Friday, April 30, 2004

here's another one

By John Keats (how could I forget the poem that graces the door to my room?):

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the fairy power
Of unreflecting love--then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

today is a special day!

It's Poem on Your Blog Day!. Inspired by Ms Lauren's steady stream of poetic posts, I will post for you one of my favorites. If you're lucky, I might even write one, later. After I finished editing that story I wrote, for Hans. Or before. I dunno. Anyway.

I have a penchant for beat poetry and spontaneous prose, thus I line my shelves with Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac and others, and I try to suppress my eternal desire to just let go of everything and travel, let the wind or I-Ching take me whichever way it pleases into experiences I can only dream about in upper-middle class suburban America. To be both an observer of the people living their lives normally, existing within the system, and an active participant in the communities of individuals making their own society (but without the junk habit). I present to you a poem by Ginsberg that never fails to raise an unholy and joyous giggle in my soul.
A Supermarket in California
What thoughts I have you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what where you doing down by the watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.

Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quite poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of the Lethe?

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

kickin' off sexism, tyne daly style

In an effort to make sure I remember and detail everything about this past weekend, I'm going to have a series of blogs on my different experiences. You'll have to bear with me as I have lots more to talk about. :)

Saturday night, Cara and I went to the Official March Kickoff, at the DC Armory. It was like one big variety show- hosted by the band Betty. I can't remember everyone that spoke, but a lot of big feminist names were there- Tyne Daly, Ellie Smeal, Gloria Feldt (whose book, The War on Choice I happened to be reading), okay, I'm totally drawing a blank. I took some pictures- we were fairly close to the stage. Kathy Najimy flashed us, but she had her bra on. Elizabeth from BETTY didn't, and her boobs said "Pro" and "Choice" respectively. I think that might be the first time I've been flashed. Rockin'. This chick, SONiA, rocks my socks. Imma getting a CD of hers when I get my paycheck. Oh yeah, we sang a song called "Every Sperm Does Not Deserve a Name" ("if so a man would found a nation every time he came") which still has me giggling. Also, the March For Women's Lives song (of the same title) by Judy Gorman is stuck in my head on constant loop today. Cris Williamson is rad.

Before all the festivities started, we wandered around the booths and checked out the merchandise. I got this t-shirt (except mine has rockin' hot pink lettering), and one of the offical march tees. Also, a button. I was torn between two other tshirts (one said "Wax Bush 2004" and the other "There's only one good Bush"), but I ended up getting neither. We got our official NOW "Keep Abortion Legal" signs (they had a tragic end...more on that later), and an older lady gave me her balloons off her table (they were blocking her view of the stage). One woman had a shirt on that said "I love Pro-Choice boys"--rock on. Lots of those at the march, one even holding a sign that said "Pro-choice and single"; he got lots of cheers. I thought it would be cool to have a make-out for choice, or a sex-in for choice or something. Heehehe.

Anyway, the kickoff. Good times. Afterward I got in touch with Marisa and we metroed over to her hotel, but she and Dennis were hell-bent on drinking, so we didn't talk long. I was hoping the cute and maybe lesbian girl who we talked to from the parking lot of our hotel would be up and around when we got back, but it was late, alas, and we were tired.

Speaking of tired... That's all you get for tonight. Tomorrow's installment will be the details of the March itself, including the anti-choicers and the rally. I have one picture left to take on my camera- likely I will quick snap a pic of Chipper tomorrow and have them for your disposable tomorrow evening.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

letter to the editor of the san diego tribune, 4/27/2004

Thank you for your story about the march on Washington that occurred this past Sunday, April 25th. I thought you might like to hear some reflections on the day from a pro-choice San Diegan who attended.

First of all, I spent the greater part of the morning meeting and making new friends among the San Diego attendees- almost 500 by their count! San Diego should be proud to know that so many people from our city were participating in democracy and speaking up for our reproductive rights.

It bothers me a little that the march was constantly referred to as an "abortion rights" rally, although I know that was the focus of the day, and is sadly the way it is often spun to polarize the issue into black and white. However, this march was about much more than just abortion. Attendees were rallying for more comprehensive sex education, access to over the counter emergency contraception, safer and healthier birth control, and more comprehensive health care that would benefit women and children. Internationally, the US's policies regarding family planning have been distastrous and will only serve to send third-world countries further into the depths of disease and poverty. Access to abortion is but one part of it, and if we could, as a country, improve our positions on these other issues it would in fact reduce the necessity for abortion. Not one of the marchers wants a woman to have to make a choice to end a pregnancy, but it remains a much-need option in cases of ill health, poverty, or tragedy. Dialogue that has created personhood rights for fetus causes harm and undue burden on women, putting them under extreme pressure from the law in a society that already dictates physical and social standards. Religious arguments against abortion are valid, and should be heard, but they have no place in the law of this country.

This march is the biggest of its kind, perhaps of any kind, in the history of the US. March organizers put the estimate at 1.15 million. There was a lot of anger, and demonstration on the part of the marchers, but overall the spirit of sisterhood, of fighting for a worthy cause, was the main feeling of the day. Anywhere you looked, people were smiling, laughing, and making friends and marching companions. The relief at being in a safe place away from the realities of sexism and racism was unbelievable- coming back on the plane I felt the burden tenfold but was stronger for what I had experienced.

Regardless of how one feels about reproductive rights, it is important in these times to reject imposition of religious ideologies that block and taint true, factual scientific evidence about our sexuality and reproductive capacities. We are a country that promises both freedom of religion and freedom from religion, and that's what the march was all about. Many people are concerned about the activities of our current president, and would like to see him truly stand up for the rights of the American people instead of bowing to pressure from very vocal (and rich) ideological minorities.

Thank you for the time you took to read my letter. If you have any other questions about the march or the people that attended, please feel free to contact me.

Lorn H
Rancho Bernardo

i'm baaaaack!

OH man, I should be sleeping. But, I wasn't able to sleep last night, I was so keyed up, and while I'm fucking exhausted and have lots to do tomorrow, I've been looking at pictures from the march and feeling all the excitement over again. Jerry's got some links that I'm too tired to research/post myself. I will have pictures for you- I got a disposable camera that promises me a free digital CD so I will find a way to get a photo album on the internet.

I wish I could live this weekend over and over again.

