Just got this link from Stacey:
Don't Blame Bush
Now I'm not going to say this is all Bush's fault. This may strike some of my readers as odd, because on most issues I'm not a W fan, but I'll say that he's getting on the ball. He was not on the ball, and why FEMA waited for an engraved invitation (because you were obviously on holiday in Tuscany without television and unaware, if the executives of FEMA would be so kind as to send in relief, the people of New Orleans would be most grateful. You see, while you were sipping your Mai Tai, that Category 5 just snuck up on us...) to show up and do their f-ing jobs is beyond me, but the man is trying to make things right.
That being said, Christopher Ruddy has just added himself to my nasty letter list. Read the article - he's a few steps shy of being a sadist. Sure, I'm convinced that the Louisiana State officials could have taken care of themselves and would have not required federal help.
IF:
1. the phone lines in south Louisiana had not been knocked out
2. the power in south Louisiana had not been knocked out
3. the city of New Orleans had not been under water
4. the good Witch of the North had showed up with her magic f*cking wand and made it all right
What's that? You can't help yourself? You mean you weren't completely prepared for a Category 5 hurricane? Obviously you're sleeping on the job, Mayor Nagin. I can't even believe this kind of shit gets published.
Ruddy says, "Common sense suggests that local and state governments are best able to prepare and plan for local disasters." Well that's all good and fine mister, but when your resources are UNDER WATER you're kind of at a disadvantage. We'll remember that the next time your house is on fire.
Who are these soul-less bastards? And how do they sleep at night, I want to know.
The Today Show has already received two nasty emails about Campbell Brown, that turncoat hosebag who tried to point the finger at Ray Nagin on television. Yeah, real smooth there Campbell - point the finger at the mayor of New Orleans who's been down there pulling bodies out of the water. I'm sorry, what were you doing? Getting a pedicure? Going to your Pilates class? Doing the Times crossword? Don't even try to hold that candle to Ray Nagin honey, your cheap suit will catch on fire and it will take FEMA a week to get to your charred ass.
What happened to the sense of humanity? To reach out and help your neighbor? To help and protect those less fortunate? Why should the poor, sick and elderly be allowed to participate in social cleansing because no one feels like it's their responsibility to help? IT'S JUST WRONG. You don't wait for a city in need to ask for help. No one waited for the citizens of New York to say, "Excuse us, but could someone please send help? Lunatics have crashed planes into the World Trade Center." Why should this be any different? We even saw it coming.
And I'm not talking about Christian sentiment here. This is a sentiment that supercedes all lines of organized religion. This is a sentiment that says, "If I'm in serious trouble, someone will have the decency to reach out and help me."
As my beloved would say from time to time, "F*ck you, nasty letter to follow."
And my nasty letters only get nastier when I don't get a response.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Damn Yankees
Okay, I am officially furious. I watched this interview on MSNBC.com between Mayor Ray Nagin and Campbell Brown:
The help did not come
Click the link, and scroll down to the "More Katrina Videos" section to the interview of the above name.
I already sent one scathing email to the Today Show blasting them for having such a moron as Campbell Brown covering this event when she PLAINLY has no idea what she is talking about, but have also sent a group email to my friends with the link.
Watch the interview. I especially like the part where she asks him, and I'm quoting,
"Well Mr. Mayor, why didn't you do anything? You're the mayor of the city...Don't you bear some responsibility for what's happened here?"
Well Campbell Brown, why didn't YOU do anything. Why didn't YOU go down to the ninth ward and knock on doors and tell people to leave the city. Why didn't YOU volunteer for the Red Cross and donate your salary to the Hurricane Relief? And HOW DARE YOU stand in judgment over Ray Nagin when you have not been there since day one, when you have not stood alongside him and pulled bodies out of the water and smelled the stench of flesh and human waste inside the Superdome.
It's so easy to sit back in your New York office and look at New Orleans and say "Those people should have gotten themselves out of the city. They should have gotten out when they had the time. It's their own fault." And that is the response of anyone who has never set foot in New Orleans, or tried to drive out of it during a hurricane evacuation. Yes, contraflow was a good idea, but when it only goes as far as Baton Rouge, all it does is create a giant traffic jam in the middle of the city of Baton Rouge. I suppose the theory is that BR is far enough inland to be safe but sorry people, BR is NOT big enough to house every person who lives in the greater New Orleans area last time I checked.
Unmitigated ignorance, audacity, and sheer gall. When I get Campbell Brown's address I'm going to write her a personal letter and ask her if she feels she's done enough now. If she feels it's enough to go on television and point the finger at the Mayor of New Orleans. I don't see her pulling out her carpet knife and going house to house helping people. I don't see her feeding the refugees or offering up her house to house them. She should just go ahead and donate her salary now because that would be the only worthwhile thing she could possibly do to redeem her status from a soul-less damn Yankee.
Take your f*cking carpetbag and go back up North, drink your mochaccino and think you're superior. Don't come back, we don't want your kind around to suck up the oxygen. Bottom feeder.
The help did not come
Click the link, and scroll down to the "More Katrina Videos" section to the interview of the above name.
I already sent one scathing email to the Today Show blasting them for having such a moron as Campbell Brown covering this event when she PLAINLY has no idea what she is talking about, but have also sent a group email to my friends with the link.
Watch the interview. I especially like the part where she asks him, and I'm quoting,
"Well Mr. Mayor, why didn't you do anything? You're the mayor of the city...Don't you bear some responsibility for what's happened here?"
Well Campbell Brown, why didn't YOU do anything. Why didn't YOU go down to the ninth ward and knock on doors and tell people to leave the city. Why didn't YOU volunteer for the Red Cross and donate your salary to the Hurricane Relief? And HOW DARE YOU stand in judgment over Ray Nagin when you have not been there since day one, when you have not stood alongside him and pulled bodies out of the water and smelled the stench of flesh and human waste inside the Superdome.
