Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thanks
Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and commenting on my blog! It has been fun to see your responses. Sorry I have not written in a while, I have several posts in progress that will hopefully be entertaining to you all. I hope you have been sincere in your positive feedback on the blog and not just feeling sorry for the poor unemployed girl because I'm about to send the link to a bunch of people! There is one new post below and more should be up early in the week.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
What the Funk?
Since my arrival in Austin I have been in a bit of a funk. Not having a sense of purpose or a source of income has not allowed me to be my usual fun-loving self. However, when my friend proposed we go to the Elephant Room (a renown jazz venue on South Congress) on a random Wednesday to hear Monster Big Band, I realized I desperately needed to get out on a "school night" (it helped that there was no cover charge). So we get dolled up and head downtown generally feeling great that we now live in a place where you have such a fantastic live music opportunity on a Wednesday. The club is great; basement level in an old building, low lighting, exposed brick, and the palpable feeling of days gone by. The band is even better; sixteen piece big band plus a great singer. There is a mix of young and old (literally a grandfather and his two grand kids at a table one over from mine) rich and poor (me representing the poor in this case), and everyone is there for the music, and everyone is having a great time; but no one is having a better time than Crystal Funk.
From the second I saw Crystal I started thinking about what I would write about her that could adequately describe what I witnessed on this otherwise banal Wednesday. Let's start with the physical description. Black pleather snake skin fancy lad hat (I just learned this term "fancy lad" over the weekend, but basically it is the little beret type hat golfers wear), red suede sleeveless knee length dress (to show off unshaven underarms and allow the freedom of movement to do high kicks, and yes, there were many high kicks), and black jazz shoes such as one would wear in an actual jazz dance class. As soon as the band strikes up the first chord she appears on the left side of the stage. Please keep in mind, there is no dance floor in this joint, she's just wedged between tables and the stage. She begins a series of movements that, for the sake of simplicity, we will call dance. This is an odd combination of every tribal dance ever witnessed on the National Geographic Chanel, interpretive dance from New Age churches, and the choreography from the movie/musical Chicago. I know a lot of words and I can't come up with any combination of them that could ever truly describe Crystal's dance. During the first song it is a bit distracting for the audience and, judging by their faces, several members of the band. There is a lot of pointing and giggling and many a confounded glance exchanged. I figure she just really likes this first number and will take a seat when it is done, but I could not have been more wrong. She continues to dance to EVERY SONG of the entire night. She never once sat down for a break. So as not to deprive anyone of the magic of the dance, she moved to the front of the stage, then to the right, and continued to circulate at intervals throughout the night. At one point a brave soul from the audience joined her for a slow dance, but it was obviously too restrictive for her, she needed to have the freedom to kick and slide without the interference of a partner. Later on a woman who seemed a bit vexed by Crystal stood up and did her own impression of these unique moves, much to the delight of the other patrons, but Crystal was too busy dancing to even notice.
Was she high? Probably. Was she mentally ill? Possibly. Was she drunk? She was drinking beer, but just enough to refresh between songs. All I know is I have never in my life, on my very best day, in my most shining moment felt as good as Crystal Funk did dancing to Monster Big Band at the Elephant Room on a Wednesday night. This was either the craziest, highest, or most confident woman I have ever seen in my thirty-one years of life. Which ever of the preceding adjectives truly apply, I think I learned a few lessons about life from Crystal: 1) Enjoy every moment to it's fullest 2) Don't be so concerned with what other people think about you 3) Never ever for any reason stop shaving your underarms.
Thank you Crystal Funk, for pulling me out of my funk. I will never forget you.
