I should be researching for a term paper. Or if I'm not researching, I should be sleeping. But I haven't blogged much, and I haven't read anyone's blog lately, either, and . . . this is clearly important. Watch.
There's a house around the corner on my way to work where they sell vegetables and rabbits all summer. Yesterday, while driving by, the rabbit hutches caught my eye and I thought, "I wonder if I should get a rabbit and housetrain it sometime." Dear Friend Paulina has a rabbit named Tivoli. I have not met her (the rabbit), but she sounds adorable.
When I got to work there was an email from Miss Annie, asking if anyone wanted an abandoned domesticated rabbit which had been found in the woods and is evidently litter trained. Weird.
I didn't answer the email, because hopefully someone else will. I'm not sure how Oscar would deal with a rival animal that wasn't a dog, and besides, on the rare occasion I can't take him with me somewhere, it's sometimes tough to find dogsitters. How would I find a dog-and-rabbit sitter? Besides, when I actually can take Oscar with me, what would I do? Bring the rabbit along, too? I don't think they make car harnesses for rabbits. (It would be kind of fun to say I'm taking my dog and bunny show on the road, though.)
Anyway, this morning I was thinking about this and about my looming term paper while I was drying my hair, and I decided that if I were to lose my senses completely and get a rabbit, and I was still taking grad classes, I would have to name the rabbit Turabian. Then I started thinking of all the other names I would like to give to animals for fun.
Like, I have this penchant for ancient Assyrian names. I think they mostly sound like cats. Tiglath-Pileser, for example. Also, last week I went and heard They Might Be Giants on Earth Day and they sang, "The Mesopotamians," and for almost a week now, the soundtrack in my head has been singing, "We're the Mesopotameeeans--Sargon, Hammurabi, Ashubanipal and Gilgamehhhsh . . . " I think you could name cats those names, too. If I ever got a hamster (which I don't think I ever would), I might like to name him Sennacherib, for a joke. 'Cause it kind of sounds like you're talking about snacks--and hamsters are snack-size.
Did I mention I should be in bed right now?
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Isn't It Ironic?
The first time I ever heard anyone go on a rant about Alanis Morissette's song's use of the word "ironic," I was still living in England. The ranter was this somewhat arrogant young British chap whose British manner of self-expression made the rant funny even though he was arrogant and he was using his diatribe as a a sort of "proof" that Americans have no idea what irony is. I think he meant people from the United States. (Isn't it ironic that she's Canadian?)
Since that time, however, I have heard a few North American rants about this very same thing, except they specify the artist herself as the one who doesn't know what irony is. These rants are actually kind of trendy, as a quick perusal of the comment section under the YouTube video makes evident. I confess that I have ranted similarly before . . . when I didn't realise just how many people were experts on the meaning of the word ironic.
The latest rant I heard on this topic, however, came from Dave and was directed at me. I had used the term to describe a series of coincidentally badly-timed real-life events which were in nature not unlike Morissette's vignettes. It was at this point that I got both snippy and embarrassed, because I had to admit that, even though I have a B.A. in English Literature and am continually correcting people's grammar and spelling in my head (if not aloud), I myself am probably not overly clear on the meaning of the word irony. Dave, who has a B.A. in Philosophy which requires better-than-average language skills as well, became very intent on trying to tease out the knots of this issue for me. However, because the examples at hand were Morissette's lyrics and my bad luck, the explanation fell a little short of a language lesson. It may not be ironic, but it's kind of a bummer when your life is getting moderately sucky and you are wrong about the word you want to use to describe it.
We managed to agree that a more accurate adjective for the situations posited by Morissette and actually being lived through by me is annoying. But last night another such episode transpired, and I would just like to say, in both my and Alanis' defense, that the reason we want to use the word ironic for these kinds of situations is because annoying doesn't cut it. That word is too broad. Lots of things are annoying and don't incorporate these weird little twists of what-have-you. There isn't a word for these scenarios, is the problem, see. There are combinations of words, but nothing nice and concise like the word ironic.