When it was all over, when I was sitting in the hotel room trying to piece together all of my emotions and package it up into one concise blog, the only thing I could really articulate was that I have never felt so happy. 1.15 million people, and all of them understood. I didn't have to explain or defend myself to anyone. People were smiling, laughing, introducing themselves, screaming and wetting their pants when they saw Ani D (I was), making clever signs and t-shirts, chanting empowering slogans, feeling angry, feeling like they could take on the world, challenging patriarchy, creating their own marvelous pro-woman world. And it was like a great weight was lifted from my shoulders. I had tears in my eyes the whole day, and when I wasn't crying, I was laughing from pure pure joy. I met some fantastic people. I felt the hatred that usually surrounds my ideals and beliefs dissolved and wrapped up in warmth. This is what the world could be like, if we'd only let it.

And when I realized that I have to go back into this world that requires me to be on the defensive and argue every nuance, every right til it's bloody and useless, that burden fell back on my shoulders ten times as heavy and as hard. I go between elation and depression- elation that my voice was heard, that I got to experience this and spread the word, and I feel my feminism and activism invigorated and twice as strong. Depression- I miss it. I miss that damn march. I miss all those people, most of whom I don't have names for, but all of them with gorgeous smiles and righteous attitudes. 1.15 million women and men, children, dogs even- the energy was unbelievable.

Ani. Fuckin' Ani. Did you hear her perfect guitar, her fabulous voice on my audblog? Right before she did Your Next Bold Move, she did the spoken word Grand Canyon from her new album. She's so beautiful. With Ani on our side, how could we lose? She's the goddess of everything.

And all these feminist icons. Gloria. Hillary (yes I saw Hillary!). Ellie Smeal. Barbara Boxer. Tyne Daly. Jesus, they just kept coming. The actors and artists: Julianne Moore and Camryn Mannheim, Kathy Najimy, Janneane Garafalo, Wanda Sykes, Moby, Sarah Weddington....

I can't believe I have to go live my regular life tomorrow. It's all a dream? It feels like it. But that's my voice on my blog, that's Ani singing to me and to everyone, and most of all to Bush, what the hell is your next bold move? Can you deny our numbers and our strength? Can't you at least stop to listen?

My pictures will come soon. Now, it's time for rest.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

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Friday, April 23, 2004

now, for the real thing

I'll be spending the night with Cara, as we're getting up at the buttcrack of dawn to drive to LAX. Thus, I bid you adieu until Sunday, when I will have an audio post for you about all the fun and exciting stuff I am doing (compressed into two short minutes). Watch the news, watch the papers, surf the internet-- you might see me, or at least the top of my head.

Hasta la vista!

okay, but i'd rather just make sweet love to you...

Westley / The Dread Pirate Roberts

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

Thursday, April 22, 2004

a few things to read today

In the "blind outrage" category, there's a bill going through the Michigan houses that will allow Michigan doctors refuse to treat gays if they so choose. The bill is being pushed by the Michigan Catholic Conference. Correct me if I'm wrong, but if someone thinks that there are people in the world who don't deserve proper and safe medical care, then they shouldn't become a doctor in the first place. Also, great Christian principles, guys. Way to represent compassion and servitude as a cornerstone of your religion. We must know a different Jesus, because that doesn't sound like the guy I know at all. From Republic of T.

Update: Another way to interpret the bill is here, seeing it as allowing health care professionals to refuse to fill prescriptions for birth control, EC, provide abortions, etc. Ah. So it's one of those kinds of things. One more thing to speak out against this weekend. (new link from Echidne of the Snakes)

In the "wow, that's scary and fascinating at the same time" category: The real reasons Columbine happened five years ago. The media was quick to peg this as a school shooting brought on by violent music, inconsiderate bullies, and blind teenage rage. Psychiatrists have been studying the two killers in the years since and have come to a much different conclusion. Read it. Sadly, this won't likely make it into mainstream news; it's too useful as evidence against people who seek to blame popular music and violence in movies as the driving force behind every criminal act. Via swirlspice.

In the "ooh, I'm excited, stoked, psyched, antsy, and all worked up" category: Look at all the fun stuff I get to do this weekend! I need to get a camera, and I'm thinking of getting one with black and white film along with a color one, to take some artistic, nostalgic shots. The color one, for when I meet Ani and squeal like a little boy. I'll also have to stop myself from buying every cool T-shirt I see.

In the "heehehee, that's priceless" category: Supermodel Personals. "Marblehead- Do you know the correct pronunciation of Commes des Garcons? WASP overachiever, blueblood scion of a successful horse breeding family seeks lazy, fat, alcoholic to hog the remote-control, and have sex in the coatroom at fancy parties. APRIL FOOLS! I'd never go out with a fat dude- though I'd consider lazy if you're hot." Via Green Fairy.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

okay, now i'm blogging from work

While I'm in DC, I'll be for obvious reasons unable to detail the experiences in written form. However, I've signed up for one free Audio Blog that I will use at the March on Sunday to give a brief update. Pretty cool, huh? Hopefully it'll work, and maybe I'll become instant chums with Ani DiFranco or Pink (yah, they'll be there!) and they will sing you a song instead. Who knows? I'm so excited, I can hardly sit still.

Note to self- cleaning waterbottle occasionally reduces your chances of drinking gross, grimy water.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

you've got questions? i've got answers

For Sheena:

1. What is your favorite beer? and why?
Berghoff Dark, because not only is it awesome, I have great memories attached to drinking Berghoff. Most of them are also related to Paisan's and Brass Bash.

2. What is it you love about the trombone?
A timely question, since I spent Saturday loving the trombone (minds out of the gutters, chaps!). There's lots of reasons, but above all I love that it is such a flexible sonic instrument-listening to that all trombone jazz ensemble brough the point home. It's the only instrument you can put in an ensemble with its ilk and have it sound as varied and textured as a diverse group. Lots of other instruments sound good in choirs, but not as orchestral.

3. What is the most important thing to you, what would you miss the most if it/them went away?
Trite, but true: Laughter. and I would miss laughter.

For Megan:

What's your favorite fish to eat out of a trombone?

Where do you want to be in 10 years?
Lorn aged 32...I can't even think about that right now. I'm freaked out enough by Bethany's last question.
But, to be fair: I want to be successful, in the sense that I have found a calling and enjoy what I'm doing (money is not a factor in my success, although money is nice), or at least am working my way to whatever my goal is. Be it an orchestra or chamber job, or perhaps something feminist-related, I just want to know that I am content with what I do.

