So I've made a sort of decision about my life. It's only a sort of decision because at this point I don't know how the rest of the semester is going to go and I'm not sure how I'm going to feel when I get back to the States. All I know is that my future is no longer as certain as it use to be, something that pains me a great deal. My life made a huge turn around once I decided what I wanted in my future and now that, that has changed it makes everything I've been working towards seem kind of pointless. Anyway, here's the sort of decision I've made: I'm not going to try and get a job in London immediately after graduation. I'm not even entirely sure I want to work in radio anymore, but I don't really have any alternatives either. It's not as if there's a lot you can do with a music degree. I could go into teaching, but I don't really consider that an option since I'd probably hate working in public schools and hate working with private school snobs (unless I could work at Stuart Hall, but that would be weird and mean living in Staunton.) All I can say with some certainty is that I don't want to live in London until I know exactly what I want. I don't think I could go through an identity crisis so far away from everything I've ever known. I'm having a hard enough time as it is, but the thought of having to make a whole new set of friends, deal with an entirely different set of social mores all while freaking out about whether I actually want to be in the field I've chosen seems like a one way ticket to disaster.
The other thing I feel confident in is that I've lost the sense of what makes me, me. For all my bitching and moaning about nobody knowing what I'm talking about, I identify as the misfit outsider. I thought it would be so great being in a country where everyone knew and liked the things I know and like, but thus far it hasn't been so great. I think the biggest problem is that despite the plethora of common interests, I haven't really met anyone like me. It would seem, and this is based on both my experience in the States and here, that you can't be a sci-fi/fantasy geek who's really into music and obsessed with history at a certain age. You have to either be a geek/nerd or cool kid. You can't be both at my age for some reason, at least in the UK. It's incredibly frustrating and demoralizing, especially when you consider how high school it is. In the end though I would rather be in a country where nobody knows what I'm talking about and being accepted for all the facets of my personality than in a country where you get shoved into one category and that's it until you're in your 30's (at which point you can be all the things you actually are.)
This past summer, my therapist at the time said I should visit London before making a final decision on if I wanted to live there for the rest of my life. I told her that's why I was so determined to study abroad in London. I'm glad I've done this, if only because now I know how completely unsure I am of living in this city. It's sad, but I guess I've been building this place up for so long it's not surprising that it's disappointed me. I just wish it hadn't.
27.3.10
Cardiff and Liverpool pt. 2
After registering for classes I went to Grand Central, supposedly a very cool place to shop, but I was thoroughly unimpressed. I walked on the main drag for a I don't know ho long, wandered through an avant garde art gallery called Blue Coat and got dinner for the first and second night as well as some milk at Marks and Spencers. I spent the rest of the night either eating or watching the telly which made the night incredibly enjoyable for me (because at this point my expectations were just that low.) During the second day I actually did quite a lot and got lost which was less fun than the rest of the day. I got up around 8:40am of my own volition, had breakfast and headed out. I went to Albert Dock, got a bit confused as to how to get to the Beatles exhibition, but finally figured it out after staring at a map for a while. I was a really good exhibition, but since I already know so much about the Beatles, what I enjoyed about the exhibition were the interviews with various characters from the band's history like Sir George Martin and Brian Epstein. I got little gifts for the family in the gift shop (which they always make you exit through), spent a lot of time in another Liverpool-based gift shop before heading to the tourist information point to get a ticket for a Beatles tour called "The Magical Mystery Tour." I had lunch at the Tate Liverpool's cafe, strolled through their main exhibit (and got nicely yelled at for taking a picture of Duchamp's "Fountain"). My favourite part of the museum (besides seeing Dali's lobster telephone), was an exhibit on sculpture and the depiction of the human form which incorporated a pre-selected soundtrack. Not only were the sculptures very interesting, but the use of music made the whole thing more memorable. I got Sophie a gift and a couple of postcards at the shop. I then wasted time wandering around Albert Dock and got starred at by a gaggle of idiotic boys while having a cuppa. Then it was time for the tour. What I enjoyed most about the tour was that it added little personal touches to the history I already know. Also the tour guide was very amusing and has met Paul McCartney several times. I bought more Beatles memorabilia, got lost trying to go back to the hostel, but finally made my way there. I spent another night watching telly and packed my things to get ready to leave for London the next morning.
The trip back was thoroughly uneventful and I've mostly unpacked everything from my move to the new room. My Mum arrives tomorrow, which I'm really excited about. Finally, I got my marks for music radio and I got a B for the class. Hurrah me. Until next time, don't panic.
The trip back was thoroughly uneventful and I've mostly unpacked everything from my move to the new room. My Mum arrives tomorrow, which I'm really excited about. Finally, I got my marks for music radio and I got a B for the class. Hurrah me. Until next time, don't panic.
