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[02 Dec 2003|01:31am] |
Sigh...having spent five wonderful days in California, I'm back to New York. It makes the most sense to narrate in reverse:
My flight arrived too late for me to go to school (I was exhausted anyway). After a long nap I had to go in to school for a rehearsal, and I've been at home alternately being productive and procrastinating. I feel out of sorts; I'm not used to the way things normally are, and I miss Laura.
But, backing up a bit: I had such airplane trouble! My flight was sceduled to leave at 9:10 PM, but there was a "threat" made on the plane! (The employees told us very little about what was actually going on, so I can only guess as to what that means.) Everybody who had already boarded then had to get off! ("Deplaning," they call it in the biz'.) We all hung around the gate, people splayed across the floor sleeping, watching through the window as the accordion-like tunnel through which the planes are boarded was withdrawn. We were told to return to the gate at 10:45. I called Laura and we said good night. When I returned to the gate around 10:40, nothing had visibly improved; they were still checking the plane. About 35 minutes later they announced that the plane had been deemed "unsafe" for flying. We would have to wait for another plane to arrive in San Francisco. When the other plane had arrived, been cleaned out, and boarded (which, incidentally, was done starting with "rows 1-10, and 30 and above." Have you ever heard of a less efficient system?) it was very late. It was past 1 AM when we took off, a full four hours later than expected.
But the most unnerving thing about the flight was that it meant an end to my wonderful vacation. I had arrived on wednesday the 26th, around 10 AM. I had a problem at the airport: Laura's mom had agreed to pick me up, but I foolishly was waiting on the departure level instead of the arrival level! She eventually left for work and I took a cab to Laura's. It was nice, however, to find that Laura was there rather than at school, as sad as it was that she was ill. We went out that night to the Cheesecake Factory, a wonderful restaurant, where we dined in style, somewhat gluttonously.
The next day (Thanksgiving!!!) we ate dinner with her relatives. It was fun to meet the extended family, and her hilarious cousin Christina, whose rap anecdotes were uproariously entertaining. It was equally fun to hear about her cousin Ronnie's martial arts career. I also met Laura's father's brother-in-law, Dick, who owns a recording studio; he invited us to come over on Saturday.
Friday we left in the early afternoon and took the scenic route toward the baseball stadium to see the Cirque du Soleil. I've never seen such amazing uses of the human body; I'm so grateful to Laura for working that out. Every act was amazing, and the clowns were extremely funny and talented. The entire performance was so fantastic.
Saturday we hit the shops around Dick and Tina's, where we had a great listening session with them. Dick owns more records than I've ever seen in one place (he says he estimates his collection to number about 25,000, although he used to have many more). He played some old blues records, a Mendelssohn sextet, and a solo bass player named Gary Karr. It was stunning, and Dick and Tina were great.
When we left their house we went to Slim's, a hip bar/concert venue. The Red Elvises, a very cool Siberian rock band, was playing. It was an immensely entertaining show, and we had lots of fun. It was a wonderful way to spend our last evening together.
Our final day was rather sad, but still great. We went to Union Square and browsed some ritzy stores (I bought a new pair of shoes). We at lunch, traditionally, at the Thai restaurant where we go every visit, and then went home to get ready for the trip to the airport. Short visits, because they're so hasty, are often the most emotionally turbulent after returning home. I'm distraught and lonely, and miss Laura. I suppose I ought not complain, though; she'll be in New York for Christmas. Still, I feel out of sorts.
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[12 Nov 2003|10:05pm] |
Today I had an interview with the admissions head at the Manhattan School of Music. It was great, and really informative; it was very nice of her to let us have her time. There are lots of famous bassists on the faculty, and it sounds like a wonderful place.
After the meeting Madre and I went down to visit Michael (my uncle, for all intents and purposes). He showed me how to open oysters (a process entirely different from opening clams) and made salmon trout (which turned out, in fact, to be more like salmon than trout; we had debated this before eating it). I really love spending time with him. He also gave me a birthday gift: Peter Kropotkin's Memoirs of a Revolutionist (Michael's political leanings are often reflected in his gift choices) and a gift certificate to Labyrinth (a nearby bookstore). I was thrilled with these things and merely with seeing him. A wonderful evening.