If you could be any kind of chocolate, what would you be?

For Davis:

If you had a million dollars how would you spend it?
I would buy lots and lots of books and cds, and donate to all the organizations that keep asking me too except I can't afford it (NARAL, HRC, Buzzflash, the Buddhist monks, etc). Also, travel.

What is your favourite movie?
The Red Violin.

If you could have dinner with any famous person, alive or dead, who would you choose?
Katherine Hepburn. or Ani Difranco. Or Sergei Prokofiev. I can never choose.

For Ms Lauren:

1. Why?
existentialist answer: because we are all just a big booger in the nose of God.
normal, sad answer: Likely because I'm bored, or lonely, or both.

2. Most frustrating thing your mother ever said to you.
"You have to read both The Rules and Dr Laura's 10 Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives before you can start dating."
Ugh, back then it was annoying because it was motherly advice, now it's frustrating and infuriating because...well, you know why. *Shudder* I feel slimy just linking to that woman...

3. How about squash?
Squash is cool. I like cooking with Italian squash (the green kind) because it adds a nice flavor to stir fry.

For Bethany:

What's your favorite bar in Madison and why?
Hawk's. That place just feels so chill and friendly (that might be because every time I've gone there it's been chill, and I've been with friends), and I love the brick walls and warm tones. Even when busy, it's easy to feel at home. Also, great curly fries.
Paul's Club a close second.

What's the thing you hate most that some people do?
When someone passes him or herself as stupid or uninterested as an excuse to not learn or understand something new. People who are always whining about math get to me sometimes, because, I have to struggle with math too, but I kind of like it for that reason. Playing dumb is not cute, sexy, cool, or a way to get into my pants.

What are your main 3 goals in life from now until the end of the summer?
B-dogg, you have no idea how much it freaks me out that I can't answer this question. And it's only the summer! Not even, before I die, or before I'm 30 or something...
well, 1. Have some money in the bank
2. Turn 23 successfully, and have a good time whilst doing so.
3. Know where I'm going to be in August and start moving there.

For Jerry:

1) What did I eat yesterday?
I don't know. I know on Sunday you had a burrito from Q-doba, and I was jealous.

2) Why, in your Ani post, did you not discuss the utter brilliance that is Outta You, Onto Me (track 2) and Going Down (track 9) of Dilate? Undisputably the two best tracks on that album.
I don't know. They are good tracks, but the ones I quoted were most relevant for my mood. Truly, all the tracks are relevant to the mood in question, but that's a lot of tracks. Also, if you are so upset, write your own letter to Ani. Also also, I think Done Wrong is the best song on the album.

3) Where is the O.Z. and why did Jay-Z use to move snowflakes there? What does it mean?!
I have no idea what you're talking about. Ask better questions.

For Hans (keepin it real):

What's your favorite flavor?
Clam Chowder.

Which is your favorite finger?
Left pinky.

If you had to get rid of an animal species, which would it be?
Honestly? Homo sapiens.

Good questions, guys! Thanks for playing, see you next time on Make Lorn Think Hard and Long About the Meaning of Life.

dear ani difranco

I don't know what jerk broke your heart or what the circumstances were, but regardless, the music you make on Dilate just sends me spiraling back into what may not be a similar situation, but feels like it. From the beginning, from Untouchable Face, there is anger, mixed with sadness and acceptance that feels so familar. Ahem:
so fuck you
and your untouchable face
fuck you
for existing in the first place
and who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can't even tell me that much

and then, Superhero, desperation:
if i was dressed in my best defenses
would you agree to meet me for coffee
if i did my tricks with smoke and mirrors
would you still know which one was me
if i was naked and screaming
on your front lawn
would you turn on the light and come down
screaming, there's the asshole
who did this to me
stripped me of my power
stripped me down

But, you know these lyrics, you wrote them. It's for me that I repeat them, because it shocks me how much they resonate... It's Dilate that shakes me to the core, that speaks volumes about my own experience:
and you are so lame
you always disappoint me
it's kinda like our running joke
but it's really not funny
i just want you to live up to
the image of you i create
i see you and i'm so unsatisfied
i see you and i dilate

That chord, that you hit on "dilate." Damn, woman, that's where I start crying. Every time. What unholy goddess gave you the power to have some much control over my emotions? And how did you know? Isn't it hell? And although it's been years, although I've recovered, and I can't even say it was that big a deal, in the long run, in the grand scheme of things, and that I've moved on and become a better person for it, I remember this:
and now i'm tired
and i am broke
and i feel stupid and i feel used
and i'm at the end of my little rope
and i am swinging back and forth
about you

and before it gets so cold
that the rain turns to snow
there's just a couple things
i'd like to know

like how could you do nothing
and say, i'm doing my best
how could you take almost everything
and then come back for the rest
how could you beg me to stay
reach out your hands and plead
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as i agreed

I don't have any excuse to go through all of this in my head again. It's been rationalized, justified, and most of all, forgiven. I do it now because I can't complain about anything else. I have nothing better to do; my inner drama queen wants the pain and the heartbreak back. So, I listen to the things that remind me of the times, partly to feel something again, partly to get past it once and for all. Because somehow you understand this, you made Joyful Girl the last track...

i do it for the joy it brings
because i'm a joyful girl
because the world owes me nothing
and we owe each other the world
i do it because it's the least i can do
i do it because i learned it from you
and i do it just because i want to
because i want to

Through the fire we go, in each of our relationships, with all of the intensity and pain and hurt that we inflict on each other in the world. Like flint, we come out the other side harder, and more useful. Sharpened, and stronger. What does it matter what we've lost, when we've gained so much? What is a happy life, without the darkness inherent in living, to contrast it? I'm thankful for heartache, sometimes. It sounds silly to say, but I wouldn't have learned anything about the second time if I hadn't done it once before.

I love you, Ms Ani. I hope I see you in DC this weekend.
All my best,

Monday, April 19, 2004

meming it up, monday style

Via Republic of T.

(I'm not sure if this'll work, since you all are bad at answering questions I ask-ooh, burn. ;) Anyway, prove me wrong!)

This one has the potential to be an interesting exploratory exercise, and I'm interested in seeing what comes of it. Here's how it works.

