Monday, October 30, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Every one of us has a problem, or maybe many. Maybe our problems are related to worrying about our loved ones, or maybe our problems come from what actions we take. In any event sometimes when you just want to escape your problems, and you wonder, what really is the point to life, it's time to remember that usually the cosmos works in mysterious ways.
Alot of crappy stuff has been happening lately, for my friends, my family, and to a lesser extent to me. But, I think the mature way to look at this is to go, why do I want to escape feeling badly for others and myself? Sure, it sucks right now, but often timesbec there is a silver lining, or a realization that I can make after these events happen. In a way it's the quote "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger" that comes to mind. Life is in deed a series of ups and downs. I often wonder why people get what they get, and do they deserve it? because bad things can happen to good people, and good people can sometimes do bad things. Is it karma? just unlucky? are they mean otherwise?
I can't spend so much time doing this anymore. It is far better to accept that sometimes shit happens. And what determines your strength of character is how you deal with the aftermath. Also, no event is really a singular occurance. there are smaller moments that lead to those that stick out in our minds. Those particularly great and those particularly lousy.
For what it's worth, my prayers go out to you all.
Alot of crappy stuff has been happening lately, for my friends, my family, and to a lesser extent to me. But, I think the mature way to look at this is to go, why do I want to escape feeling badly for others and myself? Sure, it sucks right now, but often timesbec there is a silver lining, or a realization that I can make after these events happen. In a way it's the quote "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger" that comes to mind. Life is in deed a series of ups and downs. I often wonder why people get what they get, and do they deserve it? because bad things can happen to good people, and good people can sometimes do bad things. Is it karma? just unlucky? are they mean otherwise?
I can't spend so much time doing this anymore. It is far better to accept that sometimes shit happens. And what determines your strength of character is how you deal with the aftermath. Also, no event is really a singular occurance. there are smaller moments that lead to those that stick out in our minds. Those particularly great and those particularly lousy.
For what it's worth, my prayers go out to you all.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Musical Moments
Guster's performance on Oct 6th was super fun for me. I'm not so sure it was as fun for the friends I dragged along...
Cassi knows some of Guster's songs because she will be cruising with them on the Ships and Dip cruise. Yup, she's a huge BNL fan and is following them south very soon. I have the option to send a video as to why I want to be Scooter for a day (if I win I would go on the same cruise). Scooter is the drum tech for Guster. I introduced Cas to Guster for this reason. She'll get me an autograph (I hope) hehe. Misa saw Guster at the 10,000 hrs show, and knows most of the songs from Goldfly and a few from Keep It Together. Viv and Beth and Huey were there because they'd been with us at the parade, though as Guster themselves wrote on their road journal "There will be 15,000 people there, probably 5% Guster fans, 15% Kansas fans, and 100% drunk people." They were somewhat correct...
Advantages: Lead singer, Brian wore a Hamburg Inn #2 shirt.
They played a rendition of "In Heaven There is No Beer" and a version of "Homecoming King" dedicated to Iowa's newly crowned King and Queen.
Astrophysics Boy was able to make an arrival and only missed a few songs.
Guster also modified "In Heaven" to explain "Guster has no gear, that's why we're singing here" because their drumset and keyboards didn't make it from their last gig. However, I think that makes the IC concert that much more unique. And they did a geat job regardless. (though Brian couldn't play with his hands on a rented drumset...can't get that set bloody or anything)
Drawbacks: Really tall guys standing pretty much right next to me on my right who were very drunk (seemingly) and kept yelling stuff like: Play Dust in the Wind.
And the girls who showed up half way through the concert, and tried to push their way to the front, complete with their tavel sized (luckily plastic) bottle of Smirinof Raspberry. Security (two guys standing on the edge of the stage) didn't seem to mind that at all, as they just looked on and laughed.
The stench/aroma? of marijuana was also an annoyance for me, as I am pretty damn allergic to it, even via contact exposure.
But, advantages outweighed.
Also, last night I had the opp. to be "hired" to videotape an opera production. This was a $65 dollar a seat affair at the hotelVetro in Iowa City. So I got to see the hotelVetro - which appears to be an attempt at a "modern" style, even though to me it came off as more of a "sterile" style. I got to try sushi from Formosa though, which wasn't too bad and give away my drink tickets to those adventurous enough to try Saketinis. I did snag a great looking bottle of VOSS water for my collection.
