Friday, June 29, 2012
Chuckling... just a tiny bit.
http://jezebel.com/5657391/the-good-ol-days-of-advertising-when-subtext-was-for-sissies/gallery/1
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
AHH almost 25....
Today I went indoor skydiving.
Tomorrow maybe I'll do one of the things on the list below, because, you know, I am turning 25 in only 20 days, and I've only done about half of these things (if I am being honest with myself)!
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/25-things-to-do-before-you-turn-25/
For those of you still awaiting being a quarter century (and there are still a solid handful of us left...), better start plugging away!
Tomorrow maybe I'll do one of the things on the list below, because, you know, I am turning 25 in only 20 days, and I've only done about half of these things (if I am being honest with myself)!
http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/25-things-to-do-before-you-turn-25/
For those of you still awaiting being a quarter century (and there are still a solid handful of us left...), better start plugging away!
Friday, June 22, 2012
play it like frank.
I've almost always been into Sinatra.
It started very young, watching Anchors Aweigh countless times as a young kid (though I'm a Gene Kelly gal all the way, sigh), and also other musicals I'd watched and rewatched . It intensified with a foray into jazz (safe-jazz, as I like to call the earlier stuff) at a music camp over the summer, 6th grade?, where Steph and I played in a jazz band as an elective to the core music classes/ensembles. We had a fiery instructor with a bit of a wonky eye, and he'd just snap 'play it like Frank!' all the time, which didn't have a ton of meaning to the youngsters more concerned with the faction of awkward boy trombone players. Steph and I, years later, got to see 'Come Fly Away', the full-length Tharp set purely to Sinatra, soon before it closed in NYC. We are very lucky to have caught it, I think it was so beautiful for just enjoyable/easy to watch (but not simple) dance... Anyways, not in the mood to go on and on, but between music, movies and notoriety, I've always been intrigued.
So, I think because I am reading this (it's REALLY well-written- if anyone wants to borrow) and my allotted recreational brain think-space is therefore currently fascinated by all things life-of-Frank, I did a short combo to some Sinatra tonight. It wasn't really difficult or elaborate, but instead it was just fun and let me toe the line somewhere in the vast greyspace between mod/contemp and jazz/musical theatre. I didn't even get to the good parts and it felt goooooooood. So good that I took the long way home, shuffling through the Sinatra selection on my iPod quite loud, with the car windows open, scaring the homeless people scattered along my route.
I rediscovered this guy, forgetting how much I love the song. I think it's the 'don't you know, you fool' line that does it, I embarrassingly and yet consistently wish I could jump back in time to be serenaded with it... the whole mentality/reality use is fun.
Singers in the past used to really sing their song to you, instead of just the 'i'm checked out and singing through auto-tune cause I'm going to get millions' singers of today. Tangent, yes, but that's ok because I'm happy with my awkward iPod mixes of Tom Waits, Sinatra, Queen, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Jack White, Hendrix and the Beach Boys (uh huh, all in one playlist)... even though most people I know refuse to listen to my crazy mixes because they can't stand the random variety. Sometimes I throw in the Beatles, the Faint, and Gil Scott-Heron... it's like the black hole of playlists.
Semi-pointless entry, but it was a gorgeous sunny day, I've been outside a ton playing in the sun, we got three great new dancers for Mythos:Pathos, I am embarking upon new work, and I have done nothing but what I wanted to do for the past two days.
It started very young, watching Anchors Aweigh countless times as a young kid (though I'm a Gene Kelly gal all the way, sigh), and also other musicals I'd watched and rewatched . It intensified with a foray into jazz (safe-jazz, as I like to call the earlier stuff) at a music camp over the summer, 6th grade?, where Steph and I played in a jazz band as an elective to the core music classes/ensembles. We had a fiery instructor with a bit of a wonky eye, and he'd just snap 'play it like Frank!' all the time, which didn't have a ton of meaning to the youngsters more concerned with the faction of awkward boy trombone players. Steph and I, years later, got to see 'Come Fly Away', the full-length Tharp set purely to Sinatra, soon before it closed in NYC. We are very lucky to have caught it, I think it was so beautiful for just enjoyable/easy to watch (but not simple) dance... Anyways, not in the mood to go on and on, but between music, movies and notoriety, I've always been intrigued.
