Election anxiety. Election party. Election elation! Grading papers. Grading papers. Thanksgiving with friends. Drunken debauchery. Piano lessons. Piano lessons. Piano lessons. Piano lessons. Grading papers. Exhaustion. Thanksgiving with family. Good clean fun. Food. Food. Food. Bad transmission. Goodbye Nissan. New car! New car loan. Parents. Cousins. Parents. I need a drink. Drunken debauchery. Exhaustion.
And....
scene.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
i've been listening to modest mouse again. (gonna float on maybe would you understand?)
the days get shorter and the nights get cold
i like the autumn but this place is getting old
i pack my belongings and i head for the coast
it might not be a lot but i feel like i'm making the most...
i like songs about drifters - books about the same
they both seem to make me feel a little less insane
walked on off to another spot
i still haven't gotten anywhere that i want
did i want love? did i need to know?
why does it always feel like i'm caught in an undertow?
(modest mouse, world at large)
on my mind: minimalism (the kind that has to do with repeated notes and tiny-but-poignant motives), the scottish highlands, churches on sundays, taking a walk, pianos, computers, messes made, doors closed, new boots, a lake, text messages, transmissions, car loans, wine (in bottles and boxes), food in boxes, food in space, plans, 84th birthdays, family, empty things, full things, giving thanks without saying grace, cities, mountains and moors, and cinnamon rolls a la my aunt suz.
i like the autumn but this place is getting old
i pack my belongings and i head for the coast
it might not be a lot but i feel like i'm making the most...
i like songs about drifters - books about the same
they both seem to make me feel a little less insane
walked on off to another spot
i still haven't gotten anywhere that i want
did i want love? did i need to know?
why does it always feel like i'm caught in an undertow?
(modest mouse, world at large)
on my mind: minimalism (the kind that has to do with repeated notes and tiny-but-poignant motives), the scottish highlands, churches on sundays, taking a walk, pianos, computers, messes made, doors closed, new boots, a lake, text messages, transmissions, car loans, wine (in bottles and boxes), food in boxes, food in space, plans, 84th birthdays, family, empty things, full things, giving thanks without saying grace, cities, mountains and moors, and cinnamon rolls a la my aunt suz.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Death by Wagner...
True story:
I was sitting at home tonight grading papers (what else?), when I noticed a giant fucking cockroach nonchalantly strolling across my living room floor. Gross!! And yes, in Texas, giant cockroaches do actually "nonchalantly stroll." Fuck them all.
The thoughts that raced through my head upon seeing the cockroach:
1. Fucking shit.
2. Why have we only had 4 cockroaches in this house ever and each time they have appeared when I'm home alone with nobody to help me kill them or even provide moral support in the endeavor??!! Why?
3. Fucking shit.
4. What can I use to kill it?? My closest pair of shoes are in the other room on the other side of the cockroach's path.
5. Fucking, fucking, shit.
The actual closest thing nearby just happened to be an SMU library book titled Wagner's Ring (sorry SMU!!). I promptly threw Wagner's Ring at the cockroach, and, as he was strolling rather slowly and Wagner's Ring is a rather large book, I managed to kill him in one fell swoop.
In hind-sight, a rather operatic way to go...for a cockroach...
R.I.P.
(Final scene from the second opera in Wagner's Ring cycle (Die Walküre). This is Wotan's farewell to Brünnhilde.)
I was sitting at home tonight grading papers (what else?), when I noticed a giant fucking cockroach nonchalantly strolling across my living room floor. Gross!! And yes, in Texas, giant cockroaches do actually "nonchalantly stroll." Fuck them all.
The thoughts that raced through my head upon seeing the cockroach:
1. Fucking shit.
2. Why have we only had 4 cockroaches in this house ever and each time they have appeared when I'm home alone with nobody to help me kill them or even provide moral support in the endeavor??!! Why?
3. Fucking shit.
4. What can I use to kill it?? My closest pair of shoes are in the other room on the other side of the cockroach's path.
5. Fucking, fucking, shit.
The actual closest thing nearby just happened to be an SMU library book titled Wagner's Ring (sorry SMU!!). I promptly threw Wagner's Ring at the cockroach, and, as he was strolling rather slowly and Wagner's Ring is a rather large book, I managed to kill him in one fell swoop.
In hind-sight, a rather operatic way to go...for a cockroach...
R.I.P.
(Final scene from the second opera in Wagner's Ring cycle (Die Walküre). This is Wotan's farewell to Brünnhilde.)
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Because it's Sunday...
A little gospel-inspired blues from a British missionary kid turned singer/songwriter:
Beth Rowley (Nobody's Fault But Mine)
Beth Rowley (Nobody's Fault But Mine)
Friday, November 21, 2008
Countdown with me.
A countdown of countdowns...
10. 3 hours until I'm done teaching for the week and can begin my weekend.
9. 14 more papers to read before I'm finally done grading (well, at least until after Thanksgiving).
8. 5 hours until I get to eat dinner at my favorite restaurant in Dallas. I'm hungry. Now.
7. 5 days until I'm done teaching for Thanksgiving break!! Yay, holiday breaks!!
6. 29 days until my birthday. Gross. Late(ish) twenties, here I come!
5. 30 days until I'm done teaching for the semester. And again, I say... Yay, holiday breaks!!
