Friday, November 30, 2007

10 minutes to go . . .

10 minutes left of the longest call center shift ever. I decided to write to keep myself from falling asleep. Unlike the effects of studying. When I was younger I used to try to fall asleep in my books because it seemed so picturesque and Full House like. That was kind of weird. Mostly it was just uncomfortable. Here there is at least a wall that I can snuggle up with. It doesn't help that the temperature is so warm. I feel like I'm in an incubator. Like a little baby chick. Only not as cute.

School has been kind of wearing lately. I've been dreaming of going to Poland. Are pierogies Polish? That seems about right. I could really go for a pierogie right about now. Speaking of these last ten minutes taking forever, I'm also hungry. I decided to eat grape nuts this morning and ignore the fact that it looked like gerbil turds. Unfortunately it tasted like gerbil turds too. I figure that I drink alcohol that tastes like lighter fluid, why not put the same effort into a healthy morning? I couldn't do it though. I guess I'll have to work up my grape nuts tolerance.

Have been thinking about performing a skit for the public service fund date night fundraiser (now know as the masquerade themed something or other people you don't actually go on a date with the person you bid on). I was thinking about recreating the jazz flute scene from Anchorman. It makes me laugh in my head. I need to commit to doing it before I back out and decide to sit at home with my pierogies instead.

Three minutes. . . three long minutes.

Speaking of pierogies again. They hardly sell them here in Virginia. I had a cashier ask me what I was buying once when she scanned them. This place is bogus. My roomate says I'm overreacting. That's probably true.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Strawberry Fields Forever

This weekend I rediscovered a love for the Beatles. My CD collection, like the velveteen rabbit, has been sadly neglected since I started listening to downloaded music on my computer. Going through my CDs the other day, I happened upon the second Beatles anthology with its bright green granny smith apple jewel cover. For the Benefit of Mr. Kite, I popped that baby into my computer to cozy up with my much-loved digital collection. It kind of made my weekend.

The Beatles are so much a part of pop culture that it's easy to forget that individual connection you feel to their music when you're listening to it. I've never meditated, but the feeling I get when I'm listening to certain music is what I imagine it would be like. The raw emotion of their songs is so consuming it's unbelievable. Across the Universe, Let It Be, A Day in the Life . . . absolutely amazing.

I also saw August Rush this weekend, which I really loved. Once you get over the cheesiness factor and accept the movie as an unrealistic fairy tale, it's really a sweet movie. The music totally made this movie too. Jonathan Rhys Meyer's character has this scene with his (unknown to him) son in the movie where he tells him to never give up on his music, no matter what. Whenever life goes wrong, your music will always be there. It made me kind of sad because I feel like I've given up on my music. I hardly play anymore and I always have some excuse for myself about being too busy. But I really miss it. Today I'm going to go search out the undergrad practice rooms and start playing at least a couple of times a week. Even if no one else ever hears, I still want to be playing again.

So that was my weekend of music! It capped off with the Hugh Grant movie Music and Lyrics. Now I have Pop Goes My Heart permanently stuck in my head. It's going to be a long day. . .

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Stiched with color

Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.
—from "Separation" by W.S. Merwin

I thought this was such a beautiful line. Have been thinking a lot about the people I love and miss.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Call Center Blues

Sitting in a closet-sized room with one hour left to go on my call center duty for the day. It's been three weeks without one call. Actually, no. That's not entirely true. I did get an accidental call one day.

There I was, drowning in boredom as usual. That's when I heard it. . .The ding. Just like that, it was on. I eagerly hit the button to accept the call and followed along in my how-to call center guide. Deep breath. "Law School Call Center, how may I help you?"

No answer

I tried again, louder. LAW SCHOOL CALL CENTER, MAY I HELP YOU??!! Nothing. Time for emergency measures. I pushed the listen button, expecting to hear the chaos of an emergency situation only to hear the law professor continuing on like nothing had happened. Didn't he wonder why his podium was speaking to him? Was there a classroom full of students wondering why in the middle of corporate transactions a tiny excited voice was squeaking out in the middle of the room?

The world may never know.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

take that Paul Revere

I just learned that you have to be 18 and under to be a fife player in the colonial Williamsburg fife and drum corps. Damn you Williamsburg! They leave me no choice. I guess I'm going to have to become a redcoat now.
I’m convinced that moving from the constant social atmosphere of college to the relative isolation of the “real world” has me building up the crazy. All the random thoughts, the paranoias, the stories with no point, and other hallmarks of my existence are forming a sort of “mental plaque” on my brain with nowhere to go.

I recently read that writing is like a cheaper version of therapy. So here goes . . .