It's so easy to sit back in your New York office and look at New Orleans and say "Those people should have gotten themselves out of the city. They should have gotten out when they had the time. It's their own fault." And that is the response of anyone who has never set foot in New Orleans, or tried to drive out of it during a hurricane evacuation. Yes, contraflow was a good idea, but when it only goes as far as Baton Rouge, all it does is create a giant traffic jam in the middle of the city of Baton Rouge. I suppose the theory is that BR is far enough inland to be safe but sorry people, BR is NOT big enough to house every person who lives in the greater New Orleans area last time I checked.
Unmitigated ignorance, audacity, and sheer gall. When I get Campbell Brown's address I'm going to write her a personal letter and ask her if she feels she's done enough now. If she feels it's enough to go on television and point the finger at the Mayor of New Orleans. I don't see her pulling out her carpet knife and going house to house helping people. I don't see her feeding the refugees or offering up her house to house them. She should just go ahead and donate her salary now because that would be the only worthwhile thing she could possibly do to redeem her status from a soul-less damn Yankee.
Take your f*cking carpetbag and go back up North, drink your mochaccino and think you're superior. Don't come back, we don't want your kind around to suck up the oxygen. Bottom feeder.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Do you know what it means?
Okay, I have finally reached my breaking point. DP talked about not being able to cry, feeling dammed up inside and not knowing when it was going to give way. Tonight was my undoing. It's bad enough that everywhere I turn on the T, someone is reading a copy of the Boston Globe with the giant pictures of my beloved city in ruin and the headling "DESTRUCTION" screaming out at me, but tonight when NBC aired their hurricane relief concert, not only was I subjected to Aaron Neville, but Harry Connick Jr. went on TV and sang "Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?"
Now I have a little speech that I give to foreigners about how to pronounce the name of my hometown. And one is only allowed to say "New Orleens" when singing the aforementioned song. And I have to say that I bawled like a baby.
The whole city is hurting. And I'm hurting with it.
Now I have a little speech that I give to foreigners about how to pronounce the name of my hometown. And one is only allowed to say "New Orleens" when singing the aforementioned song. And I have to say that I bawled like a baby.
The whole city is hurting. And I'm hurting with it.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
day four
The grandparents have taken refuge in Texas, the parents are going to and from the house to make salvage runs, and we're still waiting for phone lines to be restored.
Don't know what the next step is for my parents, or for the rest of my family. Many have children who are supposed to graduate high school in New Orleans this year, but that seems impossible now. Reports of price gouging in Mississippi for gas and Memphis for apartments, short-term rentals. Have no idea where my parents will make camp until their house is repaired, if they even choose to stay there.
Don't know what the next step is for me - the location of my wedding is uncertain, as the city of my choice will probably not be open for business...
Sorry to be so scattered, have been poked and prodded for information by every member of my family. Only wish I knew more.
For every family member who desperately wants to talk to their relatives as much as I do, my heart goes out to you. The silence is deafening and I have to resist the urge to throw my phone against the wall every time I get the "due to the hurricane in the area you are attempting to call" message. I can't watch the television any more, the pictures are so saddening, the videos of people who were perhaps once sane and civil, turned animal in the streets.
And the president is doing an aerial tour. Not that I blame his security - I wouldn't want to drop down in the middle of that madness. But I doubt he will be able to fully appreciate the destruction without seeing the faces of the desperate people who have lost everything and are held hostage by the lunatics with guns on the ground.
Keep praying y'all, the worst is NOT over
Don't know what the next step is for my parents, or for the rest of my family. Many have children who are supposed to graduate high school in New Orleans this year, but that seems impossible now. Reports of price gouging in Mississippi for gas and Memphis for apartments, short-term rentals. Have no idea where my parents will make camp until their house is repaired, if they even choose to stay there.
Don't know what the next step is for me - the location of my wedding is uncertain, as the city of my choice will probably not be open for business...
Sorry to be so scattered, have been poked and prodded for information by every member of my family. Only wish I knew more.
For every family member who desperately wants to talk to their relatives as much as I do, my heart goes out to you. The silence is deafening and I have to resist the urge to throw my phone against the wall every time I get the "due to the hurricane in the area you are attempting to call" message. I can't watch the television any more, the pictures are so saddening, the videos of people who were perhaps once sane and civil, turned animal in the streets.
And the president is doing an aerial tour. Not that I blame his security - I wouldn't want to drop down in the middle of that madness. But I doubt he will be able to fully appreciate the destruction without seeing the faces of the desperate people who have lost everything and are held hostage by the lunatics with guns on the ground.
Keep praying y'all, the worst is NOT over
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
I once was lost, but now am found
Praise the Lord, Jean Hindrichs is safe and sound - and when I get a hold of her she's going to get the tongue lashing of her lifetime - and with my father. Don't know what the immediate plan is, but she's safe and that's all that matters!
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
one little, two little, three little Hindrichs
Here's the latest from hysteria hurricane central:
My grandparents, though crotchety, took a tree through the bedroom roof. They still refuse to leave. My grandfather is industrious as ever, helping his neighbors clean up debris. I have not heard their voices, but my aunt spoke to their neighbor via satellite phone.
My father is still at the hospital, where he has remained since Sunday night. They have no AC, are running on backup generator power, and no phones, but he called from a satellite phone to tell me he's okay.
My mother.
