Prosaic Paradise

My dad just posted a bunch of pictures from his days in the Navy on his flickr.

Look at that amazing family resemblance! There are a bunch of the ships and various international destinations, and points between. It makes me understand in some small way why my father is so nostalgic and attached about the Navy as it was then. Obviously, the man who left Monroe, MI and joined the Navy because he saw that the guys driving their hot rods up and down the paltry main drag were basically going to be stuck there for the rest of their lives is a guy I can never know. The guy who went to Viet Nam is a guy I can never quite know. The guy standing in a Bangkok street in his dress whites… you get the idea. The guy I know is the one who filled up my plastic wading pool, the guy who helped me build a snowman, the guy who finally after weeks and weeks of begging let me use a small saw to cut branches to make “tree house” parts. The guy who got me an NRA membership as soon as I was old enough and took me down to the range to make sure I learned to fire a gun. The guy who I brought nearly to tears refusing to do algebra homework and being a huge disappointment for the first time. The guy I compared all of my boyfriends to as a yardstick of worth. The guy with a passion for his hobbies I may have inherited. The guy who worked his butt off to put me in good schools. The guy who treats my mom like royalty.

I am a product of a different time and I might not ever understand the guy in these pictures or quite think of him the same way as the guy I know as my dad, but I’m proud of him for having got through whatever he went through and become the stand-up guy he is now and who helped raise me, because no matter how horrifically we disagree on things, I still love my dad.

Tags: Family

Considering the fact that financial panic is staring plenty of people in the face after the past week, I should probably not complain about, say, the fact that my blow dryer was dead when I got up this morning and so I look like a scary 80s chick because my bangs are flipping out all over the place. It’s true, I am entirely blow dryer dependent.

I made it through the first round of exams! I am mostly sure I aced the lecture portion, and entirely sure I aced the lab portion because he handed them back yesterday. My classmates were all very jealous. I got something wrong that I’d circled for which the answer I wrote was “Epicardium” but I cannot for the life of me recall what the question was. I also got something wrong I labeled “Neutrophil” and no one else could tell me what that was either. I know I got at least one wrong on the multiple choice last night – For the life of me I could not remember what it was that the goddamn liver makes out of the choices. And he had told us that question! And 5 minutes before the exam I said to Annette (the one who keeps reminding me it only takes 3 seconds to shave your armpits) “I am going to get this one wrong” and pointed to it.

Ah, well. I still think I am in A territory for the first round, which is amazing considering how sloppy I was about time management and studying. I definitely need to be more proactive and spend more time here:

Look, there is even a fuzzy kitty cat there to make it more enticing. Yes, that is also my new LLBean back-to-school super deluxe monogrammed backpack you see. Part of my success last semester was podcasts, but the podcasts I have found for A&P II are more spotty and less aligned with our curriculum. I also spent breaks at work and lunches studying – so I’ll do a little more of that.

After hopefully rocking the lecture exam, on the way home I stopped at the neighborhood boozeteria and got myself a cheap bottle of chardonnay and went at it like a goth girl at a baby shower. I haven’t felt that relaxed in weeks. Possibly months. Ah, self-medication. We watched Fringe and Project Runway… Continue Reading »

Tags: class, School, TV

It’s been an eventful few weeks, even if the events aren’t as big as rock camp or a trip to progday. But “everyday” concerns have been moving forward too. This reminds me, I need to write an about page explaining why I called this blog Prosaic Paradise.

Class started! In fact we’ve already dissected a sheep’s heart and have an exam next week. Despite being confident I could decipher any tricky exam questions about blood types and agglutination, I continue to screw that up. Mainly because this professor is a big fan of the “tricky” question. I am trying to clear my schedule of social obligations so that I can maintain my crushing success, but… I just like them so much. A Genesis forums gathering is coming up, for instance, that I am waffling on. I did replace my LLBean backpack after much hand-wringing and an attempt to remove the lining of my old backpack with masking tape. You’ll be seeing “what’s in my bag” posts in no time.

