I spent all of yesterday with Rachel, I won't go too in depth about everything we did, but it was a good time. We watched an old favorite of hers, When Harry Met Sally. I thought it was a very good film, very classic and timeless. Anyway, today we saw in theaters The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. On the list of things I think I could do really well if I were only slightly different, besides a defense attorney, an architect, etc., is a movie reviewer. So indulge me for a moment.
Walking in I didn't know what to expect. I saw absolutely no press about it beforehand, no trailers, no commercials, I only knew the basic premise (a man born old and aging backwards, growing younger while everyone else grows older) and thought it might be something I'd enjoy. It was of course a very excellent film. The performances were strong, the cinematography was breath-taking, however I have one basic complaint which keeps it from being a favorite of mine, probably of anybody's.
In this film, the vast range of human emotions, motivations, and experiences possible with a story like this are all buried underneath the technicalities of it all. The entire length of the first act of the film we're being asked to emotionally connect with a CGI puppet. Don't get me wrong, there are certain scenes where he might as well be a real person, the technology is so picture-perfect. Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly so consistent as it would have to have been. Regardless, instead of pondering the plight of this child whose been so prematurely deprived of his youth, I was comparing him to Gollum (his croaky frog voice didn't help this at all). Computer graphics will never substitute for a real actor, despite what modern Hollywood might like us to think. At least, not in this context. In a fantasy world like Harry Potter, I can believe that blue house-elf with the giant eyes is really warning Harry about the fate of the magical world. In a completely CGI film like Wall-E, I can believe that adorable tiny robot is saving the planet. In the super-realistic, nostalgic world of the late nineteenth century, a computer avatar sticks out like a freaking whopper of a sore thumb.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when many scenes later I squinted at our hero and was satisfied that he is now finally being portrayed by a real person. That's when I discovered, to my dismay, that this person was Brad Pitt. Great. Now instead of comparing Benjamin Button to Gollam, I was comparing him to every other role I've seen Brad Pitt play (a danger with any film that uses actors we're all too familiar with). And throughout the rest of the film, I simply couldn't stop myself from obsessively doing the math in regards to his age (okay, he started at eighty, he's now twenty-five, so he should look sixty-five...), again and again as he gradually grew younger/older. I found out later Rachel had the exact same problem. The make-up is very good, and Pitt's acting for the different ages is spot-on, but given the basic premise of the film this fact-checking proved extremely distracting.
You see the flaw? You could have a really heart-felt, engaging story, but all the technicalities both in premise and in execution hide it all beneath the surface. That's what keeps this from being a truly great film. The director and actors all obviously tried so very hard to make ends meet, to make this story make sense, so that the humanity of the story, what makes it so special, ended up getting pulled through the wringer in the process.
It is a runway show of extremely gifted film making, it is not a heart-felt story.
I enjoyed the beauty of the film, I enjoyed the expertise employed, but ultimately it is very forgettable, which is sad, since it could have been so good.
Now, I say all that, but of course there were some human elements to the movie, it had some very good moments, and I did enjoy it quite a bit. This is just an overall impression.
A lot of reviews mention the source from whence it came, F. Scott Fitzgerald's original short story, but only briefly, at least from what I read. What's funny is, I think that's the answer right there. If they hadn't diverged so drastically from their source, instead of another Forrest Gump (the similarities are indeed endless) we could have had something much more important. Fitzgerald's story has many different aspects to it, it starts out a cartoonish farce, but develops into an extremely sad portrayal of an oddly relatable character. Fitzgerald's Benjamin Button, despite his very unusual circumstances, has all the same human flaws and characteristics related to aging that we see in ourselves. I believe Fitzgerald was trying to get us to look at our lives in another way, to see how we give things up and treat the ones we love so foolishly, and only want what we want and are never content where we are.
The movie lost track of this interpretation entirely somewhere along the way. What you see on screen is simply the story of a man with an unfortunate, incurable disease that isolates him from the rest of the world merely because of the way he looks. If he was born say, a leper, or a dwarf, his life would largely have been the same. When he looks old he is otherwise a normal toddler, with a normal toddler's experiences and mind. When he looks young he has the wisdom and experience of an old man. When you really think about it, how much should it actually matter how he looks? If he and everybody else in the movie weren't so wrapped up in his appearance, he could have had a completely normal, mundane life. The concept of the film is still a good one, it is still a very good story to be told (as this theme of the separation between mind and body is an interesting one), but it's not at all the same story as the one F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote.
In the original short story, Benjamin Button was born an old man, literally an old man, a cigar-smoking, encyclopedia-reading old man. As he grows older, or should I say younger, he gets married to a woman who is much younger than he is, and for all intents and purposes she is married to an older man. Then he is younger still, and she grows older, and he finds he wants to go to parties and dance with other young women, even though he's forty. His wife acts her age, on the other hand, and he loses interest in her. He continues growing younger, and decides to go off to college, something he couldn't do earlier when he was older. He starts off a freshman and champion of the university's football team, but as he continues to grow younger by his senior year he is much too small to play, and on top of that his studies seem to be too advanced for him, as his mind is also growing younger. After graduating he moves in with his son, who wants nothing to do with him, and wants his own father to call him "uncle", to save face in front of visitors. Benjamin vainly tries re-joining the military, but of course can't for now he is a small child, and eventually becomes only concerned with the walls of his crib, and his walks in the park, until he can't remember anything at all, and it all fades into darkness.
When we're young we're continually longing to be older, when we're old we're continually longing to be younger. When Benjamin Button is older he in fact quite happy, but as he grows younger, he becomes more and more unhappy as he longs for his age again. He is in effect getting what every elderly person would give everything for, the chance to be young and beautiful, but it ends up costing him everything.
It's a much colder, biting story. Very critical and almost a little hopeless. But it would have made for a much better film, though Hollywood does love it's drippy love stories such as the one it's turned this into. Though it may make less logical sense, like how on earth Benjamin's mother delivered a 5'8" man complete with beard, it makes for a more unique and meaningful story, most importantly one devoid of CGI puppets and make-up more advanced than the stuff adorning Orson Wells in Citizen Kane.
Anyway, looking forward to another week off. Lots to do though, busy busy busy. I'll be sure to keep in touch.
-Dr. M
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Post-Xmas
This Christmas was a real surprise. I wasn't expecting very much, but I ended up getting a few of the best gifts I've ever gotten. We woke up pretty late, around eleven, and enjoyed each others company for a little while until Rachel joined us around noon. I hung out with her, we exchanged gifts (got me a lunch kettle, with Spongebob Squarepants on it), it was nice. Then my brother Jeff and his wife Amy joined us (shortly after Rachel had to leave to be with her family), and then we all gave each other our gifts and had a very good day.
I had given Jeff and Amy a list of CDs I wanted earlier in the month, for a Christmas list, figuring they were the most likely to come through in this area. When Amy handed me my gift -six CD-shaped packages all wrapped and tied together- I got that "intestines falling out of your butt" feeling (doesn't anyone else get that?). They got me almost every Beck CD I didn't have (which was everything except The Information)!! Beck has been one of my favorite artists lately, and I'd heard a bunch of these songs before, but now I have them all in CD form. I was expecting to listen to them all at once right in a row... but I never got past Mellow Gold. I put it on, played it, then played it again... I've played it probably five times since yesterday. It's so amazing!! I love every song. It's so fresh, so spontaneous. Anyway, now my expectations are unrealistically high for the rest of the albums which I'll slowly be making my way through in the next few days.
My mom got me the computer chair I wanted, which is awesome. So it ended up being a really great Christmas.
My brother assembled my computer yesterday, and started working out the software. See, my computer is a little... "special needs". It's hardware made for Windows that's running Mac osx on it. The day after Mac started running on Intel it was hacked and this was made possible, no longer do you have to pay for incredibly over-priced hardware that's completely un-upgradeable in order to have your Mac operating system. I need a Mac computer to run Logic, the music recording program I will soon be upgrading to. But I didn't want to pay a thousand dollars for that stupid huge fugly computer screen with everything built into it, a lot of which I don't need, nor did I want another sardine-can mini mac desktop, which can't run as fast and doesn't have the space I need. So this was the solution.
It requires hacking and general renegadery (don't install any updates -they'll find you!), but as far as I knew going in, as soon as Mac was installed, I would have a normal, stable computer just like anybody else's. So far we've had problems at every turn. Getting Mac onto it to begin with was a chore. Now there are still a lot of kinks that have to be worked out. Every time I want to plug something into a USB port I have to restart the computer. It won't have internet capabilities anytime in the immediate future (so for now, you are still reading what I type from the family computer downstairs). These are things that can and will be fixed, but let me just say I don't have such a great feeling about this. I wanted a stable computer that will last me... so far ol' Frankenstein's Macintosh chilling there on my desk isn't quite cutting it. Dan assures me it will be fine, it will work out... just don't install any updates!!
