In the Key of Ow
My morning routine changed today. I think I like the new version:
1) Wake up, slowly, a few minutes before the alarm. Don’t go back to sleep. Body will thank you for not cramming adrenaline into it so early.
2) Do morning e-mail and webcomic troll as usual to activate brain.
3) Once brain is functional enough, make and eat breakfast. Do not wait until you’re running out the door to shove breakfast down throat.
4) Shower, dress, and leave for work.
This works far better than previous routines. Let’s see if I can keep it up.
Last night, I went to see the Dresden Dolls at the Norva. They’re an extremely offbeat duo, but I was hooked on my first listening by their wild energy, odd humor, and musical skill. Amanda Palmer plays her keyboard like an insane person, hitting the keys with the flats of her fingers, rocking back and forth on her stool, tucking a knee under her chin, and yet delivering one of the most complex and precise performances I’ve ever heard. Translate that to drums, and you have Brian Viglione’s playing; on top of that, they seem to telepathically communicate during the show, improvising crazily and yet in sync. I had to go.
My body regrets that today. There’s little-to-no seating there, and my left knee can honestly barely support me today after 5.5 hours of standing. I am seriously considering bringing the forearm crutches to my next Norva show, to help hold me up. However, it was certainly worth it – they played my favorites, “Coin-Operated Boy” and “Girl Anachronism“, new material, and material they’re preparing for their next album. For a closer, they dragged audience members and the opening act to the stage to perform Led Zepplin’s “Immigrant Song” and then cleared everyone off for their cover of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs”. You cannot understand how awesome that was without having been there 🙂
The oddest part: in my head, people are rated “real” by the amount with which I personally get to interact with them. For example. Bill Shatner is not especially real to me – I’ve only seen him on TV and movie screens. Leonard Nimoy is slightly more so, since I’ve been in the same room with him, but separated by a stage and a couple dozen yards. George Takei I’ve spoken to briefly, but Spice Williams and I have had a lengthy conversation.
Well, Amanda unexpectedly came down from the stage in the middle of one of her songs, and continued singing as she walked around the balcony and through the fans on the floor, passing within a yard of me several times. Suddenly, her ‘real’ quotient in my head jumped dramatically, and I was quite surprised. (I was proud of my fellow Virginians, who did not mob or crowd her, but let her move freely around and respected her performance. One lady, sadly, took the chance to grope her quite unsubtly, which rattled Amanda enough that she expressed her distress on her return to the keyboard. But it didn’t dampen the evening.)
I’m pleased with the way the week’s started. I even bumped into a White Plectrum fan on the way to the concert. (“I recognize the jacket – did you work with the filk singer? I love his stuff, I can’t believe you live around here!”) Now I am sending down more blessed ibuprofen to quiet this stupid knee.
Shift Change
I enjoy staying up late. I’d read in bed until (gasp!) 8:30 or 9 as a little kid, with nothing more than a red night light (one reason I think my night vision got pretty good, and why I have to wear sunglasses a lot during the days). As a teenager and young adult, my preferred sleep schedule was 2am – 10am, with the occasional 4am – noon if I got into something really worthy of my tunnel-focused attention.
These days, though, I’m up between 5:45 and 6 every morning, and just being able to drive to work without major injury means I’d better be in bed by 11. 10 would be better; 9:30’s been known to happen. It made this year’s New Year’s Eve a little duller than I’d planned, let me tell you.
Well, my quasi-conscious train of thought upon leaving REM sleep this morning went as follows:
Voice 1: Dude, why on earth did we put the clock where we can’t easily see it without moving? It’s gotta be about 5:40, the alarm’s gonna hit any minute.
Voice 2: No, no, this is our semi-regular 3:30 Brief Moment of Pseudo-Lucidity. Just roll over and go back to sleep.
Voice 1: Yeah, you’re probably right. But let’s wiggle over and get Line-of-Sight on the clock just to be sure.
Voice 2: Uh-oh. 6:30? We didn’t set the alarm, did we?
Voice 1: Dude, and you were the one who wanted to go back to sleep.
Funny thing is, since I awoke naturally, I felt much better this morning. And I still managed to get to work on time.
To-Do Listing
This was supposed to be the week where I caught up on sleep and email and life. I think I’m about 83% caught up on email, but the rest of it all still needs some work!
Just had to write another program book blurb about me. I hate doing that, I never feel like I’m any good at selling myself. But I’m pleased with how it came out, so I’ll consider it additional experience in an unfamiliar writing style.
I found today the Federation Models (http://www.federationmodels.com/) website which has all the customization pieces I wanted to complete the Grin’elle Kriet-era U.S.S. Yeager model kit. This is really tickling the bits of my brain that want to dig out the Dremel Tool and styrene glue again.
This concept is Anathema
Did you know that, as recently as the eighteenth century, “engine” meant any generic “device” or “tool”?
Of course, in the twenty-first century, “engine” almost always means “machine that provides motive power”. We still, though, have some leftover of the old meaning when we talk about someone who designs, maintains, or operates devices and tools as an “engineer”.
In the older usage, a loom might be a “weaving engine”, a crane a “lifting engine”, or a computer a “calculating engine”.
The only reason this is on my mind at all is that, while waking up this morning, and sorting and filing the loose random thoughts of a foggy brain, I suddenly heard Scotty warning that “The devices canna take tha strrain!”
…
Look, it’s not like I’m charging you admission.
Frankie Say Relax
The other day it was cold enough for me to wear my Fourth Doctor scarf to work. This morning it’s so warm I didn’t really need a jacket, and there are mightily-confused birds singing in the trees.
Elfie.org seems to have been down since yesterday. How am I supposed to see all your comments of love and adoration without my e-mail? Sob. Weep.
I was unsettled and short-tempered all weekend, and I’m not really sure why. Was it a late bout of S.A.D.? Have I been obsessing too much about my sundry responsibilities? Or was it just my time of the month? Not sure, but I’m done with it, and I’m determined that this week is going to be a week where I get things done and yet enjoy myself.
And I’m-a gonna crack this Writer’s Block I’ve been having right down the middle, yes sirree.