(I'm not sure I've mentioned my habit of collecting interesting looking bottles that are aesthetically pleasing to my senses/sentimental but I've been doing it for a few years now. There is in fact a Jazz vodka bottle that Astrophysics Boy is working his way through for me, it looks like a trumpet!)
The best part though, was everyone believed I was the sister of the director and why shouldn't they, as she's my twister. (i.e. twin sister in theory)
Not only that, but I got to be incrediably proud of her official professional opera directorial debut. The blocking was great, even though it meant I spent a bit more time panning. Cas did a great job staging Cox and Box in the lobby of the hotel. A triple challenge, because the audience was on EITHER side of the hotel's entrance, it's a public space, and she had only three days to work it all out. It was an enjoyable spectacle and her cast did a lovely job. Cedar Rapids Opera Company would do well to keep her employeed. I just hope the video turned out well, as associated people were clamouring for a copy afterwards.
Cassi knows some of Guster's songs because she will be cruising with them on the Ships and Dip cruise. Yup, she's a huge BNL fan and is following them south very soon. I have the option to send a video as to why I want to be Scooter for a day (if I win I would go on the same cruise). Scooter is the drum tech for Guster. I introduced Cas to Guster for this reason. She'll get me an autograph (I hope) hehe. Misa saw Guster at the 10,000 hrs show, and knows most of the songs from Goldfly and a few from Keep It Together. Viv and Beth and Huey were there because they'd been with us at the parade, though as Guster themselves wrote on their road journal "There will be 15,000 people there, probably 5% Guster fans, 15% Kansas fans, and 100% drunk people." They were somewhat correct...
Advantages: Lead singer, Brian wore a Hamburg Inn #2 shirt.
They played a rendition of "In Heaven There is No Beer" and a version of "Homecoming King" dedicated to Iowa's newly crowned King and Queen.
Astrophysics Boy was able to make an arrival and only missed a few songs.
Guster also modified "In Heaven" to explain "Guster has no gear, that's why we're singing here" because their drumset and keyboards didn't make it from their last gig. However, I think that makes the IC concert that much more unique. And they did a geat job regardless. (though Brian couldn't play with his hands on a rented drumset...can't get that set bloody or anything)
Drawbacks: Really tall guys standing pretty much right next to me on my right who were very drunk (seemingly) and kept yelling stuff like: Play Dust in the Wind.
And the girls who showed up half way through the concert, and tried to push their way to the front, complete with their tavel sized (luckily plastic) bottle of Smirinof Raspberry. Security (two guys standing on the edge of the stage) didn't seem to mind that at all, as they just looked on and laughed.
The stench/aroma? of marijuana was also an annoyance for me, as I am pretty damn allergic to it, even via contact exposure.
But, advantages outweighed.
Also, last night I had the opp. to be "hired" to videotape an opera production. This was a $65 dollar a seat affair at the hotelVetro in Iowa City. So I got to see the hotelVetro - which appears to be an attempt at a "modern" style, even though to me it came off as more of a "sterile" style. I got to try sushi from Formosa though, which wasn't too bad and give away my drink tickets to those adventurous enough to try Saketinis. I did snag a great looking bottle of VOSS water for my collection.
(I'm not sure I've mentioned my habit of collecting interesting looking bottles that are aesthetically pleasing to my senses/sentimental but I've been doing it for a few years now. There is in fact a Jazz vodka bottle that Astrophysics Boy is working his way through for me, it looks like a trumpet!)
The best part though, was everyone believed I was the sister of the director and why shouldn't they, as she's my twister. (i.e. twin sister in theory)
Not only that, but I got to be incrediably proud of her official professional opera directorial debut. The blocking was great, even though it meant I spent a bit more time panning. Cas did a great job staging Cox and Box in the lobby of the hotel. A triple challenge, because the audience was on EITHER side of the hotel's entrance, it's a public space, and she had only three days to work it all out. It was an enjoyable spectacle and her cast did a lovely job. Cedar Rapids Opera Company would do well to keep her employeed. I just hope the video turned out well, as associated people were clamouring for a copy afterwards.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
non-fiction writing class...
April 10, 2000
"Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you got till it's gone? They paved Paradise, and put up a parking lot."