"Who woulda thought--it figures," is Alanis' more accurate summing up of both her and my scenarios, but you can't go around saying that all the time. Even "doesn't it suck?" or "isn't your luck terrible?" or "isn't it bad timing?" doesn't really do it, even though all of those things do, in fact, describe the situations in question. None of them touch on that thing inherent to these situations that Alanis is calling irony--maybe it isn't, but it's something beyond suckiness and bad luck and bad timing. I think we need a new word, guys. Right now, I'm calling it "go-figure timing," but don't try to make a song out of it, because it's still really unwieldy.
Since that time, however, I have heard a few North American rants about this very same thing, except they specify the artist herself as the one who doesn't know what irony is. These rants are actually kind of trendy, as a quick perusal of the comment section under the YouTube video makes evident. I confess that I have ranted similarly before . . . when I didn't realise just how many people were experts on the meaning of the word ironic.
The latest rant I heard on this topic, however, came from Dave and was directed at me. I had used the term to describe a series of coincidentally badly-timed real-life events which were in nature not unlike Morissette's vignettes. It was at this point that I got both snippy and embarrassed, because I had to admit that, even though I have a B.A. in English Literature and am continually correcting people's grammar and spelling in my head (if not aloud), I myself am probably not overly clear on the meaning of the word irony. Dave, who has a B.A. in Philosophy which requires better-than-average language skills as well, became very intent on trying to tease out the knots of this issue for me. However, because the examples at hand were Morissette's lyrics and my bad luck, the explanation fell a little short of a language lesson. It may not be ironic, but it's kind of a bummer when your life is getting moderately sucky and you are wrong about the word you want to use to describe it.
We managed to agree that a more accurate adjective for the situations posited by Morissette and actually being lived through by me is annoying. But last night another such episode transpired, and I would just like to say, in both my and Alanis' defense, that the reason we want to use the word ironic for these kinds of situations is because annoying doesn't cut it. That word is too broad. Lots of things are annoying and don't incorporate these weird little twists of what-have-you. There isn't a word for these scenarios, is the problem, see. There are combinations of words, but nothing nice and concise like the word ironic.
"Who woulda thought--it figures," is Alanis' more accurate summing up of both her and my scenarios, but you can't go around saying that all the time. Even "doesn't it suck?" or "isn't your luck terrible?" or "isn't it bad timing?" doesn't really do it, even though all of those things do, in fact, describe the situations in question. None of them touch on that thing inherent to these situations that Alanis is calling irony--maybe it isn't, but it's something beyond suckiness and bad luck and bad timing. I think we need a new word, guys. Right now, I'm calling it "go-figure timing," but don't try to make a song out of it, because it's still really unwieldy.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Whoa. That Was Weird
After writing that last post, I tried one more search on my computer and found what appears to be my songs, lurking in the shadows. I dragged and dropped them into itunes, and they seem to have gone there, and, randomly, one of the songs started playing.
It was Jason Harrod's "Messed Up Everywhere Blues." Ironically. And also which I love. And which I had been singing earlier. As the melody tugs on my heart, the album covers reappear in the itunes screen . . . one . . . by . . . one . . . like little stars . . .
So melodramatic. So silly. But somehow the music seemed to imbue even that with meaning.
All that to say: basically better. I still need to check a couple of things, but I think we're good. And . . . I'd better back up my ipod.
It was Jason Harrod's "Messed Up Everywhere Blues." Ironically. And also which I love. And which I had been singing earlier. As the melody tugs on my heart, the album covers reappear in the itunes screen . . . one . . . by . . . one . . . like little stars . . .
So melodramatic. So silly. But somehow the music seemed to imbue even that with meaning.
All that to say: basically better. I still need to check a couple of things, but I think we're good. And . . . I'd better back up my ipod.
