I'm afraid I've been terribly lax in all areas blog-related lately. UH-OH! But, after getting reprimanded by someone for not updating, I'm back. Oh yes, I'm back.
Here are some interesting, semi-interesting, and uninteresting things that happened to me lately:
-I got a new job. It's at a craft store in my neighborhood, the kind of place where you can come in and make stuff off a list of established crafts. It's also got stuff for sale in the front. It's completely awesome, run by two wonderful women, and I'm loving working there. Sometimes, I sit and make crafts all day. And get paid. Two days ago, I changed a few lightbulbs, mopped the floor, and then....made a huge snowglobe containing a scene of a horse and pig kissing, walking across a bridge made of spools of thread. What?! It's great, and I'm really happy to have it.
-I got another new half-a-job. Meaning, I was subbing at my friend's babysitting job for a few weeks. In this time, I heard a four-year-old quote Seinfeld, I got bitten, and I was told "I'm going to burn you to a skeleton. And then I'm going to melt your bones." (The kid who told me this wasn't the kid I was actually sitting for. "My" kid, on hearing this threat, said "But I don't even know how to get home from here!")
-I went to Philadelphia for the first time for the Keystone Convention. It was a lot of fun, and I want to go back to Philly to get to actually see the city-- these singing things don't ever really allow for much else.
-Something I sent in to Found Magazine online a long time ago was the Find of the Day yesterday! I loved reading the ridiculous comments. Here it is. People actually did a little Google detective work and found out some cool stuff about it, which I really did enjoy reading.
-Yesterday, I got stuck in the subway with a car full of Aussie Idiotarod participants, covered in eggs, dressed like priests. Ahhh, home.
-I've been slowly working through the first season of Dexter. At first, I could barely watch it because I hated his sister on the show (now his real-life wife, UGH)....but I accepted my dislike and now I'm *really* liking it. I love rooting for someone so amoral. Last winter was when I worked through Carnivale, and though Dexter is no Carnivale, it's good to have a tv show waiting to make me stay up much later than I intend to. Though Michael C. Hall's unnaturally pink lips on occasion unnerve me.
-I passed the 1,000-friend mark on Facebook. How did that happen?
-I saw a terrific show at PS 122-- Pan Pan's "The Crumb Trail." Super weird, way more avant-garde than I can even handle, sort of, but really compelling and exciting. Pan Pan is a really hip Irish company that's been around for 16 years or so. One of the coolest/ most awkard aspects of this show was that one of the actors in it also wrote "Improbably Frequency," that musical that I'm so taken with. I was at PS 122 with one of my coworkers, who prompted me to introduce myself to the company-- I did, and sputtered out such an awkward tale of obsession to this poor man about his musical....he took it like a gentleman, but I was red in the face before it was over. "Uh, oh, yeah, I, uh--I saw your show at 59E59, but I also saw it at the Abbey, yeah, like four years ago? Is that when it was? Um, but anyway---" ad nauseum. Seeing the show made me want to go to Ireland.
-I was also casting my mind back to more British Isles theatre-- the space where we sang in Philadelphia was RIPE for a Shunt Collective-style peripatetic ghosty play. Give me money! I will do cool things, New York!
It's clear that I've moved solidly into the "uninteresting" category here, so I'll stop. But let's hope I'm better about writing in February.
Showing posts with label singing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label singing. Show all posts
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Monday, September 22, 2008
Huggin' necks, shakin' hands.
What do we want?
NYCADS!
When do we want it?
NOWCADS!
Mmmm....right. NYCADS is the New York City All-Day Singing (as certain readers of this blog already know, I have a fondness for acronym-izing anything that I can, including but not limited to WTTAN).