4. 2 and 1/2 chapters, 1/2 of a French test, and 1 thesis defense until I'm done with my second effing masters.
3. 32 days until I leave for Scotland for Christmas!!
2. 40 days left in 2008. Yay, New Year's Eve in the U.K. with my sister!
1. 60 days until we are GWB free! Is it too early to start planning an inauguration party?
Oh, and while we're on the subject of counting down, watch this:
Even if you already saw it, watch it again. It's Ben Affleck's only really successful moment since Good Will Hunting.
10. 3 hours until I'm done teaching for the week and can begin my weekend.
9. 14 more papers to read before I'm finally done grading (well, at least until after Thanksgiving).
8. 5 hours until I get to eat dinner at my favorite restaurant in Dallas. I'm hungry. Now.
7. 5 days until I'm done teaching for Thanksgiving break!! Yay, holiday breaks!!
6. 29 days until my birthday. Gross. Late(ish) twenties, here I come!
5. 30 days until I'm done teaching for the semester. And again, I say... Yay, holiday breaks!!
4. 2 and 1/2 chapters, 1/2 of a French test, and 1 thesis defense until I'm done with my second effing masters.
3. 32 days until I leave for Scotland for Christmas!!
2. 40 days left in 2008. Yay, New Year's Eve in the U.K. with my sister!
1. 60 days until we are GWB free! Is it too early to start planning an inauguration party?
Oh, and while we're on the subject of counting down, watch this:
Even if you already saw it, watch it again. It's Ben Affleck's only really successful moment since Good Will Hunting.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
And lest we take ourselves too seriously, Mr. Cage...
4'33 a la Mario:
God, I need to quit watching nerdy musicological(ish) clips on YouTube and actually grade some music history papers.
God, I need to quit watching nerdy musicological(ish) clips on YouTube and actually grade some music history papers.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
"Whereas I love sounds, just as they are..."
What does it say about me that I was recently re-watching (for the twentieth-something time this month) this video of John Cage and was suddenly reminded of a clip from Bridget Jones's Diary?? Don't tell me. I don't really want to know....
(....she says, as she quickly dispels images of herself as a sad, slightly over-weight, 40-something musicologist in poorly fitting relax-fit khakis sitting in a room that smells of cat litter amidst piles of academic debris watching Colin Firth marathons on Lifetime alone on Saturday night whilst sipping day-old coffee spiked with cheap whiskey...)
Anyway, here's Cage on silence:
In all seriousness (and moving away from discussions involving Colin Firth and/or romantic comedies), sometimes I feel I do want sounds - and laughter for that matter - to mean something. I may even need them to mean something. I am so fascinated by Cage because when I hear him talk I realize I'm listening to a man who went about life listening to the world in ways I never can/will. Sure, I can stop and consciously choose to focus on silence for a period of time (maybe even for four minutes and thirty-three seconds), but my ears and my busy mind are constantly filtering out sounds that are "just sounds." Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be in tune with sound as he must have been.
I have a very distinct memory from when I was about 9 or 10 of talking to a man who was telling me he was color blind. For days I couldn't quit asking myself, "how did he know he was color blind???" Clearly, I understand the concept now. Color blind people can't distinguish between colors the way "normal" people can. But I still think about it sometimes. How do we know that when I say "red" my mental image of "red" is the same as his or yours or anyone's? It's all perception, really...
And perception is a fascinating concept.
When I hear Cage talk, I feel like I get a bit of insight into his perception. For moments I can hear "silence" the way he hears it. Or, who knows, maybe I'm not even close and I am just indulging my own perception of Cage's perception...
Circles.
Anyway, I will say Beethoven and Mozart repeat a great deal. I concur. But what lovely repetition!
Also, I love the part of the clip with the cat.
(....she says, as she quickly dispels images of herself as a sad, slightly over-weight, 40-something musicologist in poorly fitting relax-fit khakis sitting in a room that smells of cat litter amidst piles of academic debris watching Colin Firth marathons on Lifetime alone on Saturday night whilst sipping day-old coffee spiked with cheap whiskey...)
Anyway, here's Cage on silence:
In all seriousness (and moving away from discussions involving Colin Firth and/or romantic comedies), sometimes I feel I do want sounds - and laughter for that matter - to mean something. I may even need them to mean something. I am so fascinated by Cage because when I hear him talk I realize I'm listening to a man who went about life listening to the world in ways I never can/will. Sure, I can stop and consciously choose to focus on silence for a period of time (maybe even for four minutes and thirty-three seconds), but my ears and my busy mind are constantly filtering out sounds that are "just sounds." Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be in tune with sound as he must have been.
I have a very distinct memory from when I was about 9 or 10 of talking to a man who was telling me he was color blind. For days I couldn't quit asking myself, "how did he know he was color blind???" Clearly, I understand the concept now. Color blind people can't distinguish between colors the way "normal" people can. But I still think about it sometimes. How do we know that when I say "red" my mental image of "red" is the same as his or yours or anyone's? It's all perception, really...
And perception is a fascinating concept.
When I hear Cage talk, I feel like I get a bit of insight into his perception. For moments I can hear "silence" the way he hears it. Or, who knows, maybe I'm not even close and I am just indulging my own perception of Cage's perception...
Circles.
Anyway, I will say Beethoven and Mozart repeat a great deal. I concur. But what lovely repetition!
Also, I love the part of the clip with the cat.
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