I want everyone who reads this to ask me 3 questions, no more no less. You may ask me anything.

Then to go to your journal or weblog, and copy and paste this allowing others (including myself) to ask you anything. Please do a trackback ping so I'll know that you copied it (if you don't know what that is, ask me. If you don't have a webpage, ask me questions anyway).

Answers will be given in a follow-up post.

Sunday, April 18, 2004

you know how everyone always thinks that getting drunk by yourself is sad and depressing?

well, it's not. it's quite fun actually. happy sunday!

speaking of autographs

Davis, I love you! You're a Cunt of the Highest Order. You're a Vagina Warrior in my book.

She got Igna to write me a note! A note from Igna! I'm still squealing. Here's what it says:

"dearest Lorn-
Con amor del coño, sorry you couldn't be here w/ davis! (heart), igna m."

Her handwriting is so cute! Heee!!

trombone dorkiness!

Yesterday I got up bright and early (5am) to venture northward to the OC. The reason for my journey was not to go to prom with Paris Hilton, or have steamy sex on the beach and then fret about it later in my parents ridunkulously huge Spanish-style mansion overlooking the ocean (although, I would drive to the OC for hot steamy beach sex in a second). No, the purpose of my journey was far more noble, and career-expanding. Below, a recap of the events pertaining to one April 17th, 2004, aka Trombone Day LA. Warning! Likely not interesting or even comprehensible to anyone but Jason and Beatriz (and any other bonists reading).

8am: Registration. Jim Prindle, who coaches RB High's low brass, was there, so we chatted a bit.

8:30: Intro/short concert by the CSU Fullerton Trombone Choir. Nice rendition of Monochrome II by Peter Schikele (of PDQ Bach fame).

9am: Group warmup with professional trombonist Jeannie Little. I learned a lot of cool warm-up exercises here that I plan to, today, yeah. Today I will practice. ;)

10: Trombone choir readings. These were broken up into small groups: beginners, high schoolers, college and professionalers, and weekend warriors. Jeannie conducted the college group, and we played through the Flor Peeters quartet (I love that sucka), the Gordon Jacobs Octet (woot!) and Passacaglia (Bach). My lips hurt at this point. Yes, practicing today. Definitely.

11:30: Lunch is a very small slice of pizza that costs me a buck. Obnoxious.

12pm: Exhibits! Trombones to try! I fiddled around on a few Conns (eh...) and then, I saw it. A Shires orchestral tenor with T47 slide, medium weight red bell with experimental in-line valve (I told you'd I'd be dorking out). Ooooooh Mama. Why did I play this trombone? I lust. I pine, I burn. The crook was a little smaller than my Edwards (the crook determines the width of the slide), so it was easy to handle and I can imagine I could play for longer before my left hand got sore. Across the board the horn was lighter (I also tried a Shires bass with double thayer that was so easy on the wrist...) but when I played it...huge-ass golden sound. A little brighter than what I'm used to, but oh, it sounds so good. So good. That in-line valve. Smooth as buttah. Anyone got an extra $3,200 lying around?

While I was playing the Shires (mmm, Shires) two of the Bones Apart girls came giggling into the exhibit room with a video camera. They now have my stunning rendition of a three-octave Bb major scale preserved forever in their memory.

12:30 pm: Concert by Bones West, a large jazz ensemble consisting entirely of trombones, plus drums, piano and bass. While I am usually more than likely annoyed by novelty jazz acts that play poor/easy arrangements of standards (Think: Ladies Must Swing), Bones West was pretty cool. It wouldn't work with any other instrument; trombones however, are properly versatile as a choir to cover all the bases of sound and texture. So, A+.

1:30: Clinic with Bones Apart! The Main Event. The Big Kahuna. The Creme de la Creme. They opened up the clinic with a fanfare and blew us all away (no pun intended). Seriously, these cats can blow. And their technique...daa-yam. The three tenors, Becca, Becky and Carol, studied with Chris Houlding at RNCM, who if you remember I played in a master class for in November. I can see that his students do fairly well for themselves. Sheeeeit. Their playing leaves nothing to be desired. They could use a little work on their masterclass speaking/organization, but I understand that they are only just starting to do this kind of thing. It was great to see them interact though, their personalities are over the top (not under ;) and they are all freakin' hilarious. I have a crush on Lorna, the bass trombonist. Thick scottish accent! Bwah! OH yeah, and she's flawless on that sterling silver Conn...

At the end of the class they played Kabalevsky's Dance of the Comedians, and it was faster, I swear, than I've ever even heard an orchestra play it. Jaw is officially dropped.

3pm: A concert/clinic with jazz greats Andy Martin and Bob McChesney. I heard two charts, but I was just so tired I didn't feel like I could enjoy it. I'm weird about trombone jazz. Or just not really into it. Besides, in my opinion the combo is a little stale, relying too much on every playing structure: Opening theme, solo for everyone, closing theme. Meh. Those guys are great players though. I just wanted to see if I couldn't wander around and run into BA again. I didn't, but I chatted with a guy named Adam about some stuff.

5: Slide care clinic with John Sandhagen. Here's where I learned a shitload. It's cleaning day for Bernard and Bianca today, what with all I've learned on proper slide care...huzzah!

6: Adam and I drove over to a strip mall for dinner.

7:30: Prepare to be amazed. Bones Apart, in concert.
They opened with Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, JS Bach. Kicked the living shit out of anything Canadian Brass has ever done with this piece. Holy Mother of Pickles. I start to shake.
Highlight musically of the concert was the piece commissioned by Bones Apart, Secret Love Songs. Involving just about every mute know to trombonanity. Man, trombones are so cool. I need to snag a recording of this piece.
Highlight comedically of the concert was the Finale from Faust (Gounod). Heeee!! My crush on Lorna has reached epic proportions. She has a monologe describing the plot of Faust, and then the other members come out as the respective characters. They do a dance number, whilst playing. Woooo!! Tears streaming from my eyes funny.
Lots of other good stuff. One of their encores (of three) was the Star Spangled Banner, which wasn't particularly great until they got to the piccolo solo, where Carol just kicked it into high gear and trilled that mo-fucka to death. I'm still shaking.

