| music in la grande ville |
[Mar. 23rd, 2008|04:00 pm] |
I think i'm a fairly selective shopper. My approach to certain things, like CDs, has involved an increasing amount of research and lists so that i can make the best use of libraries, rental options, and a comparison of 9 Canadian online retailers for example. A truly obsessive strategy that is also meant to set me up nicely whenever i have a chance to walk into the record shop offerings of The Big City (whichever non-Kingston destination that happens to be). Just add time and there's ample room for browsing or taking advantage of whatever particulars a store has to offer. On Friday (March 21) i took my list into Cheap Thrills in Montreal, but it was really the particular offerings of the store that consumed the majority of my spending.
I didn't even look through much of their used offerings, which appeared to be surprisingly specialized. I did spend a lot of time with a $5 section, which contained a lot of unexpected offerings from labels such as Constellation, Kranky, and Alien8. There were probably about 20 albums i could have happily purchased from this cheapie section alone, and though i narrowed down the pile, i still went a bit overboard with my purchases, as always seems to happen with me when let loose in a good CD shop, despite arriving with a particular item list in hand. I made some risk purchases out of the $5 offerings, including 3 albums from Tanakh, who i had never actually heard before, though mostly this worked out. I came home with about 3 items in my bag that were a bit ridiculous in the sense that i should have looked more closely or given more thought to including an EP (i always seem to accidentally get caught up in those) and an Aesop Rock that is divided into separate accapella and instrumental mixes, and for which i have no remix intentions. I also spent some time browsing through through their specialty sections, which basically comprise various forms that could be called experimental. A good selection, and of course some temptations, but my complaint comes in how all of this is organized. Not even staff understand the difference between avant-garde, actuelle, noise, etc. These unnecessary subdivisions were evident when i attempted to cross two items off my list (a couple that i was quite certain that Cheap Thrills had in their inventory -- from checking their web site -- and that aren't easy to find, especially outside of Quebec). Staff basically didn't know which of a few possible sections to look in, but in the end both albums were placed in my hands.
The 2 specific purchases (beyond the $5 section that is) are both on a label called Victo, which releases recordings of performances made at Victoriaville's annual Festival International de Musique Actuelle. Both of these incidentally from the 22nd festival. They are: Wolf Eyes & Anthony Braxton - Black Vomit, and Martin Tétreault/Kid Koala - Phon-O-Victo. I only have first impressions at this point, but it sounds like a lot of turntable goodness to explore on the Tétreault/Kid Koala. I've only heard it while riding in a car at this point, which definitely isn't the most appropriate place to absorb the range of sounds and cleverness that seems to be happening here. The Wolf Eyes/Braxton, my most expensive purchase of that day at $20, i fear may be a representative of one of those improv/jam sessions that really only work in the moment when you happen to be part of it. It, at least initially, comes off as mostly directionless and not very interesting until near the end. In both cases i was attracted to these CDs when i found out about them because of the particular combination of artists.
Thursday night was good times indeed in Montreal. Silver Mt. Zion, no, sorry, ahem, Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-la-la Band was a pretty amazing show. I have to assume that they're not an easy band to set up for live sound with their many parts, large dynamic range, and even Efrim being a bit all over the place relative to his mic, but the sound was clear at La Tulipe, even at the intense parts. Even the parts that left me uncertain on album settled much better in this setting. |
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| CDs & music, y'know |
[Mar. 17th, 2008|01:20 am] |
Shouldn't be much of a matter at all, but recently i bought a couple of CDs, an action i have performed quite regularly in the recent past, but this couple is my first recorded music purchase in at least 8 months, since before living at my current residence. For this particular purchase i endured the pathetic state of Kingston's CD shops to buy from an old-school bricks-&-mortar style shop, rather than save my money and have a decent selection available to me by utilizing online retailers, mainly because i had a gift certificate to make it easily worth my while to do so. By doing so however, and after scouring this store's inventory, a couple of Stereolab related releases came to my attention that never should have escaped it in the first place.
Too Pure (whose releases at least normally show up at CFRC) apparently released a sountrack last fall to a film called "La Vie d'Artiste", which is a composition resulting from another intersection of Stereolab and The High Llamas -- specifically, this album is by Tim Gane, Sean O'Hagan, and maybe some other folks. First impression: it sounds decent, though it does ultimately resolve as a soundtrack with a fairly unintrusive, laid back feel that would fit in with the better of the late 90s lounge revival era, and abundant theme repetition.
The other is a release of 2000 called Schema (self-titled) on 5RC which manages to be new to me, someone who has at least been claiming to follow Stereolab with interest, 8 years later. Schema is built from members of Hovercraft (who a recent revisit to revealed as an experimental freak-outish instrument rock (from the last half of the 90s) that is largely like a somewhat modernized music in the style of Pink Floyd's "Interstellar Overdrive") and Mary (the dead one) from Stereolab. First impression: easily the better of the 2 purchases. Textured and at least a bit droney music, and more appealing than Hovercraft. So these chance spottings should be fun for a while.
In other news, i'm heading to Montréal this week for what will ridiculously be only my 3rd time to that city just down the road. Of course i have Fairmount bagels, Schwartz's smoked meat among other food indulgences in mind, and plan on sticking my head in some CD shops (i'll take suggestions sine i really have almost no clue at this point), and am excited by the chance to see some friends that i don't normally have the chance to. But what brings me to Montréal initially, and where my building excitement really lies, is Silver Mt. Zion (and probably some variant of the Memorial Orchestra/Tra-la-la Band) playing at La Tulip. This show is cheap ($13) and not so surprisingly sold out, plus the venue looks promising. This brings me to a couple of new releases on Constellation Records to also get excited about...
Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-la-la Band - 13 Blues for Thirteen Moons
Admittedly my favourite Silver Mt. Zion albums are the early ones, where they sounded most directly descended from Godspeed You! Black Emperor, in what i call classic Montréal post-rock (late 90s/early 00s). If nothing else however, "Horses In the Sky" from 2005 made it clear that Silver Mt. Zion had evolved into something else, mainly something where Efrim placed dominant lyrics and singing. This is fine at most times, perhaps despite Efrim's quite apparent inability or unwillingness to sing. Sometimes the very charged lyrics are grating, and it's these that seem to be the ones to get repeated. Other than that becoming a problem at a couple of points on this (13 Blues...) release, the intensity, especially regarding the contributions of the strings, are still in full effect and make it work. Worth noting, i think, that this album is introduced with a strange construct of high pitch tones flailing through the first 12 tracks, or about 1 and a quarter minutes, which have no association (to my interpretation) with the album.
Evangelista - Hello, Voyager
This follows on Carla Bozulich's "Evangelista" release of 2006, which was easily one of my favourite releases for quite some time owing to its construction of songs and sounds from a very specifically (yet indescribably abstract) constructed dark place. Evangelista (shifting from album title to band) consists at least mostly of the same people who played on Bozulich's 2006 album, which includes members of Silver Mt. Zion. It does not carry quite the same beautifully brooding dark place throughout, though it does show up. Perhaps this one is slightly more rock with its anger and passion, though i haven't quite pinpointed it. Still great, but i am glad that this one isn't the introduction to this Evangelista notion. |
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| testicular surgery time is here |
[Mar. 6th, 2007|08:06 pm] |
Tomorrow's the big day when this big (right) ball gets deflated. Though the testicle itself shouldn't actually be altered and have to go through anything quite so painful as how that proposition sounds, and instead an accumulation of liquid stored in the vaginalis surrounding the testicle will be drained and further accumulation prevented. A bit of anxiety, but mostly the process is set in motion and is ready to go in the morning. Can't say that i'm a huge fan of the general anaesthetic, or having to be at the hospital by 6am, plus i'm not sure what to expect for recovery. Interesting what it will be like to not have this grossly oversized ball to carry around. Surgery is scheduled for 8:30am. I have no idea when to expect to awaken, and further, be home.
