OK so we're having our first party tomorrow night. It kind of happened by accident: a good friend of ours is headed back to Tokyo for the holidays and will miss another mutual friend's Christmas party in two weeks, so I said "Oh, we should have a party for you before you go" and suddenly, that's what was happening. Then she invited some other mutual friends and I invited a couple of people and now it's a party. It's not dinner (we have no dining room table yet) but we're going to get some snacks, get a Christmas tree and some wine, and just decorate our tree, drink, snack and hang out. Should be fun, but I have to admit that I'm a little nervous. Our house is FAR from done but it's definitely coming along. We haven't ever had more than two people over to our place, even in our old place. So it will be a new experience.
I've just gutted my entire house, right down to the studs, and am slowly rebuilding it. After months of nothing but demolition, I'm finally starting to reverse the process. My bathroom contractor is working today to get ready for my tile guy. The insulation guy worked yesterday, so the house is nice and cozy now. (Right, except that I have to put the windows back in.) On Tuesday, the sheetrock guy comes to start putting my ceilings and walls back.
Just as soon as I wrap up my work in the attic: 2 more ceiling joists to sister, one more ceiling fan mount to install, plus 3 more fixture mounts for other lights. I'd planned to sister all the 5 ceiling joists that need it this weekend, but Tuesday I created a little emergency. While trying to rip out a piece of planking in the wall that had bowed and split--thereby preventing the sheetrock from being flush--I discovered that two of my ceiling joists were actually resting on that plank, instead of on the exterior load-bearing wall. The reason? when the foundation failed in the 40s that wall bowed out about three inches, and the joists slipped off it.
Which is how I broke my nose. With all that weight on the plank, it was under a lot of pressure, so when I finally managed to pry it off the studs, it came loose at high speed and whacked me in the face. I blacked out for about a second, before that little quiet voice in the back of my head kicked in. You know, the little voice that whispers, "Maybe you shouldn't take that short cut," and "Get up and check the door." My little voice said, "Don't fall off the ladder."
I didn't. I managed to get myself down the ladder, my head ringing, and my dust mask filling up with blood. As I was just starting to wonder how badly I'd fucked myself up, I heard this soft groaning sound and looked up. Above me, the ceiling was sagging about three inches. Not terrible, but likely to become so.
This was at about 8 pm, and who was I going to call for help? Sure, 911 would take care of my face, but they wouldn't do anything about my ceiling joists. So I went out to my truck, grabbed the jack, and a couple of 2 x 4's on my way back through the garage. I slapped one 2 x 4 up to the ceiling with a pair of screws (thank you, trusty cordless drill), wedged the other one up under it, balanced on top of the jack, and cranked the ceiling back up to the proper height. Contrary to my expectations, it worked perfectly. After all, that little jack was designed to lift one quarter of my truck, so it was strong enough to lift one tenth of my ceiling.
Then I could worry about my nose. Luckily I still have a kitchen sink, so I went it and pulled the dust mask off. Blood, lots of it. I washed off a bunch of it, but I didn't have a mirror, so I couldn't really see what the damage was. I had half a bag of ice in the freezer, so I grabbed that, stuck it on my face and drove to my temporary digs.
I kept the ice on it for about five hours, and that seems to have done the trick. I have a bump, a bruise, and my eyes are a little black, but my nose is straight. I'm pretty sure it's broken, because I can feel it wiggle when I laugh, and my eyebrows actually hurt.
Episode 2 was me calling into work sick the next morning. Only I didn't stay home. I couldn't. I went to the house and crawled up in the attic to sister in the three joists that just couldn't wait for this weekend. Then I had to repair and replace the plank I'd originally been intending to fix when it bitch slapped me. I won the rematch.
Website for details: Baker's Banter
This is one of those easy “put everything into a bowl” recipes:
1 cup canned pumpkin or squash
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons to 1/4 cup lukewarm water*
1/4 cup soft butter
2 1/2 cups King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour
1 3/4 cups King Arthur White Whole Wheat Flour
1/4 cup Baker’s Special Dry Milk or nonfat dry milk
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves, optional
3 tablespoons brown sugar, light or dark
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons instant yeast
*Adjust the amount of water by the time of year or your climate. For summer, or in a humid environment, use the lesser amount of water. In winter, or in a dry climate, use the greater amount. It’s always best to start with the lesser amount; you can always add more, but it’s pretty hard to go back and add less
Also, I am back on reviewing music as I have stopped going out to see live bands. I am still not accepting new music as I still have to clear out what I've already been sent/requested. Apologies to any promises that I may have made.
sarahelizabethfoster.com ♥ myspace
Sarah Elizabeth Foster's EP, Gardening From the Ground Up Part 1 from Studio Sarah Records, is the first submission I've received for a 2010 release. Generally around this time, I get a ton of Christmas music offers (which, hey, I will be doing a roundup next week!).
Foster actually has a degree in music, singing French, German, Italian, Portuguese, Spanish, and, of course English. While this EP is only in English, it does showcase her classically singing abilities. My favorite song is actually the title-track, "Gardening From the Ground Up". There's something about this love song, from rain drops to the up-beat jazzy tempo, that I really like. This is in contrast to the opening song, "Wake Up", for a song that's about waking up, it sounds like "take it easy" evening song.
While people will automatically associate Foster to 60s girl singers, I think her vocal styles, would actually lends itself really well to modern indiepop music. I'm certainly interested in hearing what part two sounds like. If you live in New York, Foster will be playing tomorrow, December 4th at Pete's Candy Store in Brooklyn.
