I ran today. Not a crazily impressive distance or speed, but it was good for me. I was proud. And sweaty.

I climbed today. Again, not crazily impressive difficulty or anything, but I did better than last time and that was important to me.

Now I am tired, but feeling good about what I accomplished. Yay, physical activity!

I’ve always been very good about keeping my brain from turning to mush: getting new (purely intellectual) hobbies, learning new things, reading books, watching films, etc. But I haven’t been at all concerned with keeping the other physical aspects of me from turning to mush until fairly recently. It’s exciting and new… like The Love Boat theme song (RIP, Aaron Spelling - you gave us that, too).

In the “no pudding-brain” category, though, I have excitement brewing as well. My friend Sara gave me a guitar and I’m going to pick up where I left off in September and learn to play more than the two chords I still sort of remember. I have some books, I have a few friends who play (and will help me tune the guitar) and a spiffy new chord chart I printed off last night at the suggestion of my friend LJ, who proceeded to share chord progressions. I will figure them out and be able to appreciate them eventually, but I had to give a little “whoa” and mention that my brain doesn’t think in music - or at least not yet.

My history with music is spotty. I took piano lessons with my brother when I was younger, and the teacher was kind of a bastard who criticized my short fingers and inability to play scales properly. So that sucked. Then I played the flute in late elementary and middle school. The music teacher there was also an ass who told me that I shouldn’t be playing the flute since my fingers were too short to reach the keys at the end. So I joined the choir and that was fine - was in the madrigal group, sang a duet once or twice, was in the school musical, but nothing extraordinary. It kept me musically active, but without the crap.

However, those two summabitches gave me the biggest insecurity issue about my short fingers. My fingers are short (like the rest of me) but not unnaturally so; I certainly don’t have strange puppet fingers or anything. Standard size guitars have proved a bit rough for me to play between short fingers and bum wrist, so I’m really encouraged by the fact that the guitar I got from Sara is a bit smaller than a standard guitar (just not a baby version).

It’s getting late and I have been needing copious amounts of sleep lately. I don’t know what’s up. Maybe it’s the change in the weather - the warm 80+ degree days are not something I’m used to. Neither is the sun. And it was different in California… it was that much-lauded “dry heat.”

Here, in the mid-Atlantic, we have wet heat. And it’s certainly not as sexy as it sounds in other contexts.

From Serge Gainsbourg (father of actress Charlotte Gainsbourg, yes) - Ce Mortel Ennui

Babelfish translates this as “this mortal trouble”. Has “ennui” developed extra layers of meaning in English or is Babelfish offering the most simplistic (not even simplest) translation?

As you’ll see evidenced below, I’m apparently in the mood to photograph trees. There were lots of other things I could’ve “shot” today (during a day trip to Princeton, NJ with my friends Theresa and Sara) but I liked these trees. And, honestly, we were having a splendid time and it didn’t occur to me to get the camera out and interrupt the flow. And Mihály Csíkszentmihályi will tell you how important flow is.

But really, the sky this morning was amazing and it set off the greenish-yellow of this tree to stunning effect, I think. The image hasn’t been altered in any way, other than sized down to fit this column.

Then there was this tree in a courtyard across from Princeton University itself. I liked the thickness and rope-yness of the center.

We stopped at Princeton Record Exchange and I bought a bunch of used CDs and a couple of new ones, so now I’m feeding iTunes and syncing my iPod with glorious new music. Yummy.

I also got some chocolate-covered toffee pistachios at the Thomas Sweet chocolate shop. Honestly, eating two of those packs a wallop of chocolatey sweetness, so they are going to last me a while.

For a variety of reasons, I don’t have the energy or time to write a full summary (perhaps this weekend) here is one story from Coachella I shall share since I told it to two friends over lunch today and feel like telling it again. Telling stories is a useful distraction and my grandfather was a man who loved to tell stories - of (his perceived) glories of Communist-era Poland, sneaking kielbasa across country lines, going fishing with a bottle of vodka, bread and some lard for sustenance… and man, could he make some good pickle soup. Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.

