status check - Exhausted
background ambiance - Silence
And now for something completely different...I'm tired! Whee!
My flatmates and I wind up pulling a Mystery Science Theater 3000 each time we find ourselves watching "The Bachelorette." While often loathe to admit guilty television pleasures, the quotes from tonight amused me enough to feel the need to record them for all time.
"Yep, we've gotten old. Instead of auditioning for The Real World, we'd sign contracts agreeing to end up married."
"Fabrice's secret? *strong French accent* I'm not the man you thought I was ... *drops accent* I'm just from Nebraska, OK?"
"No, Jerry needs to be in the final two. And lose. Because then we can write me in for the next season of The Bachelor." - OK, guess who made that remark...
*Chanting* "Kiss her...kiss her...kiss her..."
*Chorus* "Aw, BENNNNNNNNN..."
"It's not that I'm a closeted Bachelorette fan. I'm a closeted Anything That Happens To Be On TV fan."
In other news. Virginia Coalition. Nectar's. Tomorrow night. Time to balance all this work with some play and crazy-ass smile-inducing percussion. Be there.
1.31.2005
1.30.2005
Worthwhile weariness
status check - Exhausted
background ambiance - Television
Beyond worn out. But a good kind of tired - the kind that leaves you smiling because you spent two straight days alternating between friends and family. Sure, you're exhausted. But you'd take this fatigue over being lonely any day.
Quick roundup. This weekend brought us back to Higher Ground - this time for Melissa Ferrick. The show marked the second MF show I've attended (albeit the first in ... three years?) and also the second trip to Higher Ground. That both Sister Hazel and Melissa went out of their way to comment on how amazing the Burlington music-loving audiences always are brought a smile to my face.
Note to all cheerleaders. Everywhere. LET THE COTTON-EYED JOE DIE ALREADY. God. My 11-year-old cousin was competing in an youth cheerleading competition, so I played good cousing and attended. If I can remember a cheerleading routine from 1996 (when I wasn't even a cheerleader - basketball, thank you!), it's been around too long.
I'm in a (somewhat uncharacteristic) people-loving mood this evening. My flatmates and I were lucky enough to receive a Julie visit this weekend, and she always brings a refreshing sense of giddy enthusiasm about everything. It's infectious, really. Although already a group pone to laughter, we wind up laughing even more during Julie weekends.
And then, rather than the energy crash that comes late on a Sunday afternoon, we wind up with iced lattes, Chinese food and plum Miso Pretty lip gloss I've been searching for for eons (Hush now - every gal needs to indulge in something frivilous and girly once in awhile). I also received the added grin-prompting bonus of a quick, random email from miles away just to say hi. See? I told you people are fabulous this evening.
Adding to the amusement? The Australian Web-surfer who stumbled across my blog by searching for "I adore Elizabeth Wakefield." The flatmate who surprised me with a perfectly-phrased cell phone call after overhearing my playful conversation with my other flatmate.
Hearing a voice behind me say dreamily, "I think in heaven, there are big whipped cream clouds covered in caramel, and iced latte swimming pools."
I might be weary, but I still have the energy to chuckle.
In other news. I received my pre-ordered copy of Averi's "Drawn to Revolving Doors" on Friday ... thoughts on it to come within the next day or two, as I'd like to give it a few listens first.
background ambiance - Television
Beyond worn out. But a good kind of tired - the kind that leaves you smiling because you spent two straight days alternating between friends and family. Sure, you're exhausted. But you'd take this fatigue over being lonely any day.
Quick roundup. This weekend brought us back to Higher Ground - this time for Melissa Ferrick. The show marked the second MF show I've attended (albeit the first in ... three years?) and also the second trip to Higher Ground. That both Sister Hazel and Melissa went out of their way to comment on how amazing the Burlington music-loving audiences always are brought a smile to my face.
Note to all cheerleaders. Everywhere. LET THE COTTON-EYED JOE DIE ALREADY. God. My 11-year-old cousin was competing in an youth cheerleading competition, so I played good cousing and attended. If I can remember a cheerleading routine from 1996 (when I wasn't even a cheerleader - basketball, thank you!), it's been around too long.
I'm in a (somewhat uncharacteristic) people-loving mood this evening. My flatmates and I were lucky enough to receive a Julie visit this weekend, and she always brings a refreshing sense of giddy enthusiasm about everything. It's infectious, really. Although already a group pone to laughter, we wind up laughing even more during Julie weekends.
And then, rather than the energy crash that comes late on a Sunday afternoon, we wind up with iced lattes, Chinese food and plum Miso Pretty lip gloss I've been searching for for eons (Hush now - every gal needs to indulge in something frivilous and girly once in awhile). I also received the added grin-prompting bonus of a quick, random email from miles away just to say hi. See? I told you people are fabulous this evening.
Adding to the amusement? The Australian Web-surfer who stumbled across my blog by searching for "I adore Elizabeth Wakefield." The flatmate who surprised me with a perfectly-phrased cell phone call after overhearing my playful conversation with my other flatmate.
Hearing a voice behind me say dreamily, "I think in heaven, there are big whipped cream clouds covered in caramel, and iced latte swimming pools."
I might be weary, but I still have the energy to chuckle.
In other news. I received my pre-ordered copy of Averi's "Drawn to Revolving Doors" on Friday ... thoughts on it to come within the next day or two, as I'd like to give it a few listens first.
1.28.2005
Night Writer
status check - Sleep-deprived
background ambiance - Tristan Prettyman, "Love, Love, Love"
Random things stumble through your mind when you've tossed and turned until 3:31 a.m.
I gave up on trying to fall asleep last night (this morning?), turned on the light and reached over to grab my notebook and pen. Figured I'd just write whatever came to mind so I'd get it out of my head and I could finally drift off.
Looking back at the scribbled-over page this morning, I discovered that little things I generally ignore took precedent in my semi-conscious state. It wasn't necessarily what I was thinking, but what I was hearing, feeling, seeing in my contact-less hazy vision. I wrote about the creaks the house made as it settled in for the night (even it was more ready for a few hours' peace than I). The sound of sneakers crushing snow as a late-night wanderer walked past down the street. The slow stretch my muscles felt as I straightened out from my dozing contortions.
I would have much perferred blissfully sleeping through this late-night work session, but if it had to happen, at least it could teach me a lesson. I spend so much time in my writing focusing on people saying or thinking things - I always enjoy what I write when I focus on little things but don't do it nearly as often as I should.
Lesson learned - great. So I'll thank myself by buying myself a big ol' cup of coffee so I can stay awake the day after.
background ambiance - Tristan Prettyman, "Love, Love, Love"
Random things stumble through your mind when you've tossed and turned until 3:31 a.m.
I gave up on trying to fall asleep last night (this morning?), turned on the light and reached over to grab my notebook and pen. Figured I'd just write whatever came to mind so I'd get it out of my head and I could finally drift off.
Looking back at the scribbled-over page this morning, I discovered that little things I generally ignore took precedent in my semi-conscious state. It wasn't necessarily what I was thinking, but what I was hearing, feeling, seeing in my contact-less hazy vision. I wrote about the creaks the house made as it settled in for the night (even it was more ready for a few hours' peace than I). The sound of sneakers crushing snow as a late-night wanderer walked past down the street. The slow stretch my muscles felt as I straightened out from my dozing contortions.
I would have much perferred blissfully sleeping through this late-night work session, but if it had to happen, at least it could teach me a lesson. I spend so much time in my writing focusing on people saying or thinking things - I always enjoy what I write when I focus on little things but don't do it nearly as often as I should.
Lesson learned - great. So I'll thank myself by buying myself a big ol' cup of coffee so I can stay awake the day after.
1.27.2005
Boys of Summer
status check - Pleased
background ambiance - The Postal Service, "Nothing Better"
We interrupt this week's lethargy to gleefully announce that my co-favorite Red Sox players will officially be back for the 2005 season, I've already got tickets for a game in April and my father [updated: my father and i both were] among those selected for the pre-sale tomorrow.
We've got JV. We've got Millar (thank goodness). Fenway will be gorgeous and I can't wait for spring.
background ambiance - The Postal Service, "Nothing Better"
We interrupt this week's lethargy to gleefully announce that my co-favorite Red Sox players will officially be back for the 2005 season, I've already got tickets for a game in April and my father [updated: my father and i both were] among those selected for the pre-sale tomorrow.
We've got JV. We've got Millar (thank goodness). Fenway will be gorgeous and I can't wait for spring.
Feign-free
status check - Meh.
background ambiance - Jason Mraz, "Geek in the Pink"
I often half-wish I was capable of detached indifference. It would be so much easier, I think to myself, if I was able to look at something and not feel anything. I'd be able to be casually aloof, distant, above all of the mess that comes with caring about things or people.
I say half-wish because I was indifferent once. I didn't give a damn about all of the things that I used to care about - those things that I care about again now. I raised indifference to a whole new level, really. I discovered that my all-or-nothing personality trait even applied indifference. If I wasn't going to bother with caring, I was going to go all out.
It wasn't a good scene - I didn't like who I'd become. So I fixed it. And things got better.
I'll take my sensitive self over that cold doppleganger anyday. But it would be nice, sometimes, to find that middle ground. To be fine with unanswered questions, to not think of the past while looking at the present. To not care about how I'm perceived by others. To not think about what effect my perceptions may have.
Or, at least, to be able to feign that indifference.
Unfortunately, however, years of experiences have begun to indicate that I'm never going to be able to feign as well as I want. So, instead, I'm stuck with caring.