FERAL CHILDREN
myspace.com/feralchildrenseattle
Feral Children is a "backwoods" band from Seattle, Washington. Their self-titled EP was a free released on Sarathan Records, while their forth-coming album, Brand New Blood, will be available digitally December 8th, while a physical release on January 19th, 2010.
As their name suggest, their music seems, I don't know, wild. Like "grizzly bear", "panda bear, "deerhunter" and "animal collective" wild, and this isn't surprising, considering Scott Colburn (Animal Collective's Feels producer) is their producer on the Feral Children album. Compared to previous bands I mentioned, Feral Children seems more melodic and less experimental. I'm not sure who produced their EP (I rarely get liner notes for digital submissions), but they certainly have that collective-like influence.
I did give the EP a few listens, and not entirely impressed with the singer (is it Bill Cole?). His vocals is very rough, voice cracking comes to mind on tracks like "Saint". While this may possibly be the greatest song done live, listening to it on headphones made me cringe.
Who knows, maybe their album will be much better than the self-titled EP. It is, after all, their first release, I'm sure they'll improve over time. Information on the free downloads, head over to Sarathan Records.
MOJORISING
mojorisingband.com ♥ myspace
I keep mis-reading this band as Major/ising, so I'm not sure if other people might have the same problem reading the name (it's OK people misread W♥M as "we love music" all the time...)
Mojorising recently moved from Los Angeles from Australia. So prices for their EP at $12 on the merch page might seem high, until you realize it's in AUS dollars.
My impression is that this duo makes some really funky music, but with classic rock attitudes (think Jamiroquai). The funk soul translate well on a few of their songs, "She Woke Up To Me" and "Sooth Me And Use Me". The later is very dancey, I suspect it will play well to a live audience. Incidentally if you are interested in hearing the first song, it's available as a free download.
The band is playing a few dates in California:
- Dec 20 2009 THE MINT Los Angeles
Jan 10 2010 EL CID Los Angeles
SEA OF BEES
seaofbees.com ♥ myspace
Lara dismissed Julie Baenziger, aka Sea of Bees, as being too "CocoRosie/Joanna Newsom", and really - what's wrong with that ? As expected, Baenziger's vocal style is that of a small cute child. And also cute is the title of the EP, called Bee Eee Pee. This is a collection of four songs and one intermission song.
All of the songs are pretty minimalistic, usually with just acoustic and Baenziger singing. The stand-out track for me is "Willis", because it does feature a melodic backing music (vs just acoustic alone). Also, the inclusion of the random intro is nice - it explained that this particular recording happens to be the third take.
Julie is doing some winter dates:
- Dec 4 2009 Fox & Goose Sacramento, California
Dec 15 2009 Sacramento, California
Jan 26 2010 Matadero Huesca, Huesca
Jan 30 2010 Tanned Tin Festival Castelo, Castellón
Feb 10 2010 TBA w/ Mountain Man, Chelsea Wolfe and Dead Western Sacramento, California
PS, That's all I can manage today. Check out Ryan as he's retweeting on twitter/weheartmusic. You can see some of the tweets on the right-side of this page. The account is kept active by live blogging by myself, Ceji, and Ryan. Not just a robot account!
12/03/2009 22:55:52 ♥ vu (
) ♥weheartmusic.com♥twitter.com/weheartmusic♥news.weheartmusic.com
She's figured out the baby gate! :)
I'm really into this:
Somebody got a C.Lit drawing tattooed on their wrist.
And I think it looks very cute.
(Photo is borrowed from this blog entry on the Commas and Clauses blog. Check out the other entries. She's got some neat things to look at.)
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind an' losin' your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race
No matter whatcha doin' if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways it's one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know that it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your rope is a-slidin' 'cause your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
The windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops are shakin'
And your whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
An' to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?" And you start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's watchin' with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly an' it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Your eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out an' fooled while facin' a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
It's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on your mind that you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
An' your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin'
On this pathway I'm strollin', this space I'm taking
And this air I'm inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailing
On this mandolin I'm strumming, in the song I'm singing,
In the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking
In the words I'm writing
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking?
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding You need somethin' special
You need somethin' special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked
You need something special, all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said, maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And your trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look an' you start gettin' the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dim-lit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Rantin' and ravin' and takin' your money
And you thinks it's funny
No, you can't find it neither in no night club, no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
No matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on your ticket stub
No, it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in a cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hairdo or cotton candy clothes
Ain't in the dime store dummies an' bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knocking and tapping in Christmas wrapping
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute, look at my skin,
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow,
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry,
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No, you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made of paper maché
And inside of the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn you in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind your back, my friend,
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all the rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're fooling you
The ones that jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of rnoney and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat
Saying, "Christ, do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty, that stuff ain't real": No, but that ain't your game, it ain't your race
You can't hear your name, you can't see your face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that you're seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you go to Brooklyn State Hospital You find God in the church of your choice
You find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In Grand Canyon
Sundown
This story shocked me.
So we finalized all of M's paperwork: now's he got his healthcare card on its way (thanks, Quebec), a Social Insurance Number, etc etc. We expected to stand in lines all day today but it actually went pretty fast and painlessly.
I have been sorta depressed lately. And to top it off, I haven't been feeling well since I got back to NYC, so I haven't been able to work.
I don't like the feeling of knowing there is a lot of work to be done but being physically incapable of doing it.
(I mean, I could probably do some work, but there would most like be lots of mistakes as I battle the waves of dizziness and nausea and headaches that have been plaguing me lately. I'm all about realizing and respecting my limits.)
I really want a Boston Terrier. Two of them.
I'm going to keep saying that until it happens.
I found this picture of Helen Keller and a Boston Terrier:
He's looking at me, Helen.
