Hollywood infected your brain; you wanna kiss it in the rain
Part One:
I forgot to mention in my "general announcements" post that I have a poem appearing in the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets Calendar 2011. It's a really beautiful publication -- I have this year's edition and I am loving it thus far. Current projects: going through my Greyhound journals, writing weird poems about babies, trying to get something published in a literary journal that we sell at work. Also, does anyone have tips on making beautiful and inexpensive chapbooks?
Pandora continues to make me feel like my musical taste is actually completely predictable. If I find something new that I like and make a station for it, it inevitably brings up a bunch of stuff that I already know, based on the fact that they both utilize "subtle vocal harmony". While I'm impressed with the ability of the algorithms to come up with something that suits my musical tastes, I can't help thinking of NPR's engineering of the "most unwanted song*" (you can listen to it here -- I couldn't find the official NPR link, which I'm sure does a better job of explaining it than the article I linked.).
In other musically-interesting news, what do you think of Eric Whitacre's idea of virtual choirs? It's amazing that such a feat is possible, but at the same time, I don't know that the impressive technology and logistics involved make for a really musical performance. There's something to be said for a group of musicians being able to listen and respond to each other's nuances that isn't possible in this sort of experiment.
Below: Marina and the Diamonds, which Pandora was surprised that I didn't already know before yesterday. I am anthropomorphizing Pandora too much? I meant to embed more videos, but apparently is developing a love/hate relationship with YouTube. Mostly hate. But the video for "I Am Not a Robot" is also worth watching.
* Okay, I admit that now I'm totally listening to it and it's sort of incredible.
Part Two:
I've been having a lot of adventures lately, again poorly photographed. Liza half-joked that when Gwen was here, there'd be more pictures taken than the rest of us in the last six months (goodness, I actually have been in New York for six months. strange). It's been super warm so there's been a lot of running around barefoot in Central Park and [sunscreened] sunbathing. My mom learned how to picture-text and sent me a photo of the Wisconsin house I grew up in, shockingly coated in snow. The photo was taken today. Life is weird.
Tomorrow I am going to a racetrack for the first time. I plan to place a [very, very small] bet on the horse with the silliest name.
To be filed under "stereotypically New York experiences", I had my purse stolen from me at a bar last weekend. Thankfully it was at about three in the morning, which is when my mind tends to work the most efficiently, so I managed to cancel my cards et cetera before any real damage was done. (The thief tried to spend about $100 on Metrocards. I mean, really?! That's all you got? No trips to Mexico?) After short-term logistics were taken care of in regard to getting home and getting money, I began to realize many, many, things that were in that purse -- nothing too expensive, but small items like a box of Altoids, a container of rosebud salve, a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for a hot dog at Nathan's. And nostalgic things, like my card from the Pahrump Nugget Casino in Nevada, and my student ID from my university on Japan. After dealing with the absence of my keys, I realized that the most annoying thing was that the robber had taken a lot of things that wouldn't even be useful to him or her. At which point I realized that my Lunette menstrual cup had been stolen along with the purse. Then I pictured the thief squealing with delight over the discovery of a small, beautiful cloth bag -- presumably containing jewelry -- then opening it and going, "...what." (Unless, perhaps, the robber knew some owls that needed hats.) Anyway, after being forced to revert to disposable menstrual products for the first time in over a year and a half, I'm again reminded by how awful it is, and surprised by how many women don't look into other options. Menstrual cups are seriously life-changing.
Amy came to visit for a day and we ran around doing things and not doing things. One of the things we did was attend a giant pillow fight (my third time). At one point after the fight, I was walking toward a statue that was the designated place to meet Liza, and I was stopped by a policewoman who brusquely informed me that I couldn't walk into that part of the park with my pillow. She warned that if I did, then everyone would, and then there would be disorder and chaos and perhaps another pillow fight. I considered suggesting that she go catch my robber, and then we'd talk about the dangers of pillows in unauthorized areas.
I've been going to a lot of readings as of late and I realize I am incredibly lucky to live in this city. A few weeks ago I saw Steve Almond (I read his book Candyfreak in high school), who is coming out with a new book called Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life next week. The excerpts he read were funny but also connecting (I can't think of a better word) in the way that good writing about music is -- showing music as connective tissue between people.
