It's a gift, really. Bullshitting, that is. That's my gift.
Well, I suppose not so much "bullshitting," but more so "making shit up off the top of your head that makes absolutely no sense at all....and yet, people still buy it." You see, I am actually really terrible at lying. Basically ask me a question and you will get the answer. Truth: this was not so helpful in high school when my mom would ask me about certain things....
I had two options: lie to her face and have her know that I was lying OR tell her the truth. So I always had to tell her the truth.
ANYWAY, back to tonight.
I don't know what came over me. I really can't tell you. When the guy at the bar asked what I did, I really really was about to say, "Well, I'm a student at SMU," but somehow it came out as, "I'm an interpretive dancer."
HE: "Really! You're an interpretive dancer?! I've never met one of those before!"
I: "Yeah yeah, we're not that common, really. It's a rare profession I must say."
HE: "Interesting! So like, what do you do?"
I: "Well....we dance....interpretively."
HE: "Yeah, I think I get that. But what do you mean? Like, how?"
I: "Well, we just listen to the music and try to understand what it's saying and then we move our bodies to try to describe how we are feeling in relation to what the music is saying."
HE: "Wow. That's deep."
I: "Yeah. It really is something."
HE: "So what kind of music do you dance to?"
I: "Anything, really. We try to listen to a lot of different kinds of music to try to expand our dancing abilities."
HE: "So you can dance to alternative-rock?"
I: "Sure, why not?"
HE: "Well I'm in this band that performs and we're trying to get a larger fan base than we have right now. We're looking for something that would make us stand out."
(((OH shit.)))
HE: "Do you think you and your friends would be interested in performing during one of our concerts?"
I: "Sure! Why not? We'd need some practice and exposure to the material beforehand but I think it could work out."
HE: "Cool cool. So, do you need like a certain beat to be able to perform? Do you have requirements for that sort of thing?"
I: "Not really. I mean, it is interpretive so all we really need is music and then we just go with it. It can be fast or slow; we dance to what is going on around us."
HE: "Great! So are you with a particular company?"
I: "Oh...actually, it's kind of a touchy subject. We were with the company here in Dallas but they started working for the money and all of this corporate crap and they weren't doing it for the feeling anymore. We didn't like that and we were getting into all of these arguments so we broke off from them. Yeah, it sucks sometimes not getting paid, but at least I know I'm not a sellout."
HE: "Wow, yeah that's gotta be rough."
I: "Yeah, the exposure in that company was great, but it just didn't feel right, you know? It should always be about the music, not the money right?"
HE: "You're totally right. That makes perfect sense. Good for you."
Then we talked for a little while longer about dancing and blah blah blah until my friends got sick of his friends and dragged me away. As we were walking away, I realized just exactly what I had been talking about for the last 20 minutes and about started peeing my pants.
"Haley!" they yelled, "WHAT is so FUNNY?!"
"I just told that guy about my profession as an interpretive dancer," I managed to say between grasping for air during my hysterical laughter.
They immediately stop walking, look at each other, and say, "I swear....the stuff you come up with. How do you think of this crap? And why do these people believe it?"
"I have no idea. I wish I could tell you."
To be honest, I have no intention of stopping this nonsense. It's too much fun.
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
I am a MASSIVE Nerd.
I honestly never realized it until tonight. But I'm a huge nerd. Like really, really big. Big and obnoxious.
and i love it.
Tonight I went to a "Rare Book" dinner. Sounds boring, right? Absolutely not. I was enthralled.
The person who ran it is Collin Franklin, a rare book collector. I thought the dinner was going to entail random original manuscripts of books that no one cares about. Books that are shoved away in stacks in the back of the library that you sometimes have to grudgingly look up as a part of a 15-page essay or some assignment for class. How could I be so wrong?
These were books that I have never heard of. And yet, I found myself staying past the 9:30 deadline looking at these exquisite books from the 1700-1900s. Yes, this must seem so boring to you. But you weren't there. There was this book that outlined patterns that kimonos were designed after. Yes...this book invented the designs that some of the most "in fashion" kimonos replicated. And it was the original. I can't even describe it to you.