So, I think because I am reading this (it's REALLY well-written- if anyone wants to borrow) and my allotted recreational brain think-space is therefore currently fascinated by all things life-of-Frank, I did a short combo to some Sinatra tonight. It wasn't really difficult or elaborate, but instead it was just fun and let me toe the line somewhere in the vast greyspace between mod/contemp and jazz/musical theatre. I didn't even get to the good parts and it felt goooooooood. So good that I took the long way home, shuffling through the Sinatra selection on my iPod quite loud, with the car windows open, scaring the homeless people scattered along my route.
I rediscovered this guy, forgetting how much I love the song. I think it's the 'don't you know, you fool' line that does it, I embarrassingly and yet consistently wish I could jump back in time to be serenaded with it... the whole mentality/reality use is fun.
Singers in the past used to really sing their song to you, instead of just the 'i'm checked out and singing through auto-tune cause I'm going to get millions' singers of today. Tangent, yes, but that's ok because I'm happy with my awkward iPod mixes of Tom Waits, Sinatra, Queen, Ella Fitzgerald, Nina Simone, Jack White, Hendrix and the Beach Boys (uh huh, all in one playlist)... even though most people I know refuse to listen to my crazy mixes because they can't stand the random variety. Sometimes I throw in the Beatles, the Faint, and Gil Scott-Heron... it's like the black hole of playlists.
Semi-pointless entry, but it was a gorgeous sunny day, I've been outside a ton playing in the sun, we got three great new dancers for Mythos:Pathos, I am embarking upon new work, and I have done nothing but what I wanted to do for the past two days.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
recording time
I've really been wanting to go swimming lately. Ocean, or a really deep pool. No lakes, no shallow water, please.
I miss spending summers in Ogunquit ME for this reason, and more. From second grade through late high school my mom would rent a house or condo and we would go wreck havoc, get too much sun, dig up too many poor unsuspecting sea creatures, have too much ice cream, etc.
My favorite part of an annual 2 weeks at the beach was waiting all day long for tide that's weak enough to cross where the Ogunquit River dumps into the Atlantic. The photo below is the same beach, so it would be swimming from the background, where all the people are, to the rocky area in the foreground (except there was never a lifeguard). If you were lucky enough to make it all the way across without chickening out or getting pushed back by the strong current, and if memory served you right, you could find the one big rock to climb to the tip of, and dive really deep into the water! Only one of the rocks led to a huge deep spot worthy of a dive, the other rocks were only jump or cannonball deep. I can remember standing at the edge of the slippery rock, with barnacles cutting my toes and making them bleed, totally exhilarated and ready to plummet off the edge. Once you closed your eyes and hit the water you could tell you did it right because it seemed so dark, behind your eyelids, and you could smell (sense? why would I be sniffing under water...) a strong tide pool smell. You could dive and dive and dive into the salty water until you realized that you were almost screwed to get back to the other side of the ocean and had to swim with every bit of strength you had left to do so. Yes, this is the beach where I got sucked out to sea many years ago.
I miss spending summers in Ogunquit ME for this reason, and more. From second grade through late high school my mom would rent a house or condo and we would go wreck havoc, get too much sun, dig up too many poor unsuspecting sea creatures, have too much ice cream, etc.