From the second I saw Crystal I started thinking about what I would write about her that could adequately describe what I witnessed on this otherwise banal Wednesday. Let's start with the physical description. Black pleather snake skin fancy lad hat (I just learned this term "fancy lad" over the weekend, but basically it is the little beret type hat golfers wear), red suede sleeveless knee length dress (to show off unshaven underarms and allow the freedom of movement to do high kicks, and yes, there were many high kicks), and black jazz shoes such as one would wear in an actual jazz dance class. As soon as the band strikes up the first chord she appears on the left side of the stage. Please keep in mind, there is no dance floor in this joint, she's just wedged between tables and the stage. She begins a series of movements that, for the sake of simplicity, we will call dance. This is an odd combination of every tribal dance ever witnessed on the National Geographic Chanel, interpretive dance from New Age churches, and the choreography from the movie/musical Chicago. I know a lot of words and I can't come up with any combination of them that could ever truly describe Crystal's dance. During the first song it is a bit distracting for the audience and, judging by their faces, several members of the band. There is a lot of pointing and giggling and many a confounded glance exchanged. I figure she just really likes this first number and will take a seat when it is done, but I could not have been more wrong. She continues to dance to EVERY SONG of the entire night. She never once sat down for a break. So as not to deprive anyone of the magic of the dance, she moved to the front of the stage, then to the right, and continued to circulate at intervals throughout the night. At one point a brave soul from the audience joined her for a slow dance, but it was obviously too restrictive for her, she needed to have the freedom to kick and slide without the interference of a partner. Later on a woman who seemed a bit vexed by Crystal stood up and did her own impression of these unique moves, much to the delight of the other patrons, but Crystal was too busy dancing to even notice.
Was she high? Probably. Was she mentally ill? Possibly. Was she drunk? She was drinking beer, but just enough to refresh between songs. All I know is I have never in my life, on my very best day, in my most shining moment felt as good as Crystal Funk did dancing to Monster Big Band at the Elephant Room on a Wednesday night. This was either the craziest, highest, or most confident woman I have ever seen in my thirty-one years of life. Which ever of the preceding adjectives truly apply, I think I learned a few lessons about life from Crystal: 1) Enjoy every moment to it's fullest 2) Don't be so concerned with what other people think about you 3) Never ever for any reason stop shaving your underarms.
Thank you Crystal Funk, for pulling me out of my funk. I will never forget you.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Tacos at the Track
Since I have moved to a very health conscious city, I figured I better rededicate myself to getting in shape. I have been trying to get to the track at a school not far from my apartment a few times a week. The track, the school, and the neighborhood are perfectly nice and safe but I like to call the area "Little Mexico." I am the only white girl using this track. Luckily I'm still tan from the summer and usually get to the track before sunrise, so no one has realized "which one of these is not like the others."
Yesterday was an interesting day at the track though. There are taquerias on every corner around the track so it isn't unusual to smell Mexican food, but yesterday I was detecting a very strong scent of cumin on a particular stretch of the track. I'm very familiar with the smell of cumin because when I first started cooking I had a few mishaps with over seasoning and learned quickly that a little cumin goes a long way. So I thought it was very odd to be getting such a strong scent of straight cumin while trying to work out. On my second lap around the track I get back to the area with the smell and it is still really strong. At this point I notice some dirt sprinkled along the track, more concentrated in some areas than others. It looks like the sand out of a sand trap on a golf course. Then it occurs to me that there is no sand on the field inside the track and that this isn't sand at all, it's cumin. This, as you can imagine, led to many questions in my curious little mind. 1) Why would someone have cumin at the track? 2) How did the cumin that was inexplicably at the track get spilled? 3) Did someone have flavorless tacos for dinner because they spilled the cumin on the track? I spent the next quarter mile trying to rationalize the mystery of the cumin with no luck. At that point my attention turned from tacos to CHiPs.
A guy in a black tank top and white shorts, sporting some lovely body art passed me at this stage in my workout. I get passed at the track with unsettling regularity, but this guy flew by me. I don't make much of it at first, but on the next lap he passes me in the exact same spot. At this point I notice his hair. It is thick and black and all feathered up like Erik Estrada's. I then have a vivid picture of him jogging in full California Highway Patrol regalia. This amuses me for another quarter mile until he passes me again in the same spot. Then I realize this guy is doing two laps to every one of mine, and even though I'm not very fast, that is a bit ridiculous. When he passes me a fourth time in the same spot and has run two miles in the time it took me to do one, I come to the only possible conclusion: he is half Mexican, half gazelle. He does not have a hair out of place, is smiling, hasn't broken a sweat, and could probably sing a show tune at full volume as he runs. I'm not holding up near as well. If he is a gazelle on the track, I'm a sloth. Perhaps I'm being too hard on myself, maybe I'm more like a chicken which is, apparently, the fifth slowest animal on land.
Needless to say, instead of feeling accomplished and invigorated after my workout, I just wanted to grab some tacos on the way home.