I'd like to warn you that the following contains actual photos, which some (most?) are likely to be unhappy about:( what's been hiding in my pants ) |
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| vehicle anxiety |
[Feb. 17th, 2007|03:24 am] |
I made a bit too much of an ordeal about this to some people. The story: Thursday (Feb. 15) was the most utterly ridiculously cold feeling day. A record of the temperatures doesn't really indicate such, but that's all lies. Freezing winds were worse than their usual winter cold snap punch in the face offerings and just made any number of clothing layers hopeless. I seriously thought that people shouldn't be made to go out in such conditions, but of course we can't let weather stop us from carrying on with life for the most part. I headed to work as a ridiculous looking bundle with toques and hood that wouldn't protect me from the kind of pain that felt like the worst ice cream headache, and a scarf around my face, with the result of reduced peripheral vision and my breath freezing to my facial hair. All i wanted was to get to my destination quickly and not have to go back out (until it was time to groan about oppressive summer humidity). Along my route -- at Division St., crossing Brock St. specifically -- i was crossing an intersection guided by traffic signals when a quickly approaching vehicle honks at me as if i've misstepped into the road and it had the right of way, and luckily slowed down enough that i couldn't help but fall into the hood of the vehicle partially, but continue to walk on uninjured. I progressed into the intersection only since i saw the signal offered to me as the usual guidance from the traffic light. If it wasn't me getting in the way of this driver it would have been oncoming traffic it seems.
Instead of doing much of anything, i think i only flung the term "asshole" at the driver, then walked around the car to continue on my route. I'll be left with no idea if the incident even registered with the person in the car. I really feel i should have done something, but the cold was an overriding concern that was already pissing me off. As i continued south on Division someone came up from behind me to ask if i was ok, and confirmed that i did indeed have the walk light. I was surprisingly unshaken, but very frustrated. I wanted to be angry at something, but instead just sat in the lounge of CFRC and pouted with my weak coffee for a bit.
I already feel uncomfortable crossing streets where there is no clear indication of when the appropriate time to do so is. I've often joked that i most certainly will be run down by a vehicle since my low vision can only add to the matter of driver's being seemingly unconcerned with pedestrians and anything other than perhaps their need to trim a few seconds off their journey. I've often been frustrated enough when i think i have the ok but someone just has to drive through that light that just turned red against them. I seriously don't see a lot of hope for not getting run down sooner or later. |
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| ghetto phone must die |
[Feb. 4th, 2007|09:26 pm] |
![[image of ghetto phone, a.k.a. Nokia 5125]](http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y248/suspar/ghettophone.png) This modern marvel of mobility also transforms into a light-duty tank. Tipping the scale with what must come at least close to a pound of itself, and boasting dimensions that will put a noticeable (and uncomfortable) bulge in your pants, with additional protruding antenna for added discomfort. The large battery supplies a particularly short talk and standby time, while coming detached from the main unit far too easily. For the visually impaired in particular, the monochrome LCD display is particularly difficult to read, meaning that by the time you've figured out who's calling, you've already missed the call, though the green LED back- (well, actually side-)lights add a cool, eerie, and not particularly helpful glow. The unintuitive interface and menu structure will have you avoiding text messaging at any cost. This provision of Nokia dates from somewhere from 1998 to 2000, and appears to never have been popular. As a bonus, 3 games are included: snake (for which my unbeatable high score is 316, & yr not gonna beat it, bitches!), and 2 other useless offerings in which you can't really see what's going on. Ghetto phone, a.k.a. Nokia 5125, like many models of a similar and even newer age is being rendered obsolete by Rogers, who is shutting down the TDMA and analog networks that this device works with at the end of May. It should be noted that ghetto phone has served my purposes well over the past 9 months or so, giving me full abilities to send and receive telephone calls with mobility, especially since i paid nothing for this hand-me-down phone. Ghetto phone will soon be laid to rest, or perhaps whipped down the basement stairs.
Indeed not so long ago (it's on the record here) i was one to regularly issue complaint about mobile phone users and that particular pop culture phenomenon. Though i don't think that i've quite arrived at being exactly what i was griping about, there are indicators that the future potentially holds that for me. In the summer, when my residence will at least see a shuffle of tenants, i plan on cutting off the land line, as i can't justify two phone lines. But more, Rogers is sending me a free new phone to bring me over to their newer GSM network, which i find to be a fairly sweet deal, and am actually a bit excited about. Sure the new phone, a Nokia 2610 (still in need of a proper name by me), is about as basic/entry level/bottom of the line as they come right now, and i did for a moment actually consider spending money to get something of better quality, but it's coming to me for free, and i don't need things like built in crap-cams and ass-sounding MP3 players. And despite this model's rudimentary offerings by today's standards, it is still a huge upgrade from where i'm at at this moment, though it remains to be seen if it's more or less a plastic piece of trash with no durability. I don't like wasting things, which is why i'd keep using my ghetto phone if i could, so i expect something, perhaps unrealistically, to give me years of service. This colour screen, equipped with organizer functions, much smaller and more lightweight phone should be good though.
Ok, that's the end of the excitement about something so stupid. Now go to cfrc.ca, and get excited about all the Funding Drive events happening this week, and the value you get out of your donation. Thank you very much. |
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| hydrocele testis |
[Dec. 17th, 2006|08:54 pm] |
Wikipedia for getting up to speed
On Tuesday (Dec. 19) i will have some kind of assessment made on my right testicle. I had this done about a couple of years ago followed by an ultrasound. These examinations all came to be following one of those "routine" physicals with the family doctor that i had for the first time in about 10 years. At that point i'd decided that all, or at least most, was well, and that nothing further (i.e., surgery) was necessary. This thing has continued to slowly inflate however, which is the nature of this particular condition, so this time the plan is to go through with getting this taken care of before i have a lopsided watermelon sized package bulging out of my trousers. Right now it's more like nearly baseball sized.
For most of my post-pubescence i just thought that this anomalous affliction of the balls was simply a characteristic of my physicality, though i did become a bit concerned about an eventual noticeable increase in size. Otherwise, as is pointed out about hydrocele testis generally, there has been no pain, and only the physical awkwardness to cope with sometimes. I have wondered why my left testicle is seemingly so tiny, and wonder if it could be related. Before discovering that i was slowly accumulating liquid around my testicle i actually thought it was the testicle itself that was so enlarged. I also figured it was somehow related to how i masturbate. I was actually kicked in the groin a couple times or so in public school by kids who just found that afflicting that kind of retching pain, at least to a poor, wussy, outcast kid was one of the bullying joys of the playground. It will probably never be known if those incidents is the cause.
For me at least any medical procedure is a bit unnerving, plus i expect that the surgery will cause more discomfort for a while than this little condition has ever offered me. Still though, fairly minor ordeal. I just never tell anyone about such things. |
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| summer (and stuff) |
[Nov. 23rd, 2006|10:12 pm] |
Sadly, i've neglected writing down the details of the remainder of the Vancouver/Victoria trip -- not just here, but anywhere. I could and should recollect some of that now, but still my attitude remains, dictating that i just don't feel like it. I've been almost equally neglectful of you LJ friends, as i've read almost nothing that you've posted over the past several months. At this point, while waiting for mundane computer activity (damn you progress bar) i'm expending this quick moment to bring you a detail or 2 on what's been up with Scott E. M. Stevens (the M. stands for Me).
Oh yeah, i can really only think of one thing i think. I've applied for the CFRC Operatoins Officer position. I think there were 14 or so applicants, 10 of whom were chosen for the first interview round that has been narrowed down to 5 for the second, project style round, which is where i am now. CFRC volunteers are encouraged to engage with this part of the process and should have received details by email from the CFRC list. The Ops Officer is the only permanent staff position at CFRC Radio. For that and other reasons you are probably concerned with how this carries out.