Whether others do or not. And whether I like it or not.
background ambiance - Jason Mraz, "Geek in the Pink"
I often half-wish I was capable of detached indifference. It would be so much easier, I think to myself, if I was able to look at something and not feel anything. I'd be able to be casually aloof, distant, above all of the mess that comes with caring about things or people.
I say half-wish because I was indifferent once. I didn't give a damn about all of the things that I used to care about - those things that I care about again now. I raised indifference to a whole new level, really. I discovered that my all-or-nothing personality trait even applied indifference. If I wasn't going to bother with caring, I was going to go all out.
It wasn't a good scene - I didn't like who I'd become. So I fixed it. And things got better.
I'll take my sensitive self over that cold doppleganger anyday. But it would be nice, sometimes, to find that middle ground. To be fine with unanswered questions, to not think of the past while looking at the present. To not care about how I'm perceived by others. To not think about what effect my perceptions may have.
Or, at least, to be able to feign that indifference.
Unfortunately, however, years of experiences have begun to indicate that I'm never going to be able to feign as well as I want. So, instead, I'm stuck with caring.
Whether others do or not. And whether I like it or not.
"Now I'm hunched over a typewriter"
status check - Fine
background ambiance - Bright Eyes, "We Are Nowhere and It's Now"
It's hard to lock yourself into a commmitted relationship with a group of characters and basic plot arc. Most likely why other people don't try writing novels.
And partly why I keep on trying it. No, I haven't had success yet, but I know that if I keep persisting, something will click and work. I'll actually be satisfied with the work.
As for now, however, I'm not. Satisfied, that is. I keep pounding away at it, but everything sounds like drivel. The best writing is that which comes from your experiences ... but what if I'm not satisfied with my experiences thus far?
I was hoping that the novel would prove a welcome diversion this week, as I've been hindered by the listlessness that seems to have come over everyone. Perhaps there is some truth to the concept of a "most depressing day of the year" - perhaps this, the very bottom of the rut between winter and spring, has just been the most depressing week of the year.
We've all spent more time rubbing at knots in our backs than doing enough to put knots there. We've tried to muster up enthusiasm to burn through a few hours of work, but instead aimlessly click on Internet links and check email. Even the IM conversations designed to distract us consist of more ellipses than letters.
I mean, I'm feeling lethargic. I want to feel energized. Yet I'm listening to Bright Eyes.
It is a week just designed not to make sense.
background ambiance - Bright Eyes, "We Are Nowhere and It's Now"
It's hard to lock yourself into a commmitted relationship with a group of characters and basic plot arc. Most likely why other people don't try writing novels.
And partly why I keep on trying it. No, I haven't had success yet, but I know that if I keep persisting, something will click and work. I'll actually be satisfied with the work.
As for now, however, I'm not. Satisfied, that is. I keep pounding away at it, but everything sounds like drivel. The best writing is that which comes from your experiences ... but what if I'm not satisfied with my experiences thus far?
I was hoping that the novel would prove a welcome diversion this week, as I've been hindered by the listlessness that seems to have come over everyone. Perhaps there is some truth to the concept of a "most depressing day of the year" - perhaps this, the very bottom of the rut between winter and spring, has just been the most depressing week of the year.
We've all spent more time rubbing at knots in our backs than doing enough to put knots there. We've tried to muster up enthusiasm to burn through a few hours of work, but instead aimlessly click on Internet links and check email. Even the IM conversations designed to distract us consist of more ellipses than letters.
I mean, I'm feeling lethargic. I want to feel energized. Yet I'm listening to Bright Eyes.
It is a week just designed not to make sense.
1.26.2005
100 Things.
status check - Surprised
background ambiance - Ryan Montbleau, "Variety"
Saw similar lists pop up on several blogs lately, so I thought I'd give it a shot here. I haven't thought about some of these things in ages. Anyway. 100 Facts.
1. I spent a week as a guest artist at the John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts - twice - during college.
2. During one of those weeks, I heard Christine Baranski singing in the next rehearsal room over.
3. I spent a year working on The Hill. I know an ungodly amount of information about the Capitol.
4. Anything tastes better with either ketchup or salsa.
5. I have a weakness for James Dean - and have demonstrated a weakness in the past for those who look like him.
6. I think James Cagney was best young and in black and white.
7. My parents moved us to Vermont when I was five so they could own and run a country store.
8. I was voted "Most Musical" in my high school class.
9. I wore a tiara to my last day of high school.
10. I played college softball. For one year.
11. I was editor of my college newspaper.
12. I met Sydney Pollack and George Plimpton.
13. I've never been a Howard Dean fan.
14. But I've been a longtime Howie Day fan.
15. I interviewed John Mayer and Glenn Phillips about a year and a half before Mayer became a superstar.
16. Mayer played "Babylon" for me during soundcheck.
17. My all-time favorite movies are "Good Morning Vietnam" and "The Lion in Winter."
18. I have a crush on Zach Braff.
19. I organized a benefit concert.
20. I'm determined to see what all the hype is about in San Diego.
21. I don't care who the hell wrote Shakespeare's works, I'm just happy I can read them.
22. My love of Shakespeare was prompted by a "Boy Meets World" episode.
23. I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was young.
24. My first theatrical experience was as an assistant stage manager sophomore year of college.
25. I haven't been treated at a hospital since birth.
26. I have a fabulous, punk, vegan, younger, Bostonian brother.
27. My first real concert was New Kids on the Block. My second, too. My third was Aerosmith.
28. I went to two proms.
29. I've always been a night person.
30. I can't stand the taste of beer.
31. I love to fly.
32. I love to drive.
33. I stare at skylines until they fade away.
34. I thought about being a political science minor.
35. I thought about being a philosophy minor.
36. I wound up a drama minor.
37. Fenway Park is one of my favorite places in the world.
38. I can roll my r's.
39. I danced at an 80s-themed event next to the woman who played the eldest Cosby daughter on television.
40. I heard Daphne Rubin Vega (the original Mimi from "Rent") sing twice and said hi to her at a pub.
41. I was supposed to be born in early- to mid-October.
42. I waited until early November. My mother wasn't amused.
43. I'm ticklish beyond belief.
44. I don't like my laugh.
45. I love to sing harmony.
46. My softball team won the state championship senior year of high school.
47. I graduated high school in a class of 33.
48. I'm addicted to lip gloss/lip balm/lipstick.
49. I started a homemade blog before I knew what blogs were.
50. I never met my mother's father or my father's mother.
51. I looked exactly like another girl in my class in first and second grades.
52. I left Woodstock '99 before the riots
53. I'm two degrees away from Kevin Spacey.
54. The Doors were one of the greatest bands of all time.
55. At a Howie Day/Pat McGee Band show in 2000, I met Jesse Metcalfe, who was then Miguel on "Passions." Now he's John on "Desperate Housewives." He was even more attractive in person.
56. I took satellite AP classes in high school.
57. My least favorite class ever taken was Astronomy.
58. I hate the cold, but love New England.
59. I've never been in a photo booth.
60. I'm half Irish, and part English, Italian and French Canadian.
61. I took German for a language.
62. I was "God" for a semester (stage manager for "A Midsummer Night's Dream").
63. I've won awards for arts criticism.
64. I read an absurd number of Sweet Valley High books growing up. I wanted to be Elizabeth Wakefield.
65. I am startled easily.
66. I hate the taste of vinegar, mustard or mayonnaise.
67. I hate fish - cooked, raw, whatever.
68. I prefer small club concerts to full-blown large affairs.
69. I saw Sharon, Lois, Braham & Elephant when I was younger.
70. I loved the Boston Garden.
71. I attended the Red Sox victory parade.
72. I can't curl my tongue.
73. I took a class called "Literary Seductions."
74. Coffee is lifeblood.
75. I always prefer acoustic.
76. I've reclaimed my love of the color pink and 80s music.
77. I love photography, even if I wuss out and use digital.
78. I adore old theaters.
79. I chatted extensively with an actor from "Office Space."
80. I interviewed Lee Blessing.
81. I have an intellectual crush on Bradley Whitford.
82. I can't make rice. I just can't do it.
83. I microwave like you wouldn't believe.
84. Favorite compliment: "You look just like Donna from "The West Wing."
85. I performed in a murder mystery.
86. I was a member of a college improv troupe.
87. I cried the first time I heard "Gold Dust" live at a Tori show.
88. I still think Chipotle is the most addictive food ever.
89. I have shaky camera hands.
90. I love the ocean.
91. Sunrises are good, sunsets are better.
92. Anything sounds better with a British accent. Even if the accent is fake.
93. I can't drive a stick shift.
94. I read Thomas Hardy's "Jude the Obscure" online - in one sitting - during a last-ditch attempt to better my odds for the AP English exam.
95. I spent a semester DJing on our campus station.
96. People tell me I look like a Becky.
97. I went by Tori briefly freshman year of college.
98. I'll almost always make the drive to a concert.
99. My favorite drinks are: vodka cranberry, malibu and pineapple or amaretto sours.
100. I'm meant to live in Boston.
background ambiance - Ryan Montbleau, "Variety"
Saw similar lists pop up on several blogs lately, so I thought I'd give it a shot here. I haven't thought about some of these things in ages. Anyway. 100 Facts.