Yesterday was an interesting day at the track though. There are taquerias on every corner around the track so it isn't unusual to smell Mexican food, but yesterday I was detecting a very strong scent of cumin on a particular stretch of the track. I'm very familiar with the smell of cumin because when I first started cooking I had a few mishaps with over seasoning and learned quickly that a little cumin goes a long way. So I thought it was very odd to be getting such a strong scent of straight cumin while trying to work out. On my second lap around the track I get back to the area with the smell and it is still really strong. At this point I notice some dirt sprinkled along the track, more concentrated in some areas than others. It looks like the sand out of a sand trap on a golf course. Then it occurs to me that there is no sand on the field inside the track and that this isn't sand at all, it's cumin. This, as you can imagine, led to many questions in my curious little mind. 1) Why would someone have cumin at the track? 2) How did the cumin that was inexplicably at the track get spilled? 3) Did someone have flavorless tacos for dinner because they spilled the cumin on the track? I spent the next quarter mile trying to rationalize the mystery of the cumin with no luck. At that point my attention turned from tacos to CHiPs.
A guy in a black tank top and white shorts, sporting some lovely body art passed me at this stage in my workout. I get passed at the track with unsettling regularity, but this guy flew by me. I don't make much of it at first, but on the next lap he passes me in the exact same spot. At this point I notice his hair. It is thick and black and all feathered up like Erik Estrada's. I then have a vivid picture of him jogging in full California Highway Patrol regalia. This amuses me for another quarter mile until he passes me again in the same spot. Then I realize this guy is doing two laps to every one of mine, and even though I'm not very fast, that is a bit ridiculous. When he passes me a fourth time in the same spot and has run two miles in the time it took me to do one, I come to the only possible conclusion: he is half Mexican, half gazelle. He does not have a hair out of place, is smiling, hasn't broken a sweat, and could probably sing a show tune at full volume as he runs. I'm not holding up near as well. If he is a gazelle on the track, I'm a sloth. Perhaps I'm being too hard on myself, maybe I'm more like a chicken which is, apparently, the fifth slowest animal on land.
Needless to say, instead of feeling accomplished and invigorated after my workout, I just wanted to grab some tacos on the way home.
Friday, September 11, 2009
9-11
The past seven times the calendar has landed on this day I have experienced a conundrum, and today is no different. First of all, has it really been eight years? Can time really be passing by this quickly? How do you adequately acknowledge the events of this day in 2001 without cheapening them, being utterly cheesy, or making it more about you than the actual remembrance?
When I was teaching we stopped for a minute of silence at the end of the announcements before continuing on with our day, but seeing as how we had a mandatory moment of silence everyday, I'm not sure this 9-11 moment of silence really stood out as anything different. My students all lived through that day and have dealt with the ramifications of it, but for the most part they were too young to grasp the levity when it actually occurred. They oblige in the silence, but I'm not sure it has much effect on them.
I have seen no ads for any sort of TV specials or an address from the President this year, but I would imagine in 2011 there will be all manner of tenth anniversary spectacle.
My news feed on Facebook today is littered with Alan Jackson song lyrics and reminders not to forget; as if that were possible. I was driving to work listening to NPR and the announcer had breaking news that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. He obviously didn't know the magnitude of the situation, and the way he said it conjured up a picture of a small private plane; in my mind the plane suffered more damage than the building. I was totally unprepared for what I saw on TV later in the day.
Movies have been made, money raised, a deluge of first responder TV shows launched, monuments designed; but soldiers are still deployed and families are still incomplete as a result of one day.
It feels wrong not to acknowledge it at all, but no acknowledgement really seems appropriate. I guess all we can do is say a prayer for those affected directly, support the troops, ensure this country remains one worthy of all that sacrifice, and make the most of every day because time really is going by this quickly.
When I was teaching we stopped for a minute of silence at the end of the announcements before continuing on with our day, but seeing as how we had a mandatory moment of silence everyday, I'm not sure this 9-11 moment of silence really stood out as anything different. My students all lived through that day and have dealt with the ramifications of it, but for the most part they were too young to grasp the levity when it actually occurred. They oblige in the silence, but I'm not sure it has much effect on them.
I have seen no ads for any sort of TV specials or an address from the President this year, but I would imagine in 2011 there will be all manner of tenth anniversary spectacle.
My news feed on Facebook today is littered with Alan Jackson song lyrics and reminders not to forget; as if that were possible. I was driving to work listening to NPR and the announcer had breaking news that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. He obviously didn't know the magnitude of the situation, and the way he said it conjured up a picture of a small private plane; in my mind the plane suffered more damage than the building. I was totally unprepared for what I saw on TV later in the day.