Plus, We Are Again Having Technical Difficulties
Although my gratitude remains heartfelt to Matthew-the-Macintosh-Evangelist, I confess it only took a couple of months to realise that I wasn't as convinced by the product as he is. I like my Macbook a lot. I just tend to think . . . it's a computer. I know my tastes aren't honed to appreciate the subtleties in computers the way they are able to tell coffee from coffee. Heck, I can't even do half the things on my computer that my computer could allow me to do if I knew how. (Does that make any sense?)
Mostly I think I mean . . . Macs are touted as being these perfect machines. And they aren't. Or at least . . . mine isn't. I don't know why I would expect any computer owned by me to be perfect, but I confess I sort of had that in the back of my mind.
What I have discovered instead, however, is that Mack, my generally cooperative Macbook, likes to snack on CD-ROMs. Sometimes they get stuck. When that happens, I have to shut him down unceremoniously and turn him back on and hope he will release the disk without any more fighting. Usually he does.
Today I bought the 2008 version of TaxCut, which I always use. I inserted the disk. It got stuck. I shut down the computer. I turned on the computer. I ejected the disk. But I still wanted to do my taxes, so I re-inserted the disk. I installed the software. I ejected the disk. Then the software wouldn't run properly. The whole system got stuck. I shut the computer down again. I turned it back on again. This process (minus the disk, now that the software was supposedly installe) repeated about three times. Finally I decided to return the software and give up for the night. It's not April yet.
I turned the computer back on. I inserted a music disk so I could copy some files. ITunes opened with a horrifying error message to the effect that it couldn't locate my music library because my music library had been damaged. I think I had three days worth of songs on there. I had not backed up my ipod in some time. My itunes library is nowhere to be found.
I called the Milk Guy, more for moral support than because I thought he could fix it; he hasn't had a Mac in years. He said, "It sounds like the computer tried to upload the programme into itunes and it messed up the whole system." Yep. I think he's right. I just . . . couldn't be more frustrated right now.
Mostly I think I mean . . . Macs are touted as being these perfect machines. And they aren't. Or at least . . . mine isn't. I don't know why I would expect any computer owned by me to be perfect, but I confess I sort of had that in the back of my mind.
What I have discovered instead, however, is that Mack, my generally cooperative Macbook, likes to snack on CD-ROMs. Sometimes they get stuck. When that happens, I have to shut him down unceremoniously and turn him back on and hope he will release the disk without any more fighting. Usually he does.
Today I bought the 2008 version of TaxCut, which I always use. I inserted the disk. It got stuck. I shut down the computer. I turned on the computer. I ejected the disk. But I still wanted to do my taxes, so I re-inserted the disk. I installed the software. I ejected the disk. Then the software wouldn't run properly. The whole system got stuck. I shut the computer down again. I turned it back on again. This process (minus the disk, now that the software was supposedly installe) repeated about three times. Finally I decided to return the software and give up for the night. It's not April yet.
I turned the computer back on. I inserted a music disk so I could copy some files. ITunes opened with a horrifying error message to the effect that it couldn't locate my music library because my music library had been damaged. I think I had three days worth of songs on there. I had not backed up my ipod in some time. My itunes library is nowhere to be found.
I called the Milk Guy, more for moral support than because I thought he could fix it; he hasn't had a Mac in years. He said, "It sounds like the computer tried to upload the programme into itunes and it messed up the whole system." Yep. I think he's right. I just . . . couldn't be more frustrated right now.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Classy
Every so often I go through a phase where I feel like being cultured. These never last very long. But when such humours strike, they make me do wild and crazy things like go to art museums or listen to National Public Radio. (Apparently they also make me say, "National Public Radio," instead of just "NPR." But that might have had something to do with sentence cadence, too.)
