oh the weather outside isn’t frightful
May 29, 2008
i wish i had a window near my desk. we have an open office environment, but alas i have no direct view of the outdoors even though its light shines into my area. so i see the glorious spring-to-summer transformation taking place only as i rise from my desk and walk four steps to the side; a process that seems only to happen every once in a while when i have to pee or if i’m really thirsty, presumably because of the peeing.
errr…
anyway, when i see the outside as it was today — all perfectly bright and shining with optimism and life, to get completely cliche for a moment — i suddenly lose ALL ability to focus.
as i drove to dinner with a friend tonight, i saw two young girls chasing each other. they were wearing matching outfits. their parents were forcing them to be at a little league baseball game; probably their sibling’s. but these parents couldn’t keep the children from playing even though they could control where they went (in this case, a restrictive baseball game).
i wished i’d done that today… rebelled by going for a run outside. but who could i convince to come play with me?
i forgot my tennies anyway.
c’est la vie, i could have gone barefoot.
death cab for cutie: selling out shows with little effort
May 28, 2008
the latest death cab for cutie album has left me speechless. not really. i mean, i’m about to blog about it, after all.
i’m astounded that it’s not better. truth be told, i am in love with the postal service but appreciate death cab (ever since paul pierre introduced me several years ago). i just hear narrow stairs and think, “am i missing something?” do all of their songs on all their other albums sound so similar to one another?
sure, we’ve got the sweet, unique voice of ben gibbard leading the charge of what resonates with me as an otherwise uncharacteristically emo set of tunes. it’s flatter and void of innovation, aside from a couple unexpected note transitions ben institutes.
i suppose it’s possible that i’m reacting to its commercial appeal in a rogue attempt to demonstrate some degree of indie individualism; and, in that same vein, i’ll now proclaim my love for jimmy tamborello’s genius as heard by his dntel and figurine work … and, in the same sentence, then realize all at once that his presence is likely what i love so much about the postal service.
it’s hard, i imagine, when you have such a recognizable voice as ben does to transition smoothly into many projects without scrutiny. here i am, scrutinizing. but i can at least comprehend that some projects pay the bills for exploration elsewhere, and i’m going to bet that death cab for cutie is exactly that. (selling out shows by name alone isn’t a half-bad way of making a living while you seek musical adventures with your many side projects).
if not, i must be too cynical (i don’t argue that). when i know there’s so much more lying dormant with all the incredible talent these people have at-hand, it’s hard to accept what’s being produced as “ground-breaking” tunage.
or at least, that’s what i’m sayin.
two days in laguna beach
May 27, 2008
i spent the weekend in laguna beach, attending a wedding at this posh resort and spa overlooking the pacific. the wind was cold as it blew in over the cliff on which the bride and groom exchanged vows, her veil blowing gently behind her and her shoulders held high trying failingly to shield herself from the cooler-than-comfortable breeze. the trees were draped with flower petals on strands and votive candles hanging in protective glass vases. everything was crazy beautiful.
i was really enamored with the setting, but found myself distracted by the priest who made the duo proclaim that “yes,” they would gladly accept children god blessed them with. this is probably normal, but it’s weird to me that i’d ever say “yes, i can’t wait to procreate with my partner, and i proudly proclaim that to all of you we’re paying to celebrate with us today; oh, and in front of god, too.” just seemed like a private moment.
anyway, but the wedding just populated an otherwise pleasant but enlightening two days in laguna beach. i’d been there about ten years ago on spring break my freshmen year of college while neel was finishing his first year at pomona. then, it was just “this cool town called laguna beach.” we spent the day there. it was cool. then the mtv show came out and i looked at it differently. see, the town apparently was founded by artists, and there are tons of studios and galleries littering the outskirts of town and along aliso canyon drive, which is beautiful (on a different level) like pacific coast highway.
but this time, two moments stick out in my head that made me not want to return, despite its incredible beauty. one happened when julius and i were strolling down a side street off the beaten path, and a woman literally reached her hand out to stop me, and shouted “your jacket.”
“what about it?” i asked. she didn’t say anything, but kept staring at my jacket. i got this particular jacket from jcpenney about three years ago. i suddenly became incredibly and uncomfortably aware of it.
“do you like it?” i asked slowly, not sure what she was getting at. she just pointed more and said “the buttons.”
one of my buttons wasn’t aligned with its proper hole match. my bad.
“oh thanks,” i said, adjusting it.
“i just didn’t want you to go out there [to the main street] without fixing it.”
um, thanks? [insert awkward laugh] thanks for saving me from irreparable judgment?
PS clearly she didn’t like my jcpenney jacket, since she never answered my question. but no matter. the damage had been done. i’d felt totally naked in a way i don’t normally. i felt awkward and fake, like an imposter. i guess i was. but where are all these artists i’d naturally identify myself with? why have they been taken over by the elites?
the second happened just a couple hours later over lunch. in a french bistro overlooking the ocean, a woman literally made a waitress cry. when the waitress had stopped to ask “how is everything,” this particular patron who, no lie, clearly had her face altered (is that too stereotypical, or just reality?), responded, “where do i begin?”
the waitress was mortified, both at the response and the level of the woman’s voice. the problem? her daughter’s croissant wasn’t warm, and her eggs benedict didn’t come with whatever sauce it was supposed to come with. did it stop either of them from eating? no, but it definitely prompted a stern talking to. the waitress apologized, but the verbal assault continued. finally, i realized through the waitress’ thick accented apologies that she had started crying, and then the woman’s friend said, “oh no; we didn’t mean to make you cry.”
the waitress comped the breakfasts, both of which were less than $10 at this little cafe; and both of which equated to one thousandth of an hour’s time of each of their plastic surgeons’ fees, no doubt. but maybe it was all about the principle. isn’t it always?
PS after the waitress brought the bill for what i assume were some mimosas, the friend said, “don’t cry, we like you.”
phew. that was a close one.
had the wedding and company not been divine — plus had i not met up with an old friend in santa monica for thai and drinks, which was just brilliant and lovely — i might have felt completely out of place that weekend.
flying back to detroit at sunrise, i looked out over the greenery of the midwest and realized in an instant why some refer to my native region as “wholesome.”
maybe because we’re willing to shop at jcpenney.
or maybe it’s just me.
turning 28 on an airplane
May 21, 2008
this week, for the past four years, i’ve normally spent in the outerbanks, camped out in a giant house with eight strangers (not really, they’re mostly my friends, but if i spent my birthday on real world every year, i wouldn’t be too far off in terms of drama, anyway). we celebrated a week of nonsense — on the beach before the masses descended upon the likes of nags head. the evenings were always cool and we could have the windows open the entire week. we’d wake up, eat, watch animaniacs (thanks to assad last year, anyway) or some other totally random flick (grandma’s boy at 10 a.m., anyone?), then suit up and head to the beach. we’d always manage to come back around 3 and hang out in the pool for the rest of the night while we listened to kaili’s djing abilities (this usually meant raving out for a few hours) until josh would take over and put something chill on like rogue wave or nujabes or ratatat or built to spill. chrisi and i would be drinking way too many smirnoff ice’s and fall asleep before dinner, which always was made my someone for the entire house since we all volunteered to cook one night each. this meant spending all of our money on booze and cereal, plus enough meet to feed 10 people once. we’d somehow manage to all be in the hot tub as the breeze picked up and the air got frigid. the pool table was in use at all times, as was the foosball table until kaili undoubtedly would break it — or something else — since breaking things accidentally was his forte. we’d have some random drama, like a dude wanting to smoke inside the house or someone having to head back early to start summer sessions at mason (or me heading back for last year’s annual dinner for work) or to say goodbye to a co-worker whose last day fell during that week or a girlfriend who didn’t feel accepted by the entire group even though she spent the entire week holed up in her bedroom.
we’d all dread the last day of paradise, but when it came down to it, we’d played enough frisbee and thrown the football and swam and laughed and danced and chilled enough in that one week to make it at least through another couple months of reality.
this year, things have changed. life’s evolved, and we’re all seemingly in new chapters of our lives seeking new adventures while treasuring the romantic relaxation that brought us together this week for the past several years.
tomorrow, i’ll turn 28 at work, then celebrate to myself while on a plane to detroit, where i’ll undoubtedly be greeted with some pampering before heading to california for the weekend. trading a week on the atlantic for a few days on the pacific might just be a nice change to welcome me, officially, into my late twenties.
gulp.