Coachella story:

My friends and I arrived at the festival grounds (Empire Polo Club/Field in Indio, California) late on Thursday night. Friday morning, I was up at 7:30 to hit the shower mobile and feel clean again. Shortly after returning to my tent (around 8:30 in the morning) I heard some loud talking in the not-so-distant-distance. The voice was that of a young woman - perhaps 19 or 20 years old. It was a sitcom voice; what you would think of as a “Valley Girl” voice from an 80’s movie. A voice not dissimilar from the “Oh. My. God, Becky. Look at her butt…” chick in the beginning of Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” video, except a lot higher in pitch. The voice yelled:

HAPPY COACHELLA, EVERYONE!
THIS IS MY FIRST MUSIC FESTIVAL EH-VAR!
THIS IS MY FIRST COACHELLA!
I’M A COACHELLA VIRGIN!!!

Followed by about a minute of silence. Then we would all hear, yet again:

HAPPY COACHELLA, EVERYONE!
THIS IS MY FIRST MUSIC FESTIVAL EH-VAR!
THIS IS MY FIRST COACHELLA!
I’M A COACHELLA VIRGIN!!!

She was working the campground, walking up and down the rows, making sure that EVERYONE knew it was her first Coachella. I can only assume she was trying to make friends/attract attention. This was also my first Coachella and my first proper music festival, but something (common sense? pride? old age? East coast cynicism??) prevented me from engaging in this behavior.

(A shot of the campground and mountains nearby.)

After about 30 minutes, she was far enough away to stop assaulting my ears. But the next morning, around the same time, she was back. This time, a Brit (from Manchester, actually) staying in one of the tents near me replied, “Cheers, mate - you said the same thing yesterday.” (Yes, from Manchester, and yes, he did say “mate.”) The girl was all flustered and embarrassed and Mancunian Man just said, “No worries - have a great festival.”

When back on the festival grounds, I noticed a LOT of people greeting each other (these deep new-found Coachella friendships) by saying, “Happy Coachella!” I guess it was “a thing.” It didn’t catch on with me. It’s that East coast attitude, I suppose. I think we were making sure to represent Cynicism at this event and balance out the effects of all the hippies in attendance.

Case in point: we totally and completely avoided Jack Johnson.

Anytime someone mentioned that they’d come to Coachella to see him, it was understood in our group that any additional words falling from this person’s lips would be heavily discounted and their taste in other things was highly suspect and questionable.

I am on a bit of a downhill slide right now, post-vacation (which was great). Here are some photos until I’m ready to write:

And the sun shines quite brightly in Southern California. Eva’s got herself some pink shoulders. And a tube of suncreen.

Yes - here at Coachella. Day 2 is just beginning. Quick update:

Yesterday, I saw the following: DJ Mehdi, Porter, Midnight Juggernauts, Rogue Wave (meh), Luckyiam, Les Savy Fav, Battles (yay), Dan Deacon (awesome audience interaction during his set), Jens Lekman (yay!), Cut Copy (yay), Sandra Collins (i kinda danced a little), Vampire Weekend (lackluster live), The Breeders, Goldfrapp, Aphex Twin (woo-hoo!), a bit of the Raconteurs (good live, meh on album - oh, Jack White), Serj Tankian and Professor Murder (yay!!). I heard Fatboy Slim from afar since he was in the large tent they’re using for electronic artists just a tent away from Professor Murder (who were pure energy live).

Tonight’s big draws are Prince and Portishead. The sound check for Portishead was my “getting dressed” music this morning across the tent-covered field. The view of the mountains here is unbelievable - just striking and amazing to wake up to. I’ll have my camera today so I’ll be able to take pictures and post them when I return.

Yay for adventure!

Objective: Prepare for a trip which will involve “camping” (at a music festival), rock-climbing and walking around a lot in a much warmer climate than I’m used to (the average temperature in late April in the Indio Valley is a high of ~90°F, low of about ~60°F).

Item 1: Comfortable walking shoes.
Method: Shopping.

My 6 year-old Sauconies just aren’t cutting it in the all-day comfort department anymore, but they are seriously the most comfortable just-kicking-around shoes I’ve ever owned. After much research into available color combinations in my size, the pictured sneakers were ordered and will be arriving on Tuesday. That color combination is called Bayou/Black.

Item 2: Single-person tent and lightweight sleeping bag.
Method: Excavation?

I am assured that someone in my family owns both of these already - but that they’re either in the basement or the attic. I have a week and a half to put on my miner’s helmet and gas mask and see what I can find… and if they cannot be found or are found to be in an unacceptable condition, I think I can borrow a tent from a friend at work, and might just have to pony up the ~$40 for a sleeping bag. Perhaps the Columbia Double Whammy Fleece Sleeping Bag and Pillow.

