Because You Deserve Something Beautiful Today

Lady Snowblood is said to be a favourite of Quentin Tarantino's, and you can absolutely see O-ren fron Kill Bill in this video.  Besides that, it's really stunning music - I was tipped off by my jazz friend from the Library of Congress.



I go home tomorrow!!  Buses leave at 7 am, kill me, but I am going to have a deep, hot bath, eat roast lamb and sleep.  Now I have to do some emergency chem homework. 

"And I Believe, California Succumbed To The Fault Line"

It's been a while since I wrote a proper post, hasn't it?  For a long time it's been pictures or copies or videos... I've not been sick or without internet - it's more that I've been neglecting blogspot for more glamourous sites.  I'm quite ashamed, but my life hasn't been all that interesting.  There was break, which was fantastically indulgent.  I finished Torchwood: Children of Earth, ate lots, and generally decompressed.  But then came this week.  I cannot make this clear enough to you, though I understand that bitching online is not generally a cool/fun/clever thing to do.  This week was *censored*.  This week was so *censored*ing awful I contemplated, among other things, going to sleep behind a shelf in the library and getting myself locked in for the night just to spite the world, a career in spontaneously crying in chemistry class and study hall, and, by Friday, religion.  Yeah, I was pretty desperate by the time this weekend rolled around.  I just... sort of woke up nervous on Monday morning, and spent the rest of the week in varying states of distress ranging from exhausted irritation to legitimate (well, perhaps not legitimate, but very real), if irrational, fear that I was dying.  And there were some people I just had to avoid because they made me so angry and terrified.

However.

There is a Very Good Thing I want to talk about.

This Thing is called The King Is Dead, and it is the new Decemberists album (it just occurred to me that their web site looks a whole lot like Elvis Costello's), which I listened to thoroughly on Grooveshark, purchesed all legal-like, and have continued to listen to exhaustively.  I am listening to it now.  This, to me, demonstrates that it is good music and I'm not just using it to feel like a rebel by not-paying-for-it.  Know how much I like it?  Or.... know how bored I got one day during break when certain people had decided to go to New York City without me and I was in a house with a cat and a father, neither of whom wanted to harmonize on ukulele songs with me?  I filmed the snow.  Just sat my camera on the windowsill and filmed it falling.  And then!  I had even more time (in which I was not going to study chemistry - yes, I regretted it, but yes, it was worth it) so I set this very boring footage to a song from this newly-purchased Decemberists album, and the result is this thing.  I hope that you will watch it, or, more to the point, listen to it, and then buy the album. 









(I am not in the employ of the Decemberists, their producers or anybody involved in the folk-rock industry.  Just so you know.  But I've been converting people to this band all week with these songs.)

The play is in two weeks!  Jesus Christ, help!  Importance of Being Ernest on March the 19th, if you happen to be kicking around Northern Aroostook County, and I've got my lines basically down, but we've still got a lot of work to do.  We're having an accent workshop tomorrow, featuring Me, resident British Girl, as frustrated teacher.  Should be fun.

Oh, and I've joined the volleyball team.  I hadn't really played before, but I really like it, though we've all got stinging bruises on our arms from bumping for hours on end.  I even went to an optional practice today.  Me.  I like sitting still, people, I work my fingers hard typing and that's enough, but I legitimately enjoy this stuff.  I serve terribly, but there's time for all that.  So.  FUN. 

I've been taking a lot of peoples' yearbook photos.  That's fun.  But they all think that editing a photo is some sort of arcane art, when what I do is so basic, and I've never been good at taking compliments and when I try to convince people that I honestly don't deserve praise for adjusting the exposure on a photo and blurring out a few blemishes, it gets really awkward.

Okay, I'm riffing now, so I think I'll just quite while I'm ahead... if I ever was.  I'm still sort of moody, haven't shaken off the nerves completely, and, scariest for me, I haven't got much appetite.  So.  Goodbye, my darlings, and please be happy and apologize to somebody you've been evil to.  It feels so much better afterward.

If I Never Loved I Never Would Have Cried

I made you a video, because I was locked in a tower by a fire-breathing dragon.  So you can listen to my accent being totally incongruous with Simon&Garfunkel songs, and laugh.