Movies have been made, money raised, a deluge of first responder TV shows launched, monuments designed; but soldiers are still deployed and families are still incomplete as a result of one day.
It feels wrong not to acknowledge it at all, but no acknowledgement really seems appropriate. I guess all we can do is say a prayer for those affected directly, support the troops, ensure this country remains one worthy of all that sacrifice, and make the most of every day because time really is going by this quickly.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Best Relationship I've Ever Been In
Remember the episode of Sex and the City when Miranda gets Tivo and it changes her life? I totally get how she felt now. I held out on getting the DVR, but when I moved, my new apartment came with a fantastic 42 inch HDTV already installed, and it only seemed right to subscribe to the HD cable programming which happens to include a DVR. After the first two days I was ready to change my Facebook status to "Kelly is in a relationship with...her new TV and DVR."
One of the best things about my new cable service is the palladia channel that shows live music in HD. I am currently watching the drummer from Kings of Leon drink bottled beer from a straw someone is holding to his lips so that he doesn't miss a beat on the drum kit. I would like someone to start holding my beer bottles for me when I go out. I am so excited to see this band at ACL this year. I don't know how the lead singer manages to maintain that level of vocal intensity without losing his voice, but it sounds amazing, and not just a little sexy.
Lucky for me, while I was watching Kings of Leon, my DVR was recording the series premier of The Vampire Diaries on the CW. I have successfully managed to avoid the CW up to this point, but dammit if I don't love a good vampire tale. It used to be a mild interest, but Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series launched me into full on obsession. The vampire on the CW is desperately trying to be Edward Cullen, but he's just not quite there; thanks to the DVR I'll probably record and watch a few more episodes anyway. I draw the line at watching Gossip Girl though.
The worst thing I watch on TV is Flipping Out on Bravo. It is ridiculous, but the guy is so delightfully bat shit crazy I cannot help but watch. I act like I'm above reality television, but the reality is that in addition to Flipping Out I watch America's Got Talent (there is a lady from Houston going to the finals Monday who is a cancer survivor and she sings opera, which I don't even know much about, but she is so good I cry every time I hear her), this season I got suckered into The Next Design Star on HGTV, and of course the ultimate, Top Chef. I'm a little peeved I missed Top Chef: The Master's, but that was before I had my DVR, thank goodness I don't have to worry about missing anything of that nature again. Design Star and AGT are both winding up soon and I am not going to get caught up in them again. I don't feel too bad about Top Chef because it is as much cooking show as reality show. My absolute FAVORITE show is No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel. I guess it is kind of reality, but more documentary. Tony is an amazing writer and has a great way of illustrating things. I would recommend this show to anyone who likes food, travel, witty repartee, or learning about other cultures. It is a seriously amazing show.
Aside from the reality, I'm ready for The Office, 30 Rock, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, The Mentalist, Castle, and Chuck (which barely made it) to come back. I'm giving up on Heroes after a sucktastic last season. I'm not happy Life was canceled, and a little bummed Friday Night Lights airs its season on Direct TV before coming to NBC. What is REALLY making me HAPPY is Glee on Fox. If you haven't seen this show, go on-line and watch the first two episodes post haste. Maybe I like it so much because in addition to attending high school I worked in high schools for eight years, but it combines all the social awkwardness of being a teenager with all the gooey goodness that is musical theater. I defy you not to smile while watching this show.
I think this post makes it abundantly clear that I have too much time on my hands. Not that I watch more TV than before, I've just never gone to the trouble to write about it. I discuss it at length with my friend, Jason, and sometimes my sister, Jill, but it is kind of sad to see it all written out here. I must get a job so I can start going out again. I'm seriously excited about my DVR though, and once I am out on the town again, it will still record my shows for me! However, I will make every effort not to write odes to my DVR and beautiful TV again.
One of the best things about my new cable service is the palladia channel that shows live music in HD. I am currently watching the drummer from Kings of Leon drink bottled beer from a straw someone is holding to his lips so that he doesn't miss a beat on the drum kit. I would like someone to start holding my beer bottles for me when I go out. I am so excited to see this band at ACL this year. I don't know how the lead singer manages to maintain that level of vocal intensity without losing his voice, but it sounds amazing, and not just a little sexy.