I also saw the smallest book in the world. I repeat: THE SMALLEST BOOK IN THE WORLD. When I was forewarned about such a book, I thought it would be a cinch to read. I'm 20 years old with perfect 20/20 eyesight (or better), yet I couldn't make out one word. One single word. It was tiny. The owner told us that the guy who made it (and it was made by a teeny-tiny printing press back in the day) went blind upon completion of the book. No wonder.
My favorite book of the evening is called "Cave Birds" by Ted Hughes. Not only is it a book of poetry about one of my favorite animals, but it boasts beautiful depictions of owls, roosters, eagles and many other birds. Pictures I have never seen in my life. Original drawings. These drawings captured each bird's qualities and helped you see things you never would have noticed on your own. It also tied human characteristics with the stereotype of each bird. I could easily have spent thirty minutes on each drawing/poem. EASILY. I don't even know what to say.
Ted Hughes, the author of this book, was married to Sylvia Plath until her suicide in 1963. I read "The Bell Jar" by her a few years ago. And my, was she an amazing writer.
Which makes me wonder: how could two brilliant minds who get married and "love" each other have such problems and instability that one of them commits suicide? I mean, they were brilliant, right? I could never compose one poem, let alone volumes and volumes that they do. And yet, they were still unhappy.
Which also makes me wonder: if you have money and status and brains and a husband and children and everything that "matters" under your belt, how can you still be unhappy? What "creates" happiness?
Even though Plath only became really famous after her death, familiarity doesn't create happiness. So what does?
A single from an Oxford band.
No, I'm not on drugs.
and i love it.
Tonight I went to a "Rare Book" dinner. Sounds boring, right? Absolutely not. I was enthralled.
The person who ran it is Collin Franklin, a rare book collector. I thought the dinner was going to entail random original manuscripts of books that no one cares about. Books that are shoved away in stacks in the back of the library that you sometimes have to grudgingly look up as a part of a 15-page essay or some assignment for class. How could I be so wrong?
These were books that I have never heard of. And yet, I found myself staying past the 9:30 deadline looking at these exquisite books from the 1700-1900s. Yes, this must seem so boring to you. But you weren't there. There was this book that outlined patterns that kimonos were designed after. Yes...this book invented the designs that some of the most "in fashion" kimonos replicated. And it was the original. I can't even describe it to you.
I also saw the smallest book in the world. I repeat: THE SMALLEST BOOK IN THE WORLD. When I was forewarned about such a book, I thought it would be a cinch to read. I'm 20 years old with perfect 20/20 eyesight (or better), yet I couldn't make out one word. One single word. It was tiny. The owner told us that the guy who made it (and it was made by a teeny-tiny printing press back in the day) went blind upon completion of the book. No wonder.
My favorite book of the evening is called "Cave Birds" by Ted Hughes. Not only is it a book of poetry about one of my favorite animals, but it boasts beautiful depictions of owls, roosters, eagles and many other birds. Pictures I have never seen in my life. Original drawings. These drawings captured each bird's qualities and helped you see things you never would have noticed on your own. It also tied human characteristics with the stereotype of each bird. I could easily have spent thirty minutes on each drawing/poem. EASILY. I don't even know what to say.
Ted Hughes, the author of this book, was married to Sylvia Plath until her suicide in 1963. I read "The Bell Jar" by her a few years ago. And my, was she an amazing writer.
Which makes me wonder: how could two brilliant minds who get married and "love" each other have such problems and instability that one of them commits suicide? I mean, they were brilliant, right? I could never compose one poem, let alone volumes and volumes that they do. And yet, they were still unhappy.
Which also makes me wonder: if you have money and status and brains and a husband and children and everything that "matters" under your belt, how can you still be unhappy? What "creates" happiness?
Even though Plath only became really famous after her death, familiarity doesn't create happiness. So what does?
A single from an Oxford band.
No, I'm not on drugs.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History
Today I'm well behaved. And today I'm making my own history.
Today I'm making a memory. Quite possibly a memory that will be one of my favorites from this trip. More memorable than seeing The Tower of London, taking a cruise up and down the Thames River for hours, numerous pub crawls and High Table (Oxford Tradition) dinners, going to Paris, Amsterdam, Belgium, Germany, and London.