I am currently in one of these phases, and what it's making me do this time is listen to classical music stations and practice my flute. (My mother is now weeping with joy. Aren't you, Mom?) It started about two weeks ago when it hit me for the millionth time how I used to be able to play fairly complex classical pieces on my flute and now I can scarcely read music. This time I decided I was fed up with the idea. So I've pulled out some more or less simple things that I used to play and am working my way up. (We'll see how long this lasts. It helps that Former-Roommate-Sarah is now giving me voice lessons, too, which means that I have to practice something anyway.)
At about the time I made this decision in self-discipline, I was listening to one of the insipid pop-stations-which-claim-to-be-alternative that I usually listen to because they don't actually require listening, and I realised that James Blunt was singing, but that I had spent the whole first half of the song thinking it was a woman. And then I switched the station to another of the same ilk . . . and he was still singing. It was really dreadful.
When I first started practicing my flute again (instead of dragging it out every couple of weeks for church and irresponsibly winging it), I thought, "The problem with this whole thing is that I don't actually like the flute." It's not really very cool, you know. Also, when my brother was in junior high and learning the trombone, if he got mad at someone in the family, he could go in his room and let out a long and satisfying blat on it. Whereas, if I attempt something similar with the flute, all I get is "shrill," and there is nothing satisfying about shrill at all.
I was thinking this, somewhat discontentedly, when the classical station I had just started listening to played something by Faure. Gabriel Faure single-handedly makes flute cool, I decided. I think he might have been the only person who really got it. Well, and maybe Poulenc. Anyway. I'm thankful for Gabriel Faure. I'm also grateful that this radio station seems to like him, too.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Pop Racism Revisited
So, due to the slight flurry of discussion on my is-it-racist-(let-alone-true)-to-call-Annie-Lennox-the-greatest-white-soul-singer post, I feel it my duty to alert you to this article, about a young black woman trying to break into the country music scene. Maybe I partly feel it's my duty because I copped out when requested to provide my definition of racism. (I do want you to know, Jasdye, that I have been pondering this ever since; however, I still haven't come up with anything, er, definitive.)
Because I now feel somewhat intimidated by the topic, I guess I don't have much to say about this article, except that I think that Rissi Palmer has a remarkably positive attitude:
Too bad I'm not a big afficionado or connoisseuse of country music. I haven't heard any of her stuff, and if I had, I'm not sure how I would evaluate it. But if any of you have and are, please feel free to post a review.
Because I now feel somewhat intimidated by the topic, I guess I don't have much to say about this article, except that I think that Rissi Palmer has a remarkably positive attitude:
She's not looking for favors, she says, just a fair shot. She recalls how Nashville music executives would gush over her demos, then back off when they discovered she was black. Palmer doesn't blame racism, just the realities of the market.I don't know. That's pretty nice of her. I think I would blame racism. I think that is what would make me say, if I were her, "I totally look forward to the day when it's, 'So Rissi, tell me about the album' as opposed to 'You're black. Tell me how that feels.'" Big kudos to her if she doesn't.
Too bad I'm not a big afficionado or connoisseuse of country music. I haven't heard any of her stuff, and if I had, I'm not sure how I would evaluate it. But if any of you have and are, please feel free to post a review.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
The Greatest
Since I got that unexpected CD last Friday, I decided to read up on Annie Lennox a little, and there are a few sites which quote VH1 which, I guess, called her "The Greatest White Soul Singer Alive." That's really cool and I'm sure she should be flattered. But it makes me ask questions.
The first question is, who's the greatest dead white soul singer?
The second question is, isn't such an attribution a little racist?
I refuse to say I'm not racist, because I think everyone is, in some way they're usually blind to, and plus, anytime I've ever heard anyone say, "I'm not racist . . . " the next thing to come out of their mouths is usually something that makes me want to push it back in there. I will say that the racism of which I am conscious drives me crazy and makes me really angry, but I don't usually find myself objecting anti-white racism because I don't usually notice it, and plus, I'd rather try to stick up for somebody else, I think. Maybe that's racist . . .
Anyway.