My favorite part of an annual 2 weeks at the beach was waiting all day long for tide that's weak enough to cross where the Ogunquit River dumps into the Atlantic. The photo below is the same beach, so it would be swimming from the background, where all the people are, to the rocky area in the foreground (except there was never a lifeguard). If you were lucky enough to make it all the way across without chickening out or getting pushed back by the strong current, and if memory served you right, you could find the one big rock to climb to the tip of, and dive really deep into the water! Only one of the rocks led to a huge deep spot worthy of a dive, the other rocks were only jump or cannonball deep. I can remember standing at the edge of the slippery rock, with barnacles cutting my toes and making them bleed, totally exhilarated and ready to plummet off the edge. Once you closed your eyes and hit the water you could tell you did it right because it seemed so dark, behind your eyelids, and you could smell (sense? why would I be sniffing under water...) a strong tide pool smell. You could dive and dive and dive into the salty water until you realized that you were almost screwed to get back to the other side of the ocean and had to swim with every bit of strength you had left to do so. Yes, this is the beach where I got sucked out to sea many years ago.
I think the best part of the above water activity was returning to the rented house, and feeling wonderfully physically exhausted. Arms, legs, core, and best of all lungs. I remember laying in the dark, waiting for sleep, but feeling that great internal rocking you can only experience after a day in the waves.
I stole the photos in this entry from this blog post I randomly found. The pictures are great, a very clear representation of the town.
I HAD to include the following photo... because it reminded me of one of my first awkward/awesome life experiences.
If you ever visit OGT you will, doubtlessly, walk the Marginal Way- a walkable stretch of the Maine coast. You can walk on the paved parts, or you can be badass and take the rocks! Anyways, one nice summer evening we decided to do a second Marginal Way walk in one day... I was sulking because I wasn't allowed to go crazy on the rocks and cliffs, nor was I allowed to run the crushed stone paths barefoot, per order of various adults that didn't want to waste time/prolong the walk/have a kid fall in the ocean. In an attempt to make my evening more exciting and to really prove my sulky point, I ventured into each little outlet of the main path. It was here, on this EXACT bench, that 9-year-old me (literally) stumbled upon a mid-twenties couple ridiculously going at it in the almost-dark. Of course I muttered some jack-ass 'good-evening-kind-sir' remark, and ran away laughing entirely too loud. Not much has changed.
I really wish I got to experience Ogunquit at my current age/place in life (really, I was going to say adult and then stopped myself...yikes!). It is such a little peaceful seaside village, with so much low key art... it would have been the best place to spend some time gathering and putting together my thoughts.
If anyone actually reads this entry you get 10 points. Really it was intended just to capture a few moments I love to look back on, before they flitted out of my mind again. However, if you are still reading, you have no excuse not to want to go visit. I'd be happy to provide you a list of things to check out!
Monday, June 18, 2012
My non-problem is that I don't want to say no to anything, because everything is a new experience!
Life isn't a video game, though, and so one doesn't have to beat the game by trying everything. At the same time, once you beat the real life game you don't get to come back for the unlocked free/adventure mode. SO, I feel ok about doing what I please/investigating my curiosities as long as they fall short of murder, major theft, or something extra-destructive.
Someday, when all of my time is up, I feel like I'll have a decently full autobiography (even if unwritten) and such a high total score from all of the points I've accumulated from playing the hell out of the life game.
Life isn't a video game, though, and so one doesn't have to beat the game by trying everything. At the same time, once you beat the real life game you don't get to come back for the unlocked free/adventure mode. SO, I feel ok about doing what I please/investigating my curiosities as long as they fall short of murder, major theft, or something extra-destructive.
Someday, when all of my time is up, I feel like I'll have a decently full autobiography (even if unwritten) and such a high total score from all of the points I've accumulated from playing the hell out of the life game.
it's all good...
