Monday, August 27, 2007

The sound of peace and quiet

Good day my fair readers.

I have an inquiry for which I’d like to elicit your suggestions and recommendations:

I LOVE the sound of white noise when I am falling asleep at night, specifically, the constant droning of a fan. I love it so much that I find it difficult to feel comfortable and soothed while falling asleep without the noise. Unfortunately, two problems have arisen: (1) the fan is great on hot nights, but when fall and winter roll around I basically force myself to shiver like I’m trapped in an icebox just so that I can have that auditory bliss - since the calming effect I get from the fan outweighs the bitter sensation that my frosty skin endures, and (2) I have been waking up with a raw throat and congested sinuses from the harsh conditions of the constant air blast (even when it is oscillating).

So my question is this: does anyone know of some sort of white noise device that I can use in lieu of a fan, to help me fall asleep at night? It’s going to have to be something that’s more or less identical to a fan sound; I’ve heard alarm clocks that offer rain, wind, and ocean settings, and though they might suffice, I’d really like the basic sound of a fan.

I eagerly await all responses and suggestions!

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Activities Worth Mentioning

Well hello there. It’s been called to my attention that I haven’t written much this month. I’ve started a few different entries but something always comes up and I don’t have time to finish them. So I’m going to see if I have enough time to squeeze one out right now.

The past week has been jam packed with activities. Be it a Dodger game, a night with grandparents, staffing a work related event, moving furniture, attending a show at the Hollywood Bowl, jet-setting to San Francisco for the weekend, or seeing THE BEASTIE BOYS (what what!) at The Greek AND The Wiltern, I just can’t seem to get a quiet night of relaxation at home. Oh woe is me!

Yes, the past eight days have consisted of all those activities, and more. Where do I start? How about I work backwards in time. So, yeah, I saw The Beastie Boys last night in concert at The Greek Theatre, ya know, no big deal. So like, they were amazing and it was probably one of the best few concerts I’ve ever been to, if not THE best, (shrug) but whatevs… in all seriousness though: WOW. I’ve been ardently listening to these B Boys since I was about eleven years old (“be true to yourself and you will never fall” was my eighth grade yearbook graduation quote), and yet I had never seen them live. Last night was exactly what I was hoping for, but so much more than I expected. They played more or less the entire Ill Communication album, which is definitely my favorite album, the one that first got me interested in their music, in fact – the one I was hoping they would play plenty of songs from. The stage was absolutely magnificent: a dozen or two rounded tyriangular, asymmetrical, different sized screens loosely hung in a wave shape over the stage, shining different lights and patterns throughout the show; the raised instrument section of the stage (including two full drum sets, other forms of percussion, and keyboards) had bright, color changing lining underneath it, which illuminated the whole stage – during funky jams they set the color to a mellow orangey-red and during high energy rhymes it alternated bright whites, yellows, blues, reds, greenss etc.; Mix Master Mike’s turntable setup had strobe lights posted on both outside table corners; they were all dressed in suh-weet getups, reminiscent of 1940s speakeasy-goers. The whole act was very classy, even when singing “No Sleep ‘til Brooklyn”. Overall, the show had a very funky, lounge-like feel, due to the new instrumental album the are promoting, called The Mix Up.

Oh, and did I mention that I’m going to see them again tonight at The Wiltern, for their all-instrumental “Gala Event” show, for which audience members are expected to dress to the nines? Oh, I did? Well anyway, I’m doing that too.

Whew, I’m already out of figurative breath, and I haven’t even started talking about the weekend. On Friday night Karen, Emily and I set out for San Francisco, for a weekend of fun in honor of Sam’s birthday. A weekend of fun indeed. I really don’t know that I could have had a better time. Naturally, after going out to dinner that night, we set out on the town. I don’t know the name of the first bar we went to, but it was nice until it got over crowded. At that point we headed to one of Sam’s favorite bars called “The Red Room”. The name says it all: everything, everywhere you look, is red. They even have wall partitions made of bottles that reflect red everywhere (perhaps the bottles themselves are red, I don’t know). I definitely liked the layout there. Of course, when you’re on vacation, no night simply ends when you hear the shouts of “last call!” and realize the lights are fading back on, making your red room appear not so red after all. So we went to an apartment that had pretty cool graffiti covering the inside walls, which made for some unique photographs.