I guess I'm just asking. I'm not trying to dispute the veracity of the claim regarding Ms. Lennox. I'm just trying to unpack the implications. Which might be something like, "She's not quite as good as a black soul singer, because let's face it--she's not black. And she's unusual, because let's also face it--not many white people can sing soul."
This may or may not be true, but it seems to me that it would be better to be known as one of the greatest soul singers alive and skip the ethnicity part, than to be set apart because of skin colour. I'm pretty sure there are more white than black opera singers, but I'll bet no one says so-and-so is the greatest black opera singer alive. If they did, I think that person might be (and would have a right to be) offended, as if one's ethnicity should determine whether or not one can excel in a certain art--as if it should dictate whether or not we should be surprised that they did. It's just plain condescending. I'll bet no one set Seiji Ozawa apart for being Asian, but for being a great conductor, whether or not the music he was conducting originated in Europe or Asia or someplace else.
The first question is, who's the greatest dead white soul singer?
The second question is, isn't such an attribution a little racist?
I refuse to say I'm not racist, because I think everyone is, in some way they're usually blind to, and plus, anytime I've ever heard anyone say, "I'm not racist . . . " the next thing to come out of their mouths is usually something that makes me want to push it back in there. I will say that the racism of which I am conscious drives me crazy and makes me really angry, but I don't usually find myself objecting anti-white racism because I don't usually notice it, and plus, I'd rather try to stick up for somebody else, I think. Maybe that's racist . . .
Anyway.
I guess I'm just asking. I'm not trying to dispute the veracity of the claim regarding Ms. Lennox. I'm just trying to unpack the implications. Which might be something like, "She's not quite as good as a black soul singer, because let's face it--she's not black. And she's unusual, because let's also face it--not many white people can sing soul."
This may or may not be true, but it seems to me that it would be better to be known as one of the greatest soul singers alive and skip the ethnicity part, than to be set apart because of skin colour. I'm pretty sure there are more white than black opera singers, but I'll bet no one says so-and-so is the greatest black opera singer alive. If they did, I think that person might be (and would have a right to be) offended, as if one's ethnicity should determine whether or not one can excel in a certain art--as if it should dictate whether or not we should be surprised that they did. It's just plain condescending. I'll bet no one set Seiji Ozawa apart for being Asian, but for being a great conductor, whether or not the music he was conducting originated in Europe or Asia or someplace else.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Surprise and Delight
If I told you how I am now the owner of the new Annie Lennox CD before its release date, I might have to kill you, but all the same, I feel somewhat smug about this and just wanted you to know that I am.
Starbucks likes to encourage its employees to "surprise and delight" the customers, and I'm afraid that's a little hard to do when you're working with a skeleton crew, all of whom have coughs and fevers, as I was yesterday. And I also feel that "surprising and delighting" might be overstating things a little here, but I still have to say that I usually am most enthusiastic about things I wasn't expecting or hadn't heard of before. This happened when I saw the Matrix (the FIRST one. I only mean the FIRST one!) and Pirates of the Caribbean (again, let me emphasise that I am referring to the FIRST movie in these trilogies). I felt this way about Blue Like Jazz. It happened with the latest OtR release. And, when I unexpectedly received Songs of Mass Destruction before the release date, I was, at least on some level, surprised and delighted.
The problem with this is that I enthuse about these things for a while and then I get embarrassed and think everyone will wonder what kind of pathetic sense of style and taste I have--and then after that the things become blockbuster hits or whatever and it's disappointing because there's nothing edgy about my liking them.
But anyway, I'm just going to put out there, before the release date, that I'm really enthusiastic about the new Annie Lennox CD. It's not like I've been an Annie Lennox fan before this, although based on the songs of hers I've heard before now, I had a hunch I might could be. ("Might could," incidentally, is a verb form I picked up from College-Roommmate-Jenne, who's originally from Alabama.) But it's nice to hear music sung by people who can actually sing. And I just like Gospel- and soul-influenced music. Even if the person singing it is kind of missing something when it comes to the Gospel. Which I think it might be accurate to say Annie Lennox is (though I'm not sure I really "get" the Gospel, either, exactly, when I think about it).