1. I spent a week as a guest artist at the John F. Kennedy Center for Performing Arts - twice - during college.
2. During one of those weeks, I heard Christine Baranski singing in the next rehearsal room over.
3. I spent a year working on The Hill. I know an ungodly amount of information about the Capitol.
4. Anything tastes better with either ketchup or salsa.
5. I have a weakness for James Dean - and have demonstrated a weakness in the past for those who look like him.
6. I think James Cagney was best young and in black and white.
7. My parents moved us to Vermont when I was five so they could own and run a country store.
8. I was voted "Most Musical" in my high school class.
9. I wore a tiara to my last day of high school.
10. I played college softball. For one year.
11. I was editor of my college newspaper.
12. I met Sydney Pollack and George Plimpton.
13. I've never been a Howard Dean fan.
14. But I've been a longtime Howie Day fan.
15. I interviewed John Mayer and Glenn Phillips about a year and a half before Mayer became a superstar.
16. Mayer played "Babylon" for me during soundcheck.
17. My all-time favorite movies are "Good Morning Vietnam" and "The Lion in Winter."
18. I have a crush on Zach Braff.
19. I organized a benefit concert.
20. I'm determined to see what all the hype is about in San Diego.
21. I don't care who the hell wrote Shakespeare's works, I'm just happy I can read them.
22. My love of Shakespeare was prompted by a "Boy Meets World" episode.
23. I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was young.
24. My first theatrical experience was as an assistant stage manager sophomore year of college.
25. I haven't been treated at a hospital since birth.
26. I have a fabulous, punk, vegan, younger, Bostonian brother.
27. My first real concert was New Kids on the Block. My second, too. My third was Aerosmith.
28. I went to two proms.
29. I've always been a night person.
30. I can't stand the taste of beer.
31. I love to fly.
32. I love to drive.
33. I stare at skylines until they fade away.
34. I thought about being a political science minor.
35. I thought about being a philosophy minor.
36. I wound up a drama minor.
37. Fenway Park is one of my favorite places in the world.
38. I can roll my r's.
39. I danced at an 80s-themed event next to the woman who played the eldest Cosby daughter on television.
40. I heard Daphne Rubin Vega (the original Mimi from "Rent") sing twice and said hi to her at a pub.
41. I was supposed to be born in early- to mid-October.
42. I waited until early November. My mother wasn't amused.
43. I'm ticklish beyond belief.
44. I don't like my laugh.
45. I love to sing harmony.
46. My softball team won the state championship senior year of high school.
47. I graduated high school in a class of 33.
48. I'm addicted to lip gloss/lip balm/lipstick.
49. I started a homemade blog before I knew what blogs were.
50. I never met my mother's father or my father's mother.
51. I looked exactly like another girl in my class in first and second grades.
52. I left Woodstock '99 before the riots
53. I'm two degrees away from Kevin Spacey.
54. The Doors were one of the greatest bands of all time.
55. At a Howie Day/Pat McGee Band show in 2000, I met Jesse Metcalfe, who was then Miguel on "Passions." Now he's John on "Desperate Housewives." He was even more attractive in person.
56. I took satellite AP classes in high school.
57. My least favorite class ever taken was Astronomy.
58. I hate the cold, but love New England.
59. I've never been in a photo booth.
60. I'm half Irish, and part English, Italian and French Canadian.
61. I took German for a language.
62. I was "God" for a semester (stage manager for "A Midsummer Night's Dream").
63. I've won awards for arts criticism.
64. I read an absurd number of Sweet Valley High books growing up. I wanted to be Elizabeth Wakefield.
65. I am startled easily.
66. I hate the taste of vinegar, mustard or mayonnaise.
67. I hate fish - cooked, raw, whatever.
68. I prefer small club concerts to full-blown large affairs.
69. I saw Sharon, Lois, Braham & Elephant when I was younger.
70. I loved the Boston Garden.
71. I attended the Red Sox victory parade.
72. I can't curl my tongue.
73. I took a class called "Literary Seductions."
74. Coffee is lifeblood.
75. I always prefer acoustic.
76. I've reclaimed my love of the color pink and 80s music.
77. I love photography, even if I wuss out and use digital.
78. I adore old theaters.
79. I chatted extensively with an actor from "Office Space."
80. I interviewed Lee Blessing.
81. I have an intellectual crush on Bradley Whitford.
82. I can't make rice. I just can't do it.
83. I microwave like you wouldn't believe.
84. Favorite compliment: "You look just like Donna from "The West Wing."
85. I performed in a murder mystery.
86. I was a member of a college improv troupe.
87. I cried the first time I heard "Gold Dust" live at a Tori show.
88. I still think Chipotle is the most addictive food ever.
89. I have shaky camera hands.
90. I love the ocean.
91. Sunrises are good, sunsets are better.
92. Anything sounds better with a British accent. Even if the accent is fake.
93. I can't drive a stick shift.
94. I read Thomas Hardy's "Jude the Obscure" online - in one sitting - during a last-ditch attempt to better my odds for the AP English exam.
95. I spent a semester DJing on our campus station.
96. People tell me I look like a Becky.
97. I went by Tori briefly freshman year of college.
98. I'll almost always make the drive to a concert.
99. My favorite drinks are: vodka cranberry, malibu and pineapple or amaretto sours.
100. I'm meant to live in Boston.
It happens.
status check - Bored. Tired.
background ambiance - Ryan Montbleau, "Stretch"
Mmm. Bored. Tired. Sleepy.
One of those days you have to just get through. Part of one of those weeks you have to just get through.
As I walked up Church Street this afternoon (part of a much-needed but quite ineffective coffee break), I was struck by the focused tunnel-vision with which I was traveling. Just get to where I need to go. Get what I need. Turn around. Retrace steps to complete cyclical journey.
I had an urge to do something completely different, something I hadn't done before. Unfortunately, I was on the clock, which meant it wasn't feasible.
I'll be enjoying the company of visitors this weekend. But next weekend? I'm up for an adventure. Perhaps Boston? If so, without the usual haunts - I'd want to see the city from a different angle. Maybe a fresh perspective would do me some good.
background ambiance - Ryan Montbleau, "Stretch"
Mmm. Bored. Tired. Sleepy.
One of those days you have to just get through. Part of one of those weeks you have to just get through.
As I walked up Church Street this afternoon (part of a much-needed but quite ineffective coffee break), I was struck by the focused tunnel-vision with which I was traveling. Just get to where I need to go. Get what I need. Turn around. Retrace steps to complete cyclical journey.
I had an urge to do something completely different, something I hadn't done before. Unfortunately, I was on the clock, which meant it wasn't feasible.
I'll be enjoying the company of visitors this weekend. But next weekend? I'm up for an adventure. Perhaps Boston? If so, without the usual haunts - I'd want to see the city from a different angle. Maybe a fresh perspective would do me some good.
"Take my thoughts for what they're worth"
status check - Slightly tired
background ambiance - Rilo Kiley, "Portions For Foxes"
Slippery, Sister Hazel, slippery...
I walked into the new Higher Ground last night expecting to hear one, maybe two songs I knew included in Sister Hazel's set. I remembered enjoying the singles I heard on the radio back in the 90s, but the band's heydey predated my concert-frequenting ways and I'd never gone out of my way to attend a show.
Surprisingly - and pleasantly so - I found myself singing along to numerous songs performed during the set. Songs I didn't even know Sister Hazel performed - and those I'd completely forgotten that I loved ("Your Winter"). What I'd planned to be an amusing stroll down memory lane wound up being a fun time - if a little heavy on the whole positivity/love yourself concepts.
What can I say? I guess I need at least a little angry angst in my music.
I arrived at the show in time to hear the last song in Graham Colton's set pulse through the doors to the space. "Cigarette," which made me laugh - it being the last song I can clearly remember from the only other time I'd seen GC perform. Upon finding Beth and Chuck inside, I was told that Graham had made reference to the other time the band was in Burlington - and how he didn't remember much other than that they had a good time.
My thoughts exactly.
The new space is nothing at all like the original Higher Ground. You can't even try to compare the two, even though posters from shows gone by are now hanging from the walls in the lobby.
That said, it's a promising new space. Beth remarked (very insightfully) that the new space doesn't have the character of the old HG, but that it's still very new and would most likely develop a sense of that character. I agreed. I'd already accepted that the experience of attending a show at the old space would never be replicated - but I feel good about the possibilities present at the new.
A movie theater converted to a club doesn't have quite the same kitschy charm as a Denny's converted to a club, but it'll work for me.
In other, related news. Sister Hazel's bassist bears a striking resemblance to Kevin Millar.
And, finally, I read my horoscope today and cursed the anonymous astrologer for making me appear too predictable.
background ambiance - Rilo Kiley, "Portions For Foxes"
Slippery, Sister Hazel, slippery...
I walked into the new Higher Ground last night expecting to hear one, maybe two songs I knew included in Sister Hazel's set. I remembered enjoying the singles I heard on the radio back in the 90s, but the band's heydey predated my concert-frequenting ways and I'd never gone out of my way to attend a show.
Surprisingly - and pleasantly so - I found myself singing along to numerous songs performed during the set. Songs I didn't even know Sister Hazel performed - and those I'd completely forgotten that I loved ("Your Winter"). What I'd planned to be an amusing stroll down memory lane wound up being a fun time - if a little heavy on the whole positivity/love yourself concepts.
What can I say? I guess I need at least a little angry angst in my music.
I arrived at the show in time to hear the last song in Graham Colton's set pulse through the doors to the space. "Cigarette," which made me laugh - it being the last song I can clearly remember from the only other time I'd seen GC perform. Upon finding Beth and Chuck inside, I was told that Graham had made reference to the other time the band was in Burlington - and how he didn't remember much other than that they had a good time.
My thoughts exactly.
The new space is nothing at all like the original Higher Ground. You can't even try to compare the two, even though posters from shows gone by are now hanging from the walls in the lobby.
That said, it's a promising new space. Beth remarked (very insightfully) that the new space doesn't have the character of the old HG, but that it's still very new and would most likely develop a sense of that character. I agreed. I'd already accepted that the experience of attending a show at the old space would never be replicated - but I feel good about the possibilities present at the new.
