My Day

status check - Great
background ambiance - Averi, "When You Gracefully Creep In"

February 2 is My Day.

It was only a matter of time before I officially declared it a personal holiday. For whatever reason, life has consistently sent good things my way on this particular day. Out of all those one will find on a calendar, February 2 has the best track record of ending well - that is, I traditionally end the day with a smile on my face due to some form of special event.

Five years ago, I returned to my townhouse determined to find out about the amazing singer/songwriter I'd seen at the Coffeehouse that evening. All I knew was that he had a hilarious British accent, performed a mean Dave Matthews Band cover and had an amazingly familiar-sounding song called "She Says" that I loved right away. My first Howie Day concert began my shift from my angry-girl Korn and Limp Bizkit phase toward the music I adore today.

Four years ago, I learned that Michelle and I were given a slot on the campus station's radio programming. I remember being thrilled to know precisely when the two of us would be laughing over the airwaves.

Three years ago? The day started during the post-ACTF-competition celebration. I had learned I'd be going back to DC that April, and as February 2 began, I was feeling buzzed and warm as I sat on a stoop in the cold with another ACTF repeat.

Two? Not much to celebrate that year - but I was in the DC mentality at the time.

And one year ago, I started my "full-time full-time" endeavor with this screwy, alternately frustrating and rewarding profession I'm in.

So it's My Day and I'm going to have a grin on my face throughout, dammit. I've earned the right. I mean, we celebrate birthdays - when our mothers really did all the work. We celebrate holidays to remember what others did years, centuries ago.

Shouldn't a Me Day be celebrated as well? It's one of the few opportunities you have to really celebrate what you've accomplished. I think it's all the more important for that very reason.

So I'm in celebratory mode. And ready to see if the extraordinary precedent of an otherwise ordinary day happens to continue.

Indio, anyone?

status check - Impressed
background ambiance - Pete Thurston, "Take You Home"

Consider last year's contemplations a test run.

Coachella, my friends.

Among a whole lot of others: Coldplay, Weezer, Wilco, Keane, Rilo Kiley, Jamie Cullum, Donavon Frankenreiter, Katie Melua, Spoon, Eisley, Bright Eyes, Nine Inch Nails, Prodigy (haha - freshman year flashback), The Arcade Fire, The Dresden Dolls, The Fiery Furnaces, Stereophonics and, included strictly for Beth's amusement/chagrin, Tegan and Sara.

Stare at the list, dears. Start drooling.

zzzzz

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.

.

status check - Exasperated
background ambiance - Averi, "Hide Away"

I hate seemingly pointless drama - all the more so when I feel like I somehow stumbled into it.

It just really shouldn't matter at this point. And it doesn't matter to part of me.

The key word?

Part.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

"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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

A Thousand Words

gallery1
Originally uploaded by alternacoustic.

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!

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.***

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

YIR

status check - a little tired
background ambiance - typical

year in review, compiled during the last tuesday of 2004.

most memorable experience i can't really remember: graham colton's headlining set at metronome, may 10. averi opened, with dennis replacing the out-of-commission michael. it gets fuzzy (hilariously so) once beth and i went to the bar, ordered a round of kamakazi shots and started talking to dennis.

surreal moment 1: on oct. 27, i watched the red sox win the world series in a dining hall at the university of vermont. i was one of three reporters covering burlington's reaction if the sox pulled off the sweep. when foulke recorded the second strike of the final out, each of the 20-odd people in the room groaned - it was so close but we couldn't quite believe they'd pull it off. after the toss to first base, everyone screamed and hugged - i watched the team rush the field and then bolted out the door for the victory celebration on the green. "dirty water" was piped into the night from a dorm window, revelers swarmed the green among the cops in riot gear. twice as many people stood pressed against every window, curious as to what would unfold but afraid to come out. it didn't start to dawn on me that they actually WON until much later that night, but i was able to call my dad and yell, "how 'bout dem red sox?" and hear him cheer.

surreal moment 2: hopping into my car at midnight with my father to drive from burlington to beverly on oct. 30. we arrived at my grandmother's around 4, i tossed and turned until 5:30 - we were at the train station among other baseball fans around 6:30. we stormed the trains and met up with my brother in front of the museum of science, where we stood for several hours on the curb until the duck boat rolling rally approached. any fatigue was forgotten when the motorcade of area police officers approached with flashing lights; the confetti bursts cleared just in time to see johnny damon sticking his head out of the front of the first boat with a grin, wave and flash of the victory sign. the photos taken that day remain among my favorite taken in 2004; i didn't process what i'd seen until the photos came back.*

it had finally sunk in: on dec. 2, bronson arroyo (the one red sox autographed i'd actually sought in 2004) brought the trophy to NoVo. after standing in the snow with beth and chuck for three feet-numbing hours, we enjoyed being there, but acknowledged that the disbelief had dissipated at some point during the stretch of november. but it was still neat to see.

loyal to a fault: the living room, middle earth music hall (2), nectar's, paradise, metronome, the roxy, avalon, pickel barrel. nine averi shows and two vows "never to let myself be disappointed by a performance again." "for better or worse" rings true.

