« June 2006 | Main | August 2006 »
July 30, 2006
when I get a brand new hairdoo
West has a date! West has a date! West has a date – hey hey hey hey!.
Can you believe it an actual date. Where he picks me up. We go for coffee and chatting. I’ll get all pretty, and he’ll drive.
A real date.
*sigh*
Posted by west at 12:33 AM | Comments (6)
July 25, 2006
"major" dilemma
So I switched my major again today to graphic design/fine arts.
I have a semi moral problem with it though. Even though I’m CRAZY about graphic design and art, I feel kinda like I need to be doing something that gives back more to the world. I keep telling myself art is important, it’s how humans grow and express, and that that’s important to society as a whole.
But the nun in me tells me to become a social worker, or a phsyciatrist, or a deacon, or something that helps someone more then looking at a piece of art.
I have to hold true:
“Don’t try to be a great (wo)man, just be a (wo)man”
Posted by west at 09:19 PM | Comments (2)
July 24, 2006
Equidistant
Dear Christ almighty, what a weekend.
I wound up taking a bus all the way up to Port Authority, NY to go stay with my sister in Little Neck. The whole ride through the Lincoln Tunnel was stop and go, from the stretch of the Turn Pike, right into MidTown. And the bus driver took “stop and go” quite literally. When it was “go” time he’d punch it, and have to stomp on the breaks when it was “stop” time.
There was a Muslim family of about 8 in front of me, and one very frightened, ill-informed, white man behind me, shaking in his seat and muttering “oh god” under his breath every time one of the 8 made a move he thought was too quick or jerky. It was semi entertaining for the first 20 minutes, kind of a study on the reaction of the general white guy, but after about hour three I wanted to smack the living shit out of him.
NY was waaaay too fugging hot, and I never appreciated central air more then I did, sleeping in my sis’s, box air only, housing unit.
My family unit is a bit unconventional. The family that I sayed with is hardcore Korean, Buddhist, Yankees, and I’m a southern, white, Catholic…
So how are these people related to me you might ask? Well sit down and take notes:
My father was married to another woman before my mother, who couldn’t have children.
They adopted my Sister from a Korean lady, who couldn’t take care of her.
Dad divorced said woman.
Married my mom.
Korean lady had three other boys.
Sister was always close with Korean family.
Sister became Buddhist, and started learning Korean.
Dad and Mom had me.
Dad got custody of Sister.
I was born.
Sister and I grew up together, 11 years apart from each other.
Lived together for 8 years.
Sister moved out to NY with Korean family.
I visited Korean family frequently.
Summing it up I have:
1 Adopted Half Sister
3 non legally or blood related Korean “Brothers”
1 non related ‘adoptive’ OMA, or Sister’s birth mom.
2 birth parents…
crazy, huh?
Posted by west at 02:41 PM | Comments (3)
July 20, 2006
Smack
OK, so I think I want to try out my material on an open mike night. Not like the one we have planned for beatnik happy hour, but like, comedy club open mike night. I think I could be really good; I just don’t have any idea what I’m doing.
I’m always the kind of girl who tells stories that no one knows when they’re finished. You know what the hell I’m talking about, right? the awkward silence that comes after a story that has no point. That could be bad for business.
I need material…other then me hating Mary Kate Olsen.
Ok new topic:
So I work with mainly male architects, but the firm hired two other, 20 and + girls. It’s like a fucking dormitory over here now. We’re decorating each others’ cubicals, going tanning instead of going to lunch, braiding each other’s hair, and talking smack about other people.
I swear I’ve never been this girly in my life.
It’s like a disease, where I automatically talk cute, and have no desire for substance in my life.
I love my co-workers. I don’t get friends very often….
Posted by west at 04:42 PM | Comments (2)
Hold on baby
Blargh, I fugging showed up to work around 8 in the morning which is unholy.
Maybe I’ll read more of my nerdy books, and wait for people to show up.
Maybe I’ll say “fuck you diet!” and go get breakfast from the deli down the street.
Maybe I’ll go smoke until I see the Face of God, and ask him what to do.
Posted by west at 08:28 AM | Comments (9)
July 17, 2006
everyone needs to stop hating Arabs and Hans Zimmer
Everyone needs to stop hating Arabs. Arabs are our friends. [this post was edited; used to say: Muslims are or friends, but i was very tired and cranky at the time I wrote it so don't get pissy with me, I made a brain-typo. Thaanks Mal]
Ok so music review time. Oh and yeah, graduating from Music High School, interning at the BSO, and singing with countless groups at the Hippo, Lyric, and Myerhoff, as well as teaching for six years does qualify me to do this, so shut up bitches. You know who you are.