A movie theater converted to a club doesn't have quite the same kitschy charm as a Denny's converted to a club, but it'll work for me.
In other, related news. Sister Hazel's bassist bears a striking resemblance to Kevin Millar.
And, finally, I read my horoscope today and cursed the anonymous astrologer for making me appear too predictable.
1.25.2005
Karma swing?
status check - frustrated
background ambiance - Pete Thurston, "Little Red Corvette" (live)
As I drove home, two cars that had right of way before me stopped and waved for me to proceed. While baffled, I gave my little appreciative wave and drove on.
But why is it that they stop, completely out of their way, for me today? And not just once, but twice? Was my annoyance with the world emoting from my otherwise cheery-looking red vehicle? Did they realize I was so frustrated that I deserved a random act of kindness?
Or was it just that they were clueless to the roads of Burlington?
A mystery for the ages. But, whatever the intent, the gestures did cause a brief smile to cross my face. I'm hoping my I'll-be-there-late-but-ready-to-have-fun appearance at Sister Hazel this evening does the same.
I'm also hoping this horrible self-imposed need to self-edit also passes. That also might help me feel a whole lot better, if only for long enough to pound out a vent and later delete it.
Why do I set myself up for this shit?
background ambiance - Pete Thurston, "Little Red Corvette" (live)
As I drove home, two cars that had right of way before me stopped and waved for me to proceed. While baffled, I gave my little appreciative wave and drove on.
But why is it that they stop, completely out of their way, for me today? And not just once, but twice? Was my annoyance with the world emoting from my otherwise cheery-looking red vehicle? Did they realize I was so frustrated that I deserved a random act of kindness?
Or was it just that they were clueless to the roads of Burlington?
A mystery for the ages. But, whatever the intent, the gestures did cause a brief smile to cross my face. I'm hoping my I'll-be-there-late-but-ready-to-have-fun appearance at Sister Hazel this evening does the same.
I'm also hoping this horrible self-imposed need to self-edit also passes. That also might help me feel a whole lot better, if only for long enough to pound out a vent and later delete it.
Why do I set myself up for this shit?
1.24.2005
Family Ties
status check - Grateful
background ambiance - Tristan Prettyman, "Evaporated"
Thank God my parents decided I shouldn't be on only child.
On this, the most frustrating of days in a good long while, I sit here, about ready to either throw things (with more gusto than the stack of papers I tossed onto my desk) or cry. Then I check the email and discover the appearance of a myspace comment.
"If you weren't my sister, we'd still be awesome friends."
And suddenly, things don't seem quite so unbearable.
background ambiance - Tristan Prettyman, "Evaporated"
Thank God my parents decided I shouldn't be on only child.
On this, the most frustrating of days in a good long while, I sit here, about ready to either throw things (with more gusto than the stack of papers I tossed onto my desk) or cry. Then I check the email and discover the appearance of a myspace comment.
"If you weren't my sister, we'd still be awesome friends."
And suddenly, things don't seem quite so unbearable.
Charleston, anyone?
status check - Amused
background ambiance - Speechwriters LLC, "Blood on the Frets"
This morning has been composed of random comments or observations that make me laugh more than they normally would.
After a humorous discussion yesterday afternoon about the validity of my "alternacoustic" musical preferences, myspace yielded a particularly amusing bit of information. As Butch Walker posted:
we all wanna be "indie" and cool, but we also want a million people to hear our music and have our pictures posted in the nightlife section of Spin (wearing scarves and looking casually interested in being there, although we've been counting the days..). you see, "indie" is just a sound and an asthetic these days.. you can't call yourself "indie" and sign to Sony, Warner, Etc. (like i did.. or countless other artists that consider themselves that), and expect to not be treated as a "pop act". we just need to have more choices of genre, as well as "file under" categories for our musician Myspace profiles.. that's why i will call it "Pretindie Rock", although i am only given the choices "indie", "pop", and "rock" to call myself... i digress....
So, with that in mind, Beth, I maintain that I love an assortment of styles of music, but listen with particular fondness to alernacoustic and pretindie rock. Please note that it's not "pretindy." Thank you.
As I arrived at the job today, shivering beneath several layers of sweater, jacket and scarf, one of my coworkers commented that my hair looked adorable, peeking out from beneath my knit cap like a flapper bob.
I laughed, thinking of another weekend conversation that wound up with me trying to remember those swing dance lessons so I could do the partner version of the Charleston.
I need a flapper dress and some bright red lipstick. Or rather, since it's so bloody cold right now, just the lipstick. Maybe some bathtub-brewed whiskey or something.
There's nothing finer than the Charleston, Charleston.
Lord, how you can shuffle.
Ev'ry step you do leads to something new.
Man, I'm telling you it's a lapazoo.
background ambiance - Speechwriters LLC, "Blood on the Frets"
This morning has been composed of random comments or observations that make me laugh more than they normally would.
After a humorous discussion yesterday afternoon about the validity of my "alternacoustic" musical preferences, myspace yielded a particularly amusing bit of information. As Butch Walker posted:
we all wanna be "indie" and cool, but we also want a million people to hear our music and have our pictures posted in the nightlife section of Spin (wearing scarves and looking casually interested in being there, although we've been counting the days..). you see, "indie" is just a sound and an asthetic these days.. you can't call yourself "indie" and sign to Sony, Warner, Etc. (like i did.. or countless other artists that consider themselves that), and expect to not be treated as a "pop act". we just need to have more choices of genre, as well as "file under" categories for our musician Myspace profiles.. that's why i will call it "Pretindie Rock", although i am only given the choices "indie", "pop", and "rock" to call myself... i digress....
So, with that in mind, Beth, I maintain that I love an assortment of styles of music, but listen with particular fondness to alernacoustic and pretindie rock. Please note that it's not "pretindy." Thank you.
As I arrived at the job today, shivering beneath several layers of sweater, jacket and scarf, one of my coworkers commented that my hair looked adorable, peeking out from beneath my knit cap like a flapper bob.
I laughed, thinking of another weekend conversation that wound up with me trying to remember those swing dance lessons so I could do the partner version of the Charleston.
I need a flapper dress and some bright red lipstick. Or rather, since it's so bloody cold right now, just the lipstick. Maybe some bathtub-brewed whiskey or something.
There's nothing finer than the Charleston, Charleston.
Lord, how you can shuffle.
Ev'ry step you do leads to something new.
Man, I'm telling you it's a lapazoo.
G'night, Johnny
status check - Warm (inside, thank God)
background ambiance - Pete Thurston, "Take You Home"
Anyone who ever begged and pleaded for permission to stay up late to watch "The Tonight Show" as a child had to have felt a wave of sadness upon hearing the news of Johnny Carson's death yesterday.
background ambiance - Pete Thurston, "Take You Home"
Anyone who ever begged and pleaded for permission to stay up late to watch "The Tonight Show" as a child had to have felt a wave of sadness upon hearing the news of Johnny Carson's death yesterday.
1.23.2005
A Thousand Words
Somewhere along the way, the intended "V. gallery of black and white photography" morphed into the "V. gallery of black and white photography, shots of murals painted on brick and out-of-focus neon-bathed concert shots that somehow look really cool when hanging on a wall."
Snowdrifts
status check - Warm
background ambiance - Rilo Kiley, "The Absence of God"
We got off lucky - relatively speaking.
My back thanked the winter gods profusely for sparing us from the brunt of yesterday's New England blizzard. Since it's just been way too cold for any significant snow accumulation, northern Vermont wound up with about two or three inches. Which is nothing compared to the updates I've been receiving from family and friends in Massachusetts. Two feet at least, probably more - which means shoveling or sledding, depending on one's outlook.
Here? I took on the shoveling task, hence the grateful back. The cold has abated slightly - which means I can stand outside for longer than five minutes. Maybe seven and a half minutes now. Good times.
I'm preparing for another cold-bound day with only necessary excursions outside my colorful apartment. I'm going to cook dinner for my flatmates - which obviously shows the cold has seeped into my brain (or into my flatmates', as they enthusiastically agreed to test my culinary skills). Other than that? We've got movies. We've got hot chocolate mix. I've a novel to write - or at least a couple of chapters to get through. It's all good.
Entertainment Weekly includes in its latest issue a Gavin timeline, following his growing popularity over the past 18 months. Hilarious. I almost feel as if I should add my own little timeline - marking when I reviewed his show for the paper, when the Cartman rendition of "I Don't Want To Be" first appeared and other little snickers. I still maintain that he's talented, that there are songs on the album I do enjoy ... he definitely has potential. But ...
In more favorable music news, I'm pleased to realize that, somewhere over the course of the past few days, Rilo Kiley's "More Adventurous" has finally clicked with me. About time! While I picked up the album the day it came out and have been listening to it sporadically ever since, there was just something preventing me from enjoying it as much as "The Execution of All Things" or "Take Offs and Landings." I think it just seemed too catchy - I couldn't take it as seriously as the others. I'm not sure.
Regardless. Now the songs have needled their way into my heart and I realize that the songwriting does show growth and development ... and Jenny, Blake and company have managed to continue their jarring pattern of crafting songs with lyrics that might as well have come out of my brain. There's always something about hearing and processing lyrics that make you pause - not only because they're so aptly phrased, but because it makes you a little sad to realize how true they are. But you also smile because you realize your mind isn't the only to work that way - random as it may be at times.
And I say there's trouble
When everything is fine
The need to destroy things
Creeps up on me every time
Just as love's silhouette appears
I close my eyes and disappear tonight
And, on a final musical tangent before I'm off to shop for ingredients ... the Globe came out with its "Hot Local Music" 2005 feature. Averi's included, which was neat to see - a short blurb, photo and quick Q&A with Chad (note to Globe writers: At least mention the names of the other guys somewhere).
