LaurieWrites

Good things, part three

I am a pain in the ass right now. I am all boring and emo and weird and my brain is like POW, like some kind of terrible place. I stopped the lists of happy things and I am going to finish them tonight, dammit. I am going to forget about my story for a half hour and I'm going to finish them.

Also, it turns out that a lot of times when I'm trying to think of happy things it kind of turns into TMI, as I'm really not a kisser and a teller. Scandal. My list is a little different in my head, is all I'm sayin'.

Refresher...parts one and two.

51. Driving my car for the first time and realizing "Holy shit, this is so awesome, I'm driving an orange car." That still happens occasionally.
52. Getting the truck stuck in the Wendy's drive-through in West Virginia and my sister having to direct me out - backwards - while it did that "I'm backing up" beeping that trucks do.
53. Eating conch everything and loving the Bahamas.
54. Margie laughing at Raghed in the restaurant, him throwing coins at Dave's head behind the bar.
55. Line dancing with Mac Johnson at Martin's Crosswinds.
56. Brunch with Andrew at the Parkway.
57. The lid flying off of Jimmy's ketchup bottle at Joe's Hamburgers.
58. Aunt Ellen screaming in the backyard...running the general store at the beach...calling the McDonald's in South Carolina and scoring a hundred toys because she told them she was running a camp for underprivileged children. Aunt Ellen pretty much everywhere.
59. That moment when the whole house goes to sleep.
60. Granddaddy coming in the house with the groceries, helping him unbag, carrying cans of green beans and tomato juice to the basement.
61. Ruby Engel's stories at the Dayton Manor Care.
62. Getting drunk on books in the Borders, in secondhand stores, in the library.
63. Standing so close, amazed by love, on the Metro platform.
64. Craig reciting "Once I Pass'd Through A Populous City" to me in the living room of that terrible apartment.
65. Smoking on the deck with Shobha, green trees everywhere.
66. Holding hands and talking by the harbor in Baltimore.
67. Gretchen's perfect wedding day.
68. Dancing with my sister, mom and Jane Fonda at the W Hotel in New Orleans.
69. Jesse on the tiny chair, "The card was lost. And it was stolen."
70. Angela and the Asti exploding in the backseat of Darian's dad's Granada.
71. Getting off the plane in Seoul, thinking, "Dude, I'm in KOREA."
72. Driving Sunshine home from the horrible hell she lived in, windows rolled down, Ohio air.
73. Lionel Richie show at JazzFest with Katie.
74. Soundgarden at Lollapalooza.
75. Dancing in Lisa's living room for hours to the music channels. 

So?

Way to piss me off:

Come into my office and say, "MEH. I'm not very happy with your hero Liebovitz."

I wake up warm and in 30 seconds it becomes clear that it's another day of trying to steer my mind away from the bad side streets it seems determined to travel this month...It's another day of tying knots in this rope so I can hang on. It's such a time-sucker that I don't have...time for. Brilliant.

Maybe it's the stress of finals, of having every word I produce elsewhere held up to scrutiny? Some of that is going well and some of it isn't. Everything is sideways. My feelings are firewalled. Can't focus - not one tiny little bit. I'm overreacting, responding to triggers in a way that I know is not productive. And I cannot tell you, cannot determine, where this started or why.

I need something, although I don't like to think about that so I don't. I can't exactly figure out what it is but I need something. I constantly have the feeling like I'm looking for my keys or my glasses except I don't know what it is that's lost. It's very disconcerting. Liz asked the other day if we had a personal theme song and I immediately thought of "Closer To Fine", I just wish I could adhere to the directive.

I want to throw out all the books and papers and pictures and start over. I like some of what I'm doing but I'm a little ready to get started, ready to move on, ready to move. I'm waiting on news of loan money that I know I shouldn't get, but the prospect of freeing up the next several months to "just" finish school and "just" fix my equipment situation - while at the same time giving me some space to look around for where I want to go next - is alluring. It is a little freaky at the same time, too - cutting the remaining ties is something I absolutely know I have to do, it's what this was all for in the first place, but at the same time it kind of makes me want to throw up. I guess it's no wonder I'm a little...at ends. Losing my religion.

I spent 45 unwasteable minutes on the Bonnaroo message boards yesterday, looking for people passing through DC who I could maybe catch a ride with, and concluded that it probably wasn't the year to go in spite of the excellent line-up. Plane tickets to Nashville are crazy cheap so that was an option I considered too. Nothing seemed better in that moment than the prospect of three days walking around in the sun, watching people, listening to music, soaking up a festival vibe that's sorely needed. Then I checked the dates again and realized the effect it would have on two days of a short-term class that I hear I can't miss, and the idea died sadly on the vine. There is so much to do in the next almost-year.