Actually, the CD is a real downer, but it's a heck of a fun downer to listen to. Wikipedia says, "The album addresses global warming, Iraq, Aids, religious conflict, global poverty and inequality." I'm afraid I'm not perceptive enough to get all that, although I do get some of it. I think mostly she just sounds really lonely and sad and sometimes angry about it, and she would like the world to be fixed.
As would I. I find the whole thing a little conflicting, because as I listen to her words I want to say, "I get what you're saying, but if you just knew Jesus . . . " And I really mean it, and I really believe it, but the fact is that I have raged with the same sentiment and almost the same words, sometimes, against that very Jesus. And I can't say that I usually feel Jesus any more than Mother Theresa did, probably. (I'm just less brave about it.) So I can't truly say why, exactly, I feel that it would make a difference to Annie Lennox in this life for her to, say, "put her faith in Him." But there is something bedrock and comforting and "nevertheless" about trusting Him anyway, or trying to. And there's something about her lyrics that remind me of Him, almost as if she were wishing He were true, but not quite willing to believe it.
Anyway. I found myself praying for her on the way home from dinner with the Molly Llama last night. And I really do like the CD.
Starbucks likes to encourage its employees to "surprise and delight" the customers, and I'm afraid that's a little hard to do when you're working with a skeleton crew, all of whom have coughs and fevers, as I was yesterday. And I also feel that "surprising and delighting" might be overstating things a little here, but I still have to say that I usually am most enthusiastic about things I wasn't expecting or hadn't heard of before. This happened when I saw the Matrix (the FIRST one. I only mean the FIRST one!) and Pirates of the Caribbean (again, let me emphasise that I am referring to the FIRST movie in these trilogies). I felt this way about Blue Like Jazz. It happened with the latest OtR release. And, when I unexpectedly received Songs of Mass Destruction before the release date, I was, at least on some level, surprised and delighted.
The problem with this is that I enthuse about these things for a while and then I get embarrassed and think everyone will wonder what kind of pathetic sense of style and taste I have--and then after that the things become blockbuster hits or whatever and it's disappointing because there's nothing edgy about my liking them.
But anyway, I'm just going to put out there, before the release date, that I'm really enthusiastic about the new Annie Lennox CD. It's not like I've been an Annie Lennox fan before this, although based on the songs of hers I've heard before now, I had a hunch I might could be. ("Might could," incidentally, is a verb form I picked up from College-Roommmate-Jenne, who's originally from Alabama.) But it's nice to hear music sung by people who can actually sing. And I just like Gospel- and soul-influenced music. Even if the person singing it is kind of missing something when it comes to the Gospel. Which I think it might be accurate to say Annie Lennox is (though I'm not sure I really "get" the Gospel, either, exactly, when I think about it).
Actually, the CD is a real downer, but it's a heck of a fun downer to listen to. Wikipedia says, "The album addresses global warming, Iraq, Aids, religious conflict, global poverty and inequality." I'm afraid I'm not perceptive enough to get all that, although I do get some of it. I think mostly she just sounds really lonely and sad and sometimes angry about it, and she would like the world to be fixed.
As would I. I find the whole thing a little conflicting, because as I listen to her words I want to say, "I get what you're saying, but if you just knew Jesus . . . " And I really mean it, and I really believe it, but the fact is that I have raged with the same sentiment and almost the same words, sometimes, against that very Jesus. And I can't say that I usually feel Jesus any more than Mother Theresa did, probably. (I'm just less brave about it.) So I can't truly say why, exactly, I feel that it would make a difference to Annie Lennox in this life for her to, say, "put her faith in Him." But there is something bedrock and comforting and "nevertheless" about trusting Him anyway, or trying to. And there's something about her lyrics that remind me of Him, almost as if she were wishing He were true, but not quite willing to believe it.