Work has been a big success in some ways. Since we got a new guy I’ve been really busy getting a significant amount of actual work done, and having someone newer than me + producing actual docments (no matter how mistake-ridden) has me finally feeling like a contributing member of the team… after 11 months. On the other hand, having my work in the hands of its intended audience means lots of feedback in a short amount of time, which sort of overflowed my emotional levees a few weeks back and I had an embarassing cry in front of coworkers. It was very unprofessional and also something I felt I could not physically control! So that bit. My first review is coming up and I cannot wait to get that over with.

We had another meeting of Book Club which was well-attended and provoked a bit of discussion. I have to say I do recommend the book last month, Rethinking Thin by Gina Kolata. If you ever thought that Atkins invented the low carb diet or judged someone for putting on weight they’d lost or been on a diet at all, this book might bring to light some studies you’d like to know about or should know about. And while I’m recommending books, I am just finishing up one from Audible I can’t express enough admiration for: The Center Cannot Hold by Elyn Saks. This memoir humanizes mental illness in a way I hadn’t read before and opens a door into the world of a mind in turmoil. As someone who couldn’t get enough of firsthand stories of multiple personalities as a teenager, this is a terrific – and much more scholarly – examination of the experience of being schizophrenic. My only disappointment is that I am not getting a great description of how she managed to get so much done while struggling with the disease! Law school for crying out loud. I need to know how to do that much work when I’m NOT mentally ill.

We went into a tizzy (definition: I went into a tizzy, Jack cleaned) cleaning up the downstairs to have a few people over to see Nate off to NY. Well, ignore for the moment that he already moved to NY. It was a lovely night! And further proof to both of us that we need to have more parties. Moving the now-ridiculous amount of musical equipment always seems so daunting. If I could convince myself to get rid of the bed, I could move the practice room upstairs… a ponderance I continue to put off.

I also got to see the Liam Finn show at the Rock and Roll Hotel in DC. I admit the place is kind of nice, with little spots to relax in, at least until they pound away with the oontz oontz music at the upstairs bar. The show itself was amazing, just like the last two times I managed to see him, only with twice the crowd this time. He didn’t seem to hang around after the show this time, sadly. My foot was pretty upset about standing on concrete floors for that long anyways, AND I ran into an old friend from the cam! Alan was there supporting his friend who was DJing. A happy happenstance.

The next day, I thought I was supposed to have a tattoo appointment. I had psyched myself up to go alone and everything. It turned out, both myself and my artist were confused (thank god) because she didn’t show up when it was supposed to be. So I dodged a bullet on that one! Except for the fact that I had to drive to Leesburg. And the fact that I don’t have the next part of my tattoo yet. Her new shop is right in historic Leesburg in a cute little building! It’s really nice. Anyways, I just drove the hour back home listening to some angry music and as I approached the house I noticed an auto show was going on at the town hall. So I walked down there and took some pictures! I mean what better place to excercise one’s camera.

All during all of this, my foot has been jacked up. I have this band of inflamed something across (from side to side, buh?) the bottom of my left foot. I can’t remember any particular trauma, tripping, stepping on anything, so my doctor (I finally got to go to the flipping doctor after a week of limping around) just gave me a NSAID (Relafen) and told me to see if that makes it better. I’m wearing ugly sneakers everywhere and I miss wearing my chucks (I tried insoles and they work a bit but the sneakers make the hurting stop). Today I wore my Docs and I basically ready to give them up because they make it worse. My doctor, by the way, recommended I replace any old shoes I have. Considering most of my shoes are years old, this is like a doctor-ordered shopping spree. Which I don’t have time to go on, so I’ll just keep wearing ugly sneakers or Keens, I guess. (The birkenstocks and earth shoes make it worse.) But still… doctor’s orders! New shoes!!