Cardiff and Liverpool pt. 1
:sigh: I'm back from Cardiff and Liverpool. Have been for over 24 hours. It's almost daunting the amount I have to say about my adventures in the south west/north west. Thankfully, I brought a notebook with me so I can quickly summarize my deep thoughts and numerous adventures. Some of what will be relayed are exact quotations from what I wrote while I was in Cardiff and Liverpool while some will be summaries. I won't differentiate between the two, but I just wanted to say that. So let's start at the beginning.
Things started out smoothly enough. I got on the right train and made it to Cardiff Central with no issue. Getting to the Queen Street station and then the hostel were far trickier. Eventually though I made my way to the hostel, slightly damp and very tired. However it was only 2:30, so after a bit of a nap, I wandered around Cardiff central (as my guidebook describes it) and figured out why people make fun of Wales all the time. The weather is crap and it's not exactly the most exciting city known to man. However, it has its good qualities (I'm sure) I just happened to be there when they weren't showing. But that was the first day. The second day was slightly better.
The second day was very eventful for me. I got up ridiculously early (after getting up ridiculously early the day before and would be doing again the next day) so I could get breakfast before the kitchen closed. I then spent some time reading about Eleanor of Aquitaine and listening to the Chris Moyles show which I find extremely comforting and irritating at the same time. I then proceeded by foot and bus to Cardiff Bay. Of course the weather was only partially on my side but the rain held off until I got back to Queen Street. First the Bay. I got a good picture of the Millenium Centre and the fountain (aka the entrance to Torchwood before heading to the Doctor Who exhibition. The exhibition was stuffed with costumes and props from the past four series and specials. I took lots of pictures of Daleks, Cybermen, K-9, and lots of other thing as well as getting some very cute figurines of all of my favourite New Who baddies. I then whiled away an hour or so by taking some pictures around the bay and having two cups of mint tea before getting lunch at a great French restaurant. After lunch I whiled away some more time, got a history of Wales and a book mark before hopping a bus back to the city centre. From there I proceeded down Queen Street to Cardiff Castle where it started to rain in earnest. Nonetheless, I climbed to the top of the keep, went through the house and got another stuffed animal as well as two more postcards. Then after a stop and Marks and Spencers, I went back to the hostel and relaxed by checking my email and reading about Eleanor some more.
The journey from Cardiff to Liverpool was much more confusing than from London to Cardiff. I got to Central station just fine, but getting to my first change in Crewe proved very tricky. I ended up waiting a half hour in Newport. My head, which had been killing me since the beginning of the week, continued to pain me. Finally I got on a train to Crewe and then a train to Liverpool Lime Street, all the while worrying about whether I was going to get to a computer in time to register for classes. Once I got to Liverpool I found it was much easier to get to my hostel than it had been in Cardiff and I registered for classes. I got all of them and in the next entry I'll tell you about Liverpool.
Things started out smoothly enough. I got on the right train and made it to Cardiff Central with no issue. Getting to the Queen Street station and then the hostel were far trickier. Eventually though I made my way to the hostel, slightly damp and very tired. However it was only 2:30, so after a bit of a nap, I wandered around Cardiff central (as my guidebook describes it) and figured out why people make fun of Wales all the time. The weather is crap and it's not exactly the most exciting city known to man. However, it has its good qualities (I'm sure) I just happened to be there when they weren't showing. But that was the first day. The second day was slightly better.
The second day was very eventful for me. I got up ridiculously early (after getting up ridiculously early the day before and would be doing again the next day) so I could get breakfast before the kitchen closed. I then spent some time reading about Eleanor of Aquitaine and listening to the Chris Moyles show which I find extremely comforting and irritating at the same time. I then proceeded by foot and bus to Cardiff Bay. Of course the weather was only partially on my side but the rain held off until I got back to Queen Street. First the Bay. I got a good picture of the Millenium Centre and the fountain (aka the entrance to Torchwood before heading to the Doctor Who exhibition. The exhibition was stuffed with costumes and props from the past four series and specials. I took lots of pictures of Daleks, Cybermen, K-9, and lots of other thing as well as getting some very cute figurines of all of my favourite New Who baddies. I then whiled away an hour or so by taking some pictures around the bay and having two cups of mint tea before getting lunch at a great French restaurant. After lunch I whiled away some more time, got a history of Wales and a book mark before hopping a bus back to the city centre. From there I proceeded down Queen Street to Cardiff Castle where it started to rain in earnest. Nonetheless, I climbed to the top of the keep, went through the house and got another stuffed animal as well as two more postcards. Then after a stop and Marks and Spencers, I went back to the hostel and relaxed by checking my email and reading about Eleanor some more.
The journey from Cardiff to Liverpool was much more confusing than from London to Cardiff. I got to Central station just fine, but getting to my first change in Crewe proved very tricky. I ended up waiting a half hour in Newport. My head, which had been killing me since the beginning of the week, continued to pain me. Finally I got on a train to Crewe and then a train to Liverpool Lime Street, all the while worrying about whether I was going to get to a computer in time to register for classes. Once I got to Liverpool I found it was much easier to get to my hostel than it had been in Cardiff and I registered for classes. I got all of them and in the next entry I'll tell you about Liverpool.