Anyway. I found myself praying for her on the way home from dinner with the Molly Llama last night. And I really do like the CD.
Friday, August 10, 2007
OtR
Thanks to jasdye, I now know that Over the Rhine has a new CD coming out this month. I also now know that I really like it; they're streaming it on their site right now. Tracks 1 and 5 are my favourites; # 5 (entitled "Trumpet Child," just like the album) kind of gives me the chills.
Just had to let you all know.
Just had to let you all know.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Pieces of Eight
That's for all of us who are looking forward to Pirates 3 . . .
Someone ("namely," A Musing Mom, though I suspect that's not really her name) tagged me to list eight random things about me. I definitely can come up with more than eight random things about me, but I'm not sure I can come up with that many that you don't already know. Still, I'll try. Here's the rules I am constrained to list, having acquiesced to the meme:
6. My house in London had a bright yellow door with the number seven next to it. I didn't live in that house until I had been in London a year, but I visited some previous residents there on the first day I arrived in London, and knew upon entering that I loved that house and was going to live in it.
7. I can say "thank you" in eleven languages.
8. I have had fifteen roommates over the course of my life, including Roommate-Sarah, and her sister (who just moved in last month), Roommate-Rachel.
I'm feeling a little stymied as to who to tag, since almost everyone I know by blog has already been hit with this one. But here goes, and if you've already gotten this one--well, consider it retroactive tagging:
Christy, Cubicle Reverend, brother Dave (even though his blog doesn't lend itself to such memes), other Dave, the Item, Christianne, Jasdye, and Peacepipes. (Peacepipes, this, of course, means that you have to get a blog.)
Someone ("namely," A Musing Mom, though I suspect that's not really her name) tagged me to list eight random things about me. I definitely can come up with more than eight random things about me, but I'm not sure I can come up with that many that you don't already know. Still, I'll try. Here's the rules I am constrained to list, having acquiesced to the meme:
- Post the rules of the game.
- Tell us about eight random facts/habits about you.
- At the end of the post, choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
- People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things.
- Leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.
Here are the eight things:
1. I play the flute with one of the worship teams at my church.
2. I have a false tooth, the original of which I lost at age seven while playing "Kitty and Doggy" with my then three-year-old brother. The tooth doesn't come out or anything, but you can tell it's there if I try to whiten my teeth; it doesn't cooperate with White Strips.
3. I have always taken seriously the oft-mocked warning, "You'll poke an eye out!" This is because, as a young girl, my grandmother actually did get her eye poked out while playing with some friends. (Maybe I mean "friends.") I have some really cool Grandma's-glass-eye stories, but they, I feel, are not germaine to this post. (I inherited the artificial-facial-feature trait from her.)
4. While in college I used, on a fairly regular basis, to climb out of the fifth floor window of the Billy Graham Center at Wheaton College, inch along the ledge up there to the next window, shove it open, hoist myself in, and open up the attic door from the inside so my friends and I could play sardines and have surprise parties up there. During my senior year, Public Safety or someone put a metal grill over the window, and an alarm on the door.
6. My house in London had a bright yellow door with the number seven next to it. I didn't live in that house until I had been in London a year, but I visited some previous residents there on the first day I arrived in London, and knew upon entering that I loved that house and was going to live in it.
7. I can say "thank you" in eleven languages.
8. I have had fifteen roommates over the course of my life, including Roommate-Sarah, and her sister (who just moved in last month), Roommate-Rachel.
I'm feeling a little stymied as to who to tag, since almost everyone I know by blog has already been hit with this one. But here goes, and if you've already gotten this one--well, consider it retroactive tagging:
Christy, Cubicle Reverend, brother Dave (even though his blog doesn't lend itself to such memes), other Dave, the Item, Christianne, Jasdye, and Peacepipes. (Peacepipes, this, of course, means that you have to get a blog.)