I'll let you know how that goes. In the meantime today I saw a movie with Rachel and her family- Marley and Me, a movie about a dog and the lives of the people who own him. I don't know, I'm not much of an animal person. I mean, let's get real... it is just a dog, there's only so much heart-wrenching drama you can get out of situations surrounding a dog's life. I like dogs fine, but to me, they're animals... animals is animals is animals. They're great companions for lonely or troubled people, me I'll take actual human companionship any day. The movie basically came out and said at the end, "Dogs make you feel good, therefor they are better than people". That kind of message never sits well with me.
Then I had work, which was long and horrible.
I wish I had had more time to spend with just Rachel... but luckily I believe I will be doing plenty of that tee-morrow. So I better get to bed!
Pray for me and Frankenstein's Macintosh.
-Dr. M
I had given Jeff and Amy a list of CDs I wanted earlier in the month, for a Christmas list, figuring they were the most likely to come through in this area. When Amy handed me my gift -six CD-shaped packages all wrapped and tied together- I got that "intestines falling out of your butt" feeling (doesn't anyone else get that?). They got me almost every Beck CD I didn't have (which was everything except The Information)!! Beck has been one of my favorite artists lately, and I'd heard a bunch of these songs before, but now I have them all in CD form. I was expecting to listen to them all at once right in a row... but I never got past Mellow Gold. I put it on, played it, then played it again... I've played it probably five times since yesterday. It's so amazing!! I love every song. It's so fresh, so spontaneous. Anyway, now my expectations are unrealistically high for the rest of the albums which I'll slowly be making my way through in the next few days.
My mom got me the computer chair I wanted, which is awesome. So it ended up being a really great Christmas.
My brother assembled my computer yesterday, and started working out the software. See, my computer is a little... "special needs". It's hardware made for Windows that's running Mac osx on it. The day after Mac started running on Intel it was hacked and this was made possible, no longer do you have to pay for incredibly over-priced hardware that's completely un-upgradeable in order to have your Mac operating system. I need a Mac computer to run Logic, the music recording program I will soon be upgrading to. But I didn't want to pay a thousand dollars for that stupid huge fugly computer screen with everything built into it, a lot of which I don't need, nor did I want another sardine-can mini mac desktop, which can't run as fast and doesn't have the space I need. So this was the solution.
It requires hacking and general renegadery (don't install any updates -they'll find you!), but as far as I knew going in, as soon as Mac was installed, I would have a normal, stable computer just like anybody else's. So far we've had problems at every turn. Getting Mac onto it to begin with was a chore. Now there are still a lot of kinks that have to be worked out. Every time I want to plug something into a USB port I have to restart the computer. It won't have internet capabilities anytime in the immediate future (so for now, you are still reading what I type from the family computer downstairs). These are things that can and will be fixed, but let me just say I don't have such a great feeling about this. I wanted a stable computer that will last me... so far ol' Frankenstein's Macintosh chilling there on my desk isn't quite cutting it. Dan assures me it will be fine, it will work out... just don't install any updates!!
I'll let you know how that goes. In the meantime today I saw a movie with Rachel and her family- Marley and Me, a movie about a dog and the lives of the people who own him. I don't know, I'm not much of an animal person. I mean, let's get real... it is just a dog, there's only so much heart-wrenching drama you can get out of situations surrounding a dog's life. I like dogs fine, but to me, they're animals... animals is animals is animals. They're great companions for lonely or troubled people, me I'll take actual human companionship any day. The movie basically came out and said at the end, "Dogs make you feel good, therefor they are better than people". That kind of message never sits well with me.
Then I had work, which was long and horrible.
I wish I had had more time to spend with just Rachel... but luckily I believe I will be doing plenty of that tee-morrow. So I better get to bed!
Pray for me and Frankenstein's Macintosh.
-Dr. M
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
'Twas the Night Before... yeah
These past two days it's really started to feel a little more like Christmas. Yesterday was the big party we throw with the *mother says I shouldn't use real name* family. My mother has been friends with Aunt Sue (not a blood relative, but might as well be) since college, and my brother and I and her kids have grown up much closer than I am to any of my real cousins. Her daughters are all grown up, and married with children. We started this tradition of having everyone over for caroling every Christmas season, and yesterday was this year's party. Let's see if I can count all of the kids who were over...
Margie and her husband Joel have five kids, three boys and two girls. Becka has twins, a boy and a girl. Julie has one child. That's eight kids who all crowded into my house yesterday. Aunt Sue's oldest son Paul was on his way but broke down, that would have been another set of twins had he made it. Craziness! So many little kids.
Aunt Sue's two youngest, Andy and Josh (Andy is two years older than me, Josh is four years older than me) were very close to my brother and I through childhood. Andy recently graduated from a culinary arts program and is going to be a chef, and couldn't make it yesterday. Josh works for a security firm in da hood, he's already been shot at and everything. He was over briefly yesterday before leaving with Joel to have coffee with the other married men.
I'm not sure why I'm writing all of this (probably for my sake, just to make sure I remember all of it). Anyway Rachel was over as well, so I enjoyed myself somewhat, despite the noise and confusion. The cat went nuts, for some reason my mother was surprised. Singing Christmas carols is always fun as well.
Today I had work, but then in the evening I joined Rachel's extended family for their annual Christmas Eve party. I enjoy seeing them, they're pretty fun. Much more fun than her immediate family, I'm not sure how that worked out.
So I'm pretty well in the spirit, especially because I got my first gift yesterday in the mail. EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT CAME!!!! Now my brother just has to finish assembling it and hacking the motherboard so it can run Mac. I guess it's safe to say I'm pretty excited.
Anyway, I hope you, whoever you are, wherever you are, are having a very nice holiday season. Happy birthday Jesus, another year older, though I suppose that must not mean much to you.
-Dr. M
Margie and her husband Joel have five kids, three boys and two girls. Becka has twins, a boy and a girl. Julie has one child. That's eight kids who all crowded into my house yesterday. Aunt Sue's oldest son Paul was on his way but broke down, that would have been another set of twins had he made it. Craziness! So many little kids.
Aunt Sue's two youngest, Andy and Josh (Andy is two years older than me, Josh is four years older than me) were very close to my brother and I through childhood. Andy recently graduated from a culinary arts program and is going to be a chef, and couldn't make it yesterday. Josh works for a security firm in da hood, he's already been shot at and everything. He was over briefly yesterday before leaving with Joel to have coffee with the other married men.
I'm not sure why I'm writing all of this (probably for my sake, just to make sure I remember all of it). Anyway Rachel was over as well, so I enjoyed myself somewhat, despite the noise and confusion. The cat went nuts, for some reason my mother was surprised. Singing Christmas carols is always fun as well.
Today I had work, but then in the evening I joined Rachel's extended family for their annual Christmas Eve party. I enjoy seeing them, they're pretty fun. Much more fun than her immediate family, I'm not sure how that worked out.
So I'm pretty well in the spirit, especially because I got my first gift yesterday in the mail. EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT CAME!!!! Now my brother just has to finish assembling it and hacking the motherboard so it can run Mac. I guess it's safe to say I'm pretty excited.
Anyway, I hope you, whoever you are, wherever you are, are having a very nice holiday season. Happy birthday Jesus, another year older, though I suppose that must not mean much to you.
-Dr. M
Monday, December 22, 2008
Scrapbooks and Choirs
Yesterday I finished my project for the English class gift exchange that took place today. I decorated the cover of a scrap book.
I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though it was very rushed. I enjoy making these kinds of collages, it is the one area of visual art I'm interested in seriously exploring, so expect more of this sometime.
The girl I gave it to seemed to like it. From the exchange I recieved two t-shirts, one that says "Tim Da Man" and another that says "Jus Be Cool" [sic] with my last name on the back. Possibly the most random, most awesome gifts I've ever received, I plan on wearing them often. I have no idea what the girl who gave them to me's original intentions were, maybe she was slightly inebriated at the time, but regardless they were the best things she could have given me. She asked my girlfriend when she was visiting about my favorite color, to which Rachel replied "earthy colors" (which is true), and somehow this girl took that to mean an awkward, faded lime-green color which couldn't possibly match anything in anybody's wardrobe. Only adding to the awesomeness.
Actually, on second thought, her card said she wanted to give me a gift "as cool and unique" as I am. These gifts sure are unique, but... seriously... "Tim Da Man"? I'm not sure what she's trying to say.
Anyway, today we had our last chamber choir performance in conjunction with these gals:
Sweet Adelines, Reading Pagoda chapter. I love these girls. They perform barbershop-style a capella numbers, looking just as perky and happy to still be alive as you could possibly want. Swaying, smiling, choreographed poses, the whole bit. Their singing is well-rehearsed, if not, well, hey they're old. They asked us to perform with them tonight in a barn. A semi-heated barn with a flame thrower. Well, it wasn't a flame thrower, but it kind of looked like one, it was this awesome old-fashioned space heater that spewed tiny licks of flames. And god bless it, as this was the most ungodly freezing, bitter night there ever was ever.
