i am now the 14-year-old goth i never was. my mom would kill me if she saw me right now.
seriously, though, i've always wanted to paint my nails black. i just like the way they look. and i couldn't be a high school goth girl because i'm like the happiest kid on the planet right now. i'm wearing sweatpants, my roommates are watching fast times at ridgemont high, my wife is here visiting me from france, and i'm about to pick up bryan gomm from work at robert's.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
impossibilities
there's this episode of king of the hill where bobby works as a soda vendor at a nascar track. he's the "go-to guy" for his psycho boss. at one point, during a race, the boss asks bobby to run across the track to bring him a soda. "GO-TO HERE, GO-TO GUY."
i'm not saying my boss puts me in life-threatening situations but she does seem to expect the impossible. which i simply cannot give her. like, i can't make a 3-inch binder any smaller.
Monday, August 3, 2009
yakitate!! japan
i found an anime that is about a kid with solar hands who's obsessed with making japan's representative bread.
my life is complete.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
hey dad
me, dad, and a giant rabbit (1990)
here in north carolina, what should be a 40mph road is generally a 55-60mph road. we don't exactly live in the boonies, but the area is still pretty woodsy. every so often you'll see a little turtle frantically--as frantically as a turtle can get, anyway--trying to cross one of these roads.
my dad is in the army. people salute him and call him sir. but whenever he sees a turtle crossing the road, he stops the car, gets out, and carries the little guy over to the other side.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
storytelling
"It gives me strength, almost unbelievable strength, to know that you are there. I covet your eyes, your ears, the collapsible space between us. How blessed are we to have each other? I am alive and you are alive so we must fill the air with our words. I will fill today, tomorrow, every day until I am taken back to God. I will tell stories to people who will listen and to people who don't want to listen... All the while I will know that you are there. How can I pretend that you do not exist? It would be almost as impossible as you pretending that I do not exist."
-dave eggers, what is the what (2006), p. 535
i've been at my parents' house in north carolina for a month now. it's my first break from school since i started in april '08. and it's weird not being around people all the time. somehow, instant messaging/text messaging/phone calls/twitter/facebook makes me even lonelier. there are certain desperate times when, if i don't get a reply to a text message within a half hour, i start worrying that this person either (a) is in mortal peril or (b) hates my guts.
so that passage from what is the what has been both inspiring and comforting to me. as long as i'm putting words out there, someone is hearing them. someone is there.
-dave eggers, what is the what (2006), p. 535
i've been at my parents' house in north carolina for a month now. it's my first break from school since i started in april '08. and it's weird not being around people all the time. somehow, instant messaging/text messaging/phone calls/twitter/facebook makes me even lonelier. there are certain desperate times when, if i don't get a reply to a text message within a half hour, i start worrying that this person either (a) is in mortal peril or (b) hates my guts.
so that passage from what is the what has been both inspiring and comforting to me. as long as i'm putting words out there, someone is hearing them. someone is there.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
new digs
judging by how infrequent my blog posts are, you'd think i have nothing to say. this is partially true. i rarely have anything important/significant to say. but i think a lot. you can see what i'm thinking every day, practically on the hour, on this new little tumblr i have. and may i suggest that everyone i know should get a tumblr? this is the best method of blogging i've ever come across and believe you me, i've been around this blogosphere for a long time.
TUMBLR
TUMBLR
Friday, April 17, 2009
today
there are certain moments where i wish someone was narrating my life in comic-strip form.
in the car with my cousin william, age 2:
w: (pointing ahead at a road sign) look cass, we're almost to there!
c: (looks) yeah, we are!
w: yes. (waits, car reaches the sign) look! we made it to here!
in the car with my cousin william, age 2:
w: (pointing ahead at a road sign) look cass, we're almost to there!
c: (looks) yeah, we are!
w: yes. (waits, car reaches the sign) look! we made it to here!