Anyway, the singing extravaganza was this weekend, and what a good time it was. Never a dull moment. The singers started rolling into town on Friday, and come Friday afternoon, my apartment was hosting a plain-dressing woman (part of the River Brethren...sect? Faith? I don't know. They're sort of like Mennonites. I hope no one googles River Brethren and gets directed here and leaves me nasty comments) and Matt, the maker of a documentary on Sacred Harp. Aldo and I rounded out this odd quartet and spent a few hours sort of entertaining... I went to work until midnight and then slept at Emma's in E. Wburg, as my bed was being slept in by an out-of-town guest (and kickass lady), Judy. I miss what was apparently a really exciting and good singing school taught by Richard DeLong and Judy Caudle. Whatever.
Saturday morning: I was supposed to get to the singing at 9, as I was head of the 'welcoming committee' (I AM very welcoming) and had to set up nametags and registration cards and such. Ryan was going to be my second, so we made plans the night before to coordinate our travel so neither would have to endure the long G-train ride alone; we took matters into our own hands and decided to ride bikes. We met at the Graham stop at 8.20 am and took off. I was a little apprehensive because I'm so out of shape and didn't really trust that I could get there unscathed, but Ryan was confident in our combined ability. Let it be said that he has an actual bike that he rides all over-- as opposed to mine, which is thirty years old and weighs about fifty pounds and is constantly falling apart in different ways. Things went just fine until we got to Fort Greene and I got a FLAT TIRE. That's never ever ever ever happened to me, in all my years of riding bikes, ever. Fuck you, Fort Greene! After three minutes of ranting, we took notice of the time, renewed our vigor by thinking of all the singing that awaited us, and started trudging towards Hicks Street. After five minutes, Ryan gently suggested that it might be faster if he carried my dead bike and I rolled his. Sadly, he was right. I am, in the words of Sven Ugendugen, a 'puny weakling.' We made several wrong turns, sweated and cursed a lot, but got to the church only fifteen minutes after our desired time of arrival...dirty and sweaty and discombobulated. It was a very unexpected 'adventure,' to say the least.
The singing was really great. Dinner was lovely, with more than enough food. Ollie Stokes was honored that I made a coconut cake with him in mind, and ate about six pieces. Greg was given a farewell card, at which point I got teary-eyed and had to think about something other than him moving, or now, the fact that as I write this, he's halfway across the country. I don't like that one bit. Afterwards there was a lot of cleanup, then a listening party for Matt's new CD, and a little composium, at which I was starting to get a little post-singing hysterical and was of no use to anyone. Then we spent half an hour tying my dead bike onto the roof of Greg's car so I wouldn't have to take it on the subway, which was amazing. So much chivalry in one day; I should have bike disasters more often. (I can't neglect to mention a previous Herculean effort when another gallant maneuvered the cumbrous Schwinn up the narrow tenement staircase of my building. It proves my point again!)
More jollity followed later-- eating street food/trying to keep up with Matt Hinton's hilarious sense of humor with Justin, Ben, and Ryan; playing stupid games and putting on wigs; lots and lots of geeking out; Sacred Harps dorks drinking. Blah blah blah. Slept at Emma's again, and managed to see her for all of five minutes.
Sunday was the monthly singing at St. Bart's, which, like last year, was populated by a lot of holdovers from the All-Day, which was terrific. Justin and I led "Sweet Affliction," which contains the words "In the floods of tribulation/While the billows o'er me roll..." Lauren maintains that I said "While the 'dillos o'er me roll" and the (cutest ever) image of armadillos curling up and rolling over me while I'm sleeping was born. Things wrapped up, and as Hugh McGraw says, we were all huggin' necks and shakin' hands. Greg left for good. Lauren, Ryan and I went to drink our sorrows away at Jimmy's Corner, and then at her house with Jesse and Judy. Sacred Harp gossip, geeking out, drinking, until midnight. Sometimes I am slightly overwhelmed by how weird and wonderful my life gets when I'm Sacred Harp singing.
But now, the party's over; Greg's in Oregon, Jesse and Lauren are back in Troy, the Boston gang is long-gone.
I guess I had other stuff to talk about, but this is pushing it. I'll stop here, with this admonition from the hallways of St. Bart's.