My mother is not okay. My mother is still MIA and it does NOT make me happy and even if she is just holed up in the attic of our house waiting for the national guard to get her out I want to talk to her. I want the cell phone towers to magically mend and a signal clear as day to come through to tell me she is all right. I never again want to have to bite my lip while I talk to every school administrator possible to find my brother so I can tell him that no, our mother has not yet surfaced. He's a teenager so his first response is anger but I know he is hurting as much as I am. I don't want to have to call my aunt and tell her that her youngest sister is still not found.
Pray hard people - she's a pain in the ass but she's my mother and I don't get a trade-in.
My grandparents, though crotchety, took a tree through the bedroom roof. They still refuse to leave. My grandfather is industrious as ever, helping his neighbors clean up debris. I have not heard their voices, but my aunt spoke to their neighbor via satellite phone.
My father is still at the hospital, where he has remained since Sunday night. They have no AC, are running on backup generator power, and no phones, but he called from a satellite phone to tell me he's okay.
My mother.
My mother is not okay. My mother is still MIA and it does NOT make me happy and even if she is just holed up in the attic of our house waiting for the national guard to get her out I want to talk to her. I want the cell phone towers to magically mend and a signal clear as day to come through to tell me she is all right. I never again want to have to bite my lip while I talk to every school administrator possible to find my brother so I can tell him that no, our mother has not yet surfaced. He's a teenager so his first response is anger but I know he is hurting as much as I am. I don't want to have to call my aunt and tell her that her youngest sister is still not found.
Pray hard people - she's a pain in the ass but she's my mother and I don't get a trade-in.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Carrier pigeons
As in I need one.
Spent most of the day fretting (fretfretfret) and trying to call the homeland, but to no avail. I speculate that mom is cleaning up the yard and the shards of glass if there are any, and playing with the dog. It is my fondest hope that the house remained the island as she and pop promised it would, and that everyone is okay. Looking at the news only makes me depressed, especially with the moron patrol reporting live from Biloxi (pronounced by these yahoos "bilocksi") from inside their Hurricane-mobiles and talking about how the water is just sitting now, filled with the debris of houses and roofing shingles and lawn furniture. NO East is underwater so getting across the lake is out of the question, and even if my folks could leave the driveway I doubt they would.
No word since early this morning. I'm about to break out the smoke signals. I know I should be more patient but I just want to hear my mother's voice so I can tell her I'm mad at her for not going to a shelter like a sane person and making me worry all the day long.
Slow busy signal = busy
Fast busy signal = disconnected/out of order?
Spent most of the day fretting (fretfretfret) and trying to call the homeland, but to no avail. I speculate that mom is cleaning up the yard and the shards of glass if there are any, and playing with the dog. It is my fondest hope that the house remained the island as she and pop promised it would, and that everyone is okay. Looking at the news only makes me depressed, especially with the moron patrol reporting live from Biloxi (pronounced by these yahoos "bilocksi") from inside their Hurricane-mobiles and talking about how the water is just sitting now, filled with the debris of houses and roofing shingles and lawn furniture. NO East is underwater so getting across the lake is out of the question, and even if my folks could leave the driveway I doubt they would.
No word since early this morning. I'm about to break out the smoke signals. I know I should be more patient but I just want to hear my mother's voice so I can tell her I'm mad at her for not going to a shelter like a sane person and making me worry all the day long.
Slow busy signal = busy
Fast busy signal = disconnected/out of order?
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Contraflow
This word sounds like something that's used to tune a bass clarinet, but "contraflow" (a word that has only recently entered my vocabulary) pertains to the redirection of traffic for purposes of evacuation. Namely, the evacuation of the greater New Orleans area.
And where, you might ask, are the other members of my family?
My brother is happily holed up in his dorm in Natchitoches, probably continuing to play online war games against his dorm-mates, eating mac and cheese, watching videos.
My mother and father, much to my consternation, have decided to stay put. That's right kids, a category FIVE hurricane is headed straight for the greater New Orleans area, and my parents are holing up in their house in Slidell with Max the dachsund and their recent purchases from Sam's Club, and they plan to wait it out. I'm not an alarmist by nature. I've sat through many hurricanes, calmly putting tape on the windows and putting the old piano up on books and going to the grocery to get gallons of water and later in the dorm, going down to Kroger to rent videos in preparation for the hurricane party to be held while school was closed and the city curfew was in effect. But when a hurricane of this magnitude shows up, you get the heck out and that's all there is to it. I don't know if my folks have become senile or just plain old ornery, but this "we've weathered it before, we'll do it again" mentality makes me very nervous.
Pray hard y'all, this could be the big one. And if it does, I just might be getting married on the Algiers ferry after all - providing that the riverbanks are still intact.
And to anyone who lives in the region, be safe and check in when you get a moment.
And where, you might ask, are the other members of my family?
My brother is happily holed up in his dorm in Natchitoches, probably continuing to play online war games against his dorm-mates, eating mac and cheese, watching videos.
My mother and father, much to my consternation, have decided to stay put. That's right kids, a category FIVE hurricane is headed straight for the greater New Orleans area, and my parents are holing up in their house in Slidell with Max the dachsund and their recent purchases from Sam's Club, and they plan to wait it out. I'm not an alarmist by nature. I've sat through many hurricanes, calmly putting tape on the windows and putting the old piano up on books and going to the grocery to get gallons of water and later in the dorm, going down to Kroger to rent videos in preparation for the hurricane party to be held while school was closed and the city curfew was in effect. But when a hurricane of this magnitude shows up, you get the heck out and that's all there is to it. I don't know if my folks have become senile or just plain old ornery, but this "we've weathered it before, we'll do it again" mentality makes me very nervous.
Pray hard y'all, this could be the big one. And if it does, I just might be getting married on the Algiers ferry after all - providing that the riverbanks are still intact.