This is a hell chunk of school.  Only two more weeks, then it's back home, thank goodness.  But we've all been sick.  Horribly sick.  Today (probably yesterday by the time I get to posting this - damn internet curfew) my friend and I were both feeling really ill and sorethroatish, she more than me (grammar?) and the nurse wasn't in so we had to go to the dean of students.  This man is fundamentally miserable, hates teenagers and, I'm fairly sure, resents us like hell because we aren't vibe-sucking stick insects.  I feel okay about venting here, because I'm fairly sure he doesn't know how to read a blog, but if you are reading this, sir, please know that I think your behaviour toward us today has bee immensely unfair and unkind, and does you as little professional credit as it does human.  You may be a good person, but you're not a nice one.  He didn't let anybody off classes at all - and he knows we're not slackers and that we're aware that being sick makes us fall behind.  We don't want to have to take the day off - yet treats us like criminals.  He makes me feel like a really deplorable person when he's around.
Anyway, I don't want to bitch at you about it, but that's just not cool.

Ohhh, and it's tomorrow now....




So, let me know what you think.  I have to go take some horrible school-wide standardized maths test now, but I promise I'll do some proper writing for you later today - I've got a study hall.

[Not A Song Lyric]

I was kind of embarrassed to realize that my last three posts were titled with lyrics having absolutely nothing to do with their content.  I am not doing that this time, but instead giving you a video that has nothing to do with... anything.  I mean, I made it.  It's a song I wrote, but I have absolutely no clue what it's about.  But, guys!  I got a comment on it from some guy in Australia who I don't even know.   That's some yays.  Yep, this is me... excited about a few comments on the blog and a couple stranger views on YouTube.  I'm so clueless.  Hopefully somebody will find it funny one day.

I had my NSLI-Y interview on Tuesday, and I think it went really well.  I was questioned by a very charming couple, who have been AFS host parents in the past, and we got on fairly well.  I think they liked me and what I showed them of the school, and the only thing that's got me really worried is the fact that they didn't even touch the candied nuts and chocolate wafers I'd set out for them.  People who turn down sweets make me nervous.  Oh, know what else makes me nervous?  This shit going down in Egypt.  I mean, bringing the internet down is a pretty harsh blow, and the violence is looking to get pretty scary.  And, also, I mean... Egypt was my second choice for the summer programme.  I seriously doubt they'll be sending anybody there now. 

In other news:  White Stripes:  WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?  I love you.  We love you.  So why the goddamn hell are you breaking up?  This has been a hard week, and you are not helping it or rendering me any more likely to pass chemistry. 

Our awesomely anglophilic Brit Lit teacher here has started a british television club.  We had our first meeting today - ploughman's lunch - and talked about what to watch and when.  Looks like Jeeves & Wooster and Yes, Minister are firsts on the list.  This almost makes up for the White Stripes breakup.  Not quite, but almost. 

What?!

Oh, Sting.  You were not born to make music videos, and yet...



I'm going home.  We're leaving for school in just a few minutes.  I got back yesterday afternoon after two flights, one irritatingly delayed and, weirdly, also carrying my old French teacher, and spent the evening with friends here.  Now my mama, a nearby classmate and I are schlepping ourselves back up north.  It's snowing here and last night was numbingly, record-settingly cold.  My toes already hurt.  But I am actually aching to see everyone.  I don't want those 200 miles to exist.

But I am already reunited with my ukulele.  We are going to have so much fun together...

Goodbye, Washington

Sorry for not-posting in so long.  I'll give you the full story soon - it's been a crazy two weeks - but here's an interim video.  Flight tomorrow morning: Baltimore --> Philadelphia --> Bangor, ME.  If it's not too snowy.  Then a night with my darlings, then school! 






I think I got a little bit frostbitten walking around a freezing-cold (yet bleakly snowless) DC today because I didn't have to go into work.




Tonight I'm going to a pizza restaurant with ping pong tables.  Life is beautiful. 

