Has anyone else ever noticed the eerie similarity between Gary Busey and Bubs from Homestar Runner? Resemblence seems pretty uncanny to me...
29 June 2009
separated at birth?
Has anyone else ever noticed the eerie similarity between Gary Busey and Bubs from Homestar Runner? Resemblence seems pretty uncanny to me...
27 June 2009
ear / construction / Duran Duran sucks
Turns out that there was no water in my ear, but instead there was a piece of hair resting on my eardrum. The doc asked if I'd had my hair cut recently. A few months ago, I guess. Somehow this little piece of hair found it's way in there and cozied up to my precious eardrum, where it reverberated and made it feel like there was water in there. Who knew that could happen? I watched the whole process on a GIANT FLATSCREEN MONITOR, as he extracted the thing. Kinda cool, and the sloshing feeling, not surprisingly, went away instantly. Plus, this guy is adorable. And really funny. Sigh. I wish I had, like ANY KIND OF GAME such that I could ask him out.
I'm getting a little (a LOT) tired of the constant construction on this house. I don't know what they're doing, but it goes on literally night and day. For example, it was going on until 1am last night and started at 8:30 this morning (or maybe earlier), with the POWER SAWS. It continues right now. And the walls are very thin so it's like they're doing it in my bedroom. My fear is that they're fixing it all up to sell it, so that months and months of loud construction will end up with a nice eviction notice. I'm worried and annoyed. They don't seem to have any concept of appropriate time for noisemaking, because it's often goes well past midnight. Well, maybe that'll be the thing that finally forces me out of this state.
I did a one-song backup vocal thing this week. It was only (the songwriter) and his girlfriend at the recording (my part was done at their house, though the bulk of the recording is being done at a very nice studio). When I sang the part I created (which I was prepared to modify in any number of ways, per their taste), the guy's girlfriend started crying. She said it was so beautiful and was exactly the kind of part she'd heard in her head. That was nice, because it just feels like noone likes my voice anymore. I just feel so lost and...done, so that was nice to know that at least I can still move someone without even trying.
Tonight I'm singing with a "band" for my cousin's wife's 40th (it's a surprise for her). We did have one rehearsal together, sans the vocal percussionist I got us. And then we tried to have another one via Skype, which was pretty much comically disastrous. Cousin's wife (who is also a friend of mine, and I love) apparently is a big fan of - ahem - Duran Duran, so we're doing a few DD songs, "Don't Stop Believin'" (Journey) and "I Want To Rock and Roll All Night" (Kiss). The latter two are ok, but I definitely solidified my dislike of Duran Duran. And I never really listened to their lyrics before, but they are laughably ridiculous. I'm sure those boys of asymmetrical hair thought they were creating pure poetry when they wrote things like:
Ouch. And no, adding some woman moaning in the background of the recording makes it neither more interesting, nor "sexy".
I'm getting a little (a LOT) tired of the constant construction on this house. I don't know what they're doing, but it goes on literally night and day. For example, it was going on until 1am last night and started at 8:30 this morning (or maybe earlier), with the POWER SAWS. It continues right now. And the walls are very thin so it's like they're doing it in my bedroom. My fear is that they're fixing it all up to sell it, so that months and months of loud construction will end up with a nice eviction notice. I'm worried and annoyed. They don't seem to have any concept of appropriate time for noisemaking, because it's often goes well past midnight. Well, maybe that'll be the thing that finally forces me out of this state.
I did a one-song backup vocal thing this week. It was only (the songwriter) and his girlfriend at the recording (my part was done at their house, though the bulk of the recording is being done at a very nice studio). When I sang the part I created (which I was prepared to modify in any number of ways, per their taste), the guy's girlfriend started crying. She said it was so beautiful and was exactly the kind of part she'd heard in her head. That was nice, because it just feels like noone likes my voice anymore. I just feel so lost and...done, so that was nice to know that at least I can still move someone without even trying.
Tonight I'm singing with a "band" for my cousin's wife's 40th (it's a surprise for her). We did have one rehearsal together, sans the vocal percussionist I got us. And then we tried to have another one via Skype, which was pretty much comically disastrous. Cousin's wife (who is also a friend of mine, and I love) apparently is a big fan of - ahem - Duran Duran, so we're doing a few DD songs, "Don't Stop Believin'" (Journey) and "I Want To Rock and Roll All Night" (Kiss). The latter two are ok, but I definitely solidified my dislike of Duran Duran. And I never really listened to their lyrics before, but they are laughably ridiculous. I'm sure those boys of asymmetrical hair thought they were creating pure poetry when they wrote things like:
In touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
Scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine I'm after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And I'm hungry like the wolf
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
Scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme
I howl and I whine I'm after you
Mouth is alive all running inside
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Ouch. And no, adding some woman moaning in the background of the recording makes it neither more interesting, nor "sexy".
25 June 2009
slosh
Apparently, it's almost a record breaking month of rain...and more rain...and then some more rain. You go to bed and it's raining. And wake up and it's raining. Everything is damp - clothes, paper, my CATS. I couldn't live in Seattle. Then again, I should say the same about here. Because after a bone-chilling winter where temps hovered in the 20s and 30s, and then a WAY below average spring, where temps hovered in the 40s until well into May, we now have a June where we've seen the sun so rarely we don't even know what it looks like anymore. How can I get OUT OF HERE? How can I make it happen? This weather is such bullshit. All jokes about rain aside, it sucks. Supposedly it will briefly clear up tomorrow. And it will probably be 90 degrees.
And there is water stuck in my right ear again. This only happened once before, maybe a year ago. Less? Oh, thank you Google Calendar: it was July 16. A cute young doctor had to use a tiny little vacuum (no kidding) to extract the wax that was keeping that water in. Same deal again now. So I can hear this water sloshing around in my head, like a corked bottle. It fits the general atmospheric theme of dampness. I hopefully have an appointment tomorrow to get this taken care of, because the sloshing is disturbing (I am actively trying not to think about it because it really bothers me, so I should stop writing about it) and shouldn't be left like this. Know that, kids - sometimes it doesn't clear up on its own.
But there's something poetic about being personally as waterlogged as the environment.
And there is water stuck in my right ear again. This only happened once before, maybe a year ago. Less? Oh, thank you Google Calendar: it was July 16. A cute young doctor had to use a tiny little vacuum (no kidding) to extract the wax that was keeping that water in. Same deal again now. So I can hear this water sloshing around in my head, like a corked bottle. It fits the general atmospheric theme of dampness. I hopefully have an appointment tomorrow to get this taken care of, because the sloshing is disturbing (I am actively trying not to think about it because it really bothers me, so I should stop writing about it) and shouldn't be left like this. Know that, kids - sometimes it doesn't clear up on its own.
But there's something poetic about being personally as waterlogged as the environment.
22 June 2009
insipid fiction
Tired of being accused of being "elitist" because I like music that is actually good (Taylor Swift's music is quality because she's POPULAR with lots of little girls? I don't think so), and books that are actually good, as opposed to whatever is spoon-fed to the masses, I was very happy to read this article in the current issue of Esquire about how a "beach read" is probably not actually worth your while because, well, because it's CRAP:
I've never read a novel by Nicholas Sparks for the same reason I've never seen a movie starring Ashton Kutcher: because I'm stupid, yeah, but I'm not that stupid. But the problem with avoiding stupid books is that you end up avoiding the books that people actually read. This makes you feel out of touch. Like one of those elitist wimps whom fat guys on the radio are always making fun of.
So I read some of them: Relentless, by Dean Koontz (Bantam); Long Lost, by Harlan Coben (Dutton); and First Family, by David Baldacci (Grand Central). And it hurt. Since I'm never going to do it again, and since I don't recommend that anybody else try this shit at home, here's what I learned from reading these stupid books.
1. The world is batshit insane. One of the complaints that gets leveled against contemporary literary fiction is that nothing happens. Rich girls stare out windows and think sad thoughts. Old men stare at rich girls and think sad thoughts.
On the other hand, in Koontz's Relentless, the nation's most prominent book reviewer (huh?) is a serial killer in a bow tie, and major plots hinge on the ability of dogs to teleport. Coben's significantly more credible effort features the diabolic interplay of cord blood and Islamic jihad, while Baldacci busies himself with a First Lady who is also… well, I don't want to ruin it.
21 June 2009
SF wrap-up and musings
I've been meaning to write, but as usual feeling bound up and restricted. Also, the constant stream of searchers for two old and random topics that I mentioned once is getting kinda annoying. I wish I could put a "sign on the door" or some electronic equivalent, saying that there's nothing to see here. See, right now I'm not mentioning them because that will start up another flurry. Though the searchers for those two things are pretty steady. Bah. Maybe if I combined the two and created an ugly holiday sweater with the lyrics to the song on it, I could create a gen-u-ine internet sensation!
I went to SF for the board retreat for [musical organization]. It was a good chance for 17 of the 19 of us (scattered across the country) to get to know each other or get reacquainted, and to get through a daunting agenda. We got through it all in 2 days, 3 locations. There's so much good stuff going on there. I did feel a bit out of sorts because I'm just not comfortable in groups for hours at a time at such intensity, esp when I don't know some of them. And because I'm not sure I'm contributing enough. I am responsible for all the content on the website, and that's a substantial job, but somehow, in comparison to the super-humans who comprise this board, doesn't seem like so much. It's a young organization, as the oldest person on the board is 45. That makes me the second-to-oldest. Hey kids, hand me my walker and my denture cream!
I stayed w/someone (separate from the organization) I'd never met before, but do some work for (we have other connections, too). He had offered, so I accepted. I always think, when I get myself into these types of situations, that they're not the types of things that someone of my age would normally be doing. I mean, if I had a spouse and a family, I wouldn't be traipsing off to spend 5 days with some guy I don't know. Depending on your perspective, that's either cool, dangerous, or just weird. But he's a really nice guy, so easy to talk to, smart, and very very good looking. Like, model good looking. And seemingly unaware of it. And straight. And single. And it makes me very very sad that I can't even consider that someone like him would be interested in me because of my weight. I'm a little older than him, but I don't think that's nearly as much of an issue as the weight. Fuck that. It bothers me every second of every day. And makes me sadder than I can ever put into words. I mean, here's this incredibly good looking guy, and I have just rule myself out from the get-go. Have no clue what he thought because he didn't make it obvious and I didn't bring it up. I hate that my default position is now that men just aren't interested. Actually, the whole trip was filled with attractive guys. On the board, others I knew and saw...I'm not complaining, but some actual contact woulda made it that much better.
I did see a dietitian for the first time the week before last. Like WW, the changes she's suggesting are incremental and obvious. Let's see if I can do them. I know that my cumulative health problems must be tackled and are worse than I've allowed myself to acknowledge, mostly because I think of myself as healthy.
Back to SF - I did see some other people outside of the retreat, went to the stunning Marin Headlands, saw my stepmother's brother David for sushi and jazz @ Yoshi's, tried to suss out the city some more. And? Still not sure. It still just feels big and block-y to me. Being able to look down a long, straight road, and see it go forever. I don't like that. You don't really get that in NYC. I wouldn't live in the city itself. But it is beautiful.
When did I become this person? Someone who is simultaneously reading 15 books. I used to read one book at a time, and finish it. Now I have about 15 going, and I'll get through them, I just don't know when. When did I become someone who has more than one inbox with emails that need responses? I used to get all that done as it came in. When did I become the person who, just the other day, had a visceral, aching desire to BE SOMEONE ELSE, because it feels like it's all over for me, all my chances are gone. Fact is, I've gotten so much bad news lately (significantly bad news), at least a few bits of bad news a day, that I've become numb to it. I expect nothing else. I used to. Now I don't. I can't. I want change, I want it better, I know so many amazing people...can't seem to pull it together for myself, though.
I went to SF for the board retreat for [musical organization]. It was a good chance for 17 of the 19 of us (scattered across the country) to get to know each other or get reacquainted, and to get through a daunting agenda. We got through it all in 2 days, 3 locations. There's so much good stuff going on there. I did feel a bit out of sorts because I'm just not comfortable in groups for hours at a time at such intensity, esp when I don't know some of them. And because I'm not sure I'm contributing enough. I am responsible for all the content on the website, and that's a substantial job, but somehow, in comparison to the super-humans who comprise this board, doesn't seem like so much. It's a young organization, as the oldest person on the board is 45. That makes me the second-to-oldest. Hey kids, hand me my walker and my denture cream!I stayed w/someone (separate from the organization) I'd never met before, but do some work for (we have other connections, too). He had offered, so I accepted. I always think, when I get myself into these types of situations, that they're not the types of things that someone of my age would normally be doing. I mean, if I had a spouse and a family, I wouldn't be traipsing off to spend 5 days with some guy I don't know. Depending on your perspective, that's either cool, dangerous, or just weird. But he's a really nice guy, so easy to talk to, smart, and very very good looking. Like, model good looking. And seemingly unaware of it. And straight. And single. And it makes me very very sad that I can't even consider that someone like him would be interested in me because of my weight. I'm a little older than him, but I don't think that's nearly as much of an issue as the weight. Fuck that. It bothers me every second of every day. And makes me sadder than I can ever put into words. I mean, here's this incredibly good looking guy, and I have just rule myself out from the get-go. Have no clue what he thought because he didn't make it obvious and I didn't bring it up. I hate that my default position is now that men just aren't interested. Actually, the whole trip was filled with attractive guys. On the board, others I knew and saw...I'm not complaining, but some actual contact woulda made it that much better.
I did see a dietitian for the first time the week before last. Like WW, the changes she's suggesting are incremental and obvious. Let's see if I can do them. I know that my cumulative health problems must be tackled and are worse than I've allowed myself to acknowledge, mostly because I think of myself as healthy.
Back to SF - I did see some other people outside of the retreat, went to the stunning Marin Headlands, saw my stepmother's brother David for sushi and jazz @ Yoshi's, tried to suss out the city some more. And? Still not sure. It still just feels big and block-y to me. Being able to look down a long, straight road, and see it go forever. I don't like that. You don't really get that in NYC. I wouldn't live in the city itself. But it is beautiful.
When did I become this person? Someone who is simultaneously reading 15 books. I used to read one book at a time, and finish it. Now I have about 15 going, and I'll get through them, I just don't know when. When did I become someone who has more than one inbox with emails that need responses? I used to get all that done as it came in. When did I become the person who, just the other day, had a visceral, aching desire to BE SOMEONE ELSE, because it feels like it's all over for me, all my chances are gone. Fact is, I've gotten so much bad news lately (significantly bad news), at least a few bits of bad news a day, that I've become numb to it. I expect nothing else. I used to. Now I don't. I can't. I want change, I want it better, I know so many amazing people...can't seem to pull it together for myself, though.
01 June 2009
that sure was pretty
This has definitely been one of the oddest days I think I've ever had. Started with me singing with a few other people for a few hundred kids at 7:45am. I am usually not awake at 7:45am, let alone capable of singing. But we only had to sing one song; it was fine.
Drove to the city for a doctor's appointment. Drove back.
Later in the afternoon included lots of very upsetting conversation, lots of me crying and distraught. Therapy after that (the two just coincided).
Then I'm instant messaged by a guy I know, a college professor at a prestigious college on the east coast. This guy is very much the professor type: quiet, radiates intellect, articulate and often seen in suits. Formal. We've never IM'd before, but he had a question about a meeting, so he contacted me. Mentions that he's just finished driving across the country, where he'll be for his sabbatical. He was just asked to take some pictures of himself for a friend's art/photo project, and that they needed to be "artsy". I let that sink in for a moment and then asked what "artsy" meant. Oh, nude shots, it turns out. So of course I asked to see them because...I like me some nude guys. What the hell.
And these pictures...unbelievable. Who knew the quiet professor had all that under there? Dude is cut, and very well endowed. You'd never know. The conversation got more graphic. And he sent me a bunch of pictures. I asked what lucky ladies would be partaking in this glory out west? He said noone right now, sadly. But ladies of (western town), you have a fabulous surprise waiting for you, if you can spot it beneath the suits and the demeanor. Because there's a whole other guy there that I never knew existed. And that's pretty fucking cool.
Nothing else has changed circumstantially, but that conversation and those pictures sure did brighten my day.
Getting ready to go to SF on Thurs. A few days of intensive board retreat, staying with a guy I've never met in person but do work for (also: HOT), hoping to see some others and reacquaint myself with the city.
Drove to the city for a doctor's appointment. Drove back.
Later in the afternoon included lots of very upsetting conversation, lots of me crying and distraught. Therapy after that (the two just coincided).
Then I'm instant messaged by a guy I know, a college professor at a prestigious college on the east coast. This guy is very much the professor type: quiet, radiates intellect, articulate and often seen in suits. Formal. We've never IM'd before, but he had a question about a meeting, so he contacted me. Mentions that he's just finished driving across the country, where he'll be for his sabbatical. He was just asked to take some pictures of himself for a friend's art/photo project, and that they needed to be "artsy". I let that sink in for a moment and then asked what "artsy" meant. Oh, nude shots, it turns out. So of course I asked to see them because...I like me some nude guys. What the hell.
And these pictures...unbelievable. Who knew the quiet professor had all that under there? Dude is cut, and very well endowed. You'd never know. The conversation got more graphic. And he sent me a bunch of pictures. I asked what lucky ladies would be partaking in this glory out west? He said noone right now, sadly. But ladies of (western town), you have a fabulous surprise waiting for you, if you can spot it beneath the suits and the demeanor. Because there's a whole other guy there that I never knew existed. And that's pretty fucking cool.
Nothing else has changed circumstantially, but that conversation and those pictures sure did brighten my day.
Getting ready to go to SF on Thurs. A few days of intensive board retreat, staying with a guy I've never met in person but do work for (also: HOT), hoping to see some others and reacquaint myself with the city.
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