And to anyone who lives in the region, be safe and check in when you get a moment.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Candide
My housemate Joel is blasting Candide from his room. It's another lazy day in Newton, going to work more on the swing, might clean the floors today. Took the fiancee to the airport this morning at 5:45am. Driving in Boston isn't nearly so hideous when there's no one on the road, and the skyline is really quite lovely. Reminds me of DC - not like NYC with all the tall buildings.
Spoke with the pastor this morning about wedding plans. He is, as ever, wonderful and completely sympathetic to the pre-wedding madness that seems to ensue for every bride. Am awaiting a package in the mail from the mother that is meant to contain the invitations - hopefully this will come before school starts so I can begin the long process of addressing them. Blech. Maybe I can find a nice handwriting-ish font that doesn't look too computerized.....don't tell Emily Post.
Not so much to say today - big shoutout to the DP and her job hijinx. Just remember, if all else fails, switch to another language. I think from now on, when someone bugs me, I'm just going to start talking in German.
Spoke with the pastor this morning about wedding plans. He is, as ever, wonderful and completely sympathetic to the pre-wedding madness that seems to ensue for every bride. Am awaiting a package in the mail from the mother that is meant to contain the invitations - hopefully this will come before school starts so I can begin the long process of addressing them. Blech. Maybe I can find a nice handwriting-ish font that doesn't look too computerized.....don't tell Emily Post.
Not so much to say today - big shoutout to the DP and her job hijinx. Just remember, if all else fails, switch to another language. I think from now on, when someone bugs me, I'm just going to start talking in German.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Things to do when school hasn't started yet
School starts on Sept 7th. Orientation begins this coming Sunday, which I think involves a series of meetings that I've already attended at least once every time I started another year of grad school where they explain financial responsibility to us and tell us to budget our time. I find this ironic as almost no one who's going to graduate school for music budgets their time according to one of those "how to work and go to school at the same time" books that say things like:
1. take naps whenever you can
2. do your homework before dinner
3. try not to stay up or work too late
simply because
1. musicians don't nap, they practice
2. our homework doesn't get done until we're out of rehearsal
3. staying up and working late is what allows us to work so you do the math
But until I go back to the daily grind, I'm enjoying a little bit of free time. Not the kind of free time that involves putting off things you have to do, but real free time. Yesterday, I took down all 16 sets of blinds and hosed them down in the back yard. Today, after cleaning the kitchen and putting up pictures and diplomas on the walls, I got the idea to sand and refinish my porch swing. Nothing is easy to find in Massachusetts so 30 minutes later we finally found the Home Depot. The fiancee is better at city driving than I, so I am the official navigator (barring today's experience, where I failed miserably) of our journeys into the wilderness. Tomorrow we go to Framingham to pick up some air conditioning units. Once again, northern social Darwinism at work, there is no AC in our house. So far it's been really okay - Boston is having "unseasonably cool" weather that permits us to keep the windows open and a box fan going, nothing so barbaric as what I experienced in the dorm in Vermont.
Tomorrow we'll finish sanding down the swing and start on the base - hopefully it'll be sanded and stained by tomorrow evening and I can drag it into the garage to dry. And then, I think I'll start on the window washing adventure. (Emily, your OCD is showing.....)
Hope everyone is enjoying the "unseasonably cool" weather as well. I'm going to take a walk and see the gas lights in the next block.
1. take naps whenever you can
2. do your homework before dinner
3. try not to stay up or work too late
simply because
1. musicians don't nap, they practice
2. our homework doesn't get done until we're out of rehearsal
3. staying up and working late is what allows us to work so you do the math
But until I go back to the daily grind, I'm enjoying a little bit of free time. Not the kind of free time that involves putting off things you have to do, but real free time. Yesterday, I took down all 16 sets of blinds and hosed them down in the back yard. Today, after cleaning the kitchen and putting up pictures and diplomas on the walls, I got the idea to sand and refinish my porch swing. Nothing is easy to find in Massachusetts so 30 minutes later we finally found the Home Depot. The fiancee is better at city driving than I, so I am the official navigator (barring today's experience, where I failed miserably) of our journeys into the wilderness. Tomorrow we go to Framingham to pick up some air conditioning units. Once again, northern social Darwinism at work, there is no AC in our house. So far it's been really okay - Boston is having "unseasonably cool" weather that permits us to keep the windows open and a box fan going, nothing so barbaric as what I experienced in the dorm in Vermont.
Tomorrow we'll finish sanding down the swing and start on the base - hopefully it'll be sanded and stained by tomorrow evening and I can drag it into the garage to dry. And then, I think I'll start on the window washing adventure. (Emily, your OCD is showing.....)
Hope everyone is enjoying the "unseasonably cool" weather as well. I'm going to take a walk and see the gas lights in the next block.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Why blank cards are better
So I was amusing myself by reading a little online news while my housemates watch When Harry Met Sally and came across this story on MSNBC. I do not know which online news channels are better and even though I read the New York Times online, I still dabble in the everyday trash. And I have to ask, have we reached such a point in social norms that it is socially acceptable to send greeting cards to extramarital affair participants? Will there soon be greeting cards addressed "To the girl my brother hooks up with when his wife is out of town"?
Sidebar: Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan singing "Surrey with the fringe on top" is on the list of the most hilarious things ever.
Sidebar: Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan singing "Surrey with the fringe on top" is on the list of the most hilarious things ever.
Fig Newton
Day three of the new house. So far, the living room is almost box free, I can see the floor in my office now, and we managed to eat dinner on a card table in the middle of the dining room last night, betwixt the boxes of books and the porch swing. We have no porch, as such, and the back yard is on a hill (with a very sweet strawberry patch) but I have to say, the house is possibly the larges domicile in which I have lived since my parents' house. I actually don't have enough clothes to fill my walk-in closet. I don't have enough shoes to fill the shoe rack and that is pretty amazing. My landlord is AWESOME and loves dogs so that bodes well for Sam, and the only minor snafu involved the circus taking place in the driveway. Lots to do, several boxes to unpack (the office WILL be done today) and then I start work in the morning at Trinity Boston - see the link at the right if you're interested!