Even though i think i might be in over my head, i'm still putting my full effort into this application process. Though i must say that i really do like my Music Coordinator post, though of course something with more security and better than minimum wage is of course nice to think about. With that though, i feel i have little to lost by making this application. With over 10 years at the station, >3 as Music Coordinator, i do hold a lot of strong opinions about what works and what is appropriate for CFRC. Best of luck to the other applicants just the same.
Only at CFRC would some of the hiring committee and some of the interviewees end up drinking together the night after the interviews. We'er super sweet.
I suppose the other thing i'm up to is replacing a somehwat defective hard drive in my iRiver h120. Had to order it from the US side, but i just couldn't handle the unreliable disk not letting me record with this machine. High quality portable recording to replace MiniDisc being a primary reason that i bought it. A benefit i'll get from this is a 50% capacity upgrade from 20 to 30GB.
Tell me that last detail was every bit enthralling for you. |
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| Vancouver daily sun |
[Jul. 2nd, 2006|11:41 am] |
I arrived in Vancouver at approximately 9pm PT on Wednesday June 28. The entire journey here ended out working nicely for me. The one stressful point was getting through Toronto traffic. My sister & Rob (her boy unit) did drive me to the airport, which was a sweet deal for me. I understand that they were caught in traffic that was at least as terrible on the way home, taking hours to get through Toronto.
My accommodation here with Lydia is spectacular, as she has fed me, including when i first arrived, and acted as tour guide. She lives just off of Commercial Dr., a great area full of life and diversity and all that good stuff. This area is apparently the place to see Wold Cup action. Commercial goes completely crazy, especially when Italy, Portugal, or Brazil are involved.
The weather has been perfect for these few daysc as well. Good for the abundant walking that i've been doing. First day, Thursday, i followed Lydia into work to visit CiTR. After seeing most of that, investigating Luke's (the musid director) stacks, and sitting around for a bit, i caught the bus partway back up Broadway, to Zulu Records. Spent a bit over $90 on 5 CDs. It being a quite expensive and strangely organised store (e.g., John Cage in jazz, Hot Chip in pop/rock) made the selection process easier.
After some time in Zulu, i walked over to Granville Island, which didn't seem to be an island at all. Very tourist oriented, but still has some nice areas for walking. I meandered my way back home from there (mostly via Broadway), which meant that i had walked a few hours that afternoon. When i got back to where i was staying i was too entirely satisfied with not getting up at all, and didn't put any effort into attempting to find the NoMeansNo show. I figure that this will likely be my biggest regret about this Vancouver excursion, as i think i should see NMN for sure, but mostly that was likely my single chance to experience the Commodore Ballroom. There's actually almost no music going on in Vancouver while i'm here outside of the jazz festival. Instead i stayed in and drank wine until 2am with Lydia, which is also a valid experience.
On Friday (June 30) i again didn't bother to get myself outside of the door beforea> 11. I headed in the other direction to CJSF. I thought it was forever away, with a ride on the "SkyTrain" (a.k.a. subway, but above ground and is in fact a robot that people willingly climb into) that must have taken at least very close to an hour. Turns out it wasn't that far at all, and i'd just taken the wrong direction on the loop. Which i managed to do both ways, even asking someone's advise as to which direction i should take on the way back. A couple of hours wasted on the transit system was indeed no fun, and very much like the kind of thing i do in an unfamiliar setting.
At CJSF i basically visited with Magnes, the station manager, which was quite nice. It was a quiet afternoon there with very little of anyone else around. As with CiTR, i didn't keep the patience to stick around as perhaps i should have. In this case it could have meant meeting with Ed, the music director. In retrospect i realise that it probably would have been better to swap which days i'd gone to which stations. CJSF was bound to have more folks to meet if it wasn't the last day before a holiday weekend, and CiTR is apparently quite happening on Fridays, with Nardwuar, DJ Ska-T, and a hiphop show which Luke calls the best in North America, and Lydia calls the host a very humble guy, who happens to run Beatstreet Records.
After finally making my way to downtown i spent the next few hours walking about. I had no idea where anything was or which direction to go in when i got out at Granville station, which itself was a bit of a lucky choice. Not bringing any kind of map or guide for Vancouver or Victoria was the stupidest omission on my part. I soon decided to head toward the water, finding my way along paths through a harbour, and along a trail north of downtown, which i later discovered is probably part of Stanley Park. Along those shores i did get to submerge my feet in Pacific waters.
With no shortcuts or alternate routes that i knew of i had to walk the entire route inhttp://cdn.scratchrecords.com/"> the opposite direction to get back to downtown. From that point i began to search for Scratch Records, having no idea of even the address. About 90 minutes of searching around while asking everyone who looked young enough to possibly know yielded no results. After finding food and a pint i dragged my exhaustion and stiff, aching legs back to my accommodation and went to bed early.
Could have been content with going nowhere on Saturday (July 1) were i not wasting time on the west coast. So i hung out in the neighborhood of Commercial most of the day, often having to push my way through mobs of excited footie fans. Damn, the street was crazy after the day's games. Canada Day was an afterthought in this area, with some family/kiddie type stuff in the park, but the footie fans were dominating some of that area too. I recorded some of their ritual chanting or whatever it is these jocks were doing.
After spending the day in and out of Lydia's apartment (hadn't seen her all day yet at this point) i decided to hop on the SkyTrain to downtown around 7pm, which went more than smoothly this time. Because of my hesitancy at an exit in Granville station (damn blind tourists) i was spotted by former CFRC programmer and Vancouver resident Martin. This incredibly unlikely chance is still amazing me. I hadn't been in contact with Martin at all, or even heard anything about him since he left Kingston a few years ago. He proceeded to tour me around all the streets/areas of downtown that i was supposed to go to and bought me pints. During our course we bumped into a pack of CFRC/Kingston activist community fok, including Sean (don't even know his last name). Holy Fuck!
After Martin departed i walked around Gastown for a bit, grabbed a couple more pints at some Irish pub, and before heading back home scored some bud with the help of an old hippie. Indeed a first time for me. Before getting into the station my need to urinate was becoming desparate. Wasn't helped by finding no washrooms, going in the wrong direction that didn't lead to the SkyTrain, then missing my stop and having to go back. I couldn't make it home and found a spot on a side street. Again, this is not like me. I went to bed a bit stoned and a bit drunk.
Today, now at 1pm, this entry, initially mostly written yesterday in my pen and paper type journal, is all that i've done so far. Time to get the good coffee in me. |
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| shame of over-drinking |
[Apr. 15th, 2006|01:56 am] |
Six days have passed since i've consumed a drop of alcohol. This is not written as though i'm a recovering alcoholic, though i do drink regularly and these days it's unlikely for more than a day or 2 in a week to pass without me having a drink of something. Last Saturday evening while out having a fun time i drank so entirely too much that i was as wasted as i've ever been, and haven't had desires on alcohol so much since. It was a situation that i can find no pride in.
A house performance headlined by B.A. Johnston was exciting and fabulous, and all the while i was sucking back the remains of the scotch that i'd brought with me, or at least drinking enough of whatever else was coming my way to compensate for what i didn't drink out of that bottle. After performances were done, we moved to The Toucan, and though i had definitely been handed over to the care of the alcohol by that point, i wasn't feeling bad in any way at that point. After a bit of time hanging around at the bar (visiting Laura's DJ première there) i ordered a Creemore. I only had a sip of that pint before i was running from the Touncan in a new found need to get the hell home, or at least out of there. I think the timing of the poor ol' neglected Creemore was coincidental, but an overwhelming drunken ill feeling had found me, and i had sat myself on the curb in front of the Toucan for a while finding comfort staring and occasionally puking a bit into the sewer grate in front of me. I wasn't moving from there any time soon, except that someone from the drinking establishment had called a cab for me, mentioning something about concern for the police coming around. This staff person was the only person i'd made any attempt to communicate with since i ran from the bar, though what i meant to be something like "thanks" was likely incoherent mumbles.
