Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
How do you start blogging again after you’ve not caressed the keys in nigh six months? Just like this, kiddos. You can stop dancing for joy now. Well, okay, if you insist. But only the Jitterbug. That’s right! Jitterbug for me, baby!!
Not a lot has changed in the past forever. Wait, no, everything has changed. I still have my job and my sweet sweet little apartment, but now I’m producing music videos on the side and spring is coming, and I keep making awesome new friends. And life feels a little different, a little better, a little more like this life I’ve been building for myself is really going somewhere awesome. And I like it.
Apartment update: Still no internet at home, but last week I finally got salt and pepper for my kitchen (what? i didn’t need it for the first five months.) Still need to paint the green green wall of dooooom. And buy a dresser. Other decorating ideas:
(Thanks xkcd.com!)
I am SO so SOOOO excited for the approaching Madness of March. OMG basketball is the best ever. Well, the NCAA kind anyway. ROCK CHALK JAYHAWK. I can chant louder than Johnny Mc can sing his stupid tarheel song. Yup, brakets all filled out, I’m ready to watch. Wheeeee!
Other than that I can’t think of anything else to update you with at the moment. Well, I could, but I don’t feel like typing out six months of inside jokes and things to link you to. For now, you can just happily settle with the idea that that this little typy-typer is back in the proverbial game. You know, this whole interwebby-blogorific game thing.
Monday, October 1st, 2007
The iPhone is sooo sexy, and all the cool kids have one. I like to imagine that trying to decide whether or not to buy one is a bit like trying to decide whether or not you want do date that pretty football player (he’s the quarterback, but everyone says he’s the one who’s been spreading the Clap. ew.).
In other news, after several days of a cold-drugged daze and sleeeeeep, I’m finally feeling better! Woo! I hate being sick, but evidently just pretending that you’re not doesn’t make it go away any faster. Damn.
Hellooooooo Monday. I would like to request a nap. Thanks.
Tuesday, September 25th, 2007
it wasn’t until I had gotten off the train and was defrosting in the sunlight, discussing the Lord’s prayer with a nice stranger named Tom, that I realized just how incredibly much I had needed to be not in the citycity this weekend. and it was wonderful. I absolutely love Baltimore, and getting to spend two full days in the company of my best friend in a city that makes me happy was very yespleasethisiswonderful. and if any of you have a best friend who you only get to see for brief, fleeting fall days, or ice skating moments, will know what i mean. seeing them is like coming home.
now here I am after two days of fun, my ears full of ben’s beautiful piano, a brain full of a new perspective, a goal for each month until the end of the year (and yes i am including book-writing and drink-lessening and gym-joining among a few others). I’m ready to tuck in for a while, make mixes for the dressing room, pen letters to cross oceans and forests and pick out kitschy plates to match the kitchen-nook.
and i am so thrilled to be moving soon, to my studio (Studio! Studio! if it sounds fancy and stuck up, that’s because it is. you know how i roll). to own space and bookshelves and a bathtub that doesn’t clog. Hmm… getting there, however, is going to involve boxes i don’t have right now and movers i haven’t met yet. luckily there is a nice stash of bubble wrap in that corner over there (i’m not sure why, but who really cares).
and despite it being an everyday reality that my life is the polar opposite of a year ago, that certain song today took me from my cubicle back to days of being curled among the candles in face’s living room waiting for wednesday jazzhaus adventures. and truth be told, i think the homesickness is grieving. i glaze over those first few months of lonely when people say “i amazed you did that yourself”. i shrug it off and smile blithely and change the subject. changes are they don’t want to hear that the only thing that kept me going was that giving up would be just as miserable but with much less chance for eventual awesomeness. they don’t want me to say “don’t use past tense, i’m still doing this and trust me, it still sometimes sucks”. it hurts and nothing will really change that, though over time you’ll grow in new and different and other ways. there will always be pieces of you that no one will understand like we do. and i say this now, toyou, my love: know exactly what I mean when I say that this is how it works. you gave me those words to carry close to my heart, and now I give them back to you to bounce off the mountains.
now, all that being said, I’m curled in bed, and having gotten only three hours last night, my pillow is looking like way more fun than this keyboard (don’t be jealous Keys, i love you and Pillow equally!)
my verbose (and possibly incoherent) tendencies tonight would like to leave you with this: A True Story That Might Be A Metaphor But Is Really Just True.