Lucky for me, while I was watching Kings of Leon, my DVR was recording the series premier of The Vampire Diaries on the CW. I have successfully managed to avoid the CW up to this point, but dammit if I don't love a good vampire tale. It used to be a mild interest, but Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series launched me into full on obsession. The vampire on the CW is desperately trying to be Edward Cullen, but he's just not quite there; thanks to the DVR I'll probably record and watch a few more episodes anyway. I draw the line at watching Gossip Girl though.
The worst thing I watch on TV is Flipping Out on Bravo. It is ridiculous, but the guy is so delightfully bat shit crazy I cannot help but watch. I act like I'm above reality television, but the reality is that in addition to Flipping Out I watch America's Got Talent (there is a lady from Houston going to the finals Monday who is a cancer survivor and she sings opera, which I don't even know much about, but she is so good I cry every time I hear her), this season I got suckered into The Next Design Star on HGTV, and of course the ultimate, Top Chef. I'm a little peeved I missed Top Chef: The Master's, but that was before I had my DVR, thank goodness I don't have to worry about missing anything of that nature again. Design Star and AGT are both winding up soon and I am not going to get caught up in them again. I don't feel too bad about Top Chef because it is as much cooking show as reality show. My absolute FAVORITE show is No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel. I guess it is kind of reality, but more documentary. Tony is an amazing writer and has a great way of illustrating things. I would recommend this show to anyone who likes food, travel, witty repartee, or learning about other cultures. It is a seriously amazing show.
Aside from the reality, I'm ready for The Office, 30 Rock, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, The Mentalist, Castle, and Chuck (which barely made it) to come back. I'm giving up on Heroes after a sucktastic last season. I'm not happy Life was canceled, and a little bummed Friday Night Lights airs its season on Direct TV before coming to NBC. What is REALLY making me HAPPY is Glee on Fox. If you haven't seen this show, go on-line and watch the first two episodes post haste. Maybe I like it so much because in addition to attending high school I worked in high schools for eight years, but it combines all the social awkwardness of being a teenager with all the gooey goodness that is musical theater. I defy you not to smile while watching this show.
I think this post makes it abundantly clear that I have too much time on my hands. Not that I watch more TV than before, I've just never gone to the trouble to write about it. I discuss it at length with my friend, Jason, and sometimes my sister, Jill, but it is kind of sad to see it all written out here. I must get a job so I can start going out again. I'm seriously excited about my DVR though, and once I am out on the town again, it will still record my shows for me! However, I will make every effort not to write odes to my DVR and beautiful TV again.
Slacker
Well, this has gone well. A year and a half later and no new posts! Obviously, I've been very busy. Now, however, I find myself with some extra time on my hands. I felt it was necessary to quit my job, move to a new town, and start a new career. The only problem is I have no idea what that new career should be, and I decided to embark on this adventure during a major recession. Go me! I mistakenly thought employers would recognize all of the valuable skills I gained over the past six years in the classroom and be falling over themselves to hire me to put those skills to work for them. HA! I really shouldn't be so negative as I've only been seriously job hunting for a month (I EARNED that summer break). I thought I was being very savvy when I attended bar tending school this summer so that I'd have something to fall back on if I didn't score a "grown-up job" right away (plus I've always had a dream of being a bartender, I don't know why) but apparently you have to have two years bar tending experience (and at least three tattoos) to even be considered for a bar tending job. So, here I am, feeling kind of blah because I don't have a job. Please don't misunderstand me, if I won the lottery or married a rich man and didn't have to work, that would be AMAZING. But, it's hard to enjoy your time off when you have a finite number of dollars in your account, no more guaranteed income, and the rent is still due on the first. Somehow none of this stopped me from getting all new living room furniture when I moved though. Totally worth it because I spend most of my waking hours in my incredibly sleek new living room trolling the internet for jobs; the ambiance eases the pain. The good news is, I have time to write! I just finished reading a HILARIOUS book called Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster. She chronicles her experiences in the two years following being laid off from her job. This included creating a blog site, and it eventually landed her a book deal. I'm not thinking the same will happen to me, but I do think I need to be doing SOMETHING every day so I feel I have a purpose, and this is free! Plus, I already had it set up, AND I can check job postings while I'm on-line. Sorry to disappoint, Jason, but I will not be working my way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking and discussing it on this site, although that was a great and highly original thought. So here we go, round two of trying to be blogtastic...
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