Idealists, as a temperament, are passionately concerned with personal growth and development. Idealists strive to discover who they are and how they can become their best possible self -- always this quest for self-knowledge and self-improvement drives their imagination. And they want to help others make the journey. Idealists are naturally drawn to working with people, and whether in education or counseling, in social services or personnel work, in journalism or the ministry, they are gifted at helping others find their way in life, often inspiring them to grow as individuals and to fulfill their potentials. Idealists are sure that friendly cooperation is the best way for people to achieve their goals. Conflict and confrontation upset them because they seem to put up angry barriers between people. Idealists dream of creating harmonious, even caring personal relations, and they have a unique talent for helping people get along with each other and work together for the good of all. Such interpersonal harmony might be a romantic ideal, but then Idealists are incurable romantics who prefer to focus on what might be, rather than what is. The real, practical world is only a starting place for Idealists; they believe that life is filled with possibilities waiting to be realized, rich with meanings calling out to be understood. This idea of a mystical or spiritual dimension to life, the "not visible" or the "not yet" that can only be known through intuition or by a leap of faith, is far more important to Idealists than the world of material things. Idealists are relatively rare, making up no more than 15 to 20 percent of the population. But their ability to inspire people with their enthusiasm and their idealism has given them influence far beyond their numbers. |
hodge podge of thoughts.
Finally watching the season finale of Mad Men... bahhhhhhhhhhh! What is it with AMC shows- I'm so obsessed with Breaking Bad for its fabulously subtle and intelligent layering and foreshadowing of plot and it's downright amazing sound creations.
This was the first weekend in awhile that didn't feel short (too short), and I am so grateful for that. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights all started or ended with gin and solid conversation/discussion from a variety of locations including my backyard, Oberon/Harv Sq, and a chilly rooftop bar in South Boston overlooking the harbor. Usually sitting and talking and enjoying the moment doesn't happen often enough...
Unfortunately things phase out and shut down too quickly/early in this city. In new york it's easy to lose track of time until it's morning, but when closing time taps you on the shoulder in boston I always feel a bit let down and also out of options; there are no fields to go lay in with your friends and be silly about made-up constellations, no one's parents' hot tubs to mischievously skinny dip in, no unnecessary trips to one of only 2 stores open 24-hours a day just for hijinxs. OR, maybe this is all just an attempt to not become a 25-year old adult in just one month.
I am having blooming choreographic/concept ideas vault around my head. I'm seriously wishing I didn't have to work at all this summer and I could just dive into creating and thinking and researching and thinking and so on. I'm finding myself working wonderfully backwards- my brain picked a few stories I wanted to dive into months ago, but only now am I finding myself making connections and filling in the gaps and falling in love with each story. Maybe sometime I will share thoughts on my new projects here, but for now I don't want to write about them. I AM currently eager to share my thoughts and ideas, I just don't like to do so in this kind of format. Whoever is listening can't ask questions or share their thoughts/counter ideas, and it's too passive for me.
I feel bad for anyone stuck in their own minds and preconceptions. I've been encountering this all over the place, recently. I used to think I would be a horrible lawyer because I have the ability to see and understand anyone else's reasoning. Now I realize that I am safely rooted in my own ideas/morals/opinions, but able to try on other ideas/opinions- like a floaty piece of ocean-floor seaweed. I've come to love people being blatantly honest with me through their words, life is too short for games.
Time for a mango, because, you know, 12:32 is officially international mango time.
This was the first weekend in awhile that didn't feel short (too short), and I am so grateful for that. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights all started or ended with gin and solid conversation/discussion from a variety of locations including my backyard, Oberon/Harv Sq, and a chilly rooftop bar in South Boston overlooking the harbor. Usually sitting and talking and enjoying the moment doesn't happen often enough...
Unfortunately things phase out and shut down too quickly/early in this city. In new york it's easy to lose track of time until it's morning, but when closing time taps you on the shoulder in boston I always feel a bit let down and also out of options; there are no fields to go lay in with your friends and be silly about made-up constellations, no one's parents' hot tubs to mischievously skinny dip in, no unnecessary trips to one of only 2 stores open 24-hours a day just for hijinxs. OR, maybe this is all just an attempt to not become a 25-year old adult in just one month.