I had a pretty good time. Tomorrow is the last day of school before break, and guess how many total classes I plan on attending. I wouldn't even go if my mother wasn't making me. Oh well.
And now a special bonus:
Here's a list of everything I'm excited about right at this moment.
-Getting into (and getting a scholarship to) UArts
-Getting my new computer
-Poetry Out Loud, a national poetry recitation contest our English department is starting to prepare for (more on that later)
-Getting started on an electronic composition I'm making for an electronic composition competition (yah yah yah), which I just started writing the kick-ass main melody for today
That's about it. I'm definitely not excited about having to work over break, though I am very excited about spending more time with Rachel.
So long for now.
-Dr. M
I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, though it was very rushed. I enjoy making these kinds of collages, it is the one area of visual art I'm interested in seriously exploring, so expect more of this sometime.
The girl I gave it to seemed to like it. From the exchange I recieved two t-shirts, one that says "Tim Da Man" and another that says "Jus Be Cool" [sic] with my last name on the back. Possibly the most random, most awesome gifts I've ever received, I plan on wearing them often. I have no idea what the girl who gave them to me's original intentions were, maybe she was slightly inebriated at the time, but regardless they were the best things she could have given me. She asked my girlfriend when she was visiting about my favorite color, to which Rachel replied "earthy colors" (which is true), and somehow this girl took that to mean an awkward, faded lime-green color which couldn't possibly match anything in anybody's wardrobe. Only adding to the awesomeness.
Actually, on second thought, her card said she wanted to give me a gift "as cool and unique" as I am. These gifts sure are unique, but... seriously... "Tim Da Man"? I'm not sure what she's trying to say.
Anyway, today we had our last chamber choir performance in conjunction with these gals:
Sweet Adelines, Reading Pagoda chapter. I love these girls. They perform barbershop-style a capella numbers, looking just as perky and happy to still be alive as you could possibly want. Swaying, smiling, choreographed poses, the whole bit. Their singing is well-rehearsed, if not, well, hey they're old. They asked us to perform with them tonight in a barn. A semi-heated barn with a flame thrower. Well, it wasn't a flame thrower, but it kind of looked like one, it was this awesome old-fashioned space heater that spewed tiny licks of flames. And god bless it, as this was the most ungodly freezing, bitter night there ever was ever.
I had a pretty good time. Tomorrow is the last day of school before break, and guess how many total classes I plan on attending. I wouldn't even go if my mother wasn't making me. Oh well.
And now a special bonus:
Here's a list of everything I'm excited about right at this moment.
-Getting into (and getting a scholarship to) UArts
-Getting my new computer
-Poetry Out Loud, a national poetry recitation contest our English department is starting to prepare for (more on that later)
-Getting started on an electronic composition I'm making for an electronic composition competition (yah yah yah), which I just started writing the kick-ass main melody for today
That's about it. I'm definitely not excited about having to work over break, though I am very excited about spending more time with Rachel.
So long for now.
-Dr. M
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Two Scoops
In everybody's life, there are high points, and there are low points. And then there are points so unbelievably to one extreme or the other that they end up being really hard to describe.
Last night we finally resolved the issue of my computer, another credit card opened up and my parents were able to purchase it for me. The parts should be arriving in a few days, and then it will be assembled (by my brother), and then hopefully I'll have a new working computer with which to do... everything. I almost have a hard time believing it... my computer... in the mail... surreal, really. I'm very excited.
In other, I suppose more important news, we got a rather large envelope from the University of the Arts today that said not only am I excepted, but am being offered a $9,500 merit scholarship (per year) to go there.
Sure clears that up, doesn't it?! The next four years of my life seem to have suddenly opened up, the cloud of fog has thinned and I can see at least a little bit in front of me. Hopefully the scholarship means cash won't be a problem, and I can go there, succeed, learn my trade, and go on to be a career composer.
Keep tuning in to see how that all works out.
-Dr. M
Last night we finally resolved the issue of my computer, another credit card opened up and my parents were able to purchase it for me. The parts should be arriving in a few days, and then it will be assembled (by my brother), and then hopefully I'll have a new working computer with which to do... everything. I almost have a hard time believing it... my computer... in the mail... surreal, really. I'm very excited.
In other, I suppose more important news, we got a rather large envelope from the University of the Arts today that said not only am I excepted, but am being offered a $9,500 merit scholarship (per year) to go there.
Sure clears that up, doesn't it?! The next four years of my life seem to have suddenly opened up, the cloud of fog has thinned and I can see at least a little bit in front of me. Hopefully the scholarship means cash won't be a problem, and I can go there, succeed, learn my trade, and go on to be a career composer.
Keep tuning in to see how that all works out.
-Dr. M
Friday, December 19, 2008
Rachel's Home!!
So, Rachel came home yesterday, or actually two days ago. Yesterday was the first I saw her. We hung out in school, I didn't have a lot of classes to go to. I was thrilled to see her for the first time in two weeks, even though she said she was "disappointed in my appearance". She can't believe she's the only one who notices when I don't shave. Anyway, she seemed really excited to get caught up with all her old teachers. It was an awkward kind of day, trying to find places in school we could hang out, her talking to teachers while I just sort of stood there. Rachel puts on this whole other persona sometimes around people, especially people she likes whom she hasn't seen for a while. It's kind of like the point-smile-"How'ya doin'???" persona. I feel so weird being around her when she's like that. It's hard to describe... overly friendly, I guess. She's never reacted like that when seeing me, thank God. I think it may even be some kind of defense mechanism for her, for people she's almost but not quite comfortable around.
Anyway, I didn't get to see her today because of the freezing rain, and she was feeling a little sick to begin with. It was disappointing because I had the entire evening free (except that we'd have to have dinner at my house, it being my brother's birthday and all). Really, I'm just very relieved to have her here, and not at college. I'm a very jealous boyfriend, it's true. I get a little worked up at the thought of her being in that dorm... in such close quarters... around all those guys... I mean, duh her roommate's a girl, but they could at least have separated the floor into two sections by gender, not be totally random about it.
I'm sorry, I'm officially in rant-mode, you may want to skip this next paragraph.
I know in college kids are supposed to be so "enlightened" and everything... leave their parents' ways behind, forge a path of their own. That's why college doesn't exactly breed conservatism. But still, even in the enlightened, liberalized world of college, how realistic is it to have dorms so co-ed? The bathroom situation, I mean specifically. In the adult world, women and men don't go parading down the same hallways in nothing but their bath towels, it just doesn't happen. Seems to me like it's completely stripping you of your privacy, and in fact very unnatural. If college is supposed to be preparing you for adulthood, why not give you a taste of what adulthood is really like? Let every room have its own bathroom, and if practicality won't allow for it, why not allow normal gender separations to take place, as mandated by the rest of society? Fortunately, UArts dorms are suite-style, with every suite having its own kitchen and bathroom, and none of the individual suites are co-ed, so hopefully I'll never find myself in this situation. Not that I couldn't handle it, or I'd be too shy, or whatever, it's just something I find very irresponsible and just plain weird, on the part of the college, and I wouldn't want to be subjected to it. I'm really thinking more for the girls' sake than the guys'... you know men.
Anyway, now that that's out of the way. As I was saying, I am a pretty jealous boyfriend. She talked about a guy who's kind of her friend there in Philly, whose a couple doors down from her, and I couldn't help feeling a little jealous. It's not as if I think she's going to leave me and run off with him, it's just that hey, I'm the one who loves her, why is he the one who gets to spend all his time with her? Not that she's really spending that much time with him... ah well, I never said my feelings were rational. This is one of the many things I don't particularly like about myself, but at least I know that after this year I'll probably get to spend all sorts of time with her, and the year after that I may even have the privilege of calling her my house-mate (apartment-mate, whatever (also probably one of about three or four apartment-mates)).
So, as per my original point, I'm glad she's home. I love her very much and hope I get to spend all day with her tomorrow.
-Dr. M
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
To Sleep, Perchance to Oversleep
I wish I could do today and yesterday all over again. Yesterday I ended up staying up until four in the morning. Don't ask me why. As it turns out school had a two hour delay, as I'd hoped. I used that as my excuse to not wake up in the morning. When my eyelids finally fluttered open, it was four fifteen. In the afternoon. I was actually in danger of oversleeping, not for school, but for work. For my job which starts at five in the freaking evening. I don't know why I slept so late, I never have before. I normally don't need twelve hours of sleep to function. If I hadn't had work tonight, I probably would have just stayed in bed all day, said "Fuck the world, it can wait until tomorrow."
Sleep for some reason has been a constant struggle for me this year. It's never been quite as much a problem as it has in the last three months. I'm showing up late for school constantly, I can never get to bed when I want to. It's a habit that's proven pretty hard to break.
So December 17, 2008 basically didn't exist for me. It was wiped off the calendar of my brain. I'm going to try to make something of the night, though. There's a gift exchange in English class going on, I think (hope) next week. We have to make something, it can't be store bought, and I think I'm going to start that tonight. I'm actually pretty excited about it. I'll be sure to post a picture when it's done.