NYCADS!
When do we want it?
NOWCADS!
Mmmm....right. NYCADS is the New York City All-Day Singing (as certain readers of this blog already know, I have a fondness for acronym-izing anything that I can, including but not limited to WTTAN).
Anyway, the singing extravaganza was this weekend, and what a good time it was. Never a dull moment. The singers started rolling into town on Friday, and come Friday afternoon, my apartment was hosting a plain-dressing woman (part of the River Brethren...sect? Faith? I don't know. They're sort of like Mennonites. I hope no one googles River Brethren and gets directed here and leaves me nasty comments) and Matt, the maker of a documentary on Sacred Harp. Aldo and I rounded out this odd quartet and spent a few hours sort of entertaining... I went to work until midnight and then slept at Emma's in E. Wburg, as my bed was being slept in by an out-of-town guest (and kickass lady), Judy. I miss what was apparently a really exciting and good singing school taught by Richard DeLong and Judy Caudle. Whatever.
Saturday morning: I was supposed to get to the singing at 9, as I was head of the 'welcoming committee' (I AM very welcoming) and had to set up nametags and registration cards and such. Ryan was going to be my second, so we made plans the night before to coordinate our travel so neither would have to endure the long G-train ride alone; we took matters into our own hands and decided to ride bikes. We met at the Graham stop at 8.20 am and took off. I was a little apprehensive because I'm so out of shape and didn't really trust that I could get there unscathed, but Ryan was confident in our combined ability. Let it be said that he has an actual bike that he rides all over-- as opposed to mine, which is thirty years old and weighs about fifty pounds and is constantly falling apart in different ways. Things went just fine until we got to Fort Greene and I got a FLAT TIRE. That's never ever ever ever happened to me, in all my years of riding bikes, ever. Fuck you, Fort Greene! After three minutes of ranting, we took notice of the time, renewed our vigor by thinking of all the singing that awaited us, and started trudging towards Hicks Street. After five minutes, Ryan gently suggested that it might be faster if he carried my dead bike and I rolled his. Sadly, he was right. I am, in the words of Sven Ugendugen, a 'puny weakling.' We made several wrong turns, sweated and cursed a lot, but got to the church only fifteen minutes after our desired time of arrival...dirty and sweaty and discombobulated. It was a very unexpected 'adventure,' to say the least.
The singing was really great. Dinner was lovely, with more than enough food. Ollie Stokes was honored that I made a coconut cake with him in mind, and ate about six pieces. Greg was given a farewell card, at which point I got teary-eyed and had to think about something other than him moving, or now, the fact that as I write this, he's halfway across the country. I don't like that one bit. Afterwards there was a lot of cleanup, then a listening party for Matt's new CD, and a little composium, at which I was starting to get a little post-singing hysterical and was of no use to anyone. Then we spent half an hour tying my dead bike onto the roof of Greg's car so I wouldn't have to take it on the subway, which was amazing. So much chivalry in one day; I should have bike disasters more often. (I can't neglect to mention a previous Herculean effort when another gallant maneuvered the cumbrous Schwinn up the narrow tenement staircase of my building. It proves my point again!)
More jollity followed later-- eating street food/trying to keep up with Matt Hinton's hilarious sense of humor with Justin, Ben, and Ryan; playing stupid games and putting on wigs; lots and lots of geeking out; Sacred Harps dorks drinking. Blah blah blah. Slept at Emma's again, and managed to see her for all of five minutes.
Sunday was the monthly singing at St. Bart's, which, like last year, was populated by a lot of holdovers from the All-Day, which was terrific. Justin and I led "Sweet Affliction," which contains the words "In the floods of tribulation/While the billows o'er me roll..." Lauren maintains that I said "While the 'dillos o'er me roll" and the (cutest ever) image of armadillos curling up and rolling over me while I'm sleeping was born. Things wrapped up, and as Hugh McGraw says, we were all huggin' necks and shakin' hands. Greg left for good. Lauren, Ryan and I went to drink our sorrows away at Jimmy's Corner, and then at her house with Jesse and Judy. Sacred Harp gossip, geeking out, drinking, until midnight. Sometimes I am slightly overwhelmed by how weird and wonderful my life gets when I'm Sacred Harp singing.
