Trailer

My thoughts are muddled. It's becoming difficult to align them. Haven't been on for weeks. Just one thing remains clear: I want to see this movie.
I've watched the trailer so many times and am completely obsessed with it. It looks so charming and funny and different.
Maybe I can see this, and write about it. Let's call this "post" a preview. Or a trailer. :)

Taste the Rainbow

Ok, I've been planning this for a while, so this should be good.
So, this summer I've been working at the Spartan Scroll Shaved Ice Kiosk. It's beautiful, and I love working there (seriously). The people are so fun, and the customers always play around.
The only thing that really irks me is what the customers say sometimes. Like so:

Me: Hello! What flavor would you like?
Customer: Uh... Green.
Me: FACEPALM

Ok, so I don't really hit customers, but sometimes I want to. This is shaved ice. This is not a bag of Skittles.
Don't even get me started on the bugs. The ants just flood out of the cracks in the ground, and soon become so numerous that we cannot control them after awhile. To make matters worse, the bees come and scare some of our customers away. It's like nature is saying, "Screw you, I'm not going to let you raise money."

Me: Hello! What fl- OH GOD, A BEE!
*customer runs off*
Me: FML

At least I have great co-workers.

Feeling great.

Hey, Blogspot isn't blocked at school. Hell yeah.
Anyways, I've been listening to a lot of Andrew Bird since the concert, and I have even put to use some of the trinkets I bought there.
I love trinkets.
Sorry, that was the whole point of my blog- to test it out, and to say I love trinkets.
I'm a fool, I know.

Life in COLOR.

Nothing much, just my very first color cartoon. Enjoy.

'Bird' is the word.

Andrew Bird: one of the greatest musical minds to ever walk this planet.

Personal fact time: I love Andrew Bird.
I know it's silly to try and throw the word "love" around as casually as I do (does that make me a whore?), but I really do have a love for Andrew Bird. Or his music, at least.
I only recently discovered Bird, at around the same time that I found out that you can actually buy music from iTunes giftcards (yes, I have been living under a rock all of my life). His name caught my eye on the iTunes store front page, so I decided to check out some of his music on Myspace and Imeem.
And so I was swept away. His combination of violin, guitar, whistling and (as I later found out) glockenspiel made for extremely unique and exciting music. Not only was it exciting, it was (wait for it)... comfortable to listen to. Bird's voice, the violin and the whistling all create very organic sounds that are only interrupted by the mechanic sound of the guitar and the glockenspiel, blending and balancing nicely to make for a soothing sound.
This is probably why I jumped when I saw that the summer schedule for Los Angeles' Greek Theatre included a concert by Bird (and Chris Botti, but that's a whole other blog). I jumped at the chance to finally see an artist I had constantly put on repeat.
After months of planning, inviting and persuading, my dad finally bought the tickets. This week alone, I have spent hours watching Andrew Bird performances and listening to his albums on my iPod to 'prepare.'
On Friday, I will attend my first ever concert, along with the wonderful Jessica, to see my favorite musician in his most natural state: making music.
I'm excited.

For more Andrew Bird info, visit http://www.andrewbird.net/

Anticipation.

tick-tock, tick-tock...
As I sit in this chair, my legs shake and sweat forms on my forehead.
tick-tock, tick-tock...
As I sit here, a series of numbers race through my head. They may be in different orders each time, but they all have one thing in common: they range from 1 to 5.
tick-tock, tick-tock...
Not today, maybe tomorrow. Until the mailman slips a fistful of envelopes into my mailbox tomorrow, the numbers will continue to pop up in my thoughts, my legs will continue to shake, and I will continue to sweat. I will continue to have to run into the storage closet and hide until my hyperventilating subsides. Until tomorrow, the clock runs strong in my head.
tick-tock, tick-tock...
I flash back to last year, right at the moment that I opened the envelope. My eyes caught a view of the scores, and my knees buckled. Breathing became difficult. An growing sense of failure rose up in my chest.
And the rest of me came crashing down.
tick-tock, tick-tock...
Am I expecting too much of what I may see tomorrow? Am I overthinking it? Am I being a worrywart about something so trivial?
"Life still goes on after you receive those scores," I was told today.
I hope it will.
tick-tock, tick-tock...

EDIT: 7/8/09 I passed.

Rest in peace, King of Pop.

Michael Jackson: A King and a revolutionary.
I'm going to write an obituary.
After hearing the breaking news of Michael Jackson's death yesterday (via Twitter and Facebook), I was still reeling from the shock as I walked into the journalism room today. I was tired as I plopped down onto the couch, and was musing the concept of death when one of my managing editors came by and informed me:
"You're going to cover Michael Jackson's death on one of your pages."
As much as I'd liked it to have been, it was not a dream; I was to write an obituary for a man who my generation only remembered as one thing: a freak.
To add to the weight, I was asked to remind everyone of who he really was; a pop icon and a rousing performer. For a generation that wasn't even conceived at the height of his fame, how was I supposed to turn their heads and let them see the true face of Jackson, behind the numerous plastic surgeries and the shiny gloved hand?
I can only compare the magnanimity of his death with that of probably Elvis Presley, but even then that would be cutting the point a bit short. Although Presley died at the height of his career and the pinnacle of his success, Jackson died on the eve of coming back, after a tumultuous time away from his career. While Presley died being remembered for his great music and his charm, Jackson died with scandal and controversy surrounding him.
Yet, we cannot forget Jackson's contribution to music, his revolution in music video with Thriller, his precision in dance and song (trust me, I've tried learning the Thriller dance quite a few times, it isn't as easy as it looks) and ultimately, his life.
To make one generation remember, to allow another generation to learn.
That is my task at hand.
I just hope I don't screw this one up.