In non-related medical happenings, I finally after over a year went and had my blood drawn. The lady said, “Are you OK?” because I was obviously sweating buckets and not OK. I said “I’m nervous, but I’m determined to get over it because I want to be a nurse.” This launched her into her praise of the wonderful field of medicine and her son who is a doctor, but the point of this story is that I looked! While the needle was in my arm! For a whole second! I came out of there saying aloud to myself “I can do it!” over and over and scaring other people who happened to be walking by and now in fact wish I could have blood drawn again to see if I can handle watching the needle go in. Is anyone having blood drawn?

Tags: book club, class, health, party, School, show, work

Last weekend I was off on that quest for really interesting, whole-head-engaging, bite-down-and-taste-it new music. I went to ProgDay for the third year. As usual, I made sure I didn’t listen to any of the bands in advance and just let the organizers surprise me (with one exception). Armed with a cooler, a lawn chair, an umbrella, and a positive attitude, I settled in at Storybook Farm Saturday morning ready to be surprised.

Within a few minutes VonFrickle took the stage in all white suits, white headgear including creepy white masks. Did I mention it was over 90? Yeah, that can’t have been comfortable. I guess it’s a testament to their dedication to the work, which, by the way, produced a fabulous sound. It’s interesting because I often associate a band’s music with the show they put on and with the people I see playing that music, and that element was removed here, which is part of their point. Well, it worked. And I don’t typically care for all-instrumental sets.

I guess that means I was set up to dislike the next band, Holding Pattern. Still no vox and a sound I couldn’t quite connect with. They were terrific instrumentalists, but not my cup of tea. I liked it, but didn’t looove it. The drummer dropped in some solos that didn’t feel like part of the music, which while I appreciate skill, is kind of irritating. In the middle of this I did some front gate duty, which was nice because I got to meet a few people and not just keep to myself.

Then there was Abigail’s Ghost. Hailing from New Orleans, the band that everyone lumps in with Porcupine

Abigail’s Ghost

Tree and Riverside and dismisses as “alterna-rock” was maybe facing a little prejudice in the prog crowd? If so it was only a little, I hope. Definitely more melodic, more moody, and yes maybe a little more mainstream, the songs and lyrics appeal to me as a former moody pretend-goth. (I don’t mean that to belittle their style or musicianship! Just to make a self-deprecating joke.) I already had their album but I can say that the set they played would have me buying it all over again. I enjoyed watching each member of the band work their magic in person, and thought they really seemed invested in the music, like they really loved playing it. I kind of didn’t get into Ain Soph, the Japanese canterbury-style group. Can’t like everything I guess. I tried to run back to the hotel in time to swim before the monsoon… but failed. I had sushi with my friend John and was too shy to go out by the pool later to mingle with the other proggers.

Sunday was kind of a blur, although one thing that was not blurry was the morning wake up call of Cheer-Accident. (Not to mention the show opening rainbow underpants jester hat stage handery.) Cheer-Accident just projected good fun and good musicianship and kept my attention riveted! This is one where I can’t put

Cheer-Accident

into words exactly what drew me, it just felt right. It helps that later I chatted with some of the band members and they were all really fun to talk to. I mean, Jeff came from behind the merch table to give me my first tattoo-related hug!

Pinnacle was very good, although I think their music is the kind I need to let sink in. Of course they also closed their set out with a Peter Gabriel cover (Here Comes the Flood) so that sort of won me over at the last minute. Canvas Solaris was up next. Metal-math-rock-ey things happened. While not my bag, the instrumental prowess was obvious and made their set fascinating in a whole other way. After that, I was volunteering at the beer stand, and so couldn’t get the full brunt of either a) the rainstorm or b) Mirthrandir and their outstanding set. By far the best vocals of the weekend! I should have picked up one of their cds. To my tremendous regret, I had to leave before the last band went on, who I heard were a-maz-ing. I was hot and tired and had a cold and was meeting my friend Donald from college who I hadn’t seen in maybe 13 years so I don’t regret that at all! But it sounds like I missed something really special. Next year I vow to see the very end of ProgDay for the first time.

I anticipated ProgDay this year even more than last. I now knew I could trust this to be a musical experience that really got into my heart, from the kind and friendly audience to the amazing setting to the vast array of music brought together under the banner of “prog”.