After the concert I got their autographs and they invited everyone to come have a pint. That was pretty cool. I didn't get to talk with them much; but then again I'm a social moron around amazing musicians, so that's my own damn fault. I didn't stay long anyway-had to get home so I could deal with the poop Chipper left in the living room for me. Hurray!

All told, a day well spent. But I still shouldn't have played that Shires.

Friday, April 16, 2004

this was going to be a special "first-ever" blog

but it just didn't work out that way. It was going to be the "First ever Blog from Workplace" entry. My computer time was hijacked by a coworker (who didn't know what a blog was, in fact, seemed to be surprised that you in fact can read things on the internet at all...) who was playing this stupid Tanks game obsessively, and making much ado about it. Anyway, enough about that.

Did I mention my job is easy? Here's what I did today on my 8-2:30 shift:
-Emptied trashcans
-Watched coworker play annoying badly animated flash game
-Escaped to the basketball court and practiced my freethrow (all this talk of ball has made me anxious to play--it's about that time for the Tuba-Euph softball game/cookout with violent basketball bonus time and this is the first time in four years I shan't be going...)
-Read some articles in Bitch
-Half an hour lifeguarding
-Examined the contents of the first aid kit. This first aid kit is struggling harder than Bush at a press conference. Let us put food on your family. And no band-aids. Also, baffled by presence of two bottles of meat tenderizer.
-Walked to local strip mall for lunch
-Half an hour lifeguarding
-Talked to different coworker about mutual acquaintances the Loomis family. Megan, this is Aaron Gallant, who claims to be a good friend of your brother. Did he go waterskiing with us that one time?

House is nice and quiet, empty, wonderful. I'm off to the grocery store to stock up, and also get ingredients for the deliciously alcoholic sounding sangria for which Erica has given me a recipe. I'll be packing it in early tonight so I can be up at the buttcrack of dawn to head to Fullerton. Hell, I'm already tired. Maybe I'll just go to bed after dinner.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

fun with futurama quotes

Jeez, I'm beginning to be as bad as Grant and Chris, only with the other Groening show that is way better (see, I'm justified). All headers and two links are quotes- name the character who says each and win...a chance to party with Slurms McKenzie. Whimmy whim wam wozzle!

Links are back, along with your favorite Sesame Street Terror Alert (be glad it's not the dancing banana), my Amazon Wishlist (3 months til the big 2-3! hint: season 3. Season 3!!!!), and some other stuff. Okay, no other stuff. Just the links. Atom feed is here. I don't know what that means or why I'm doing it, but it was requested of me by people who are web nerdy about such matters.

Items of note: 9 days until the March. 8 days until I leave. Yahoo!
Tomorrow begins my Weekend of Freedom. Can't come too soon, I say. My parents have been pestering me all night: "Lorn, do you know how to give Chipper his pills? Lorn, don't forget to put out the trash! Lorn, do these dishes. Lorn, park your car in the garage while we're gone" etc etc. Meh.
On Saturday, I'll be here, dorking it up with other CA trombonists. Bones Apart, man, for free! That shizzles my nizzle. That takes the cake. That technically qualifies as "ill"...

And as a final note, because I am in a quoting mood tonight, I leave you with this Dave Chappelle quote that has been floating around in my head all week and causing me to randomly bust a gut:

"We are the Time Haters. We travelled all the way back in call you a cracker."

seriously, who do i have to kill?

something just snapped in me, while i was watching tv. maybe it was the coincendental arrangement of images. the anti-variety of images of women. boobs. tans. the same too skinny, too voluptuous, too fake, too sexed female frame i see every day, day after day, on tv, on billboards, in movies, in magazines...

i am fucking sick of all of it. fucking tired of the bloody asswipe beauty myth male gaze crap that i can't avoid no matter how many times i switch channels on the tv, or even if i turn it off, i can't escape it, it's all around, i might as well live in a stupid hole in a stupid tree with a raccoon (stupid) like that one kid, in that one book. before, it made me angry, yes. i felt like it was my role as an educated person to edumacate other said persons on the ill effects of media representations of women. i can go about my business and not apply it to myself, and deny the power it attempts to claim on my self-esteem and my bank account (or can i? can i really?). but now, now i'm just angry. flaming mad. "if i were god i would rain fire down from the heavens" angry. pissed.

and it's not like any one thing really did it. first, i was watching this episode of "made" on mtv, because the girl was sweet and cool and reminded me of me. she was a nerd, and invisible, and a smart cookie (maybe i wasn't a smart cookie. maybe a smart brownie). and then she decides she wants to be in a beauty pageant (AND WHAT FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL HAS A BEAUTY PAGEANT?!?!? THAT'S FUCKED UP AND BEYOND LAME) and turns out primped and processed just like all the other girls. A looker, to be sure, and great that she found this confidence and made some friends. Is she really grown up? maybe a little bit more. is she ready for the sexuality this new beautiful her is going to force upon her? why the fuck is this high school having a fucking beauty pageant?!?!?

and then i saw this sports illustrated ad about the special edition special crap mini basketball (who wants a damn mini basketball? you can't play with it. you can't cuddle it at night. you can't do CRAP with a CRAP mini basketball) about how great it is that UCONN won the whatever they won that everyone's just shitting their pants about and i thought. WAIT A MINUTE didn't their women's team kick a lot of shit on the court this year too? Where's their special edition crappy mini basketball? oh, i bet it'd be pink. barf me with a spoon. And THEN they do the whole, subscribe/buy your crappy mini basketball now and get all these other wonderful issues of sports illustrated and they flash the issues past you and of course one of them is the swimsuit issue and that's where i just lit on fire and started foaming at the mouth. and here i am. trusted blog. ranting. sick of bullshit. sick to fucking death of bloody sexist patriarchal bullshit ass clown media. fuck. shit. cunt. bitch. wanker. to you objectifiers of women, i quote the immortal words of bender b. rodriquez(a).

bite my glorious golden ass.

SOOOOO How you all doing? Haven't heard from some of you lately. Davis? Jason? Dan? Hellooooo??? I'm doing great. I have a job, and it's easy. I work tomorrow from 11-5. I realized yesterday that even though I tried, I really tried, I just don't like Elvis Costello. I mean, I like "Shipbuilding" and that's why I checked out the greatest hits cd, but man, I just don't dig it. I still like shipbuilding though. That's a quality song. Just not the rest of them.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

the moderate thrill of mild adventure (or, musings on my weekly trip to ramona)

There's something about it. Is it the curves and twists that display breathtaking view after breathtaking view? The feel of your car's effortless acceleration as it kicks up an incline? The sharp line between mountain and sky? The feeling of leaving reality behind and entering a realm free of urban concern? The small country touches?