Again, 45 minutes I couldn't waste that I won't get back. As much as I love the Internet, right now I think we need to get a divorce, except it would screw up the online journalism plan I guess.

I'm going to some shows this week even though I have so much work due, because I simply don't want to miss them. I actually think it'll help - will put me in some kind of music therapy for a couple of hours that'll make all this other crap seem bearable. I'm also introducing a friend to one of my favorite bands and venues at the same time, so that should be good.

I stay in motion.

We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off

Writing about music is clearly the procrastination drug of choice this week, as the VH1 background noise continues. Today it's the One-Hit Wonder Countdown.

As a perennial champion of the underdog and the off-the-wall, I love one-hit wonders. And thank you, VH1, because where else is it acceptable to listen to semi-serious commentary about artists like Charlene?
"Charlene was never able to recreate the success she experienced with "I've Never Been To Me." I CANNOT IMAGINE WHY. She took the hand of that preacher man and made love in the sun. Where do you go from there?

Extra points to this show for including Rob Sheffield from Rolling Stone and the author of my favorite book of 2007, "Love Is A Mixtape." (READ IT. READ IT. READ IT.)

Rob on Jermaine Stewart's "We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off":

"It was a very conservative song for a sadly conservative time. It said, "We can dance and party all night, and drink some cherry wine." So we can stay up all night but we don't have to have sex, we'll just get bombed instead."

I might add to this post if any more words of wisdom cry to be shared.

EDIT: Um, the man who wrote "Funkytown" is the bald, white brother of Paul Shaffer. This is Lipps, Incorporated, with two ps? He now runs a computer graphics company in the Midwest. Wow. (Henry Rollins singing the song just kind of made my day, though.)

EDIT: AGH, Suzy Quatro, "Stumblin' In", Leather Tuscadero! (Trivia: the dude that sang the song with her was in the British band Smokie. I really need a job collating such necessary information for this channel.)

However, did she just say she "kicked the door down" for women in rock 'n roll? Janis who?

EDIT: I can perform "Rapper's Delight" in its entirety.

EDIT: I could be stone cold unconscious and if "Groove Is In the Heart" came on I'd wake up like Lazaraus. "Your groove I do deeply dig." 

NOLA 2008

The New Orleans photo set is finally done. Visit and see how I was right there at Ellis Marsalis's feet, totally in Jane Fonda's personal space, and couldn't get a full shot of Kerry Washington to save my life. Oh, there's a shot of Val Kilmer's head in there also, but you can't tell it's him. The sighting led to repeated utterances of Top Gun quotes.

"I don't like you because you're DANGEROUS, man."

The celebrity sightings were only a small part of an absolutely wonderful experience in one of the best cities in the world. I still find it among the most photogenic and inspiring places I've ever been. I saw Habitat For Humanity's Musicians' Village, the lower 9th Ward and the devastated fishing community of Chalmette. I saw more craziness in the French Quarter and thousands of women crying and singing in the Superdome. I danced and took photos with hundreds of strangers in direct view of the Mississippi River. I spent some great time with my mom and my sister and our friend Kelly. I woke up in a cozy bed in a gorgeous room looking out over St. Charles Avenue, with the sun streaming in through the windows, and I believed I hadn't been happier in months.

I also laid down on the sidewalk to take pictures of discarded Mardi Gras beads. I loved this trip and I hope it shows.

Heavy Metal Dance Party

I grew up with all kinds of music in my life and have listened to a weird and pretty respectable variety of it pretty much every day for as long as I can remember. I don't understand just listening to country or classic rock. If that works for people, great, but I can't do it. However, it should be stated for the record that before I got really heavy into singer-songwriter stuff in my early 20s, addicted to the Indigo Girls, Cowboy Junkies, Tracy Chapman and Suzanne Vega such that that was pretty much all I listened to for a period of years, I was a high-functioning metalhead.

I've seen Metallica several times live, count the Monsters of Rock show at RFK stadium in DC in 1988 as one of the most fun days of my life, and obviously did not mind men wearing eyeliner...and oh, the poufy hair. The ridiculous, swooping funny metal boy hair!

I learned last night while I was on self-imposed house arrest that Erin was watching Metal Mania on Vh1 Classics. This amounts to four glorious hours - four - of hard rock/heavy metal videos, unhosted, which is to say that nothing interrupts the rock.