One night a girl was walking to the train after a rewarding day of work and caffeine and daydreaming. As she passed the trashcan, she noticed that the whole thing was overflowing with flowers, as though some lovers quarrel had landed them there, or as though the trashcan was preparing to dress up as a planter for halloween. Stopping to admire, she picked a handful of white daisies and carried them home to brighten up her life (and her bedroom).
See? Even when you’re sleep deprived, you never know when the Cork-gods are going to deliver you an impromptu bouquet of your favorite flowers.
Friday, September 14th, 2007
I have a love hate relationship with my job. I work with an extremely interesting and intelligent man, who I learn something from almost every day. It’s given the OCD side of me a chance to do positive organizational things that I somehow have never been able to utilize to clean my bedroom. But here and there I hate the wastefulness of the big corporation, the red tape and inefficiency, the direction it’s all going, and the fact that we didn’t move to an office today where I would have twice as much space and a window because my boss didn’t like the other view. Sigh. To be fair his office overlooks central park, the east river and Brooklyn. It’s sweet. I just miss sunlight during the day…
It’s been a good week, but a really hard week too. Bekah was here, Fools and Horses were in town, John played Rockwood. I’m rethinking some things. I’m moving soon, trying new things (good and bad). Steph will be here soon and I’m excited to see her and go to a show but ridiculously sad to be missing Wakey!Wakey! opening for Jukebox the Ghost at Piano’s. I want to tour manage. I want to work as a consultant. I want to read that book and I want to listen to this Prince song on repeat for the rest of the night.
The work day is over. I have a project my brain has been building for ages and needs to get out. Glah! Weekend weekend bring me your spare time for crafts and creativity and sleep.
Monday, September 10th, 2007
My darling Spike. We were married on the porch, we danced in the yard. I always thought wifey would be at the other end of the phone. You are always sunshine and rainbows and a smile that lights up life. We are the lucky ones to know and remember you.
Melissa Spike Evans. I love you.
Friday, September 7th, 2007
All of a sudden I feel like I’m at an end. I’m floating in this space where I’m hovering, having finished up all the expense reports and apartment finding and to-do list items and my head is swirling a bit with the question, what next? haha, and as I typed that question mark just now, my question was answered: Nothing left for me to do but dance. And there I go straight from feeling philosophical into feeling whimsical.
I think you know what I mean. (Canned heat, kids. Canned heat. It’s Friday, and dear lord, it’s on.)
It’s nice though, like one of those moments when life lets you pause and breathe. Bills? Paid. Spending money, check. My living situation settled itself out, and I’m moving to the upper east side in a month or so. Friends, check. Music and then some. Health? Restored. What else could a girl ask for?
It’s not like an end like love is at an end of roses, it’s more a pausing. The momentary stillness between tides, between breaths. For that one instant everything is calm, slow motion, no motion, and then it all kicks into high gear again. And since my life has been in dire need of a good pause lately, even if it’s only for a couple hours, I’m going with it. I’ll embrace it, then brace myself for when the rush comes. Cause in this city, the rush always comes.
It’s been a good day. I wore my new skirt. And I supported revolutionaries. I’m sure this all makes perfect sense.
Tonight: Jukebox the Ghost @ Piano’s NYC
Tuesday, August 28th, 2007
OK. New York, today is yours. Take it and do your stupid victory dance elsewhere while I curl up in my room. I forevermore swear that I will think before I mention show dates in public forums. I will not leave personal items in the living room (heaven forbid). I will not drink on weeknights, pick cute boys over friends or kid myself that I’m ever going to date again. And I’m not sure exactly how this is your fault, but what’s with the creeping in of what is sure to be a really awesome cold? Is it the same sort of physical punishment as the mysterious bruise that is covering my entire right knee?
I am probably going to move. Again. And that will make four apartments in one year. After a few months of couch surfing. Why do I even bother to unpack? I love the location, the fact I have my own room, with a door, and free reign to paint everything hot pink if I feel any sort of inclination. But other things are afoot and, silly me, I have this misguided assumption that I should want to go home, and feel less stressed when I’m there. Could just be making that up though, for now we’ll just chalk that one up to my midwest naivety.
Really though, New York, I think we should take a break. This 45 hour work week is just not my style. And my mom is making Pot Roast in honor of my homecoming and I don’t think it’s fair that I haven’t seen my dad in 5 months. But sometime this week before I leave, dirty citycity, throw me a bone. Because despite the sometimes love in our love/hate relationship, your powerful displays of breakdancers and fancy lights, I’m going home. I’ll see the stars, I’ll see my friends, I’ll be able to afford things and right now I’m thinking I just might need a pretty strong reason to even come back. Better than that pretty boy from Greenpeace or your deliciously pretentious music scene.
Friday, August 17th, 2007
I’ve been bouncing off the cubicle walls all day ba bounce ba bouncity bounce bounce. Hellooooooo Friday! Mr. Boss keeps throwing me things to do and I’m knocking em out left and right. It’s one of those good days, where everything seems to just click into place. Wonderful wonderful wonderful not to feel like I’m drowning in receipts and invoices (though always with a good soundtrack).
AND I bought a plane ticket home for laborday weekend which means: (among other things) I get to see my dad and mom, I get to go to Lawrence (Heaven) and see the whole crew and eat at El Mez. I’ll be able to pack up all my stuff for shipping to the city. Like my sewing machine (yes!) and my guitar and my books and a few other pieces of my soul that are still sitting in storage in my parent’s dining room. And stock up on things that a bajillion times cheaper in the midwest, like shampoo and clothes and fossil fuel and pretzles and real estate.
Somehow even though it’s only 4:30 the sun is gone and I feel a bit like I missed the cue to go home and I’ll be locked up in the building for the weekend and have to build a little bed out of reams of paper and work request forms. (I just checked: it’s rainy, not late. Still feels weird. Good thing I have a lamp.)
I was supposed to go see Manchester Orchestra at the Knitting Factory last night, and then I didn’t get hooked up with a free ticket, but I went anyway and bought a ticket at the door and the show was brilliantly amazing. And when I came in today, J from upstairs had a signed copy of the album on vinal and a signed poster and that is totally sweet.
The song I’m listening to RIGHT NOW just made me want to learn to play harmonica. Maybe I’ll start with the Kazoo and work my way up.
Tuesday, August 14th, 2007
I promise I still exist, in a fashion. I think I was starting to fade with a peculiar brand of ennui that I couldn’t seem to shake. Do you remember me? I used to be fun, I think. Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I trip over that trash can. (No, seriously, this clumsiness has become an issue. There are only so many walls a girl can run into. Literally.) I needed some time and a knock to the head to start looking for myself again. It’s coming back. Me? I love the horn section in that song. And candles. And my sewing machine. I got my computer back, and I got shelves to hold my shoes and new book or two to indulge in. I made my bed the other day and then jumped on it. Oh yes oh yes where’s the cotton candy? This place is awesome and I don’t know why I’ve been doing anything other than throwing myself into it whole-heartedly.
Come on, lets go wander the city and find chocolate crepes and real apple cider. I can’t wait for fall!
Saturday, July 28th, 2007
Just over a month ago I dropped my phone in the sewer. My ipod only plays about a third of the songs I have on there, and now, my laptop decided to start randomly shutting itself off. Awesome. And the some other things happened that have kept me fairly internet-less and unable to give you a fair update of the randomness of my life. Random. Awesome. And then some.
The story:
John McGrew and I went out for drinks a couple weeks ago. It was a Monday. I wore blue. When we started talking, I asked John about things. It turned out that John’s awesome promotion couldn’t take place until they found him a replacement. Light bulb went off over everyone’s heads. It was great. I sent him my resume, spent a rough Staff week at one of the summer camps with no ac, and then came home and interviewed. And waited in anticipation. And then they called and said, “We’d like to welcome you to the Sony BMG Family”. On a Monday.
So I’m on my second job in NYC, working for the New Technology Dept at Sony BMG and it still seems surreal. I’m just hanging out with John in my new office while he trains me on TPS Report Cover Sheets and all that good news. And it’s all music. All of it. All the time. It’s heavenly.
For now I’m out of time, but I promise that I’ll start updating you on my city city adventures more often as soon as I’m done training and/or get my laptop back from the Man Who Can Fix Anything (my dad).