Good night.
-Dr. M
Sleep for some reason has been a constant struggle for me this year. It's never been quite as much a problem as it has in the last three months. I'm showing up late for school constantly, I can never get to bed when I want to. It's a habit that's proven pretty hard to break.
So December 17, 2008 basically didn't exist for me. It was wiped off the calendar of my brain. I'm going to try to make something of the night, though. There's a gift exchange in English class going on, I think (hope) next week. We have to make something, it can't be store bought, and I think I'm going to start that tonight. I'm actually pretty excited about it. I'll be sure to post a picture when it's done.
Good night.
-Dr. M
The Philadelphia Museum of Art
This post should be appearing under the sixteenth, but I haven't figured out how to change the time stamp, if it's even possible. Oh well.
Anyway, today (or yesterday, I suppose) I took a field trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art with my art class. I had very much been looking forward to the trip, as I hadn't been to an art museum in a long time, and I feel like I have a better appreciation for that kind of stuff now that I've learned a little about it. Also the fact that this is one of the premier art museums in the entire country, and (without getting into the existentialism of what art is really worth and why, etc) seeing millions and millions of dollars hanging on the wall right there in front of you is an experience in itself.
I made sure to take lots of pictures to document my journey. I'm certainly no art critic, but I took pictures of anything I just thought was interesting. Most of them are of sculpture, as I figured anybody can look up any painting they want on the web and get a better view of it than anything I can take with my camera phone, but every picture of sculpture is different and shows different qualities of the art, and so taking them felt a little more worthwhile.
I spent the longest amount of time in the first two wings I came to, which was European art from mostly the eighteenth and nineteenth century (I believe) and contemporary art. This statue was from the former. It was a sculpture of a young ballerina, from an artist who apparently really had a thing for ballerinas. I was told that he made many, many of these statues, nowadays all with different length skirts. The length of the skirt actually tells you how intact the piece is, as they would fray with the passage of time, and museum curators would trim them accordingly. Our girl here would appear to have lost a good bit of her skirt, unfortunately. I love the expression on her face, she's obviously very tired, but trying not to look it.
I love this piece. The artist who was commissioned to create this sculpture of a child was having a very difficult time of it, until he happened to catch a glimpse of the child peeking through a curtain. To him it appeared to be a "picture of purity", and served as the inspiration for this piece. It looks eroded, but I believe this is the way he created it, with just the hint of a face peeking beyond the blankness.
This is supposed to be a representation of thought. To me it looks like he started with that block and gave up on life after carving the head. Maybe the girl was really out of shape and only wanted her head carved. I really don't see how it portrays "thought". Maybe "brain fart", but not "thought". This is all still part of the European art wing, believe it or not. This piece looks very contemporary to me. I guess they had already started to experiment with traditional form when this piece was made, I think during the eighteen hundreds.
This is titled "Eve". It really makes you appreciate the story of creation better, I feel, whether one were to take it literally or figuratively. The look of utter shame and embarrassment, when there's nothing in her figure to be ashamed of. What could better illustrate the fall of mankind, in the presence of God himself?
I know the old European ideal for womanly beauty was quite different than ours today (they liked them plump and pale, i.e. rich). Call me whatever you like, but this is still the most beautiful feminine figure I think I've ever seen, and I'm not talking about as a work of art, I'm talking about as a woman I would like to have a long, steamy night with.
Now we're into contemporary art. This is one of my favorite paintings I saw while I was there. It's a Picasso, in his cubism phase. "Man with Violin" or something like that. I love the color pallet, and how the longer you stare it, the more you think you see.
This is indeed what it looks like: an iron with nails glued to it. Another one of those "I shit on a stick and it's art, because I said so. Don't try to argue with me, you uncultured barbarian." In all seriousness though, I really can appreciate art like this, it sure makes you think about things in a different way. Upon just looking at it, you feel a vague sense of frustration as you instinctively imagine trying to use the thing, ripping your favorite shirt to shreds in the process. With modern art it's very tempting to go with your instinct of "Geeze, anybody could do that!", but the truth is anybody in the whole world could pick up a paintbrush and learn to paint, or to sculpt or anything else, if they're willing to put in the time. Just because you may see this as "easier" doesn't mean it's worth any less.
I thought this was funny. And, though the piece itself may claim otherwise, I'm sure this is actually worth quite a few dollars.
This was probably the creepiest piece in the museum, especially since it was tucked away in the corner; I doubt if many even noticed it. Continuing from the last picture, as this is spray-painted right onto the gallery wall, is it really worth anything? It's not as if, after buying it, you could move it or do anything with it. I sure wish I knew the context of this piece, as its meaning or intention all but escapes me (unless the intention was to thoroughly creep me out, which may very well have been the case).
This is also one of my favorite paintings that I saw. There's a lot you can't really see in the picture, like the smaller figures of nude women hidden in the skirt of roots the lady is wearing (or growing or whatever). I decided this painting, being created by a lady, probably deals with the concept of aging. The woman is in a very vulnerable state clothing-wise, heightened by the look of despair on her face, along with the endless corridor of doors beside her, perhaps to represent the passage of time. She's obviously still attractive and full of vitality, yet in her face she's so withered and aged. I imagine the griffin-looking thing in the corner is a reoccurring theme in this artist's work.
This is a wooden door shrouded in darkness. If you go up and look through the two small holes in it, you see a brightly lit scene featuring a woman's naked body lying spread-eagle in a pile of hay, with a painted landscape behind it. I would have completely missed this had my art teacher not happened to be in the same gallery at the time. Fairly startling, anyway this was practically hidden all the way in the back of the wing, and I felt so special having found it, until a huge group of girls from some other school entered and started swarming around it. To make matters worse I kept going back and looking through it, as I was trying to get a sense of how big the scene was (pretty hard to do with the two holes like that, very limited depth perception), and I'm pretty sure they thought I was some kind of creepy perve. Oh well, story of my life.
This was an interesting piece, I assume dealing with commercialism and whatnot. There's a lot to it, a phone, some peaches, a bent snow shovel, a picture of Reagan as you can see (probably dealing with politics as well). This is the kind of piece that made you nervous walking around it, as presumably it was all just lying there, and you might accidentally bump it and knock something off. There isn't even any way of telling if the original artist would consider that ruining it or improving it.
This was the main entrance to the museum, which I saw after exiting the modern art wing (we entered through a back entrance). What you're seeing is a large metal mobile hanging from the ceiling. Apparently you can move it just by blowing hard at it, but I definitely couldn't do it (probably I wasn't blowing that hard because I was afraid one of the three bazillion security guards would yell at me).
This is the skyline, as seen from that same entrance hall. I liked the view of city hall which you can see fully in the distance, framed by the large pillars on either side.
This is one of the rooms of their collection of really old armory and weapons. I'd heard a lot about it, honestly I only found it vaguely interesting. They have those self-guided tour things with the ear pieces and the old man blathering at you, I'd probably have to do that in order to appreciate it a little more.
This is my own work of art, I call it "Untitled (Sleeping Guard in front of Large Window)".
This was another one of my favorite parts of the museum. It was a collection of artifacts from Europe and Asia from like the fifteen hundreds and before, and a lot of it was parts of buildings that had been moved and reconstructed inside the museum, like this Asian temple. I couldn't take as many pictures as I would have liked because most of it was very dark, but in retrospect I should have taken some pictures of those beautiful stain-glass windows (darn!). Anyway, most of it was simply breath-taking, the kind of thing you have to be there to really experience.
You can tell by the large entrance way behind this that this was extremely large. Speaking of that entrance way...
It is (or rather was) actually a giant window. Weird, huh?
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed it and look forward to going back (forward to going back... hm) sometime soon. Hopefully I'll have plenty of opportunity to do so while in college.
BTW, Mr. Urffer, if you're reading this, I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES! That is all.
I really have to go to bed! It is raining outside, hopefully it will ice and there will be a delay. If not, I'll be up again in four hours. I really should stop staying up so late. Oh well.
-Dr. M
Anyway, today (or yesterday, I suppose) I took a field trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art with my art class. I had very much been looking forward to the trip, as I hadn't been to an art museum in a long time, and I feel like I have a better appreciation for that kind of stuff now that I've learned a little about it. Also the fact that this is one of the premier art museums in the entire country, and (without getting into the existentialism of what art is really worth and why, etc) seeing millions and millions of dollars hanging on the wall right there in front of you is an experience in itself.
I made sure to take lots of pictures to document my journey. I'm certainly no art critic, but I took pictures of anything I just thought was interesting. Most of them are of sculpture, as I figured anybody can look up any painting they want on the web and get a better view of it than anything I can take with my camera phone, but every picture of sculpture is different and shows different qualities of the art, and so taking them felt a little more worthwhile.
