Saturday, June 18, 2005

my life is random

Which is suppose is why I am so addicted to the 'shuffle' feature on my Zen player. I simply love that vaguely discordant feeling when Sean Paul's 'Make You Clap,' is followed by Van Morrison's 'Tupelo Honey,' which is followed by a wicked Metric song, which is followed by 'Tomorrow' from the Annie soundtrack, which is followed by Tegan and Sara, which is followed by CCR's 'Down on the Corner,' which is followed by The Righteous Brothers' 'Unchained Melody,' and so on.

Short of hearing Rage Against the Machine followed by Madonna, and Marilyn Manson followed by Hilary Duff, I don't think that things could get more entertaining.

I had a nice conversation with Carrie over lunch today. She's had a rough life from the sounds of it. All three of her children were born very severely disabled, both mentally and physically, and one of them still lives in a group home. I would have a seriously tough time dealing with that if it happened to me. I really admire her strength, her ability to be optimistic no matter what the circumstances, and her dogged persistence. She isn't bitter about the fact that she's basically devoted 30 years of her life to other people. She told me about this brilliant sign on a church (possibly the first ever brilliant sign on a church!) that said: Living well is the best revenge. I agree wholehearedly with that statement.

Now Carrie''s finally living for herself, and I think that's why she seems so young at heart to me. People who actually are as young as I am have the luxury of being utterly selfish and self-absorbed, because they tend to have fewer responsibilities and even fewer people who are actually dependent on them.

This is why I keep burning cds for her by young musicians like Fiona Apple and Jeff Buckley and Beck. I want to show her that young people are not all obnoxious upstarts like me. Some of them have very real talent and drive, and they've accomplished remarkable things all on their own.

Take Fiona Apple, for instance. She was raped by a complete stranger on her way home when she was only twelve years old. It clearly scarred her the most horrible way imaginable. One need only to listen to 'Sullen Girl' to get that feeling from her music. But she wrote and released Tidal -- her first album and a beautiful piece of work completely driven by her own piano compositions and vocals -- when she was barely 19 years old. She writes all her songs herself -- none of this co-writing bullshit. She's continued to stay true to herself and has refused to sell out, even when it meant that Sony wouldn't release her third album. I admire the hell out of her.

Work was mad today. Simply, utterly, fucking mad. The weekends in the lead-up to Harry Potter madness have been completely overrun with people going to birthday parties, pre-paying for their copies of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, picking up summer reading, and invoicing the last school books for the end of the year. We had a pretty good crew (kru!) today, but it was still insane. At one point I had to shrink-wrap some dvds in the back while Boss #1 took over the cash. Yikes! That was really hairy, but she was pretty sympathetic. What needs to be done still needs to be done even when there are a dozen people waiting for help.

My new favourite band is called Break Reform. They're awfully melodic and mellow for something the Boy introduced me to. I'm used to him recommending crazy so-bad-it's-almost-good stuff like M.I.A. I really like them, though. They sound a bit like Morcheeba and a bit like Natalie Imbruglia but with lots of other nice mellowy stuff thrown in. They're like marshmallows if marshmallows weren't so sweet and artificial-tasting.

Perhaps I should take some voice lessons. My mom offered to pay, which makes sense since she is buying my brother his own PIANO! Yes, I am just as shocked as you all are. Where the hell are we going to put a piano in this teeny-tiny little apartment? Your guess is as good as mine, but I'm of the opinion that they're going to turf the green fuzzy loveseat which so perfectly fits my frame when I'm curled up there on a Saturday morning with a copy of the Globe & Mail. That blows.

Gah! I've really got to call Cait. Said I would call ages ago.

Perhaps more later.

I wish you all a Zen player for your next birthday.


by Nome at 8:27 PM
0 mews

    Welcome. This is the humble chronicle of my life & my thoughts on the world as I see it. If you know me in real life and want to keep my trust, PLEASE ASK BEFORE READING! I'm not accountable to you or to anyone else for what I say in these pages. Comments are much appreciated, but but insults and personal attacks will not be tolerated. Please respect privacy and anonymity - nicknames or pseudonyms only. This is my space to be an adult - kids should go elsewhere. Thanks, and enjoy.

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