Inside My Head | ![]() |
Bad Influences | ![]() |
Calendar | ![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
::la fin du monde::
|
![]() |
August 2004
|
|
|||||
No. Pity. No Shame. No Silence. I rarely do sheepage on eljay, but some things are passed around for a reason. I believe the premise in this case is a valid one: No Pity. No Shame. No Silence. How many sexual violence victims/survivors are there really? This is a matter of opeing up to inform those who may not realise how prevent sexual assault and abuse is. (This is in no scientific method and certainly does not account for being open with friends in real life but more of an awareness thing.) I don't need anyone's pity - while I wouldn't wish my experience on anyone else, I believe it has made me a stronger person. I'm not ashamed and can openly talk about how sexual abuse has affected my life, my relationships, and my personality. I understand the effects and yet take responsibility to act on to change those consequences which I do not like. Besides, there should not be any shame on the part of the victim: I didn't do anything wrong, my abusers did. Therefore it is their shame and they can keep it. I am no longer silent about it. My family and friends know. I have shared conversations with friends wherein we have both been able to open up. While some people see this as using a victim worldview, I see it as being supportive and realsitic about how truly horrible humans can be sometimes. [1] I also happen to be an excellent cook, an avid reader, rather good at framing things, a woman, musically skilled, a vegeterian, and a Cure fan. |
|
|||||
I dreamt I saw Mogwai playing while Buddhists monks danced on a tiny open air stage. I blame the Curiosa tour and ![]() |
|
|||||
Curiosa, Part Iv: The Cure Before I begin discussing The Cure, I have to say how insanely jealous I am that some of the Sluts are doing a goth picnic at the York House Gardens, a 'secret' 17th century statued garden where the Cure filmed the video to The Hanging Garden. Grah!!! Must invent transporters ASAP. IO am sure the weather will be much more pleasent than Floridas' unrelenting heat and blinding sunshine. To complete this final edition of the Curiosa tour, I have to say although I wish I could have enjoyed the show more as it was happening, I am still incredibly glad I went. I did have a few fan girl moments (something along the lines of saying "Robert is here in Tampa right now!" early in the afternoon and later saying "We're breathing the same air!"). And yes, I swooned over his big mug flashing up on the large view screen and fluttered when he pantomimed the video to Lullabye by flicking his toungue and holding himself while singing about a spider eating him alive. Here is the set list that everyone else seems to have written down that night. * - indicates songs from the newest album, The Cure - The Cure * Lost * Labriynth Fascination Street * Before Three * End of the World Love Song Inbetween Days * Taking Off Jupiter Crash Pictures of you Lullabye Edge of the Deep Green Sea Strange Days 100 years * Never * The Promise Encore * M (released in certain countries, but not in the US) Play for Today A Forest Obviously, I was thrilled to hear the Edge of the Deep Green Sea (which is fabulous live), 100 Years (because I adore The Cure's earlier material), Taking Off (a new one, totally pop, really good stuff), and A Forest (which may be my favourite club tune ever). I had a few notes written down. One is about Robert playing a black twelve string acoustic guitar which I never noticed in any of their videos where he plays an acoustic. The other was that one of the songs has this one-note ostinato keyboard part which makes me feel bad for Roger. The levels were a bit loud for the keyboard, so all I could focus on was him plunking down on that one key over and over again. Robert kept leaving off the first couple of words from phrases off the new songs. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was that their producer Rob worked them to death for the record and Bob wasn't able to put out live, I don't know. I'm still wading through some review and interviews about their recording process and don't know what to think of the producer/fanboy/nu-metal guru. Must remember to find a copy of the latest UnCut magazine which has a really nice cover and good interview. I nearly gave myself eyestrain trying to read this scanned version found online. But it looks like a thorough article and covers the many incarnations of the band. |
|
|||||
Curiosa, Part III: The Rapture, Interpol As the evening progressed I saw the main stage bands, such as The Rapture and Interpol. The Rapture, from NYC, reminded me of a second coming of the Happy Mondays with their energetic dancing percussionist (who doubled as a saxophonist) and interesting take on dancy music (although they are definitely more rock than club when it comes to dance music). The lead singer obviously listened to too many Jane's Addiction records and the high treble on the sound did not help his screechy voice. But they had good energy despite playing during the day without the cloak of darkness, interesting lighting effects and smoke machines to help with ambiance. Plus the crowd really did suck until later in the evening when Interpol came on. Speaking of, Interpol were fab. I have some of the same complaints as with The Cure because I was too far away (if I'm not in the pit, what's the point?) and was seated rather than standing. I will suffer the sore feet and back for the freedom to move and enjoy the music viscerally. Having only heard and never seen the band before, I was kind of shocked. I did not imagine the lead singer to be so