I spent the longest amount of time in the first two wings I came to, which was European art from mostly the eighteenth and nineteenth century (I believe) and contemporary art. This statue was from the former. It was a sculpture of a young ballerina, from an artist who apparently really had a thing for ballerinas. I was told that he made many, many of these statues, nowadays all with different length skirts. The length of the skirt actually tells you how intact the piece is, as they would fray with the passage of time, and museum curators would trim them accordingly. Our girl here would appear to have lost a good bit of her skirt, unfortunately. I love the expression on her face, she's obviously very tired, but trying not to look it.
I love this piece. The artist who was commissioned to create this sculpture of a child was having a very difficult time of it, until he happened to catch a glimpse of the child peeking through a curtain. To him it appeared to be a "picture of purity", and served as the inspiration for this piece. It looks eroded, but I believe this is the way he created it, with just the hint of a face peeking beyond the blankness.
This is supposed to be a representation of thought. To me it looks like he started with that block and gave up on life after carving the head. Maybe the girl was really out of shape and only wanted her head carved. I really don't see how it portrays "thought". Maybe "brain fart", but not "thought". This is all still part of the European art wing, believe it or not. This piece looks very contemporary to me. I guess they had already started to experiment with traditional form when this piece was made, I think during the eighteen hundreds.
This is titled "Eve". It really makes you appreciate the story of creation better, I feel, whether one were to take it literally or figuratively. The look of utter shame and embarrassment, when there's nothing in her figure to be ashamed of. What could better illustrate the fall of mankind, in the presence of God himself?
I know the old European ideal for womanly beauty was quite different than ours today (they liked them plump and pale, i.e. rich). Call me whatever you like, but this is still the most beautiful feminine figure I think I've ever seen, and I'm not talking about as a work of art, I'm talking about as a woman I would like to have a long, steamy night with.
Now we're into contemporary art. This is one of my favorite paintings I saw while I was there. It's a Picasso, in his cubism phase. "Man with Violin" or something like that. I love the color pallet, and how the longer you stare it, the more you think you see.
This is indeed what it looks like: an iron with nails glued to it. Another one of those "I shit on a stick and it's art, because I said so. Don't try to argue with me, you uncultured barbarian." In all seriousness though, I really can appreciate art like this, it sure makes you think about things in a different way. Upon just looking at it, you feel a vague sense of frustration as you instinctively imagine trying to use the thing, ripping your favorite shirt to shreds in the process. With modern art it's very tempting to go with your instinct of "Geeze, anybody could do that!", but the truth is anybody in the whole world could pick up a paintbrush and learn to paint, or to sculpt or anything else, if they're willing to put in the time. Just because you may see this as "easier" doesn't mean it's worth any less.
I thought this was funny. And, though the piece itself may claim otherwise, I'm sure this is actually worth quite a few dollars.
This was probably the creepiest piece in the museum, especially since it was tucked away in the corner; I doubt if many even noticed it. Continuing from the last picture, as this is spray-painted right onto the gallery wall, is it really worth anything? It's not as if, after buying it, you could move it or do anything with it. I sure wish I knew the context of this piece, as its meaning or intention all but escapes me (unless the intention was to thoroughly creep me out, which may very well have been the case).
This is also one of my favorite paintings that I saw. There's a lot you can't really see in the picture, like the smaller figures of nude women hidden in the skirt of roots the lady is wearing (or growing or whatever). I decided this painting, being created by a lady, probably deals with the concept of aging. The woman is in a very vulnerable state clothing-wise, heightened by the look of despair on her face, along with the endless corridor of doors beside her, perhaps to represent the passage of time. She's obviously still attractive and full of vitality, yet in her face she's so withered and aged. I imagine the griffin-looking thing in the corner is a reoccurring theme in this artist's work.
This is a wooden door shrouded in darkness. If you go up and look through the two small holes in it, you see a brightly lit scene featuring a woman's naked body lying spread-eagle in a pile of hay, with a painted landscape behind it. I would have completely missed this had my art teacher not happened to be in the same gallery at the time. Fairly startling, anyway this was practically hidden all the way in the back of the wing, and I felt so special having found it, until a huge group of girls from some other school entered and started swarming around it. To make matters worse I kept going back and looking through it, as I was trying to get a sense of how big the scene was (pretty hard to do with the two holes like that, very limited depth perception), and I'm pretty sure they thought I was some kind of creepy perve. Oh well, story of my life.
This was an interesting piece, I assume dealing with commercialism and whatnot. There's a lot to it, a phone, some peaches, a bent snow shovel, a picture of Reagan as you can see (probably dealing with politics as well). This is the kind of piece that made you nervous walking around it, as presumably it was all just lying there, and you might accidentally bump it and knock something off. There isn't even any way of telling if the original artist would consider that ruining it or improving it.
This was the main entrance to the museum, which I saw after exiting the modern art wing (we entered through a back entrance). What you're seeing is a large metal mobile hanging from the ceiling. Apparently you can move it just by blowing hard at it, but I definitely couldn't do it (probably I wasn't blowing that hard because I was afraid one of the three bazillion security guards would yell at me).
This is the skyline, as seen from that same entrance hall. I liked the view of city hall which you can see fully in the distance, framed by the large pillars on either side.
This is one of the rooms of their collection of really old armory and weapons. I'd heard a lot about it, honestly I only found it vaguely interesting. They have those self-guided tour things with the ear pieces and the old man blathering at you, I'd probably have to do that in order to appreciate it a little more.
This is my own work of art, I call it "Untitled (Sleeping Guard in front of Large Window)".
This was another one of my favorite parts of the museum. It was a collection of artifacts from Europe and Asia from like the fifteen hundreds and before, and a lot of it was parts of buildings that had been moved and reconstructed inside the museum, like this Asian temple. I couldn't take as many pictures as I would have liked because most of it was very dark, but in retrospect I should have taken some pictures of those beautiful stain-glass windows (darn!). Anyway, most of it was simply breath-taking, the kind of thing you have to be there to really experience.
You can tell by the large entrance way behind this that this was extremely large. Speaking of that entrance way...
It is (or rather was) actually a giant window. Weird, huh?
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed it and look forward to going back (forward to going back... hm) sometime soon. Hopefully I'll have plenty of opportunity to do so while in college.
BTW, Mr. Urffer, if you're reading this, I WANT TO HAVE YOUR BABIES! That is all.
I really have to go to bed! It is raining outside, hopefully it will ice and there will be a delay. If not, I'll be up again in four hours. I really should stop staying up so late. Oh well.
-Dr. M
Monday, December 15, 2008
RHS Concert Choir
I look next to me and I see the program from yesterday's school concert sitting in the trash (or rather the recycling), where I suppose it belongs, both figuratively and literally. This was the annual holiday concert, which included performances by the chamber choir (a small group of selected students), the string orchestra and symphonic orchestra, and the full 120+ member concert choir.
This has been my primary activity since entering high school, the thing I care the most about, basically. I'm a choir nerd, through and through (and hope to be one in college as well). I'm passionate about vocal music, I simply love how much it can convey both through music and words and how it can span cultures and generations. It's a shame that for the most part, you will only ever find it in an educational context, nobody pays to see professional choir concerts.
Anyway, suffice to say this last concert yesterday wasn't really worth anything beyond whatever seems to compel us to have one every year, no matter how unprepared we are. I guess there's no point in having a choir if it doesn't perform, but still. Murdering a mundane setting of some Spanish Christmas carol or the music of the Nutcracker set to the words of Jingle Bells is one thing, murdering Mendelssohn's He Watching Over Israel is quite another, and I can't see why such an unfortunate circumstance should feel so obligated to manifest itself year after bloody year.
Not that it's the students' fault. Well, I guess that's a little hard to believe when you picture our typical morning rehearsal, various altos and sopranos standing there, their arms crossed, hips cocked to one side, lips just barely moving along to the music, as if somebody forced them here with a gun to their back. But we have enough students who at least look like they want to be in choir that I feel safe saying we have the potential to be a quality ensemble. Overall it's the level of directing that's been lacking this semester.
Not that it's entirely our director's fault, either. Our entire music program has been completely upended this year. The new choir director, Mr. Smith, filled in two years ago last-minute for our old choir director, Mr. Kazmierczak, when he went on a year-long sabbatical. Mr. K returned for last year, but then permanently retired (toFlorida
Mr. Smith recorded the concert and perhaps I will share selections from it with you all once I have a copy of it. I'd like to start including some media into this blog, pictures, audio, video, to keep it interesting.
This has been my primary activity since entering high school, the thing I care the most about, basically. I'm a choir nerd, through and through (and hope to be one in college as well). I'm passionate about vocal music, I simply love how much it can convey both through music and words and how it can span cultures and generations. It's a shame that for the most part, you will only ever find it in an educational context, nobody pays to see professional choir concerts.