When the cab pulled up directly in front of me (it could have been there a while and had to maneuver itself into getting my attention) i managed to pull myself in, communicate where i needed to get to, and even remember to ask if he could accept Visa (as i had no cash on me). I also wretched a bit at first most likely causing concerns about having a puker on board for the cabbie. When i was dropped off i managed to pay (you should see my signature on that receipt -- apparently it's valid though), unlock my front door and pull myself through to the kitchen floor with more wretching, knowing that i had to get the cat fed before i could go to bed. Feeding the damn cat was the hugest chore conceivable, and i simply lay on the kichen floor for quite a while just thinking about it. My house mate came home, and watched some TV while i was lying there. Eventually, i started pulling myself down the basement stairs to get this cat feeding process over with. Or at least begun. At about 2 steps down i paused to puke a bit and rest for another moment. Eventually i did the rest of the stairwell to be marked by puking again. Eventually, i got food to that damn kitty. The housemate said something to me about needing help or am i alright, and i mumbled something back. He brought back a bucket, and cleaned up my upper stairwell deposit. Now, before getting to bed i would have to retreive the bucket, clean the bottom step, and make my way back up a second time. This too did eventually happen, but i can't imagine where that will came from right now just thinking about it. When i'd finished with all my business in the basement i simply crashed on the kitchen floor for a good couple of hours only to notice that the sky was beginning to take light. At this point i got myself to bed.
I thought at first that i might be alright when i awoke, but indeed the hangover made itself known. I was useless for Sunday. I was mostly comfortable just to stay with my bed and leave it at that. I was still fairly drained during Monday.
This is a shameful moment of my life.
I am having a beer while writing this. |
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| my application for OCD |
[Dec. 18th, 2005|03:01 am] |
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or
how i fell in love with my idiosyncrasies
I've been tagged twice over for this and will now finally get on with it. ( I suppose i may need to state the rules here. ) I don't know what a "meme" is/means, but that probably doesn't matter. The great thing about doing this so completely after everyone else has finished with and forgotten about it is that i can gather my ideas from what everyone else has put out there (i.e., steal). In addition to my big 5, i can respond to everyone else's list, all in one convenient (to me) location.
- staring into the light: I find myself staring into lights. I recall having no explanation for this at one time when a friend asked me what i was looking at. I seem to have an inclination for looking at a light source, though not so much for the sun. I thought that this was something that i used to do a lot more of, but i just caught myself doing it tonight, so i don't know. My father was a moth.
- textures/colours too: Similary i like looking at or into objects up close. This seems to mainly be transparent or translucent items, and usually looking through at a light source. I don't think i usually start at this consciously, but i really like some combination of colours, textures, and perhaps some mysterious other that i get into when looking at light through liquid, or looking through a glass shape. You bet, articulation is difficult with this one.
- fidgety mofo: I'm always toying with anything that's in my hands, or picking up anything that's near. It perhaps looks like a distraction, but i feel it goes along with the likes of a conversation. I'm sure this shares a direct relationship to the item above.
- sleep needs:
- I must sleep on a side. When i fall asleep on my back the results are invariably disturbing dreams.
- I need some kind of coverage. A sheet will do, but having nothing feels incomplete or uncomfortable to me. This has nothing to do with temperature.
- The blankets must be fairly even with each other and cover me entirely, excepting my head. I can't handle a toe or a shoulder not being tucked in. Again incomplete or uncomfortable somehow.
- lists: Let this mark my organizational aspirations. I make lists of all sorts of things. Potential CD and DVD purchases, and more uselessly, the features i want in things i can't afford. Lists for stuff i should read and recommendations. Lists for all sorts of insignificants that i can't think of right now. I have no list of lists though if that's what you're thinking. Mostly these lists are just lost rather than kept, proving the entire operation to be futile. I'd've been picked on more in high school for this, but there was someone else around with a worse list habit than mine. This habit fits with my desire to have everything organised, but being too lazy to do anything about it.
- fantasyland: Far too much of my time with my mind engaged in a sort of internal soap opera. While lying in bed i basically execute episodes largely of self-pity, and occasionally otherwise based on my fantasies. This entails fantasising about some of the primary things that i wish for in life. Love and sex for a large part. I put myself into a place where i have that sort of life love/soul mate sort of companionship for example. Where i can cuddle with a person who shares mutual desire and adoration with me, instead of filling that void with cuddling a pillow. Sometimes i retreat to my room specifically to engage in this fantasy world, and it's often difficult releasing myself from it.
an assortment of stray responses: - Numbers have specific colours to them in my mind.
- Excess energy/fidgetyness makes me need to get out of my chair and do a walk around the place often, especially at work.
- I usually take stairs 2 at a time, occasionally 3.
- I drink water constantly throughout the day (though i often forget to at work), and need to have water by me at night too.
- I will centre certain things or set them in what i consider a proper spot. For example, placing my pint in the dead centre of a coaster, and setting that coaster on a specific spot on a table or place mat.
- I've caught myself walking on the tips of my toes when walking downstairs barefoot at night for example, even though there is no need for this at all. I don't think it even saves on any noise.
- There's a particular position for my pillow under my head just filling in my neck, but having no part in accommodating my shoulders.
- I bite my nails so much. I'd bet that i have all you nail biters beat. I bite into bits of skin on my fingertips. I bite toenails sometimes too.
- I used to avoid things like cracks in the sidewalks, at least sometimes, and had other particular patterns to abide by. I've at least given up the sidewalk cracks thing mostly as i just can't be bothered, but it creeps in sometimes.
- I like to finish as near to the last little crumb when eating, and i like to include every bit i can when preparing food. For example, getting every last grain of rice from measuring cup to bowl to pot to plate, or every scrap of coffee out of the grinder. I think that there's a frugal tendency here that accounts for this, believing that i'm getting the most out of something.
- I almost never make my bed. Waste of time.
- My home cleanliness needs some major improvements to meet my own standards, but in some situations at least i am a bit verminophobic. I can't touch the kitchen garbage can without feeling a dire need to wash my hands. Also, i have to wash my hands after using the washroom anytime, anywhere. While this probably sounds like common sense, i have to say that i'm appalled by how often at least men don't wash their hands after using public facilities. I also hate when washroom facilities don't include hand soap and a means to dry one's hands.
- I have no idea how to drum, at least by any remotely formal measure, but i drum or tap my fingers on just about any hard surface. Usually with music playing out loud, but sometimes it's coming purely from my head.
Now it's your turn. I'm going to break from the rules slightly as i only have 6 LJ friends at the moment who haven't already done this. I don't want to leave just one person out. I tag:
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| lost + found |
[Dec. 9th, 2005|11:00 pm] |
A week ago, during the housemate moving frenzy that resulted in the uprooting of lots of dormant messes around the home, my glasses were found. The very pair that i had been orienting the past more than 2 months around the absence of. They were in need of repair, but both the frames, though bent, and one of the lenses were in approximately the same place. I was still holding on to the other lens. This demonstrates a new level or type of incompetence in me.
The specs were buried in a pile of paper, and behind some other stuff i believe (i wasn't their locator, that was the bro), but still in an obvious enough spot. A place that i feel that i surely would have checked. Somehow, in all my repeated searches, i missed these parts just waiting to be found. I'm still in some disbelief and denial about the fact that i have been going through quite an ordeal around glasses that i more or less simply misplaced. That i had delegated much of my work to others may now look like a scam. And the half-assed effort that i'd been putting into my radio program. I'm sorry. I do feel like quite a dumb-ass.