ProgDay Dog

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Tags: Music, ProgDay

Last weekend exceeded expectations; on Friday I met up with my potenetial (actual?) new bandmates from rock camp. I picked three up at the metro; for future reference, 3 folks + guitar + cello + driver is totally doable in the hatchback. The fourth joined us directly and we all played musical instruments… wait… I mean we swapped around and traded out and everyone took a turn on drums, bass, & guitar. Only two of us wanted to step up to the mic and we left the cello to its fine, fine owner. But for a first meeting we kind of cranked out a song we liked (lyrical inspiration: the Time Life Home Repair encyclopedia of the 70s) and lo, it was good. Of course, since this coming weekend is ProgDay, they will probably get together without me. But since there’s another Kim in the band, they’ve taken to calling me Ringo, and affectionate nicknames are a good sign, right?

Saturday was also spectacular. I got up early and had my first drum lesson in about 2 months – summer kind of got in the way – and I was so anxious about it. I needn’t have been, it was like no time had passed, and we worked on triplet fills, and played along with some Allman Brothers spontaneously. I felt more like my lack of confidence is the only barrier to achievement, not some kind of natural rhythmic disability.

Post-lesson I ran straight out to visit Fred and participate in session 6 of Faith, Faces, & Fingerprints. In thinking about it, the latter two titular nouns have not come into play nearly so much, which I should be creative about remedying next time. I got to do a biggish scene and our heroes saved the city and the bad guys rolled poorly which is really quite fine with me since the scale of jeopardy was high this session. This reminds me of a rock camp anecdote: I was explaining to some other volunteers at the after-party-thing that I could out-nerd them. My first bid was that I’d made and worn anime costumes at a convention. My second bid was something to do with mass market paperbacks by certain authors. My third bid, and the one which sealed my achievement of total geek outclassing, was my declaration that I play in a tabletop role playing game currently. Everyone bowed out at that point. When I leave the context of my gaming friends, I’m always surprised at how sheepish I feel about this point! Comic books are chic now – but role playing games, those are still the hallmark of High Dork. It’s interesting.

Having had a splendid lunch with the GM and Xie, I grabbed Jack and fairly flew out the door to the Atomic Music. See, they close at 6 on Saturdays! They shoo crowds of people out, it’s kind of insane. I wanted to look at kick pedals. They had some really beat up ones but nothing with a strap drive (most have a chain drive and I prefer strap for no reason I can explain – see the pic halfway down this page) and they don’t have new things, I guess, so we left. But all this musical fiddling had gotten under Jack’s skin, so by the next day, we would be dropping some cash.

But not before we attended Bad Movie Night! Which is where the may-gus comes in. I had been waiting for years for the release of the Dungeon Siege movie, and then somehow it went by me unnoticed (go fig). But I’m a huge Matthew Lillard fan and this movie looked awful in a way I knew I would appreciate so I *had* to see it. Fortunately I have good friends who are willing to endure this kind of thing alongside me. Oh, it was everything I had hoped for, and more. Leelee Sobieski wears the best outfit ever made for a woman in a fantasy world. Lillard tantrums up the whole show. And Ray Liotta is the best goodfella you can be in a movie based on a video game set in a place called Ehb. I don’t care what anyone says; knock back a few beers and find some people who like bad movies and you, too can have fun watching a Uwe Boll flick.

Sunday was a day for getting Jack a present. After being surrounded by all the musical business, he decided he’d had it with borrowing my guitar sporadically, and decided he wanted his own guitar. I was still on a pedal quest, so we decided to try Bill’s in Catonsville this time. Since I bought my first drum kit there, they seem to have scaled back – they are only in one of the buildings now, but they still have a great selection. I found a strap-drive double pedal… but it just didn’t feel right. I have a feeling I am going to have to get one new and that is not cheap. But that’s not why I’m telling you this story – Jack took his time and patiently played lots of guitars until he found just the right one. It’s a Paul Reed Smith, but it’s the low-end one that’s not made in Maryland. For my part I found a cheap Casio keyboard so that now I have a full band’s worth of junk in my house… this also would hypothetically make it easier for me to write songs, since I am ignorant on the guitar. But we might be remedying that – after we got home Sunday Jack & I spent most of the evening restringing guitars and then trying to learn stuff … and we’ve already practiced again this week. I have to say, I vastly prefer this mutual activity to say, watching Grey’s Anatomy or leveling up druids or what-not.