Updates as they arise, go Beantown!
Updates as they arise, go Beantown!
Thursday, August 11, 2005
the end of the line
Okay,I know that I'm really desperate for american filmage when I watch Vier Hochzeiten und ein Todesfall.
And just for DP - the part where Mr. Bean is the priest and he says "in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spigot" - in German it was translated as "in der Name des Vaters, des Sohns und die Heiligen Schweizer." Wow.
And just for DP - the part where Mr. Bean is the priest and he says "in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spigot" - in German it was translated as "in der Name des Vaters, des Sohns und die Heiligen Schweizer." Wow.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
The long hot summer
I remember this movie as something I wasn't allowed to watch when I was about six. I think mom sent me out of the room or told me to go practice piano. But that is not the time of which I speak, oh no. The time of which I speak is taking place right here, right now in Vermont, where it is 88 in my room and 90 outside and unless I'm sitting in front of the fan, I feel like I'm back in Louisiana, only without the nice people and the Gulf of Mexico and the po-boys you can get at the truck stop for five bucks.
Tomorrow we make the drive home. Three people, sixteen hours, one Honda accord and hopefully only a few stops along the way. My parents were really into the great American road trip when I was a teenager. I'm certain that both DP and Drew can attest to my enthusiasm for the Hindrichs vacations - it usually involved me sitting in the back seat with the brother, trying to not get motion sickness, mom and dad arguing about where we were going to stay, me wishing I was back in Slidell happily sitting in my room reading Poe, and Armand playing with legos. Ah the good old days.
Armand starts his senior year tomorrow. He's pretty jazzed and I don't blame him. I remember my senior year being pretty cool, especially as most of the drama has faded to grey. Senior year is one of those precipice years, where you're certain that something marvelous is about to happen. And then, suddenly, it does.
You move out of your parents' house.
Armand is still in his secretive phase. There's a new girl in whom he's taken an interest and he says to me, "Don't tell mom anything, will you? She and pop make such a big deal out of everything and I don't want to screw it up." I find this very sweet. My little brother is finally using his big sister for her true purpose: keeper of all things our parents aren't supposed to know. I feel so sisterly now.
Probably gonna be out of touch for the next week. We've already had the internet and telephone disconnected at the IN house and I'll be up to my eyeballs in packing and whatnot. So until we get settled in the Boston house, have a good week from your friendly neighborhood Shiksa!
Tomorrow we make the drive home. Three people, sixteen hours, one Honda accord and hopefully only a few stops along the way. My parents were really into the great American road trip when I was a teenager. I'm certain that both DP and Drew can attest to my enthusiasm for the Hindrichs vacations - it usually involved me sitting in the back seat with the brother, trying to not get motion sickness, mom and dad arguing about where we were going to stay, me wishing I was back in Slidell happily sitting in my room reading Poe, and Armand playing with legos. Ah the good old days.
Armand starts his senior year tomorrow. He's pretty jazzed and I don't blame him. I remember my senior year being pretty cool, especially as most of the drama has faded to grey. Senior year is one of those precipice years, where you're certain that something marvelous is about to happen. And then, suddenly, it does.
You move out of your parents' house.
Armand is still in his secretive phase. There's a new girl in whom he's taken an interest and he says to me, "Don't tell mom anything, will you? She and pop make such a big deal out of everything and I don't want to screw it up." I find this very sweet. My little brother is finally using his big sister for her true purpose: keeper of all things our parents aren't supposed to know. I feel so sisterly now.
Probably gonna be out of touch for the next week. We've already had the internet and telephone disconnected at the IN house and I'll be up to my eyeballs in packing and whatnot. So until we get settled in the Boston house, have a good week from your friendly neighborhood Shiksa!
Monday, August 08, 2005
Someone stole my umlaut
If anyone knows how to use umlauts in AIM, I'd be pleased as punch for them to enlighten me. I was talking to a particularly nice man (who happens to be married to my particularly nice friend) on AIM today, in German, and suddenly realized that none of my verbs were properly conjugated because of the noticeable lack of umlauts. I need an umlaut in my life. Anyone?
Four more days of German camp and I can break free of the linguistic ties that bind me and read the new Harry Potter book for crying out loud! As usual, I am being stealth and listening to the Indigo Girls on my walkman, giving the illusion that I am not actually breaking the language pledge. I like to think of these little forays in the same way an Atkins dieter thinks of the hershey kisses in the top drawer of their desk. It's such a negligible amount of English, it doesn't actually negate the German I learned today. Though earlier this morning, I likened my brain to a lint roller. At one point in time this summer it was ready to grab whatever was around to be learned but now it's been used so many times, Conjunctive II didn't even stick a little.
Sidebar - Earth Wind and Fire are playing in Indianapolis the night before we move to Boston. Can I just say that it pains my soul I can't go see them because I have to drive twelve hours the next day? I think the only thing more exciting than an Earth Wind and Fire concert would be if ABBA got back together and went on tour. And I don't want to hear anything from anyone about how I'm getting my doctorate in classical music and aren't I supposed to listen to opera in my spare time - even opera singers have to get their groove on. When I teach music appreciation (which I'm sure I will have to do as a new professor) you can bet your Madonna CD's that I'm gonna play English drinking songs right alongside Purcell. Which brings me to my trivia question for today. What's your favorite Beatles song? (mine is Eleanor Rigby)
And just for kicks, I followed DP's example and made a quiz. Have fun!
Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!