We Are Stardust; Billion Year Old Carbon

So.  Library of Congress.  Pretty damn sexy.  I'm gathering material for another video, but so far all I've got are some artless pictures of the capitol, and a few subway shots.  The D.C. stations have curved ceilings, and it really feels as if you're walking inside a big tube... I've been imagining myself in the veins of a whale, but I'm just a geek.  Anyway, to keep the wolves at bay:

 

(Okay, also of the LOC's Jefferson Building.  And my Christmas tights)

 

I've been transcribing lots and lots of interviews with master violin makers, many of whom have impossibly thick German accents.  As a non-violin playing, part time classical music-listener, I'm learning a lot, but it sometimes gets a little dry.  Far more exciting for me is the two-disc "primer" of international jazz that the Library's jazz curator (they have a curator of jazz.  A full time specialist curator of jazz.  This man... I will meet him next week.  He unearthed all these John Coltrane/Thelonious Monk recordings nobody knew existed.  And these discs, especially the Brazilian stuff... he has amazing taste).  But this weekend should be fun.  Tomorrow I'm planning to meet up with a couple friends from Turkey!  Americans who were on that programme with me.  One lives a little outside D.C, and another's at college in New York but in town for the weekend... so glad I picked up on his facebook feed.  And on Sunday, my godfather's taking me to Thomas Jefferson's old house, Monticello.  By all accounts it's an architectural marvel with beautiful grounds, and of course the history is fascinating, so I'm very glad about that.

So, I know I'm throwing lots of videos at you lately, but I guess it's just how I'm relaxing these days.  You get my leftovers, but I think today's is pretty damn fantastic.  

 

A Week In Five Minutes

I'm throwing way too many videos at you these days, but at least this one's mine.  I edited it on the plane ride.  I will rave to you about how amazing my Library of Congress job is some other time, because I'm tired.  Soooo: Like!  Comment!  Rate!  Share!  YouTube!!!

You're My Best Friend, But Then You Died, When I was 23 And You Were 25

Proper update coming soon, but my cousin and I were browsing the backlogs of the BBC's predictions for the Next Big Things on the British music scene.  Some of them were right on - Adele, anyone? - and some we'd never even heard of but spent hours looking up because we are geeks.  These guys have me on my knees.  Their videos, their whole look is so vulnerable-'50s-drive in-drive by-skinny-gorgeous, the singer looks like Chet Baker, and their sound is really cool.  I give you The Drums.



The dancing in this one is just adorable.  So effectively awkward.  And what a a great stylist... look at the singer's paperbagged trousers!  And the saddle shoes behind him!

And this one... the grainy video style had me at 'hello'.  I want to be a critic, dammit!



SO, I'm nearly done packing to go back to the States on Sunday.  D.C., baby, here I come.  I'm dragging my feet over the lines I have to memorize for The Importance Of Being Ernest, but whatever, I'll do them on the plane.  Last night I went back to the neighbourhood I used to live in and saw a friend and his family.  The evening really couldn't have lasted long enough... they just don't make boys like that in America.  In a few minutes I'll go to synagogue with my family, then Friday night dinner at my grandmother's.  Tomorrow is Oxford, and then it's goodbye, England, maybe for a whole year.  But, on to merrier things, if only slightly: while we're looking at gorgeous skinny boys, click HERE for Bret Lloyd's The Quieter Poster Boys, a gorgeous bit of photography.  The tip came from my maytag model. 

I've done a nice bit of shopping while here, too.  I'll show you everything soon, but other than the shoes there's been a dress, some respectable trousers because I realized I'm going to be working in the Library of Congress and can't really show up in stained corduroys OR miniminiskirts, and some rather exciting leggings (think me: think polka dots).  And HAHA!  It all fits in my bag because I've distributed all of my granola!  Yes!

(It's LinkSlut Friday)

It's None Of It True

Now, I don't mean to go all sentimental photo-montage on you, but a friend of mine, one who talked me out of all my money convinced me to get my camera and all ensuing tchotchkes, made this and it's really too good not to show you.







In other news, I'm home after an uncommonly pleasant bus ride.  I woke up at sixish, with far more ease than almost everyone else in the school, mostly due to the fact that I hadn't gone to a midnight-ish showing of Harry Potter the night before (I passed most of my birthday evening wandering about outside and looking in at the boys' windows - there is some frightful pornography to be seen on those walls).  Anyway, I came outside for breakfast and there was a thin layer of snow on the ground and more falling.  It was absolutely magical, and even in the groggy, cold, flip flop-clad state I was in I was delighted.  Boarding the buses was fun - I was the last on - and I found the usual company for my route enhanced by an addition with whom I listened to several issues (is that the right term for a podcast?) of The Bugle before dozing on the shoulder of a lovely boy whose taste in music rivals those of even my friends here.  He approved of the above video.  All through this is was snowing rather thickly and the bus was cold, but when I woke up we were 'south' and it was ridiculously sunny again.