"alternacoustic": pete thurston. gregory page. tristan prettyman (whom i wound up seeing four times in a series of lucky breaks). ryan montbleau (seen live twice). tides (andrew's band - seen twice and prepped as my next favorite boston band). finally see damien rice, ben folds, rilo kiley, rufus wainwright in concert. the last dispatch. the rise and fall of gavin degraw (witnessed over the course of three shows during the year), lost with the guitarist. saw again: jason mraz, guster, ani difranco, matt nathanson (2), howie day (3, including the second-dual-day day).

"ah, my people" moments: standing in a theater packed with people who knew every bit of rilo kiley's musical canon, singing along to "a better son/daughter." reading "elliott smith and the big nothing," full of its references to music i actually care about.

casa de racca: june move to the new place with two flatmates. never realized what a selling point color on the walls could be.

happy birthday: surprise! bush's re-election confirmed on my birthday. i postpone birthday celebrations in order to properly mourn; the weekend celebration at the pickel barrel is less-than-spectacular. i cut my losses and think of when i'll turn 25.

and i thought the bridges were burned: my first trip back to dc since moving is an absolute delight. as i walked down the familiar perilous sidewalks of capitol hill, the sense of relief i experience surprised even me. seeing my byline on the wall of front pages at the newseum served as delicious icing on the cake.

"stop the presses": full-time journalism job. got what i wished for.

dirty water: i make many trips; i start to make many plans.

greedy american period-abuser: i start my novel. for real, this time.

*since i couldn't sleep last night, i watched the NESN red sox year in review my uncle gave me for christmas. as i watched footage of the rolling rally, it still didn't feel like i was there, among the 3.2 million crazy people flooding the streets and river shores. huh.

t-minus

status check - distracted
background ambiance - elliott smith (finally bought "from a basement ...")

no matter how quickly "the day before ___" races by, that last two hour block never ceases to drag by.

my day has been a blur of running around, acting professional, showing off savvy and meeting deadlines. the time has passed quickly, aided by the consumption of several cups of coffee (buzzhehehehebuzz). but the moment 8 p.m. hit - BAM!

time
proceded
to
stand
still

despite my best efforts for distraction - gleefully cheering the news that the sox reached an agreement with JV, rereading gaiety information, listening to "from a basement on the hill," searching myspace like it was my job - the past 55 minutes have felt longer than the rest of the day.

just let it be my holiday mini-break weekend already ...

dozy

status check - absurdly sleepy
background ambiance - scanners

it's so warm that i just want to curl up and close my eyes ... just go to sleep ... rest for just a few minutes ...

roasted, toasted

status check - sweltering
background ambiance - scanners

how you feelin - hot hot hot ...

i suppose it's better than the alternative. i could be shivering, bundled beneath layer upon layer of clothing.

instead, i'm sitting at my designated location, which is conveniently positioned directly below an air vent. due to some quirk in the heating system, my little work space has been transformed into a tropical sauna.

think of vegas - in august - without the luxury of a dry heat - while dressed for december in new england.

as i gulp down water and push up my sleeves, i remind myself that i'm much happier with it being too hot than it being too cold. could be worse - we could not have heat at all.

but it would just be more tolerable with a frozen margarita to enjoy - or something likewise blended and served in a frosted glass.

but instead, i sit here, feeling the continuous stream of hot air beat down upon my head. realizing my face has become flushed to the point of matching my bright pink ribbed turtleneck (see? winter = turtlenecks and sweaters, friends). actually looking forward to those first few seconds when i burst out into the cold after the day has come to a close. anticipating those first icy gulps of air and those first clouds of steam when i exhale.

and wondering if i can find some appropriate hot weather music to listen to as i count down those final hours.

because

status check - peachy
background ambiance -

survey follows. but first, since i was asked today, the latest in v's currents:

currently reading: reading two books at one right now. "requiem for a dream" and "elliott smith and the big nothing."

currently listening to: i've been listening to a lot of ryan montbleau lately. "begin" has continued to dominate my car stereo. rilo kiley's "the execution of all things," of course, plus my NEMO compilation - featuring syd, adam ezra group, world/inferno friendship society and the like.

currently looking forward to: a holiday weekend. boston. seeing my family's reactions to the gifts i've selected. spring and/or california in february. whatever concert i find myself at next. getting sleep tonight. etc. etc. etc.