Anyway, suffice to say this last concert yesterday wasn't really worth anything beyond whatever seems to compel us to have one every year, no matter how unprepared we are. I guess there's no point in having a choir if it doesn't perform, but still. Murdering a mundane setting of some Spanish Christmas carol or the music of the Nutcracker set to the words of Jingle Bells is one thing, murdering Mendelssohn's He Watching Over Israel is quite another, and I can't see why such an unfortunate circumstance should feel so obligated to manifest itself year after bloody year.
Not that it's the students' fault. Well, I guess that's a little hard to believe when you picture our typical morning rehearsal, various altos and sopranos standing there, their arms crossed, hips cocked to one side, lips just barely moving along to the music, as if somebody forced them here with a gun to their back. But we have enough students who at least look like they want to be in choir that I feel safe saying we have the potential to be a quality ensemble. Overall it's the level of directing that's been lacking this semester.
Not that it's entirely our director's fault, either. Our entire music program has been completely upended this year. The new choir director, Mr. Smith, filled in two years ago last-minute for our old choir director, Mr. Kazmierczak, when he went on a year-long sabbatical. Mr. K returned for last year, but then permanently retired (to
This change in the choir staff just so happened to coincide with the firing of the assistant band director for being a slut and enjoying her students’ cocks a little too much and the primary band director leaving us for one of the middle schools. The only music staff member from my freshman year who remains of the four is the orchestra director, unfortunately (what a dick). He’s also I believe twenty-nine, making him the oldest member of the music staff as well.
So in short, our choir stinks and it’s nobody’s fault. This is the program that largely inspired me to become a composer, and taught me most of what I know about voice leading and harmonization. It’s a shame to see it slide so far down in quality. Hopefully, with a few more years Mr. Smith will either leave or become more adapt at getting a better sound from his students. This is hard when the first time half of them sing is at the holiday concert itself, but getting students to cooperate is part of the job description for being a teacher, last I checked.
But I can only be so hard on Mr. Smith. Like I said, he’s a great guy, I have a lot of respect for him. He got his teaching certification in band directing when he attended
Anyways, sad about the choir, happy for me since I’M A SENIOR, BITCH!!! SO LONG SUCKAZZZ!!!!!!!!!
Mr. Smith recorded the concert and perhaps I will share selections from it with you all once I have a copy of it. I'd like to start including some media into this blog, pictures, audio, video, to keep it interesting.
Tomorrow I’m going on an art field trip with my art class and my sexy as hell art teacher, which I will undoubtedly blog about tomorrow.
-Dr. M
Sunday, December 14, 2008
A response to my first post, a more proper beginning
I thought, since at least four people read that first post, I'd go ahead and talk a little about what's actually happened since then, so you're not all wondering.
The first two paragraphs talked about prom. Prom came and went, the dance floor was unbelievable crowded, there was barf in the men's bathroom, some people at our table never even got their food, and the most fun we had was hanging out with the student tv crew who was there to tape the event. Go figure.
The next paragraph talked about my girlfriend. Me and Rachel are still very much in love, perhaps more than ever, despite her going to college in Philadelphia, an hour and a half away. We haven't gone a day without speaking to each other and I've been able to see her pretty often. She's coming home next week, which I am very excited about.
Next two paragraphs talked about school. Yeah.
Then I talked about college. My top choice right now is University of the Arts, in Philly. I've already auditioned and I'm almost sure I'm in. The problem will be paying for it. This almost makes me sick thinking about it, so I won't. Assuming I can pay for it then the plan is to be in college and get as much experience composing as possible, then go and write music for a living. To infinity and beyond.
Then I talked about writing music, which I've done quite a bit of since. I don't think I'm going to press to have any of my pieces performed by the school ensembles, my writing isn't good enough, and neither are the school ensembles.
Then came my own personal renaissance. Let's just say I'm still in my own personal dark ages. I try to read when I can, I enjoy listening to music, but I'm no more or less a zombie then I was six months ago.
The next paragraph was about sinning and how not to. Still haven't quite nailed that down.
And that was it. Hopefully you all can feel a sense of resolution now, and we can move forward.
The first two paragraphs talked about prom. Prom came and went, the dance floor was unbelievable crowded, there was barf in the men's bathroom, some people at our table never even got their food, and the most fun we had was hanging out with the student tv crew who was there to tape the event. Go figure.
The next paragraph talked about my girlfriend. Me and Rachel are still very much in love, perhaps more than ever, despite her going to college in Philadelphia, an hour and a half away. We haven't gone a day without speaking to each other and I've been able to see her pretty often. She's coming home next week, which I am very excited about.
Next two paragraphs talked about school. Yeah.
Then I talked about college. My top choice right now is University of the Arts, in Philly. I've already auditioned and I'm almost sure I'm in. The problem will be paying for it. This almost makes me sick thinking about it, so I won't. Assuming I can pay for it then the plan is to be in college and get as much experience composing as possible, then go and write music for a living. To infinity and beyond.
Then I talked about writing music, which I've done quite a bit of since. I don't think I'm going to press to have any of my pieces performed by the school ensembles, my writing isn't good enough, and neither are the school ensembles.
Then came my own personal renaissance. Let's just say I'm still in my own personal dark ages. I try to read when I can, I enjoy listening to music, but I'm no more or less a zombie then I was six months ago.
The next paragraph was about sinning and how not to. Still haven't quite nailed that down.
And that was it. Hopefully you all can feel a sense of resolution now, and we can move forward.
This blog actually exists now (a.k.a the saga of my eighteenth birthday)
I don't know if anybody is going to read this, I didn't even know there were any comments made on that first post. I'm very appreciative of everyone who took the time to read it, it means a lot to me.
Anyway, I really want to have a blog, for real this time. I tried thinking up some catchy concepts or something of actual substance, but couldn't find anything I was actually motivated to take the time to do. So instead this will just be an online diary, like the first post, where I'm going to write about anything and everything pertaining to my life. And I really mean "pertaining to my life", I have no interest in boring you about my philosophical views on education or the government (bleck!).
So, how about a little catch-up? Since last spring when I made my last post a series of events important but completely expected took place. The summer came and went all too quickly, with me spending an entire month at a college prep program where quite literally nothing happened (though I did meet and re-meet some very great people). Senior year started, my girlfriend left for college, I started the college application process, and then I decided to start a blog.
Obviously leaving out a few details, that's where I am right now. I don't like writing about old news, so I'll try keeping it current.
Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday. What a more appropriate time to start blogging, no? It was spent with my brother Dan who is living at home and attending a small near-by university, my mother, and my father. We ended up decorating the house for Christmas, and ordering take-out from Red Lobster.
But something else happened yesterday, something I have very mixed feelings about. Lately I have been wanting a new computer. Really, more needing than wanting. I need it for recording music (my passion, what I want to go to college for), as the first generation mac mini I'm using can't run the programs I need, or do anything else I want to do. It's like a painter wanting an actual canvas since he's tired of painting on notebook paper.
That makes me sound so full of myself. Oh well.
It's funny, the more I try to explain about this, the more of the story I'm forced to tell, in order for you to get the context of it. Try to bear with me. I got a job at CVS back in August, for the sole purpose of purchasing this computer. My parents both work low-paying entry-level jobs and have a hard time making ends meet as it is, I couldn't ask them to make such an expensive purchase. Since I wasn't eighteen, I couldn't get a bank account in my name so all my money just went into my parents' account. This should spell "trouble" to any reasoning person. I had various expenses since getting the job, I got a new cell phone, payments on a trip to Florida the chorus is taking in the spring, plus the four hundred dollars my mother claims I owe her for the text books I used (or rather didn't use) when I was home-schooled in eighth grade. It was never really made clear whose money they were spending for all that, theirs or mine.
If they were using my money to pay all that with, then I basically will never see any of the money I made in my first three months of employment. Frustrating? Maybe a little, especially with this new computer on the line. But the light was waiting for me there at the end of the tunnel... my eighteenth birthday... surely then my parents will be willing to put the money down for my new computer, surely then all will be made right. I'll even be able to open my own bank account and the confusion will be over.
So my birthday arrived. To keep a short story short, the evening came, my mother handed me and my brother her credit card before going to bed (she works third shift, at a chocolate factory, and has to have a nap before going in). My brother picked out all the parts for it (we're assembling it ourselves) at newegg.com, we typed in the credit card number, and placed the order.
The credit card was denied.
This wasn't wholly unexpected, my parents aren't in the best situation credit-wise. We had a run of bad luck in the past few years, my father spent three years teaching at a private school for the least amount of money he had ever made before being fired, my mother never really had any kind of career and usually just worked factory jobs, so we were living on credit and now it's all come crashing down.
My parents are hard-working, intelligent, educated people. The problem was they were both music majors, my father got his masters from seminary (pastor school), neither was set up for a particularly profitable career (or any at all). We've done the best we can, and I have all the love in the world for them. This has just been a very rough season.
I'm angry the credit card was denied. This means waiting even longer for a computer I expected to have months ago. It feels like a deserve a computer, I got a job for it, I've been working for it. It feels like all my money has been taken from me and it still wasn't good enough.