This discovery led to three hours of dancing and screaming often-offensive song lyrics out loud for three hours in my living room, occasionally checking in with Maria and Erin (in California, no less) to type things like "   RRAAAAAAWWWWWWWWRRRRRRR KKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIXXXXXXXXXX." That translates loosely as "I spent way too much time in ridiculous clothing at a bar called Hammerjacks in Baltimore watching these guys sing ridiculous songs and I don't regret a single minute of it." (Except that one minute? Eesh.)

"Midnight Dynamite" is the closest thing I can find to "Get It While It's Hot", which, judging by my reaction  you'd think I'd never enjoyed a video or a song so much, especially one that alluringly states "I'm a love machine/I'm an M16/I'll shoot you full of holes."

Also, I can apparently still jump up and down, which means I'm actually sore today. This was a total blast and next time I am inviting many friends over to suspend reality with me, although this likely means that I can't dispense with the yoga pants when it gets too hot, or when they, (oh...yeah it happened) fall down from the jumping up and down to the Kix song. I had forgotten that headbanging is strenuous work.

By 3 a.m. I had downloaded Cinderella's "Long Cold Winter" and Tora Tora's "Surprise Attack,"  and my neighbor totally hated me I'm sure. I had also screamed - screamed - when "Rock You Like A Hurricane" came on (I love the Scorpions - really talented I daresay), and "Youth Gone Wild" (PARK AVENUE LEADS TO SKID ROW), Cinderella's...some song I can't remember, and laughed aloud at Whitesnake's "Is This Love?"

The kicker, though, came right after I had completely INHABITED  "Women" by Def Leppard, which in spite of being a lot of fun to sing/scream has some of the worst lyrics ever of all time. "The animal instinct/the wanton man." Really? That is so hot. 

No it's not. It is terrible, worse than "Armageddon It," which is nonsensical in its awesomeness too. "She fed him with a hunger, an appetite?" Really? Because if she did that, well go ahead girl, work that shit out, but...wait? Is it "fed" or "filled"? I don't even know, but I'm not checking because the point is that the lyrics are dumb and nothing's going to change my mind. Yet, I forgive, because I love, and still yelled out "HAIR, EYES, SKIN ON SKIN...WHAT'S THAT SPELLLLLLLL" at my tv even though he's saying whole words, which by their very nature don't really spell anything.

When "Women" was over all of a sudden the last 20 years flashed before my eyes and Tim "I can sing anything" McGraw popped up on the screen with the 2008 Def Leppard, who have lost the shredded pants and the Sun-In and look all sophisticated. It was a somewhat jarring transition I have to say, visiting 1989 and all of a sudden being jerked back into the present. On Metal Mania, no less. Anyway, it turns out that Tim McGraw is expanding his empire by doing a song with Def Leppard. He could not stop with Nelly. Tim McGraw can no longer stop the rock, or the videos, or the lucrative special appearances. 

Watch and learn.

I text-messaged my father in South Carolina, to notify him that his second-BFFS Def Leppard (Bon Jovi are his first) were putting out a song with Tim McGraw, and sent this reflective message to the Twitter universe: "   Am adding Def Leppard as Myspace friends. Am masquerading as 37-year-old person." I don't see a DC date yet, but if it happens I'm so there. 

"Women" has a Wikipedia entry, by the way. And in preparation for my next Heavy Metal Dance Party, solo or with likeminded souls, I'm going to read this book, or maybe just this one (because Tommy Lee needs to pay for the anger management classes somehow.)

I am not ashamed to say that this was just the thing I needed to break up the stress of impending doom final projects. This music was part of some of the most ridiculous and wonderful times in my life and it's a perfect time to release the little inner metalhead. It seems I've been growing my hair out for a reason.

Vanity? Celebration?

I kind of smashed my eye here which is a little weird, but dude, almost one chin. ;)

Sorry. Had to do it. Archival purposes.

Hey bird. Don't you come over here and crap on me.

Check out a small bit of the conversation I had with my grandmother. I explain at the link why I recorded it and you can hear a small segment of it there. I've never worked with Adobe Audition before and I am now running screaming back to GarageBand.

I set the Vox site up specifically for my "slice" multimedia class, because adding that stuff here plus inviting my professors to read my BLOG seemed a bit much. Turns out I really like it there though. It's much easier to add audio and video files - even pictures, come to think of it. I'll probably be moving over there more seriously at some point.

Jillian Michaels Wants Me to Disappear.

I lost five pounds in Vietnam. And no it wasn't because the food was terrible. The food was actually really good, for the most part (except that one pho place that Hoang took us to? The one I totally blame the really disgusting MOUTH ULCERS on? Not so much.)