19.3.10
Muchness
I was originally going to write about The 39 Steps and Alice in Wonderland, both of which I enjoyed in very different ways, but I haven't the heart. Starting Thursday night my living situation kind of exploded in my face and next week I'm going to be moving into a new flat. On Monday I head off on my first excursion outside of London and am really nervous about the whole thing. I've discovered that any amount of stress makes me really homesick, so right now I'd like nothing better than to take a flight home and not come back to London until I've graduated from college. Of course that's not really an option, at least not right now. I will say this though: I love this city and I think if my time here had started out differently and if I'd had at least one person from home with me, I wouldn't be quite so miserable right now. But I can't change the past, so here's the future.
I will say this about The 39 Steps: If you ever get a chance to see it, do it. It's one of the most brilliant plays I've ever seen and is now officially my second favourite play after The Importance of Being Earnest. As for Alice in Wonderland only see it if you can see it on a big screen and in 3-D. Otherwise, I don't think it would really be worth it.
There probably won't be any updates until I get back from Liverpool at the end of the week. I'll be registering for classes for the fall while I'm in Liverpool, but I'd prefer to not have to bring my computer with me, but even if I do, I probably won't update anyway. Until then, don't panic (I'll try not to.)
I will say this about The 39 Steps: If you ever get a chance to see it, do it. It's one of the most brilliant plays I've ever seen and is now officially my second favourite play after The Importance of Being Earnest. As for Alice in Wonderland only see it if you can see it on a big screen and in 3-D. Otherwise, I don't think it would really be worth it.
There probably won't be any updates until I get back from Liverpool at the end of the week. I'll be registering for classes for the fall while I'm in Liverpool, but I'd prefer to not have to bring my computer with me, but even if I do, I probably won't update anyway. Until then, don't panic (I'll try not to.)
17.3.10
20 Bucks?!
I'm currently in the early stages of a cold which means that in addition to my usual apathy towards doing anything besides reading and listening to/watching QI, I feel like crap and can't really swallow (damn you sore throat of death!). However I have some news and really want to talk about the opera I went to last night, so I'm going to beat back my desire to read trivia articles and write. Hopefully this will make writing the paper I have due tomorrow easier.
Let's start with the opera (The Elixir of Love in case you're wondering). I had read somewhere on the English National Opera website that all operas are performed in English, but it didn't really sink in until a nattily dressed gentleman made the following announcement before the start of the performance: The original Nemorino was sick and his understudy was "unavailable." I want to know how the understudy could possibly be "unavailable" but we'll move beyond that to the next part of the announcement. Because of the illness/unavailability of the two people who know the English translation of the opera, the company pulled in a tenor who knew the original Italian libretto. So everyone else (save for a wonderful performance by Andrew Shore) was singing only in English. The tenor (who's name I didn't hear and therefore don't know) would be singing only in Italian (except for when he said "20 bucks?" which was amusing.) Needless to say, it was very interesting.
The Elixir of Love, as performed by the ENO, is set in a middle-of-nowhere 1950's American town, primarily at Adina's Diner. While I appreciate the idea of updating operas and can even understand the idea of translating original libretti to English, every once in awhile they'd use cutesy Americana slang and I would just be irked. However the performances, especially Andrew Shore who'll I get to in a minute, were top notch and the staging was such that, even from the balcony you could always make out what was going on, on stage. Other perks of the staging included a rotating room so that action could happen both inside and outside the diner with minimal fuss and a real car that was quite shiny.
The best performance, or at least the best performance given the circumstances, was that of Andrew Shore, a baritone who performed the part of Dr. Dulcamara. Shore had performed the role in another ENO performance of The Elixir of Love and deftly moved between English (when everyone else was singing in English, when he was soloing or when his part was meant to be contrast to Nemorino) and Italian (when he was conversing only with Nemorino). It was a well played choice by Shore and pulled off very well and with little confusion thanks in part to the subtitles showed above the stage. It also helped to cement the idea that Nemorino is outside the main players, both in intelligence and in culture, something that's made clear in the way the character is written anyway. That and Shore had the best "American" singing accent, something that I appreciated greatly.
In other news, despite this damnable cold, I'm going to see The 39 Steps tomorrow and I have housing (which is more important really.) After much drama (something seems part in parcel with anything to do with UMW bureaucracy) we (me, Stephanie, and newcomer Kelley) got our first choice apartment. I get my own room which means I'll have somewhere to put all the postcards I'm collecting. Happy St. Patrick's day and hopefully I'll update at least one more time before I leave for Cardiff. Finally, Spaced inspired flash mob this Saturday, expect photos either on Sunday or after the break. Until then, don't panic.
Let's start with the opera (The Elixir of Love in case you're wondering). I had read somewhere on the English National Opera website that all operas are performed in English, but it didn't really sink in until a nattily dressed gentleman made the following announcement before the start of the performance: The original Nemorino was sick and his understudy was "unavailable." I want to know how the understudy could possibly be "unavailable" but we'll move beyond that to the next part of the announcement. Because of the illness/unavailability of the two people who know the English translation of the opera, the company pulled in a tenor who knew the original Italian libretto. So everyone else (save for a wonderful performance by Andrew Shore) was singing only in English. The tenor (who's name I didn't hear and therefore don't know) would be singing only in Italian (except for when he said "20 bucks?" which was amusing.) Needless to say, it was very interesting.
The Elixir of Love, as performed by the ENO, is set in a middle-of-nowhere 1950's American town, primarily at Adina's Diner. While I appreciate the idea of updating operas and can even understand the idea of translating original libretti to English, every once in awhile they'd use cutesy Americana slang and I would just be irked. However the performances, especially Andrew Shore who'll I get to in a minute, were top notch and the staging was such that, even from the balcony you could always make out what was going on, on stage. Other perks of the staging included a rotating room so that action could happen both inside and outside the diner with minimal fuss and a real car that was quite shiny.
The best performance, or at least the best performance given the circumstances, was that of Andrew Shore, a baritone who performed the part of Dr. Dulcamara. Shore had performed the role in another ENO performance of The Elixir of Love and deftly moved between English (when everyone else was singing in English, when he was soloing or when his part was meant to be contrast to Nemorino) and Italian (when he was conversing only with Nemorino). It was a well played choice by Shore and pulled off very well and with little confusion thanks in part to the subtitles showed above the stage. It also helped to cement the idea that Nemorino is outside the main players, both in intelligence and in culture, something that's made clear in the way the character is written anyway. That and Shore had the best "American" singing accent, something that I appreciated greatly.
In other news, despite this damnable cold, I'm going to see The 39 Steps tomorrow and I have housing (which is more important really.) After much drama (something seems part in parcel with anything to do with UMW bureaucracy) we (me, Stephanie, and newcomer Kelley) got our first choice apartment. I get my own room which means I'll have somewhere to put all the postcards I'm collecting. Happy St. Patrick's day and hopefully I'll update at least one more time before I leave for Cardiff. Finally, Spaced inspired flash mob this Saturday, expect photos either on Sunday or after the break. Until then, don't panic.
14.3.10
Weekly Round Up
Ummm...
Quick explanation: My hormones hate me (seriously, they hate me) and since landing in London, in the week before my lady time (0_0) I basically become a depressed vegetable. It sucks, I know it's happening (which makes it worse quite frankly) and there's nought I can do about it. That's why my music marketing paper still needs to be written. So that's what happened this week. I became a depressed vegetable.
This week was very busy though. On Monday I cleaned my room, but didn't dust which was a bad idea. I should have dusted. Tuesday I finished most of my critical report and went to see Billy Elliot which I'll talk about more later. On Wednesday I woke up really early for my Art and Society class, saw a bust made out of blood and had a "movie" night with Amanda where we watched the first four episodes of The Mighty Boosh. For some reason I've been convinced for the last week that Old Gregg was introduced in the first series, but I was wrong, he came in the second. On Thursday I went to the 8th annual Douglas Adams Memorial Lecture where the topic was the number 42 and its relation to prime numbers. I didn't really understand 42's connection to prime numbers, there was something about harmonics and logarithms, but most of the last 1/4 of the lecture went right over my head. However Prof. Marcus du Sautoy was very interesting to listen to and Clive Anderson was the MC, so it wasn't a complete bust. Had a crappy night on Thursday, but Friday was fun despite the sleep deprivation. The highlight of the day was avant garde accordion music. As with Billy, the accordion showcase will be discussed in further detail after the round up. On Saturday I had my first UK PEO meeting and met a lot of nice older women and then went to Camden for their markets. I got a leather jacket (second hand), a t-shirt with a big strawberry on it, and a bag that says "Leave me alone! I don't like broccoli!" which is exactly my sentiment. This morning I had a weird realization that the UK hasn't entered daylight savings time yet and that I don't need to change my clocks. Before I go into my cultural review I will just say this: The War of Roses still doesn't make sense to me, the Tudor to Stuart transition makes some sense, and the Stuart to Hanoverian transition was just really stupid. Also, the Hanover's are the same as the Windsor's, just slightly less German. And Facebook needs to stop showing me ads about Mika, it just makes me sad that I didn't get to see him when I could have. Which is why I obsessively pour over Time Out on a daily basis now.
Billy Elliot
I saw the movie when it first came out on DVD and while I thoroughly enjoyed the dancing and the emotional stuff, the whole miners striking bits confused me. I tend to become bored with history after the Enlightenment and so anything from the 80's, in a foreign country is bound to be...foreign to me. Also, I'm not really enthusiastic about movies becoming Broadway musicals. Or books becoming Broadway musicals. I love "Good Morning Baltimore", but I don't necessarily want to see Hairspray. So when I went to see Billy Elliot with the social programme, I was ambivalent. I came away mildly impressed and desperate to see a real ballet (which I'll be doing in April.)
If you've seen the movie, you know what the plot is. Add in some music and a general confusion over where the act is ending and you've got the play. The young man/boy who played the part of Billy was a very good gymnast and an okay dancer, which considering how he's suppose to grow up to be this great dancer is kind of squiffy, but he was impressive nonetheless. The forced Northern accent bothered me at times, but the musical was good enough to allow me to ignore that fact. While I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to my friends, I was glad I went to see it.
Accordion Showcase
When I think of accordions I automatically think of polka music. I don't think of contemporary musical compositions written specifically for the accordion or studying the accordion at conservatory. All of these assumptions were dashed on Friday at the accordion showcase at the Royal Academy of Music. Accordion players do not just perform polkas and some of them compose really out there pieces for accordion. They also make the strangest faces known to the performing world. They make the faces other performers wish they could make.
But besides faces, the music was really interesting and very well performed. I'm not a huge fan of 20th century music, but I appreciate it more than I did a year ago (thanks music theory V!). The performers were all excellent and if you ever get the chance to go to London, be sure to check out RAM for an accordion showcase, it will be worth the cost it takes to travel on the Tube (it was a free performance.)
So that's the week. This week I'm going to see The Elixir of Love at the London Coliseum on Tuesday and The 39 Steps at the Criterion Theatre on Thursday and on Friday afternoon I'm going to Alice in Wonderland at the BFI Imax and then going to buy my weight in books, because I really need more books (not really.) Then it's Spring break and I'm off to Cardiff. I might update during that first and second week of spring break, because I have to bring my computer with me to Cardiff and Liverpool, but less likely during the third week when I'm in Glasgow and Leeds. Fun times are a-comin' my friends, so prepare yourselves. Until next time, don't panic.
Quick explanation: My hormones hate me (seriously, they hate me) and since landing in London, in the week before my lady time (0_0) I basically become a depressed vegetable. It sucks, I know it's happening (which makes it worse quite frankly) and there's nought I can do about it. That's why my music marketing paper still needs to be written. So that's what happened this week. I became a depressed vegetable.
This week was very busy though. On Monday I cleaned my room, but didn't dust which was a bad idea. I should have dusted. Tuesday I finished most of my critical report and went to see Billy Elliot which I'll talk about more later. On Wednesday I woke up really early for my Art and Society class, saw a bust made out of blood and had a "movie" night with Amanda where we watched the first four episodes of The Mighty Boosh. For some reason I've been convinced for the last week that Old Gregg was introduced in the first series, but I was wrong, he came in the second. On Thursday I went to the 8th annual Douglas Adams Memorial Lecture where the topic was the number 42 and its relation to prime numbers. I didn't really understand 42's connection to prime numbers, there was something about harmonics and logarithms, but most of the last 1/4 of the lecture went right over my head. However Prof. Marcus du Sautoy was very interesting to listen to and Clive Anderson was the MC, so it wasn't a complete bust. Had a crappy night on Thursday, but Friday was fun despite the sleep deprivation. The highlight of the day was avant garde accordion music. As with Billy, the accordion showcase will be discussed in further detail after the round up. On Saturday I had my first UK PEO meeting and met a lot of nice older women and then went to Camden for their markets. I got a leather jacket (second hand), a t-shirt with a big strawberry on it, and a bag that says "Leave me alone! I don't like broccoli!" which is exactly my sentiment. This morning I had a weird realization that the UK hasn't entered daylight savings time yet and that I don't need to change my clocks. Before I go into my cultural review I will just say this: The War of Roses still doesn't make sense to me, the Tudor to Stuart transition makes some sense, and the Stuart to Hanoverian transition was just really stupid. Also, the Hanover's are the same as the Windsor's, just slightly less German. And Facebook needs to stop showing me ads about Mika, it just makes me sad that I didn't get to see him when I could have. Which is why I obsessively pour over Time Out on a daily basis now.
Billy Elliot
I saw the movie when it first came out on DVD and while I thoroughly enjoyed the dancing and the emotional stuff, the whole miners striking bits confused me. I tend to become bored with history after the Enlightenment and so anything from the 80's, in a foreign country is bound to be...foreign to me. Also, I'm not really enthusiastic about movies becoming Broadway musicals. Or books becoming Broadway musicals. I love "Good Morning Baltimore", but I don't necessarily want to see Hairspray. So when I went to see Billy Elliot with the social programme, I was ambivalent. I came away mildly impressed and desperate to see a real ballet (which I'll be doing in April.)
If you've seen the movie, you know what the plot is. Add in some music and a general confusion over where the act is ending and you've got the play. The young man/boy who played the part of Billy was a very good gymnast and an okay dancer, which considering how he's suppose to grow up to be this great dancer is kind of squiffy, but he was impressive nonetheless. The forced Northern accent bothered me at times, but the musical was good enough to allow me to ignore that fact. While I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to my friends, I was glad I went to see it.
Accordion Showcase
When I think of accordions I automatically think of polka music. I don't think of contemporary musical compositions written specifically for the accordion or studying the accordion at conservatory. All of these assumptions were dashed on Friday at the accordion showcase at the Royal Academy of Music. Accordion players do not just perform polkas and some of them compose really out there pieces for accordion. They also make the strangest faces known to the performing world. They make the faces other performers wish they could make.
But besides faces, the music was really interesting and very well performed. I'm not a huge fan of 20th century music, but I appreciate it more than I did a year ago (thanks music theory V!). The performers were all excellent and if you ever get the chance to go to London, be sure to check out RAM for an accordion showcase, it will be worth the cost it takes to travel on the Tube (it was a free performance.)
So that's the week. This week I'm going to see The Elixir of Love at the London Coliseum on Tuesday and The 39 Steps at the Criterion Theatre on Thursday and on Friday afternoon I'm going to Alice in Wonderland at the BFI Imax and then going to buy my weight in books, because I really need more books (not really.) Then it's Spring break and I'm off to Cardiff. I might update during that first and second week of spring break, because I have to bring my computer with me to Cardiff and Liverpool, but less likely during the third week when I'm in Glasgow and Leeds. Fun times are a-comin' my friends, so prepare yourselves. Until next time, don't panic.
8.3.10
The O2 Is Massive (My First Gig in London)
I realized at some point last night that I didn't bring my gig playlist notebook with me to London. This seems like a huge error in hindsight because not only did I see Lily Allen last night but I'm not going to see Miike Snow in May and so having that notebook would be really good. Oh well, I can just ask Mum to bring it with her.
Lily Allen at the O2 Arena
I have lots of notes from the first half of the show and maybe I'll get around to writing them up, but for now just think about this: Dizzee Rascal doing a rap to the guitar line from Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." It's much more wonderful than you might think.
Lily Allen at the O2 Arena
- Everyone's At It
- LDN
- Back to the Start
- 22
- Littlest Thing
- Smile
- Colloboration with Professor Green (possibly "Be Good to Me") At this point a fight errupted in the standing area near where Lily's dad and boyfriend were standing (which brings up it's own questions) and Lily walked off out of disgust. She came back on though and performed...
- Who'd Have Known (dedicated to her bf)
- I Could Say
- Brief instrumental interlude
- The Fear
- Womanizer
- Fuck You (dedicated to David Cameron)
- Not Fair (which went on forever and ever and ever and ever...)
I have lots of notes from the first half of the show and maybe I'll get around to writing them up, but for now just think about this: Dizzee Rascal doing a rap to the guitar line from Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit." It's much more wonderful than you might think.
5.3.10
Culture in Three Acts
Before I even start today's entry I would like to make the following caveat: While I might posses large amount of natural musical talent, I don't really put a lot of effort into my clarinet studies. I mostly just coast on my God given talent. Therefore any criticism I make is followed by a firm understanding that the people I'm critisisng are much, much better than I am, by dint of being at conservatory and devoting their lives to music. I'm just picky.
Act I - Comedy
I had heard about the Comedy Store because of my Twitter feed (a normal source of information for me honestly.) Since I have Thursdays and Fridays free for the rest of the semester I decided I would go see Greg "The Giant" Davies* at the Comedy Store and have a bit of a laugh. However I somehow ended up buying two tickets, so even though this trip was originally suppose to be solo, I invited Amanda to come along.
The night started off well, namely because the bartender discounted my drink and called me pretty, though I could barely hear him. The comedians themselves though were absolutely hilarious for the most part. There were two acts with three comedians each. Two of the slots were given over to newbies, the first of which wasn't at all funny. The second one however did a poem/rap involving a llama and Obama and was generally very funny. The professional comedians were even funnier. Greg Davies talked in between comedians and one of the most memorable moments involved him giving fallatio to a giant owl/human hybrid. I was dying. Other memorable moments including Pierre the ski instructor ("We look up and say hello. Am I gay, straigh, bi, I don't know! Follow me!"), haggling with the person who's sticking you up (from 6 quid, to 3 quid, to 1 quid), and remembering that the customer might be carrying a gun (oh Reginald D. Hunter, you are one fraking hilarious man). I hope to go there again sometime in the future, if only so I can once again need to message my jaw from laughing so long.
Act II - Music
One of the things Reginald D. Hunter mentioned in his act was that the British don't really like people. As Amanda pointed out afterwards, it's not that they're unfriendly, it's just that the British aren't particularly friendly. On individual basis, yes some of them are very friendly. However when it comes to non-tourists attractions and restaurants/cafes, customer service doesn't really exist in the way Americans think. This concept was brought to the fore last night when I was dealing with the people at the Royal Academy of Music. Duke's Hall opens a half hour before the performance starts. I didn't know this and the person at reception didn't feel the need to tell me. I felt like a burke for a good half hour before I could get in. Which leads me to my helpful hint for travelling in London: Either know what you're doing or be able to pull off pretending that you know what you're doing.
The performance itself was somewhat mixed. The band itself was excellent and I really enjoyed their performance of Darius Milhaud's "Suite Francais" and Charles-Francois Gounod's "Petite Symphonie for wind instruments." However two quintet's also performed and while all the players were subperb, I had issues with both clarinettists. They made a "fff" sound while playing, something that my clarinet teacher and Prof. Bartrum would have a huge hissy fit over. In my mind making a "fff" sound means there's something wrong with your embouchure. The fact that these semi-professional performers were making that sound while playing distracted me to no end. But as my caveat mentioned, I'm just picky. The two women who performed were technically amazing and I'd never be able to do what they did. But the fuffing really bothered me.
Act III - Art, Fashion, and Literature
One of the things that I love about London is how close so many things are to each other. You can get from Leicester Square to Picadilly Circus to Oxford Circus within about a 20 minute walk. From Leicester Square you can get to Covent Garden and then over Holborn in the same amount of time, from which point you can get set out for the British Museum which I would guess is a ten minute walk. Oxford Circus gets to you to Bond Street going one way (west) and Regent's Park another way (north). All the major tourist attractions are within a half hour of each other walking. It's brilliant. So this afternoon I went from Holborn (Sir John Soane's Museum) to Covent Garden (the continual feeling of inadequacy) and then over to Marylebone High Street/Baker Street (Daunt Books of awesome.) I covered all of this in about an hour, not including the time spent at various locales along the way. So let's talk about the things I did in between walking.
Sir John Soane's Museum is insane. It's filled with artifacts of man obsessed with collecting things and making plaster molds of those things he couldn't get the originals of. I actually got confused going around the house, it was so cluttered and narrow. Best museum I've been to though, in part because it was so fascinating to look at and also because the audio tour I downloaded was narrated by Elenor Bron, whom I will always love because of Help!.
After my tour I went over to Covent Garden/Soho/Seven Dials area (and they are that close, I kid you not) to make myself feel inadequate. I don't know what it is about hipsters, but they make me feel less than I am, which is stupid because the last thing I want to be is a hipster. Nonetheless, going to that particular area makes me feel a little sad. However it's always fun to look in the shops and see the ridiculous things they're selling.
After my brief foray** with sadness I hoped on the Tube because I decided it would be too long to walk from Covent Garden to Baker Street (a decision that I stand by, even if I could have walked there.) My mission: by guide books for the spring break destinations. So I went to the Marylebone High Street and Daunt Books, which is amazing. With the number of non-fiction and history books they had I could have spent hours there, just looking. I walked away with two British history books and guide books for three of my four destinations (damn you Leeds) and really nice bag that I wasn't expecting to get. While I had set out to get a leather jacket, I think ending up with six books, one card and two postcards (from the museum) was a much better outcome.
That's all my culture for now. Tomorrow I go and see Lily Allen (!!!!!) at the O2 Arena and then next week I'm seeing Billy Elliot: The Musical and an accordion showcase at RAM (with knowledge I didn't have before.) I might add something on Friday and Saturday, but it depends on what Time Out London says is going on and whether I really want to see Alice in Wonderland. Until then, don't panic.
*I've given him that nickname, it's not his actual nickname, but he's 6'8", so it's a very apt nickname.
**I originally spelled this word faure, like the composer. This makes me sad.
Act I - Comedy
I had heard about the Comedy Store because of my Twitter feed (a normal source of information for me honestly.) Since I have Thursdays and Fridays free for the rest of the semester I decided I would go see Greg "The Giant" Davies* at the Comedy Store and have a bit of a laugh. However I somehow ended up buying two tickets, so even though this trip was originally suppose to be solo, I invited Amanda to come along.
The night started off well, namely because the bartender discounted my drink and called me pretty, though I could barely hear him. The comedians themselves though were absolutely hilarious for the most part. There were two acts with three comedians each. Two of the slots were given over to newbies, the first of which wasn't at all funny. The second one however did a poem/rap involving a llama and Obama and was generally very funny. The professional comedians were even funnier. Greg Davies talked in between comedians and one of the most memorable moments involved him giving fallatio to a giant owl/human hybrid. I was dying. Other memorable moments including Pierre the ski instructor ("We look up and say hello. Am I gay, straigh, bi, I don't know! Follow me!"), haggling with the person who's sticking you up (from 6 quid, to 3 quid, to 1 quid), and remembering that the customer might be carrying a gun (oh Reginald D. Hunter, you are one fraking hilarious man). I hope to go there again sometime in the future, if only so I can once again need to message my jaw from laughing so long.
Act II - Music
One of the things Reginald D. Hunter mentioned in his act was that the British don't really like people. As Amanda pointed out afterwards, it's not that they're unfriendly, it's just that the British aren't particularly friendly. On individual basis, yes some of them are very friendly. However when it comes to non-tourists attractions and restaurants/cafes, customer service doesn't really exist in the way Americans think. This concept was brought to the fore last night when I was dealing with the people at the Royal Academy of Music. Duke's Hall opens a half hour before the performance starts. I didn't know this and the person at reception didn't feel the need to tell me. I felt like a burke for a good half hour before I could get in. Which leads me to my helpful hint for travelling in London: Either know what you're doing or be able to pull off pretending that you know what you're doing.