I'm also relieved the credit card was denied. This is the same card that's kept us in debt for so long, the last thing we need to do is keep spending with it and drive us deeper into debt.
I feel guilty for being so angry when my parents have worked so hard. My mother works third shift at a chocolate factory, for crying out loud, I can't really complain about anything.
I don't really know how to feel, I'm also not sure if I'm really getting my point across here. I'm kind of the screw-up kid, the consistent underachiever whose natural aptitude for music (something my parents are responsible for) is the only thing getting me into college (if I can even pay for it). But for some reason I just can't help but feel "entitled" to things, things I don't really deserve. I feel like everybody else in the whole world is better off than my family. But I also know that's of course far from the truth.
I just wish things were better, I guess.
But things aren't that bad. I'm just having one of those days where it seems that way, I guess. The resolution is I am indeed going to be opening my own bank account, I'm going to know which money is mine and which is my parents', and sooner or later I'll have enough saved up for that god damn computer.
-Dr. M
Anyway, I really want to have a blog, for real this time. I tried thinking up some catchy concepts or something of actual substance, but couldn't find anything I was actually motivated to take the time to do. So instead this will just be an online diary, like the first post, where I'm going to write about anything and everything pertaining to my life. And I really mean "pertaining to my life", I have no interest in boring you about my philosophical views on education or the government (bleck!).
So, how about a little catch-up? Since last spring when I made my last post a series of events important but completely expected took place. The summer came and went all too quickly, with me spending an entire month at a college prep program where quite literally nothing happened (though I did meet and re-meet some very great people). Senior year started, my girlfriend left for college, I started the college application process, and then I decided to start a blog.
Obviously leaving out a few details, that's where I am right now. I don't like writing about old news, so I'll try keeping it current.
Yesterday was my eighteenth birthday. What a more appropriate time to start blogging, no? It was spent with my brother Dan who is living at home and attending a small near-by university, my mother, and my father. We ended up decorating the house for Christmas, and ordering take-out from Red Lobster.
But something else happened yesterday, something I have very mixed feelings about. Lately I have been wanting a new computer. Really, more needing than wanting. I need it for recording music (my passion, what I want to go to college for), as the first generation mac mini I'm using can't run the programs I need, or do anything else I want to do. It's like a painter wanting an actual canvas since he's tired of painting on notebook paper.
That makes me sound so full of myself. Oh well.
It's funny, the more I try to explain about this, the more of the story I'm forced to tell, in order for you to get the context of it. Try to bear with me. I got a job at CVS back in August, for the sole purpose of purchasing this computer. My parents both work low-paying entry-level jobs and have a hard time making ends meet as it is, I couldn't ask them to make such an expensive purchase. Since I wasn't eighteen, I couldn't get a bank account in my name so all my money just went into my parents' account. This should spell "trouble" to any reasoning person. I had various expenses since getting the job, I got a new cell phone, payments on a trip to Florida the chorus is taking in the spring, plus the four hundred dollars my mother claims I owe her for the text books I used (or rather didn't use) when I was home-schooled in eighth grade. It was never really made clear whose money they were spending for all that, theirs or mine.
If they were using my money to pay all that with, then I basically will never see any of the money I made in my first three months of employment. Frustrating? Maybe a little, especially with this new computer on the line. But the light was waiting for me there at the end of the tunnel... my eighteenth birthday... surely then my parents will be willing to put the money down for my new computer, surely then all will be made right. I'll even be able to open my own bank account and the confusion will be over.
So my birthday arrived. To keep a short story short, the evening came, my mother handed me and my brother her credit card before going to bed (she works third shift, at a chocolate factory, and has to have a nap before going in). My brother picked out all the parts for it (we're assembling it ourselves) at newegg.com, we typed in the credit card number, and placed the order.
The credit card was denied.
This wasn't wholly unexpected, my parents aren't in the best situation credit-wise. We had a run of bad luck in the past few years, my father spent three years teaching at a private school for the least amount of money he had ever made before being fired, my mother never really had any kind of career and usually just worked factory jobs, so we were living on credit and now it's all come crashing down.
My parents are hard-working, intelligent, educated people. The problem was they were both music majors, my father got his masters from seminary (pastor school), neither was set up for a particularly profitable career (or any at all). We've done the best we can, and I have all the love in the world for them. This has just been a very rough season.
I'm angry the credit card was denied. This means waiting even longer for a computer I expected to have months ago. It feels like a deserve a computer, I got a job for it, I've been working for it. It feels like all my money has been taken from me and it still wasn't good enough.
I'm also relieved the credit card was denied. This is the same card that's kept us in debt for so long, the last thing we need to do is keep spending with it and drive us deeper into debt.
I feel guilty for being so angry when my parents have worked so hard. My mother works third shift at a chocolate factory, for crying out loud, I can't really complain about anything.
I don't really know how to feel, I'm also not sure if I'm really getting my point across here. I'm kind of the screw-up kid, the consistent underachiever whose natural aptitude for music (something my parents are responsible for) is the only thing getting me into college (if I can even pay for it). But for some reason I just can't help but feel "entitled" to things, things I don't really deserve. I feel like everybody else in the whole world is better off than my family. But I also know that's of course far from the truth.
I just wish things were better, I guess.
But things aren't that bad. I'm just having one of those days where it seems that way, I guess. The resolution is I am indeed going to be opening my own bank account, I'm going to know which money is mine and which is my parents', and sooner or later I'll have enough saved up for that god damn computer.
-Dr. M
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
5/6/08
A tuxedo.
Tomorrow I go with my mother to pick up the tuxedo I'm wearing for prom, which is this Friday. I can hardly believe it's so close already. Everything is ready, my girlfriend has a dress and make-up, the flowers are ordered, our homeroom teacher is giving us a ride in her fancy convertible. My mother insisted that we pay for her prom ticket, and the cost of the two tickets was $140. That's pretty outrageous, isn't it. Apparently this mass-produced food that tastes like freeze-dried poop is costing thirty dollars a plate alone.
I'm only a junior, but my girlfriend is a senior, so I'm taking her to the prom this year. Hopefully this means I won't have to go next year. But I'm thinking that if I get enough energetic and charismatic people to help me I'm going to try to organize a student-led prom that the school doesn't sponsor, just because the price is so unbelievable. We'll get our own facility, decorations, maybe even have a pot-luck style dinner where people bring in home-made dishes. So if that ever gets off the ground I suppose I'd have to go.
My girlfriend, as I said, is a senior. She's graduating this year. She's valedictorian, going to make a big speech at graduation (which I'll be attending because choir is singing for it). We've been dating for almost two years, but it feels like a lifetime. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself once she leaves. She wants us to remain friends with the possibility of a relationship, but not be exclusive, which means she might date other people. I'm okay with this, it's only natural after all. But it will still be very hard, her leaving. I only came to terms with the fact recently that I really do need her, that leaving each other will be hard. Before I always told myself whatever happened happened, that I would move on with no great struggle. Not the first time I've lied to myself.
I'm glad prom is going to be over, it will be one less thing to worry about. I've had a lot to worry about this semester. Since January I've participated in four different chorus festivals, County chorus, District chorus, Regional chorus and finally the all-state festival (each successive festival more selective than the last). I've missed school for each of them. Add on school show, the school chorus competition in Virginia, the language class trip to New York, and the physics day at Hershey Park, and the various absences I've had just because I didn't think I could drag myself to school, and lately I've almost been out of class more than I've been in.
This isn't a very intelligent thing to have happen the second semester your junior year, as I've been told your grades in eleventh grade are the only ones that matter. I'm currently failing trigonometry this quarter. I managed to pass first and third quarter, so I have to pass the final to pass the course, and if I don't pass the course I'll have to take a math in my senior year, which I really don't want to do. I want my classes next year to focus on music -the only thing I really care about besides my girlfriend and, you know, God and stuff.
I want to go to college for music, if I get into college at all. I've gone over this in my head so many times and written it down in various places so that I'm a little sick of it, but here it is, one final time, my struggle with what I'm going to do in college:
They say college is where you go to learn whatever it is you're going to be doing for the rest of your life (ideally). My brother went to school to be a librarian, he's now a librarian. I want to be a musician, so naturally I should go to school for music. My father says college isn't cheap and whatever you're learning there better darn well prepare you for whatever it is that will be earning your salary, or you've blown a whole pile of dough and you're no better off than you were before. If I spend my college education on music, I have to try and make it as a musician. But a job in the music industry is the farthest thing there is from a "sure-fire plan". What if I go to college for music like my parents did and end up changing jobs every three years and living from paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life? The smart thing to do seems to be majoring in something profitable and minoring in music. But music is my passion, my drive, it's the only thing I want to do. It seems like there must be something you can do with a music degree (music composition, specifically) that will be sure to bring you a paycheck every week. Maybe even with a good dental plan.