young and so blonde. I also didn't expect to see the hotness that was the bassist with hgood looks. Later in the evening I managed to spot a friend of a friend from my grade school days. It was a bit funnny to me seeing as he played guitar in their band. I recall them playing at someones house party during highschool. They did a cover of "Just Like Heaven", only I did not know it was a Cure cover and foolishly complemented them on it. This guy took the credit for writing the song and I thought he was pretty cool. Years later, after hearing the original, I realised what a dork I was to fall for his musical deception. And years later still, I see him at a Cure concert. Fitting, really. Also ran into another friend, which was an unexpected surprise. Had a few oohs and ahhs over my VIP ticket and thusly had to relate the story that is called "The VIP |
|
|||||
Curiosa, Part II: Indie kids, Mogwai, and some not-so-special treatment Scoring Free VIP Tickets While on the road, I called to check in with Hope about our plans to meet up and grab some food before the show. She then dropped the biggest surprise: a friend of ours wanted to give us free VIP tickets to see The Cure. I accepted immediately with a yelp of excitement. The next hour or so was spent bouncing in my car seat and estatically singing along with Robert Smith. Every so often I would realize how incredulous the situation was: just a few weeks ago, before purchasing tickets on eBay, I decided I wanted to see The Cure so much that I would go down there and buy tickets from a scalper; even if I did not happen to find a pair of tickets at a really excellent price online, I would have been granted a free ticket. The plan was to pick up the tickets, get dressed, and grab some food at a Thai place down the street from the new Ford Ampitheater in Tampa. As I have already revealed I ate very little at dinner because I was so excited and, yes, nervous. It was a few minutes before the starting time when we left the restaurant. I was more than happy to take my friend up on his ticket offer, but I was disappointed to hear that none of our friends would be joining us. We had five unused VIP tickets in addition to the two I purchased that were also unused. I felt it was a crying shame. . . but then I got over it, snagged the tix from my friend and vowed to make a scrapbook with them. I imagine floaty words writhing between the tickets, "Tickets, please!" I only heard that phrase a hundred times that night. Rather than being as clear as Virginia Woolf after a night of drinking, let me explain. After parking in the VIP separate section (which was a good way to avoid the crowds), we handed over our tickets to be scanned by the door guards at the back entrance. Cool. We're in. We scoped out the VIP section offering a free buffet and cash bar, and wandered through to see this new amphitheater. After confirming with an employee that I could renter if I had my ticket, I went outside the front gate to see about scalping my tickets. it wasn't looking too good out there, so I headed back in, only to be asked for my ticket. It was dutifully scanned and then denied because it had already been scanned when I came in. Sure. Fine. Here's how the conversation went from my end: To the Front Door Lady: Please let us in, some guy said I could come back in if I ahd my ticket. What guy? I don't know. . . I asked him a question, I didn't ask for his name. Ok, so I should go around back to the VIP section and talk to them? Fine. To the VIP guy: Hey you guys let me in earlier, remember? Someone told me I could go out and come back and now the people are the front gate won't let me in. Wait, who's in charge up there? Yes, I spoke with so-and-so already, she wouldn't budge. But we have to go back to the front and clear it up with the woman who just sent me to you guys? Umm, ok. Front Door Lady, once aagin: Hey, yeah they wouldn't let us in through the back. Yeah, I guess we can wait a minute [while you talk on your headset and glare at us]. Ok, but no one told us as we exited that there was no rentry AND the person I did ask said it was ok. Ok, so let us in. And finally, in my head: That's right, beeytach. Whew! And onto the show we go. But wait! Do you have your ticket handy? Becuse you need to show it every time you come into the seating area, go out to the concessions area, stop by the covered buffet area, come back to the seating area, enter the aisle where your seats are, go to the bathroom, take a breath, think about The Cure, sing an Interpol lyric. . . I digress. but certainly, YOU HAVE TO HAVE YOUR TICKET OUT AT ALL TIMES. I wanted to lick it and put the damn thing on my forehead as proof. The extra VIP armband wasn't enough because most of the employees did not know what they were. So alas I kept taking out my nice mint ticket from its nice envelope and putting it in the grubby hands of everyone in a "Ford Amphitheater" polo shirt. But that's enough whinging for now. Indie Kids Galore You couldn't throw a stone in that place without hitting an some flavour of indie kid. It was like my town, known for it's thriving indie culture, had thrown up all over the teens of Tampa. I think the indies kids of today are like the 50's mods in a way. But enough about rolled up jeans, studded belts, T-shirts from Goodwill, and piercings. . . onto the show. Mogwai I was so wrapped up in taking in the amphitheater I paid no regard to Mogwai who were playing their Scottish hearts out on stage. While I was too busy taking everything else in, I did notice that they sounded really good over the sound system. The reviewer who said the amphitheater wasn't the right venue for the loud and overbearing experience of Mogwai had it dead wrong. I have seen the band before in a place that held 200 people and was so close I could |
