan would end up with the girl, but he doesn’t. The girl represents the first kind of person, who is staying with a guy she doesn’t really care about because she’s decided “it ain’t worth fighting for” (“it” being her dignity or self-respect or something…that line is the line when she decides to get back into the asshole’s car). These are the “winners are losers” line…even though they are together, it’s wrong and they’re unhappy. Yet poor Bryan is still alone.
Bryan is the one who knows how badly we need somebody to love—just listen to that raw emotion when he sings, “I need somebody. Yeah what about you?! We all need somebody!” But in this video, he is doomed to loneliness.
A few things to look for---
• One of the main singing scenes is Bryan walking between, like, industrial equipment that towers over him, so you can barely see the sky. He’s trapped inside this world, like he’s trapped in this loneliness
• Watch for the lines that appear over and over—ladders, railroad tracks, he sits on a fence, even the thing that he runs/dances on top of has several decks or something underneath, making lines. These are the lines of connection that bind us to one another, and even though Bryan wishes desperately that his lines went somewhere, they don’t.
There are lots of scenes of Bryan by himself, mournful. One could argue, at around the 1:25 mark, when he throws that rock, that he’s just trying to impact someone, tie his actions to someone, so that he’s not alone anymore. Then there are the scenes where Bryan sings to the dog. Dogs are known for being there and providing companionship even when humans aren’t around. But the dog never even goes over to Bryan. It’s just Bryan singing to the dog, and the dog is unmoved. Bryan is alone.
Then the best setting of the video, when Bryan enters a stadium where the girl is. This is where I thought the girl would run into his arms, but it’s yet another depiction of how alone we can be, even when we’re with someone (like the girl is) or when we’re in big crowds (like Bryan is). Bryan’s the center of attention—he’s on the screen, and he’s on the field, but he’s out there alone. There’s also the question of which Bryan is “real”—as the clips are of different scenes in the video. Who is Bryan, really? I am sure this is a question that a lot of performers must deal with.
He is the performer who creates the sense of connection for others (by starting the wave, or, by writing hit songs such as Summer of 69 and somebody), but at the end of the video, he’s alone in an empty field, with nothing but the echoes of the departed crowd.
The lyrics seems to echo this:
Another night, another lesson learned
It’s the distance keeps us sane
But when the silence leads to sorrow
We do it all again – all again
Bryan knows that it’s better to keep people at a distance, rather than be unhappy in a relationship like that girl, but he won’t stop hungering or searching for that connection.
Now for all the sad motifs in this video, there are quite a few lighthearted BA moments. I like when he jumps over the railroad tracks, when he pulls up the sleeve of his leather jacket kind of weird, and about two and a half minutes in, where he does a few turns in a row. And of course the best moment is when Bryan does a somersault on the football field.
What Bryan Adams has done here in just over four minutes is create a stunning visualization of love and loneliness. Both the song and the video explore people’s search for companionship, and how they sometimes settle for less than they deserve, or how they sometimes have to hold out and fight the lonely fight.
There are two parallel stories in this video—one of the girl with the asshole boyfriend, and one of just Bryan; Bryan singing, dancing, walking, sitting with a dog, etc. At first I thought these stories would intersect, and that Bryan would end up with the girl, but he doesn’t. The girl represents the first kind of person, who is staying with a guy she doesn’t really care about because she’s decided “it ain’t worth fighting for” (“it” being her dignity or self-respect or something…that line is the line when she decides to get back into the asshole’s car). These are the “winners are losers” line…even though they are together, it’s wrong and they’re unhappy. Yet poor Bryan is still alone.
Bryan is the one who knows how badly we need somebody to love—just listen to that raw emotion when he sings, “I need somebody. Yeah what about you?! We all need somebody!” But in this video, he is doomed to loneliness.
A few things to look for---
• One of the main singing scenes is Bryan walking between, like, industrial equipment that towers over him, so you can barely see the sky. He’s trapped inside this world, like he’s trapped in this loneliness
• Watch for the lines that appear over and over—ladders, railroad tracks, he sits on a fence, even the thing that he runs/dances on top of has several decks or something underneath, making lines. These are the lines of connection that bind us to one another, and even though Bryan wishes desperately that his lines went somewhere, they don’t.
There are lots of scenes of Bryan by himself, mournful. One could argue, at around the 1:25 mark, when he throws that rock, that he’s just trying to impact someone, tie his actions to someone, so that he’s not alone anymore. Then there are the scenes where Bryan sings to the dog. Dogs are known for being there and providing companionship even when humans aren’t around. But the dog never even goes over to Bryan. It’s just Bryan singing to the dog, and the dog is unmoved. Bryan is alone.
Then the best setting of the video, when Bryan enters a stadium where the girl is. This is where I thought the girl would run into his arms, but it’s yet another depiction of how alone we can be, even when we’re with someone (like the girl is) or when we’re in big crowds (like Bryan is). Bryan’s the center of attention—he’s on the screen, and he’s on the field, but he’s out there alone. There’s also the question of which Bryan is “real”—as the clips are of different scenes in the video. Who is Bryan, really? I am sure this is a question that a lot of performers must deal with.
He is the performer who creates the sense of connection for others (by starting the wave, or, by writing hit songs such as Summer of 69 and somebody), but at the end of the video, he’s alone in an empty field, with nothing but the echoes of the departed crowd.
The lyrics seems to echo this:
Another night, another lesson learned
It’s the distance keeps us sane
But when the silence leads to sorrow
We do it all again – all again
Bryan knows that it’s better to keep people at a distance, rather than be unhappy in a relationship like that girl, but he won’t stop hungering or searching for that connection.
Now for all the sad motifs in this video, there are quite a few lighthearted BA moments. I like when he jumps over the railroad tracks, when he pulls up the sleeve of his leather jacket kind of weird, and about two and a half minutes in, where he does a few turns in a row. And of course the best moment is when Bryan does a somersault on the football field.
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