Monday, April 13, 2009
theses schmeses
it seems that on every academic paper i've written, my teacher/professor will write, "good ideas, but thesis is unclear." today i got an art history paper back. guess what it said?
i'll admit that i can be little over the top. comparing a work by diane arbus to a work by rembrandt, discussing changes in the function of portraiture, relating it all to theories by herbert read and walter benjamin--relating trout fishing in america to walden, song of myself, and emerson's essays, while discussing romantic elements in postmodern literature, listing even more authors--comparing the scarlet letter to donnie darko (my crowning achievement in high school)--i want to do too many things in one paper.
yet--i try to be as concise as possible. i can't write long papers. so i use as few words as i can and end up being vague.
then, of course, i assume that everyone else in the world follows my same train of thought, so i probably don't explain things as much as i should.
someone recently told me he didn't "get" me. which sounded ridiculous at the time, because what is there to get? now i'm beginning to sympathize, though. i naturally assume that most people think the way i do--i don't have to say anything for someone to understand what i'm thinking or feeling. the papers i write are a lot like the conversations i carry. people have to work to figure out what i'm trying to say.
i'll admit that i can be little over the top. comparing a work by diane arbus to a work by rembrandt, discussing changes in the function of portraiture, relating it all to theories by herbert read and walter benjamin--relating trout fishing in america to walden, song of myself, and emerson's essays, while discussing romantic elements in postmodern literature, listing even more authors--comparing the scarlet letter to donnie darko (my crowning achievement in high school)--i want to do too many things in one paper.
yet--i try to be as concise as possible. i can't write long papers. so i use as few words as i can and end up being vague.
then, of course, i assume that everyone else in the world follows my same train of thought, so i probably don't explain things as much as i should.
someone recently told me he didn't "get" me. which sounded ridiculous at the time, because what is there to get? now i'm beginning to sympathize, though. i naturally assume that most people think the way i do--i don't have to say anything for someone to understand what i'm thinking or feeling. the papers i write are a lot like the conversations i carry. people have to work to figure out what i'm trying to say.
Friday, April 10, 2009
on april, and, on why i am not a poet
designating months to celebrate things is a little silly, but it gets especially silly in april, because it is:
1. national humor month
2. national anxiety month
3. national poetry month
i can dig it, though. typically, i get more anxious in spring than in any other season. april 1st is april fool's day. poets are all over springtime. so it makes sense for these three things to get smooshed together.
yesterday another cassie remarked that no one reads poetry and no one buys poetry, even during national poetry month. this is true. a professor told me once--and i'm paraphrasing--that choosing to be a poet is one of the dumbest things you could ever do to yourself. and there aren't many poets out there, if you think about it. william carlos williams was a doctor. frank o'hara was an art critic and museum curator. these are people who wrote poetry. i write poetry sometimes, and sometimes people like it. but i am certainly not a poet.
even ginsberg held down a few jobs before "howl" really took off, and afterward he was still doing a lot more than writing. what makes ginsberg a poet, though, is that he really lived poetry, more than anyone else. when you listen to him talk it's like a poem. it doesn't matter what he's saying. this is why he wrote about anything and everything and still turned out perfect:
"Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters"
Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof
out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross
surveys the city's blue-grey clouds. Larry Rivers
'll come at 10 AM and take my picture. I'm taking
your picture, pigeons. I'm writing you down, Dawn.
I'm immortalizing your exhaust, Avenue A bus.
O Thought! Now you'll have to think the same thing forever!
New York, June 7, 1980, 6:48 A.M
it boggles my mind. this is why i am not a poet.
1. national humor month
2. national anxiety month
3. national poetry month
i can dig it, though. typically, i get more anxious in spring than in any other season. april 1st is april fool's day. poets are all over springtime. so it makes sense for these three things to get smooshed together.
yesterday another cassie remarked that no one reads poetry and no one buys poetry, even during national poetry month. this is true. a professor told me once--and i'm paraphrasing--that choosing to be a poet is one of the dumbest things you could ever do to yourself. and there aren't many poets out there, if you think about it. william carlos williams was a doctor. frank o'hara was an art critic and museum curator. these are people who wrote poetry. i write poetry sometimes, and sometimes people like it. but i am certainly not a poet.
even ginsberg held down a few jobs before "howl" really took off, and afterward he was still doing a lot more than writing. what makes ginsberg a poet, though, is that he really lived poetry, more than anyone else. when you listen to him talk it's like a poem. it doesn't matter what he's saying. this is why he wrote about anything and everything and still turned out perfect:
"Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters"
Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof
out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross
surveys the city's blue-grey clouds. Larry Rivers
'll come at 10 AM and take my picture. I'm taking
your picture, pigeons. I'm writing you down, Dawn.
I'm immortalizing your exhaust, Avenue A bus.
O Thought! Now you'll have to think the same thing forever!
New York, June 7, 1980, 6:48 A.M
it boggles my mind. this is why i am not a poet.