It's not quite a mountain, but bigger than a hill. It doesn't take long to get to the top before you go down again. Sometimes, you'll get stuck behind a slow-moving boat trailer or chicken truck. The destination is not the most exciting of places, just a medium-sized mountain town, with its collection of quaint antique shops (for the tourists) and sparkling new strip malls, parking lots freshly paved. Within a block you leave behind wooden fences and dirt roads and enter a main street just like any other, with Albertsons and banks and repair garages. The high school kids are not different or backward. Nothing is perched on a cliff or overlooking a dramatic view. Just Ramona.

Driving up though, it's like leaving behind cares and concerns, zooming up a mountain, soaring through curves, escaping the inescapable housing complexes and ubiquitous gas stations of the valley below. There are some amazing views, and when the sky is just the right blue and the sun is in just the right place, the hills scissor the sky and sit aloof and proud against the backdrop of clouds. Sometimes you'll come around a bend and there a mountain sits, larger-than-life, the road ahead disappearing into the belly of the beast. Before you get there, the road will curve away and you'll sidle up to the giant and say hello. Until then, it's like approaching a new mystery, going underground to discover what lurks. Feeling the weight of earth above your head and grounding you, reminding you of both human engineering and mortality simultaneously. The conflict of science and nature, entwined. The birds that soar above the valleys take on the illusion of majesty, no matter what kind they be. It's all hawks here. Eagles.

Too short, the drive is. Soon enough you'll find human kind again, destroying and building, close to the wonders of wilderness that the threat feels imminent, palpable. Which will win? On either side, civilization is creeping up on the unsuspecting, will they be taken advantage of? Will a line be drawn, a contract signed? Is fire enough to keep them away? How soon will our experiences of nature be contained, boxed in by irrigated lawns and 7-elevens, a dollar to visit, a quick hike, the possibility of seeing something rare that used to not be so rare before...before we all got greedy and took what isn't ours to take.

Until then, you appreciate the moments you have.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

i'm bombing google!! (you should too)

Apparently, some bastards have googlebombed the word "Jew" so that to search for and it hit "I'm Feeling Lucky" will take you to their anti-semitic page. Well, let's put a stop to it. The link is for Wikipedia's definition of "jew." Via Alas, A Blog.

Jew! [Apparently you only have to link it once, as multiple links have no Googlicious effect]

Friday, April 09, 2004

good news everyone!

My parents are taking a vacation April 16th-21st. They are driving to Carlsbad, New Mexico to see the fun stuff there and then spending a few days on their way back in Tucson.

Let's run that past you again. My parents are on vacation for 1-2-3-4-5-6 days! My parents are not in San Diego! My parents are not in the house bugging me! My parents are not watching TV 24-7! My parents are not doing the crossword puzzle before I can get to it! My parents are not waking me up by slamming the garage door at 7 am! My parents are not leaving plates with ketchup on them out overnight and are not annoying me with the evil day old ketchup smell!

If I had friends, I'd have a party.

I'm so totally going to walk around in various states of undress the whole time. Nekkid, if I so choose. I will masturbate on the couch. Maybe I'll get ridiculously drunk randomly and watch porn on the computer. The possibilities are endless!

You need not fear, these six days will not be wasted. However, if you are my friend and you live within a 50 mile radius of Rancho Bernardo, CA (hell, I'll even say 100 miles), you are welcome to come and get wasted with me. In my empty house. Just as long as you don't scare my dog. He has a faulty bladder.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

i heart prokofiev

I was wondering today what it is that makes certain music worthwhile for some people, not so for others, hated with a passion for some people, etc. What makes Prokofiev my favorite composer, yet other people love Mahler or Beethoven or Part (that was for you, Bethany)? I enjoy those composers, but they don't have the significance or draw that my dearest Sergei does.

It's partly sentimental- my first Prokofiev experience is thanks to Jon Mortison, who gave me a recording of Alexander Nevsky in high school. It hit a chord with my dark, intense little teenage soul, longing for significance and individuality amid the superficiality of everything around me. Or something like that. It was, for all intents and purposes, something I could lie on the floor listening to at top volume being shaken to the core with emotion. From Nevsky, I moved on to Romeo and Juliet. Ooh, those chords at the beginning of the Introduction to Act III. OOoooooh man. They leave me breathless every time. The effective use of dissonance--the build-up the crash, the release, so desperately orgasmic. And the Quarrel scene/death of Tybalt. Let me tell you, nothing has ever been so much fun to play on bass trombone.

To the things I originally loved about Prokofiev, the darkness, the despair of his intense moments, I have added a joy in his humorous moments, the light-hearted compositions that betray a jovial tone (Think: 5th Symphony, second movement). As playful as he can be though, I love these moments even more for the weighty undercurrent present in the small dissonances, the little quirks of sarcasm bordering on dark humor. With this I can identify, my own humor often being a little serious and self-hating (all in good spirit, though ;). Manic and depressive smushed into one concise package, if you will.

As an exercise in curiosity (mine), take your favorite composer or band (absolute favorite, numero uno, all time best) and think about what it is about them that grabs your soul and shakes you to the core. Or, perhaps you are of a lighter disposition than I and you like your music to lift you up and sing to your spirit, but why? Is it personal, sentimental, or driven purely by an interest in creativity, perfection, or beauty? A combination of all of these plus extra? When and where do you enjoy them the most? Or do you enjoy them because they are perfect for every mood, every situation?

Prokofiev for me is a constant, a pedal point in the vast modulation of my musical tastes keeping the composition together. Music obsessions have come and gone (as much as I still appreciate them, I can't say I listen to CAKE even half as much as I used to- some of you might be glad about this). He influences my other classical repetoire (oh, those darn Soviets), determines what I love to play in an ensemble, and even goes so far as to pick and choose my various pop/rock/alternative forays.