But now, the party's over; Greg's in Oregon, Jesse and Lauren are back in Troy, the Boston gang is long-gone.
I guess I had other stuff to talk about, but this is pushing it. I'll stop here, with this admonition from the hallways of St. Bart's.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Third eyes, trips, and TWO TINY DOGS JUST RAN BY
The other day at work, one of my favorite co-workers was talking about of friend of his from home, Japan, who sometimes 'can't go outside because his third eye is too open and it's too hard for him...he sees demons on the street and bad stuff everywhere and he can't handle it.' This was met with derision by my Israeli co-worker (who ardently believes in astrology, incidentally) but I was super into. What makes me think of this is mostly the fact that I, too, have a third eye. It is located below my left ear. I can't see out of it--YET--but it's getting there. I'll update you later.
I venture down South tomorrow! I finished packing this afternoon after much hemming and hawing and obsessing. Of course the part that took the longest was picking out the jewelry. Of course. I am taking the SuperShuttle (how super could it be? My mind turns to Arrested Development, and Tobias-- "Why would I take a limo, when for only twelve dollars I can get to the airport in this van?" to "Are you kidding, another stop?! I paid twelve American dollars for this ride!") from Union Square tomorrow and hopefully I'll get to the airport with plenty of time, etcetera. I printed out my ticket and, allegedly, my boarding pass for tomorrow, so hopefully the process will be somewhat expedited tomorrow. We'll see. From there it's a lot of schlepping, carpooling and then getting to camp at some point in the early evening, sitting down to the first camp dinner at 6:00, and then we're off. I can't believe I'm doing this. This whole thing is sort of insane. I was saying to someone today that I'm not sure when I got so nervous about traveling. I traveled so much by myself when I was abroad-- it wasn't easy as pie, but I managed just fine in Prague, Budapest, all around Scotland....planes, buses, trains. I was stressed then-- and maybe I was as stressed as I have been and just don't remember.
Anyway, one way or another, it's all going to work out and I think it's really going to be good. I was advised to avoid the following things in New Orleans-- some of them are going to be harder than others: vampires, floods (too soon?), inbreeding, teeth tattoos (that's tattoos ON my teeth-- I'm not sure about tattoos OF teeth)... we'll see what happens. And I'm so excited to see Jacob in his (new) element! And of course anticipating stuffing myself to the gills with really delicious food.
This trip. Hoo boy.
I am at work right now....for two and a half more hours. Doing. Nothing. Nothing. Going. On. So. Ridiculous.
Alright, I have to finish up intarweb stuff because I'll be without a computer for a week ("Just like the old days!" says friend...I feel like I'm going back in time in more ways than one. I literally am, I suppose!). I want to put a goofy vacation response up on my gmail but am afraid that Hollywood will come calling and be met with "I'm down South, wearing a frumpy outfit, avoiding conversion!" So we'll see.
Says my West Village-dwelling coworker:
"Gay Day and Halloween. They are the worst."
Goodbye until the 11th of July! Expect pictures and more than you'll want to read when I get back.
I venture down South tomorrow! I finished packing this afternoon after much hemming and hawing and obsessing. Of course the part that took the longest was picking out the jewelry. Of course. I am taking the SuperShuttle (how super could it be? My mind turns to Arrested Development, and Tobias-- "Why would I take a limo, when for only twelve dollars I can get to the airport in this van?" to "Are you kidding, another stop?! I paid twelve American dollars for this ride!") from Union Square tomorrow and hopefully I'll get to the airport with plenty of time, etcetera. I printed out my ticket and, allegedly, my boarding pass for tomorrow, so hopefully the process will be somewhat expedited tomorrow. We'll see. From there it's a lot of schlepping, carpooling and then getting to camp at some point in the early evening, sitting down to the first camp dinner at 6:00, and then we're off. I can't believe I'm doing this. This whole thing is sort of insane. I was saying to someone today that I'm not sure when I got so nervous about traveling. I traveled so much by myself when I was abroad-- it wasn't easy as pie, but I managed just fine in Prague, Budapest, all around Scotland....planes, buses, trains. I was stressed then-- and maybe I was as stressed as I have been and just don't remember.