Friday, April 3, 2009
cravings
does anyone else get sound cravings? i don't mean something like, "man, i really want to listen to marquee moon right now." i mean, "i need to hear a poor-quality drum machine right this second."
it overwhelms me, and actually, it is overwhelming me now, this craving for a bad drum machine. and nothing is satisfying it. le tigre's first album is okay but it doesn't quite cut it, although it does satisfy my constant need for girl band vocals.
then, strangely enough, something that does not involve a truly awful drum machine is just what i've been waiting to hear.
oh gary numan, you and your magic synths, and your ridiculous music videos. thank you.
it overwhelms me, and actually, it is overwhelming me now, this craving for a bad drum machine. and nothing is satisfying it. le tigre's first album is okay but it doesn't quite cut it, although it does satisfy my constant need for girl band vocals.
then, strangely enough, something that does not involve a truly awful drum machine is just what i've been waiting to hear.
oh gary numan, you and your magic synths, and your ridiculous music videos. thank you.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
the two things i know about soup
on monday the weather got nasty, so i decided to make some chicken soup.
this was the first truly successful soup i've made, and i have to attribute my success to two people: carroll barlow and joey mayes. the two things i know about soup, i learned from them. they are probably things everyone knows already. but i didn't.
from carroll: if a recipe says to put in one bay leaf, you had better put in two, if not three. i put in four.
from joey: all the good chicken flavor comes from the fat under the chicken skin. when using chicken meat, better keep the skin on. this soup was extra chicken-y because i let two great big bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts cook in my pre-made broth.
while the chicken was cooking, i chopped up an onion, a few carrots and celery stalks and sauteed it all in butter with garlic and salt. cook's illustrated said to stir in some flour with the vegetables to thicken the soup. i followed their advice. it worked. half a cup of heavy cream helped it along too.
once the soup was good and thick (or thick enough, since i was getting impatient by this point) i dumped in a bag of frozen peas. i forgot how tasty peas are. normally i hate eating them because they're just impossible to get off your plate--they roll around too much. in soup, though, they're perfect.
then i made some dumplings. i was a little nervous because i had never done this before. but it is so easy. you would not believe how easy dumplings are. here's what you need:
flour
baking powder
salt
heavy cream
stir those four things--four things!--together. make little balls from the dough. drop them in your simmering soup, cover your pot, and in fifteen minutes you have more massive, puffy, delicious dumplings than you could possibly eat. but you do anyway, and you are full and happy.
it's magic.
this was the first truly successful soup i've made, and i have to attribute my success to two people: carroll barlow and joey mayes. the two things i know about soup, i learned from them. they are probably things everyone knows already. but i didn't.
from carroll: if a recipe says to put in one bay leaf, you had better put in two, if not three. i put in four.
from joey: all the good chicken flavor comes from the fat under the chicken skin. when using chicken meat, better keep the skin on. this soup was extra chicken-y because i let two great big bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts cook in my pre-made broth.
while the chicken was cooking, i chopped up an onion, a few carrots and celery stalks and sauteed it all in butter with garlic and salt. cook's illustrated said to stir in some flour with the vegetables to thicken the soup. i followed their advice. it worked. half a cup of heavy cream helped it along too.
once the soup was good and thick (or thick enough, since i was getting impatient by this point) i dumped in a bag of frozen peas. i forgot how tasty peas are. normally i hate eating them because they're just impossible to get off your plate--they roll around too much. in soup, though, they're perfect.
then i made some dumplings. i was a little nervous because i had never done this before. but it is so easy. you would not believe how easy dumplings are. here's what you need:
flour
baking powder
salt
heavy cream
stir those four things--four things!--together. make little balls from the dough. drop them in your simmering soup, cover your pot, and in fifteen minutes you have more massive, puffy, delicious dumplings than you could possibly eat. but you do anyway, and you are full and happy.
it's magic.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
god bless you, smith's
sometimes i get down for no good reason at all. i've been this way for the past couple of days. last night, though, i finally got tired of laying around, and went to smith's.
i biked because the nights have been so cool and nice lately. perfect for biking. and here's something weird: i have this obsessive-compulsive need for my knees to touch as i'm pedaling. as a result i have little bruises on my inner knees.
late-night grocery shopping is my ideal cure for the blues, or reds, or whatever it is. i like to think that i'm channeling that ginsberg poem. what peaches and what penumbras! so god bless smith's for being open 24/7. the 7-11 has the chocolate cake donut and raj but you can't wander the aisles in there like you can at the grocery store.
i park my bike and who is there having a smoke? my favorite cashier! all i know about him is that his name starts with "cha," he smokes, and he hates his job, but he's always so nice to me. i love the way he says "thank YOU" in response to my "thank you." another reason why i prefer going to smith's at night is because that's his shift. the night shift.
the only things i really needed were bread and orange juice but wandering the aisles makes you realize all the things you need. bananas, blackberries, red potatoes, an avocado, grape-nuts, oatmeal, shredded wheat, cream cheese, darjeeling tea: all these things were added to my cart.
cha-- had the longest line. i waited for ten to fifteen minutes but it was worth it. i can't explain it. i just love that guy.
the groceries and i made it home safely, all in one piece. not that i was worried. the only time groceries have fallen out of my basket was when a car and i had a collision in the middle of university, and university avenue was pretty slow last night.
once inside i saw the empty apartment as an opportunity to blast aretha franklin's greatest hits as loud as i could from my little portable speakers. i seized that opportunity. i poured myself a bowl of grape-nuts. i made some milky darjeeling. it turned out to be a good night.
i biked because the nights have been so cool and nice lately. perfect for biking. and here's something weird: i have this obsessive-compulsive need for my knees to touch as i'm pedaling. as a result i have little bruises on my inner knees.
late-night grocery shopping is my ideal cure for the blues, or reds, or whatever it is. i like to think that i'm channeling that ginsberg poem. what peaches and what penumbras! so god bless smith's for being open 24/7. the 7-11 has the chocolate cake donut and raj but you can't wander the aisles in there like you can at the grocery store.
i park my bike and who is there having a smoke? my favorite cashier! all i know about him is that his name starts with "cha," he smokes, and he hates his job, but he's always so nice to me. i love the way he says "thank YOU" in response to my "thank you." another reason why i prefer going to smith's at night is because that's his shift. the night shift.
the only things i really needed were bread and orange juice but wandering the aisles makes you realize all the things you need. bananas, blackberries, red potatoes, an avocado, grape-nuts, oatmeal, shredded wheat, cream cheese, darjeeling tea: all these things were added to my cart.
cha-- had the longest line. i waited for ten to fifteen minutes but it was worth it. i can't explain it. i just love that guy.
the groceries and i made it home safely, all in one piece. not that i was worried. the only time groceries have fallen out of my basket was when a car and i had a collision in the middle of university, and university avenue was pretty slow last night.
once inside i saw the empty apartment as an opportunity to blast aretha franklin's greatest hits as loud as i could from my little portable speakers. i seized that opportunity. i poured myself a bowl of grape-nuts. i made some milky darjeeling. it turned out to be a good night.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
s'more
here's me in writing fiction this morning.
recently i discovered how much i love pop tarts.
and how much i hate how i love pop tarts.
yes, i have a super high fiber intake. yes, i eat a lot of whole grains. yes, i enjoy kale and assorted greens. but i am still such a sucker for junk food. beto's texano burrito, the 7-11 chocolate cake donut, pop tarts: these are my weaknesses.
recently i discovered how much i love pop tarts.
and how much i hate how i love pop tarts.
yes, i have a super high fiber intake. yes, i eat a lot of whole grains. yes, i enjoy kale and assorted greens. but i am still such a sucker for junk food. beto's texano burrito, the 7-11 chocolate cake donut, pop tarts: these are my weaknesses.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
the past, the present, the future, and some hyperlinks
it occurs to me that nearly every post i make starts out with "when i was thirteen" or "i did this when i was nine." how lame is that? from now on i hope to blog in the present, and maybe in the future too. so here are things that have happened to me in the past week, and a few things to come in the week to follow:
1. i got inscaped, which really isn't much, but it's nice to know that people like my poetry. there was a release party that i wasn't planning on going to until i was asked to read. so i read. the best thing in the magazine, though, is a story called "the instinct to climb a fence." it's about a kid that gets mauled by a bear.
2. i saw burnt reynolds & his hot bones play at kilby court. i love those guys. on the way up to salt lake i told jessica she should come to the show, and she did. i love her too. she is such a pleasant person to talk to and be around.
3. i ate at pete's lunch with joey and newlin and two people whose names i remember but am not sure how to spell. pete's lunch is a place i spotted when i first moved to provo, and i have been longing to go there. there are few things i love more than a legit diner. i got the denver omelette and i am shocked to say that it may top the veggie omelette at andy's in highland falls, NY. honestly, the only thing andy's has that pete's doesn't is homefries. homefries will always trump hashbrowns. then i had a bite of newlin's chicken fried steak, which also delicious. however, it is impossible to find a better chicken fried steak than the one found at the tip top in san antonio, TX. actually, it is impossible to find a better diner--period--than the tip top. good lord.
4. for a while i was considering becoming a vegetarian. it made sense: i don't eat a lot of meat to begin with, and i discovered that vegetarian proteins are not hard to come by (and i was getting a lot of them). but then i had a bite of that chicken fried steak. then, today, i was watching that diners, drive-ins, and dives guy eat brisket. and i thought of the bottle of rudy's barbecue sauce in my grandpa's fridge that can only go on barbecue. then i thought of my grandpa, who owns a meat plant, and grills me a steak practically every sunday, rain or shine. so i decided that i will never be a vegetarian, and got some skirt steaks from the freezer at the meat plant.
5. i picked up horses, by patti smith, on vinyl at gray whale. i'm not a particular fan of gray whale but i worship patti smith.
things to come:
1. i have an art history exam tomorrow. turns out i'm not so bad at those. i got a 91 on the last one. here are a few reasons why i do all right on these exams: (1) i'm pretty good at remembering names and dates. (2) it is an essay question. (3) it is not given in the testing center. i have mentioned before that the testing center gives me the willies, and this is still the case. i had to take a midterm in there last week and my heart started pounding as soon as i opened the door.
2. baking. the last thing i baked was a hot milk cake with fudge frosting. this is my comfort food. it fills a 9x13" pan and i intended to eat it all, but i only got like four pieces before my roommate ate the rest. anyway, it's been at least three weeks since i last baked, and that is far too long.
3. loaning out my copy of trout fishing in america, which is my favorite book. i've written all over it. i've written not one, but two term papers about it. the reason i'm nervous is because the last time i loaned out a book i really loved, it was lost. i don't hold it against the guy but it was on the road, and i had written all over that one too, and it was nice and bent and worn and soft. also, i'm pretty lenient when it comes to loaning out my stuff. i don't ask for people to give books back until they've read them, movies until they've watched them, etc. unfortunately, i often loan things to people shortly before they move.
4. doctoring some t-shirts. i have a huge collection of t-shirts but only a handful are actually wearable. for example, i used to buy only youth-medium t-shirts from michael's and draw on them with fabric sharpie. youth medium t-shirts show my tummy and my ill-fitting jeans fall below my hips. i used to find this attractive. these days, not so much. other shirts are just too big. the graphics are cool but the shirts themselves need cuttin and sewin.
5. reading more essays and nonfiction. the last nonfiction work that i devoured--i mean, really enjoyed--was the feminine mystique. that was like four years ago. right now i've read half of an essay collection by wendell berry and a handful of food essays. then i should probably finish fear & loathing in las vegas, which is not non-fiction, but pretty autobiographical, and highly enjoyable.
1. i got inscaped, which really isn't much, but it's nice to know that people like my poetry. there was a release party that i wasn't planning on going to until i was asked to read. so i read. the best thing in the magazine, though, is a story called "the instinct to climb a fence." it's about a kid that gets mauled by a bear.
2. i saw burnt reynolds & his hot bones play at kilby court. i love those guys. on the way up to salt lake i told jessica she should come to the show, and she did. i love her too. she is such a pleasant person to talk to and be around.
3. i ate at pete's lunch with joey and newlin and two people whose names i remember but am not sure how to spell. pete's lunch is a place i spotted when i first moved to provo, and i have been longing to go there. there are few things i love more than a legit diner. i got the denver omelette and i am shocked to say that it may top the veggie omelette at andy's in highland falls, NY. honestly, the only thing andy's has that pete's doesn't is homefries. homefries will always trump hashbrowns. then i had a bite of newlin's chicken fried steak, which also delicious. however, it is impossible to find a better chicken fried steak than the one found at the tip top in san antonio, TX. actually, it is impossible to find a better diner--period--than the tip top. good lord.
4. for a while i was considering becoming a vegetarian. it made sense: i don't eat a lot of meat to begin with, and i discovered that vegetarian proteins are not hard to come by (and i was getting a lot of them). but then i had a bite of that chicken fried steak. then, today, i was watching that diners, drive-ins, and dives guy eat brisket. and i thought of the bottle of rudy's barbecue sauce in my grandpa's fridge that can only go on barbecue. then i thought of my grandpa, who owns a meat plant, and grills me a steak practically every sunday, rain or shine. so i decided that i will never be a vegetarian, and got some skirt steaks from the freezer at the meat plant.
5. i picked up horses, by patti smith, on vinyl at gray whale. i'm not a particular fan of gray whale but i worship patti smith.
things to come:
1. i have an art history exam tomorrow. turns out i'm not so bad at those. i got a 91 on the last one. here are a few reasons why i do all right on these exams: (1) i'm pretty good at remembering names and dates. (2) it is an essay question. (3) it is not given in the testing center. i have mentioned before that the testing center gives me the willies, and this is still the case. i had to take a midterm in there last week and my heart started pounding as soon as i opened the door.
2. baking. the last thing i baked was a hot milk cake with fudge frosting. this is my comfort food. it fills a 9x13" pan and i intended to eat it all, but i only got like four pieces before my roommate ate the rest. anyway, it's been at least three weeks since i last baked, and that is far too long.
3. loaning out my copy of trout fishing in america, which is my favorite book. i've written all over it. i've written not one, but two term papers about it. the reason i'm nervous is because the last time i loaned out a book i really loved, it was lost. i don't hold it against the guy but it was on the road, and i had written all over that one too, and it was nice and bent and worn and soft. also, i'm pretty lenient when it comes to loaning out my stuff. i don't ask for people to give books back until they've read them, movies until they've watched them, etc. unfortunately, i often loan things to people shortly before they move.
4. doctoring some t-shirts. i have a huge collection of t-shirts but only a handful are actually wearable. for example, i used to buy only youth-medium t-shirts from michael's and draw on them with fabric sharpie. youth medium t-shirts show my tummy and my ill-fitting jeans fall below my hips. i used to find this attractive. these days, not so much. other shirts are just too big. the graphics are cool but the shirts themselves need cuttin and sewin.
5. reading more essays and nonfiction. the last nonfiction work that i devoured--i mean, really enjoyed--was the feminine mystique. that was like four years ago. right now i've read half of an essay collection by wendell berry and a handful of food essays. then i should probably finish fear & loathing in las vegas, which is not non-fiction, but pretty autobiographical, and highly enjoyable.
Friday, March 6, 2009
a brief history
honestly, i just want to be cindy wilson. just look at that dress and--oh, lord-- those extensions. cindy wilson is someone i will never be, though. nor will i ever be a musician.
i'm convinced that every mormon girl is subjected to piano lessons at some point in her life. i went through six years of them. like everyone else i hated them, and argued with my parents every week that i wasn't getting anything out of it. it would be so much easier for you to let me quit, and then you wouldn't have to pay anymore, i said. but no, no, no, they said, and you'd get better if you practiced. blah, blah, blah. i want to play drums, i told them. so i joined band in sixth grade.
then my dad brought out this guitar. not that guitars were anything new in the house, but this thing was electric, and it was a fender, and it was red. i had to have it. even though piano lessons had been a failure and a waste of money, they agreed to buy me an amp and find a teacher. the amp was a baby vox. the teacher was tim. tiny tim. i could look him in the eye and i'm only 5'3". at my first lesson he asked me to make a list of all the bands i liked, and every lesson thereafter was tim giving me simplified tabs of led zeppelin and weezer songs.
i hated guitar lessons too. i could noodle around on a piano and know what every key meant. someone could put a sheet of music in front of me and i would know what that meant too. frets and strings didn't make any sense to me, and the only kind of tab i could read was tim tab.
in high school i started going to basement shows and was jealous of all the kids that could play stuff. yeah, i was still in band, but once band directors found out i could read music they put me on mallet percussion. which was cool, but one cannot easily throw a marimba in a van and tote it around. my friend kirstin had a synth. my friend dante wanted to start a band. i bought a keyboard, named it the beast, and got with those guys. so all those piano lessons had come in handy. the problem was that i couldn't improvise. kirstin already had ideas in mind so she basically wrote out parts for me, but with dante i was on my own, and i didn't last long.
i still can't improvise. i'm too nervous. a few weeks ago, though, james was kind enough to show me the fingering pattern for bass scales. it clicked within minutes because the bass was presented to me like a piano. here is this note, this is a major third away from that note, here is the octave. i figured out arpeggios. i don't have a bass so i haven't played since then, but at my grandpa's house there's an acoustic guitar. i play scales and noodle around on the first four strings. i'm hopeful.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
i was nine when my dad started bringing beatles albums home for me. until i was fourteen, not a day went by when i didn't listen to at least one of those albums. i remember one of the college stations in san antonio had a three-hour "best of the beatles" program every sunday. once that was over i'd put in revolver, or beatles for sale, or the white album. this is no exaggeration.
sometime after i started high school i lost interest. i'm not sure why. every once in a while i'd put revolver on my stereo or something, but i didn't feel obligated to listen to them all the time. i didn't have that sense of devotion any longer. instead i got into indie.