While Pirates of the Caribbean - Dead Man's Chest was not the sequel most of us were looking forward to, there has to be some consideration for the Score.
Hans Zimmer is mostly known for his complete crediting (even though it was a collaboration) in Gladiator and Black Hawk Down. He takes a break from his Chinese Harp thing he had going on there and gives us a new, playful, sometimes- time period appropriate score for Pirates 2.
Let’s take the most downloaded piece as an example. Named amply 'Wheel of Fortune" (most likely for the huge fight scene in the movie) this piece is a Hodge podge of the main themes in the movie.
Opening us with not so good synth and violins, it immediately has a beat kept up by violins two and a mixture of percussion. Orchestration quickly comes in (thank GOD) and there are random male voices in the back ground that sound more like an Army "HUUAH" then anything else. For lack of things to do Zimmer quickly transitions into "Jack's theme" and ads a shit load of gongs.
We slow down and we hit, the CELLOS....well if Zimmer didn't do anything else correct he sure as hell hit it with the cellos. Now I am a cellist, so I'm a little biased, but it was good...really.
Shit I'm listening to it now and there is more of that overly epic music box to organ-esque drama.
More cellos come in, theme, then followed by orchestra. Love that cello. Not to mention the performer is really GOOD.
THE MAN THE....shit caps locks, where were we..o, ok, the man changes which theme he's in more then I change my underwear, and this piece is waaaaay too short. I mean, it's the bloody end tittles, keep it going.
All and all, ignore the synthesizer, and the sporadic turrets like quality of the piece (not to mention he tried way too hard on the ending) and everything’s ok. Download it for shits and giggles it's cute. Or email me up ( westwinnebago@gmail.com ) and I'll send it to you, itunes style.
Pat on the back Hans Zimmer, you can do it by yourself, and you don't need training wheels anymore.
Posted by west at 10:32 AM | Comments (4)
July 13, 2006
info up
I cried today. At work, no less. I reread my last post, and all the comments I got, and it was really odd, how bloggers I hardly know care more about me then some of the people in my life.
God damn, I’m a sap.
It’s just…well…I don’t know…an emotional time fore me perhaps?
I’ll end this tear fest now.
Ok , for those who’ve been asking about the beatnik-coffee-poetry night, I’ve been trying to find the right place to do it. There is this place on Fayette St. Wednesday nights around 7 pm. If anyone has a better idea please let me know.
Anyone who’s interested email me @ b43@b-43.com and tell me you wanna.
Posted by west at 04:28 PM | Comments (5)
July 11, 2006
more then we can handle
Now in danger of being overtly pitiful, I'm going to carefully explain why I havn't been posting very much latley.
Brachial Plexis Neuropathy. Or atleast thats what they told me. It's a nerve condition where you're in a fair bit of pain, and to make the pain stop they give you medication that just makes you sicker. (In honor of Malnurtured's post, lets just call it ironic). So when I cant feel my fingers I wind up wrenching for hours, face first in a toilette, because apparently that's a fair trade. When my back tightens, giving me headaches, I tremble on the ground with hotflashes from the narcotics. Again, considered fair trade.
Keeping up?
So here I am, three years after the mystery diagnosis (I love that show!), and I still cant get rid of the pain. I cant play cello anymore, wich means I had to have a complete course correction on where my life was going.
For those of you who dont know I was an up and coming amature cellist, with shows and recordings lined up for months. I went to high school specifically for it. I got a scholership to a top tier University for it. I taught music and singing and cello for years. And now I cant play without winding up on the floor, passed out from the pain.
Now, yes I did have the woe-as-me phase, explaining my condidtion to everyone I met, crying horribly as the use of my fingeres waved in and out. But I like to think of that stage as over. Yes it's still hard, yes it still hurts, and yes, I'll admit I get very very depressed.
People still seem to think that when ever I am in pain I over react, because they dont understand. It's not a pain they can see. I have no scars, no casts, no battle wounds to help illustrate my condition and so accordingly:
When I cry, I'm little and selfish
When I laugh, I'm hysterical
When I'm brave, I'm fake.
But I can tell you 7 MRIs, EEGs, EKGs, nerve conduction tests, 2 spinal taps, 47 blood tests, 9 neurologists, 3 Physiatrists, 2 Orthopiedics, 2 Physical Therapists, and one Accupuncturist later...the pain is very reall.