Anyway, one way or another, it's all going to work out and I think it's really going to be good. I was advised to avoid the following things in New Orleans-- some of them are going to be harder than others: vampires, floods (too soon?), inbreeding, teeth tattoos (that's tattoos ON my teeth-- I'm not sure about tattoos OF teeth)... we'll see what happens. And I'm so excited to see Jacob in his (new) element! And of course anticipating stuffing myself to the gills with really delicious food.
This trip. Hoo boy.
I am at work right now....for two and a half more hours. Doing. Nothing. Nothing. Going. On. So. Ridiculous.
Alright, I have to finish up intarweb stuff because I'll be without a computer for a week ("Just like the old days!" says friend...I feel like I'm going back in time in more ways than one. I literally am, I suppose!). I want to put a goofy vacation response up on my gmail but am afraid that Hollywood will come calling and be met with "I'm down South, wearing a frumpy outfit, avoiding conversion!" So we'll see.
Says my West Village-dwelling coworker:
"Gay Day and Halloween. They are the worst."
Goodbye until the 11th of July! Expect pictures and more than you'll want to read when I get back.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
when they made you, how they made you.
I feel out of control of myself. This morning, I slept until 11:30, but before that, I kept waking up and seeing that it was getting late and berating myself (out loud, mind you) about staying in bed so late. Obviously there's something going on.
Last night I went to the Parkside Lounge to see Greg, Lauren, and Zeke play some old-time music. They were wonderful! I saw a few other friends, mostly singing friends, and had one of those surges of feeling that I sometimes get where I realize how happy I am to have all these talented, quirky, wonderful, kind friends. And that if singing is where I found them, that I'm very happy I found singing.
(Speaking of singing, the night before last was spent in an epic Karaoke Revolution: American Idol fest at Erin's apartment. I killed Tainted Love and Bohemian Rhapdsody...but let's just say that I didn't know Sweet Dreams nearly as well as I thought. And My Heart Will Go On is literally the worst song ever written.)
I also saw Andy last night, which is always nice. I went to his penthouse (I wish it was a joke) to pick up a suitcase he schlepped from Schenec for me. The trip from the LES to the Upper West Side is one I'm glad I don't have to make an any sort of regular basis. I finally met the infamous and elusive Chris, Andy's Sondheim-snob roommate. We didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on things, namely Borat and Johnny Depp....and Jane Krakowski and the WSS revival that is going to change my life and many, many other things. Andy and I drank beer, looked at pictures, and closed the night on a high note by watching the one and only surviving clip from the BRTC's Crucible that's on YouTube. Which is always good for some hysterical laughter.
Tonight, Erin and I are seeing Apollo Sunshine in Wburg. I haven't seen them since, I think, last September. They rarely play in NY because they're too busy living on a farm in Leverett. I love them.
Now, if only I can not feel so illogically sad!
I'm going to swim later and take a walk, I think. Hopefully that'll do something to work it out of my system. It's going on a three days, now, so I'm about ready to be done with it.
Oh, and I finished The World According to Garp. I loved it and now of course I want to see the movie. I am simultaneously horrified and fascinated by who plays Garp.
Psh. That's all.
Last night I went to the Parkside Lounge to see Greg, Lauren, and Zeke play some old-time music. They were wonderful! I saw a few other friends, mostly singing friends, and had one of those surges of feeling that I sometimes get where I realize how happy I am to have all these talented, quirky, wonderful, kind friends. And that if singing is where I found them, that I'm very happy I found singing.