not too long ago i was driving with my aunt when "imagine" came on the radio. there was a time when i wouldn't let anyone talk when that came on the radio. it was silent then and i thought back to that time. i felt like i had lost my religion.
don't get me wrong. i like the kinsella brothers as much as the next guy. i've seen the microphones three times and i'd pay to see him again. i have a not-so-secret crush on calvin johnson. but sometimes i just miss the music i listened to when i was younger.
there was one "greatest hits of the 60's" compilation that i remember with particular fondness. "incense and peppermints," "so happy together," "gimme some lovin": it was all there. so were the kinks. i would never have admitted to liking any band more than the beatles, but "you really got me" hit me in a way that no beatles song did. paul revere & the raiders had a song on there too--"just like me"--and i think it's safe to say that my parents would be happy if they never heard that song again. now i realize that this was the rock and roll paul mccartney didn't have the guts for.
so rather than stepping back into the beatles house of worship, i started looking for things that hit me the way the kinks did. the sonics. james chance. the who's first album.
it feels good. if of montreal makes me feel like putting on metallic leggings and a miniskirt, james chance makes me feel like dancing in my underwear. i'd call that a nice change.
sometime after i started high school i lost interest. i'm not sure why. every once in a while i'd put revolver on my stereo or something, but i didn't feel obligated to listen to them all the time. i didn't have that sense of devotion any longer. instead i got into indie.
not too long ago i was driving with my aunt when "imagine" came on the radio. there was a time when i wouldn't let anyone talk when that came on the radio. it was silent then and i thought back to that time. i felt like i had lost my religion.
don't get me wrong. i like the kinsella brothers as much as the next guy. i've seen the microphones three times and i'd pay to see him again. i have a not-so-secret crush on calvin johnson. but sometimes i just miss the music i listened to when i was younger.
there was one "greatest hits of the 60's" compilation that i remember with particular fondness. "incense and peppermints," "so happy together," "gimme some lovin": it was all there. so were the kinks. i would never have admitted to liking any band more than the beatles, but "you really got me" hit me in a way that no beatles song did. paul revere & the raiders had a song on there too--"just like me"--and i think it's safe to say that my parents would be happy if they never heard that song again. now i realize that this was the rock and roll paul mccartney didn't have the guts for.
so rather than stepping back into the beatles house of worship, i started looking for things that hit me the way the kinks did. the sonics. james chance. the who's first album.
it feels good. if of montreal makes me feel like putting on metallic leggings and a miniskirt, james chance makes me feel like dancing in my underwear. i'd call that a nice change.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
the smith's line: thoughts and experience
of all the movies in the world, american splendor is the only one i would consider taking to a desert island to watch over, and over, and over. this is mostly because i've already watched it over, and over, and over, and have yet to get sick of it. harvey pekar fascinates me. i'm not sure if i would like to meet him though. i would probably just like to admire him from afar (and i really do admire him).
i feel a similar way about charles bukowski.
except that i definitely would not like to meet that guy. i mean, even if he was alive.
so, what does this have to do with anything?
i thought of harvey pekar today. at the grocery store i was standing behind a woman who had two boys. one looked to be around six years old, and the other one was two. she was buying twenty bottles of water. each time a bottle was scanned, the register read $1.19.
"these are supposed to be 10 for $10."
the cashier said, "i think that's for another brand of water."
"i was here on saturday and i bought twenty of these same bottles of water, and they were 10 for $10."
the cashier sent someone to do a price check. in the meantime, an older man in suspenders and coke-bottle glasses came behind me. he asked the six-year-old if he had a good christmas. personally i think the time to talk about christmas is a little past due, and i think the boy felt the same way, because he had to think a minute before he said, "yeah."
price-check man came back. the water was indeed 10 for $10. the cashier voided the eight bottles of water she had already scanned, and then had to manually enter a price for each of the twelve remaining bottles of water.
this process had taken about seven minutes. i was thinking of harvey pekar's comic about standing behind old jewish ladies at the grocery store. i had watched a jewish lady scream at a waitress in a deli once, and even though i knew this woman in front of me wasn't jewish, i felt i was getting the same experience. there were other registers open, but i chose to stay in this one. i was excited. the old man didn't go anywhere either, but his motivations were different. i like to think he stayed in line so he could have something to complain about later.
and just when the cashier, the old man, and i thought this lady was about to pay, she asked, "did you get the kleenex coupon in there?"
the cashier was holding a stack of coupons. she pulled out the kleenex one.