|
|||||
Curiosa, Part I ![]() I may be sick, but not only have I moved into the house, signed paperwork and done finger prints for law enforcement volunteering, and scheduled two interviews for this week, but I also managed to drive many hours to see the Curiosa tour in Tampa. To say that it was worth it would be an understatement. Even those nagging thoughts and anxieties associated with moving, such as everything being new, have taken second fiddle to the memory of the concert. Isn't it funny how you can be in the moment but at the same time be removed from it so as to analyze what is happening? For some inexplicable reason, The Cure concert was fell into the latter category. Sure I was excited and nervous while picking at my Thai sweet and sour tofu dinner before the show, but even after the show began I felt this sense of being more involved in thinking about the show than the experience itself. I told myself to enjoy it more but could only manage to narrate tiny nuances to myself so I could enjoy it in the future. After seeing The Cure at the HFStival up in D.C. last May for the very first time, part of me wonders if I have lost something that I can never have again: the pure feeling of bliss and rapture of The First Time. (While this case pertains to seeing some band I happen to love, it applies to many things.) Maybe I was jaded after having such a good first experience which included being so close to the stage, feeling like I was wrapped up in the music (and simultaneously ignoring that I was really just enveloped in the sea of fans), and hearing new unreleased music for the first time. What happens next is a series of events that I like to call The VIP Treatment. To Be Continued. . . |
|
|||||
Time of Fruition Things are slowly working into something that can only be due to work, perseverance and a deep-seated belief that things will work out. To give this thought more tooth, I was sitting thinking about my plans for today (very short-sighted of me, but necessary if I want to be more flexible in my future plans). It dawned on me that I am currently doing what I love. Really. I don't know how it happened, but it all has culminated and I am stunned beyond belief. Here is what I mean: ( Work & Life ) This is only a portion of my life, but it is going so well right now. Hopefully in a week or two I will have updates on my volunteering with law enforcement. Speaking of LE, here is some research that has some not so surprising results. Police officers' credibility judgments: Accuracy and estimated ability I know I'm getting into a good old boys club, sort of paramilitary in its socialisation, but I plan to find my niche. I wish I could read more about this studys' methods. I understand why they chose undergraduate students since most undergraduate Psychology students are required to participate in a number of studies (usually of their own choice). This sample is not representative of the entire population, bien sur. But then again, is it ever? Current Music: The Cure - The Cure |
|
|||||
Les fées de musique I just discovered a song on my computer that I have never heard, have no recollection of ever having, and have no idea where it came from: "Ghost Story" by Sting. Thankfully this discovery was made because, as I was idly listening while dong 'net things, the song was so amazing it pulled at my ears. It's straight forward melody and honest lyrics hurt. Dammit! It's happening again with "Perfect Love...Gone Wrong" which has a breakdown section featuring French rap. I must have secret music fairies. Current Music: Sting - Desert Rose |
|
|||||
Continuing on the theme of making my own happiness, I am currently biding my time until my appointment this afternoon with the housemate. A hot cup of coffee and Unto Ashes "Empty Into White" are my companions. Later I will attack the house and begin the Final Judgement™ of my possessions. Until then, I am content with this moment. EDIT: Upon closer inspection, the graphic on the Refuge House website does NOT say Non-Stop Violence. Apoptygma Bezerk has ruined me! Current Music: Unto Ashes - Witches' Rune |
|
|||||
Cat Alarm Clock, A Review Cat woke me up at AssEarly AM by mewing in my ear loudly. When she realised this was ineffective, she proceeded to pace from the bed to the dresser taking a route that ensure she would step on my long hair, thus ennervating me further. I knew food would shut her up for a while, so I drug myself out of bed. One glance at the glaring red numbers on the clock and I knew it was time to get up for work anyway. Managed to slice open my thumb cutting onions for a breakfast I am not even hungry for. Mental note- don't cut while in state of half-lidded wakefulness. This is dangerous for me because I have been known to run into things during this sleepy state. Add a knife and bad things ae bound to happen. No knives pre-coffee! After the kitchen escapade, I discovered the actual time. This makes sense to anyone who knows me as all my clocks are set at different intervals ahead of schedule. It seems that during MJ's pacing onto the nightstand, that damn sneaky cat sped up my clock by an hour. It's before 8am for chirssakes. But I'm ok with that. Right? I have good coffee and internet things and will spend a leisurely morning at home before going into work. Besides, I have a three day weekend to look forward to. Anyone want to guess what this administration has up its sleeve for July 4th? Both good and nefarious answers acceptable. |
Inside My Head | ![]() |
Bad Influences | ![]() |
Calendar | ![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |