Best junk mail EVER:
Author: Brendan
So last night I accomplished one of my life goals: playing music, live, with both members of Grandma’s Genius! Jon and I have played together for years, of course, and Chris and I played several times during GSP 2001, but last night was the first time we’d all played together (literally–we went on sans practice).
We actually sounded really good, especially on the Guster covers (Demons and Airport Song). We all wished there was a way to record it, but none of us had the equipment handy (or in fact at all). I kind of messed up myfavorite Jon song, Tennessee, by trying to play keyboard on it; it may have been an omen when the sustain pedal on my piano broke a few hours before we went on.
Even so, there was nothing that sounded bad and quite a lot that sounded good. I think they might even hire me as their touring drummer! (Note that by “hire” I mean “permit.”)
Ben Folds was stunning, again, this time even more so because he was playing solo–just him and the piano (which I think is still the name of the tour)–and it didn’t feel like anything was missing. He got an almost unfair amount of music out of it: stomping the pedals like a kick drum, tapping on the mike in lieu of toms, and of course conducting the audience in place of strings or trumpets or whatever.
And that might be the best part. I went in planning to scream for Where’s Summer B.?, easily my favorite BF5 song and one I didn’t really expect to hear even upon request. And he DID play it! Without provocation, as like the fourth song! And we got to sing the best background vocals in any song ever!
So that was good. And then! Not only did I finally meet Jon’s friend Ana, who is unspeakably cool, but we met a bunch of UK friends at the Tolly Ho afterwards. These included my old friend Audrey, whom I hadn’t seen since spring (and before that not for probably two years), and her roommate Alden, whom I’d never met. It was a great time.
And then, the next day, Audrey and I were commenting (via email) about how much fun the whole thing was, and that we should hang out more often, and I asked her to the Centre fall dance and she totally said yeah!
The (large) part of me that is still a sophomore in high school is dancing for joy right now.
Anyway, the week has been work work rehearse rehearse other than that. This weekend’s Centre homecoming, and though it can’t possibly match my own for nostalgia, I’m sure it will surpass it in quantity of graduated friends. Or you could take Lisa’s hunch and predict that it’s going to be “mad drama.” Whatever. I’m just looking forward to sleeping in.
so she won’t sleep better alone
and they won’t feel better alone
The heat appears to operate entirely independent of my control, turning itself on sometime around 10 am and turning itself off around 10 pm. The knobs on some of the radiators don’t turn at all,and the ones that do turn have no effect. I wasn’t under the impression that this was how radiators worked! Evening is interesting, at least, as I have to open windows around 6 and turn the space heater on again by 11.
Things that have distracted me lately:
- “…our machines have to keep grinding over it, the grit in their backwash sandblasting the blood away.”
- “Ah, it’s just someone sitting there, because you don’t see dead bodies, you just don’t.”
- The same girl who recommended
- Also, they have a song about Lion-O.
- As the only one of my friends still here for the break, I’m taking care not only of Idaho but of Meghan’s turtle and Ken’s red-bellied frogs (plus their cricket-based food source). The resulting situation can be seen camwards.
And that’s the news from Kentucky.
We slept in the back of her SUV with the windows cracked and her sweater for a pillow. Around 8 or so I woke up and looked around, and there were three deer outside–two of them chasing each other, one just making its stately way across the field. They were maybe ten feet away. I thought about waking her up so she could see them, but she’d set her alarm for 9, and since we hadn’t actually gotten to sleep until around 5:30 (I think) I figured she could use another hour.
She’d scooted over in her sleep to the point where I was kind of crushed against the door. One of my arms was still asleep from where I’d had my head on it, and it was numbingly cold, especially since I’d given her most of the blanket. It had been less than nine hours since we met. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable.
The deer left, but by the time she woke up they were back.
Things I Hate About Running
- The way I look afterwards.
- Fucking gnats.
- My legs hurt all the time. It’s my own fault, obviously, for running five days a week. I’m building new muscle, too, which is kind of a novelty, but I think a lot of it is the fact that I’m running on concrete instead of grass. I wish there were something I could do about that. I am alone in my circle of acquaintances in that I’ve had good knees for most of my life, and I’d rather not lose them now.
- Uphills.
- Forgetting my towel for my shower afterwards. I’ve done it so frequently now that I finally taped a sign to the bathroom door to remind me. Running about naked is all well and good, but who wants to drip all over the linoleum?
