is john roberts inbred?

...he kind of looks it. Or maybe he just shares that same, vacant expression that Bush is always wearing...which leads to the question, 'Is George W. inbred as well?'

So I'm just sitting in the common room, watching I love the 90's by myself, and laughing out loud. Or rather, guffawing. I do the same thing when I'm watching Family Guy. But moreso with I love the 90's. I think. Michael Ian Black is living proof that funny guys are super attractive. BREAK ME OFF A PIECE OF THAT (kit kat bar)
My suitemate (the one with the snakes) in the other room probably hears me and thinks I'm retarded, but.......she has snakes in a glass tank a few feet away from her bed. So that means that her opinion isn't really valid. (shrug)


I thought I was going crazy in my Nat. Sci lecture this morning. It might have been the slight dehydration & iced coffee pumping into my bloodstream, but I had to keep taking deep breaths. Oh wait, I know what this is, it's called 'CAN IT PLEASE BE THE FUCKING WEEKEND ALREADY'

the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking

I need to drink more water.

Also, I haven't been to Gray's since I've been back in the city. Not even ONCE. How sad is that. If I lived closer, I'd go out now and jump at the recession special. But I don't, and I'm not trekking all the way.

I like that it's autumn; it's flip-flop & scarf season! (insert happy sigh)

Mike touched up "Silent Film" and it sounds so good. The 8mm running in the back is just...parfait.

Did I mention my new speakers? They're fantabulous.

I get more and more irritated with NYU people in general. Someone prove my "NYU kids suck (except for some individuals who totally rock)" theory wrong. I mean, whatever. I shouldn't complain, I guess.

On another note, I absolutely adore running into random friends on campus. Chance acquaintances make me ecstatic.

Mais en generale, I'm just really indifferent towards most people, most things. And I mean, really indifferent. I think I can tell just from my reaction when people opine about my new music. It's just like, "Don't like my music? GREAAAAT because I don't give a flying fuck if it doesn't float your boat."
Whereas, it used to be like "Let me absorb all of your opinions and really meditate on them."
Yeah......................no.
I probably sound like such a douche right now. Whatever. I'm just bored of being so superficial all the time.

By the way, one of the best line from Mean Girls, when the short squat girl tells Damian to get out of the girls' bathroom:
"OH MY GOD - DANNY DEVITO! I LOVE YOUR WORK!"
....but what an unfortunate cameo for that short squat girl. I guess everyone has to start somewhere...?

the more i see you

Thank god for long problem sets due tomorrow for Intl. Politics.

...otherwise, my room wouldn't be this clean. And my bed wouldn't be made. And my closet wouldn't be organized.


Lately I've been lost deep in some primordial state of mind, in which vacant and incoherent memories just kind of float around, distracting me from what's really going on.

My Russian Lit class could be be better...but the reading itself is amazing. I dont know what it is about Russian writers, but we've got the "same wavelength" thing going on. So far we've read some Pushkin and Lermontov, both really terrific writers. Also, I never thought I'd actually enjoy required reading for a science class, but Brian Greene's "The Fabric of the Cosmos" is actually bearable, on the verge of being enjoyable. The concept of absolute spacetime, the relationship between space and time...good stuff. Although labs = warp back to 11th grade physics, ew real science/experiments.

Anyway this is a procrastination post, and I should really finish my work.



p.s - Fitzgerald's "The Crack Up" = epitome of "same wavelength." I don't understand why the great gatsby is his big thing, because everything else I've read just seems to have so much more depth and...I don't know what the word is, but something like a fresh breeze. Or maybe I'm just underestimating Gatsby...after all, I only read it once, in 10th grade. But I'm telling you, the Fitzgerald of Gatsby and the Fitzgerald of "The Crack Up," which is more of an autobiographical....thing, is completely different. In a really interesting way.

And...I'm done.






edit.
Distracted from my reading, I picked off a picture peeking out from behind the laptop in front of me. My brother and I are sitting in a sled, he must be a year old, because I couldn't have been older than 5 or 6 in that picture. We're being pulled along on the frozen lake by my dad, who's laughing while he runs. The mountains are in the back, the same as always; the mountains never change. I have on a yellow knitted hat with a little puff on top, and I'm sticking my hand over the side, letting it skim over the snow.
I look incredibly, simply, sublimely happy; I want to feel the way I look in that picture, because I don't remember what that feels like.
This is also a testament to why I will always favor photographs over digital images. You can't run your fingers along the edges of digital pictures, you can't get sucked into the pixels and be taken to another place. If my eyes are close enough to the actual photograph I feel like my childhood is just there, almost at my fingertips if I stretch my arm out as far as I can.
Back to the days when the politics of Bosnia, Serbia, or the Cold War didn't affect me. When all I knew and cared for at that moment was seeing how close my mittened hand could get to the surface of the snow without touching it. That and the infinite sky, the infinite lake, the infinite days.

national treasure?