[ one ] grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. write down what it says: "Standard Code for Information Inter-"

[ two ] stretch your left arm out as far as you can. what do you touch first? VYO playbill tacked to the wall

[ three ] what is the last thing you watched on TV? uh ... some infomerical was on last night as i prepared to go to sleep."

[ four ] Without looking at the clock, guess what time it is: 3:31 p.m.

[ five ] now look at the clock. what is the actual time? 3:47 p.m.

[ six ] With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? people talking on the phone. police scanners (2). typing. conversations.

[ seven ] When did you last step outside? what were you doing? about an hour ago. my computer was being worked on, so i went to get a cup of coffee.

[ eight ] Before you came to this website, what did you look at? damn you, myspace.

[ nine ] What are you wearing? black pants. black 3/4 sleeve buttondown with thin pink and blue stripes. black boots. black necklace. trend?

[ ten ] Did you dream last night? nope. the first time in about a week i didn't.

[ eleven ] When did you last laugh? about a half hour ago - watching dennis' averi video.

[ twelve ] What is on the walls of the room you are in? office stuff. some shelves, with phone books, AP stylebooks and newspapers. some printed pictures, previously mentioned playbill. a couple of press tags, concert tickets. phone list. a hand-written reminder that "we are not a mulling people."

[ thirteen ] Seen anything weird lately? i see weird things every day.

[ fourteen ] What was the last film you saw? bend it like beckham. i was frightened by how much of it i can quote.

[ fifteen ] If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first? tickets to cali.

[ sixteen ] Tell me something about you that I don't know: i'll put ketchup on almost anything.

[ seventeen ] if you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? bye bye bush.

[ eighteen ] Do you like to dance? yep. hey, you didn't ask if i was good at it ...

[ nineteen ] George Bush: can go back to the abyss of hell he sprang from.

[ twenty ] Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her? molly, abigail, perhaps elizabeth so i can call her eliz.

[ twenty-one ] imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him? andrew.

...

status check - contemplative
background ambiance - rilo kiley, "with arms outstretched"

i'm not a big fan of ghost stories - not as much as i was when i was young. back then, i would read "scariest stories you've never heard" volumes 1-265, however many there were. christopher pike young adult novels with the ghost of a teenager for a narrator and the like. i devoured them, loving the idea of ghosts and being scared.

as i grew older, the natural sketpicism grew and i eventually dismissed the idea of lingering spirits and sleeping with the bedroom door open so as to shed light inside my room (i was never scared of the dark, but if something supernatural was in the room with me, i wanted to be able to see it clearly).

every once in awhile, however, you hear about something that makes you stop and ponder. or, perhaps, you have something happen to you where the timing is so on that you have to think, "well, maybe ..."

i had one of those situations occur four years ago today. christmas break of junior year and i was back at the vacation job (mcdonald's, represent). during the evening, i was out in the back area making salads, when i happened to look up front to see if they needed my help. i was amazed to see that lexi, a good friend since early freshman year, was at the front counter.

surprised, my face broke into a grin and i started to head to the counter to say hi. i looked down, then looked up and saw that the woman there looked nothing at all like lexi - must have been my mind playing tricks on me. i went back to my salad-making, briefly thinking about how random it was that i would think lexi would be stopping into the store when she lived nowhere near there.

this occurred shortly after i'd decided to take out my tongue piercing. after a few years of it, i had randomly decided that i didn't want it anymore ... but spent much of the time thinking about the day lexi, becca and lucas went with me to get it. after my shift that night, i went home, took out the barbell and went to sleep - i woke up the next day and the hole had, as i'd hoped, healed overnight.

two completely random things, nothing that would normally have stood out (besides the fact that i no longer had the barbell to play with - which was in and of itself a hard thing to get used to). but, as it turned out, just around the time i thought i saw lexi at the store, she died. right around the time i first decided to get rid of the piercing she had gone with me to get, she was involved with a car accident.

the news didn't reach me until the next day, when my store managers told me that the rest of my shift was covered and i needed to go to my friend's house, which was within walking distance from the store. grumbling at the thought of a missed afternoon of work, i walked up to her front door, rang the doorbell, and saw the red eyes and tears inside.

so it's been four years and lexi continues to be in my thoughts from time to time. i'll remember laughing until i cried as she sprawled on the floor doing the worm. i might listen to some tori amos and remember her exasperated participation in an audio letter i made for a friend back home who thought tori was "lesbian music" - "LESBIAN? tori's MARRIED!" when i'm frustrated, i might recall our last conversation, as i ranted about not having enough time for all the responsibilities i had - "vic, it sucks. i know how it feels. there's no way to make it feel better right now, but i understand and i know it's horrible." and i'll remember how that little bit of honesty - void of any of the sugar-coating and optimism others had tried - worked perfectly.

i miss my friend, but i just smile. because that's what lexi made me do in life. and i smiled when i thought i saw her that day four years ago.

and, for one day - or in one instance, at least - i'll believe in the idea of ghosts or presences and imagine she's smiling back at my grin.