They were found just too late on a Saturday afternoon to get them to the repair shop right away, so that i'd have to wait until Monday morning to get them working again. So i was able to start this week with a return to my regular sort of usefulness (whatever it may be, it's more useful than the despectacled me). It is quite a relief and bucket of excitement to be able to sit these lenses on my face again. I even supposedly have new glasses coming to me, with government coverage, allowing me to avoid this situation by having a 2nd pair around. Though it is difficult to believe that the optician is ever going to bear fruit. |
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| we need more magnification |
[Nov. 29th, 2005|01:30 am] |
It is with irresponsible neglect that i haven't delivered the follow-up to the home situation. Wednesday of last week, the day after the confrontation, was a vast improvement over the few days leading up to it. Last Wednesday came with the news that the alcoholic house mate has found a place and will be able to move into it on December 3. I also got all the necessary paperwork from the government to cover my specs, which is now in the hands of the optician, and i finished my program promos for Suspended Particulate, which had a due date of about 2 weeks previous. The day was even a sunny break from the abundance of grey and rain, because god is all into that non-subtle symbolism stuff.
About the continuing, frustrating, and now outright ridiculous search for glasses, i paid another visit to Dr. Donothing a week before sunnygood Wednesday (bringing us to November 16) to inquire about the progress of the note explaining my medical need for an item that the optician had included on the estimate for the government. Someone at the front desk who didn't seem overly pleased to deal with me had nothing to hand me, but then asked me to have a seat. A little bit later there was a one sentence note on letterhead ready for me, which was obviously made up on the spot and made clear that without my visitation there was little intention to get this done for me. I had also checked in at the optician, which is in very close proximity to the opthalmologist's office to find that yes indeed the order hadn't arrived yet, and they had no answer and when exactly it would arrive.
The Friday following optical adventure Wednesday, the 18th, was filled with a culmination of many things that are a regular part of my days, but not usually summed into one day. Like most Fridays, i slept with the confidence that i could just sleep in until whenever as the only thing on the agenda for the day was to get to the Ontario Government Building located opposite the Kingston Centre. This is a regular monthly visit, but this time i would also be attempting to settle affairs of paperwork regarding presumably potential eyewear as well. I was nearly to the conclusion of my night's slumbers when i got a wake-up call at 11:45. The CFRC folks needed a technician for a CBC connection at 3:00 and i had no problem with doing it. This would require that i actually get started with my day though so that i could make the return trip to the government office and get to the radio station well before 3pm to be comfortably set up (learning from previous experiences) all after being able to take in coffee and breakfast in an unrushed manner. I think it was nearly 1:30 before i left the house on my trek to the govvy bureau, being a bit too casual with my morning activity timing. I handed the person at this desk a wad of photocopies in the name of taking care of my business with them. BehindDesk2000 immediately (which is a surprising and unexpected efficiency for this Friday afternoon bureaucratic situation) reported back that the amount of my prescription (on the estimate) was not fully covered, thus they would need to draft a note to take care of that. Meaning, by my interpretation, that there is a maximum amount of coverage on eyeglasses that may have been stated somewhere, but that somebody at this office can immediately write, or possibly even print a form letter on the spot so that the maximum doesn't actually apply. Well, i'm not sure that i understand what that was all about. I was even given the option to wait for the letter to come into existence and be able to walk out with it. In my poor timing, and with my impression that i need to be on campus by 2:30, however, i was not able to wait, and would have to make another journey back the following week to pick up the letter with the necessary forms.
Feeling pressed for time i didn't want to take on the chore of figuring how Kingston Transit might actually get me to where i needed to be, so i called for a cab, which is very rare for me. It's like giving in to a luxery which i feel simply can't be afforded until something near urgent or dire comes up. At $9 i got a ride with a cabbie who apparently was in training at CFRC at one point. He described what he was interested in programming at the station if he ever found the time to continue with it, which i had to admit sounded rather lame and unnecessary to me. His idea was to combine new and old rock, though it was apparent to me that he had probably very little awareness of anything rock beyond the 70s. He wanted to be able to put to the airwaves all of the things which are now supposedly forgotten on radio. He listed some Led Zeppelin and Dire Straits tracks as examples, which were clear illustrations to me that this guy hasn't dug too far at all, thus the absurd lack of need for such a program on the likes of campus/community radio. I had nothing against the guy or even the conversation, so i don't intend to be rude to or about him, it's just that i really can't grasp how people come to their particular thinking sometimes. It's almost as if he's never actually listened to CFRC or any other like-minded station.
At 2:30 i arrive to my 2nd home, the radio studios of CFRC to set up for some CBC action. Just when i have it set up i find out that they've thrown something new at me. Instead of situating the guest properly in the studio the guest had to sit beside me behind the board in the control room, as the sound in the studio was too poor because of reverberation resulting from the recent removal of sound insulation which hasn't yet been replaced in any form. This ultimately amounted to being stuck with in a room with a Conservative senator for nearly 45 minutes, only able to be as still and quiet in the chair next to him as i could be for his live to tape discussion panel participation with host Michael Enright. This was a far from ideal and awkward way to make things work, and i will push to make it not ever happen again. It's easy to get over slight discomforts like not having a proper place for the guest to sit at, but this set up meant that i was also behind a live mic and couldn't do something essential like answer the phone if anybody on the other end needed to communicate for any reason (which is normal), or leave the room for any reason. Other than, or perhaps despite that, everything went fine. No technical screw ups on my part this time. I even figured out the right codec to use on the ISDN machine. There's a little pat on my back. Way to go me.
That night i got to enjoy Theodore Twostep's Dandi Wind/Kids on TV production. You can't and we didn't go wrong with KoTV. Ok, i wasn't so sure about "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off" as a choice for coverage, but really, they're so swell. Dandilion was less scary than she could have been in that little Grad Club space. I probably could have stayed up front and not have gotten hurt. I really dig not getting hurt more than almost anything.
The next night (we're at Saturday the 19th now) i went to an 80s night. It's true, i really did. Voluntarily, more or less. I didn't dress up though as i've long since discarded of anything intentionally 80s that i actually had at the time. Mostly it seemed that everyone was able to let loose on the notion and have quite a bucket of tacky fun. Aslo, i'm sorry to Laura and all involved for the negativity that i exuded towards this event and am amazed at how warm an insistence you put into including me. Thanks a bunch, and it is wonderful that such a night was put together with such success.
I've now taken all forms, letters, prescription and i possibly can't even remember what all to the optician on Thursday who still hasn't delivered on the goods. I suppose i have a situation where i'm locked in for this particular purchase now, but which leads me to want at least an explanation as to why these lenses can't yet be places on my face for me to consider coming to this place again.
