Putting old family VHS vids onto my computer to edit them together. So far, my favorite part may be my dad sitting and telling extraordinarily dirty jokes to the camera and his friends. I figured I must have been asleep by then. But here is part of the transcript:
Dad: So, there was this young couple, innocent to say the least, wondering what to do on their wedding night. They asked around and... Me: ...Daddy! Daddy, look! Dad: [annoyed] Yes, sweetie? Me: Look Daddy, the baby Jesus! Dad: You have the baby Jesus there? OK. So anyway, they go on and get to their wedding night and they decided they were going to try something called "giving head"!
And so on. Hilariously inappropriate.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Mozart the dog didn't seem to like stairs when I first got him. I had to carry him up three stories to my apartment the first night. Eventually I got him to go up one flight and rewarded him with his favorite thing--hugs and kisses. So he started going up the stairs one section at a time, coming to a landing and turning around to beam at me, waiting for his favorite thing. I started weaning him off the positive reinforcement by only giving him hugs at each floor, rather than the in-between landings. I would say "one more! One more!" at the halfway point. But sometimes we would just stay at the landing and look over the edge for a while. Or he would put his little paws up on my legs and smile at me.
Dogs are stupid. But lovable.
This was going to be a metaphor for something, but I realize it doesn't really work. But being in New Orleans kind of feels like being at that landing...there's this residual feeling I have like I'm about to get my favorite thing, and it doesn't even matter that all I end up doing is vaguely looking over the edge. It's always a waypoint for me when I'm here, now more so than other times, since I'm indefinitely unemployed. And employment could lead me anyway (this is one way in which the metaphor doesn't work--Mozart always ended up at my apartment at the end of the exercise). Well, I've ruled out a few places I want the next leg of the journey to take me:
Anywhere in Texas but Austin
The Eastern seaboard of the USA
Anywhere in Louisiana but New Orleans
Things I can do with my unemployment:
Learn to play saxophone
Hang out with K--
Paint a picture
Write a song
Read a book (gotta start small)
Sell all my belongings
Things I can do in New Orleans:
Work on Illyria costume
Work on home videos and photos digitizing project
Center myself
Try not to watch a lot of TV
But do watch Dollhouse because my parents recorded the two episodes I haven't seen yet
Review CDs (some for KOOP and some for KVRX)
Stain all the towels with my red hair
Take the cats for walks in the backyard. They are so good.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
When you touched a friend of mine I thought I would lose my mind But I found out with time that Really I was not ready
I've had a new resolution lately, to not let any reference I don't understand go unGoogled. There is no reason not to remain ignorant when there is Wikipedia at the ready.
I've learned so much! I hope I can remember it enough to casually mention some factoids at a party. Some things I've learned about that you might already have known.
Lemuria, a mythical Atlantis-like continent that was supposedly in the Indian Ocean, partly inspired the Pixies' song Velouria.
Vic Chesnutt, singer of my new favorite song "Flirted With You All My Life" is a paraplegic (cool bio, paraplegia not a focal point). And also that I only discovered this song 3 days after he came to Austin on tour. I would have loved that.
The Akashic records, describes mystical knowledge and is encoded in a non-material plane. I invented this when I was 10--a written book of fate, but written in multiple dimensions, so that if something changes a timeline, it was fated to do that, rather than makes an alternate and parallel timeline. It was complicated. I lost those notebooks in the move to uptown.
The backup/female singer from my new favoritest Canadian band, Immaculate Machine, is also the singer that has more or less replaced Neko Case in the New Pornographers, and is AC Newman's niece. AC stands for Allan Carl.
Australia has compulsory voting for state and federal elections.
Vic Chesnutt, Flirted With You All My Life
Friday, December 11, 2009
This isn't real But I just want to feel
I know. I know. Sorry.
There's an inflatable tacky Santa that always scares the hell out of me as I'm walking to my car. But more than half the time, it's deflated because they forgot to turn it on.
This is how I feel. It's like I'm doing all these things to re-inflate, but there's a puncture somewhere, so it's all just pointless until I can find where I'm broken and fix it.
Radio show tonight. On death and Christmas.
Where Do We Go From Here, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Sometimes when you're going down You're going down no matter what
Have been plagued by a persistent need to NOT document my life lately. Well, there was the massive DH experience email that went out to many of you. But besides that, I am so dissatisfied with my psyche right now, it makes me to want to vomit to even think of writing in my personal journal.
Problematic for keeping a blog.