Yes, the Disney movie. Yes, I watched it tonight. And yes, there was negative chemistry between Nicholage Cage and Diane Kruger or whatever the hell that Helen of Troy girl is.

Anyway I'm exhausted and am about to collapse into bed, but firstly, I would like to say this:

Sometimes, I wallow in my own superficial filth.


And....moving on!
So I met up with Jordan for coffee after I got back from Columbia. It was supposed to be a quick coffee thing and then I was going to get started on the mountain of reading/work I have for the weekend.

...It turned into us sitting in the same spot in the park for almost 3 hours. People-watching, talking, just enjoying the room temperature weather. Met his freshman boy, cute kid.
Then instead of doing work after Jordan and his boytoy left, I went to the street fair where I met up with Elena and James, and where I FINALLY GOT THE MILES DAVIS LP THAT HAS 'STELLA BY STARLIGHT' ON IT!!!!!
Then came back, relaxed for a second, and then got ready for Mike's birthday dinner at A.O.C which is officially one of my favorite restaurants.
Walked around a bit afterwards, got some gelato...scratched plans to go out since we were all exhausted, and then I came back and here I am. Tired. & incoherent.

Well, who cares.

egg & cheese on a bagel

I don't know how this works, but I always end up having a South American recording engineer (with an accent) for my recording sessions. And you know how popular Pablo from Manhattan School of Music was last time, right? Well, this time his name is Kamilo, and he is a genius with ProTools. Hooooot.

But really, Kamilo was a fabulous engineer, and thanks to him and Elena my musical coach/stage mother, the recording yesterday went smoothly. Hoooorah! And Mike, being the machine that he is, has already mixed one of the songs.

So....starting next week, I recommence my habit of living in the Kimmel rehearsal rooms and letting these recordings consume my entire being. Fun!

After the recording, Elena and I got to be in Mike's heart-stopping scene that he shot for one of his classes. Heart-stopping as in, we sit at our desks occasionally talking, but mostly just staring at our own computers. For an hour.
Then, there was petty drama that needs damage control but I don't really want to care about that right now.

But at least I got to relax last night. Went up to Columbia to see Fierman, met her boyfriend, were hanging out in his suite, when my gradeschool friend Jed (from ALASKA) walks into the suite and goes "...Deborah Oh."
For a second, we're all sitting there like................................this.
And then it's just like ohmyfuckinggod how the hell did you know I was here?! And apparently he lives in that building, and was signing someone in when he saw a Deborah Oh from NYU signed in. He figured there could only be one, so he just walked into the room. It was one of the most bizarre moments ever.
Frat party, the cabbage patch, the biggest bong I've ever seen, and semi-jam session with Julia's bf. Overall, good times. I feel like I just get along better with Columbia kids...something about them not being...ohwhat'stheword...complete assholes.

Went to Nussbaums for breakfast with Jules then she went to go sort books in the library and now I must go out and have coffee with...well, you'll know later.

and that's a wrap

Here's the final track listing for "Porcelain Jigsaw," which will be recorded next Friday, and the Saturday after that. Who's PSYYYYCHEDDD? I am.

p.s - "alma" is no. 27...the very final installment.

Porcelain Jigsaw
1. Puzzle Sabotage
2. Prisms & Intentions
3. Icarus
4. Disenchantment, Stirred
5. Silent Film
6. Leaves of Grass
7. Burnt Orange
8. Velveteen
9. Gravity
10. As It Descends
11. Rome (In Replay)
12. Alma
13. Benediction

Ohhhh and Mike is letting me borrow his tape recorder. SWWWWWEEEEEEEEEET! Now I can whip it out in the middle of the street and mumble my brain farts into the mic. Score.

honestly

My new haven is on the 6th floor of Kimmel, where the rehearsal rooms are cleaner and nicer and padded. Screw the Steinhardt building, I have a new lover now.
Anyway, just got back from the haven and here's what I brought back:

"silent film"

the weekend

Triathalon (n.): Dinner @ Spice (with Pinky Mimosas/Passion Fruit Bellinis/etc), Saketinis & Kirin @ the "new" Zen, tiramisu & bellinis @ Yaffa.
...and then back to the dorm for some post-triatholon wine and mario kart/goldeneye. Jamela & Mike, I heartest thou.

Then, TMC marathon with Mike on Saturday night after making pasta. Today, finally got the Hermes scent, a skirt, and brought back the audrey poster from home.

"Benny & Joon" is adorable, although the soundtrack is awful. Johnny Depp was amazing, as per usual, and now I'm going to bed.

watch your ass...

It's the seemingly trivial things about the city that inspire me the most; like the way the sunlight splatters itself on the trees, or the way the cobblestone streets in the west village look in the morning, with that fresh smell in the air.