I can't figure out how to wrap articulation around how i've been built up to feel on this glasses issue. This must be the most ridiculous bureaucratic and perhaps medical neglect situation to drag on that...i don't know...can be...or something. It feels like i've used the excuse of not having glasses for too often and for too long now. Someone else doing many of my primary work tasks for me has been going on for so many weeks that it has become unfortunatly normal now. My dependencies and inadequacies from lacking an essential tool are particulary annoying, frustrating and i'm pretty sure some other terms too that frustro-annoyed articulation won't let me at right now. |
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| skank in the rain |
[Nov. 9th, 2005|12:15 am] |
[from a couple of days ago]
prologue: Skankbrella
I made an opportunist find on a particular rainy day the last time i was in Toronto, which was for The White Stripes show. While Heather, my show companion and transportation to TO, and i were the only ones on the streetcar i spotted on the seat behind me an abandoned red umbrella. Skankbrella was born of the unawareness of this object's history, leaving me timid about its fabric, not really wanting it to touch me. However, the ample employment
that this umbrella has received this fall may have washed away the worth of that name. As i headed out tonight i have been able to once again enjoy the effectiveness of the first umbrella that i have ever owned (or claimed).
chapter (soundwalking the rain)
I've been needing a little aimless walk around the streets for a bit, so with boredom approaching i finally headed out the door, instead of just lying on my bed again thinking about doing things. I enjoy the sound of rain hitting things, which gave me a second cause to enjoy being under an umbrella. I noticed this, and how many different sounds are involved in rain falling on city streets as i headed away from my house. I passed an area on the sidewalk that was covered in leaves, producing much more auditory sensation than when rain simply falls on the cement. Seemed to my sense that there was the sound of streams trickling though the leaves in addition to the impact of the drops. I headed off of my street to walk by the park, stepping directly in a puddle as i did a couple of times during my journey giving myself a soaker to enjoy for the duration of my walk. I headed down streets noting that everything is seemingly marked by a signature sound. Rain against different surfaces. Water falling from roofs, and from eaves troughs. Turning a corner would enter me into something different sonically. The proximity of buildings was an easily noticeable influence on how things sounded. I walked on down a few different residential streets landing myself on a busier traffic passage for a short while. I knew that vehicular domination of sound wasn't what i was as interested in. I kept on into nearly emptied streets for a bit, but the precipitation was thinning. I was a bit disappointed in having the fogginess dissolve to clarity, and mostly the sound of the rain furiously rapping against my 'brellie and everything else calmed to a light mist. I kept spinning my 'brella even after the weather suggested that i probably didn't really need it any longer. As protective as this new found instrument of rain dissuasion is, i came home with a need to change my socks and pants. Better footwear would surely do a lot here.
epilogue
It's a bit outside of my personality to be anything approaching flamboyant, but something like a walk alone in the rain can bring out an urge to want to sing and skip along. Moves i'd probably never make anyhow if any number of my friends were around, but it's further kept in check by the idea of being noticed by people who might not see a male gaily traversing the streets so favourably. Probably something that's just in my head, but a slight fear brought on by always living in redneck places perhaps. I do find twirling that umbrella about irresitable however. |
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| oh damn, is seeing believing? |
[Nov. 5th, 2005|08:55 pm] |
The fumes left over from the painting in my house are not having a good impact on me, so i had to get away from that. It's been days since the repair person was here, but these stubborn paint fumes are lingering. We need to be taking better advantage of this warm weather and open some windows, though that is certain to result in complaints about the coldness. The people here seem somehow to not notice or not care, but i think i will be completely nauseated with probable headache if i stay in this space too much more. So i am now typing this at the Goat on a keyboard that looks something like Speak and Spell meets USB technology, all the while not being able to see what i'm typing (that's heavy editing in the post studio), as i'm still waiting for spectacles that should be in early in this coming week. I've rarely wanted something so much, as this inability to read is driving me mad, or at least often times to boredom. But i'm not going to hold my breath for their arrival, because, well, who knows if it will work out that they are ready on time. Also, along the lines of updating on that post, i'm still waiting to hear back from the doctor about the note stating that something on the estimate is indeed medically necessary. When i dropped by the office a few days ago i found out that this doctor is on holidays again, and that my request is still waiting in a pile. Also, i think the office is now closed on Thursdays as well as Fridays. If only i could just show my seemingly simple request to someone who could make a quick assessment of it and just stamp or have someone sign something.
My neglect to my own intentions means that i've no doubt lost some of the immediate thoughts on the things i wanted to mention, such as The Hidden Cameras/Lesbians on Ecstasy show. I will mention that i think they are just amazing at executing an entertainment plan from a stage. Mostly, a Journal article already takes care of describing that, but throwing Gentleman Reg in the line-up somehow adds to the fun for me, even if i didn't really see him doing anything in particular. I'd seen the Lezzies 2 or 3 timea previously, and the Cameras once, but i'd never actually *seen* them before. Getting right up to the front in the very intimate Grad Club space meant that for the first time i actually saw what LoE looks like, and caught things like the fact that they have a non-electronic instrument in the band - a real live, and heavily worked bass. I had assumed that their entire sound was somehow electronically created/manipulated. Also, i didn't know about using drumsticks on a crazy flat top drum machine thing (octopad?). It really does, i have to admit, make a great difference.
It brings into question my perspective on the Broken Social Scene show. How much of a difference would it have made to my experience if i could actually have seen anything that was happening on the stage? It seems quite sad to me if a music show isn't essentially about the sound, but is the, y'know, *show* in a show perhaps somehow essential to, what it's all about for people? I'd actually really like to know people's thoughts on this, as sometimes i really just don't have any sense. You'd certainly think i'd have myself, and how i relate and perhaps experience things differently from others somewhat figured out by this point in my life, but i've only just recently been digging into this line of thought. The introspective posts shall begin to pour.
Last Sunday a few of us did have a great time bowling. It was supposed to be in costume, but the only people who made an effort in that regard were the couple of non-CFRC people at this radio social function. I think there were about 9 of us in total, and we had the entire bowling alley to ourselves. I think that in itself is utterly awesome. It was a place in the east end of the city, by or in the base - an area almost completely unfamiliar to me. It was also my first time ever at 5 pin. By fluke i won the first game, but then the others on my lane got better.
That evening a few of us partook of some "Dark Side of the Rainbow" business. There were no drugs involved by the way. An exercise of looking for synchronicities, through often losing interest in the search, and finding belief instead that you could probably find something similar by aligning nearly any music and visual. Still though, some of the coincidences were amazing. One of those things that i suppose you just have to try once. I hadn't seen that movie since i was a kid, when it used to be on (non-cable) TV every year. I hadn't heard that album probably since just after high school.
Controller.Controller also managed to be quite enjoyable. Having seen them 3 times before i had only gone because a friend was in town and hoping to catch a some live music while here. Turned out that the friend had to leave because she was sick, and i stayed behind like a jerk. Sorry Safina. The result though: a good show with a bit of a sad ending. It's been nicely written up, so i don't need to repeat. |
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| i adore food + there's a hole in my room |
[Nov. 1st, 2005|01:58 am] |
It's so good to have you back in the house again Soya Sauce. I don't know why we remained separated for so long. Was it a fight that had started it? I really don't remember now, and i think it just doesn't matter. What's important is that we are able to be together and enjoy each other again. I've learned at least how i value you and don't wish for something like this to happen again.
If it was about becoming bored with the manner in which we proceeded then i want you to know that i think i've learned some new ways of doing things, and i'd really like to try them with you when we're together some time. Soon. I would be interested in learning much more if it seems that this works out to our mutual delight.
Seems to me that couscous should have been claimed by the bachelor set by now. It's as instant as most prepared microwave meals, taking barely any longer to cook that the time it takes to boil a cup or two of water. It can be thrown alongside many things, or at least nearly any vegetables. It's leftover friendly. It's cheap, at least when bought from the bulk bin (of, say, a natural food store).
For over a year now (at least i'm fairly certain) us residents where i live have been trying to get at least some of the more pressing repair needs for this house taken care of and it has finally been under way for the past few weeks (as noted in an entry from just over a month ago). For some time we not just wondered to ourselves if the jobs that were started were going to be finished, but we also phoned the property manager to ask about this (with friendly and diplomatic tone of course). In the past week we've been able to enjoy having the stress of frustration and such resolve to an excited satisfaction as all of the major repairs are nicely in process of being finalized. One situation however, despite being possibly just days now from being fixed, scared the bejesus out of me in at 5:25 (by the only just reinstated standard time) in the morning of a couple of days ago by finally exploding the weight of its rot across part of my room, even up to my bed. The sound of some creaking or peeling was slowly waking me up i think, but did nothing to make me expect the loud pop and sounds of my room falling in that followed. With a bit of shock i shouted some variation on "Jesus, shit!", before collecting myself enough to turn on the light and determine that the point in my ceiling that leaks when it rains had finally given up. It didn't take a serious inspection of the situation to know that it was merely a matter of time. The rain had driven the structure to some serious dilapidation. Paint that had fallen off in large chunks, plaster that had cracked open like barren earth in a drought. The situation only became accelerated with those furious winds that we had a few weeks back, which took some shingles off of our roof thus seeming to be the cause of the leak picking up quite a bit for this month's ample rain supply.