Tags: drums, Gaming, movies, Music

Crikey – almost 2 weeks ago now I had just had a good 12 hour day at the first annual Girls Rock DC summer camp. My brain was a tiny pile of mush, and I was just an incidental volunteer. I have got to hand it to the women who put the whole program together – what a monumental undertaking. I feel like the work I put in last week doesn’t quite hold a candle, and I don’t mean that in a self-deprecating way, I mean that I worked pretty hard but everyone around me was keeping it together in a truly stunning manner and they had been for months and months before I even showed up. Heck, I didn’t even have kid interaction for the majority of my days, which to me is the most exhausting part.

Many people – my coworkers, other friends – sort of seem to default to smile and nod when I begin to wax rhapsodic about the experience of rock camp. I feel like when I attended the Ladies’ version myself, in Portland, more people could connect with what I was saying – you go, you rock. In this case, you wake up early on your vacation, you run around like a chicken … well you run around a lot, and in the end you are a roadie for someone else. The fact is, that all becomes worth it the first time you see the girl who hadn’t touched a guitar before this week reach up without prompting and bust out the chords to the song that she helped write.

It’s harder and harder for me to remember what it was like to be an awkward, totally unconfident and desperate-to-be-cool kid (although a few photos posted to Facebook from high school cohorts who’re enjoying an online reunion helps kick start the ol’ memory) unable to find a direction for creative energy. I don’t have that problem nowadays. But that’s the feeling you have to connect with to get the mission of camp. You also have to remember a number of other things – like being told that wanting to skateboard was inappropriate or being urged to pick up the acoustic and not the electric guitar by virtue of your gender. We’d all love to think that those things don’t still happen, but they do. I always tell people to just do me a favor and flip through the rock music magazines at your local borders, particularly the ones aimed at instrumentalists. If you’re a young girl, you’re probably still so unlikely to find someone of your gender as a role model that it’s almost a joke.

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Tags: Music, Rock Camp

I’m in the midst of a real, true “day off”. That means I’m fiddling around with things around the house I typically neglect entirely like clearing out all the magazines from the bathroom reading depot from the past 2 years. Jack is doing something that involves every old hard drive we have in the house that I don’t even want to know about. The only thing I expect out of today (now that I paid all the bills) is some sushi.

Among these noodly things I am up to, I am finally admitting to myself that it may be the end of the road for my old backpack.

I got this puppy sometime in high school, I believe. Or maybe as I was getting ready to leave for college. Those that know can do the math; this is an old danged bag, as bags go. It’s carried every textbook, probably hundreds of pens, it’s been rifled by thieves and traveled to far-flung locales full of LARP costumes. In recent years, it’s mostly been the perfect overnight bag… so many new and exciting bags have come up to take its place as an everyday tool.

Oh, there’s the Crumpler bag, and several inevitable Timbuk2 bags, a new Sherpani for smaller backpack needs, and something else that comes along just about every month to make me consider carving more space for my extensive bag army.

The really sad thing is the way I’m losing it. Every single part of this bag has the same structural integrity it had when it was first gifted to me (I doubt I would have ever picked purple on my own. I am sure this was a mom or grandma purchase.) in nineteen-ninety whatever. It’s the lining. It’s gone… evil. I started noticing everything I put inside would come out covered with flakes of ick. Eventually I rubbed my two brain cells together and found out that the insides of this bag had a life-span, and it was over. I’ve tried vacuuming it out; rubbing at the insides with an old sock to flake it all off myself, but the gumminess won’t be budged unless I put clothes or books in there and carry the damn thing around. It just seems like other than this… the bag could go on and on. Continue Reading »

Tags: stuff