Four more days of German camp and I can break free of the linguistic ties that bind me and read the new Harry Potter book for crying out loud! As usual, I am being stealth and listening to the Indigo Girls on my walkman, giving the illusion that I am not actually breaking the language pledge. I like to think of these little forays in the same way an Atkins dieter thinks of the hershey kisses in the top drawer of their desk. It's such a negligible amount of English, it doesn't actually negate the German I learned today. Though earlier this morning, I likened my brain to a lint roller. At one point in time this summer it was ready to grab whatever was around to be learned but now it's been used so many times, Conjunctive II didn't even stick a little.
Sidebar - Earth Wind and Fire are playing in Indianapolis the night before we move to Boston. Can I just say that it pains my soul I can't go see them because I have to drive twelve hours the next day? I think the only thing more exciting than an Earth Wind and Fire concert would be if ABBA got back together and went on tour. And I don't want to hear anything from anyone about how I'm getting my doctorate in classical music and aren't I supposed to listen to opera in my spare time - even opera singers have to get their groove on. When I teach music appreciation (which I'm sure I will have to do as a new professor) you can bet your Madonna CD's that I'm gonna play English drinking songs right alongside Purcell. Which brings me to my trivia question for today. What's your favorite Beatles song? (mine is Eleanor Rigby)
And just for kicks, I followed DP's example and made a quiz. Have fun!
Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Beast of Burden
I'm listening to the Rolling Stones - more English contraband - and I have to say, this is really the perfect summer music. It makes me want to make a strawberry margarita and sit on the back porch with my sunglasses on and throw the ball for Sam. Oh how I miss my little house.
In exactly ten days, we will pack the truck and hit the road for Boston. I'm excited, of course, but terrified at the same time. Have to find a new grocery store, have to figure out the best way to get to work (as I have to start work two days after we get there) and get acquainted with the
T and such. Boston is a great city - I think I've finally figured out where I belong as a musician in the US who doesn't like New York. The fiancee and I were having this conversation last night - I think a large amount of my wanderlust is fueled by the fact that the last two places I've lived were Bloomington and Hattiesburg, neither of which conjure up images of culture or an exciting atmosphere. Every year, I know a bunch of opera singers who get this bug to live in a big city. They sell their furniture, go in together on a studio in Manhattan and spend 12 hours of their day waiting tables in hopes that, by being there, they will somehow get absorbed into the opera scene.
I am too much of a creature comforts person to do this. That and I don't really like New York. It's a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Or near there. It's too crowded, the buildings are too tall and I always feel a little claustrophobic there. The three or four times I've been to Boston, I always feel like I belong there. New Orleans will always be home, but Boston could definitely compete. I like the notion of only using my car when I need to go to the grocery store or get out of town. Public transportation is really my idea of a dream - I can sit on the T and read my book on the way to work, I don't have to drive, I still have to leave 45 minutes early, but I don't have to find a parking space let alone pay for it, I don't have to deal with the psychos that drive in Boston (yes friends, only drove in Boston once and thought I would surely perish) and when it's snowing, I only have to get from the curb to the platform and I don't have to de-ice my windshield or dig my car out at 6:45am. *sigh*
Hope everyone has had a fantastic weekend!
In exactly ten days, we will pack the truck and hit the road for Boston. I'm excited, of course, but terrified at the same time. Have to find a new grocery store, have to figure out the best way to get to work (as I have to start work two days after we get there) and get acquainted with the
T and such. Boston is a great city - I think I've finally figured out where I belong as a musician in the US who doesn't like New York. The fiancee and I were having this conversation last night - I think a large amount of my wanderlust is fueled by the fact that the last two places I've lived were Bloomington and Hattiesburg, neither of which conjure up images of culture or an exciting atmosphere. Every year, I know a bunch of opera singers who get this bug to live in a big city. They sell their furniture, go in together on a studio in Manhattan and spend 12 hours of their day waiting tables in hopes that, by being there, they will somehow get absorbed into the opera scene.
I am too much of a creature comforts person to do this. That and I don't really like New York. It's a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Or near there. It's too crowded, the buildings are too tall and I always feel a little claustrophobic there. The three or four times I've been to Boston, I always feel like I belong there. New Orleans will always be home, but Boston could definitely compete. I like the notion of only using my car when I need to go to the grocery store or get out of town. Public transportation is really my idea of a dream - I can sit on the T and read my book on the way to work, I don't have to drive, I still have to leave 45 minutes early, but I don't have to find a parking space let alone pay for it, I don't have to deal with the psychos that drive in Boston (yes friends, only drove in Boston once and thought I would surely perish) and when it's snowing, I only have to get from the curb to the platform and I don't have to de-ice my windshield or dig my car out at 6:45am. *sigh*
Hope everyone has had a fantastic weekend!
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Sleepin in
It's a little after 11am and I'm still in bed. When I say I'm still in bed, I mean this literally - complete with the laptop on my pyjama-clad lap, and I don't plan on moving for at least a little while. The cocktail party was a blast - my roommate Joel and I were the "retro" pair for the night, me with my flapper hair and t-strap dancing shoes and him with his pinstripe suit. For about the first hour and a half, in keeping with the supposed "cocktail" mood, there was a constant stream of Billie Holiday and Frank Sinatra, so Joel and I decided to move the chairs out of the way and cut us some rug.
These are the reasons why I'm glad Joel is my roommate: he's tall, I'm tall, he's goofy, I'm also goofy (no comments from the peanut gallery!), he likes to ballroom dance, I like to ballroom dance, his fiancee likes me, my fiancee likes him. And all of this works out in such a way that permits us to have a pretty good house with rent that's affordable for all.
