must keel moose und squirrel
Here we are, one month after graduation. With only vague references to singing puppets, I still haven't found my life.
We did have a party, though. That was yesterday. I let my mother, after she went on and on about it, to finally throw me a graduation party. I insisted it be small and that no one actually pay any attention to me. Let's just get all our friends together and have a nice time. No speeches, no spotlights. And so it went, thank god. The cool kids (myself,
cavalaxis, the PM and B - later my uncle) sat outside on the veranda-porch-loggia-portico under the violently magenta bouganvilla. Cavalaxis and B played The Wheel of Dialects (C won, duh), and we talked documentries and Nutcracker and the state of the arts and taking over the world. The grown-ups sat inside, where they were forced to listen to my taste in music (schiziophrenically jumping from U2 to big band to chill electronica to comteporary classical) and talked about god knows what, but at some point I heard someone ask what, exactlly, tea-bagging was. It's that kind of crowd. Anyway, it was a pretty nice clambake. Except it was a tea party. I had cupcakes and finger sandwiches for breakfast this morning!
My uncle and I did talk about the job up north, at least a little. They're still waiting to hear from the client. So, so am I. Alternate gigs are still being hunted down. I've decided to concentrate my search in the NoCal area. I feel like it's more important for me to leave Los Angeles than to settle for the gig in Moorpark. That's kind of a shame, since it wouldn't be that bad, but . . . . I just gotta go.
I've found a way to get a letter to Maurice Sendak. I'm going to try to convince him to talk to me about The Nutcracker. My progress is, um, progressing. I talk about it a lot, and that helps me clarify what I think about the whole thing. I need to get started on some deep research. I wish the internet was smarter. Or maybe bigger. Where is my library of the future!?
::sigh::
We did have a party, though. That was yesterday. I let my mother, after she went on and on about it, to finally throw me a graduation party. I insisted it be small and that no one actually pay any attention to me. Let's just get all our friends together and have a nice time. No speeches, no spotlights. And so it went, thank god. The cool kids (myself,
cavalaxis, the PM and B - later my uncle) sat outside on the veranda-porch-loggia-portico under the violently magenta bouganvilla. Cavalaxis and B played The Wheel of Dialects (C won, duh), and we talked documentries and Nutcracker and the state of the arts and taking over the world. The grown-ups sat inside, where they were forced to listen to my taste in music (schiziophrenically jumping from U2 to big band to chill electronica to comteporary classical) and talked about god knows what, but at some point I heard someone ask what, exactlly, tea-bagging was. It's that kind of crowd. Anyway, it was a pretty nice clambake. Except it was a tea party. I had cupcakes and finger sandwiches for breakfast this morning!
My uncle and I did talk about the job up north, at least a little. They're still waiting to hear from the client. So, so am I. Alternate gigs are still being hunted down. I've decided to concentrate my search in the NoCal area. I feel like it's more important for me to leave Los Angeles than to settle for the gig in Moorpark. That's kind of a shame, since it wouldn't be that bad, but . . . . I just gotta go.
I've found a way to get a letter to Maurice Sendak. I'm going to try to convince him to talk to me about The Nutcracker. My progress is, um, progressing. I talk about it a lot, and that helps me clarify what I think about the whole thing. I need to get started on some deep research. I wish the internet was smarter. Or maybe bigger. Where is my library of the future!?
::sigh::