The performance itself was somewhat mixed. The band itself was excellent and I really enjoyed their performance of Darius Milhaud's "Suite Francais" and Charles-Francois Gounod's "Petite Symphonie for wind instruments." However two quintet's also performed and while all the players were subperb, I had issues with both clarinettists. They made a "fff" sound while playing, something that my clarinet teacher and Prof. Bartrum would have a huge hissy fit over. In my mind making a "fff" sound means there's something wrong with your embouchure. The fact that these semi-professional performers were making that sound while playing distracted me to no end. But as my caveat mentioned, I'm just picky. The two women who performed were technically amazing and I'd never be able to do what they did. But the fuffing really bothered me.
Act III - Art, Fashion, and Literature
One of the things that I love about London is how close so many things are to each other. You can get from Leicester Square to Picadilly Circus to Oxford Circus within about a 20 minute walk. From Leicester Square you can get to Covent Garden and then over Holborn in the same amount of time, from which point you can get set out for the British Museum which I would guess is a ten minute walk. Oxford Circus gets to you to Bond Street going one way (west) and Regent's Park another way (north). All the major tourist attractions are within a half hour of each other walking. It's brilliant. So this afternoon I went from Holborn (Sir John Soane's Museum) to Covent Garden (the continual feeling of inadequacy) and then over to Marylebone High Street/Baker Street (Daunt Books of awesome.) I covered all of this in about an hour, not including the time spent at various locales along the way. So let's talk about the things I did in between walking.
Sir John Soane's Museum is insane. It's filled with artifacts of man obsessed with collecting things and making plaster molds of those things he couldn't get the originals of. I actually got confused going around the house, it was so cluttered and narrow. Best museum I've been to though, in part because it was so fascinating to look at and also because the audio tour I downloaded was narrated by Elenor Bron, whom I will always love because of Help!.
After my tour I went over to Covent Garden/Soho/Seven Dials area (and they are that close, I kid you not) to make myself feel inadequate. I don't know what it is about hipsters, but they make me feel less than I am, which is stupid because the last thing I want to be is a hipster. Nonetheless, going to that particular area makes me feel a little sad. However it's always fun to look in the shops and see the ridiculous things they're selling.
After my brief foray** with sadness I hoped on the Tube because I decided it would be too long to walk from Covent Garden to Baker Street (a decision that I stand by, even if I could have walked there.) My mission: by guide books for the spring break destinations. So I went to the Marylebone High Street and Daunt Books, which is amazing. With the number of non-fiction and history books they had I could have spent hours there, just looking. I walked away with two British history books and guide books for three of my four destinations (damn you Leeds) and really nice bag that I wasn't expecting to get. While I had set out to get a leather jacket, I think ending up with six books, one card and two postcards (from the museum) was a much better outcome.
That's all my culture for now. Tomorrow I go and see Lily Allen (!!!!!) at the O2 Arena and then next week I'm seeing Billy Elliot: The Musical and an accordion showcase at RAM (with knowledge I didn't have before.) I might add something on Friday and Saturday, but it depends on what Time Out London says is going on and whether I really want to see Alice in Wonderland. Until then, don't panic.
*I've given him that nickname, it's not his actual nickname, but he's 6'8", so it's a very apt nickname.
**I originally spelled this word faure, like the composer. This makes me sad.
3.3.10
Crazy Lady Rocking Back and Forth
Why won't they ever shut up? What is the point in being loud all the time? What is the point of turning up your music really loudly, so loudly that you can't hear each other speak so you have to talk really loudly? Why do they feel the need to do this every night, night after night? Do they not have classes in the morning? Do they not give a fucking shit about the classes they may or may not actually be in? Are they just at university to get away from their parents and if so, why torture every one around them? Why spend thousands and thousands of pounds just to spend your night playing music really loudly, drinking too much, and shouting at your friends? Do they not realize how shit the economy is right now? Do they not realize that frittering away their parents money is a) really disrespectful to their parents and b) makes no economic sense? Do they just not give a shit about the people in this flat? Is everyone else in the flat somewhere else or am I just overly sensitive to really fucking loud music? Are my other flatmates just simply deaf to the evil flatmates noise? How do they pass their classes when they spend all their time partying? Why do I let them make me feel so awful? I'm not the bad person, there is nothing wrong with wanting to get 8 hours of sleep on a regular basis and going to bed before 2am in the morning. Why do they feel the need to make my life hell? What have I ever done to them, other than expect them to act with a modicum of maturity? Following that point, why can't they act like adults? I know they're a few years younger than me, but honestly, why can't they act like adults? Is it so hard to take other people into consideration? Also, don't they realize that just because it says "Fire Door" that doesn't mean it's sound proof? The ability to block fire does not mean it blocks sound. Also, as music majors, shouldn't they realize how bass works? It carries. That simple, bass carries. Therefore playing the bass extraordinarily loud means that anyone (me) can hear it, no matter what you think. So, in conclusion, why the fuck won't they ever shut up?
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