As with most dressy occasions here at Deutsch camp, I had my contacts in and the requisite amount of makeup and whatnot, and was completely unrecognizable to everyone in my grammar class. And yes friends, "incognito" IS a German word. I think my German is actually better when I've had four screwdrivers. Either that, or it just feels like it's better. My German high school teacher suitemate said to me "Wenn man trinkt, denkt man nicht so viel über die Wörter. Man nur sprichst, und das geht immer besser!" (When one drinks, they don't think so much about the words. They only speak, and that goes a lot better.)
But I think I drove the fiancee nuts - I was so excited about my fluid German I forgot to talk to him in English....Arme Mann - er hat keine Ahnung was ich sagen wollen und er war so verwirrt weil jetzt ich so schnell sprechen will. Aber das freut mich! Ich bin immer so stoltz auf mich - ich fühle mehr wie ein echt deutsche Frau.
Wer ist die Frau? Ich bin die Frau!
I love literal translations. The other day, one of Megan's friends actually said "Kein mehr Herr netter Mensch," which literally translated means "No more Mister Nice Guy." Deutsch makes my heart happy. And I take back (almost) everything I said that was nasty about German camp. It's the weekend, I have to sing on a master class for some Deutschland diva in three hours, and we're going to eat dinner in town tonight. For those of you who have perspective on my favorite small town in Louisiana, it's like walking from the HSB to Shipleys. Middlebury makes Natchitoches look metropolitan.
Y'all have a good weekend, I'm going to drag my lazy ass out of bed and eat breakfast.
These are the reasons why I'm glad Joel is my roommate: he's tall, I'm tall, he's goofy, I'm also goofy (no comments from the peanut gallery!), he likes to ballroom dance, I like to ballroom dance, his fiancee likes me, my fiancee likes him. And all of this works out in such a way that permits us to have a pretty good house with rent that's affordable for all.
As with most dressy occasions here at Deutsch camp, I had my contacts in and the requisite amount of makeup and whatnot, and was completely unrecognizable to everyone in my grammar class. And yes friends, "incognito" IS a German word. I think my German is actually better when I've had four screwdrivers. Either that, or it just feels like it's better. My German high school teacher suitemate said to me "Wenn man trinkt, denkt man nicht so viel über die Wörter. Man nur sprichst, und das geht immer besser!" (When one drinks, they don't think so much about the words. They only speak, and that goes a lot better.)
But I think I drove the fiancee nuts - I was so excited about my fluid German I forgot to talk to him in English....Arme Mann - er hat keine Ahnung was ich sagen wollen und er war so verwirrt weil jetzt ich so schnell sprechen will. Aber das freut mich! Ich bin immer so stoltz auf mich - ich fühle mehr wie ein echt deutsche Frau.
Wer ist die Frau? Ich bin die Frau!
I love literal translations. The other day, one of Megan's friends actually said "Kein mehr Herr netter Mensch," which literally translated means "No more Mister Nice Guy." Deutsch makes my heart happy. And I take back (almost) everything I said that was nasty about German camp. It's the weekend, I have to sing on a master class for some Deutschland diva in three hours, and we're going to eat dinner in town tonight. For those of you who have perspective on my favorite small town in Louisiana, it's like walking from the HSB to Shipleys. Middlebury makes Natchitoches look metropolitan.
Y'all have a good weekend, I'm going to drag my lazy ass out of bed and eat breakfast.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Magic Hat #9
...is the Vermont beer that I've discovered. Yum.
Today I took my last German test. And tonight at the cocktail party I'm gonna throw down like there's no tomorrow. (Not really, because I have a master class tomorrow morning with some diva from Germany who's going to try to explain to me how to have a career as a singer in Germany - I am ever so boring)
Not much to say as pertains to Vermont. It's nice, at the moment it's incredibly warm and raining (very much resembling LA in that respect) and I want to go home to my dog and my simmons beautyrest mattress.
In other news, I know cristi will find this amusing - my little brother has a blog.
Just to clarify, my LITTLE brother, who is nine years younger than me going to be a senior in high school actually might be five solid inches taller than me but still skinny as a rail has a thing for Asian girls and doesn't know how to drive just yet, has a blog.
I find this both intensely amusing and disturbing, largely because blogs tend to be geared toward the reader audience - and when the reader audience happens to be the upcoming senior class at LSMSA, I get to read some colorful things that I suspect my brother would not intend for adult eyes, namely my parents and, even though he gave me the link himself, probably not my eyes either.
I'm not going to post the link and thereby expose my brother's coolness shield, but if you're interested give me a shout and we'll be stealth.
And to DP - if you could see how things look for coming in on the 29th (that's a Thursday) there's gonna be a brat pack movie night!
Today I took my last German test. And tonight at the cocktail party I'm gonna throw down like there's no tomorrow. (Not really, because I have a master class tomorrow morning with some diva from Germany who's going to try to explain to me how to have a career as a singer in Germany - I am ever so boring)
Not much to say as pertains to Vermont. It's nice, at the moment it's incredibly warm and raining (very much resembling LA in that respect) and I want to go home to my dog and my simmons beautyrest mattress.
In other news, I know cristi will find this amusing - my little brother has a blog.
Just to clarify, my LITTLE brother, who is nine years younger than me going to be a senior in high school actually might be five solid inches taller than me but still skinny as a rail has a thing for Asian girls and doesn't know how to drive just yet, has a blog.
I find this both intensely amusing and disturbing, largely because blogs tend to be geared toward the reader audience - and when the reader audience happens to be the upcoming senior class at LSMSA, I get to read some colorful things that I suspect my brother would not intend for adult eyes, namely my parents and, even though he gave me the link himself, probably not my eyes either.
I'm not going to post the link and thereby expose my brother's coolness shield, but if you're interested give me a shout and we'll be stealth.
And to DP - if you could see how things look for coming in on the 29th (that's a Thursday) there's gonna be a brat pack movie night!