I am borrowing a saxophone, but I have only successfully made it sound one note. I cleaned my house last night, at long last. I succeeded in putting all my bills, unpaid for months, into a pile, but have not yet succeeded in going online and paying them. I have a $550 therapy bill. Luckily, I have 3 paychecks from 3 different jobs ready to be deposited. I hooked up my central heat because it snowed in Austin (I didn't see it, but so the story goes). I'm almost done with school. I left my cats in New Orleans at Thanksgiving, but I am kind of regretting it--my time at home is painfully lonely, making me resort to Craigslist dates to get me out of the house, but I have minimal standards, so I end up regretting those, too, not to mention I get stood up more than half the time, which shockingly hasn't taken a toll on my self esteem. Yet. I got 2 free cupcakes today, and ate them both (along with the one I paid for). I'm selling a large proportion of my stuff on Craigslist; I need to make room for my January houseguest. I have gotten to round two of a job interview series, as well as to the training portion of an SAT tutoring job. This week, almost every hour of my time is accounted for, much of which will be getting me out of the house. I think I'm going to foster a schnauzer, though, for the 12 days before I go home for Christmas.
There was so much I could have done today, but I just had a ridiculously unproductive day. All I accomplished was getting a refill of Relpax (for the migraine) and getting those cupcakes (for the self-pity). And now, holy crap, it's 2am, and I have work tomorrow. For the week:
Monday: Work, hang with C, see Ziggy Stardust at Alamo Ritz Tuesday: Work, job interview, go to KOOP to start first day of volunteering, doctor's appointment, 5 hours of tutoring training and/or meeting L for dinner. Wednesday: Work, lunch "date" (with friend), 5 hours tutoring training and/or candlelit yoga with J1 Thursday: Crafting day with M and J2, Blue Genie Christmas bazaar with E et al. Friday: Work, yoga+pizza with D, radio show (2 hours) Saturday: Hang with C and her cat, F's birthday party and/or D&D Sunday: Should take today to work on final class project, review CDs, work on Christmas presents, but I get the feeling I will take a pajama day.
Oh.
Immaculate Machine, Blinding Light (from a great album that I can't stop listening to)
Sunday, December 06, 2009
have baby migraine, and no reason to leave the house. think i'm going to throw up, but can't tell if it's from the headache or from boredom. i guess going to get migraine medication is a reason to leave the house. i guess the issue is i have no energy to leave the house. nor to capitalize letters.
Your body may be gone, I'm gonna carry you in. In my head, in my heart, in my soul. And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both live again. Well I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
(click the video below to have the soundtrack to this entry while you read)
We were lucky we got to say goodbye. We were lucky we got to tell him the things we always wanted to. I am lucky I wrote him that letter, and copied him that poem. We were lucky his students wrote him testimonials in time for him to read them. We were lucky he knew we loved him and he was loved by others. We were lucky we knew he loved us. We were lucky he didn't deteriorate over years and years, but rather faded away over a few weeks and then days. We were lucky he died gently, at home, with his family near him. We were lucky it happened Thanksgiving week because we were already together. We were lucky we were together because it was easier to reabsorb the love into the family network we already have.
It doesn't mean we won't miss him for every holiday and every visit to my grandmother's for the rest of our lives.
How do we cope, with the days after a death? Empty days, nothing happens, not even a funeral.
Listening to Jed the Humanoid. How can a song be so silly and so sad?
My grandfather died this morning. It's very sad. He's been sick a while, but it suddenly took a turn for the worse in the last few days. My mom had collected testimonials from his students and he read the ones she had so far Sunday night. I wrote him a letter of all the memories of him and my grandmother that I will keep for forever. We are lucky we could give him these things.
why I felt so alive I might never determine There might be a word to describe it in German
Been busy today. Transcribed the DH full interview, and reworked my statement of purpose for the Russian Fellowship I want to do. And signed a lot of contracts for a freelance transcription job. Transcribing is very satisfying for me. I hope I can do this one within the parameters I quoted.
Home. New Orleans. Martinis. Jeopardy. Work. Impending...bad things. But no sense of forboding just sadness. I'm glad for DH songs to buoy my spirits. I wrote him a note that his songs have saved my life on a number of occasions. Radiohead I should charge with attempted murder.
DH inspires in me a desire to write again. He writes so much. And I could write that much, and maybe find something salvageable and good, and I could remember my moments better. The blog is a forum for certain things, according to my theory, but not for the types of things I wish I better recorded. He also inspires in me a desire to write music again. Or at least play some music, which usually inspires in me a song or two. I was thinking of seeing if my brother would collaborate on a song with me, or if my dad would record me singing one in his studio. Mom has a top of the line ukulele I could use.
made it home to new orleans. transcribing interview. will be doing a lot of work while i'm here. got a freelance transcription job, have to keep up with regular work, have to keep up with schoolwork. ugh.
why am i still up? i'm so close to finished with the interview, but i have to give up now.
