Tuesday, July 22, 2003
The last several days have been the kind that make one wonder what is wrong with oneself. It started, I guess, when I drank a fair bit at Kristi's party Saturday night -- but not really, b/c I'd been lazy (procrastinating about writing my Phx piece) Thurs. and Fri. as well. Sunday's hangover (more stomach than head) proved I can't really drink -- weirdly, the main task I accomplished was physical labor, moving crates of records into roughly alphabetical order. Also culled about 200 pieces of vinyl to sell, very little of it eBay material. I guess that was useful, but it wasn't exactly 'what I should be doing.' I did manage to read -The Ugly American- over the course of the weekend.
[Oh yes, Brand Library book sale Saturday, spend about 50 bucks on books and records, about a third of which I immediately sold to Amoeba, maybe turned a slight profit but not much. Best finds were a one-sided LP by The Function (Free Designish pop from out of nowhere), a John Cale/Patti Smith bootleg, -Collected Lyrics of Ira Gershwin- for $4, and a bag of decent litmags for a quarter a piece.)
Monday's class went well (introduced quantifiers), but I needed another nap when I got home, and woke up to email from The Voice about my piece -- grammatical problem with the opening sentence, which took a while to fix to my satisfaction. That was all I accomplished nothing between coming home at 3 and leaving for radio at 6:45. Mark & Berit Givens, who have just moved back to Claremont, showed up at the station, and I went for one drink w/ them afterwards. I don't really know why I didn't have coffee -- one Manhattan and I wasn't drunk but did want a burrito. (Playlist in previous post.) Played The Lucksmiths' "There Is A Boy Who Never Goes Out" repeatedly on drive home.
Today has been even more useless; woke up at a decent hour, but dorked around on Friendster and started, unwisely, another Patricia Highsmith novel that I couldn't put down. (-Edith's Diary-; 'arms of Murphy' for 'arms of Morpheus'; interesting metaphor set up between pulling out of Vietnam and a marriage.) Rael dropped by -- as soon as someone comes in, I notice the untidiness I live in much more vividly. I assume if my physical surroundings were better-ordered, so would my work be. Now I feel -really- behind, as I need to do the Senor Coconut review, the Phx column and the Eastside Sinfonetta piece before the weekend. Nonetheless, meeting Bree for pre-Code flick w/ Herbert Marshall at 7.
Just not feeling right. Will have to prep class in a.m. again.
song title: Plate Discipline. Oh, I was wrong -- on Kid A, Yorke's vocals do get screwed with. But I still don't like them (the vocals).
[Oh yes, Brand Library book sale Saturday, spend about 50 bucks on books and records, about a third of which I immediately sold to Amoeba, maybe turned a slight profit but not much. Best finds were a one-sided LP by The Function (Free Designish pop from out of nowhere), a John Cale/Patti Smith bootleg, -Collected Lyrics of Ira Gershwin- for $4, and a bag of decent litmags for a quarter a piece.)
Monday's class went well (introduced quantifiers), but I needed another nap when I got home, and woke up to email from The Voice about my piece -- grammatical problem with the opening sentence, which took a while to fix to my satisfaction. That was all I accomplished nothing between coming home at 3 and leaving for radio at 6:45. Mark & Berit Givens, who have just moved back to Claremont, showed up at the station, and I went for one drink w/ them afterwards. I don't really know why I didn't have coffee -- one Manhattan and I wasn't drunk but did want a burrito. (Playlist in previous post.) Played The Lucksmiths' "There Is A Boy Who Never Goes Out" repeatedly on drive home.
Today has been even more useless; woke up at a decent hour, but dorked around on Friendster and started, unwisely, another Patricia Highsmith novel that I couldn't put down. (-Edith's Diary-; 'arms of Murphy' for 'arms of Morpheus'; interesting metaphor set up between pulling out of Vietnam and a marriage.) Rael dropped by -- as soon as someone comes in, I notice the untidiness I live in much more vividly. I assume if my physical surroundings were better-ordered, so would my work be. Now I feel -really- behind, as I need to do the Senor Coconut review, the Phx column and the Eastside Sinfonetta piece before the weekend. Nonetheless, meeting Bree for pre-Code flick w/ Herbert Marshall at 7.
Just not feeling right. Will have to prep class in a.m. again.
song title: Plate Discipline. Oh, I was wrong -- on Kid A, Yorke's vocals do get screwed with. But I still don't like them (the vocals).