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[11 Nov 2003|11:14pm] |
Hooray, the computer has returned, as of this weekend! It was broken for quite a while, but after a sojourn with the Sony people on the west coast, it's back to normal. It's good to have it back.
In further good news, I finally got a money clip to replace the one Laura had bought for me, which, tragically, I lost at CTY. It's shiny and new, and great, and stylish.
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[21 Oct 2003|10:41pm] |
Aaah, PSAT day. After the test in the morning the remainder of the day was pleasantly short and I went home as soon as I could. It was fun, I guess; as Laura said it provides little preparation for the real SAT, but I suppose this one was beneficial as practice all the same.
So...my recent lack in journal-updating zeal has not been completely due to my own laziness: my computer is broken. I need to use my mother's laptop if I want to do anything technological. Normally it wouldn't really bother me--I'm not too technologically minded anyway--but I've got a few teachers who simply MUST have their work (even the smallest assignments) done via computer. What happened to the good old days, where students practiced cursive and penmanship? Sigh...
But broken computers are the least of my journal material. This Sunday the Advent youth group met at the church to do community service. Apparently an email had gone out notifying everyone that we would be painting at a nearby public school. I, however, had no idea. I was up for the adventure, of course, but the severe drawback was that (having come prepared for church, not for painting) I was wearing a formal shirt, respectable-looking pants, and gorgeous shoes to which Laura's mother so generously treated me in San Francisco. I painted barefoot so as not to damage them, and one girl was nice enough to loan me a sweater that she had brought for the purpose of getting paint on it and had decided not to use. Still, my pants suffered, and they need serious Brillo pad treatment before they can be worn again. Oh well. Possessions are fleeting.
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[21 Oct 2003|03:18pm] |
Serva quae vituperat
cur mihi dicis
quasi animali? nam
tu asinus es!
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[05 Oct 2003|01:17pm] |
LAMENTA DEMAENETI LARI
sunt tibicinae,
coqui, furcifures! pro
di immortales!
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[02 Oct 2003|10:15pm] |
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Ach...what a week this has been.
Monday I worked at the church. My job entails making sure the church runs smoothly while people rent out the space to hold events, or whatever. On this occasion a couple was holding a memorial service for one Ron Wolfe. It was ridiculous to deal with these people, so out of it were they.
So, customarily we shut the front door to the church when someone's holding an event. This way tourists or panhandlers don't just come on in to walk around. This woman, however, wanted to keep the doors open ("the guests won't be able to find it," she said, even though the church has a side door). I was fine with that, but she asked me to sit at the door and welcome the guests, which would have taken hours with all the stragglers. As it was a school night, and this took up my entire evening, I really couldn't afford to do that; besides, I'm employed by the church to make sure the affair runs smoothly and to lock it up when it's done, not to do errands for the shareholders.
She wanted me to welcome the guests because she was worried about "weird people" who might come into the church. I was aware of the possibility and have had to deal with such situations before, hence the suggestion to shut the door...but when it was clear that she would not be persuaded, I told her that I would be in the office, and if any "weird people" should come in, she could refer them to me.
Well, the first hour or so went smoothly, until a homeless and somewhat unstable woman wandered in looking for clothes and money, with a formidably hostile disposition.
I explained to her as matter-of-factly as I could that the church was closed and had been rented by the people running the memorial service, and asked her to leave. This seemed to anger her, and she claimed that every time she comes to the church she's turned away by some excuse or another. It was difficult to gauge what would upset her, and diplomatic though I tried to be, she seemed to be made more outraged with me by my every action. Finally, with the help of Anthony the music director (who, downstairs giving a piano lesson, had been roused by the clamor), she was persuaded to leave. I thanked her, and she said, "You're not welcome."
Glad to be done with that, I talked to lady running the service; by now we were both in agreement that I should lock the front door.