I lost five pounds because it was hot and I walked for hours and drank exceptionally large amounts of water every day. Because you are cautioned against drinking any water out of the tap at all whatsoever by every alarmist travel book and Website in the world lest you come home with your intestines sticking out of your belly button, bottled water is the deal, fragile coastal ecosystem be damned. (Stupid environment! Blah! Buzzkill! Shut up!) The hotels are very nice and put the big bottles of water in the fridge in your room. And the big bottles at the local stores and in the market stalls, which are literally piled on top of each other so you could buy water every second of the day if you wanted to, are like 75 cents. (Oh how I miss having thousands of dong - that's money - in my pocket. I felt so rich.)

I also lost weight I guess because I didn't really have time to eat a lot because we were doing things like crawling around in ditches by the side of the road to get photos and walking through fields and carrying backpacks full of cameras through factories. The smartest thing I did in a rare moment of planning and PERSPICACITY (that's my word of the week. Welcome to my planet.) was to pack a whole bag of Fruit Roll-Ups, which are so very tasty and lovely and became my favorite thing all of a sudden, and Luna Bars. The lemon and the peanut butter ones are awesome. And sometimes when I got overwhelmed by food I didn't understand in areas I was pretty sure would lead to the intestine issue I referenced above, I had something in my backpack that while not exactly scrumptious would keep my blood sugar level and therefore keep the hunger insanity at bay until the next solid meal. Ta-da - this is smart to do at home too. Keeping my sugar level will not only hopefully stave off the diabetes that I've probably been causing with the crap I've been putting in my body for far too long, but it also keeps me from eating far too much at one meal, which seems to be helping. I don't know - too soon to tell, really.

Plus Hanoi is a very walkable city. There's a ton to see and do so walking for miles every day seemed like a really sensible thing to do. I had this pervasive sense of "I might never be here again! I'm in Vietnam using a lot of exclamation points! I want to see what's on that street even if it's just like what's on this street!" And yet it somehow never was. I was totally drunk on seeing things I'd never seen before and I'd just keep going another block to keep that going.

I've been home now for a month and although I swore I wouldn't compound the stress of the last month of school with a fixation on weight because I want to hold on to the last shred of my sanity, I've managed to keep that off plus another pound. Yay stress and procrastination diet!

The other night I actually signed up for the Jillian Michaels program. I know. I'm so ashamed. But I wanted some structure and if I go anywhere near Weight Watchers again one more time in my life I'll quite simply weep. The Biggest Loser is an insane show that I was nonetheless addicted to, and at this point I just know I need to get this particular situation under control and I'll take whatever ripped, gorgeous personal trainer mascot I can get. Even just six pounds down I kind of have a waist again and I sort of want to take myself out on a date a little more. With (coughcough) more to go, I need a little bit of help. I have some big events coming up this summer and I'd prefer to be not only in primo shape for endurance purposes but also to LOVE THE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE that I know will exist.

(And yes I did just type that sentence and no I am not erasing it because it's so embarrassing and grammatically incorrect that I think it should be left there to shine like it does for eternity.)

Now, I know all about self-acceptance and how you're supposed to love yourself regardless and you are not your weight and all that jazz. I've lived in this body for a long time now as a person who hasn't been thin, so I think I'm pretty much an authority on how it feels and how I feel about IT. And whereas I do think that there is a level of self-acceptance that's necessary at any size to keep anyone functioning and walking out the door in the morning, I also think there's nothing wrong with having goals that relate to your physical appearance and your health. I know I could put less pressure on my knees, especially looking at the SERIOUS troubles my overweight grandmother had that could have been alleviated some if she'd been able to lose some. I think of myself in 1999 - a long time ago to be sure and I know I'll never physically BE 28 again, I get it - and I know how strong I felt when I not only lost the extra 30 pounds I carry when I'm not being careful, but I actually had arm definition and NO MORE EXTRA CHINS. My eyes weren't squinchy. I smiled more and I was more confident. I don't see any harm in trying for that again, and I finally feel like I"m mentally and situationally ready to do it, which hasn't been the case for almost ten years.

So this is the first rah-rah message I get from Jillian, who I'm sure typed it herself:

"I told you it was simple math!  You're on your way to 0 lbs."

One of us needs to adjust her expectations. I'll keep you posted. 

Look

114 (sutter)
Originally uploaded by heather.

I am a huge fan of Heather's work - photo and writing and vibe in general. I'm amazed by her range and impressed with her grasp of different kinds of cameras and what they do. Maybe someday.

I haven't shot with Polaroid in years even though I see so much great work done with it on the photo sites I frequent online. I'm sad it's going away, and might have to go out with the camera we have here just to play one day soon.

This shot grabbed me like I haven't been in awhile. Just look at it for a minute. I did.