(Speaking of singing, the night before last was spent in an epic Karaoke Revolution: American Idol fest at Erin's apartment. I killed Tainted Love and Bohemian Rhapdsody...but let's just say that I didn't know Sweet Dreams nearly as well as I thought. And My Heart Will Go On is literally the worst song ever written.)
I also saw Andy last night, which is always nice. I went to his penthouse (I wish it was a joke) to pick up a suitcase he schlepped from Schenec for me. The trip from the LES to the Upper West Side is one I'm glad I don't have to make an any sort of regular basis. I finally met the infamous and elusive Chris, Andy's Sondheim-snob roommate. We didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on things, namely Borat and Johnny Depp....and Jane Krakowski and the WSS revival that is going to change my life and many, many other things. Andy and I drank beer, looked at pictures, and closed the night on a high note by watching the one and only surviving clip from the BRTC's Crucible that's on YouTube. Which is always good for some hysterical laughter.
Tonight, Erin and I are seeing Apollo Sunshine in Wburg. I haven't seen them since, I think, last September. They rarely play in NY because they're too busy living on a farm in Leverett. I love them.
Now, if only I can not feel so illogically sad!
I'm going to swim later and take a walk, I think. Hopefully that'll do something to work it out of my system. It's going on a three days, now, so I'm about ready to be done with it.
Oh, and I finished The World According to Garp. I loved it and now of course I want to see the movie. I am simultaneously horrified and fascinated by who plays Garp.
Psh. That's all.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
The Big Shakeup
Exciting news today-- new candy at work! 100 Grand, Oh Henry!, Raisinets, Goobers.....lots more to stuff my gaping maw with. Will the joy never end?
I am in a state of agitated confusion. I have the opportunity to stage manage a group of four shows that run for a weekend in November. Other things I have to do in November are: see Tasia's show in Boston, and hopefully go to the Berkshire foothills all-day singing. I also have to make a living. This is the hardest part.
If I decide to work on the shows, my schedule will get very very very tight and I'll probably have to race around like a lunatic for two and a half weeks. I'll probably be cranky and tired all the time. But I will also probably meet some awesome people (they already seem super cool) that could be possible collaborators. And don't I always try to believe that if I wait until I'm ready, I'll never do anything?
I guess the solution is maybe to cut down a little on everything. Like, I could maybe not go away to sing....even though I really want to. I NEED to see Tasia's show-- it isn't an option. I would feel so bad if I didn't, AND I really want to.
I don't know. No matter what I do, I'm not going to get to do all the things I want to do, AND I'm not going to make as much money as I want to make. So if I accept that now, shouldn't it be okay?
To close....dictionary.com's word of the day is awesome today:
ensorcell \en-SOR-suhl\, transitive verb: To enchant; to bewitch.
I am in a state of agitated confusion. I have the opportunity to stage manage a group of four shows that run for a weekend in November. Other things I have to do in November are: see Tasia's show in Boston, and hopefully go to the Berkshire foothills all-day singing. I also have to make a living. This is the hardest part.
If I decide to work on the shows, my schedule will get very very very tight and I'll probably have to race around like a lunatic for two and a half weeks. I'll probably be cranky and tired all the time. But I will also probably meet some awesome people (they already seem super cool) that could be possible collaborators. And don't I always try to believe that if I wait until I'm ready, I'll never do anything?
I guess the solution is maybe to cut down a little on everything. Like, I could maybe not go away to sing....even though I really want to. I NEED to see Tasia's show-- it isn't an option. I would feel so bad if I didn't, AND I really want to.
I don't know. No matter what I do, I'm not going to get to do all the things I want to do, AND I'm not going to make as much money as I want to make. So if I accept that now, shouldn't it be okay?
To close....dictionary.com's word of the day is awesome today:
ensorcell \en-SOR-suhl\, transitive verb: To enchant; to bewitch.
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