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ysobelleIt's been a strange few weeks. Everyone's asking me if I'm okay, and I am. Sad. Philosophical. Frustrated, perhaps, but I knew "even in its earliest bud" that this was, most likely, inevitable. I might as well cry at the moon for all the good it'll do me.
So of course I went to Ohio. And, for good measure, Ann Arbor. The latter was up in the air until the very last minute, when we decided to be brave and daring and just go anyway, weather be damned. My friend Don made us a lovely French dinner, and I am extremely glad to say that this time, thank G-d, I did not get violently ill afterwards. We think the last unfortunate reaction may have been to chickpeas-- vindictive little things that they sometimes are. But this time, all was well. Toast soup, I say! Don led us to his home theatre, and I will never again allow anyone to claim THEY have a home theatre unless it's run by an A/V geek who also happens to be an astrophysicist, and unless said theatre has a four by seven foot screen. Such decadence, all unlooked-for.
We also went for a brief tour of downtown Ann Arbor, such as it is, which is utterly charming. Don took us into The Ark, a small, cabaret-style venue at which Over the Rhine often plays. We were also lured into a wonderful little bookstore called, to continue the nautical theme, The Dawn Treader. I got an Elfquest Gatherum, and a tiny book of Jewish quotes, so I'm happy.
The drive from there, which we began at 1am, was one of the most hideous I've ever experienced. I didn't say so at the time, but I'm guessing the white knuckles, the audibly creaking wrists, and the steel rods in my neck may have been giveaways. We finally had to switch-- I just couldn't handle it. We spent several tense minutes peering into the maelstrom of flurries in front of us, trying to figure out what kind of cars, off in the distance, had three taillights, until we realised we were looking at a semi that was actually perhaps thirty feet ahead. We made it to Ohio before we had to stop to sleep a while, and then back to Baltimore almost without further incident. I wasn't conscious for most of the trip, but I'm told we passed a total of fifteen accidents-- two of them featuring cars entirely upside-down.
L was already here when I got home, passed out on the couch. Not even dropping my suitcase on the kitten woke him, which is a sort of justice as he told me said kitten had kept him up most of the night before he'd figured out he could close off my bathroom and bedroom and lock "the black tornado" out. We flopped on the couch together and watched the news, arguing philosophically about whether this newest development really means anything in the larger scheme of things, and what it's going to mean for the Democrats in the election. He thinks nothing, I pray it's so, but I have fears it won't end up helping us. This is all aside from the fact that I'm glad Hussein'll stand trial for his incomprehensible-to-me crimes. He'll never pay as much as he should, however. Never.
The Over the Rhine show itself, by the way, was wonderful. Karin was in full voice, and it was glorious to hear. This is what I posted to the list:
*****
Yes, tonight was utterly fabulous, though a serious damper for me was the trio of chimpanzees directly behind me who, with voices like breaking glass, talked all through Susan Enan's lovely, spare set, and all through Pedro the Lion (whom I liked mildly until the last song and his parting political commentary, which, screaming liberal that I am, I loved) and began to talk all through the first few songs of OtR, until Anita finally turned in her best mommy face and shh'd them-- FAR more politely than I would have done. Said trio gave her ugly looks, and one snapped, "Well, stop flipping your hair!" which I can only assume was directed to me. Their logic was obviously as sub-par as their manners.
I feel better now.
Karin got a special birthday gift tonight, aside from the cake and the singing of Happy Birthday: as she was finishing-- what was it? the one our fabulous duo both does on the keys-- one of the tall glass pillar candles tipped right off the organ and splashed both Karin and Linford with hot wax. Now, in context, that's kinda kinky, yeah, but I can imagine it being a tad disruptive. Troupers that they are, they finished bravely and soldiered on.
Oh, what a lovely evening. I finally got to put faces with names: Eric, Zayne, Kylie, Johnny, and-- finally!-- Rhys! amongst others. And getting to see Jay and Lynz, Dan and Margarita, Rick, Debbie, Drew and Wendy, Bru-Say, bink and Beth of course, and so many others-- that's what it's all about for me. Okay, that plus the show.
One comment making the rounds, though, was about one face not present this evening: Paul "Smoky" Moak. Matt Slocum [note: of Sixpence None The Richer] did a fabulous job on guitars, along with Devon Ashley on drums and Rick Plant on bass. But after seeing the tear-it-up job Paul did at the North Star in October, I have to admit I missed him badly. And no, not just cos he's cute. He was astonishing on the many instruments he played, and the bottom of my jaw was rubbed raw from the North Star's hardwood floors when he was done. He was the only thing-- with the exception of a soundproof wall behind me-- that could have made this evening better.
Though if the rest of the Lostees here manage to get the fire in Bru-Say's hearth going without structural damage, I'm gonna be pretty jazzed about that, too.
*****
I've been out-of-temper and moody for too long now. Bah! I shall learn to juggle cats, perhaps.
