It finally snowed today. It's been threatening to for a while, but never did. Until C block. History. I had a test. I could hardly concentrate, I was so excited.
I love snow.
Luckily, the test was easy, and then we got to go to the next block. My friend and I took the long way around, outside, and there was snow. And it was good.
Not enough for a snowball fight, we decided. Somehow I did get hit in the face though...
It had stopped by F block, but that was okay. The air was foggy, and when I finally got out of afterschool rehearsal, the temperature was like upper thirties and it was pitch black and utterly beautiful. Pretty much my perfect weather, right there. I could easily do that every single day.
No wind, of course.
So basically, today was awesome. I decided it merited a blog post. Ho hum.
November 20, 2007
November 8, 2007
Revision
Well, seeing how quickly THAT died, I'm switching from the whole post-a-day thing to more of a post-when-I-damn-well-feel-like-it thing. Mostly when something interesting happens.
Which it hasn't.
So bye, you quivering, thundering fools.
Which it hasn't.
So bye, you quivering, thundering fools.
November 5, 2007
November 4, 2007
Percussion?
Well now, this is interesting. For the past couple of weeks, I've been playing baritone horn and string bass in a traditional Klezmer (traditional Askenazi style) band in Boston, and we've been hacking away at a bunch of good old traditional klezmer tunes and it's been pretty fun. If you've never heard real Klezmer music, i highly suggest you seek it out, like on youtube somewhere, it's hard not to like, with the squealing clarinet, and triple jointed oboes and the likes. Good stuff.
Anyway, I was plucking along on a bass (one of the few pieces that I play it in) when the lead clarinet guy person thing at the front stopped us and stared at me for a while. I kinda freaked out because he's a really scary guy, stick-thin and wears a patch over his left eye because there's only half of it left and we don't know why (i'm not even kidding, it's really freaky). He just stared for a while, narrowing his eye, and then pointed at the poyk (like a bass drum with a small little metal thing thats sort of a cymbal but not quite on the top) in the corner and kinda nodded his head. So I walk over and pic up a mallet, and he nods.
What the fuck?
I'm sweating like crazy and the main percussionist is just like staring at me (she's really good) and she shakes her head and goes back to her snare drum/wood block. I'm pretty much screwed. Scary guy at the front cues us again, and I just sit there at first, listening. The real percussionist is doing some totally crazy thing that I can't possibly follow. After a quick little solo, i realized scary guy was staring at me and the percussionist gave me a nudge, so without thinking i just started banging the hell out of the poyk, trying as hard as I could to stay on some sort of beat. When I felt I had a groove steady enough, I started hitting the metal thing every once in a while too.
To me, it sounded like a bunch of noise. This was confirmed by the look of sheer disgust on the percussionists face. Creepy guy was still staring at me. It was weird though.
Because after the 8-5-1 at the end, we modulated and segwayed into an upbeat freylekh, I adjusted, kept banging, and he smiled. We played three sections, and each time, I got more and more into it. He stopped. I looked up. He nodded at me and smiled again, and we started again.
And so now I'm a Klezmer percussionist. And I kind of love it. I kind of REALLY love it. After I got the feel for the rhythm of the pieces, it's so easy to just get totally lost, and play. I started experimenting, and at the end of the session the real actually percussionist actually complemented me, and agreed to help me, give me tips and such.
It rocks.
That's all. Have a good week!
Anyway, I was plucking along on a bass (one of the few pieces that I play it in) when the lead clarinet guy person thing at the front stopped us and stared at me for a while. I kinda freaked out because he's a really scary guy, stick-thin and wears a patch over his left eye because there's only half of it left and we don't know why (i'm not even kidding, it's really freaky). He just stared for a while, narrowing his eye, and then pointed at the poyk (like a bass drum with a small little metal thing thats sort of a cymbal but not quite on the top) in the corner and kinda nodded his head. So I walk over and pic up a mallet, and he nods.
What the fuck?
I'm sweating like crazy and the main percussionist is just like staring at me (she's really good) and she shakes her head and goes back to her snare drum/wood block. I'm pretty much screwed. Scary guy at the front cues us again, and I just sit there at first, listening. The real percussionist is doing some totally crazy thing that I can't possibly follow. After a quick little solo, i realized scary guy was staring at me and the percussionist gave me a nudge, so without thinking i just started banging the hell out of the poyk, trying as hard as I could to stay on some sort of beat. When I felt I had a groove steady enough, I started hitting the metal thing every once in a while too.
To me, it sounded like a bunch of noise. This was confirmed by the look of sheer disgust on the percussionists face. Creepy guy was still staring at me. It was weird though.
Because after the 8-5-1 at the end, we modulated and segwayed into an upbeat freylekh, I adjusted, kept banging, and he smiled. We played three sections, and each time, I got more and more into it. He stopped. I looked up. He nodded at me and smiled again, and we started again.
And so now I'm a Klezmer percussionist. And I kind of love it. I kind of REALLY love it. After I got the feel for the rhythm of the pieces, it's so easy to just get totally lost, and play. I started experimenting, and at the end of the session the real actually percussionist actually complemented me, and agreed to help me, give me tips and such.
It rocks.
That's all. Have a good week!
November 3, 2007
Efficiency
Okay, I went to get a flu shot today. Fun stuff, that. Little prick in the arm, and you don't get the flu for a year. Gotta love it.