The new room is narrower, and the closet space is tiny, bordering on ridiculous. But I say the room has character, and am growing fond of it. And it's nice having a kitchen ( I say this as I finish eating my stale baguette sandwich...yay for no meal plan?) although sharing one bathroom with 4 other girls...not so hot. Basically, I need my own apartment.

Oh and I just have to put this in because it was so comical:
the other day I was on the phone with Stan, walking to campus, not being spacially aware (as per usual when I'm on the phone), when...
Deb: (midsentence) --AUUSL;HFHAHHG! [YELP]
Taxi speeding towards me: [HOOOONK]
Stan:........you almost got hit by a car again just now, didn't you.

most others would have been like "What happened?? Are you okay?!" but stan knows this is a regular thing.
Oh maaan. Had a good laugh over that one.

Classes are alright, but you know how it goes. I'd rather just bum around and play mario kart, read magazines and/or books (because I try to maintain my literacy), and sit in the park writing lyircs. But we can't have everything.

Last night, Elena was feeling a little down so I suggested we go out for dinner. Found a cute (reasonably priced!!!) Italian restaurant nearby, and then we got little things of Haagen Daaz afterwards and walked back. It was all very New York, everything I missed when I was away. And the man at Haagen Daaz was so nice and understanding when I told him I wanted a miniature scoop on my wafer cone (because I fail at finishing ice cream before it melts)

Think I'm going to crash the Steinhardt music floor for a bit. Then French, and Russian Lit.

Jason Mraz is at Lincoln Center October 16/17. Tickets are cheap. I'll be there, and if you want to come along, well then SHWWWEEEEET. I'm going because apparently he's better in concert than in recordings, and that's always appreciated. Although I don't really feel like I need to justify my going to a Jason Mraz concert, so there.

the mountains at 7 pm

I sat in the passenger's seat as we headed out of the fairgrounds for the last time, on the way to the airport. The boy at the gate said "will she be needing a stamp" and my dad replied "no she isn't coming back" and I moved my head from side to side a little bit and then turned to look out the window, bit my lip (although that never really works when you want it to) and focused on taking in deep breaths of the pure air because I knew I wouldn't be breathing it for some time.
And we drove towards Anchorage and the airport and it was a rare clear day and the mountains have never been so beautiful, with the first snow capping the tallest one. My dad was going on about how that meant autumn was here, but really winter because it's already getting cold and the leaves are turning but I wasn't really listening because I was trying my hardest to not cry. I mentally kicked myself for being such a sap because I'll be coming back won't I? Maybe in the winter. But I think it was the fact that I was losing that cohesive moment of family & comfort & security and going back to the city where I'm alone and strong but fragile at the same time, do you know that feeling. I hated that I was losing my grip on that moment, and I hated time for moving on when I didn't want it to.


But here I am, ready to get back in the swing of things, although I'm really not. On my way to the salon to do something with this mess that is my hair. And then packing. And then moving in tomorrow.

I think I've changed a little this summer. I'm a little more merciless, but a little more loving at the same time. Not both at once, of course, but...you'll see, I suppose.

the ejection seat

today, my brother and i were slingshot 120+ feet up into the air. relatively early in the afternoon. the rush works a hell of a lot better than coffee, i can tell you that much.
so basically, it was flippin tubular. we didn't spin that much, which was a bummer, but on that first fall we were facing the ground so you can imagine how that was. i screamed like a maniac.

it was pretty sweet.

also pretty sweet was seeing a dim aurora maybe half an hour ago. it got suddenly cold tonight - like november cold in the city - and it was clear, and my dad was saying how it was a good night for an aurora when there it was...no color, just this pale banner hanging in the sky. i thought it was the milky way but it couldn't have been that close and big. so there you go. human slingshot & a summer aurora all in one day...both of them being firsts.

and the timing couldn't have been better, you know?

my favorite things

as much as i love alaska, i am itching to get back to the city. things i'm looking forward to:
autumn in new york - or as i like to call it, heaven; the smell of antique stores and bookshelves with old used books piled high; the groggy feeling of early (& not so early) mornings mixed with the feeling of warm coffee in my hand; inspiring subway rides that take me from one part of manhattan to another undiscovered part of my conscious being; picnics in the park; the park in general & and the way the sunlight feels different when i'm sitting on a bench doing nothing in particular; wine and the comfortable feeling that comes with it; the energy of "youth" that somehow finds its way to the surface when i'm functioning on no sleep; hole in the wall restaurants, bars, and jazz clubs i can call my own; the time of night when the city is slowing down and simultaneously waking up; the reality of carpe diem; losing myself in the met & little bookstores; the smell of hot dogs and roasted nuts that permeates the smog just right; the right people to spend the night laughing and drinking and dancing with; when the lights turn green one after the other and the cab i'm in just speeds right on; the satisfaction of staying in, ordering in dinner and having a movie/hbo series marathon; live jazz in the park; having the knowledge that romanticism is still alive and well.

just to name a few.