The Routine

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So, two things!

Thing 1: the internet and I don’t exactly have the same relationship that we used to. It’s difficult to explain, but I mostly blame social networking (or thank social networking, in a way?) for the constant onslaught of STUFF that has, I think, managed to seriously, officially ruffle my good sensibilities. Really. It’s great that people can share and have such instantaneous contact with one another. But hello — HELLO — I am a HERMIT. I am such a hermit. I have problems enough as it is tolerating people in general. I am quite grateful for instantaneous and occasionally very fun internet-based connection with many with whom I might not otherwise get to interact with but at what cost? All those other excessive crap of the internet!

My sister, who is soon relocating from the New York Metropolitan area to good old Ohio, was recently having a conversation during my visit with another New Yorker-about-to-leave about why this particular city is so damn frustrating to live in, and it came down to information overload — how there are these rules of etiquette and existence that take eons to figure out due to the fact that said rules are buried in massive amounts of data and particulars that don’t really matter! And I was all like, wait, are you guys talking about the internet? So that, pretty much.

I will say that I hate how this ruffling of good sensibilities has in turn effected how I write here (particularly how often I write here), but you know. That’s life. Everything is always shifting and moving. People use the internet differently than they once did, me too. Where does a blog fit in, particularly this blog that I have been writing in for, good GOD, almost ten years?

It’s been a really good extended-ish break I’ve had, and I’ve been happy to have it going on the idea that if I’m not going to blog I should at least not feel obligated to apologize for not blogging. So…hah! I’m not even going to apologize. I’m such a jerk! Hah!

Thing 2: WHAT THE HELL ASS BALLS I love The Pixies.

I mean, this happened before, ten years ago. I found myself pretty thoroughly obsessed, and at the time it was exciting because The Pixies are loud and amped and often very dissonant (a thing I hadn’t quite experienced enough in “popular” music), as well as having that particular band ensemble sound for which I’m a complete sucker. Also some pretty insane harmonic motion/timing/progressions. Not to mention the fact that nobody scream-sings quite like Frank Black does. There was a lull some time after I had hit college, in which I still acknowledged that The Pixies were the jam, but only really listened to one particular album, Trompe Le Monde — still one of my complete favorites — but nothing else because I thought for some reason the other albums just didn’t live up to that one. Well I was WROOONG. Doolittle. Bossanova. Come On Pilgrim. How did I miss these for those eight-or-so years?

The funny thing is, now that some time has passed and I’ve listened to some more tunes and in particular run the music-school gamut and particularly the music theory gamut (insert momentary pause for shaking of fist at Eastman School of Music’s theory-testing schemes), I find that I actually hear them completely differently than I did ten years ago. It’s a little like I’m listening to this band I’ve been a pretty big fan of for the last ten years for the first time. Which is weird. I also still like the Pixies for all the same reasons: dissonance, ensemble, harmonic progressions, screaming. Just in different ways.

Plus a lot of other stuff I won’t get into because it would be NERDY.

I don’t even want to say anything more than that. I’m just going to chuck some tunes out there.

Velouria

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No. 13

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Shit Just Got Real-ish

I grew up in Tornado Alley. The drills were common-place. The sirens were a norm. Those crazy-colored pre-storm skies have become surprisingly un-freaky throughout the years. This shit happens in the Midwest, and especially in Central Illinois tornadoes are a no-brainer. Like Earthquakes on the East Coast. Duh, tornadoes!

But hell if there isn’t some extra weight hanging in those sirens and doppler radars, after everything that’s been going on weather-wise in the past month or so. Damn.

So it’s true, I might have readied my cello for a little bit of basement hanging, an hour ago. Yep.

In other news, I am back from all those places where I was! I know I should update, particularly on my hilarious Amtrak experience, but…eh!

I’m Okay. No, I’m Great. No, I’m Just Crazy.

Okay, look, I’ve been away. Visiting my sister in New York and eating ridiculous food and walking like GOD KNOWS how many miles per day. And so I’ve been taking the blogging and the internet easy. But I had to come back to share and freak out because

CIBO MATTO IS HAVING A REUNION TOUR and I have to go to one of these shows or I will have failed as a human being. Because seriously. Dismemberment Plan reuniting? Good, though not the end of the world if I miss it. Cibo Matto reuniting? Definitely the end of the world if I miss this. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if maybe the survival of the planet depends on my going to see Cibo Matto. So, I’d better get my ass to one of those shows. For the sake of the world.

It Lives

Two things, besides the fact that I’m CRAAAAAAAZY and I can’t wait for this gigs and lessons to be over with so I can go do fun things. FUN THINGS, I SAY.

1. There is an app that allows you to control a DSLR and fire shots through your iPhone via remote signal. Mind sufficiently boggled.

2. Severe musical obsessions have occurred between this past January and now. I feel this need to play a little catch-up and HERE YOU GO I LOVE CARIBOU.