Saturday, March 31, 2007
7 Songs . . .
Cool.
The Cubicle Reverend recently tagged me to list "7 Songs I'm Digging." I so don't talk like that. I'm also painfully insecure about my musical taste. Still, I've never been blog-tagged before, so I feel that I should show my appreciation by playing along. (Thanks, Cube-Rev!)
Here's my list:
King's X: "Sometime." Because sometimes I feel like doing pretty much all the things those guys say they sometimes feel like doing.
Tracy Chapman: "Change." I'm pretty sure she's coming at it from a "chill out, you religious fundamentalist" point of view, but you can turn the lyrics right around and take it from the other perspective, and plus, she asks some good questions.
Charitie Bancroft: "Before the Throne of God Above." I don't remember who "re-tuned" it for postmodern worshippers (though I'm glad they did, because the tune on the link is really kind of plodding and molassesey), but it's a great song about God's grace. The truth is in there. Plus, singing it makes me feel like I'm telling the soul-scorching aspects of the universe, "So there!"
Kirk Franklin: "Hosanna." I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the literal meaning of the word "hosanna" (Lord deliver us), but this song has dredged me out of the depths more times . . .
Ben Harper. I'm hardpressed to pick a favourite song from this guy. I like that he does quiet, mellow stuff, and then sometimes screams his head off. A mellow song I like is "Two Hands of a Prayer"--which hints pleasantly at a good relationship (or something). My favourite screaming-his-head-off song is "So High So Low," which is . . . pretty much the opposite. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Over the Rhine: "Happy With Myself." The more my life-confidence grows, the more I resonate with this.
I think that's seven, since I gave Ben Harper two. But maybe I can sneak in another one: I feel that I would be remiss in not also highlighting my friend Brooks and Hey Now, Morris Fader and their song "On My Way."
And now I tag . . . . the Daves. And Stacey. And if there's a Matt lurking around here whom I knew in days of yore ('cause I heard there might be), I'm tagging you, too.
Cool.
The Cubicle Reverend recently tagged me to list "7 Songs I'm Digging." I so don't talk like that. I'm also painfully insecure about my musical taste. Still, I've never been blog-tagged before, so I feel that I should show my appreciation by playing along. (Thanks, Cube-Rev!)
Here's my list:
King's X: "Sometime." Because sometimes I feel like doing pretty much all the things those guys say they sometimes feel like doing.
Tracy Chapman: "Change." I'm pretty sure she's coming at it from a "chill out, you religious fundamentalist" point of view, but you can turn the lyrics right around and take it from the other perspective, and plus, she asks some good questions.
Charitie Bancroft: "Before the Throne of God Above." I don't remember who "re-tuned" it for postmodern worshippers (though I'm glad they did, because the tune on the link is really kind of plodding and molassesey), but it's a great song about God's grace. The truth is in there. Plus, singing it makes me feel like I'm telling the soul-scorching aspects of the universe, "So there!"
Kirk Franklin: "Hosanna." I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the literal meaning of the word "hosanna" (Lord deliver us), but this song has dredged me out of the depths more times . . .
Ben Harper. I'm hardpressed to pick a favourite song from this guy. I like that he does quiet, mellow stuff, and then sometimes screams his head off. A mellow song I like is "Two Hands of a Prayer"--which hints pleasantly at a good relationship (or something). My favourite screaming-his-head-off song is "So High So Low," which is . . . pretty much the opposite. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Over the Rhine: "Happy With Myself." The more my life-confidence grows, the more I resonate with this.
I think that's seven, since I gave Ben Harper two. But maybe I can sneak in another one: I feel that I would be remiss in not also highlighting my friend Brooks and Hey Now, Morris Fader and their song "On My Way."
And now I tag . . . . the Daves. And Stacey. And if there's a Matt lurking around here whom I knew in days of yore ('cause I heard there might be), I'm tagging you, too.
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