Saturday might have been my favorite day of all. For his birthday, Sam wanted to play softball. I was pumped about it as soon as I heard. I love softball but stopped playing after eighth grade because I was never very good; despite having a decent arm, I was always pretty much a benchwarmer. Regardless, I’ve always loved to play catch and I guess I just really like games in general. Anyway, we spent the whole afternoon outside, in the sun, being merry. It was grand and I’d really like to make a habit of it… outdoor game-playing, that is. After getting cleaned up we started the evening by convening for “Happy Hour” (read: 10pm) at Sam’s. The first bar we headed out to was so interesting. It was actually an art gallery that throws themed parties every week. This weekend the theme was croquet, or garden party, or something of that nature. The entire floor was covered in plush grass – I couldn’t resist walking around barefoot. Plus, there was an upstairs loft area that we had to our group of about 15 people for a good hour, so it made for our own little private party. The second place we went to was also interesting in its own rite (I hope I remember the story correctly): back in the day, Miles Davis opened this cool little jazz bar and I guess it was quite the musical destination for awhile. It closed and remained closed for about twenty years, and only recently reopened with the new name “222”. The DJ in the back had us all getting groovy, dancing our little hearts out until, yet again, it was time for them to kick us out for closing.

Sunday consisted of lying around in Washington Park all day, from which my face incurred a nasty red sunburn unlike one I’ve had in years. But it was relaxing and totally enjoyable to just lounge around on a grassy knoll all afternoon with a handful of good friends. All in all, it was fantastic to hang out with old friends all weekend, in addition to meeting and making new ones. Great people, awesome city, what more could I ask for?

That’s all the energy I have to write about things in the past. So, there you go.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

The Boys in Blue

Well, I went to a Dodger game last night, my first of the season. They played the Houston Astros. I had forgotten that fans of the away team often infultrate the robust exhibition of regional pride that occurs at baseball games. But sure enough, jerseys of brick red & tan with names...

Outfield seats aren't as far away as I remember them being when I was a kid.

Haha - I never finished this post...

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

One more cup of coffee for the road

I wasn't fully aware that I had become addicted to caffeine - yet again - until today. I'm sitting here at my desk with a throbbing head, almost as though my sinuses are backed up and the only cure is to lay in bed and sleep it off. Looking at my computer screen, I can't focus. I try to sit up straight but my back curls over the edge of my desk. I try to write this blog entry and find myself holding my head as though it hurts to think, as I harness all my energy to squeeze out one collected thought at a time... very... slowly.

It's only been one or two weeks since I've reverted to my old ways of sipping the juice in the morning. Ah coffee, my old comrade: a pick me up, something to get my day started. I began drinking again, thinking it was harmless; just a way to make sure I'm ready and raring to go by the time I get to work, a way to focus my mind. Once I acknowledged my dependency on it - the last time around - I realized I should get off the stuff "for good". Then, months later, I actually decided to... when I saw that my teeth had become the charming shade of 1920s photographs. Superficial? Maybe. But what kind of person would I turn into if I sustained such a vice? I mean, Mommy always said caffeine made Daddy mean at night time.

And now - after moving into a new apartment and establishing a new route to work, which happens to pass right by my local coffee shop - I've begun groggily stumbling in for a little morning boost, despite my triumph of kicking that habit months ago. A girl's gotta wake up somehow!

So here I sit, at my computer, half awake, chatting on instant messenger with my friend from down the hall about needing caffeine - a conversation he initiated after witnessing my condition. "Maybe we should walk down the street for some coffee," he says very sympathetically. I find it funny that as I write this, all my concurrent communications with other people orbit around this powerful little drink. What a hold it has on me!

After much deliberation, I think we've built up the morale. I'm off to get some caffeine!