ISO: a little bing crosby to finish things off

status check - exhausted
background ambiance - television

christmas 2004. i've managed to outdo myself without doing myself in. the holiday should be a success.

i'm a habitual last-minute holiday participant. while i annually know precisely what to get for those on my christmas list, the holiday sneaks up on me each year, leaving me breathlessly running from store to store to pick up the items.

i wasn't going to let it happen again this year. as i write this, with nearly a week until the holiday, i have every item (save one being purchased tomorrow) either home (and fabulously wrapped) or en route via mail (with wrapping paper, ribbons and labels ready).

and i'm exhausted as a result.

but the holiday will be grand, i predict. i'm thrilled to see my loved ones' faces when they peel back the layers of paper and tissue to see what i've carefully selected. i think i've done well.

after my parents finally accepted our acceptance of the santa situation, my mother started a habit of labeling gifts with clever hints as to what waits inside. the year i received a dvd of "say anything" (still one of the best movies provided by the 1980s), the label read "from: lloyd." last year's toy-sized vespa (because i'd jokingly said i wanted one) was from rocco (courtesy of "the restaurant").

i always enjoy making similar labels, but i worry if i'm taking the fun out of the game by making it too difficult. it's a fine line, really. you want to give the person a fighting chance to guest it, but you don't want to make it overly obvious.

this makes the label-writing more of a mind-racking experience than one might otherwise think. but i've come up with a collection of gifts with labels of various degrees of difficulty. some they'll get right away, others might make them scratch their heads. others they'll have no chance at. i almost wonder if i should put a number on each label, to distinguish the difficulty level of the label. 1 - easy. 2 - ponder it a bit. 3 - don't even think about it, just open up and laugh after the fact.

nevertheless, i'm looking forward to witnessing the brain teasing and being likewise forced to think early on a saturday morning. the one time i'll allow thought without coffee that early in the morning.

as i wrapped and decorated the gifts yesterday with my flatmates, we decided christmas music was necessary. as my mother owns all the holiday cds i've ever listened to in the past, we turned our cable to the digital music channels (such slaves for technology). we bobbed our heads to bon jovi, sang along to "jingle bell rock" - i even stared at the television for three minutes while the eurythmics performed "winter wonderland."

festive, in a somewhat alarming sort of way.

but i'll save the rest of my holiday music for the christmas eve drive to SoVo and, later that day, massachusetts. christmas is the drive, harmonizing to my mother's radio accompaniment to "rockin' around the christmas tree" and bing crosby's "christmas in killarny."

as for now, four more days of waiting for the holiday goodness.

wow.

status check - shocked
background ambiance - christmas music

well, it was certainly interesting to receive this year's averi christmas card.

thing have really changed, huh?

at least i loved the photo ... yay for stu!

just being

status check - happy
background ambiance - silence, although i've got "beautiful, beautiful" stuck in my head

i like to keep busy. i like to be doing things, going places, seeing sights. it's been well established, through my crazy roadtrips and decisions to "just check it out," whatever it may be.

sometimes, however, a friday evening rolls around and i realize i don't want to do anything. i just want to curl up in jeans and a sweatshirt and do whatever requires the least bit of energy and thought.

such nights can be pretty hit or miss. depends on how the stars align, if you're doing nothing alone or if you have partners in non-existant crime.

tonight, however, has worked out well. i arrived home, with my "aw, screw it, i'm lazy tonight" chinese takeout and spent the evening laughing and going through memories posted online. some my own, most decidely not - which made it all the funnier. beth and i inadvertantly wandered into a web of links and blogs, straying from averi to howie to mraz to ewan to some terrifyingly hilarious music by a band i sincerely hope remains forever hidden in obscurity.

we wound up back here, reading posts from years gone by - years that feel much more distant than the calendar might claim. it was funny to see how 2001 conjures images of sophomore year of college ... all the more so when we were reminded that it was actually senior year.

