I made the team. I like feeling like I can really compete. Not sure what that means for next year, though. Depends on what I write.
A new piece did well. Shit, old pieces did well. I probably won’t have the energy to recall everything tomorrow.
It was good to talk to cute boys, though.
I have a few first memories. My first memory of taking a picture: 3 years old, black cowboy hat, on top of a pony with a cloth in the background, taken at an Albertson’s (now a Trader Joe’s). First memory of a family trip: 4 years old at Magic Mountain. First Halloween memory: being E.T. when I was 4.
But I remember the first song I ever loved: “Rock Around the Clock” by Bill Haley and the Comets. I was about 3 or 4.
My parents had diverging musical tastes: Dad was an Elvis guy, into ’50′s rock, jazz and swing-tinged big band. Mom was a Beatles woman, into the Stones, Simon & Garfunkel, The Hollies, while having an affection for the Barber Shop Quartet music her grandfather used to sing to her.
Mom was the one with the vinyl, so I would go through her collection all the time. She’d put records on when we were cleaning the house (okay, she did more cleaning than me, but I helped– well, sorta) or she’d put the radio on the oldies station. When Dad first opened his bar This Is It on the Strip back in the early ’80s, he had one arcade game in there (“Crazy Climber”), a pinball machine, and a jukebox that played 45s.
When Dad was busy in the office, and I didn’t feel like helping him count money or stamp checks for the bank, he’d give me some quarters, and if nobody was in the bar, the bartender would let me make my own Shirley Temple and I’d amuse myself until he was done. And I’d always go to the jukebox, put in a quarter, and play “Rock Around the Clock.” The customers had no idea what to do. Some 4 year-old little girl playing Bill Haley and The Comets?
I was on my way to becoming a music (not quite) nerd. Something about that song, the movement. I would always think of American Bandstand, even though the version of that show that was on in the ’80s was drastically different. In a way, I was almost being taught to count by that song.
I guess I liked rock and roll before I even knew what it was.
Bill Haley and His Comets – Rock Around the Clock from the box set Rock N’ Roll Era: 1954 – 1964
(This mp3 is for evaluation purposes only. I’m not here to make money, just share love. Go buy it if you want your own!)
Mostly, just feeling like I have no life lately. Like nobody wants to hang out with me.
Or maybe I just want some attention, some kind of affirmation that I’m alive. Not sure what that means.
I deleted all my poetry and my artist page at MySpace. Here’s why:
6 Proprietary Rights in Content on MySpace.com.
1. By displaying or publishing (“posting”) any Content, messages, text, files, images, photos, video, sounds, profiles, works of authorship, or any other materials (collectively, “Content”) on or through the Services, you hereby grant to MySpace.com, a non-exclusive, fully-paid and royalty-free, worldwide license (with the right to sublicense through unlimited levels of sublicensees) to use, copy, modify, adapt, translate, publicly perform, publicly display, store, reproduce, transmit, and distribute such Content on and through the Services.
Which means that even though I own the content, just because I post it on MySpace, they can do whatever they want with it? Without paying me for it? Are you fucking kidding me?
No, thanks. I’ll just keep it all over here on this server, thanks.
Last night, I broke my personal bowling best: 199. Something about bowling is very cleansing. Also, not losing money is very cleansing.
Taking three days off from running was probably the best thing I could’ve done. I feel better today– not as tired, more rested.
The script is at about the 1.5 stage. There’s a little more I have to get in there before I get it to readers.
I’ve been thinking about strategy for Saturday’s Grand Slam. And then I don’t think about it. Being at the gym works things out.
Basically, being in my own bubble, where I don’t have to have an opinion about anyone else, and nobody’s talking about things I can’t relate to, is the best thing in the world. However, it makes me feel more alone than the conversations I can’t relate to.
My body wants to run, but my head doesn’t. So I won’t. If it means I’ll feel better on Monday, I won’t.
I’m not having a good day today. A positive: I got my mile and a half in today. A negative: I’m bummed out, for many reasons that I’m not going to discuss here.
Jocelyn’s playing a old-school Michael Jackson medley in the office right now, so it’s making me feel better.
I think it’s time to start making some lists. Not plans, lists. I need to put down what’s in my head about myself. Let’s go.
Okay. So I’m going to try something new today. Blogger is about to have an outage in about 45 minutes, so I have to make this quick before I head away from work and towards working on the TV pilot.
I’m going to post a song. And it’s my favorite song right now. I stumbled across it jumping through mp3 blogs. I love finding new songs that way. And maybe you’ve heard this song before, or not, whatever. It’s brilliant.
I have been an appreciative listener of Sufjan Stevens for a long time. Now, I say “appreciative listener” instead of something else like fan or crazy because, honestly, my patience with male singer-songwriters wore thin after going to college during the Dave Matthews Era.
The thing that hooked me was his cover of R.E.M.’s “The One I Love,” from last year’s SXSW festival. It kills me still to this day. Other than another song called “Size Too Small” from a Christian-themed album he released called Seven Swans, I haven’t heard enough to say I love his music.
But I love this song. I love the intimate sound of a banjo that’s, for me, taken out of conxtext. And the refrain at the end, with male/female voices, is just beauty.
I can’t stop listening to this song. Right now its texture is creating a character for the script. I hear the song and I see the character. I’m not sure if it’s her theme song yet, though. She’s got too much of a past to have a theme, really.
Sufjan Stevens – For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti from the album Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lake State
(Please, this mp3 is for evaluation purposes. You should delete it within 24 hours and go buy the bloody album!)
It’s nights like this when I want my girls around.
But I always make it through, regardless.
I am productive. And loveable.
