It's becoming more and more obvious to me that writing on this site everyday is impossible. Not impossible in the sense that it can't be done; I can commit to writing several words a day. Whether or not they are actually intelligible, English words is another matter. I'm pretty sure I could write a paragraph everyday if it consisted of random onomatopoeia I just made up.
I've spent the past few days being fascinated by my umbrella. Everytime I open it I feel like something more cataclysmic should happen -- something more dramatic. I always feel like the umbrella, rushing open in a precise, airy flutter of plastic, should produce a draft of wind that would propel me several feet up into the air. Like Mary Poppins, except cooler and without the dress. Instead, though, I open the umbrella and I get an open umbrella. My complaint: The lack of magic in my day is anticlimatic. The News Archive | Email
Today, I took my momma to the MoMA. The Museum of Modern Art is free on Fridays in the afternoon, and, because of that, it was packed. It took us forty minutes to get in; that's when my mom and I realized there were displays dedicated to Apple Computers and Apple designs of audio speakers and subwoofers. Then an array of couches that made me feel like I was walking through Mobilia or some furniture store. I began to think that crass commercialism was all that's left of art.
But there were cool things there; thought-provoking. I say that when I have no idea what's going on but I want to pretend like I have an ounce of culture. I liked the one with a mirrored display of mirrored glass-blown bottles, and a two-way mirror to see into the kaleidoscope of infinite reflections. I was going to remember the artist's name and mention it, but I have enough trouble memorizing my Bach. The News Archive | Email
Nothing interesting happened today. I went with my mom to see the NYPhil rehearse this morning, I went to school for an orchestra rehearsal, practised half an hour, had soup for lunch (tomato bisque), my mom and I met with Robin for dinner, and then we went to a concert at Carnegie Hall. What I mean is that this was all very interesting for me, it just doesn't make it interesting in general.
At the concert tonight, though, Robin had second row seats. As I was able to see the performers' facial expressions very clearly, I can happily state that there are people in the world that do weirder stuff than me when they play.
So no more laughing at me. I've gotten emails today from complete strangers that consisted only of "HAHAHAHAHA" in the subject title and "HAHAHAAH" in the actual message. The News Archive | Email
Today, before going to work, I saw a baby on the train. Whenever a baby comes across something, the first thing they're thinking is whether or not they can eat it. I spent Christmas like that once. Anyway, this baby was eating a plastic toy at the time when he saw the metal pole; a pole smeared with greasy, finger-printed, germ-infested ick. The baby starts sucking on it and the mother doesn't notice. I had seen this before, so I decided to tell the lady. "Excuse me. Your baby is sucking on the pole." You know, something straight to the point. And she looks at me, "So?"
I just stood there a second; then I said something nerdy like I was just trying to help. But I was thinking, "Oh, I don't know, are you sucking on the pole? Why isn't anyone else sucking on the pole? Is it because it's gross?" I mean, what was she thinking? Does her kid need protein? Is this remotely normal? The News Archive | Email
I'm going to attempt to update this page everyday this week.
Today, my mom and I were walking around Times Square. Last year, a guy at the corner of 46th and Broadway came up telling me that he had well-priced tickets to see Lion King. Thinking that it was one of those guys, I went up to him with my mom and asked, "Hey, what do you got for me?" I wanted to show my mom my new city suave. The guy looked awkwardly at my mom and then flashed me a postcard of his 'business', which had much to do with naked women holding a special affinity with brass. Although I usually don't pass up the opportunity to look like a sexually-crazed pervert in front of my mom and the general public, I decided on saying an embarassed "Uh, no thanks."
People have complained as of late that I don't update enough. My mom just told me that I need to post more; she said it in this way where I didn't know if it was an order or a motherly suggestion. But, just in case, I'm going to hit the keyboard anyway. My problem is that when things get moving in other areas of my life, I can't really find the time or motivation to write. It's pretty safe to say that activity on this site works proportionally against how much I have going on elsewhere.
I've decided to dedicate this post to the exercise of typing many words while saying as little as possible. Thanks to the well-wishers for yesterday's solo recital. It was a lot of fun and I was touched by all who came. Some of my friends took some pictures of me while I was performing. This always gives everyone a good laugh because I look constipated. I will post these on the Irrefragable page sometime. The News Archive | Email
Solo Recital: Sunday, March 20, 2005 at 1:30 p.m.; 85th between Amsterdam and Columbus, in the Mannes Concert Hall. Works by Bach, Carter, Pan, and Piazzolla; premiere of Huck Hodge's "... como un respiro" for solo cello and eleven strings. Free admission.It's a shame that I'm posting this event now, seeing that the site gets the fewest visitors on the weekend and the bulk of you will read this on Monday. But it's been a string of rehearsals since I got back from the west coast and I didn't have time to put up ads at school for my recital. So I figure I will do the next best thing and announce it to a base of people who live nowhere near New York.
I guess I'll plug the concert once more, on the basis that one of you will book a plane ticket if I mention that the program includes collaborative dance with Bach and a pipa-cello-piano trio. The News ArchiveEmail
San Francisco's weather was incredible. I stayed with Dave and Yuri, both of whom told me that the weather's normally mild; even in the summer, it's refreshingly cool. This strikes me as totally unfair.
In other news, a heart-felt congratulations to epideMIC, the other half of my rap group Blunt Ethiks, who has been taken on for clerkship in the Supreme Court of Canada. Ep will be working for highly respected judges, who, incidentally, decide to take advantage of this esteem by dressing as ridiculously close to Santa Claus as possible.
I find it heartening to know that we can all be judges if we apply to our local malls around December.
Today, I went to buy some groceries; I also bought four glasses of Stewart's Root Beer. I really like the novelty of root beer in beer glasses. The cashier, however, asked to see my ID. She was the chirpy and smiley type, so I thought she was joking. I asked her if she was. She said, "Well, it says 'beer' on the bottle, honey." And I laughed. She put out her hand; I thought it was for the 'imaginary ID', so I said, "Whatever." And then she got all serious: "I can't sell this unless you show me ID." I looked around to see if I was on Candid Camera or something; slowly, I handed her my driver's licence. She asked where the birthdate was on the card because it was from Ontario. I suppose she was doing the math, because she started talking all slow-mo: "So.. you're.. of age to buy this. Okay."
My question is this: Am I getting drunk tonight or did she barely pass the Cashier Exam? The News Archive | Email
The last News of the Day where I talked about my getting free donuts at Krispy Kreme produced a few emails that I have only now found in my Junk Mail box. Coincidentally, they were all questions. Here they are for public viewing:
1. Why were you in a donut shop if you're trying to lose weight? 2. Just a question: How come were you at a Krispy Kreme? Aren't you trying to lose weight? 3. Aren't you like 200 pounds? What's with the donuts? I thought you were trying to lose weight.
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