beth commented on the fact that i used to write much more about my day-to-day activities back then, instead of the broader commentaries (such as they are) that i compose now. a valid observation, i quickly realized. the end of 2001 marked my last comprehensive year in review - it was almost disappointing to see that follow-ups weren't included. i was shocked to realize i did not promptly capture various phone calls in dc - including most the voicemail from burlington in early september 2002 and my disastrous drunk dial the following november (let it be stated: we drunk dialed everyone my age in my phone book, including timme - i still don't know how we got that number - and chad. this also marks the last time i actually spoke with chad on the telephone).

the concerts - those have been consistent. i can follow my growing knowledge of howie day shows, averi shows, john shows, et al. i can once again race back to the horrible feeling of illness that swept over me the first time i tried to see mraz, when i left iota convinced i'd be passed out on the sidewalk before reaching the metro. i made references to wishing i could speak again to people i've subsequently reconnected with - i described connections with people i'm likely never to see or speak to again.

but i haven't done much of it lately. i've been writing about my politics, my online findings, whatever ... but what ever happened to the days of multiple posts during an attempt at an all-nighter? my vows of "never write a paper for so-and-so again," followed by vows to "never write a paper for so-and-so again, take 2"? sure, some elements have changed - definitely no longer the college girl, instead a *cough* professional, but i can maintain some of that spirit and daily insight, right?

maybe it's just that i subconsciously believe that i'll remember more things now that i'm out of the rush of college and early adulthood (as i'm now supposedly in early-mid-adulthood). or perhaps it's simply that i haven't done anything i consider spectacular enough to document for the ages. i don't believe either argument. i know things have already slipped my memory (i just hope something jogs it back into my mind), and i've done some fascinating things since.

and i've just had my random, logic-defying thoughts, both in waking and sleeping worlds.

i had two vivid dreams tuesday night - one involved a flood. it focused predominantly on the return to my flooded car after the waters receded. i remember walking ten miles to get to the car, at which point i stood by it, furious that it wasn't likely to work and that i wouldn't be able to get to any of the places i needed to go. logic at its finest: after walking ten miles, i believed i couldn't get anywhere.

in the other, i was a student - my age, just in school. perhaps grad, but the details weren't too clear. i was at a school lounge, listening to some live music by a singer-songwriter, when i realized i had five minutes to get to class for an exam. i felt no need to leave, however, until the musician suddenly exclaimed, "shit! i have five minutes before an exam!" we were in the same class, and we raced to the classroom, our binders pressed against our chests so the notebook paper wouldn't fly onto the hallway floor. we got into class just as the professor was beginning to hand out the exams, and we took seats in the same row, one student between us. i flipped over the exam booklet and realized i needed to know everything there was to know about thailand - and i knew nothing. the musican and i each looked at each other with dumbfounded expressions, turned back and began to bullshit through each of the exams. i woke up just as i wrote that thailand's year of independence was 1962. (for the record, the following day i looked up thailand in the cia world factbook. thailand independence: 1238 - traditional founding date - never colonized. newest constitution signed by king phumpiphon on 11 october 1997.)

dream analysis gurus of the e-world, lend me your expertise.

i used to mention things like that. i haven't in ages.

can it be that i need to focus on ME more? many would laugh out loud and say that's not possible - touche, i say to you, sirs and madams. but let's face it, i'm a writer. you write what you know, you know what you learn, you learn what you remember. which means i should be able to take from my learnings four years ago as well as those four months ago.

to think, i wind up having a grand philosophical rant and debate with myself - one i should have more often - on a night when i decide to just be for a bit.

note to self: be more often.

huzzah!

status check - elated
background ambiance - typical

from today's boston globe buisness section:

The Massachusetts Land Court heard arguments that it should stop a developer from demolishing the defunct Gaiety Theatre, near Chinatown. The Gaiety's owner, Kensington Investment Co., recently was issued a demolition permit. But a Gaiety neighbor, the Glass Slipper strip club, asserted it would be harmed by the theater's demolition. According to the Glass Slipper, the city zoning code allows the demolition of theaters in the theater district only under special circumstances. But, Kensington's lawyers claimed the Glass Slipper failed to demonstrate that it would be harmed by the demolition. Kensington wants to replace the Gaiety and the Glass Slipper with an apartment building. Judge Keith C. Long said he would issue a ruling next week after Kensington agreed not to take any action until then.

i've never loved a strip club so much in my life.

the gaiety's dying

status check - disheartened
background ambiance - letterman

from my myspace rants today (and there were several):

the gaiety theatre may come down tomorrow.

the phoenix reports that a last minute injunction hearing was scheduled for 10 a.m. today. no information about the decision is yet available, but things didn't look good.

