gasp! temperatures plunged to under FORTY DEGREES F over the past couple days, and the result is extremely boring conversations all around me whenever i go out.
"OMG, it's so cold!"
"They say it's gonna snow tonight!"
"I can't wait until winter is over!"
And my least favorite small talk quote: "COLD ENOUGH FOR YA?"
actually, no. no, it isn't. i know i've been enjoying this weather only because i haven't been held hostage to single digit temps + snow storms out east + elsewhere for months now. but there's a certain crispness in the air that we just never get here in SF. mostly we get soggy air. i'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but i like it when winter feels like WINTER.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Classifieds
every now and then i scroll through the part-time job listings on craigslist. here are highlights from today's classifieds:
- Water Cooler Superviso- (this posting simply says: "For only few hours weekly we are offering a one time opportunity.")
- Zombie Scriptwriters Needed
- Child and Grandparent needed to play on a playground for assignment!!!
- Scent Chemist Wanted
- Millwright/Rigger (i don't even know what this means, but the employer is requiring over ten years experience)
- Dog Wrangler
- GOT GOOD GENES?? WHY NOT SHARE?!
- LEGO Engineering Instructor (ooh, ooh, pick me!!!)
- Part-time Wine Samplers ("SKILLS: NEED TO UNDERSTAND THE BASICS OF WINE AND HOW IT INFLUENCES THE WORLD")
- VISITING ANGELS HIRING NOW!! (there's an angel shortage?)
Monday, February 21, 2011
Voicemail Poetry
i'm pretty behind, technology-wise. i have a cell phone, a digital camera, and my 250 MB mp3 player. i have DSL, but only because my roommate is a techie. if he didn't live with me, i'd probably still be going to the library to check my email.
recently, he's been playing with a google thingie that transcribes your voicemails for you and then emails it to you. apparently *listening* to one's voicemails is passe. the results have been entirely inaccurate, but surprisingly poetic. here is one example, reformatted to look like poetry.
recently, he's been playing with a google thingie that transcribes your voicemails for you and then emails it to you. apparently *listening* to one's voicemails is passe. the results have been entirely inaccurate, but surprisingly poetic. here is one example, reformatted to look like poetry.
My anyway.
error. Do you have to.
Doubt I'll see you.
9 to noon,
okay. I will be.
But not good about it man.
But. I am.
Not that listening to live.
It's.
you need me.
I've been in the inner but either alright.
pretty profound, huh? here's the original voicemail, transcribed by me using my *ears*: "hi james, it's me. 8:21 AM. I'll see you after work today so I'll see you for lunch with Kelly, but I'm not sure about Mary. But I'm not sure if we're taking the bus home or if you can take Kelly and me home. Talk to you later, brother. Bye."
i think it's hilarious that Google voice wasn't even able to get the "bye" at the end.
going places alone
a recent convo among friends brought up this topic: do you go places alone? as in: do you eat out in restaurants by yourself? (fast food doesn't count) do you go to the movies by yourself? do you go to shows/concerts by yourself?
for me, the answers to the last three questions are: no, never, and ALL THE TIME. in fact, the shows i go to by myself tend to become highly charged, emotional experiences for me because of how i react to the performers and the intensity of their art: bobby mcferrin with savion glover; and ben folds come to mind immediately. and then i'm glad i'm by myself because i don't have to try to explain the spiritual experience i just had to someone else who probably doesn't feel the same way.
last night and tonight i attended two more shows by myself. both were part of the 7th annual Black Choreographers Festival here in the bay area. i had the privilege of experiencing incredible dancing by both veterans and students of various dance forms. the work of one young artist especially stuck to my bones, and i'd like to share him with you, though i'm not sure if the magic still comes across in youtube. many artists are clearly gifted and skilled in their craft, but only a few resonate with my soul, as if parts of us were stitched out of the same spool of thread. so here he is, my hero of tonight, a long-lost brother in art: jeffrey van sciver
for me, the answers to the last three questions are: no, never, and ALL THE TIME. in fact, the shows i go to by myself tend to become highly charged, emotional experiences for me because of how i react to the performers and the intensity of their art: bobby mcferrin with savion glover; and ben folds come to mind immediately. and then i'm glad i'm by myself because i don't have to try to explain the spiritual experience i just had to someone else who probably doesn't feel the same way.
last night and tonight i attended two more shows by myself. both were part of the 7th annual Black Choreographers Festival here in the bay area. i had the privilege of experiencing incredible dancing by both veterans and students of various dance forms. the work of one young artist especially stuck to my bones, and i'd like to share him with you, though i'm not sure if the magic still comes across in youtube. many artists are clearly gifted and skilled in their craft, but only a few resonate with my soul, as if parts of us were stitched out of the same spool of thread. so here he is, my hero of tonight, a long-lost brother in art: jeffrey van sciver
Rage Against the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra
i don't read books (zero attention span), but i LOVE sunday newspapers. i subscribe to the San Francisco Chronicle and the New York Times. my ideal sundays are spent sprawled on my carpet, surrounded by newspaper sections, sorted into three piles: "serious"- front page, opinion; "fun"- sports, travel, food, arts, comics; and "ads"- coupons + grocery store ads.
today's Chronicle included an article by Joshua Kosman about the Vienna Phil ("Top orchestra must answer for exclusion" ), a group that restricts its repertoire to european classical music- brahms, strauss, mozart, schubert, and company. apparently the secret to preserving the integrity of this fine institution's musical soul consists of reserving its seats for males of european descent (in their photo, everyone looks white). in 1997, they buckled under the winds of change (organized protests during an American tour) and decided to admit women to their roster. oh, the times, they are a-changin.
one musicologist quoted in the article insists that the VPO's policies- while admittedly sexist and racist- are essential for attaining + maintaining the orchestra's caliber. the VPO's conductor, Semyon Bychkov, describes the group's famously viennese sound as "a musically genetic thing".
ok, so i'd never make it into the VPO. i'm curious how long they can maintain their genetic purity in light of the previous century's immigration patterns. how many generations of family members living in europe must a musician have in order to qualify as being "european"? in other words, when will europeans of color become acceptable to this organization?
today's Chronicle included an article by Joshua Kosman about the Vienna Phil ("Top orchestra must answer for exclusion" ), a group that restricts its repertoire to european classical music- brahms, strauss, mozart, schubert, and company. apparently the secret to preserving the integrity of this fine institution's musical soul consists of reserving its seats for males of european descent (in their photo, everyone looks white). in 1997, they buckled under the winds of change (organized protests during an American tour) and decided to admit women to their roster. oh, the times, they are a-changin.
one musicologist quoted in the article insists that the VPO's policies- while admittedly sexist and racist- are essential for attaining + maintaining the orchestra's caliber. the VPO's conductor, Semyon Bychkov, describes the group's famously viennese sound as "a musically genetic thing".
ok, so i'd never make it into the VPO. i'm curious how long they can maintain their genetic purity in light of the previous century's immigration patterns. how many generations of family members living in europe must a musician have in order to qualify as being "european"? in other words, when will europeans of color become acceptable to this organization?
Sunday, February 13, 2011
A Year of Living Google Maps
google maps has been acting all goofy-like on my laptop lately. last week, i entered the address for mills college in oakland, CA, and it spit out directions to saskatoon, which is a dot in saskatchewan county, Canada. 29 hours in a car- that's all? a couple days later i put in an address for a palo alto location, and although the turn-by-turn directions listed in the left hand column were accurate (they ended in palo alto), the map view showed a big fat purple line shooting down into Honduras. my roommate says the purple line is probably accurate, but the map function somehow got messed up so google just superimposed the purple line on the initial north/south american map that comes up when you enter maps.google.com.
maybe the universe is speaking to me through google maps. what would have happened if i'd driven to saskatchewan instead of to my gig at mills college? i wouldn't have gotten paid that day, that's for sure. but i like the idea of a quest, with google maps as my oracle.
maybe the universe is speaking to me through google maps. what would have happened if i'd driven to saskatchewan instead of to my gig at mills college? i wouldn't have gotten paid that day, that's for sure. but i like the idea of a quest, with google maps as my oracle.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
A Year of Living (fill in the blank)
i don't remember when i stopped making new year's resolutions. as a kid i was obsessed with self-improvement, mostly along the lines of wanting desperately to be prettier, skinnier, nicer, a better artist, etc. in fourth grade, i decided to be brutally honest, no matter what. this resolution was abruptly killed when i told a classmate her tights made her legs look fat (in my head, this was completely different than saying she was fat; i was saying the tights were the culprit). she told everyone i had insulted her, which resulted in me getting the silent treatment from a number of fourth grade girls. a valuable lesson in social skills: brutal honesty does not increase your popularity.
these days, i don't have the energy to care about self-improvement. but apparently, millions of other people are still seeking out ways to change themselves so they can be happier/thinner/richer, out of which is born oprah, dr. phil, and an entire section of the bookstore devoted to self-help books. out of curiousity, i typed "year of living" into amazon.com's search box, and came up with:
a year of living your yoga
a year of living consciously: 365 daily inspirations for creating a life of passion + purpose
a year of freeconomic living
1877: america's year of violent living (1877??? really???)
living a year of kaddish
living oprah: my one-year experiment to walk the walk of the queen of talk
the year of living biblically
the year of living shamelessly
and my favorite title: my year of living heterosexually: and other tales from hell
there are so few things i'd be willing to commit to for a year. i started making a mental list:
a year of cleaning the grout in the bathroom tiles twice a week
a year of not buying anymore art supplies until i use up the closet-full of supplies i already have
a week of not picking at my nails (i'm a big believer in realistic goals)
how about you?
these days, i don't have the energy to care about self-improvement. but apparently, millions of other people are still seeking out ways to change themselves so they can be happier/thinner/richer, out of which is born oprah, dr. phil, and an entire section of the bookstore devoted to self-help books. out of curiousity, i typed "year of living" into amazon.com's search box, and came up with:
a year of living your yoga
a year of living consciously: 365 daily inspirations for creating a life of passion + purpose
a year of freeconomic living
1877: america's year of violent living (1877??? really???)
living a year of kaddish
living oprah: my one-year experiment to walk the walk of the queen of talk
the year of living biblically
the year of living shamelessly
and my favorite title: my year of living heterosexually: and other tales from hell
there are so few things i'd be willing to commit to for a year. i started making a mental list:
a year of cleaning the grout in the bathroom tiles twice a week
a year of not buying anymore art supplies until i use up the closet-full of supplies i already have
a week of not picking at my nails (i'm a big believer in realistic goals)
how about you?
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