I am having blooming choreographic/concept ideas vault around my head. I'm seriously wishing I didn't have to work at all this summer and I could just dive into creating and thinking and researching and thinking and so on. I'm finding myself working wonderfully backwards- my brain picked a few stories I wanted to dive into months ago, but only now am I finding myself making connections and filling in the gaps and falling in love with each story. Maybe sometime I will share thoughts on my new projects here, but for now I don't want to write about them. I AM currently eager to share my thoughts and ideas, I just don't like to do so in this kind of format. Whoever is listening can't ask questions or share their thoughts/counter ideas, and it's too passive for me.
I feel bad for anyone stuck in their own minds and preconceptions. I've been encountering this all over the place, recently. I used to think I would be a horrible lawyer because I have the ability to see and understand anyone else's reasoning. Now I realize that I am safely rooted in my own ideas/morals/opinions, but able to try on other ideas/opinions- like a floaty piece of ocean-floor seaweed. I've come to love people being blatantly honest with me through their words, life is too short for games.
Time for a mango, because, you know, 12:32 is officially international mango time.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Ok! Two confusing and weird and rainy weeks behind me, and I'm feeling pretty good.
There have been way too many nontypical/frustrating/preventable(?)/work-inducing events in the past half months in so many facets of my life (luminarium/family/work), but all have been dealt with, thought over and settled and I feel like I am past them all.
I have a week or so left of work before a mini-vacation and change of pace for the summer. I feel slightly irresponsible because my body and brain are totally checked out, but it's not worth mental refocus and effort. Instead, I have new choreography to focus on! It feels great to read and research and jump on a new challenge...
pointless entry but I didn't want to leave my thoughts in such a grouchy place!
There have been way too many nontypical/frustrating/preventable(?)/work-inducing events in the past half months in so many facets of my life (luminarium/family/work), but all have been dealt with, thought over and settled and I feel like I am past them all.
I have a week or so left of work before a mini-vacation and change of pace for the summer. I feel slightly irresponsible because my body and brain are totally checked out, but it's not worth mental refocus and effort. Instead, I have new choreography to focus on! It feels great to read and research and jump on a new challenge...
pointless entry but I didn't want to leave my thoughts in such a grouchy place!
Saturday, June 2, 2012
life got twist-turned upside down
Note: 2 am post after a draining week means run-on/repetitive sentences, grammar awfulness and typos. Since this is obviously my blog, I don't really give a crap.
Silly me, last October, thinking that despite sadness it would be nice not spending weekends in hospitals/rehab centers for many more years. My mistake, life.
Now I get to learn alllllll about strokes and symptoms of damage, and enlarged hearts, and so many fun things that can take someone's life and make it unrecognizable in less than an hour. I also get to jump into the fun game of finding balance between built up years of hurt/frustration/anger/blame, more contemporary years of neutral disregard, and then the most recent renegade feelings of fright/sympathy/caring, and then applying them to this situation. I don't really think anyone deserves getting such a demotion from functional human being to weak broken dependent... and yet I've observed a 20 year old college student at MHC go through a stroke, two octogenarians go through it (one surviving two strokes, one not so lucky), and now my 57 year old dad, who was a menacing 6 foot plus strong guy with a brash loud voice with a twinge of Bahston accent (brought out more in large male-heavy groups). Now he is limply hanging out in a hospital bed making baby-sentences and looking bleary eyed. What the fuck. I'm a firm believer in OT/PT working some magic, but let's be honest, no one ever gets back to 100% from this low point. At the same time, this is obviously not a death sentence. It's just seeming to be a quality of life sentence, and that freaks me out as someone who makes an effort to take advantage of the many ridiculous adventurous and enjoyable things I can do in a day (week/month/year).