Although large chunks of somewhat heavy, rotten building material with some sawdust/insulation? material that i can only guess about were strewn on the floor and a bit elsewhere, nothing really got hurt otherwise. It did seem quite obvious that i wouldn't want to keep anything of value greater than a couple of buckets in that area of the room.
Only one other person in the house at the time even heard any of this. |
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| despectacled |
[Oct. 25th, 2005|01:10 am] |
Must be over a month now since i lost my specs. I recall not situating my already deteriorating glasses shortly after the White Stripes trip. It's been a long, frustrating search since i made that early attempt at finding an optician who could assess my situation. In that case minimal effort consisted of looking into a couple of options on a Friday afternoon. I just figured that none of these regular glasses dispensaries was going to be able to do anything with my eyes. I had waited as long as i had to even bother with looking into replacement spectacles as i was holding out on the possibility of finding the pair that i'd so unfortunately lost. After all, i lose things all the time and they often resurface days later. My next step would be to contact my doctor, the ophthalmologist, after the weekend (as that office is closed on Fridays). Attempting to get anything from this particular doctor's office has been a very arduous process. They very often don't answer the phone at all, and they don't return messages, assuming leaving a message is even possible as their voice mail box was sometimes full. I know that i gave up on phoning them and just stopped into the place at the next opportunity. They actually hadn't ever made out any of my previous eyeglass prescriptions, but i was hoping that they'd have the right information on file as they are responsible for my contacts plus i have regular eye exams there for various reasons. I thought that i'd attempt to set up an appointment for an assessment, as who else would i turn to? This was the beginning of a series of attempted appointments for which i went through numerous delays, or just had little luck getting any response from this office at all. In the next couple of weeks through painfully slow communication and misunderstandings they managed to come up with a prescription. I went down that clinic as soon as i could, but with doubts.
This first prescription turned out to be based on a misunderstanding of what my glasses were actually needed for, and was actually from the only thing that i believe they had on file, an assessment made by someone else when i was 17 (i.e., in 1990). It seemed that it would have been quite unwise to take that Rx and get it filled. This lead to me telling them that i had had an assessment of the same sort as the one they were basing this on in 2002, which is where my most recent pair had come from. They told me that i should have that Rx faxed to them. This was a Thursday. We set an appointment for the following Tuesday to deal with the results.
Of course the notion of more directly following up on my previous prescription makes a lot of sense, but i turned to this doctor first figuring that having some place local, and who knows me might be the quickest. I was also running with the assumption that dealing with them wasn't going to be so convoluted. Also, perhaps a bit idealistically, i thought that the last prescription could be improved on. There was a point in the assessment where i was offered a choice about which magnification level i preferred on the bifocal, and i soon afterwards thought that i had made the wrong choice. No matter now. I was becoming desperate for glasses, having great difficulty with reading what printed text i could read at all, and unable to do essential parts of my job. By Tuesday the appointment was delayed, and i didn't hear from the doctor's office in the following days. The next Monday the person who answered the phone said that the doctor wasn't in that day, but speculated that he probably had taken my file home with him for the weekend. Finally on Wednesday i am told that they have the Rx ready, which i'm fairly certain is a direct copy of the one made in 2002. The appointment that i kept trying to make happen, and which kept being delayed, wasn't necessary. I took this Rx to the optician immediately.
It currently stands at a probable 2 weeks before my specialty lenses will be ready. I still have the government bureaucracy to deal with so as i can be at least partially covered. I take the details to to the govvy office last Friday to find out that they don't like something that the optometrist included on the estimate, and now i have to get a note from the ophthalmologist stating that this whatever is medically necessary. That brings me back to doc slowness for another round. I can at least still get glasses even if i have to pay in full up front. I suppose even if in never receive a penny government coverage. |
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| Guy vs. Vet |
[Oct. 22nd, 2005|03:38 am] |
Guy le Chat spent yesterday at the vet. All tolled, it's been a tough time for kitty these past few months. The emergency attention lead to him getting caught up on my years of neglect at taking him to the vet. It took a few visits in the weeks following his urinary tract blockage to sort out his shots, and subsequent infection. In this time the cat become almost violently objectionable to receiving bitter antibiotic pills, but had little objection to an overhaul of his diet other than he would have preferred a bit more of it.
One result of getting Guy thoroughly checked out is discovering that he had to have his teeth cleaned. This involved anaesthetising him again, so that a disgusting thickness of tartar and plaque could be removed. It didn't involve removing any teeth however, with cavities being a serious threat in that situation. Le Chat is now back with very noticeably whiter dental works, plus better breath, but also back into another week of medications. Another week of forcing pills into a mouth that has no intention of being pried open, as well as the added fun of drops for any eye that he managed to scratch, and a wash for acne on his chin. He also gets another dietary change, with an attempt to feed him only something dry. He's been surprisingly alright about having no wet food so far, but i wonder if the prescribed amount to feed him is too little. A lesson too: don't ever start a cat on wet food. Once it knows about the option, there may be no return, and that shit is bad for allowing bacteria to thrive in the kitty's mouth.
Who knew that cats over 7 years old are considered geriatric? Not me at least. I hope this doesn't amount to a non-stop series of infections and injuries and their related meds from now on. Guy at least seemed to recover quite well from another veterinary episode, having none of the possible problems that the vet mentioned, and almost able to vocalise normally again (not sounding feeble from a tube that scratched his throat as part of the operational procedure). |
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| really Broken Social Scene |
[Oct. 20th, 2005|10:16 pm] |
Hype probably isn’t the word, but there certainly was a lot of praise going around for how amazing a Broken Social Scene show is. I really like their music, and had my own expectations besides what was built on the word of people in the know. I am, however, very disappointed after the show that i got at the gaudy Grant Hall Wednesday (Oct. 19) night. Thing is, i don’t think i would even know if it was the band’s fault in any way. The sound in this space was terrible enough to cancel probably any effort being made from the stage.
There wasn’t very much to actually engage with on New Buffalo’s sound that was echoing around the auditorium in a barely cohesive manner when i got there. I certainly noticed right away that the sound was unusually bad, but that it was perhaps her soloness that was just too small to fill this echo chamber.
Broken Social Scene’s largeness (and i’m not calling them fat) didn’t fare any better. It was just louder. I’d even say too loud. What was being output was a rumble of distortion from which enough of what they were creating emerged to identify recognisable songs, but mostly only in a distanced via the reverberation effect manner. It’s terrible that the band’s efforts were eliminated because of the venue, or possibly because of Kingston Soundworks, but i’ll never have a clear sense of what their performance was actually like. This may be the worst sound that i’ve heard at any show that i’ve ever been to. It probably is amazing that a BSS show could be so botched, and i'm still quite interested in catching them on much better terms.
In recent days i’ve been taking advantage of a concentration of interesting performances. On Monday (Oct. 17) night another band that i’d worked up a lot of expectations for, Les Angles Morts, delivered a brief set that felt like an intense concentration. As great as it was it was still ridiculously short. I also arrived too early and caught another band from Montreal that i think the crowd had a unanimous feeling about. Rather than say terrible, i could say that i think people gave up on the show because of them despite how early they were on.