Things I Love About Running
- The dachshunds in somebody’s back yard at my end-of-West Lexington turnaround. They’re always very excited and concerned to see me, even though I’ve been coming by almost daily for a month.They remind me of our dachshund, Fritzi, who died a couple years ago and who had one of the most expressive faces I’ve ever seen.
- Downhills. The dip between St. Mildreds and Fifth Street is awful on the way up, but on the way down coming back it’s like an obstacle course–a lot of head-level tree limbs and street signs to tap. Also, I’m one of a select group of people the world over who really understand how to run downhill, so I can really cut loose (the secret is to go ahead and start falling, and trust your legs to catch up).
- Showers afterwards, which I like to start pretty hot and end icy. I feel like I’m running on auto a lot lately, so the shock of awareness that comes with the cold water is a rare and beautiful thing.
- And speaking of cold water: running in the rain. I got to do that yesterday, and it ranks high on the list of Best Things There Is. It was hard rain, too, like of significantly higher humidity than your average pond. My clothes haven’t dried yet.
Since yesterday I’ve been trying to quantify exactly what it is about running in the rain that’s so great, and I’ve yet to come up with anything concrete. It’s a certain I don’t know what.
Partly it’s that you stay cool and your mouth doesn’t dry out, and partly it’s the feeling that you’re fighting something other than gravity and yourself, and partly it’s just the sense of abandon you get from realizing that it doesn’t matter how wet you are because you’re just going to get wetter. Maybe it’s the ozone. Or maybe it’s just that you get to look at the torrents of water and the mud and the clouds, and think “what kind of maniac would be out in this weather?” and then think “oh, yeah, me.”
Things I Love AND Hate About Running
- Schrodinger Point. There’s a day, about every couple weeks or so, when I realize I’ve just jogged almost my entire route without taking a break. It’s cool because, well, it means I’m stronger and faster and in better shape than I have been in a while. It’s simultaneously totally uncool, because it means I’m going to have to run longer or faster my next time out. Thus Schrodinger Point: it exists in both states at the same time! (This isn’t technically what Schrodinger was describing, but in this case accuracy is discarded in favor of sounding cool.)
Tonight: Elvis Costello!
There’s a part in The Perks of Being A Wallflower that describes riding in a truck at night with people you love, watching traffic lights and listening to “Asleep” by the Smiths. The narrator calls it feeling infinite.
Coming back from dinner and the music store tonight, we took the back way around Danville. Jon had just bought the new Flaming Lips album, and it was playing, and he and Amanda were silhouetted by red and white lights and I was in the back and for a few minutes everything was right with the world.
It’s a good feeling.
Today is my brother Ian’s birthday! Happy birthday, Ian! Ian is no longer a teenager, and if he were predictable he’d probably stop stealing people’s lawn ornaments now. Ian is anything but predictable, though, so he may or may not continue stealing lawn ornaments. He’s a madman!
(I’d link you to his website there, but he currently has a beautifully written and really sweet piece about me on his front page and I’m too embarrassed. Remind me again another time. It’s a neat site, and has dinosaurs and spacemen.)
More ways in which the world is a wonderful place: Ken blew me a new fishbowl! Out of glass! Ken can do anything. The bowl is huge and perfect, and Idaho tends to get lost in it and do backflips. Were I to spontaneously develop gills, I think I’d move in next to him.
ALSO! As you may have noticed from the link above, Ken finally obeyed my
Whoops. I put together the entry just before this, about an hour ago, thinking that I didn’t have much besides internet stuff to talk about. I completely forgot that yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my very first online journal entry.
That does make it by far the longest-running journal of any kind I’ve had, but then the next longest was about four months, so it’s been that for a while. And of course I can’t say it was the first NFD entry, because it wasn’t NFD then, just the journal I put together for kicks and hid behind my webcam pic. The interface was pretty awful, but then I was modeling it almost exactly on Emma’s. Also, I was young.
Anyway, yeah, wow, a year. One hundred forty-six entries, for just over four tenths of an entry per day. Since I was trying for one every other day, that’s not too bad.
I’ve fallen down a few times recently, but at least now it’s for different reasons. Maybe running is the art of not slowing down, and walking is the art of just getting up. I haven’t kept anything going this long before, and I’m still going now, and there’s something to be said for that.
Here’s to a year.