I wouldn't mind living on breadcrumbs for the sake of my art, but the question is would I ever be able to move out of my parents' house. I couldn't handle living in my parents' basement for the next ten years. So do I go to college for a career I don't want or for music which won't give me a career?
And this is all assuming I get into college in the first place, which with my grades is just about as far from a sure-fire plan as making a living as a musician.
There. I wrote it all down, it's done, I can move on. I'm not worrying about college yet. I still have a few months left of blissful unawareness, and I'm going to savor every second of them.
In the meantime, it's clear what I have to do. Write music, write music, write music. If this is going to be my career I might as well get used to producing heaping helpings of music just below my quality standards at impossibly high speeds for projects I only barely care about. My chorus teacher is retiring after this year, which might explain why after I handed him a finished piece of music he basically ignored it (except for the occasional "hey, we should look at that sometime"). The orchestra teacher, on the other hand, had the most opposite reaction he could've had. Here's my chorus teacher, I've had him for years, I am the only student of his to ever make all-state choir, and I hand him a finished, computer-typed choral arrangement, and several months later he's just barely glanced at it. Here's the orchestra teacher, I've never been in his class, I know nothing about string instruments, and I in passing mention to him that I'm thinking of writing a string quartet, and immediately he tells me to bring it to him once I have something written (not even finished) and he'll record each part on a layer tape for me so I can hear what it sounds like on real instruments, and if it's good he'll have the school string quartet perform it. So... I guess this means I'd better write it.
This summer, after I take the dreaded SATs, shouldn't be too bad. I'm undergoing a personal renaissance of sorts. Basically, I've realized that for the past few years I've been "dead", being a lackluster student and wasting all my time on the internet. So starting now I'm going to try as hard as I can to "live" as much as possible, to do as much as I can, to learn as much as I can. I'm going to read books, finish one in three days and start another right away. I'm going to learn the piano. What kind of music student can't play the piano! I'm going to write and record as much music as I can. I'm going to listen to every band and musician of whom I've ever thought "Hm, I should check them out sometime." I'm trying to expand my mind, and hopefully, if I fill in these gaps with constructive pursuits it will help me with some of the vices that have brought down my spiritual life.
I have a theory; not sinning isn't hard so long as you keep busy. There are little sins I commit in my every day life, little attitude problems and other things I ask the Lord to help me keep in check, but all the big sins, the ones that keep me up at night, happen when I'm bored and wasting time. So if I keep myself busy, I shouldn't be too bad off.
That's all I can think of to write for now, kudos if you (whoever you are) have actually managed to read the entire thing. Don't expect posts here very often, maybe once a month at the most, unless I'm hit with a sudden inspiration. My life doesn't change very fast, many of the things I've written about here were true months ago.
In summary:
I shouldn't be too bad off.
-Dr. Benedict Madrigal,
aka Timothy Gordon,
aka Timothy Neher
Tomorrow I go with my mother to pick up the tuxedo I'm wearing for prom, which is this Friday. I can hardly believe it's so close already. Everything is ready, my girlfriend has a dress and make-up, the flowers are ordered, our homeroom teacher is giving us a ride in her fancy convertible. My mother insisted that we pay for her prom ticket, and the cost of the two tickets was $140. That's pretty outrageous, isn't it. Apparently this mass-produced food that tastes like freeze-dried poop is costing thirty dollars a plate alone.
I'm only a junior, but my girlfriend is a senior, so I'm taking her to the prom this year. Hopefully this means I won't have to go next year. But I'm thinking that if I get enough energetic and charismatic people to help me I'm going to try to organize a student-led prom that the school doesn't sponsor, just because the price is so unbelievable. We'll get our own facility, decorations, maybe even have a pot-luck style dinner where people bring in home-made dishes. So if that ever gets off the ground I suppose I'd have to go.
My girlfriend, as I said, is a senior. She's graduating this year. She's valedictorian, going to make a big speech at graduation (which I'll be attending because choir is singing for it). We've been dating for almost two years, but it feels like a lifetime. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself once she leaves. She wants us to remain friends with the possibility of a relationship, but not be exclusive, which means she might date other people. I'm okay with this, it's only natural after all. But it will still be very hard, her leaving. I only came to terms with the fact recently that I really do need her, that leaving each other will be hard. Before I always told myself whatever happened happened, that I would move on with no great struggle. Not the first time I've lied to myself.
I'm glad prom is going to be over, it will be one less thing to worry about. I've had a lot to worry about this semester. Since January I've participated in four different chorus festivals, County chorus, District chorus, Regional chorus and finally the all-state festival (each successive festival more selective than the last). I've missed school for each of them. Add on school show, the school chorus competition in Virginia, the language class trip to New York, and the physics day at Hershey Park, and the various absences I've had just because I didn't think I could drag myself to school, and lately I've almost been out of class more than I've been in.
This isn't a very intelligent thing to have happen the second semester your junior year, as I've been told your grades in eleventh grade are the only ones that matter. I'm currently failing trigonometry this quarter. I managed to pass first and third quarter, so I have to pass the final to pass the course, and if I don't pass the course I'll have to take a math in my senior year, which I really don't want to do. I want my classes next year to focus on music -the only thing I really care about besides my girlfriend and, you know, God and stuff.
I want to go to college for music, if I get into college at all. I've gone over this in my head so many times and written it down in various places so that I'm a little sick of it, but here it is, one final time, my struggle with what I'm going to do in college:
They say college is where you go to learn whatever it is you're going to be doing for the rest of your life (ideally). My brother went to school to be a librarian, he's now a librarian. I want to be a musician, so naturally I should go to school for music. My father says college isn't cheap and whatever you're learning there better darn well prepare you for whatever it is that will be earning your salary, or you've blown a whole pile of dough and you're no better off than you were before. If I spend my college education on music, I have to try and make it as a musician. But a job in the music industry is the farthest thing there is from a "sure-fire plan". What if I go to college for music like my parents did and end up changing jobs every three years and living from paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life? The smart thing to do seems to be majoring in something profitable and minoring in music. But music is my passion, my drive, it's the only thing I want to do. It seems like there must be something you can do with a music degree (music composition, specifically) that will be sure to bring you a paycheck every week. Maybe even with a good dental plan.
I wouldn't mind living on breadcrumbs for the sake of my art, but the question is would I ever be able to move out of my parents' house. I couldn't handle living in my parents' basement for the next ten years. So do I go to college for a career I don't want or for music which won't give me a career?
And this is all assuming I get into college in the first place, which with my grades is just about as far from a sure-fire plan as making a living as a musician.
There. I wrote it all down, it's done, I can move on. I'm not worrying about college yet. I still have a few months left of blissful unawareness, and I'm going to savor every second of them.
In the meantime, it's clear what I have to do. Write music, write music, write music. If this is going to be my career I might as well get used to producing heaping helpings of music just below my quality standards at impossibly high speeds for projects I only barely care about. My chorus teacher is retiring after this year, which might explain why after I handed him a finished piece of music he basically ignored it (except for the occasional "hey, we should look at that sometime"). The orchestra teacher, on the other hand, had the most opposite reaction he could've had. Here's my chorus teacher, I've had him for years, I am the only student of his to ever make all-state choir, and I hand him a finished, computer-typed choral arrangement, and several months later he's just barely glanced at it. Here's the orchestra teacher, I've never been in his class, I know nothing about string instruments, and I in passing mention to him that I'm thinking of writing a string quartet, and immediately he tells me to bring it to him once I have something written (not even finished) and he'll record each part on a layer tape for me so I can hear what it sounds like on real instruments, and if it's good he'll have the school string quartet perform it. So... I guess this means I'd better write it.
This summer, after I take the dreaded SATs, shouldn't be too bad. I'm undergoing a personal renaissance of sorts. Basically, I've realized that for the past few years I've been "dead", being a lackluster student and wasting all my time on the internet. So starting now I'm going to try as hard as I can to "live" as much as possible, to do as much as I can, to learn as much as I can. I'm going to read books, finish one in three days and start another right away. I'm going to learn the piano. What kind of music student can't play the piano! I'm going to write and record as much music as I can. I'm going to listen to every band and musician of whom I've ever thought "Hm, I should check them out sometime." I'm trying to expand my mind, and hopefully, if I fill in these gaps with constructive pursuits it will help me with some of the vices that have brought down my spiritual life.
I have a theory; not sinning isn't hard so long as you keep busy. There are little sins I commit in my every day life, little attitude problems and other things I ask the Lord to help me keep in check, but all the big sins, the ones that keep me up at night, happen when I'm bored and wasting time. So if I keep myself busy, I shouldn't be too bad off.
That's all I can think of to write for now, kudos if you (whoever you are) have actually managed to read the entire thing. Don't expect posts here very often, maybe once a month at the most, unless I'm hit with a sudden inspiration. My life doesn't change very fast, many of the things I've written about here were true months ago.
In summary:
I shouldn't be too bad off.
-Dr. Benedict Madrigal,
aka Timothy Gordon,
aka Timothy Neher
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