But shorty thereafter, the woman was back! I asked myself, how did she get in? I thought she must have come in through the side door, but that would be extremely irregular...even the most desperate people go away when the front door's locked. To my amazement, a guest who was even more detached than the hosts of this event had taken it upon herself to undermine both me and the woman in charge by opening the door so that her brother, who was on his way, would be able to find the service. The homeless woman came in through the open door.
By the time I had managed, with great difficulty, to get rid of the homeless woman a second time, I didn't have the energy to tell the guest not to do open the door again--besides, it wouldn't have done any good. She tried to call her brother, but didn't know his cell number, and wanted to leave the side door open (not unlocked, mind, but ajar) so that he might find it. No amount of persuasion could convince her of why this would be a bad idea with a disgruntled, possibly dangerous woman who was already harboring a grudge against Advent wandering around. By the time her brother arrived I was sure I had a couple grey hairs.
The rest of the week was eventful too, but the mere memory of that evening is exhausting enough for one entry. It's bedtime.
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| It's teen angst time in Stevie's hall... |
[24 Sep 2003|11:50pm] |
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Oh, dear...poor Laura has had a rather emotional evening. First she pined because of all her homework (which is usually an ungodly amount, but tonight even more so), and then she fretted considerably about her image. Why don't they believe you when you tell them they're pretty?
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[21 Sep 2003|10:14pm] |
Mmm, Sunday. I had fish and eggs for breakfast, then did some reading and was productive, then talked to Laura (back from her trip...whooo!).
We had our first Latin session with Marian today, Laura and I we did (perhaps if I were more web-savvy I might link to both of their journals). It was fun! One mustn't let the Latin-muscles atrophy.
So...let's keep it brief tonight, shall we? I must finish this book.
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| in undis nautabam (hee hee hee) |
[20 Sep 2003|10:03pm] |
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Crépuscule with Nellie (Thelonious Monk) |
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Today I went to the beach. Laura sad it was "sad" to go all by my lonesome, but I thought it would be fun. Both predictions were accurate. I had a great time, but it is a little depressing to see Coney Island in September. When one visits in the summer, its depressing ramshackle quality is obscured by the energy of people enjoying themselves. On such a day, its seediness is what gives it character. Granted, a decent number of stragglers clinging to the rem-nants of summer populated the beach today, but it was a relatively empty scene stuck in a very bleak part of Brooklyn.
Don't get me wrong! It was TONS of fun, and I'm really glad I went. I found it to be about as relaxing and cleansing an experience as one can have in New York City (if we were talking about Santa Cruz, which is the spitting image of Coney Island, only much better, it might be a different story); true, there was trash where the waves were breaking on the shore, but after swimming out about 15 feet it was clear and gorgeous. As soon as I got to the beach I laid myself out on a towel to sunbathe and read (the main purpose of my trip was to get through Huckleberry Finn, which I need to have read by Monday). When I felt nice and warm I went for a very refreshing dip, then got out and dried while sunbathing and reading some more. I then wandered around to see if I could find some clams on the half-shell, and I did; they were expensive, but, man, you should've seen this guy opening them! It was really a sight to behold. So, he's standing there, a clam knife in his right hand, and an enormous bin of raw clams to his left, looking grizzled. I asked him for half a dozen, and he just tore through them with grace the likes of which I've never seen. He did all seven (he had thrown an extra one in because business was slow) in less than the time it would've taken me to do one. It was amazing to watch him.
Having finished my clams I lay down to read some more, but the sun was taking its toll, and I felt drowsy. I never really regained my original reading zeal, and quite a few hours had passed. I read half-distractedly for a bit more and then headed home.
It was a fantastic day, but it really made me miss the west coast. There's something about the water over there which is really divine. New York isn't really a beach-oriented town, but Coney Island never fails to be, at the very least, endearing.
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[10 Sep 2003|11:00pm] |
Laura est aegra!
sic non iit ad scholam.
sentitne bene?
Oh, poor Laura! I think she's dozing now. Someone ought to make her some tea, or soup.