I'll skip the part where I drag my father underwear shopping and go right to the food.  I swear, my next post will be nothing but pictures of what I'm eating.  I have been reduced to tears by real food that I didn't cook.  Last night, we had greens and Brussels sprouts with ginger and roast chicken and parsnips and garlic and potatoes and beets and carrots.  It's not the meat that I really miss, oddly enough - I could go vegetarian after having been at school this long - but it was all gorgeous.  I made fairy cakes, but went to bed before dessert.  Five weeks without a break is too long, though I don't imagine the scotch and soda helped.  In any case, I was out at seven-thirty, back up at nine and then asleep for the next twelve hours.  Then to a friend's house for a stunning breakfast of eggs, sausage and biscuits, and home with some other friends to make two cakes - count 'em - watch Torchwood and eat roast lamb with rice and lentils and open a few birthday presents.  I'm going to school tomorrow, just to hang out in the art room and catch up with whomever is cool enough to drift in there, so I've got to go to bed now.  Studying for finals starts tomorrow.  Just remind me. 

(Oh, what a lot of tags!)

Home For Not Much Longer

It interests me how the standards in 'quality' for writing and images are set up.  When writing is 'dirty' it's trash, no?  It's a trashy romance novel that people are ashamed to read, until one comes along that has a couple good reviews as well as a chapter that turns them on in just the same way.  Then photography - well, anyone can press a button while someone looks sexy, right?  But if that's the case, all photography and every claim it has to 'art' status is invalid.  And why is Robert Mapplethorpe's work considered art, not just porn?  Because he was good, better than almost anyone else who took nude photographs or anything else in his vein of work.  He was skilled above them in the same way that the Pullitzer-winning writer is more adept at writing than the outcasts who publish those paperbacks.  But Robert Mapplethorpe and, oh, I don't know... Nabokov?  Or whoever it was that wrote Madame Bovary.... they weren't always great artists.  They must have started off as unskilled as the 'pornographers', they weren't born with their talents.  So when did their work become art - socially acceptable, intellectually prestigious - and not cheap kicks you keep under the mattress?  Because they have been recognized and legitimized as artists, is their pre-quality work 'art', too?  And if these great figures in culture were writing, photographing, painting, singing - somehow expressing - sex, then, goodness, they were certainly thinking about it.  Just like everybody else.  Because their expressions of sexuality are more valued, were their actual thoughts about sex also somehow more 'okay'?

No, this picture has nothing to do with what I've just said or what I'm about to say - I've got no clue what that is anyway. 

All right, tonight's exhausted perambulation stops there.  I am so ready to go back to school tomorrow.  This weekend has been great, totally indulgent on my part in so many ways, but I miss my routine and pretending to myself that I have the discipline to sit down and get something done.  His Girl Friday is the leading candidate for the highlight of the holiday just at present, though the food has been stellar as has seeing my friends, of course.  And the apple beignets....I'll get the recipe for those up soon, because they were heaven.  I am ready for snow cover for as long as I can fry doughnuts and watch films with sexy people I want to kiss my friends, either here or at school... but I'll take it back, I'm sure, after a couple weeks snowed into the dorm.  It's sure to happen soon.

I stay up so late on extended weekends.  I don't understand it, but I quite like being there for the margins in between days.  They're quiet and more interesting.  But why can't I bear to go to bed?!

Okay, this is going to be a ridiculous post, with no organization at all.  I have to write a bill for Youth In Government.  I don't know how to write a bill.  I don't know what to write a bill about.  Everyone else seems pretty clear on this... is it something I just missed out on, like algebra II or that memo explaining what all those internet shortcuts stand for (rofl, anyone?  I am at a loss)?

Video - Call To Prayer

This is from one of my favourite web comics, Cat and Girl.  I thought, given the way I've indulged in the belowmentioned sweet this summer, I might post it to see if anyone else thinks it's funny. 

And, now that I'm back in the states where there's no national YouTube block, I can give you videos!  Here is the call to prayer, finally.