if justice keith c. long of massachusetts land court rules against the injunction, friday would mark the first day kensington place developers could tear down the theater, located on washington street in chinatown. boston's inspectional services department granted kensington a demolition permit on dec. 10.

since learning about the gaiety a few months ago, i have tried to maintain my faith in boston's logic and sense of tradition - all the while preparing myself for news of this nature. i'd walked by the building time and time again during my travels and had no idea that a theater was inside - thanks largely to kensington's successful attempts to let the building fall to ruin.

loathsome kudos would also go to the boston redevelopment authority and boston zoning commission, who have contorted city statues so as to allow the theater to reach this point. the BZC specificially bars anyone from demolishing a theater in the midtown cultural district (unless the building is deemed unsafe). questions over whether the gaiety building is still considered a theater remain unanswered, particularly since the demolition permit describes the legal use as a theater.

i've made a point to return to the gaiety since learning of what was inside - that it could be destroyed has infuriated me for months. the reckless disregard for a theater space is unforgivable - particularly when one learns of the shoddy care and treatment kensington developers have given the building for over 20 years. look at photos of the space - it could be saved and it would be gorgeous. not just another highrise of luxury apartments and a few token "affordable" housing units (and a highrise that does not conform to statutes, no less).

i'd recommend checking out the "friends of the gaiety" web site. a few photos from the exterior are available in boston galleries at my photo site (password DA36).

i'm going to be furious if i go back to boston in a week and a half and there's no gaiety to look upon. but i wonder if it would be worse to have demolition already started when i see it next or just know it's days away?

can't resist

status check - weak
background ambiance - typical

sometimes
you
just
can't
not
do
it
.

damn surveys. and i've been so good about them for so long. nevertheless. stolen. steal accordingly.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. victoria
2. vickie
3. vix

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. insects that buzz. mostly hornets/bees/etc, but i've been known to freak out at the sound of a particularly large fly. i'm terrified of being stung.
2. being strangled. i'm better than i used to be, but a couple years ago, people i trusted couldn't even come near my neck with their hands. i'd cringe.
3. not necessarily "scare," but i can be easily startled by people/things jumping out at me unexpectedly. i scream every time.

THREE THINGS THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY:
1. my friends/family
2. music/theater
3. writing

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. lip gloss/balm
2. music
3. my cell phone (i know, i hate me for it, too)

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. dark jeans
2. burnt orange sweater (burnt as in the color, not the sweater)
3. black boots

THREE THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE OR SAME SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. a good laugh/sense of humor.
2. opinions - all the better if some happen to line up with mine, but i like being able to discuss things.
3. musical knowledge and/or ability. this is crucial.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. writing.
2. talking/hanging out.
3. driving.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW:
1. a trip to california ...
2. a city to call my own.
3. a backrub. something fierce.

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. a & e reporter/critic
2. published author
3. rockstar (well, no, but still. it would be funny.)

THREE PLACES YOU WOULD GO ON VACATION:
1. california!
2. london!
3. new zealand!

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. to put stamps on the passport (scratch that. to HAVE a passport).
2. to have a novel published.
3. to live in boston.

q&a

status check - cold
background ambiance - typical

posted this on the myspace, but figured i'd open it up over here as well. i received a myspace bulletin with this whole "get to know you" thing - much like a survey without all the specific questions. the point of it was that people could ask you three questions about yourself - silly, serious, random, etc. - and you have to answer them completely honestly.

i know i could be setting myself up for disaster, but what the hell, bring it. i invite you to comment here and post three questions. i'll reply on here - and i promise to be completely truthful.

if you don't - hey, works for me - nothing i have to share beyond that i normally would. win-win situation for me. but i'd like it better if you did (this includes both those who "know me" and those i've never had the opportunity to meet).

some stories ...

status check - happy
background ambiance - typical

... don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. delicious ambiguity ...
- gilda radner

i bought a small, square book on saturday that features that quote on the cover. a white book, with 100 white, lined pages, the radner quote printed on front in black typewriter print.

i thought it was perfectly suited to holding my first novel inside.

yes, i know i went on this whole tangent about not blogging anymore, focusing on the myspace posts and whatnot. but i find i mainly write about politics over there, and there's a whole lot more to me than just that ... besides. i love my blogger account. so i'm back again (well, back to doing both, anyway).

things are well. despite the fact that it appears pedro's heading to new york (have fun with that 10-win season with the mets, buddy), despite the snow, despite the cold that continues to pester me, things are going well and i'm pretty content. or, at least, as content as i ever am. it's always just for the time being with me.

the novel is coming along well. i'm a little nervous now that i just wrote that, as i'll get screwed over by some form of e-attack again, but hey. i'll face the potential of disaster. do what you will on the computer, demons - i've got it all backed up on paper! take that, suckas.