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| Tempus fugit... |
[06 Sep 2003|07:01pm] |
Oh, dear!! How am I ever going to get everything done before school starts? I need to clean the apartment, finish summer reading, and...well, I guess that's all. Still, they're both daunting tasks, and doubly daunting when they need to be done in one remaining day.
But I digress.
Went errand-running with Madre today. I got a new pair of pants: brown corduroys from the Gap. I bought school supplies, too, and then we went home.
How refreshing it is to be able to sum up an entire day in two lines of text! I've got to put myself into a mindset to handle an extremely eventful schedule.
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[05 Sep 2003|11:14am] |
Whoa...the livejournal website is so different from the way it was when I went to bed! This is like Planet of the Apes. How long have I been asleep, I wonder...?
Anyway, guess what! I'm going to Jamaica with Laura next summer to work as "helpers" at a clinic in St. Elizabeth. I'm really excited, as is she; we can relax in tropical paradise, serve the com-mu-ni-ty...it'll be great! I'm all for giving back to the world. It's about time I started doing something pious, especially as I'm going to be confirmed this October.
She also is excited, as am I, about having such an accomplishment on her proverbial résumé...surely college admissions people would look favorably on her after this, which is not to say that she isn't a fine, upstanding young woman anyway.
But, I mustn't get ahead of myself...there's much to be done before then.
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[04 Sep 2003|01:21am] |
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I never realize how dependent I am on school (or CTY, or whatever) to distract me until I'm left to my own devices. At times like these, when my bare, unadulterated emotions are exposed, I miss Laura the most. I know this is shaping up to be a tremendously cliché journal entry...and I'm tempted to break out into a verse of "'Round Midnight"...but I'll restrain myself. What I mean to say is that it's extremely frustrating to be so helpless to change my situation. If I had someone to blame for this, it might be different...at least my distraughtness would be directional, and I could vent more healthily. Instead I feel a sort of dreary, impotent nausea; I could use some school.
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[01 Sep 2003|03:08pm] |
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Oh, dear...are we in September already?! Back to school soon! It's time to start being productive...
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| Back! |
[01 Sep 2003|02:37pm] |
"This old town...—My native place, thought I have dwelt much away from it, both in boyhood and maturer years—possesses, or did possess, a hold on my affections, the force of which I have never realized during my seasons of actual residence here...."
I'm home at last, after a week in Westport, Massachussets, relaxing and taking in the refreshingly stifling city air. It was wonderful up there! I've never eaten so much raw fish in such a short period of time, which is something I'll miss. I also learned how to open clams and did a lot of fishing and some swimming. Since my last stay with Laura I've been totally addicted to swimming in the ocean. And so on.
But, really, there's no place like home.
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[26 Aug 2003|11:11pm] |
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Tomorrow afternoon, after my morning bass lesson, I'm leaving for Massachussets. Friends of my family live up there, at Westport Port. I'm really excited! I'm going to go swimming, and learn how to open clams (it's much more difficult and dangerous than one would think). It'll also be a good place to get summer reading done. Mmm, away from the city...trees...air...sky...time to ree-lax.
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| Ah, a cleansed livejournal... |
[25 Aug 2003|01:35pm] |
I'm going to the movies with Amy, my mother's ex-partner, today. I really can't stand this situation...she gives me all sorts of guilt trips. Every time I see her she complains that I don't see her enough. It makes me wonder why I do this at all. But, I guess you don't tend to talk very much in a movie.
We're seeing Finding Nemo. I'm excited. Doesn't "nemo" mean "nobody" in Latin? I wonder if that means anything...
P. S. Godspeed to my lovely girlfriend Laura (redundantagain), who celebrates her first day of school today.
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| Steve Purges Past Entries |
[24 Aug 2003|04:44pm] |
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For too long outdated, ridiculous entries have clouded this journal. After more than a year of complete abandonment I've decided to start all over. Having deleted every single entry one by one (it took two hours), I'm ready to humbly return as a journal writer born anew.
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