Item 3: TSA-approved luggage lock
Method: Damn, a trip to Target.

My big “trans-Atlantic” suitcase is equipped with a TSA-approved lock. But the suitcase I’m taking to California is not quite as fancy or huge or heavy, so I’ll have to buy a lock. I don’t want to find the contents of my suitcase strewn about the luggage carriage because they decided to randomly inspect MY suitcase and then just zipped it up halfway (it’s happened to more than a few people I know). Chances are that if there’s a lock, it will be second nature (while running through their robot-like procedures) to replace it after closing the suitcase.

There’s more (shorts! a hat!) but I’ll deal with those later.

Today is my brother’s 29th birthday. I’ve already welcomed him to Old. There will be family dinner tonight. There may be blood (or just verbal aggression). I should do some mental preparation - maybe even go running so I’m feeling relaxed before we embark upon the excitement of the evening.

• Violet is a repository of beautiful things. They sent me a “Penmanship” themed newsletter last week… and I am in absolute lust with these two items:

On the left, Cards for a Year… “40 cards and 42 envelopes. Each card is imprinted with an icon; text inside the card states the occasion.” Simple… perfect. I love the look and feel of these types of cards - just heavy white cardstock with a single iconic image. It plays right into my esthetic.

On the right, Punctuation Cards. Each card has punctuation marks letter-pressed onto it in bright colors. Striking!

• Then, there’s the new Portishead CD, “Third.” It’s been my soundtrack for the car/train/walk/computer since Saturday afternoon. It releases on April 28th, but some songs have been circulating on music blogs - and here are two that are in my top 4 from the album (so far):

  Portishead - Machine Gun
  

  Portishead -We Carry On
  

• Portishead will be performing at Coachella. So will a plethora of other musical acts I enjoy. Luckily, I will be attending Coachella, so I will get to benefit from all of these musical acts I enjoy performing in once place over a span of three days. Here’s another band I am looking forward to seeing - Cut Copy. They’ve a very retro 80’s feel to them which I enjoy… it’s not world-changing, but it’s fun. Especially around the 1:14 mark. I might be posting sample songs from several of other bands over the next few days:

  Cut Copy - Future
  

• I finally acted on the LibraryThing early reviewer email that I get every month and decided to throw my name in the hat for a few review copies of forthcoming books. I got an email today notifying me that I will be receiving one of them: Love Marriage by V.V. Ganeshananthan. It sounds right up my alley.

“‘In this globe-scattered Sri Lankan family, we speak of only two kinds of marriage. The first is the Arranged Marriage. The second is the Love Marriage. In reality, there is a whole spectrum in between, but most of us spend years running away from the first toward the second.’
The daughter of Sri Lankan immigrants who left their collapsing country and married in America, Yalini finds herself caught between the traditions of her ancestors and the lure of her own modern world. But when she is summoned to Toronto to help care for her dying uncle, Kumaran, a former member of the militant Tamil Tigers, Yalini is forced to see that violence is not a relic of the Sri Lankan past, but very much a part of her Western present. … (show rest)

While Kumaran’s loved ones gather around him to say goodbye, Yalini traces her family’s roots—and the conflicts facing them as ethnic Tamils—through a series of marriages. Now, as Kumaran’s death and his daughter’s politically motivated nuptials edge closer, Yalini must decide where she stands.

Lyrical and innovative, V. V. Ganeshananthan’s novel brilliantly unfolds how generations of struggle both form and fractures families.”

• Here’s a super creative move: this spiffy perfume tester technique from Givenchy. Elegant, eye-catching, and a bit unusual: ribbon. Three styles of ribbon, actually, each pre-printed with the name of the three fragrances in this new line (which they’re treating like a wine - complete with a vintage). Long enough that you can tie it around your wrist/hair/purse strap.

The fragrances themselves are a bit too strong, too floral and too “my summer mink is at the cleaners” for me (and I realize that that might mean something different to different people… I guess it’s my shorthand for something that’s cloyingly sweet and reminds me of extremely wealthy older women).

And yes, I did actually hear a woman utter that sentence once upon a time. It was surreal.

