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