Amy Grant belted out this line on the radio the other day as I was driving back from Ames. These simple lyrics jump-started my brain. I began to evaluate my life and the things that I tend to take for granted. The things that I don't know I have until they are no longer there. Maybe they didn't ever pave over my Paradise in the literal sense of the word. I don't lament the loss of a favorite oak tree that became the Seven-Eleven parking lot. But, they, or rather Fate, as I see it, wanted me to see what I had, and what I could easily lose. It was one of those moments that stick with you. You can see it in such vivid detail and play it over and over in your head despite how young you were. And sometimes, even now, as you are doing some mundane task, or looking at some ordinary object, you are reminded of that day. The day you suddenly realized you had something great, but lost it.
I was five years old when my first best friend died. I know that at five years old I was perhaps too young to graps the implications of such a tragedy, yet as I listened to the refrain piped through my car speakers, I began to remember what it feels like to know that your individual paradise has been crushed.
We went to the same pre-school. We spent all our time together. We were the classic definition of best buds. We were content to play with each other, instead of other children. When the teachers used to split us up "to socialize and increase our friendship and sharing skills," like heat-seeking missiles intent on finding that one locked target, we'd scan the playground, sight, zero-in and proceed. In front of the teachers we were always casual and simply ambled over to each other. But we knew we were drawn by comfort of familiarity and fun. We played with the same toys, shared our snacks, sat in the shade of the same tree, and built block towers in the grass.
This was my version of Paradise. This was my simply childhood innocence and indestructible logic. Everything made sense. Brad and I. We made sense. We, and only we, got our secret jokes, knew our secret language and understood our world of blurred make-believe and reality.
Brad's death serves as a reminder to me today, that sometimes events are so complicated that as a child we don't understand why things happen or what impact they may have.
"Brad doesn't go to pre-school anymore, he has gone to Heaven."
This was my mother's attempt to explain such a difficult concept to a five year old girl, who simply couldn't seek out her best friend on the playground earlier that day. There were no secret jokes, no language, no snacks, and no block tower. Looking back on that day, I realize my childhood world of sheltered playtime and pretend could only last so long before some event would become real enough to make that blur come into focus.
My mom believes that it is better he died when i was five. She thinks there is less hurt, because there was less to be hurt about. I'd known him for two years. That was all. Maybe she's right and maybe she's wrong. I can't help wondering if we'd made it through more of life's journey, would I have hurt more to lose someone so abruptly? Or would I have had the chance to grieve more fully, the way that an adult friend should be able? If we'd grown up together, shared more memories, developed our connection more deeply, would I have hurt more at his death? I can't answer that last question for myself. I can't answer it for others either. I can only say, hearing that song, caused me to remember this event and muss on its potential impact.
You don't always know what you had, until it is taken from you. The flip side is that sometimes you don't appreciate the especially great people and rare things you experience. Upon remembering, you tuly see that Paradise is not as much of an illusion or make-believe as it first appears to be. Brad and I shared something, no matter how short it was, I can look back and not simply think, "Gee, I didn't know what I had," because I do. I am grateful for it. I am grateful for the acknowledgement I gain in noticing some of the effects his death has had on my own life.
"Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you got till it's gone? They paved Paradise, and put up a parking lot."
Amy Grant belted out this line on the radio the other day as I was driving back from Ames. These simple lyrics jump-started my brain. I began to evaluate my life and the things that I tend to take for granted. The things that I don't know I have until they are no longer there. Maybe they didn't ever pave over my Paradise in the literal sense of the word. I don't lament the loss of a favorite oak tree that became the Seven-Eleven parking lot. But, they, or rather Fate, as I see it, wanted me to see what I had, and what I could easily lose. It was one of those moments that stick with you. You can see it in such vivid detail and play it over and over in your head despite how young you were. And sometimes, even now, as you are doing some mundane task, or looking at some ordinary object, you are reminded of that day. The day you suddenly realized you had something great, but lost it.
I was five years old when my first best friend died. I know that at five years old I was perhaps too young to graps the implications of such a tragedy, yet as I listened to the refrain piped through my car speakers, I began to remember what it feels like to know that your individual paradise has been crushed.
We went to the same pre-school. We spent all our time together. We were the classic definition of best buds. We were content to play with each other, instead of other children. When the teachers used to split us up "to socialize and increase our friendship and sharing skills," like heat-seeking missiles intent on finding that one locked target, we'd scan the playground, sight, zero-in and proceed. In front of the teachers we were always casual and simply ambled over to each other. But we knew we were drawn by comfort of familiarity and fun. We played with the same toys, shared our snacks, sat in the shade of the same tree, and built block towers in the grass.
This was my version of Paradise. This was my simply childhood innocence and indestructible logic. Everything made sense. Brad and I. We made sense. We, and only we, got our secret jokes, knew our secret language and understood our world of blurred make-believe and reality.
Brad's death serves as a reminder to me today, that sometimes events are so complicated that as a child we don't understand why things happen or what impact they may have.
"Brad doesn't go to pre-school anymore, he has gone to Heaven."
This was my mother's attempt to explain such a difficult concept to a five year old girl, who simply couldn't seek out her best friend on the playground earlier that day. There were no secret jokes, no language, no snacks, and no block tower. Looking back on that day, I realize my childhood world of sheltered playtime and pretend could only last so long before some event would become real enough to make that blur come into focus.
My mom believes that it is better he died when i was five. She thinks there is less hurt, because there was less to be hurt about. I'd known him for two years. That was all. Maybe she's right and maybe she's wrong. I can't help wondering if we'd made it through more of life's journey, would I have hurt more to lose someone so abruptly? Or would I have had the chance to grieve more fully, the way that an adult friend should be able? If we'd grown up together, shared more memories, developed our connection more deeply, would I have hurt more at his death? I can't answer that last question for myself. I can't answer it for others either. I can only say, hearing that song, caused me to remember this event and muss on its potential impact.
You don't always know what you had, until it is taken from you. The flip side is that sometimes you don't appreciate the especially great people and rare things you experience. Upon remembering, you tuly see that Paradise is not as much of an illusion or make-believe as it first appears to be. Brad and I shared something, no matter how short it was, I can look back and not simply think, "Gee, I didn't know what I had," because I do. I am grateful for it. I am grateful for the acknowledgement I gain in noticing some of the effects his death has had on my own life.
Friday, October 06, 2006
hollywood boulevard #12
I think I can say that Sunset Boulevard is the first Billy Wilder film I've ever seen. Kinda surprising considering he wrote and directed a good portion of the films of the Hollywood Hay Day era, and also, the Apartment. Now, I had thought I'd seen the Apartment, however, I don't believe I did, since the plot seems totally different from the movie I remember seeing. So, Sunset Boulevard has sold me on Billy Wilder films. Or at least, I'll be taking a look at his other films (not to mention others are on the AFI list anyways)
As a movie, it has a definate old Hollywood feel, and it reminds me of how quickly new technology can put people out of business. The movie is about a silent film star making her "return" to the screen, or at least attempting. It traces a writer hired to help her modify a screenplay she wrote for this "reintroduction." The movie starts with this writer face down in a pool, having been shot. I won't spoil the plot by saying that it's an entertaining movie. The musical score was noticable also, which I found interesting. As I believe, most times, the musical score shouldn't be noticable in a movie, except in the very dramatic moments when it's heightened and additive. Sunset Boulevard had a score throughout, and throughout it was noticable to me. Perhaps that has since changed, or it was more delibrate to highlight the silent film to sound film aspect. Regardless though, I'd say it's worth renting/checking out and watching.
As a movie, it has a definate old Hollywood feel, and it reminds me of how quickly new technology can put people out of business. The movie is about a silent film star making her "return" to the screen, or at least attempting. It traces a writer hired to help her modify a screenplay she wrote for this "reintroduction." The movie starts with this writer face down in a pool, having been shot. I won't spoil the plot by saying that it's an entertaining movie. The musical score was noticable also, which I found interesting. As I believe, most times, the musical score shouldn't be noticable in a movie, except in the very dramatic moments when it's heightened and additive. Sunset Boulevard had a score throughout, and throughout it was noticable to me. Perhaps that has since changed, or it was more delibrate to highlight the silent film to sound film aspect. Regardless though, I'd say it's worth renting/checking out and watching.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Congratulations!
Congratulations and Best Wishes are in order to Lindsay and Josh Elliot as they join the officially married couples of the world.
This weekend brought a close to my time at ACT, mountains of laundry, $10 loss at the new Riverside Casino, (but I made up for it in enjoying time with friends), a wedding, a football game, and a brunch.
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