Lorn's Recommended Prokofiev:
From Romeo and Juliet: Intro to Act III, The Quarrel (Act I Scene i), Masks (Act I Scene ii), Juliet's Room (Act III Scene iii), Morning Serenade (III, iii)
Symphony No 5 (esp mvts 2 and 3)
Lt Kizheh Suite
From Alexander Nevsky: The Battle on the Ice
Piano Concerto No 2
Tales of an Old Grandmother (for Piano)
Violin Concerto No 1 (mvt 1 for the rockin' tuba solo)
The Love for Three Oranges, best (and weirdest) opera, ever.

distressing news!

From YoungBlood, an email with some news that made my heart stop beating and time freeze whilst the rain poured down and lightning struck the barren earth:
nat mcintosh, our sousaphonist, is taking a leave of absence from the band to work on other projects, and consequently we're looking for someone interested in playing with us.

No one can replace Nat! What's YBBB without Nat? NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

6 cds, 4 books, 2 hair-related annoyances, and 1 fun fact

6 CDs: I raided the Classical L-R drawer at the library today, and apparently am in a mood to double my Mahler collection.

Mahler Symphony No 2 LSO/Bernstein
Mahler Kindertotenlieder LSO/Bernstein/Janet Baker
Mahler Symphony No 2 SFSO/Blomstedt (Wait, I thought it was No 8? Sheeet)
Mahler Symphony No 7 CSO/Abbado
Prokofiev Symphony-Concerto for Cello and Orchestra NSO of Ukraine/Kuchar/Rudin
Prokofiev Romeo and Juliet Cleveland/Maazel (I can't believe I don't already have this. Well, the situation is rectified)

4 books:

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, The General in His Labyrinth
Margaret Atwood, Bodily Harm
Norman Mailer, The Gospel According to the Son
Ed. Robin Morgan, Sisterhood is Powerful

Speaking of SIP- here's a library-related annoyance as a bonus to you, the lucky reader- RB used to have all its feminist texts in one convenient location. There weren't many, but the classics were there as well as a few very interesting reads. Now, they've done some sort of radical reorganizing which has axed the feminist category all together, separating the books into bigger sections like Motherhood or Race Studies or History, or, where I found SIP, Anthologies. What the fuck, man? I sense a patriarchal plot to keep would-be feminist knowledge seekers from branching out and reading all available literature. Okay, maybe I wouldn't take it that far. But it is obnoxious.

2 hair-related annoyances:

#1: When I get my hair cut short (or, -er as the case may be), I'm always mostly happy except for the way the back looks. I always feel like my hairline on my neck should round out the whole pixie cut look, not flatten against my neck and make the back of my head look like a straight line. The example on the left is what I don't like. [Ed. note- Totally have a crush on the girl on the right] The one on the right, here is how I feel it should be (please don't be frightened by the scary woman on the left. Her hair is reminiscent of an upside-down Awesome Blossom). I imagine it has something to do with the shape of my head, the particular hairstylist, etc., and upon further reflection, I think my haircut looks good and I should stop worrying about it like I always do.

#2: I hate having little cut hairs all over the back of my neck for the rest of the day. Grr.

1 fun fact, as promised:

Did you know that when your hair dries quickly, it means you have healthy hair? I am the proud owner of healthy hair, which means I better get to destroying it again with bleach and hair dye. Mwahahahaha!!!

another day, another design

What do you think? I was getting a little weary of the blues and browns of the waterfall design, and wanted more subtlety. Still playing with code and getting some things fixed/added.

That said, all I've done today is sit at the internet and I have a raging headache. If I had gotten up earlier I could have been lifeguarding: I got a call from one of the places I turned in an ap (not the place that actually hired me) needing an emergency sub. Unfortunately I woke up late and my cell was off all night. Boo. I could have used both the money and the social interaction.

Nevermind though, I've spiffed up buddha stew (and the more I do this, the closer I get to making my own ORIGINAL design and spending the money on a domain and all that fun stuff) and now it's time to either do some yoga or get a haircut. Or both. It's all up to the headache, he's in charge here.

more quizzy! quizzy! blaaaaaargh!

I'm feeling uninspired to blog, so I'll just keep quizzing so I don't lose any of my valuable readership. ;) This is the [Bracket Quiz] which I found via The Republic of T.

[Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says]

The book nearest me is Julius Caesar, which I have not put away since I referenced it for the Ides of March post. It doesn't have a page "18" so here's what I found on page "xviii":
"..texts so fully dressed. Later texts occasionally show signs of carelessness."

[Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?]

This huge magnifying glass.

[What is the last thing you watched on TV?]

Futurama! Of course.

[With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?]

My dad watching Murder, She Wrote, and any other annoying daytime programming he can find, apparently.

[When did you last step outside?]

Just a few minutes ago, to mail my taxes.

[Before you came to this website, what did you look at?]

At We Have Brains somebody wanted to know where they could find a good feminist or pro choice tshirt to wear to the March. I was looking at the links.

[Did you dream last night?]

I did. One dream involved Hugh Grant in all his goofy, foppish glory, but at the end it turned into some sort of Friday the 13th parody. The other dream I had was about Ryan. Damn you Ryan!! I think Davis was in it too, and she was in a computer animation class where she had to make this picture of Margaret Cho (who was, inexplicably, naked) dance.

[What is on the walls of the room you are in?]

The FISH! (a sailfish, caught by my father in Florida, stuffed and hung on our wall to scare my friends) And the two smaller fish. A clock. Pictures of lighthouses, boats, and birds. This room is nautically themed.

[Seen anything weird lately?]


[What do you think of this quiz?]

It's cool, man, it's cool.

[What is the last movie you saw?]

Theater: Secret Window. TV: Thelma and Louise.

[If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first?]

The entire contents of Borders, except for the New Age music section and the girly magazines. I could probably do without the kids section, too. And all the "Going to the Bathroom For Dummies" books.

[If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?]

I'd like to see what the world would be like if the feminist agenda could run basically unchecked. Or, better yet, what the world would be like if there was no patriarchy.

[Do you like to dance?]

Indeed, I do.

[George Bush:]

"The only bush I trust is my own"

[Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?]

Marian. Or Hazel, after my grandma.

[Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?]

Er. Alexander. My favorite boy name ever. (yes Davis, I covet your boyfriend...'s name) And I would use the Russian diminutives as nicknames: Aloysha, Alexey.

That being said, it's unlikely that I'll have children. Not entirely ruling it out, but, there you have it.

[Would you ever consider living abroad?]