Monday, August 01, 2005
Zigeuner
This is my new favorite word in German. Zigeuner - gypsy. It just sounds exciting, doesn't it?
Taking a break from my essay on racism in the literature of the Third Reich. Fun stuff to talk about on a summer's day, let me tell you. It's already rained twice today and I think it's going to rain more. I always found it funny that, around 3pm every day in New Orleans, somewhere it rains. Can't explain that, but it's inevitable. It's overcast here, humid as all hell, and I miss my AC so much it's ridiculous.
Going to read some more Harry Potter. I was in Burlington last night and I resisted the urge to break free of the language pledge and dash into Borders to purchase the new Harry Potter book. I told Stacey earlier that if one can register for household appliances, one should be able to register for Harry Potter books. And if anyone wants to take me up on this idea, I'm angling for the British hardback edition for adults (no, not THAT kind of adult book!).
Only one more Monday left in German camp. I can't believe it's almost over.
Taking a break from my essay on racism in the literature of the Third Reich. Fun stuff to talk about on a summer's day, let me tell you. It's already rained twice today and I think it's going to rain more. I always found it funny that, around 3pm every day in New Orleans, somewhere it rains. Can't explain that, but it's inevitable. It's overcast here, humid as all hell, and I miss my AC so much it's ridiculous.
Going to read some more Harry Potter. I was in Burlington last night and I resisted the urge to break free of the language pledge and dash into Borders to purchase the new Harry Potter book. I told Stacey earlier that if one can register for household appliances, one should be able to register for Harry Potter books. And if anyone wants to take me up on this idea, I'm angling for the British hardback edition for adults (no, not THAT kind of adult book!).
Only one more Monday left in German camp. I can't believe it's almost over.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
all dressed up and nowhere to go
I'm not exactly dressed up, per se, but I am still dressed and it's 1:43am and I can't sleep.
This is never a good thing.
Usually when I can't sleep, my thoughts turn to all things in the Vergangenheit - the past. Tonight it's the same - all the things I should have done or would have done had I not made x choice. Sometimes it's what would have happened had I not left England. Sometimes it's what would have happened had I not left Louisiana.
What would have happened had I not left Louisiana?
I came across an LSMSA alum's blog and one of the entries was
"That school ruined my relationship with my daughter"
Can't tell you how many times I've heard that in my head before. Leaving home is interesting - we talked about that in literature the other day. I feel as if I've spent the last ten years of my life trying to make a home outside of my parents' house and in doing so, I am essentially homeless. My parents now live in a swanky suburb (if those two can coexist) with their off-white kid-free household and they own a Dachsund. It's not the old house, the house I grew up in, with the pretty white colums and the fireplace in front of which many embarassing photos were made, usually involving big hair, and the back yard with the swing and the little patch of concrete with frog prints in it, and the hedges that never grew together in one spot because my friends and I walked through them every day to each other's houses. My mom is getting her CPA soon and I think my dad will retire, at which point they will leave house-not-home number 2 and probably move to Seattle. And then my dad will have tons of fodder for making fun of granola-eating liberals and their touchy-feely birkenstock-like ways. The brother will go to college somewhere, remain cooler than all of us, and he will probably stay in Louisiana for the rest of his life. He's a homebody like that.
What would have happened had I not left Louisiana. Probably would have gone to LSU, learned to speak Spanish instead of French, moved in with Casey, double majored in music and literature, gone to Spain for a semester, finished up at LSU and become a nail stylist.
Okay, not entirely plausible, but these are the things that run through my head late at night. How many Robert Frost moments does one have - what if I hadn't taken the road less traveled and had stayed close to home with my mother and my family and people who have the same accent that I do?
Going to try to sleep. Can't get Goethe out of my head.
Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht?
Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin
Möcht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.
This is never a good thing.
Usually when I can't sleep, my thoughts turn to all things in the Vergangenheit - the past. Tonight it's the same - all the things I should have done or would have done had I not made x choice. Sometimes it's what would have happened had I not left England. Sometimes it's what would have happened had I not left Louisiana.
What would have happened had I not left Louisiana?
I came across an LSMSA alum's blog and one of the entries was
"That school ruined my relationship with my daughter"
Can't tell you how many times I've heard that in my head before. Leaving home is interesting - we talked about that in literature the other day. I feel as if I've spent the last ten years of my life trying to make a home outside of my parents' house and in doing so, I am essentially homeless. My parents now live in a swanky suburb (if those two can coexist) with their off-white kid-free household and they own a Dachsund. It's not the old house, the house I grew up in, with the pretty white colums and the fireplace in front of which many embarassing photos were made, usually involving big hair, and the back yard with the swing and the little patch of concrete with frog prints in it, and the hedges that never grew together in one spot because my friends and I walked through them every day to each other's houses. My mom is getting her CPA soon and I think my dad will retire, at which point they will leave house-not-home number 2 and probably move to Seattle. And then my dad will have tons of fodder for making fun of granola-eating liberals and their touchy-feely birkenstock-like ways. The brother will go to college somewhere, remain cooler than all of us, and he will probably stay in Louisiana for the rest of his life. He's a homebody like that.
What would have happened had I not left Louisiana. Probably would have gone to LSU, learned to speak Spanish instead of French, moved in with Casey, double majored in music and literature, gone to Spain for a semester, finished up at LSU and become a nail stylist.
Okay, not entirely plausible, but these are the things that run through my head late at night. How many Robert Frost moments does one have - what if I hadn't taken the road less traveled and had stayed close to home with my mother and my family and people who have the same accent that I do?
Going to try to sleep. Can't get Goethe out of my head.
Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht?
Kennst du es wohl? Dahin! dahin
Möcht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.
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