Willy Mason was also included! He won me over last weekend, during his opening slot for Ray at Paradise ... he reminded me a great deal of Pete - which is always a good thing.
Remember, lift the shovel with your legs, not your back!
background ambiance - Rilo Kiley, "The Absence of God"
We got off lucky - relatively speaking.
My back thanked the winter gods profusely for sparing us from the brunt of yesterday's New England blizzard. Since it's just been way too cold for any significant snow accumulation, northern Vermont wound up with about two or three inches. Which is nothing compared to the updates I've been receiving from family and friends in Massachusetts. Two feet at least, probably more - which means shoveling or sledding, depending on one's outlook.
Here? I took on the shoveling task, hence the grateful back. The cold has abated slightly - which means I can stand outside for longer than five minutes. Maybe seven and a half minutes now. Good times.
I'm preparing for another cold-bound day with only necessary excursions outside my colorful apartment. I'm going to cook dinner for my flatmates - which obviously shows the cold has seeped into my brain (or into my flatmates', as they enthusiastically agreed to test my culinary skills). Other than that? We've got movies. We've got hot chocolate mix. I've a novel to write - or at least a couple of chapters to get through. It's all good.
Entertainment Weekly includes in its latest issue a Gavin timeline, following his growing popularity over the past 18 months. Hilarious. I almost feel as if I should add my own little timeline - marking when I reviewed his show for the paper, when the Cartman rendition of "I Don't Want To Be" first appeared and other little snickers. I still maintain that he's talented, that there are songs on the album I do enjoy ... he definitely has potential. But ...
In more favorable music news, I'm pleased to realize that, somewhere over the course of the past few days, Rilo Kiley's "More Adventurous" has finally clicked with me. About time! While I picked up the album the day it came out and have been listening to it sporadically ever since, there was just something preventing me from enjoying it as much as "The Execution of All Things" or "Take Offs and Landings." I think it just seemed too catchy - I couldn't take it as seriously as the others. I'm not sure.
Regardless. Now the songs have needled their way into my heart and I realize that the songwriting does show growth and development ... and Jenny, Blake and company have managed to continue their jarring pattern of crafting songs with lyrics that might as well have come out of my brain. There's always something about hearing and processing lyrics that make you pause - not only because they're so aptly phrased, but because it makes you a little sad to realize how true they are. But you also smile because you realize your mind isn't the only to work that way - random as it may be at times.
And I say there's trouble
When everything is fine
The need to destroy things
Creeps up on me every time
Just as love's silhouette appears
I close my eyes and disappear tonight
And, on a final musical tangent before I'm off to shop for ingredients ... the Globe came out with its "Hot Local Music" 2005 feature. Averi's included, which was neat to see - a short blurb, photo and quick Q&A with Chad (note to Globe writers: At least mention the names of the other guys somewhere).
Willy Mason was also included! He won me over last weekend, during his opening slot for Ray at Paradise ... he reminded me a great deal of Pete - which is always a good thing.
Remember, lift the shovel with your legs, not your back!
1.22.2005
Lake Effect
status check - Thawing
background ambiance - Photo printer, working its magic
The lake looks like a massive vat of dry ice - something out of a horror or sicence fiction movie. I had my first chance to notice the phenomenon yesterday, as my car crested the Main Street hill on my way back to work. The late afternoon sunshine, clouds and lake fog blended together into a crazily glowing mass of haze.
For those as scientifically inept as myself (let's give a hand to Mr. Brown for killing my love of science in high school), a quick explanation. The lake temperate is about 30 degrees. Air temperature peaked at 1 degree today. Cold air + relatively warm air = incredible fog + the appearance of a photo junkie at the waterfront today.
I was able to take about four shots before I realized my hands had gone completely numb. Because I didn't select the best time of day to shoot, the light wasn't cutting through the fog as well as it did yesterday. I wasn't about to wait around for the light to shift, so I cut my loses for the day, figuring I'd have more than enough opportunity to get the shots I want before spring. Damn cold.
While I'm taking Mother Nature's hint and staying in, bundled up, this afternoon, Beth and I braved the early evening freeze to catch Syd's early show at Nectar's last night. I wind up catching a Syd show about every six months, it seems, this being my third since I was introduced to his music on the New Year's Eve before last.
The first set was composed of Syd and Tuck; the second, at Radio Bean, featured Syd, Tuck and a bassist, I believe; last night's show included Syd, Tuck, bassist and a drummer. Good sound, although I was surprised to discover that some of the newer material has a much heavier, almost post-grunge sound to it - not what I'd expected. But I enjoyed it, bobbing my head and singing along to the songs I knew from our perches at the bar. They were having a blast onstage and it was impossible not to chuckle at Syd's banter ("My name is Syd, we're all known collectively as Syd. Because I'm a huge egomaniac"). It was the final set in a three-act show, with Gregory Douglass (he's always good when I see him, I enjoy the sets, but for some reason, his music's never clicked with me and I'm still trying to figure out why) and Throwback (Canadian! Fun! Polka tease!) also performing.
I had to laugh when I realized my healthy curiosity about Canadian television had come back to bite me - I still maintain that a Degrassi castmember's TWIN was there. For those in the N know, she looked just like Ash.
I know, it's sad that I thought of it. But I had to see a couple of episodes after realizing that seemingly everyone my age watched Degrassi at some point when they were growing up. I hadn't - apparently I missed the pre-teen memo. So I admit it - I've seen three episodes of the show on the N Channel (whatever that is) and laughed myself silly. Hell, that's why we named my car DT. Downtown Sasquatch, woo!
If you can't laugh at yourself ...
In other news. It's amazing that it's freezing outside, I'm shivering beneath layers of sweaters, yet so looking forward to the prospect of frozen margaritas.
??? I don't get it either.
Keep warm, kiddos.
***UPDATE: Photos of the lake and my attempt (rather unsuccessful) at photos from the Ray Lamontagne show at Paradise are up on the photo site.***
background ambiance - Photo printer, working its magic
The lake looks like a massive vat of dry ice - something out of a horror or sicence fiction movie. I had my first chance to notice the phenomenon yesterday, as my car crested the Main Street hill on my way back to work. The late afternoon sunshine, clouds and lake fog blended together into a crazily glowing mass of haze.
For those as scientifically inept as myself (let's give a hand to Mr. Brown for killing my love of science in high school), a quick explanation. The lake temperate is about 30 degrees. Air temperature peaked at 1 degree today. Cold air + relatively warm air = incredible fog + the appearance of a photo junkie at the waterfront today.
I was able to take about four shots before I realized my hands had gone completely numb. Because I didn't select the best time of day to shoot, the light wasn't cutting through the fog as well as it did yesterday. I wasn't about to wait around for the light to shift, so I cut my loses for the day, figuring I'd have more than enough opportunity to get the shots I want before spring. Damn cold.
While I'm taking Mother Nature's hint and staying in, bundled up, this afternoon, Beth and I braved the early evening freeze to catch Syd's early show at Nectar's last night. I wind up catching a Syd show about every six months, it seems, this being my third since I was introduced to his music on the New Year's Eve before last.
The first set was composed of Syd and Tuck; the second, at Radio Bean, featured Syd, Tuck and a bassist, I believe; last night's show included Syd, Tuck, bassist and a drummer. Good sound, although I was surprised to discover that some of the newer material has a much heavier, almost post-grunge sound to it - not what I'd expected. But I enjoyed it, bobbing my head and singing along to the songs I knew from our perches at the bar. They were having a blast onstage and it was impossible not to chuckle at Syd's banter ("My name is Syd, we're all known collectively as Syd. Because I'm a huge egomaniac"). It was the final set in a three-act show, with Gregory Douglass (he's always good when I see him, I enjoy the sets, but for some reason, his music's never clicked with me and I'm still trying to figure out why) and Throwback (Canadian! Fun! Polka tease!) also performing.
I had to laugh when I realized my healthy curiosity about Canadian television had come back to bite me - I still maintain that a Degrassi castmember's TWIN was there. For those in the N know, she looked just like Ash.
I know, it's sad that I thought of it. But I had to see a couple of episodes after realizing that seemingly everyone my age watched Degrassi at some point when they were growing up. I hadn't - apparently I missed the pre-teen memo. So I admit it - I've seen three episodes of the show on the N Channel (whatever that is) and laughed myself silly. Hell, that's why we named my car DT. Downtown Sasquatch, woo!
If you can't laugh at yourself ...
In other news. It's amazing that it's freezing outside, I'm shivering beneath layers of sweaters, yet so looking forward to the prospect of frozen margaritas.
??? I don't get it either.
Keep warm, kiddos.
***UPDATE: Photos of the lake and my attempt (rather unsuccessful) at photos from the Ray Lamontagne show at Paradise are up on the photo site.***
1.21.2005
Right.
status check - Reluctant
background ambiance - Ray Lamontagne, "Trouble"
I'm about to go outside for I don't even know how long to try to find people willing to talk to me about something no one really wants to talk about.
The forecasted high for today? Zero.
This is going to SUCK.
That trip to California would be lovely right about now ...
In other news. I hold Elizabeth responsible for the fact that I'm sitting here with Ashlee Simspon music stuck in my head. No amount of Rilo Kiley has been able to drown out "Pieces of Me." Aurgh.
I most certainly hope I was able to enact my revenge ... I hope she can't get the chorus of "Portions For Foxes" out of her head all day.
"There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week ..."
HA!
background ambiance - Ray Lamontagne, "Trouble"
I'm about to go outside for I don't even know how long to try to find people willing to talk to me about something no one really wants to talk about.
The forecasted high for today? Zero.
This is going to SUCK.
