six million, seven hundred thousand and thirty-three lights on.
While my attempts at assorted abstainence during lent were thwarted by my complete lack of self control, I am determined to successfully endure national TV Turnoff Week this week (April 19th-25th). I've managed to keep this annual tradition more or less successfully ever since I was lured into the adbusters fold three years ago by a batallion of brickbat-weilding performance art propagandists (whom I'm pretty sure were just pushing TV turnoff week as an excuse for busting up tv sets). I am not imune to the irony of shunning my tv for a week considering my imminent degree actually has 'television' in the title, but really I think its a worthwhile endevor, especially for kids and especially when the weather is nice, which it has mostly been lately. TVTOW has only been underway for a few hours now and already I feel like congratulating myself for my restraint for not watching the COPS special all-nudity-related busts show. *love, r.
Monday, April 19, 2004
how i spent my saturday night, by ryan s.
Sam and her parents and I went to San Antonio this weekend to see John Prine perform at the Majestic Theater. We had dinner before the show at a resonably fancy Italian place on the riverwalk that was swarming with kids in their prom finery who served as limitless fodder for amusingly catty insults from Sam and her Parents. The Majestic, an ornate, mexican art deco movie palace, was just about the coolest venue I've been to in a long time and I'm pretty sure this was the first concert I've ever been to that wasn't in a coffee shop or didn't involve and orchestra where I had an actual seat. As it turns out, I'm a bigger Prine fan than I thought I was and recognized most of the songs he played save for a few of the newer ones. It was a pretty good show save for the array of drunken Jimmy Buffet impersonators shouting incomprehensible and ill-timed punctuations to Prine's charming annectdotes (To misquote Sam quoting the rube in the row ahead of us " What? 'Tear it up, John!'? The man is playing accoustic guitar for godsake!"). In conclusion, it was a nice thing to share with Sam and her parents whom I am finally starting to feel more comfortable around and become really fond of. Then End. *love, r.
Sam and her parents and I went to San Antonio this weekend to see John Prine perform at the Majestic Theater. We had dinner before the show at a resonably fancy Italian place on the riverwalk that was swarming with kids in their prom finery who served as limitless fodder for amusingly catty insults from Sam and her Parents. The Majestic, an ornate, mexican art deco movie palace, was just about the coolest venue I've been to in a long time and I'm pretty sure this was the first concert I've ever been to that wasn't in a coffee shop or didn't involve and orchestra where I had an actual seat. As it turns out, I'm a bigger Prine fan than I thought I was and recognized most of the songs he played save for a few of the newer ones. It was a pretty good show save for the array of drunken Jimmy Buffet impersonators shouting incomprehensible and ill-timed punctuations to Prine's charming annectdotes (To misquote Sam quoting the rube in the row ahead of us " What? 'Tear it up, John!'? The man is playing accoustic guitar for godsake!"). In conclusion, it was a nice thing to share with Sam and her parents whom I am finally starting to feel more comfortable around and become really fond of. Then End. *love, r.
Wednesday, April 7, 2004
going to the ocean
Despite my efforts at cleaning my apartment, something in it persists in enraging Samantha's out-of-control allergies. Be it mold, spores, or fungi, I'm not sure which, she is unable to spend more than a half an hour in it without starting to cough and wheeze. So for the better part of a week I've taken up residence at her apartment in order for me to maintain my desired proximity to her and to mooch her highspeed internet. The advantages of this arrangement are numerous, the least of which is that my own apartment continues to remain clean so long as I am not there to fuck it all up. Since I've been at Sam's though, my already disjointed hours have become even more contorted. Thanks to daylight savings time, I've now gone completely nocturnal, save for the few daylight hours i've spent attending class and hanging out with my sister and todd (in from Arizona for Todd to lecture at the university formerly known as SWT). Also unlike at my own place, Sam's pantry actually has food in it and I've found myself frequently grazing in her bounty, one eye on the slice of german chocolate cake the other screwed up nervously at my subtly returning paunch. Aside from hanging out with Samantha, I've been filling my nights drinking coffee, watching bad movies and blog-reading, especially Portland-based blogs as I have gotten it in my head to visit there despite the low rating it got on my best places list (San Francisco was number one). My guess is that it was probably recently seeing "the subconscious art of graffiti removal" again and the Fodor's Pacific Northwest that I found at a thrift store that sparked my interest. Any city billed as a "walker's paradise" seems at least worth investigating. Plus it gets me that much closer to Canada and should I denounce my American citizenship (Bush victory '04), closer to all that sweet sweet government filmmaking dough. *love, r.
Despite my efforts at cleaning my apartment, something in it persists in enraging Samantha's out-of-control allergies. Be it mold, spores, or fungi, I'm not sure which, she is unable to spend more than a half an hour in it without starting to cough and wheeze. So for the better part of a week I've taken up residence at her apartment in order for me to maintain my desired proximity to her and to mooch her highspeed internet. The advantages of this arrangement are numerous, the least of which is that my own apartment continues to remain clean so long as I am not there to fuck it all up. Since I've been at Sam's though, my already disjointed hours have become even more contorted. Thanks to daylight savings time, I've now gone completely nocturnal, save for the few daylight hours i've spent attending class and hanging out with my sister and todd (in from Arizona for Todd to lecture at the university formerly known as SWT). Also unlike at my own place, Sam's pantry actually has food in it and I've found myself frequently grazing in her bounty, one eye on the slice of german chocolate cake the other screwed up nervously at my subtly returning paunch. Aside from hanging out with Samantha, I've been filling my nights drinking coffee, watching bad movies and blog-reading, especially Portland-based blogs as I have gotten it in my head to visit there despite the low rating it got on my best places list (San Francisco was number one). My guess is that it was probably recently seeing "the subconscious art of graffiti removal" again and the Fodor's Pacific Northwest that I found at a thrift store that sparked my interest. Any city billed as a "walker's paradise" seems at least worth investigating. Plus it gets me that much closer to Canada and should I denounce my American citizenship (Bush victory '04), closer to all that sweet sweet government filmmaking dough. *love, r.
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