I made it to 2 out of 3 nights of this year’s Tone Deaf festival, missing only the Friday performance that happened outdoors, which was the one that i was most interested in, but that’s the way timings and such work out sometimes. I think i’ve caught at least one show from each of the 4 years of Tone Deaf. Each of Saturday and Sunday nights featured improvisational works followed by a video oriented piece. On Saturday, Clive Robertson’s piece was very visual-centric, which i thought was curious for a festival oriented around audio. Much of the piece, especially the minutes that passed with only text on the screen were lost on me. Sunday’s video series was more visible and made for an enveloping experience for both the visual and auditory senses. I may have lost 5 years of hearing on it, but i enjoyed the intensity. The space was a bit too cramped for comfort as well.
Enough nights of going out to something were taking their toll on me, and i was too exhausted to go to the Exclaim! thing at The Grad Club Tuesday night. I regret not seeing Shout Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out Out… [shit, i got caught] and Fembots now. [The number of “Out”s after “Shout” on that band’s name is entirely ridiculous, so what to do?]
Shortly i will be off to see what Deadly Snakes and Tangiers are all about. Wish me luck. |
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| I became obnoxious. Then what? |
[Oct. 1st, 2005|03:24 am] |
Then i cut my finger is what. Karma.
To make entirely too large a point of a small passing incident, it's the sort of thing that i can't believe i did immediately after it was done. Instead of just being annoyed by drunken audience shoutings, i decided to join that spirit and add my own. I was prompted by the shouting to play Dire Straits specifically. It doesn't justify my returning something about the opening act, The Old Soul, being ten times better than Cuff the Duke, but at the same time, Dire freakin' Straits. Can you imagine much worse or more obnoxious than that? Ok, i know that you can, but such should be cause for bouncer action just the same. I feel both ridiculous and very uncouth for my retort, and wish that the action could be rescinded. What can i say but not again.
All that being said, it's true that so many things are 10 times better than Cuff, but who's counting? I already knew that they don't really work on album, plus their illusions of grandeur don't help matters either. But i also experienced a mighty fine performance from them at the Wolfe Island Music Festival. For tonight's show, The Old Soul were easily the highlight, though i don't think the audience could remove themselves from the illusions they've been sold on Cuff the Duke enough to admit that. Although, despite that statement, the best thing about the show was how much the audience was into it. This made for the fun while Cuff were on.
Actually, on further inspection, the best thing about the show was being there with friends. I took in 5 shows in a row last week, and none of them were too bad, most quite good in fact. But they mostly missed that element of going to a show with someone, which is just more of a determining factor about how much the night can be enjoyed than probably anything else. For the past few days Chris, now a.k.a. Master Chan has been in town. It's definitely time to get the excite on when a friend returns for a bit. In these few days Chris has managed to defend and finally submit her thesis, putting a sudden end to that part of her academic career, followed by finding a place to stay in Victoria for her next installment in academia. That is, so much for her has been finalised and sorted out in this current short visit to Kingston, and you can send her all sorts of congratulatories for her accomplishments. Anyhow, if i can get off this tangent without hurting myself, i'd say that Chris and i made plans to take in this show tonight at The Grad Club, though neither of us were overly stoked for it, and though speaking for someone else is not just unnecessary, but rude, i think we ended up feeling about the same way about the show afterwards. We actually got there quite early to secure our place, and quickly decided that hanging out with Laura and her friend were much more interesting than waiting in some other room, so we basically heckled the merch girls all night. |
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| what do toilets, glasses, pants, computers, tubas, buses and stripes have in common? |
[Sep. 24th, 2005|03:25 am] |
Yesterday i got up to a toilet out of service. This positioned me in an endurance test, in which i had to wait until i got to work before i could use a washroom. Definitely on the opposite end from ideal for a post slumber situation, but it meant that we were finally getting some response to the repairs that we had been requesting for a while. The workplace was being a jerk yesterday anyhow. More specifically, computers were against me. Being without email or printing access was compounding on my lost spectacles situation to just make for frustration and a beyond usual level of non-productivity. I'm currently making use of a "pair" of glasses which are quite uncomfortable. I'm not sure how old they are, and they're basically too small. My head (re: ego) has grown since i guess. My eyelash brushes against the lens. Also i use the term "pair" quite loosely (re: wrong) as these are missing the left lens, which incidentally was the last state of my recently lost pair. I've been discovering that finding the way to a new eyeglasses prescription is difficult. No doctors seemed to be in this afternoon, and i just don't know what because these things seem to just work out through normal doctor visits, but this time i need a replacement pronto. No glasses = i'm (even more) useless. It's a bureaucratic path to a new pair though, at least if i want government coverage (which i do).
As i write this my pants will no longer stay on. Down with pants. Actually, i secretly busted my button on these trousers while i was at the radio station for a short while this afternoon. I was still good to go, and no one had to be the wiser. I said nothing to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) countercult at the time. Tonight, in the comfort of my own home, i somehow managed to bust the fly, and the pantaloons now just hang off my waist if i don't give them some extra attention. It's just that image that i felt compelled to share with all y'all.
On the live shows from the past couple of days, which i've seen very few recognisable faces at:
B.A. Johnston is awesome. He's such a performer, and even despite the rave reviews i've heard of his shows, it was more than i expected. I was also a bit surprised to find a pretty packed crowd at Clark, though i didn't know what to expect of a computing smoker. That audience knew his stuff and loved him. That was awesome. This show was also only Tomate Potate number 2 for me, even though they've now done 17 536 and i have so little reason for not being there more. If i remember, circumstances just kept not working out last year. TP, as it pretty much goes without saying, are awesome too, although i did not stay to the end of their headlining set. I would also like to thank doctor_nich for just saying hello to me since he was the only person at that show that i know (well, Devon a little). There was another band which was not Electric Mayhem (?). That night was another tough push through going to a show alone in a very student situation. I only knew slightly more people at the Drums & Tuba show the next night, but i think somehow the isolation is much less severe in a place like the Elixir, which seems strange to me since it's essentially a nightclub. What can you do but just go out to shows and such regardless. It sounds good in theory at least.
I think that i was fairly enthralled by the sounds that Drums & Tuba were outputting. Even with toilet paper to comfort the ears, they sent me home with ringing. Just the same, there was a nice amount of layers to take in. 3 members in the band, but the tuba player (tubist?) does a lot of live sampling/looping/general re-working of the sound, some of which would be similar to how Owen Pallett slices it for Final Fantasy.
This afternoon i checked out a free show that's part of this year's Kingston Jazz Festival. It was a band from The Netherlands that has been touring Canada and the US (though i guess they've done this in many other parts too) in a bus. Nothing unusual about touring in a bus, but this was a stage bus. This also has probably been done before, but i've never seen it. It, to utterly overuse a term today, was awesome. Everything was included in there. Some set pieces, amplification, lighting, the musicians, and even a baby freakin' grand. They must have to tune that sucker for every show. The music was pretty good too. I stuck around for the first set only, but mostly pretty upbeat. The only unfortunate part of the show was that the audience was staring into the sun, and the sun burns too. Oh, their name, which i never remember (so here's cut&paste to take care of it): Luluk Purwanto & the Helsdingen Trio.
one more thing:
A week ago i saw The White Stripes at the Molson Ampitheatre (Ontario Place). I paid a ridiculous amount of money for the ticket, which, if you'd like to know, was $55. That's the most i've ever paid for a show, but i mostly thought what the hell, and gave it a try. I suppose that their show was alright, but i am measuring it agiainst 55 bux, so i kinda want more than that. There was cool demonic red lighting sometimes though. The sound at that venue is terrible. It seems to emphasise the talking of their stupid jock fans enough though. It was a fun little day, though that may be because i didn't have to do any of the driving through the rain and finding places with uncertainly. Thanks for getting me there and back Heather, with a good amount of enjoyment. Thanks also to Chris Chan for guiding our confused asses and going out of your way ot meet up with us. |
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