That trip to California would be lovely right about now ...
In other news. I hold Elizabeth responsible for the fact that I'm sitting here with Ashlee Simspon music stuck in my head. No amount of Rilo Kiley has been able to drown out "Pieces of Me." Aurgh.
I most certainly hope I was able to enact my revenge ... I hope she can't get the chorus of "Portions For Foxes" out of her head all day.
"There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week ..."
HA!
1.20.2005
Suspended - Take Two
status check - Contemplative
background ambiance - Charlatans UK, "The Blonde Waltz"
Thank you, Blogger, for deleting the post I wrote earlier this afternoon. That was real swell of you.
Anyway. Like anyone else with access to a television during business hours, I've been innundated with coverage of Inaugural Day pomp and circumstance. When I wasn't busy rolling my eyes at the happy frappy Republicans reveling in their success, I found myself staring at the Capitol.
It's funny, realizing just how experience can fracture one's perceptions of a place or, in this case, building. I looked at the dome, at the statue perched on top, the red, white and blue draped on the West Front. A sea of people streched out along the pavillion and and beyond.
The building never fails to look impressive - whether on television, in movies or in person. But it's a different kind of awe inspired in me when I look up at it in person - and I can't figure out which one, if either, renders me more awe-struck.
I find I have to force myself to think about how it looked when I walked through its halls on a regular basis - it doesn't feel like I actually worked there, now that I look back on it in retrospect. Big, grand place - little, normal person. Doesn't equate.
So, as I watched it on television, I started thinking about the little things I found in my travels. The whir of the subway's engine as it traveled from the office building to the Capitol. The faded mustard walls that formed tunnels through "the catacombs," the metal grating on the floors I led constituents over during tours. I used to joke with them that it was the Capitol you don't see on television - as we walked around serving cars and rolled-up carpet, they understood what I meant. The air always smelled a little musty, laced with the faint scent of floor cleaner and sawdust (which always perplexed me).
There is an entrance to the West Front that I passed each time I went to deliver flags - during the later portion of my time in D.C., I would pass through the doorway to look out at the Monument and the Mall. I leaned against the cool wall, concealed from the busloads of school children and tourists gathered on the pavillion to take photographs and stare at the building. They were far below, but I could always see the flash of cameras. I always smiled during my perches at that spot - partly in case there was a zoom on the camera lens, partly because I felt such a sense of pride and astonishment about being there.
My favorite moments of any Capitol ventures, however, were those in which I led tours into the Rotunda. No matter how cool or aloof someone tried to be during the tour, the moment they stepped beneath the dome, eyes widened and heads tilted back at the same angle. I watched their faces with a grin while they stared up at "The Apotheosis of Washington."
I remember the moments so vividly, but now, tinged with time and new experiences, they feel like they happened to someone else.
OK, enough rambling.
background ambiance - Charlatans UK, "The Blonde Waltz"
Thank you, Blogger, for deleting the post I wrote earlier this afternoon. That was real swell of you.
Anyway. Like anyone else with access to a television during business hours, I've been innundated with coverage of Inaugural Day pomp and circumstance. When I wasn't busy rolling my eyes at the happy frappy Republicans reveling in their success, I found myself staring at the Capitol.
It's funny, realizing just how experience can fracture one's perceptions of a place or, in this case, building. I looked at the dome, at the statue perched on top, the red, white and blue draped on the West Front. A sea of people streched out along the pavillion and and beyond.
The building never fails to look impressive - whether on television, in movies or in person. But it's a different kind of awe inspired in me when I look up at it in person - and I can't figure out which one, if either, renders me more awe-struck.
I find I have to force myself to think about how it looked when I walked through its halls on a regular basis - it doesn't feel like I actually worked there, now that I look back on it in retrospect. Big, grand place - little, normal person. Doesn't equate.
So, as I watched it on television, I started thinking about the little things I found in my travels. The whir of the subway's engine as it traveled from the office building to the Capitol. The faded mustard walls that formed tunnels through "the catacombs," the metal grating on the floors I led constituents over during tours. I used to joke with them that it was the Capitol you don't see on television - as we walked around serving cars and rolled-up carpet, they understood what I meant. The air always smelled a little musty, laced with the faint scent of floor cleaner and sawdust (which always perplexed me).
There is an entrance to the West Front that I passed each time I went to deliver flags - during the later portion of my time in D.C., I would pass through the doorway to look out at the Monument and the Mall. I leaned against the cool wall, concealed from the busloads of school children and tourists gathered on the pavillion to take photographs and stare at the building. They were far below, but I could always see the flash of cameras. I always smiled during my perches at that spot - partly in case there was a zoom on the camera lens, partly because I felt such a sense of pride and astonishment about being there.
My favorite moments of any Capitol ventures, however, were those in which I led tours into the Rotunda. No matter how cool or aloof someone tried to be during the tour, the moment they stepped beneath the dome, eyes widened and heads tilted back at the same angle. I watched their faces with a grin while they stared up at "The Apotheosis of Washington."
I remember the moments so vividly, but now, tinged with time and new experiences, they feel like they happened to someone else.
OK, enough rambling.
1.19.2005
HG Love
status check - Groovy
background ambiance - Typical
Sister Hazel, Upright Citizens Brigade, Martin Sexton, Ryan Montbleau Band (on St. Patrick's Day, no less), Catie Curtis ...
Higher Ground, how I've missed thee.
In other news. From the Tides website: "We'll be playing with [Sudden Ease] again soon, along with some other great acts like Averi and Meet the Day."
A Tides/Averi show would be delightful.
background ambiance - Typical
Sister Hazel, Upright Citizens Brigade, Martin Sexton, Ryan Montbleau Band (on St. Patrick's Day, no less), Catie Curtis ...
Higher Ground, how I've missed thee.
In other news. From the Tides website: "We'll be playing with [Sudden Ease] again soon, along with some other great acts like Averi and Meet the Day."
A Tides/Averi show would be delightful.
1.18.2005
California dreamin'
status check - Beyond cold
background ambiance - Typical
Windows fogging on the inside before I even turn up my car's heat. Rearview mirror covered with frost as the temperature gaugue reads minus six degrees. Feeling your face battle between going numb or just hurting a lot. Wanting to run the last twenty feet so you can reach your destination without losing all sense of feeling. Looking into a mirror and seeing bright red splashes of color on a face otherwise ice-cold white.
I can deal with cold. But this isn't cold. This is hellish - and if that makes me a bad New Englander, I can deal with that.
In other news. I discovered today that I have apparent issues reading a calendar properly. The Syd show I've been looking forward to? Not Thursday, but Friday. Not at Metronome, at Nectar's. Still at 6 p.m., though.
At least I know I can keep time. Be there.
background ambiance - Typical
Windows fogging on the inside before I even turn up my car's heat. Rearview mirror covered with frost as the temperature gaugue reads minus six degrees. Feeling your face battle between going numb or just hurting a lot. Wanting to run the last twenty feet so you can reach your destination without losing all sense of feeling. Looking into a mirror and seeing bright red splashes of color on a face otherwise ice-cold white.
I can deal with cold. But this isn't cold. This is hellish - and if that makes me a bad New Englander, I can deal with that.
In other news. I discovered today that I have apparent issues reading a calendar properly. The Syd show I've been looking forward to? Not Thursday, but Friday. Not at Metronome, at Nectar's. Still at 6 p.m., though.
At least I know I can keep time. Be there.
1.17.2005
A room without a door.
status check - Tired
background ambiance - Ani, "Shameless"
i never avert my eyes
i never compromise
so never never mind
the poetry
Every time I hear the opening chords to "Shameless," I want to put aside whatever I'm doing or dealing with, say "fuck it all," rock out and dance. Just because the music is there and I can.
There's something inherently defiant in all of Ani's music, but no song conveys it more succinctly than "Shameless." I love being able to briefly think, "Know what? This is me and that's enough - take it or leave it."
On Friday, I wrote on my myspace site, remarking that it had been an exceptionally random Friday and I'd given up doing anything other than taking it all as it came.
It appears I'll have to continue this practice through the new week. I started off the day with an arched eyebrow and the damn thing has just stayed up there since.
I'm creating a list of things to look forward to, a checklist of high expectations that will be eventually be categorized in the daybook I still need to buy. It's soothing to realize that a seemingly bleak, cold winter is peppered with interesting events coming up - it makes me feel more confident in my ability to battle the snow and ice. I'll conquer winter for yet another year.
Odd that I'm thinking of tomorrows today, during a day in which I've had yesterdays consistently thrown my way.
(Did you actually understand that sentence as you read it? I had to read it several times after writing it to make sure it came even remotely close to making sense. Be kind, this newly dubbed Day Gal is losing energy fast.)
Between looking through my archives and laughing at photographs taken during my college journalistic career, I'm realizing how much one can pack into a few years - whether you're talking about words, images or experiences.
Some good, others not so much. But that's the point, isn't it? To have and remember moments - with the whole idea of learning and growing and, I dare say, maturing from them. That's why you keep on waking up and it's why I keep on writing after I open my eyes.
And, for some inexplainable reason, why I keep on sharing them with you and opening myself up to whatever may come as a result.
background ambiance - Ani, "Shameless"
i never avert my eyes
i never compromise
so never never mind
the poetry
Every time I hear the opening chords to "Shameless," I want to put aside whatever I'm doing or dealing with, say "fuck it all," rock out and dance. Just because the music is there and I can.
There's something inherently defiant in all of Ani's music, but no song conveys it more succinctly than "Shameless." I love being able to briefly think, "Know what? This is me and that's enough - take it or leave it."
On Friday, I wrote on my myspace site, remarking that it had been an exceptionally random Friday and I'd given up doing anything other than taking it all as it came.
It appears I'll have to continue this practice through the new week. I started off the day with an arched eyebrow and the damn thing has just stayed up there since.
I'm creating a list of things to look forward to, a checklist of high expectations that will be eventually be categorized in the daybook I still need to buy. It's soothing to realize that a seemingly bleak, cold winter is peppered with interesting events coming up - it makes me feel more confident in my ability to battle the snow and ice. I'll conquer winter for yet another year.
Odd that I'm thinking of tomorrows today, during a day in which I've had yesterdays consistently thrown my way.
(Did you actually understand that sentence as you read it? I had to read it several times after writing it to make sure it came even remotely close to making sense. Be kind, this newly dubbed Day Gal is losing energy fast.)
Between looking through my archives and laughing at photographs taken during my college journalistic career, I'm realizing how much one can pack into a few years - whether you're talking about words, images or experiences.
Some good, others not so much. But that's the point, isn't it? To have and remember moments - with the whole idea of learning and growing and, I dare say, maturing from them. That's why you keep on waking up and it's why I keep on writing after I open my eyes.
And, for some inexplainable reason, why I keep on sharing them with you and opening myself up to whatever may come as a result.
After the fact
status check - Surprisingly alert
background ambiance - Typical
That I'm saying this today is going to come back and bite me tomorrow, but such is life.
After nearly a year of languidly sleeping in as a night person, I'm awake and - dare I say it - almost peppy for my first day returning to the world of professional mornings and early afternoons. Without coffee, even (for the moment).
It felt like Christmas morning when I awoke, only the presents awaiting were conceptual rather than physical. And my wishlist included evenings free, weeknight performances attended and the semblance of a life.
background ambiance - Typical
That I'm saying this today is going to come back and bite me tomorrow, but such is life.
After nearly a year of languidly sleeping in as a night person, I'm awake and - dare I say it - almost peppy for my first day returning to the world of professional mornings and early afternoons. Without coffee, even (for the moment).
It felt like Christmas morning when I awoke, only the presents awaiting were conceptual rather than physical. And my wishlist included evenings free, weeknight performances attended and the semblance of a life.
V. Advisory
status check - absurdly overtired
background ambiance - silence
Despite what I'm sure is an overabundance of posts available online saying the exact same thing, I feel it is my civic duty to request/beseech/demand anyone within driving distance of a Ray Lamontagne show to get tickets immediately and enjoy the musical spectacle that awaits within the hallowed halls of whatever venue he travels to on this tour.
Seriously. Saturday found E. and myself at Paradise - my favorite of favorite musical spots - staring at the incredibly softspoken man standing on stage unleash a warm, gravelly voice that is even more compelling than "Trouble" suggests.
I'm not one to select favorite concerts from the musical performance experiences I've been able to witness. But if I did, Ray would easily make the V. Top 10 - and I'm pretty confident he'd crack into the Top 5.
Just GO SEE HIM. Now, before those living under a rock decide to find out what all the fuss is about.
background ambiance - silence
Despite what I'm sure is an overabundance of posts available online saying the exact same thing, I feel it is my civic duty to request/beseech/demand anyone within driving distance of a Ray Lamontagne show to get tickets immediately and enjoy the musical spectacle that awaits within the hallowed halls of whatever venue he travels to on this tour.
Seriously. Saturday found E. and myself at Paradise - my favorite of favorite musical spots - staring at the incredibly softspoken man standing on stage unleash a warm, gravelly voice that is even more compelling than "Trouble" suggests.
I'm not one to select favorite concerts from the musical performance experiences I've been able to witness. But if I did, Ray would easily make the V. Top 10 - and I'm pretty confident he'd crack into the Top 5.
Just GO SEE HIM. Now, before those living under a rock decide to find out what all the fuss is about.
1.07.2005
nostaliga of nausea
status check - amused
background ambiance - rilo kiley
i've got this funny thing about calendar dates. once i associate a certain date with a certain event, i never forget it. birthdays of people i haven't seen in years, concerts, random events - i always wind up thinking of them years down the road.
it actually gets pretty annoying. today, for instance. i can't NOT acknowledge the date. i tried, i really did. but i see the calendar and just start chuckling.
when i walked in, i immediately recognized toca from the cbs morning show, but didn't see mraz right away ... i walked around the little club area, searching for a spare seat where i could curl up for a bit--anything. but there was nothing for me to do except stand there and try to not fall over or leave. i tried the standing bit for about five minutes before finally accepting that i was going to lose that little game (and, while i wanted to make an impression on mraz, i didn't want it to be "hey, that's the girl who passed out at my virginia show!"), so i was sensible and left ... i didn't want to, i was cursing myself during my entire walk back to the metro, trying to psych myself up to turn back and go back in. but i was so dizzy and felt so nauseous that i knew going home was the right thing. knowing it was the right thing, however, didn't make it suck any less. and, adding insult to injury, i wasn't able to get one of the live cds because they didn't have the merch table set up when i was getting ready to leave. so i'll have to order it online, i suppose ... but it wasn't a total loss. i got to see mraz, techically. i even got to hear him during soundcheck ...
it doesn't feel like it's only been two years since that first disastrous attempt at attending a marz show - how is it that so much happened in such a short time?
the funny thing about it is that i can still remember getting ready to head over to arlington from my office - i was so excited about getting to finally see this musician i'd heard so much about. i remember sitting at the bar, drinking my amaretto sour and trying to gather up the courage to say hello.
i didn't, as anyone who knows me can recall. instead, i felt ill and went home. whoops.
background ambiance - rilo kiley
i've got this funny thing about calendar dates. once i associate a certain date with a certain event, i never forget it. birthdays of people i haven't seen in years, concerts, random events - i always wind up thinking of them years down the road.
it actually gets pretty annoying. today, for instance. i can't NOT acknowledge the date. i tried, i really did. but i see the calendar and just start chuckling.
when i walked in, i immediately recognized toca from the cbs morning show, but didn't see mraz right away ... i walked around the little club area, searching for a spare seat where i could curl up for a bit--anything. but there was nothing for me to do except stand there and try to not fall over or leave. i tried the standing bit for about five minutes before finally accepting that i was going to lose that little game (and, while i wanted to make an impression on mraz, i didn't want it to be "hey, that's the girl who passed out at my virginia show!"), so i was sensible and left ... i didn't want to, i was cursing myself during my entire walk back to the metro, trying to psych myself up to turn back and go back in. but i was so dizzy and felt so nauseous that i knew going home was the right thing. knowing it was the right thing, however, didn't make it suck any less. and, adding insult to injury, i wasn't able to get one of the live cds because they didn't have the merch table set up when i was getting ready to leave. so i'll have to order it online, i suppose ... but it wasn't a total loss. i got to see mraz, techically. i even got to hear him during soundcheck ...
it doesn't feel like it's only been two years since that first disastrous attempt at attending a marz show - how is it that so much happened in such a short time?
the funny thing about it is that i can still remember getting ready to head over to arlington from my office - i was so excited about getting to finally see this musician i'd heard so much about. i remember sitting at the bar, drinking my amaretto sour and trying to gather up the courage to say hello.
i didn't, as anyone who knows me can recall. instead, i felt ill and went home. whoops.
1.06.2005
ponder this
status check - playfully annoyed
background ambiance - silence
it appears that what i had to say was so wise, so prolific, so moving that it needed to be written twice to really hit home.
so i ask you this: if a minion makes a point about something before the important people, is the point ever really made?
methinks it is not ...
in other news. if you haven't picked up elliott smith's "from a basement on a hill" yet, do yourself a favor and take a listen. absolutely gorgeous and worth your money. this is no devoted-fans-only-need-listen kind of release ala buckley's "sketches."
i think ray sold out the paradise next weekend, which means i waited too long to buy my ticket. if anyone knows of an extra, contact me and i'll love you forever. but regardless, i plan on playing in boston. you, me, photo booth photos and grasshopper. you in?
background ambiance - silence
it appears that what i had to say was so wise, so prolific, so moving that it needed to be written twice to really hit home.
so i ask you this: if a minion makes a point about something before the important people, is the point ever really made?
methinks it is not ...
in other news. if you haven't picked up elliott smith's "from a basement on a hill" yet, do yourself a favor and take a listen. absolutely gorgeous and worth your money. this is no devoted-fans-only-need-listen kind of release ala buckley's "sketches."
i think ray sold out the paradise next weekend, which means i waited too long to buy my ticket. if anyone knows of an extra, contact me and i'll love you forever. but regardless, i plan on playing in boston. you, me, photo booth photos and grasshopper. you in?
decorum
status check - amused
background ambiance - muffled shouts
when i first entered the post-collegiate professional world, everything around me was covered with a glossy sheen. i strode up a cobblestone hill to work each day, clutching a coffee or a copy of the post, staring at the gleaming dome of marble on its pedastol directly in front of me.
i was in a city clearly designed and intended to impress. and impress it most certainly did.
the hallways of my office building had ceilings so high you felt dwarfed and cold marble floors that echoed the click of my shiny high heels. at 8:30 a.m., two days a week (my early days), i took a deep breath, adjusted the volume levels on the tv and opened the door with a inviting, calm smile.
everything was designed to appear polished and impressive - which meant i designed myself accordingly. i was chatty and polite; serious and understanding. i walked the line between being compassionate and practical; i kept the space tidy and the tour pace brisk.
i sat in that office, the first face beyond the front door. god forbid a vistor walk in and hear me curse, see me gesture or appear annoyed. i enjoyed, in some bizarre way, the challenge of seeming put together at all times.
say what you will about my personal life during the later months there - i'll say little beyond what i already have. but no one can deny that i had my game face on during the workday.
the transition to my new (relatively speaking) professional place has been full of unique expereinces, but the decorum shift remains the biggest surprise. i enjoy the fact that "sexy" is jargon and swearing is part of the norm. i roll my eyes and smile when i hear someone shout across the space - and i laugh at the profanity that flows from everyone's mouths from time to time (and most definitely from my own).
in the old space, an unofficial job description was to add to the gloss - to do everything i could to help people and, through that, reflect the positivity of the office. yet in my new, the unofficial job description is to strip that gloss away and get to the core of a situation.
it's been well over a year since making that switch, but the basic shift of fundamentals still catches me from time to time. it makes me smile and feel grateful to have spent time on both sides of the balance.
background ambiance - muffled shouts
when i first entered the post-collegiate professional world, everything around me was covered with a glossy sheen. i strode up a cobblestone hill to work each day, clutching a coffee or a copy of the post, staring at the gleaming dome of marble on its pedastol directly in front of me.
i was in a city clearly designed and intended to impress. and impress it most certainly did.
the hallways of my office building had ceilings so high you felt dwarfed and cold marble floors that echoed the click of my shiny high heels. at 8:30 a.m., two days a week (my early days), i took a deep breath, adjusted the volume levels on the tv and opened the door with a inviting, calm smile.
everything was designed to appear polished and impressive - which meant i designed myself accordingly. i was chatty and polite; serious and understanding. i walked the line between being compassionate and practical; i kept the space tidy and the tour pace brisk.
i sat in that office, the first face beyond the front door. god forbid a vistor walk in and hear me curse, see me gesture or appear annoyed. i enjoyed, in some bizarre way, the challenge of seeming put together at all times.
say what you will about my personal life during the later months there - i'll say little beyond what i already have. but no one can deny that i had my game face on during the workday.
the transition to my new (relatively speaking) professional place has been full of unique expereinces, but the decorum shift remains the biggest surprise. i enjoy the fact that "sexy" is jargon and swearing is part of the norm. i roll my eyes and smile when i hear someone shout across the space - and i laugh at the profanity that flows from everyone's mouths from time to time (and most definitely from my own).
in the old space, an unofficial job description was to add to the gloss - to do everything i could to help people and, through that, reflect the positivity of the office. yet in my new, the unofficial job description is to strip that gloss away and get to the core of a situation.
it's been well over a year since making that switch, but the basic shift of fundamentals still catches me from time to time. it makes me smile and feel grateful to have spent time on both sides of the balance.
get your rally on
status check - recharged
background ambiance - typical
boston-types, lend me your ears.
friday - yes, tomorrow - at noon, head on over to the corner of washington and boylston streets for a "save the gaiety" rally.
despite the frustrating legal decisions in the past several weeks, the gaiety still stands and is the focus on yet another legal battle. the glass slipper petitioned the supreme judicial court on dec. 30 and the court has decided to hear the case. justice francis x. spina is the new man on which theater lovers should place their hopes - arguments will be heard tuesday at 10 a.m. at one beacon.
so a quick update as to where we (we as in anyone interested in what happens to the gaiety - a group of people in which i most certainly include myself) are now: the glass slipper would face seizure by eminent domain should kensington proceed with demolition plans. spina will hear the case tuesday and kensington has agreed to hold on off any demolition (for which they have a permit, thanks to land court judge keith c. long) until spina makes a decision. the glass slipper is scheduled to also appear in court in march, taking kensington and the BRA to task for zoning violations.
meanwhile, there's tomorrow's rally. if there was any way i could possibly be there, i would - i'm frustrated beyond belief at the fact that i'm four hours away from the gaiety. if it was on saturday, i'd make the trip without a second thought. but there's an increase in support for the gaiety - as explained in an article in this week's phoenix. if anyone in my readership attends, i'll be rallying with you in spirit.
------
in other news. i've mostly recovered from my "just kill me now" sickness yesterday, having spent much of my unexpected day off lounging around in a state of general malaise. i'm not a good sickie and i'm certainly not a good sick-day-taker -- damn my parents and my resulting strong work ethic. despite feeling much better today, many of my colleagues thought for sure i'd be wise and take a second day off.
hell no, i replied. much as i enjoyed being able to languish about my flat with my fellow sick-girl, elizabeth (yet another example of coordinated illness because we're odd like that), i watched enough television for the next year. you try going from "mean girls" to "the magdalene sisters," take a break (which includes the statement "believe it or not, i've already seen 'britney's most shocking moments 2004'")and then move on to "the west wing" and "hope floats." you see how much tv you want to watch after that.
i'm almost feeling a little guilty, however, for feeling well today. granted, i'm not ready to run a marathon, but my energy's back and i'm ready to do things. but after taking a day off for illness, i felt like i should look horrible when i came back. properly ill - even if i now feel properly well.
instead, i look pretty good today. thanks to the wonders of makeup, my pale face now looks rosy and ready for whatever comes my way. my newly shorn hair ("shorn" should be read as "chopped to about my chin") looks fun and just mussed enough to make me happy.
the one time in my life i feel guilty for looking good.
in other news. i screwed up, it appears. it looks like ray lamontagne's sold out the paradise - and i waited too long to buy tickets. if anyone has two extras, contact me and you'll be my new best friend (no offense intended for old best friends).
but if the lamontagne show doesn't work out, i'm still planning on a boston trip that weekend. who's coming with me to play in photo booths and enjoy vegetarian treats at grasshopper?
let's do it up.
background ambiance - typical
boston-types, lend me your ears.
friday - yes, tomorrow - at noon, head on over to the corner of washington and boylston streets for a "save the gaiety" rally.
despite the frustrating legal decisions in the past several weeks, the gaiety still stands and is the focus on yet another legal battle. the glass slipper petitioned the supreme judicial court on dec. 30 and the court has decided to hear the case. justice francis x. spina is the new man on which theater lovers should place their hopes - arguments will be heard tuesday at 10 a.m. at one beacon.
so a quick update as to where we (we as in anyone interested in what happens to the gaiety - a group of people in which i most certainly include myself) are now: the glass slipper would face seizure by eminent domain should kensington proceed with demolition plans. spina will hear the case tuesday and kensington has agreed to hold on off any demolition (for which they have a permit, thanks to land court judge keith c. long) until spina makes a decision. the glass slipper is scheduled to also appear in court in march, taking kensington and the BRA to task for zoning violations.
meanwhile, there's tomorrow's rally. if there was any way i could possibly be there, i would - i'm frustrated beyond belief at the fact that i'm four hours away from the gaiety. if it was on saturday, i'd make the trip without a second thought. but there's an increase in support for the gaiety - as explained in an article in this week's phoenix. if anyone in my readership attends, i'll be rallying with you in spirit.
------
in other news. i've mostly recovered from my "just kill me now" sickness yesterday, having spent much of my unexpected day off lounging around in a state of general malaise. i'm not a good sickie and i'm certainly not a good sick-day-taker -- damn my parents and my resulting strong work ethic. despite feeling much better today, many of my colleagues thought for sure i'd be wise and take a second day off.
hell no, i replied. much as i enjoyed being able to languish about my flat with my fellow sick-girl, elizabeth (yet another example of coordinated illness because we're odd like that), i watched enough television for the next year. you try going from "mean girls" to "the magdalene sisters," take a break (which includes the statement "believe it or not, i've already seen 'britney's most shocking moments 2004'")and then move on to "the west wing" and "hope floats." you see how much tv you want to watch after that.
i'm almost feeling a little guilty, however, for feeling well today. granted, i'm not ready to run a marathon, but my energy's back and i'm ready to do things. but after taking a day off for illness, i felt like i should look horrible when i came back. properly ill - even if i now feel properly well.
instead, i look pretty good today. thanks to the wonders of makeup, my pale face now looks rosy and ready for whatever comes my way. my newly shorn hair ("shorn" should be read as "chopped to about my chin") looks fun and just mussed enough to make me happy.
the one time in my life i feel guilty for looking good.
in other news. i screwed up, it appears. it looks like ray lamontagne's sold out the paradise - and i waited too long to buy tickets. if anyone has two extras, contact me and you'll be my new best friend (no offense intended for old best friends).
but if the lamontagne show doesn't work out, i'm still planning on a boston trip that weekend. who's coming with me to play in photo booths and enjoy vegetarian treats at grasshopper?
let's do it up.
1.02.2005
ice, ice baby
status check - good
background ambiance - silence
a storm covered much of the state with a sheet of crackling ice this afternoon and evening. it was deceptive - springing up all of a sudden (at least for those of us who don't live by the weather channel) and slickening the roads, sidewalks and cars within an hour.
as i walked from the parking lot to my office building to go running (part of my pre-new-year's resolution), i had to grip onto the corner of a building to slide myself up and around the sidewalk incline i consider gentle in better weather. i saw a passenger in a car stopped at the red light laugh - i curtseyed after completing the feat.
this woman-versus-nature moment made me feel justified later in the day, as i snickered watching two girls try to walk up a hill - one step forward, three slides back.
background ambiance - silence
a storm covered much of the state with a sheet of crackling ice this afternoon and evening. it was deceptive - springing up all of a sudden (at least for those of us who don't live by the weather channel) and slickening the roads, sidewalks and cars within an hour.
as i walked from the parking lot to my office building to go running (part of my pre-new-year's resolution), i had to grip onto the corner of a building to slide myself up and around the sidewalk incline i consider gentle in better weather. i saw a passenger in a car stopped at the red light laugh - i curtseyed after completing the feat.
this woman-versus-nature moment made me feel justified later in the day, as i snickered watching two girls try to walk up a hill - one step forward, three slides back.
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