Coolness experienced today, in order:

1. the sense of accomplishment achieved through finding free and legal parking on the streets of Manhattan (after circling blocks for 45 minutes)
2. getting a tasty lunch at a cafe in Chelsea (savory crepe! ham & cheese croissant! hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate syrup!)
3. climbing the big climbing wall at the Chelsea Piers for several hours and getting all the way up a challenging 5.9 level climb (challenging for me, anyway - only the second 5.9 I’ve ever completed)
4. walking around Manhattan for a few hours and stopping in Mxyplyzyk, Other Music, The Strand (where I bought bargain-priced books by Paul Auster and Angela Carter that I didn’t own yet) and the Virgin Megastore
5. warm drinks at one of the omnipresent Starbucks because it was getting quite cold and windy around 8pm
6. spazzing out like stupid New Jerseyans at a club down the shore (except it was during the car ride home from NYC) while listening to a Benny Benassi CD:

   Benny Benassi - Satisfaction
   
   
   (You may recognize this from a Burger King TV commercial from last year - the actual video is totally NSFW, but so over the top and sexually charged that I can’t help but laugh. In a phrase: chicks in bikinis with power tools - or just listen to the song.

7. getting home and purchasing tickets for Coachella… because I’ll be heading out to California just in time for that three-day festival of musical loveliness
8. eating some leftover tamarind lentils, putting on a fun eye candy crap movie (X-Men) and maybe getting to sleep early

I blame the suckfest (that was today) on the time change.

Or perhaps my petulant four year-old inner child is to blame. I haven’t decided.

Waking up this morning sucked, getting into the car and having the gas light go to empty sucked, getting to the gas station and finding out that pump I pulled up to was broken sucked, being called “sweetie” by the gas station attendant also sucked, going to Dunkin’ Donuts to get a hot chocolate and whole wheat bagel with cream cheese was good - until I pulled up to the window to pay and learned that they were out of hot chocolate (I got chai instead) and out of vegetable cream cheese. I asked for scallion - to which they said yes… and then no. So I got no bagel with no cream cheese and just went to the train station to wait out the remaining time.

Once on the train, I was just overwhelmed by (non-bagel related) sadness of a nondescript and nonspecific nature and was sitting there like a fool, crying. Not bawling… but the tears were flowing in freakish silence and being dabbed away by a Dunkin’ Donuts napkin. Not the softest stuff, so I was quite rosy-rimmed in the eye region. I got to work, turned on my computer, and it froze up. I restarted it and then it refused to accept my password. I think one of the keys was stuck, so I just did some random hitting of shift and caps lock (case sensitive passwords) to jostle it loose and managed to login. Trying to print an agenda resulted in a printer error - not a jam, but an unspecified driver or software error that prompted a pop-up box stating, “printer error” with the only option being to cancel. I hit “cancel” and restarted my computer again. Meeting, meeting, lunch. Nothing looked appetizing, and I couldn’t even find something to provide pure sustenance sans enjoyment… so I went for the cheap option. A slice of pizza. Meeting, spreadsheet, cancelled meeting… and time to go home. On the train ride home, I was wedged between two over-cologned middle-aged men, which just made that 50 minute voyage endlessly pleasant.

For dinner, I explored the as-yet-unexplored (in my world) potential of Brussels sprouts. I have a vague recollection of wanting my mother to buy them for me when I was 9 and wanting to use them as huge heads of lettuce for my Barbie dolls. Instead, they were cooked and I distinctly remember a noxious sulfurous stench which has turned me off of them ever since. Well, according to the package, the sulfur stench can be avoided through proper preparation methods.

To that end, I cooked them for about 10 minutes in a little milk (low-fat), butter (not low-fat - but compensating for the fact I did not have heavy cream for this recipe suggestion), garlic and basil. Then I removed them from the heat and squeezed a little lemon juice on them, sprinkled chopped pecans on top, and added a little salt and pepper. Toss to combine and hey - they aren’t half bad and they smell pretty good, if a little garlicky (I’m not a huge fan of garlic, but it serves a purpose.)

You know what also serves a purpose? “Jump Around” by House of Pain. The purpose it serves: inviting me to make a fool of myself by rapping along to it. Yessir. Of all the things I could possibly remember from my high school days (useful things like calculus, history, chemistry, and perhaps even driver’s ed), this is what’s stuck with me.

House of Pain - Jump Around

And “One Pure Thought” by Hot Chip. The purpose it serves: making me want to dance (and my friend Sara can attest to this… I think we’ve done the whole “dancing in the car” thing to this song a handful of times now). Nothing else does that right now. It’s magical and mood-lifting.

Hot Chip - One Pure Thought

Until tomorrow, then. Arbitrary reassignment of time. Ugh.