What is very weird is watching my mom bravely commandeer the situation, whatever personal feelings she has set aside, to try to figure out the future before it's too late to hold on to the everyday life she has created and enjoys. My dad makes a lot of money but his union job, wildly enough, doesn't give him any sick or vacation days- meaning it's a good thing he has a very specialized skill set without a lot of competition, otherwise he could easily be let go/laid off. However, while his job is fairly safe in the present, he doesn't get paid while he recovers, and he needs to hit a certain number of hours per year to keep his (my mom's/jenn's) health insurance. Now my mom needs to figure out how to take the lifestyle of $xxxk, and make it work on just her income, until my dad can magically go back to work. No wonder you see all those ridiculous commercials with old people griping about how they broke a hip, lost their house, and now are thousands of dollars in debt and have no way to finance their funeral expenses (this is a bit of an infomercial merge, sure). The strange part of this is that financially, with the threat of job loss/health insurance loss/crazy medical bills, this major life event doesn't affect me. I am an independent adult with my own mortgage and job and bills, and yet the empathy I am feeling translates to me wanting to shoulder some of this scary impending crisis, to be a part of whatever awful medical/financial snafu lands upon my parents. Who wishes for this?!
Through my late teen/young adult years I found (and still find) myself making mental note of everything my parents have done for me; from shouldering the majority of my 200k college education, to helping renovate my house weekend after weekend, bailing me out of sticky situations...the list goes on. I've constantly recognized how lucky/fortunate I am, and how some day, way down the road, I would have the opportunity to pay these favors back. Who would have guessed that time would come so soon...
Silly me, last October, thinking that despite sadness it would be nice not spending weekends in hospitals/rehab centers for many more years. My mistake, life.
Now I get to learn alllllll about strokes and symptoms of damage, and enlarged hearts, and so many fun things that can take someone's life and make it unrecognizable in less than an hour. I also get to jump into the fun game of finding balance between built up years of hurt/frustration/anger/blame, more contemporary years of neutral disregard, and then the most recent renegade feelings of fright/sympathy/caring, and then applying them to this situation. I don't really think anyone deserves getting such a demotion from functional human being to weak broken dependent... and yet I've observed a 20 year old college student at MHC go through a stroke, two octogenarians go through it (one surviving two strokes, one not so lucky), and now my 57 year old dad, who was a menacing 6 foot plus strong guy with a brash loud voice with a twinge of Bahston accent (brought out more in large male-heavy groups). Now he is limply hanging out in a hospital bed making baby-sentences and looking bleary eyed. What the fuck. I'm a firm believer in OT/PT working some magic, but let's be honest, no one ever gets back to 100% from this low point. At the same time, this is obviously not a death sentence. It's just seeming to be a quality of life sentence, and that freaks me out as someone who makes an effort to take advantage of the many ridiculous adventurous and enjoyable things I can do in a day (week/month/year).
What is very weird is watching my mom bravely commandeer the situation, whatever personal feelings she has set aside, to try to figure out the future before it's too late to hold on to the everyday life she has created and enjoys. My dad makes a lot of money but his union job, wildly enough, doesn't give him any sick or vacation days- meaning it's a good thing he has a very specialized skill set without a lot of competition, otherwise he could easily be let go/laid off. However, while his job is fairly safe in the present, he doesn't get paid while he recovers, and he needs to hit a certain number of hours per year to keep his (my mom's/jenn's) health insurance. Now my mom needs to figure out how to take the lifestyle of $xxxk, and make it work on just her income, until my dad can magically go back to work. No wonder you see all those ridiculous commercials with old people griping about how they broke a hip, lost their house, and now are thousands of dollars in debt and have no way to finance their funeral expenses (this is a bit of an infomercial merge, sure). The strange part of this is that financially, with the threat of job loss/health insurance loss/crazy medical bills, this major life event doesn't affect me. I am an independent adult with my own mortgage and job and bills, and yet the empathy I am feeling translates to me wanting to shoulder some of this scary impending crisis, to be a part of whatever awful medical/financial snafu lands upon my parents. Who wishes for this?!
Through my late teen/young adult years I found (and still find) myself making mental note of everything my parents have done for me; from shouldering the majority of my 200k college education, to helping renovate my house weekend after weekend, bailing me out of sticky situations...the list goes on. I've constantly recognized how lucky/fortunate I am, and how some day, way down the road, I would have the opportunity to pay these favors back. Who would have guessed that time would come so soon...
Friday, June 1, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)