This time last year, we were finishing putting up our massive election wall map, readying the crayons and the alcohol, and settling in to watch the US Presidential Election count. At some point around 2am, amid much mocking of CNN and precarious balancing, we coloured in Lake Michigan Democrat. Shortly thereafter it was all over and we were rousting Elaine's siblings out of bed to make them get up and watch Obama's acceptance speech. I can't believe its a year.
This year, I'm in a new house, full of falafel and tea, watching David Attenbrough's Life.
The boy keeps insisting he's making things up. I keep having to shut my eyes when they show spiders and be dissuaded from wanting a gecko. Again.
There is a Komodo Dragon hunting water buffalo on my TV.
I'm not sure which fourth of November is more unlikely, really.
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Sunday, 08 November 2009
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Hope you die in a decent pair of shoes
I made brownies for Sarah's party. And then made brownie-inna-mug tonight because I foolishly didn't keep any. And I put Bailey's in it. I may die of sugar.
We went dancing. I hadn't realised we were going dancing, I'd have worn less wobbly shoes. My red shoes are awesome shoes, but they are high heels. Narrow high heels. I...do not exactly have cat-like balance. There was much wobbling on the way home (Boy: 'Is there a reason girls wear high heels?' Me: 'Sometimes it's nice to be on eye-level with people!' Boy: *dubious face*) . Luckily the boy's natural inclination of stagger is opposite to mine, so we actually looked purposeful and directional-like. I do love my red shoes, but oh dear. I took up residence in my battered old Doc's with gratitude this morning. They weren't very pretty to start with, and they've gotten very squashy over the years but the difference. Comfy.
Ah, inappropriate shoes, how I love you.
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Watched Flashpoint on the way home.
It was rather fabulous, but oh wow, hello, Greg Parker's death wish. And Jules. Oh Jules. She just keeps getting more awesome and wonderful and oh, so scared and so angry and all the love in the world. She's like the best combination of Ed's sanity thing and Greg's people thing.
They're good on this show. Really good. Assuming you like getting your heart shredded, which apparently I do.
Wednesday, 04 November 2009
Friday, 23 October 2009
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This song is dedicated to the Glamarama sign
We went to Josh Ritter and Love Canon ("This is Love Canon. We've actually only played two gigs and those were Ritter family functions, but never mind") in the Empire on Sunday night. I've talked about the sheer awesome that is Josh Ritter in the Empire before. There is no way not to love his shows. If you want proof, I dragged Amy and Liz in more or less cold and they came home in love. Ruth and I kept phoning Em so she could hear the new songs (which oh wow, pretty) amid her studying. We were right at the front. The band probably thought we were nuts. Although they really are not in a position to judge anyone else's sanity, considering that the main qualification for playing with Josh Ritter, after being amazing at at least two instruments, is being demented and having no shame whatsoever. Which is fantastic. Like the gig.
The whole thing could easily have descended into farce, actually, since the first thing that happened after Richard Julian finished his set was that an unfortunate roadie knocked the upright bass over on its face (apparently he did not meet an untimely end, which means Zack Hickman is a much better person than me). The entire Empire did a collective cringe and four horrified heads popped round from backstage like jack-in-the-boxes.It survived. There was a wobbly bit at the start with 'Come and Find Me' when Zack was still fixing the pickup and didn't come in where Josh was expecting him, and Josh forgot the words. And got the giggles. He did that a lot. I bet he's useless at poker.
The whole show had that giddy, glorious catastrophe curve quality that comes from four very capable people who really love what they do playing somewhere they enjoy and ignoring the fact that its all falling apart because really, who cares if the pickup on the bass is making the floor shake, or Josh accidentally swaps out two verses, or breaks multiple strings mid-song and then fails at swapping out guitars (and of course the thing to do while you're flailing around looking for the pickup lead is to mime wild despair and jump up and down) and Jesse gets left trying to do a two-part melody by himself, or Zack knocks the Comedy Club backdrop down on himself, as long as everyone's having fun. And well. They so were. Up to and including a blonde wig, 'Jenny 867‒5309' and an amount of bouncing that would scare a kangaroo.
They did a lovely mix of stuff. Everything sounds different with the string band and no drums. 'Girl in War' works gorgeously with just the bass and acoustic, and everything is better with mandolins. Getting into duelling banjos with the expert was proably not the smartest move, mind you. There's one, I'm not sure if its new or not, I think I've seen him do it before, called 'Southern Pacific' that he did acoustic and its beautiful. A travelling song. And the ones that definitely are new, 'The Curse' and 'Annabelle Lee' are making me desperate for the new album. I don't know what he's been reading, but its turning out some beautiful, eerie songs.
The Empire's taken the Glamarama sign down. I've never seen anyone so woeful about a neon sign. He even dedicated 'Lillian Eygpt' to it. He really loves that sign. He made up for the lack of it by turning up his collar and pretending to be an Edwardian silent movie star all the way through. Zack Hickman, of course, does not need to stoop to such lengths, because he looks like that all the time. The rest of the band says the Empire was made for him to play in. It may be the other way around. Anyway, Zack is cooler than you. All of you. Ever.
Saturday, 17 October 2009
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Huge quantities of food and hope for the best.
There has been Indian food, shouting, insanity and aggressive photography.
We failed at going on a Titanic tour, but we did achieve a new cardigan and dress for me, costume for Liz, trauma for Kevin and much Diwali dodging (parades are great, but they make navigation hard).
And we went into Games Workshop and perturbed teenage boys by being girls.
And then we had tea in the Linen Hall Library, as you do.
And made a French revolutionary flag.
Later there shall be making of whiskey ice cream, perogies, demon sister and Josh Ritter.
There is a PLAN.
I might keep them forever.
Sunday, 11 October 2009
Marvinmarymac
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- Name: Mary
- Gender: Female
- Member Since: 5/30/2006
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About Me
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'Blue lights on the runway, I love the colour of them all'
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Emma: "Merlin's up, it's ok, I don't have to burn down the BBC." Emma and iPlayer, they have this love-hate relationship.
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Oh my, Eastwick is ridiculous. Like, wired to the moon kind of ridiculous.
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Dizzy is bad, right? Argh, I'm even sitting down.
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