I forgot to mention in my "general announcements" post that I have a poem appearing in the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets Calendar 2011. It's a really beautiful publication -- I have this year's edition and I am loving it thus far. Current projects: going through my Greyhound journals, writing weird poems about babies, trying to get something published in a literary journal that we sell at work. Also, does anyone have tips on making beautiful and inexpensive chapbooks?
Pandora continues to make me feel like my musical taste is actually completely predictable. If I find something new that I like and make a station for it, it inevitably brings up a bunch of stuff that I already know, based on the fact that they both utilize "subtle vocal harmony". While I'm impressed with the ability of the algorithms to come up with something that suits my musical tastes, I can't help thinking of NPR's engineering of the "most unwanted song*" (you can listen to it here -- I couldn't find the official NPR link, which I'm sure does a better job of explaining it than the article I linked.).
In other musically-interesting news, what do you think of Eric Whitacre's idea of virtual choirs? It's amazing that such a feat is possible, but at the same time, I don't know that the impressive technology and logistics involved make for a really musical performance. There's something to be said for a group of musicians being able to listen and respond to each other's nuances that isn't possible in this sort of experiment.
Below: Marina and the Diamonds, which Pandora was surprised that I didn't already know before yesterday. I am anthropomorphizing Pandora too much? I meant to embed more videos, but apparently is developing a love/hate relationship with YouTube. Mostly hate. But the video for "I Am Not a Robot" is also worth watching.
Click to view* Okay, I admit that now I'm totally listening to it and it's sort of incredible.
Part Two:
I've been having a lot of adventures lately, again poorly photographed. Liza half-joked that when Gwen was here, there'd be more pictures taken than the rest of us in the last six months (goodness, I actually have been in New York for six months. strange). It's been super warm so there's been a lot of running around barefoot in Central Park and [sunscreened] sunbathing. My mom learned how to picture-text and sent me a photo of the Wisconsin house I grew up in, shockingly coated in snow. The photo was taken today. Life is weird.
Tomorrow I am going to a racetrack for the first time. I plan to place a [very, very small] bet on the horse with the silliest name.
To be filed under "stereotypically New York experiences", I had my purse stolen from me at a bar last weekend. Thankfully it was at about three in the morning, which is when my mind tends to work the most efficiently, so I managed to cancel my cards et cetera before any real damage was done. (The thief tried to spend about $100 on Metrocards. I mean, really?! That's all you got? No trips to Mexico?) After short-term logistics were taken care of in regard to getting home and getting money, I began to realize many, many, things that were in that purse -- nothing too expensive, but small items like a box of Altoids, a container of rosebud salve, a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for a hot dog at Nathan's. And nostalgic things, like my card from the Pahrump Nugget Casino in Nevada, and my student ID from my university on Japan. After dealing with the absence of my keys, I realized that the most annoying thing was that the robber had taken a lot of things that wouldn't even be useful to him or her. At which point I realized that my Lunette menstrual cup had been stolen along with the purse. Then I pictured the thief squealing with delight over the discovery of a small, beautiful cloth bag -- presumably containing jewelry -- then opening it and going, "...what." (Unless, perhaps, the robber knew some owls that needed hats.) Anyway, after being forced to revert to disposable menstrual products for the first time in over a year and a half, I'm again reminded by how awful it is, and surprised by how many women don't look into other options. Menstrual cups are seriously life-changing.
Amy came to visit for a day and we ran around doing things and not doing things. One of the things we did was attend a giant pillow fight (my third time). At one point after the fight, I was walking toward a statue that was the designated place to meet Liza, and I was stopped by a policewoman who brusquely informed me that I couldn't walk into that part of the park with my pillow. She warned that if I did, then everyone would, and then there would be disorder and chaos and perhaps another pillow fight. I considered suggesting that she go catch my robber, and then we'd talk about the dangers of pillows in unauthorized areas.
I've been going to a lot of readings as of late and I realize I am incredibly lucky to live in this city. A few weeks ago I saw Steve Almond (I read his book Candyfreak in high school), who is coming out with a new book called Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life next week. The excerpts he read were funny but also connecting (I can't think of a better word) in the way that good writing about music is -- showing music as connective tissue between people.