winter is making a slow, lethargic arrival, tormenting us with snow bursts and flurries that clear up by the afternoon. we all know it will finally descend upon us, blanketing everything in white for months at a time, but i'm actually enjoying this half-assed attempt at the season. i'd be perfectly happy if it stayed this way through april - keep it at 38, with clear skies and tiny snow showers. i could catch the snowflakes on my tongue and not have to worry about freezing. my idea of a heavenly new england.

during one of saturday's snow squalls, i treked to nectar's to catch an opening set by the adam ezra group - a band i'd apparently heard of years before but never quite remembered. i'll remember now, as the band put on a fun show surprisingly reminiscent of dispatch and virgina coalition. my percussion-happy spirit was satsified with two percussionists - during my favorite moment, adam strapped on a djembe and started jamming with them.

adam had a warm voice that suited the funky happy vibe quite well - and he performed barefoot, which i think is just the coolest thing. he also served as another example of how someone who's a good singer can be a great performer by pairing vocals with an instrument.

give me a musician over a singer anyday - yes, nail those vocals, but do it while playing something. guitar, keyboard, whatever. don't just stand there and grip the microphone.

i'm stumbling toward christmas with a sense of disbelief - it hasn't hit me that it's less than two weeks away. fortunately, i'm ahead of the game this year - just need a few odds and ends and a whole lot of wrapping and ribbon. then i'll be done and ready to bop my way down to massachusetts to revel in holiday goodness with the family types.

IMing with my brother today, he commented on how everyone in our four-member family unit seems happy - wherever they are, whatever they're doing. i thought about it for a moment and laughed. sure, there are things we'd each like to change, but he was right.

my response?

"weird, isn't it?"

temporary hiatus

status check - just groovy
background ambiance - silence

somehow, while attempting to post earlier this evening, the combination of blogger and bloggerbot made my computer start doing all sorts of crazy things and, finally, commit some form of e-self-mutilation. among the casualty of said implosion: all of my recent videos, any of the photos i hadn't already published online and, most agonizingly, a large chunk of the novel i started writing this week.

the videos made me sad, the photos made me angry, the novel made me want to cry. fortunately i have the crux of the words either still fresh in my mind or written down in fragmented pieces in notebooks. it shouldn't screw me over too much - and hey, things were going too easily on that front. back to sweating out the words through the classic use of pen and paper. viva la technology. bah.

i am, however, taking it somewhat as an omen. coupled with the fact that myspace has been luring me away as of late, i'm going to lay off blogspot for a bit. i'm sure i'll post at some point soon (i can't walk away from four years worth of posting here or at madderrain, after all), but most of my rambles will be primarily published over at my profile there (easily accessible here). i'm actually finding that forum more enjoyable right now anyway - you can get a sense of who i am a bit more and it's easier to interact. or, at least, i'm finding that people over there tend to interact more. which is nice to experience - much as this writing is for myself, it's also nice to get feedback on it from time to time.

i'm still figuring out what i'm going to do on the notebook nightlife front - i have a ton of information just waiting to be posted there. i will drop a line here to announce what i do with it.

i've got a number of things coming up - the novel's being penned and i'm determined not to stop until i've got at least a complete work of drivel finished; i may have a new blog venture on the horizon, but with a co-author (operative word: may); i'm writing about myself, politics, pop culture and everything else you've come to expect at revelry over at myspace. i'm actually pleased with some of the things i've been coming up with lately.

so head on over, say hi, drop a line ... and, as always, feel free to drop a line here saying hi or you can send me email. i'd love to be able to chat.

talk to you soon - be good. xoxoxo.

canned or dry, we neva die.

status check - sleepy
background ambiance - strong bad email

because she knows i can never find enough ways to procrastinate and otherwise waste time, michelle introduced me to the addictive, wiley ways of strong bad email at homestarrunner this weekend. which means i'm going to be going through all of the amusing goodness for the next several days. damn you - i mean, thank you - michelle.

thought i'd post something that i wrote over on the addictionspace this evening. one might think such a double-post serves as an attempt to make sure as many readers as possible could view my take on the war in iraq and explanation as to how i developed my anti-war philosophy. i would say to one that one should keep on thinking that, even after i admit that the post wound up taking a completely different tone than i'd expected when i wanted to comment on the fact that i'm seeing ani difranco at the flynn tomorrow night. i tapped into thoughts i hadn't thought in a good long while - thus feeling so happy about the writing process.