Today I'm doing nothing. I'm doing absolutely nothing and it is utterly and fabulously glorious. I'm sitting at my desk with my computer doing two of my favorite things--discovering new music and writing an English paper--looking out one window over the serene and delicate University College courtyard and through another window that peers into the lives of the street walkers. I have two different worlds combined in one room. And the opposite of it all confuses me. The street is crowded with double-decker buses, impossibly loud sirens, and people boasting different accents and languages while the courtyard is white-noise-quiet. It's so quiet that there is a natural buzz in the air that you can hear (and yet seems to not exist at the same time...). It's like someone trying to whisper something in your ear that bears no importance at all, but you pretend to hear it if only to be worthy of the secret and feel the softness of their breath on your neck. Every time I sit here, I wonder at the possibility that it can be so quiet through one window and so inexorably loud through the other. And that these two worlds are separated merely by a stone wall built hundreds of years ago.
With all of the windows and doors open, different breezes flow through our three-room abode. Scents of lavender and fresh cut grass mix with the customary fish and chips and inevitable street-smell that comes with living in a diversely-populated city.
I plan to go for a run later. And make myself look like a citizen of this historical city instead of another tourist with a camera in my hand, snapping pictures of anything and everything so that I don't forget it all.....but will.
I'll always have those pictures of me standing in front of some monument or another. And they'll always be worth about the same as when they were taken--next to nothing. Not that I don't appreciate history or being able to travel and "see the sights". Because I do. But those things aren't what makes an impression on me; they don't make me grow, change, or become a better person.
Instead, it's days like today. When I do absolutely nothing. But sit. And think. And wonder. And discover. It's when I take things slow and really allow them to naturally process through who I am and help form who I will be. And this means just sitting here and allowing all of it to happen. Being completely open to whatever thought wanders into my mind and allowing it to work itself out.
So while this isn't any exciting breaking-news history where someone famous dies or a human accident throws our natural world into a frenzy, it's still important. It's important to me and who I was and who I am and who I will be. It isn't any one else's history. It's mine. And it's something I'll always remember, even though there won't be any pictures of proof.
And with that, I'll leave you with this.
Today I'm making a memory. Quite possibly a memory that will be one of my favorites from this trip. More memorable than seeing The Tower of London, taking a cruise up and down the Thames River for hours, numerous pub crawls and High Table (Oxford Tradition) dinners, going to Paris, Amsterdam, Belgium, Germany, and London.
Today I'm doing nothing. I'm doing absolutely nothing and it is utterly and fabulously glorious. I'm sitting at my desk with my computer doing two of my favorite things--discovering new music and writing an English paper--looking out one window over the serene and delicate University College courtyard and through another window that peers into the lives of the street walkers. I have two different worlds combined in one room. And the opposite of it all confuses me. The street is crowded with double-decker buses, impossibly loud sirens, and people boasting different accents and languages while the courtyard is white-noise-quiet. It's so quiet that there is a natural buzz in the air that you can hear (and yet seems to not exist at the same time...). It's like someone trying to whisper something in your ear that bears no importance at all, but you pretend to hear it if only to be worthy of the secret and feel the softness of their breath on your neck. Every time I sit here, I wonder at the possibility that it can be so quiet through one window and so inexorably loud through the other. And that these two worlds are separated merely by a stone wall built hundreds of years ago.
With all of the windows and doors open, different breezes flow through our three-room abode. Scents of lavender and fresh cut grass mix with the customary fish and chips and inevitable street-smell that comes with living in a diversely-populated city.
I plan to go for a run later. And make myself look like a citizen of this historical city instead of another tourist with a camera in my hand, snapping pictures of anything and everything so that I don't forget it all.....but will.
I'll always have those pictures of me standing in front of some monument or another. And they'll always be worth about the same as when they were taken--next to nothing. Not that I don't appreciate history or being able to travel and "see the sights". Because I do. But those things aren't what makes an impression on me; they don't make me grow, change, or become a better person.
Instead, it's days like today. When I do absolutely nothing. But sit. And think. And wonder. And discover. It's when I take things slow and really allow them to naturally process through who I am and help form who I will be. And this means just sitting here and allowing all of it to happen. Being completely open to whatever thought wanders into my mind and allowing it to work itself out.
