October 16, 2011

Recent Acquisitions



Jens Lekman, who I've been in love with since Ashley first played this song for me in her NEW (at the time) honda



What I REALLY wanted to put was my favorite (for now) song from her new album Metals, "The Bad in Each Other"... but since apparently it doesn't exist online you'll have to settle for this.  Chickens, just back from the shore.



Hamburgers.  Pool Party.



One of my favorite singers, this is from her newest album Passengers.  It's funny now to think, based on the first song that I'd ever heard her sing, I thought she only had sort of sad, pretty songs.  But seriously, some of them are full rock-outs.



And because I'm feeling the need to force the season


AND, if anyone would care to borrow a book (you can even read it before me if you want!)




June 8, 2011

Neil Gaiman loves Gail Carson Levine, too

I like to read.  And when I read, the subject often varies, but my goal is to escape.  That is why I dislike non-fiction, at least at the moment.  Recently, I read a poem where one of my favorite authors paid a nice compliment to another of my favorite authors.  It's okay if you don't know what it is, you'll enjoy it anyways.

  


Instructions, by Neil Gaiman

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path.
A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted
front door,
as a knocker,
do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.
Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat
nothing.
However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,
feed it.
If it tells you that it is dirty,
clean it.
If it cries to you that it hurts,
if you can,
ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the
wild wood.
The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's
realm;
there is another land at the bottom of it.
If you turn around here,
you can walk back, safely;
you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the
wood.
The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-
growth.
Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She
may ask for something;
give it to her. She
will point the way to the castle.
Inside it are three princesses.
Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.
In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve
months sit about a fire,
warming their feet, exchanging tales.
They may do favors for you, if you are polite.
You may pick strawberries in December's frost.
Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where
you are going.
The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-
man will take you.
(The answer to his question is this:
If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to
leave the boat.
Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.
Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that
witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.
Know that diamonds and roses
are as uncomfortable when they tumble from
one's lips as toads and frogs:
colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.
Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped
to help you in their turn.
Trust dreams.
Trust your heart, and trust your story.
When you come back, return the way you came.
Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.
Do not forget your manners.
Do not look back.
Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).
Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).
Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is
why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your
journey started,
you will recognize it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden gate
you never saw before but once.
And then go home. Or make a home.
And rest.

June 4, 2011

May 4, 2011

Will you stop making fun of my for loving Fleetwood Mac now, Mom??


Probably not haha.  She just hates Stevie's voice, so what can you do?  Won't stop me. 

One thing I can say for Glee - sometimes they improve songs.  Usually they make them worse, or just do an okay impression, but sometimes they get a really great interpretation.  "Songbird" was that song this time - frankly, I think it was better than the original.  

Kristin Chenoweth sang "Dreams" and it was actually pretty awful; her voice is not suited at all to this music - she's operatic, and Stevie sounds like she just got done chain-smoking right before she sings.  Which is why it's great haha.

I could now dive into the basic reasons why I think Glee is the coolest show ever - not because they are all fantastic (or in some cases, even mediocre) singers, but because they're teaching a younger generation about all of this fantastic music that they'd never IN A MILLION YEARS listen to on their own - but I won't haha.  I'll just say that Santana did a great job this week!  Oh and I wish they'd played one of my favorite Fleetwood Mac songs from Rumours, The Chain, but hey you can't get everything.


March 17, 2011

I'm sure you've already guessed that I'm going to this.


Just read the summary and try NOT to think of how awesome it'll be.  Pretty hard, right?  No, but seriously I hope they do a scene from "Postcards" because that would SLAY me.

February 19, 2011

World Press Photo


The World Press Photo winners have been selected, here's the link.  I really loved this one, of a Russian cadet. 

January 4, 2011

the night BEFORE the night that we slept on a park bench and a guy peed in the bushes next to me and offered me beer from a plastic bag

Everyone else's memory is of THE night.  THE night when we missed our train and slept on a bench in a park.  But my best memory is of the night before THE night.

Did I ever tell you that I watched Slumdog Millionaire with 2 Norwegian guys in a 40 seat theater at the back of a hostel in Barcelona at 1 in the morning?  I think I have, but who cares.  Nobody's forcing you to read this.

It was the most insignificant thing; I was tired and Pau and Angie wanted to use the computers at Kiah and Susan's hostel before we headed back.  We had to take the subway to get to our place on the outskirts of the city and nobody would have contact with family for a few days.  Literally the only reason we'd stopped there was because Paulina and Angelina were homesick; I was perfectly happy wandering around Spain aimlessly.  In my mind, what was a few extra days, or even weeks?  It's strange how you almost forget that home exists.

Well, I'd gone into the "computer room", checked my email, and chatted with my sister for about 10 minutes.  Funny how quickly we ran out of things to say - this was literally every conversation that we had while I was gone:

"hey"
"hey"
"what's up?"
"not much.  It's hot."
"it's hot here too, even at night.  how's work?"
"it's good.  Julie [her boss] and I went out to lunch today and then to the container store."
"that sounds fun.  did you buy anything?"
"no, I'm fucking poor."
"oh, that sucks."
"yeah.  so where are you?"
"[Insert the place that I am].  It's beautiful.  [Insert name of random roommate] is being crazy, though."
"that sucks.  what did she do?"
"[Insert crazy thing that she did]."
"you want me to tell her to stop being so fucking crazy?"
"no, I'll figure something out.  I'm gonna go, I'm pretty tired."
"k."
"say hi to mom and dad for me."
"k."
"love you."
"love you, too."

- or maybe it's just that we didn't need to say a lot.  We could talk about experiences later; you don't want to reminisce too early - it ruins the fun of actually doing something.

So I told them I was done (some crazy brit wanted to use the comp anyways) and that I'd be next door; it sounded like Transformers was playing or something, maybe I could take a nap in there - at least it was dark.

But when I walked in, it was something completely different.  I was instantly engrossed.  The darkness didn't have the effect I'd imagined - instead of dulling my senses I was wide awake.  Sounds were louder, smells stronger, colors brighter.  I sat, and I watched, and I thought about the time I'd spent away and the things that I'd dome.  I thought about my friends and my plans and my finances.  And then I finally thought about me, about how I felt at that moment, at that exact moment.

I had a feeling of complete transcendence; here I was, a Mexican-American, sitting in a hostel in Spain with Norwegians watching a film that took place in India where they spoke Hindi and English.

Have you ever wanted to take a moment and put it in a bottle and seal it air-tight, so that when you got it out again it was just as fresh as when you put it in?  It's more that a photo or a mental image; it's feeling the same way, exactly, as you did when you were in the moment.  I finally did it, and hearing this music is all that I need to bring it up again.

Someone remind me to look up this night in my diary; maybe I'll post my entry.