My Jawsome Weekend: Saturday (featuring Jessica Kallam as a hot, emotional mess)
My Saturday was uneventful.
I woke up full of excitement - Frank was going to record Bearkat upstairs in Katy's apartment, and I was looking forward to a day that I could devote to songwriting with zit cream on my face. I awoke, ate breakfast, showered, dabbed the cream on my spots and was sitting at my computer when in walked Katy and Kyle, trumpet, trombone, melodica, banjo and accordion in tow.
The recording was to take place in Frank's studio/my writing space! How could I have missed that? Dejected about not being able to carry out my Saturday plans the way I pictured, and also embarrassed that Katy and Kyle saw me with stuff all over my face, I sulked for a good half hour. I debated whether to unplug the keyboard and try to get focused in the bedroom (no, I'll be paranoid about the noise during their recordings), and if I left the apartment should I take my notebook along to write and where would I go (it'd be so cliche if I went to a coffeehouse to work, although I do feel like having coffee). I scrubbed my zit cream off my face, grabbed my notebook and tried (unsuccessfully) to escape without bringing down the mood of the day's recording endeavor, which was about to begin.
Frank noticed I was unhappy and we talked a bit in the garage. I told him about my disappointment at my altered plans, and how I was more unhappy that I was so affected by it that I became emotional and dragged everyone down with my sulking. After he went back upstairs I got the rest of my crying out in my car (sometimes you just have to cry, even if you wish you weren't crying in the first place), and drove around for a while. I dropped off our recycling at Whole Foods. I tried to go to the Getty Center to spread out on the grass, but I could see from a few blocks away that parking would prove to be hellish. I tried to go to the beach where Katy and I had been two nights prior, but traffic was bad, so I settled for parking in a spot with 25 minutes left on the meter and just writing. I didn't write anything great but at least I did something with myself.
As I sat there, someone came to my window and asked if I was "going to leave anytime soon." Usually in this situation I'm extremely obliging, and would have driven off. But I had been forced/forced myself out of my apartment and damn it if this wiry, bleach blonde, middle-aged dude was going to force me out of this parking spot. "I still have 19 minutes on my meter," I replied without even rolling down my window, and he gave me an "eh forget you" gesture and walked off.
Later Frank took pictures of Katy's bear bonnet, which I sewed for her myself. No matter what your opinion is, I sure am proud of it, because I made this thing from my own pattern and everything. Katy likes it, I think she looks adorable in it...she is a BearKat when she puts it on. La la.
That evening Frank and I ate caramel apples, drank German beer and watched Magnolia, which I really wanted to watch since I was listening to Aimee Mann during my drive that day. It's long, but it's a good movie. And there's lots of Aimee Mann, who rules.
I woke up full of excitement - Frank was going to record Bearkat upstairs in Katy's apartment, and I was looking forward to a day that I could devote to songwriting with zit cream on my face. I awoke, ate breakfast, showered, dabbed the cream on my spots and was sitting at my computer when in walked Katy and Kyle, trumpet, trombone, melodica, banjo and accordion in tow.
The recording was to take place in Frank's studio/my writing space! How could I have missed that? Dejected about not being able to carry out my Saturday plans the way I pictured, and also embarrassed that Katy and Kyle saw me with stuff all over my face, I sulked for a good half hour. I debated whether to unplug the keyboard and try to get focused in the bedroom (no, I'll be paranoid about the noise during their recordings), and if I left the apartment should I take my notebook along to write and where would I go (it'd be so cliche if I went to a coffeehouse to work, although I do feel like having coffee). I scrubbed my zit cream off my face, grabbed my notebook and tried (unsuccessfully) to escape without bringing down the mood of the day's recording endeavor, which was about to begin.
Frank noticed I was unhappy and we talked a bit in the garage. I told him about my disappointment at my altered plans, and how I was more unhappy that I was so affected by it that I became emotional and dragged everyone down with my sulking. After he went back upstairs I got the rest of my crying out in my car (sometimes you just have to cry, even if you wish you weren't crying in the first place), and drove around for a while. I dropped off our recycling at Whole Foods. I tried to go to the Getty Center to spread out on the grass, but I could see from a few blocks away that parking would prove to be hellish. I tried to go to the beach where Katy and I had been two nights prior, but traffic was bad, so I settled for parking in a spot with 25 minutes left on the meter and just writing. I didn't write anything great but at least I did something with myself.
As I sat there, someone came to my window and asked if I was "going to leave anytime soon." Usually in this situation I'm extremely obliging, and would have driven off. But I had been forced/forced myself out of my apartment and damn it if this wiry, bleach blonde, middle-aged dude was going to force me out of this parking spot. "I still have 19 minutes on my meter," I replied without even rolling down my window, and he gave me an "eh forget you" gesture and walked off.
Later Frank took pictures of Katy's bear bonnet, which I sewed for her myself. No matter what your opinion is, I sure am proud of it, because I made this thing from my own pattern and everything. Katy likes it, I think she looks adorable in it...she is a BearKat when she puts it on. La la.
That evening Frank and I ate caramel apples, drank German beer and watched Magnolia, which I really wanted to watch since I was listening to Aimee Mann during my drive that day. It's long, but it's a good movie. And there's lots of Aimee Mann, who rules.