So of course I went to Ohio. And, for good measure, Ann Arbor. The latter was up in the air until the very last minute, when we decided to be brave and daring and just go anyway, weather be damned. My friend Don made us a lovely French dinner, and I am extremely glad to say that this time, thank G-d, I did not get violently ill afterwards. We think the last unfortunate reaction may have been to chickpeas-- vindictive little things that they sometimes are. But this time, all was well. Toast soup, I say! Don led us to his home theatre, and I will never again allow anyone to claim THEY have a home theatre unless it's run by an A/V geek who also happens to be an astrophysicist, and unless said theatre has a four by seven foot screen. Such decadence, all unlooked-for.
We also went for a brief tour of downtown Ann Arbor, such as it is, which is utterly charming. Don took us into The Ark, a small, cabaret-style venue at which Over the Rhine often plays. We were also lured into a wonderful little bookstore called, to continue the nautical theme, The Dawn Treader. I got an Elfquest Gatherum, and a tiny book of Jewish quotes, so I'm happy.
The drive from there, which we began at 1am, was one of the most hideous I've ever experienced. I didn't say so at the time, but I'm guessing the white knuckles, the audibly creaking wrists, and the steel rods in my neck may have been giveaways. We finally had to switch-- I just couldn't handle it. We spent several tense minutes peering into the maelstrom of flurries in front of us, trying to figure out what kind of cars, off in the distance, had three taillights, until we realised we were looking at a semi that was actually perhaps thirty feet ahead. We made it to Ohio before we had to stop to sleep a while, and then back to Baltimore almost without further incident. I wasn't conscious for most of the trip, but I'm told we passed a total of fifteen accidents-- two of them featuring cars entirely upside-down.
L was already here when I got home, passed out on the couch. Not even dropping my suitcase on the kitten woke him, which is a sort of justice as he told me said kitten had kept him up most of the night before he'd figured out he could close off my bathroom and bedroom and lock "the black tornado" out. We flopped on the couch together and watched the news, arguing philosophically about whether this newest development really means anything in the larger scheme of things, and what it's going to mean for the Democrats in the election. He thinks nothing, I pray it's so, but I have fears it won't end up helping us. This is all aside from the fact that I'm glad Hussein'll stand trial for his incomprehensible-to-me crimes. He'll never pay as much as he should, however. Never.
The Over the Rhine show itself, by the way, was wonderful. Karin was in full voice, and it was glorious to hear. This is what I posted to the list:
*****
Yes, tonight was utterly fabulous, though a serious damper for me was the trio of chimpanzees directly behind me who, with voices like breaking glass, talked all through Susan Enan's lovely, spare set, and all through Pedro the Lion (whom I liked mildly until the last song and his parting political commentary, which, screaming liberal that I am, I loved) and began to talk all through the first few songs of OtR, until Anita finally turned in her best mommy face and shh'd them-- FAR more politely than I would have done. Said trio gave her ugly looks, and one snapped, "Well, stop flipping your hair!" which I can only assume was directed to me. Their logic was obviously as sub-par as their manners.
I feel better now.
Karin got a special birthday gift tonight, aside from the cake and the singing of Happy Birthday: as she was finishing-- what was it? the one our fabulous duo both does on the keys-- one of the tall glass pillar candles tipped right off the organ and splashed both Karin and Linford with hot wax. Now, in context, that's kinda kinky, yeah, but I can imagine it being a tad disruptive. Troupers that they are, they finished bravely and soldiered on.
Oh, what a lovely evening. I finally got to put faces with names: Eric, Zayne, Kylie, Johnny, and-- finally!-- Rhys! amongst others. And getting to see Jay and Lynz, Dan and Margarita, Rick, Debbie, Drew and Wendy, Bru-Say, bink and Beth of course, and so many others-- that's what it's all about for me. Okay, that plus the show.
One comment making the rounds, though, was about one face not present this evening: Paul "Smoky" Moak. Matt Slocum [note: of Sixpence None The Richer] did a fabulous job on guitars, along with Devon Ashley on drums and Rick Plant on bass. But after seeing the tear-it-up job Paul did at the North Star in October, I have to admit I missed him badly. And no, not just cos he's cute. He was astonishing on the many instruments he played, and the bottom of my jaw was rubbed raw from the North Star's hardwood floors when he was done. He was the only thing-- with the exception of a soundproof wall behind me-- that could have made this evening better.
Though if the rest of the Lostees here manage to get the fire in Bru-Say's hearth going without structural damage, I'm gonna be pretty jazzed about that, too.
*****
I've been out-of-temper and moody for too long now. Bah! I shall learn to juggle cats, perhaps.
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-15 12:54 pm (UTC)BTW: I went to bed at 8-something-pm last night. I woke up this morning with a message from YOUR MOTHER on my cell phone: apparently she called me at 9:45pm, worried about your whereabouts, and I didn't even hear the phone ring.
Please tell me you called her soon after that and she doesn't think I was purposely ignoring her call! Ugh.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-15 03:30 pm (UTC)Ha! And I thought I was being too much of a control freak, wanting to drive my own car. I was worried you'd think I didn't trust you. :)
I wouldn't have asked you to drive in it at all except that my eyes were closing involuntarily... I really needed that nap on the way out of Ann Arbor. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-15 09:17 pm (UTC)Even if you didn't get to see me. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2003-12-16 08:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-16 08:02 am (UTC)Part of me enjoyed that quite a bit. I'm such a sadistic witch sometimes.