"this one is void."
"no it's not."
"yes it is."
"there's no way this coupon is void."
"i'm sorry, but it is."
"it's not. you have to take this coupon."
it went on like this without any signs of stopping. then, the old man behind me looked at the two-year-old boy sitting in the shopping cart.
"are you a ninja?"
the man was completely serious, but his voice was like something out of a cartoon. the boy stared blankly back at him.
"i've see you've got some ninja moves there."
the woman continued arguing. the cashier called a manager. the old man was waiting for an answer. i was covering my mouth so he wouldn't see me laughing. the two-year-old grinned and whispered, "yeah."
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
operation: fridge and pantry cleanout
i've taken up half of the pantry in our apartment. whenever i open the fridge, something falls off my shelf.
this is getting embarrassing.
yesterday i took a survey of everything in the fridge and pantry and then went to the grocery store--which seems to go against my mission, but seriously, who eats tofu straight from the package? this is my problem. i either buy things that i have no idea what to do with, like quinoa, or things that i don't even like. last night i finally threw a package of spicy cappacolla ham at my aunt because even the thought of eating it gives me heartburn.
the other problem i have is that i hate cooking for myself. i'm so lazy. it never seems worth it. yesterday, though, i finally got tired of my daily menu of shredded wheat for breakfast, oatmeal for lunch, and chocolate-covered coffee beans for dinner. i'm sucking it up and making awesome food out of all the ridiculous things i've been collecting.
this is not to say that guests aren't invited, though. leftovers are fine, but eating with people is best.
the menu for the next 2-3 weeks:
tomato and basil calzone (getting rid of the last bit of ricotta and hopefully making a dent in my surplus of basil)
prosciutto-stuffed chicken breasts (this prosciutto is not good enough to eat on its own)
caramelized tofu with brussels sprouts (i am seriously craving brussels sprouts)
quinoa bowl with asparagus, potatoes, onion, and garlic
veggie lasagne (i have like a pound of mushrooms to get rid of)
meatloaf (there's ground beef in the freezer, and i found a surprise bag of panko bread crumbs with my baking supplies)
pot roast (there's one of these in the freezer too)
chana curry (finally! something to do with all those chickpeas i bought! hopefully the guy at indian palace will let me get mint chutney to-go, too. oh lord what a meal.)
ah. as much as i love chocolate-covered coffee beans, this sounds so much better.
this is getting embarrassing.
yesterday i took a survey of everything in the fridge and pantry and then went to the grocery store--which seems to go against my mission, but seriously, who eats tofu straight from the package? this is my problem. i either buy things that i have no idea what to do with, like quinoa, or things that i don't even like. last night i finally threw a package of spicy cappacolla ham at my aunt because even the thought of eating it gives me heartburn.
the other problem i have is that i hate cooking for myself. i'm so lazy. it never seems worth it. yesterday, though, i finally got tired of my daily menu of shredded wheat for breakfast, oatmeal for lunch, and chocolate-covered coffee beans for dinner. i'm sucking it up and making awesome food out of all the ridiculous things i've been collecting.
this is not to say that guests aren't invited, though. leftovers are fine, but eating with people is best.
the menu for the next 2-3 weeks:
tomato and basil calzone (getting rid of the last bit of ricotta and hopefully making a dent in my surplus of basil)
prosciutto-stuffed chicken breasts (this prosciutto is not good enough to eat on its own)
caramelized tofu with brussels sprouts (i am seriously craving brussels sprouts)
quinoa bowl with asparagus, potatoes, onion, and garlic
veggie lasagne (i have like a pound of mushrooms to get rid of)
meatloaf (there's ground beef in the freezer, and i found a surprise bag of panko bread crumbs with my baking supplies)
pot roast (there's one of these in the freezer too)
chana curry (finally! something to do with all those chickpeas i bought! hopefully the guy at indian palace will let me get mint chutney to-go, too. oh lord what a meal.)
ah. as much as i love chocolate-covered coffee beans, this sounds so much better.
Friday, January 9, 2009
everybody is going through the motions
when i was fourteen i thought it would be really cool to dress like elvis costello. i wish i was kidding. i already had black plastic-framed glasses and an androgynous haircut. all i needed were a few blazers and ties. pulling off an elvis costello (circa 1978) look would not have been a problem.
really, though, i was--and am--just jealous of the guy. who wouldn't want to write something like this year's model? today i listened to that album no less than three times. it didn't make me want to put on a shirt and tie, but it did make me wish i could call "little triggers" my own.
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