So the point of me explaining all this is...that it is very hard to type (even though I did wind up typing ALL of this) and I have bad periods where posts will be few and far between.
But I am alive, and I've grown. No longer do I explain my plight to every person I meet, no longer do I cry at every sharp pain, and no longer do I blame God.
I've used this experience in fact, and, as things undoubtedly happen for a reason, I've even helped other musicians facing this relentless, career ending beast of nerve damage. I've visited hospitals, and posted on message boards, and maybe I'm supposed to have this "condition" if only to give others a little bit of comfort, friendship and hope. Maybe this is a backwards gift from God, to shake me up, and get me going.
All I know is, He dosn't give us more then we can handle.
[---this entry was edited---]
Posted by west at 02:35 PM | Comments (9)
update
ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT already, don't get your panties in a twist, I'll post, I SWEAR!
God to think the handful of readers I have are HARASSING me, becuase I decide to take a little break. I'm around, scouts honor ^.^.....Atleast you miss me.
Anyways, work is neurotic, I have no sex life, and my friends are avoiding me.
end of story.
I'll write more when I'm in a more cynicall mood, and my boss isnt running around
Posted by west at 10:08 AM | Comments (5)
July 06, 2006
hyper coffee monkey robot beatnick go!
Ok, so I've been out of it for a little while, but I really don't have that much to say right now. My life is kind of in a stand still, where I don't feel like I live in my own house anymore. I'm kind of a guest, who just steals all their food.
Work is...well work, and yes GOD I know I have the best job an 18 year old could ever get, but that dosn't mean it's all peaches and cream. I wish I knew WHAT the fuck was expected of me here. I don't even know my own job title much less what project I'm working on.
However I LOVE it when companies talk to me on the phone, then come in to visit, and they see this little girl taking care of the $5,000 printers or the quarter page ads. Marketing and IT, thats me damn it, and htey better get used to it, cause I ain't going anywhere.
Ok enough of power bitch buisness suit beached whale shit, I'm a little chiller then that.
I've decided that we bloggers are poets and activists. Thats the only way any of use could write half the shit we do. And as that said, I think we need to go to open mike night somewhere. Who's with me, you beatnicks?!? Fuck the happy hours, lets drink coffee and tell each other how much better we are then everyone else!
BALTIMORE BLOGGER'S OPEN MIKE NIGHT!!!
By God it's a crazy day in the office. I'm running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. One printer broke completley, the other $7,500 printer is just way too scary for me to touch. And I'M THE PRINTER GIRL. I just need to calm down
coffe an west DON'T MIX!!!
Posted by west at 12:12 PM | Comments (5)
July 01, 2006
fat driver
In lieu of making this blog a weight loss diary, I'm just gonna let people know that I'm fat.
WAIT! don't stop reading! I promise this wont become one of those angsty teen journals OR one of those middle age weepy i'm going to eat yogurt only diarys. PLUS i'm not 200 lbs, I just got a little more giggle then I'd like.
I reached a new high today on the scale thats all, and then my family told me i was fat and then I decided to not eat anything. ever.
OK, OK, it's not that bad, it's just...well you know, ripping all the self esteem I had left right out of my heart, and it devouring in front of me.
Plus my best friend is 5'8" and weighs like 110, but...you know...what ever.
I'm always left behind as the hot girls fat best friend. Do you have any idea what its like? I'm the pretty girls, ugly friend at the bar that no one wants to talk to till they've had a few drinks. I'm the one 60 yr old men want to touch at the counter.
Eh, I'll get over it I guess, my idea of self image wavers every two days, and I'll buy myself new shoes and I'll be fine. I mean Marylin Monroe was a size 12 right? Or maybe thats just what fat girls tell themselves to make them feel better.
Ok new topic:
I, really, never got my lisence. DONT ask me why, I couldn't giv e you an answer. People younger and my age look at me like I got the plague, like I'm some sort of freak that if they get near they'll get driving cooties. To tell the truth I just never had time. When you're @ school 12 hours a day it limits you're choices.
So I just passed drivers ed a few fridays ago, and I was drivin with the instructor today (I do have my permit) and I PARALLELELELEL PARKED. Yes ladies and gentle men. I Parked. All by my freaking self. I did it. Yes. Me. Cause I'm the shit.
Freedom here I come.
...now all i need...is a car :(
Posted by west at 12:34 PM | Comments (4)