there's something about the coming show that just leaves me awed and nostalgic at the same time. the awe is the easy part to recognize, as she's the goddess of all that is righteous and i never cease to feel disappointed in myself for not playing my guitar (which is in need of a new name, by the way) more often than i do. i see her tearing up the place with her 5-foot-nothing frame and i realize the guitar is nearly half the size she is. if she can do it, there's no reason why i shouldn't get off my ass, turn off the strong bad email and get back to playing (ok - learning to play). per tradition, i'll spend the several days following the show playing my little heart out and my little fingers raw. hopefully i'll stick with it this time.

but the nostalgia is prompted a bit by ani, a bit by this time of year. the first time i saw ani, i didn't know much about her, other than the fact that lexi thought she was a goddess. lexi, then my hall-mate, invited me along to the ani show at memorial aud and i thought that was the coolest thing. so i went, was amazed and wound up talking with lexi more than i had before.

so you take ani and the realization that december's coming up and i get a little sentimental and sad, thinking of my fabulous, india-bound friend. i've been doing it a lot lately - thinking of her. the realization that it'll be three years on december 20th doesn't really register. it feels like it's been longer. she's already taken on this sepia-toned image in my mind - she's always been there, but she's also always been gone and i've always missed her.

anyway, ani. the myspace post. which officially makes this my "let's think back on people we knew until something stupid/tragic happened and they were taken away" post for the year. harsh-sounding? not intended. but somewhat fitting, you've got to admit.
------------------
an additional 420 vermont national guard soldiers are likely to be deployed in january and february, thus adding to the number of green mountain boys and girls who are putting themselves in harm's way so as to placate the chimp in charge who nestles in the oval office.

truth be told, i give credit to those put aside their own personal thoughts to follow through on what they signed up for - which turns out to be a war without purpose or solution. granted, i give even more credit to those possibly facing court-martials for refusing to go into a particularly dangerous mission, but that's neither here nor there. the fact of the matter is that there's no way in hell i could possibly even attempt to do what the troops overseas are doing on a daily basis.

i've always been about as far from a militaristic type as one could imagine - a reality that amazes me, considering the family genes. both of my grandfathers served, and my father desperately wanted to go to vietnam.

i kid you not - he wanted to go. he tried to enlist several times, but couldn't get in because his vision wasn't up to snuff. i grew up with stories of how he wanted to be a soldier. how he and his friend both enlisted - and he actually passed through the tests that one time - but when he showed up at the buses to head off to training, they said his vision was really just too poor to go. he watched his friend leave in the bus and felt lost and uncertain about what he would do if he couldn't be a soldier.

turns out, he would start a career, meet a wife and have a couple of kids, all the while reading his war books and watching his war movies. "M*A*S*H" was a household staple, as was "tour of duty."

but his daughter? i used to laugh when army recruiters came to my high school to talk about a potential future in the military. i finally told one particularly persistent recruiter that the reality of the matter is "that you just don't want me representing or protecting the united states. first roll call of boot camp? the sergent would get in my face, i'd start crying, you'd send me home. but let's say i advanced and was on active duty. you'd actually trust ME with a GUN? let's just cut our losses here and now."

that military placement test you take as a sophomore? i drew pictures with the dots. and, oddly enough, placed in the high percentiles in mechanics because of it. which perpetuated things.

a few of my classmates went into the service following graduation - which meant a large chunk of my class enlisted (hey, you graduate with 32 others, anything three people do that's the same is pretty remarkable). i figured i'd see them at some reunion a decade down the line, with wives they met during their service years and little army brat children.

and then justin died in an ambush in tal afar and any possible "ok, i'm really stretching here but maybe i'll think about not completely disagreeing" thoughts i could have had about the war's justification flew out the window. we had our reunion, but it was at his funeral. think "the big chill" without the sex, alcohol or witty banter.

my republican father knows talking to his democrat daughter about politics will result in a long debate. but he knows it's better not to talk to me about the war. it's one thing to have idealized, romantic notions about a war like those he reads about in his books. it's another to try justifying a war with no cause, no end in sight, and nothing but broken bodies strewn along the way.

appropriate considering i'm seeing the kickass righteous babe tomorrow night:

and i must admit
today my inner pessimist
seems to have got the best of me
we start out sugared up on kool-aid and manifest destiny
and we memorize all the president's names
like little trained monkeys
and then we're spit into the world
so many spinny-eyed t.v. junkies
incapable of unravelling the military industrial mystery
preemptively pacified with history book history
and i've been around the world now
and i can see this about america
the mind control is steep here, man
the myopia is deep here

and behold
those that try to expose the reality
who really try to realize democracy
are shot with rubber bullets and gassed off the streets
while the global power brokers are kept clean and discrete
behind a wall
behind a moat
and that is all
that's all she wrote