Post concert update

Ok, the show was GREAT!! It was a nice mix of the Once soundtrack with other original pieces and some covers. First off, Glen Hansard is a funny man. He rambled on several times, and got a lot of crowd response throughout the concert. He gave the crowd a shout out for being one of the best sing-along groups so far, and gave a stirring rendition of an enthusiastic but tone deaf crowd they had somewhere else.

Best random tale? I enjoyed one about hangovers. The gist of it was that he hates hangovers, but that he often has a religious experience sometime during them, mostly when he hits the point where he realizes that he isn't going to die.

And let's not forget I&W. I enjoyed Sam, but was a little disappointed that he didn't play a couple of my favorite songs. Well, guess I'll have to keep an ear to the ground and catch him the next time he comes through Dallas.

For $10, you'll be able to download the show from playedlastnight.com. I'm looking forward to it!

Finding the key to life

This morning, I've been spending a good chunk of it listening to Celia Cruz songs. One of the ones I've been lingering on is called Sin Clave No Hay Son.

The clave, for some quick background, generally refers to one of 2 things when spoken of in reference to music. It can refer to the actual instrument (2 thick wooden sticks that are used to tap out a rhythm), or it refers to the actual rhythmic pattern that they beat out. The patterns vary on whether you're playing salsa, son, samba, rumba, etc.

Essentially, without the clave, latin music would be soulless and flat. The clave gives the music it's flavor, it's dance-inducing properties. It's the key to the music.

This song is an ode to the clave. Love it. There's a few particular lines in the song that led me to pick it out of my list today, as follows:

No hay esperanza sin ilusiones
Y no hay engaño sin decepción
Amor sincero sin corazón
Y sin clave no hay son

Translation? I suppose I could... but a direct translation doesn't really express what it means. Instead, enjoy Celia Cruz as she appeared back on a weird 70s era variety show! The song she's singing is, if I'm not mistaken, of Peruvian origin, which makes me warm to it even more.

Priorities? I've got your priorities right here

I've been thinking.

I'm kinda-sorta dating someone right now. Super nice guy, who actually stuck around after I went on a couple of dates with him, then gave him a hug and said, "Hey, let's be friends!" That was... 6 months ago? At the time, he stared at me for a second, and said, "Yeah, sure, that was totally what I was going to suggest myself." And he kept being my friend. So, he's been very patient with my skittish behavior, so I'm trying to let myself relax enough to just have fun.

But, you know, I hate giving him dibs on my time.

For example: He asks me if I want to go out Thursday. I evade it by telling him I have plans. The truth? NO PLANS. I just don't want to say yes.

Yet, one of my friends calls me, and even though I'm scheduled for a dentist appointment/ appendectomy/ disarming a nuclear warhead/ etc., I will say "Sure! See you then."

Maybe not all my friends, but you know who you are if you're reading this. I don't know what's wrong with me. Do I not like him? No, I do, actually. At the very least as a good friend, the rest I'm trying to sort out. So what's up?

The best I can figure at the moment is a combination of the following:

• Commitment phobia, plain and simple.
• Planning ahead just goes against my core nature of chaos.
• I don't like him enough.
• I'm afraid that the more time alone we spend together, the more he will realize that, yes, I'm kind of crazy.
• Very likely, when that time rolls around, all I'll want to do is lay on my couch with a good book. I really like my couch.

Hmm. What do you guys think?

Once

Have you seen the movie Once? No? Well, to be fair, I really haven't seen it all yet myself. However, this has not stopped me from listening to the soundtrack over and over again. Do yourself a favor, sit down with it, kick back on your couch (alone or with company, either seems to work pretty well), and just listen.

So, I've got some love for Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, now performing together as The Swell Season. You can imagine how crazy-happy I'm feeling that I have tickets to see the musicians perform at the end of this month. I am, to put it mildly, excited. Plus, it's at a venue that I like, the Palladium ballroom, which makes it even better.

In general, I am never particularly interested in the musicians that open for the main show. Not to say that I haven't been pleasantly surprised before by some good stuff, of course. However, I have been listening and watching videos of Iron and Wine, the act that is touring with them. And, you know, I'm getting even more excited! The 29th can't get here fast enough. In the meantime, enjoy some Sam Beam goodness.

Skeletal mass, damn it!

You know, you'd think that years of reading and higher education would help a person become more eloquent in their speech and enhance the ability to, I don't know, avoid humiliating oneself while at karaoke.

An innocent discussion about guessing weights, one unintentional statement, and I have a feeling that there will be snickering among all involved whenever certain subjects or trigger words are mentioned in the future. It's really unfair. As if anyone really needs extra ammunition to make me blush to begin with.

Raining

The security guard gave me a perplexed look.

This could have been because of the late hour. Perhaps because I was singing to myself. Or because I was taking a walk in the rain. It might have been related to the fact that there was an unintentionally very visible patterned bra (hearts) under my soaking, light pink shirt. It could have been because of the sound of soggy, squeaky sneakers on the hard floor as I entered. Possibly, it was a combination of the above.

The rain was unanticipated.

Drop off and pick up

Let me preface this with a statement: I don't dumpster dive with any kind of regularity. Occasionally, I have scoped out the stacks of random ikea furniture, office chairs, and even crapped out bicycles that are thrown away by people moving out of my apartment building. The bike was fun, although I learned the brakes didn't work. Painfully. And, yes, I have a few books that I picked up off the curb that someone had set out to be picked up by the garbage man. That's about the limit.

I carted a large box of odds and ends out to Goodwill today. I honestly wasn't sure whether there would be anyone available to take it, but the website assured me that they are available everyday. It's not far, at any rate.

Pulling up to the donation center, it seems that the website lied. There was no one to be seen to receive the goods. However, it soon became obvious that didn't stop people from leaving items behind. There's a small white picket fence around the steps leading to the donation center, and there were several items waiting for a new home: stereos, bags of clothes, forlorn appearing toys, and an old, beat up dress form.

I took some time to examine the last item after wrestling the box I was delivering out of the back seat. It was pushed behind stacks of donations, and had the look of having spent a substantial amount of time in an attic. There was, in fact, something slightly creepy about it. This was more likely my own paranoias speaking though - I find something about mannequins slightly disquieting, and there's something about an adjustable torso that just makes me feel uneasy. However, a unique find shouldn't be ignored. But what use for a dress form in my apartment? None.

Driving away, it sprang to mind that there was at least one person that could find a use for such a thing. A quick phone call, a quick U-turn, and back to Goodwill. Only to find that the center was no longer unmanned - in the 5 minutes away from the place, there was a man loading items into a truck for transport. Not to be dissuaded, I approached him and spoke. A blank stare. I tried Spanish. Bingo. I pointed to the large box I had just deposited and asked whether I could trade one for the other. He shifted from one stance to the other, hrmmed, shook his head, no. I would have to wait for it to be put on sale at the center. I must have looked disappointed. I have a tendency to get sad puppy eyes when that happens, and suddenly, he looked around and said (in Spanish), "Look, I really don't care. Let me get this other stuff loaded up, drive off, and then you're free to take it." I lended him a hand, waved him off, stuffed the thing into my back seat and drove away triumphant.

So, a cool find. I look forward to seeing it being put to good use living up to all it's creepy potential.