Yep. Montreal if I get into McGill. Europe: anywhere. If my plans of music, activism, or anything else I can come up with fail, I'll be a bhikkuni in Dharmasala, India. ;)

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Quark -- You are subtle and mysterious and people
know very little about you. You like hanging
out with small groups of friends (usually 3)
who you are very close to. You are usually
friends with other quarks like yourself.

What kind of subatomic particle are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Thanks, Erica!

Monday, April 05, 2004


Right Wing Eye! via Bloggers for Choice.

See, feminists have a sense of humor. I'm surprised they didn't put in a joke about the couple being interracial.

Also via Bloggers for Choice, if you can't make it to DC in 20 DAYS (I'm excited) but still want to support the cause, check this out.

Seriously though, I want to make a fun poster. Something clever like "If men got pregnant they'd make abortion a sacrament." I'll go through my collection of Ani looking for one of her gems (heck, they're all gems), but I'm open to suggestions. Should I go 60s Old Skool with "Keep your Laws off my Body"? "If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child"? I want it to be original though. If only I had my copy of Cunt (HINT HINT HINT HINT HINT) handy for ideas.

Your creative juices are flowing, now....GO!

hey, i got what i wished for

I AM EMPLOYED!!! OFFICIALLY! None of this crappy petition crap, crap-ass job I couldn't do to save my life (spare me the lecture, Sassypants), but a real live paycheck-every-other-week, sit around in my swimsuit outdoors kind of job. A lifeguarding gig. Huzzah.

In other news, t-minus 20 days until the March for Women's Lives! DC, here I come.

So much to plan for that. Do I make a sign? What should it say? What do you wear to this kind of thing? What's the weather like? What should I do as a tourist? How will I restrain myself from throwing things at Bush should I see him? (Possibly the threat of jail time will help) Will I get to meet Margaret Cho? Go see her show? Will Gloria Steinem be there? When will Jerry send me Cunt so I can get it autographed if I happen to run into Igna Muscio like Davis did? Is Davis going? Can we all (Cara, Marisa, Dennis) get mildly (or excessively) drunk on Saturday night and chant feminist slogans into the nighttime sky?

In other other news, I like my trombone again. I have unfolded the folding stand and Bianca has set up permanent residence on the Hamilton once more. Kopprasch has been played. Scales have been executed. The other day I even played bass. It sounded TERRIBLE and I was dizzy. What's next, my mandolin? Oh, and I should write those parts for Blather. Sheeeeit.

In other other other news, it's lunchtime.

i miss jerry. :(

Sunday, April 04, 2004


Does anyone else get really nauseous after playing video games for a longish period of time? Say, an hour? I do. I can't handle much more than that before I start getting slightly claustrophobic and dizzy. It happens with TV too, but on a much smaller scale. Maybe it's something you have to build up to, that intensive video gaming for hours-on-end tolerance that I'll just never have because I don't care enough.

That being said, it's not your average 22 year old that plays The Lion King for Sega Genesis. Well, I am not your average 22 year old.

At one point yes, I beat the stuffing out of this game. I threw Scar over that bitchin' cliff. I am the king of Pride Rock (and get to work, lionesses, killin' me some zebras).

I am slowly regaining my lion skills.

Level 1: The Pridelands
No sweat. The rest of the game is much easier if you can get that one bug that doubles your strength.

Bonus level- Make Pumbaa eat lots of bugs. Can't ever get past 36.

Level 2: I Just Can't Wait to be King
Otherwise, easy as 1, 2, rrrowr.

Level 3: The Elephant Graveyard.
Hyenas everywhere! This one's in the bag, after much practice.

Level 4: the Stampede
Not as hard as once thought. Merely a game of avoidance.

Level 5: Simba's Exile
You gotta be willing to take a few hits on this one. I finally got past the stupid rolling rock, avoided falling in the thorns, jumped a few gorges, and all of this only to be heckled by Whoopi Goldberg.

Level 6: Hakuna Matata
Watch out for the frogs, they spit! Fun with waterslides. And then, there's the...
WATERFALL OF DEATH!! (dum dum duuuuuuh)
This son of a bitch kills me every time. You have to jump up the logs that are falling down the waterfall, and it goes on for god knows how long (I don't, because I can't fucking do it) and then once you get past it, etc, and do some other stuff, if my memory serves me correct, you have to DO IT AGAIN!!! ARRRGH!!! The logs look like Combos. They make me hungry, inexplicably not for Combos, but for peanut butter. Weird.

And that's were I'm at when I get all queasy and can't handle it anymore. I seem to recall there are 10 levels, the last one being your WWF spar with dear old Uncle. What the others between the WATERFALL OF DEATH and the end are, I cannot remember. In Level 7 you are adolescent Simba, I think. Getting a scruffy little mane. Roar cracking at inopportune moments and embarrassing you in choir. Masturbating constantly to PlayLion. Telling Timon and Pumbaa where they can stuff it. Doing drugs behind the rotting log. Good times, good times.

News of the weekend is: Tomorrow I have an interview for a lifeguarding job (starting immediately) at a local club. Huzzah!

Friday, April 02, 2004

one of those posts again

It's Friday, so, here are the first 10 songs to play on my MP3 player (title- artist, album):

1. Sister Saviour- the Rapture, Echoes
2. Track 1- Blur (from Think Tank, I don't know what the titles of the songs are because Jerry didn't write them in when he burned it)
3. Steady B Loop Dub- Sublime, Robbin the Hood (I swear this one always comes up on random)
4. Bloodshot- Youngblood Brass Band, Unlearn
5. Opened Once- Jeff Buckley, Songs for My Sweetheart the Drunk Vol 1
6. Slyde- Bilal, 1st Born Second
7. Juilanne- Ben Folds Five, Ben Folds Five
8. Nicotine and Gravy-Beck, Midnite Vultures
9. When the Stars Go Blue- Ryan Adams, Gold
10. Alburquerque- Buck O' Nine, Twenty-eight Teeth (BON gives me such strong high school flashbacks...)

Thursday, April 01, 2004

google fun!

Head over to Google, type in "weapons of mass destruction," and click "I'm Feeling Lucky."

I'm giggling uncontrollably.


Look! Look! My site meter has gone over 1000! I'm popular!

Okay, I know it's just the same six people coming everyday. But a girl can dream, a girl can dream.