So while this isn't any exciting breaking-news history where someone famous dies or a human accident throws our natural world into a frenzy, it's still important. It's important to me and who I was and who I am and who I will be. It isn't any one else's history. It's mine. And it's something I'll always remember, even though there won't be any pictures of proof.
And with that, I'll leave you with this.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
What the Kids are Listening to
Miike Snow.
No, not a man. A group. Note the two i's.
I stumbled upon Miike Snow last summer. And it was instant love. Pour in some powder, just add water--it was that instant. My favorite song of his is "Burial" but you may be more familiar with "Animal". "Animal" was played for a brief amount of time on the radio last summer. It should have been a hit and repeated just as much as Miley Cyrus's "Party in the U.S.A." or KE$HA's "Your Love is My Drug". Hey, a girl can dream can't she?
The abundance of the afore mentioned songs is the reason why I listen to my iPod in my car. I try to listen to the radio, but instead keep dodging over-played songs that suddenly resemble landmines. I soon give up and plug 'er in. The iPod that is. And she (yes, it's a she. She's named after my late great-grandmother, Geneva. And what I someday hope to name my daughter. And yes, since your wondering, my iPod IS that important to carry such a name. My iPod is the key to my normality. It secures my sanity. It's my running buddy so that I don't think myself into oblivion. She has earned the name.) Anywho, I've got quite a bit of Miike Snow on her and we all enjoy each other's company quite a bit. The group makes for great road trip music. Or if you're getting ready to go out, great background, pump up music. No, they're not bump and grind or even "I've Got a Feeling" by The Black Eyed Peas. Instead, they've got a mix of feel-good tunes plus a little laid back ones just in case you're in the mood to think while you're getting ready. (Note: I like to think. Not always a good thing. I need a good distraction. Ideas?)
I actually had the opportunity to see Miike Snow perform live. This was at Lollapalooza last August. (August 8-10 2009). It was epic. They opened with "Burial", which totally made my day, and really set the tone for the rest of the concert. The use of their instruments totally amazed me. And still amazes me. I love it.
Songs you also need to check out: "Black & Blue", "Silvia" which played during the opening of a One Tree Hill episode this season (if you're a fan), "Cult Logic", "Song for No One". Just check out their myspace and listen to free music. You won't be disappointed.
Below is "Burial". You're welcome.
No, not a man. A group. Note the two i's.
I stumbled upon Miike Snow last summer. And it was instant love. Pour in some powder, just add water--it was that instant. My favorite song of his is "Burial" but you may be more familiar with "Animal". "Animal" was played for a brief amount of time on the radio last summer. It should have been a hit and repeated just as much as Miley Cyrus's "Party in the U.S.A." or KE$HA's "Your Love is My Drug". Hey, a girl can dream can't she?
The abundance of the afore mentioned songs is the reason why I listen to my iPod in my car. I try to listen to the radio, but instead keep dodging over-played songs that suddenly resemble landmines. I soon give up and plug 'er in. The iPod that is. And she (yes, it's a she. She's named after my late great-grandmother, Geneva. And what I someday hope to name my daughter. And yes, since your wondering, my iPod IS that important to carry such a name. My iPod is the key to my normality. It secures my sanity. It's my running buddy so that I don't think myself into oblivion. She has earned the name.) Anywho, I've got quite a bit of Miike Snow on her and we all enjoy each other's company quite a bit. The group makes for great road trip music. Or if you're getting ready to go out, great background, pump up music. No, they're not bump and grind or even "I've Got a Feeling" by The Black Eyed Peas. Instead, they've got a mix of feel-good tunes plus a little laid back ones just in case you're in the mood to think while you're getting ready. (Note: I like to think. Not always a good thing. I need a good distraction. Ideas?)
I actually had the opportunity to see Miike Snow perform live. This was at Lollapalooza last August. (August 8-10 2009). It was epic. They opened with "Burial", which totally made my day, and really set the tone for the rest of the concert. The use of their instruments totally amazed me. And still amazes me. I love it.
Songs you also need to check out: "Black & Blue", "Silvia" which played during the opening of a One Tree Hill episode this season (if you're a fan), "Cult Logic", "Song for No One". Just check out their myspace and listen to free music. You won't be disappointed.
Below is "Burial". You're welcome.
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