Anyway, when I got there I was surprised (as I'm sure I am every year) at the sheer volume of people. The line was all the way out the door on the ground level, snaking up and down the stairs up to the third where the clinic was. Obviously, my first thought was "oh, shit, this is going to take years." So I got my forms and started to fill it out and all that jazz. I looked up after the first two boxes and saw I was no longer in line at all. It had moved magnormiously,. which is, in fact, a word I made up. How this happened? I have no idea. As it turns out, the level of efficiency in that place was astounding. I had to struggle to finish the form before I got all the way through that hell of a line in about five minutes. Once there some bored looking woman just pointed to a desk, I gave the other bored looking man at a computer the form, and they pointed me to another bored looking woman who was holding a needle. Up goes the sleeve, swab, poke, swab, bye! All over in about 27 seconds.
I walked out totally amazed and with a slightly sore bicep and wondered why all operations couldn't run that smoothly. Of course, a shot is a very quick thing as it is, but the sheer volume of people being processed, with every single one of them documented, is huge. Even for longer processes, I think we have something to learn from these bored people with computers and needles.
And by the way, the two women were quite elderly and therefore uninteresting, but that guy at the computer was pretty damn sexy. He looked to be about in his mid-twenties, he had a huge-but-bored smile, was black, had blue eyes, and had the best jacket I've ever seen. I think I'm still madly in love with him. I REALLY like cute red jackets, recognizable to those of you who heard about that Spanish guy I wrote about on dA.
Okay that's enough for now. Bye!
Anyway, when I got there I was surprised (as I'm sure I am every year) at the sheer volume of people. The line was all the way out the door on the ground level, snaking up and down the stairs up to the third where the clinic was. Obviously, my first thought was "oh, shit, this is going to take years." So I got my forms and started to fill it out and all that jazz. I looked up after the first two boxes and saw I was no longer in line at all. It had moved magnormiously,. which is, in fact, a word I made up. How this happened? I have no idea. As it turns out, the level of efficiency in that place was astounding. I had to struggle to finish the form before I got all the way through that hell of a line in about five minutes. Once there some bored looking woman just pointed to a desk, I gave the other bored looking man at a computer the form, and they pointed me to another bored looking woman who was holding a needle. Up goes the sleeve, swab, poke, swab, bye! All over in about 27 seconds.
I walked out totally amazed and with a slightly sore bicep and wondered why all operations couldn't run that smoothly. Of course, a shot is a very quick thing as it is, but the sheer volume of people being processed, with every single one of them documented, is huge. Even for longer processes, I think we have something to learn from these bored people with computers and needles.
And by the way, the two women were quite elderly and therefore uninteresting, but that guy at the computer was pretty damn sexy. He looked to be about in his mid-twenties, he had a huge-but-bored smile, was black, had blue eyes, and had the best jacket I've ever seen. I think I'm still madly in love with him. I REALLY like cute red jackets, recognizable to those of you who heard about that Spanish guy I wrote about on dA.
Okay that's enough for now. Bye!
November 2, 2007
Post
Creative title, jah? You know you love it.
Well, I don't actually have all that much to say, it's really late and I'm tired, but I didn't have any reason not to write anything at all, so here we are.
Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!
I plan to...
Well, I don't actually have all that much to say, it's really late and I'm tired, but I didn't have any reason not to write anything at all, so here we are.
Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!
I plan to...
November 1, 2007
New Decision
I have randomly decided that November is my favorite month.
Isn't that a nice idea? I guess it's sort of like affirmations or something, I have absolutely no reason to make this statement, but I think it'd be fun to have a really kickass month, so Ima say it's my favorite and just sorta go with what happens. Because, I mean, how could your favorite month ever be bad?
So this month will totally rock. Look out people, I'm having basically the time of my life, just because I told myself I would.
And that type of thing totally works, too. Kinda weird, how much control we really have over our experiences in life. It seems to me like each interaction is a total wild card, completely dependent on the other person's responses to you. But this is not the case. People are very predictable. This is why we have screenwriters who can write realistic dialogue. Conversation is easy. Maybe it's just me, but I somehow doubt it. I can run through long complicated conversations in my head by just thinking of two simple characters with simple motives, without even having to exert myself. And I get weird looks from passers-by who just see me pacing around muttering to myself about whatever random shit I'm talking about.
K long day tomorrow, gonna go sleep, bye!
Isn't that a nice idea? I guess it's sort of like affirmations or something, I have absolutely no reason to make this statement, but I think it'd be fun to have a really kickass month, so Ima say it's my favorite and just sorta go with what happens. Because, I mean, how could your favorite month ever be bad?
So this month will totally rock. Look out people, I'm having basically the time of my life, just because I told myself I would.
And that type of thing totally works, too. Kinda weird, how much control we really have over our experiences in life. It seems to me like each interaction is a total wild card, completely dependent on the other person's responses to you. But this is not the case. People are very predictable. This is why we have screenwriters who can write realistic dialogue. Conversation is easy. Maybe it's just me, but I somehow doubt it. I can run through long complicated conversations in my head by just thinking of two simple characters with simple motives, without even having to exert myself. And I get weird looks from passers-by who just see me pacing around muttering to myself about whatever random shit I'm talking about.
K long day tomorrow, gonna go sleep, bye!
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