|
Scharn
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Ann
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Los Angeles
Birthday: 10/29/1978
Gender: Female
Interests: Making the most of my (now 2-year) internship in LA
Expertise: Myers-Briggs personality test, remembering phone numbers and random details about preschool friends
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/30/2005
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| I head to Michigan today for a wedding and a couple birthdays.
Feels like I was just getting settled from my summer travels, and I'm
off again. I've been seeing a lot of live music, bands that my friends
are in. I love live music. It has to be pretty awful for me
not to enjoy it, because it's the experience of going out, usually with
a good friend or a group, and having the bass drum pounding in your
chest and trying to figure out the words alongside a bunch of other
people doing the same.
I made a friend at a concert back in May when my favorite
band came to California. I knew because she was there that we
would totally get along. What is it about music that is such a
conduit for community, or for some people, a substitute for
community? I remember meeting a guy on a plane who loved
communicating over the internet, because he could connect to people who
were into the same music as him, obscure bands from the 80's who are no
longer together. When someone knows about the same obscure music
as you, you immediately develop respect for them.
Had a friend visit. Went to the Getty Museum. Loved the
architecture and the setting and the gardens. Went to the Norton
Simon Museum in Pasadena a few days later. So many pieces by
Degas I wanted to start twirling around the room.
Continuing to apply for jobs....had two interviews yesterday.
And, I've been writing a song. It's been a long time since I've
written a song, and I'm enjoying the process. What happened to
the days when they would just flow out of me? Now I've gotta work
for it, but it's about the process. I'm discovering, through
conversations with my roommates about decisions we make in the house,
that I love being a part of the process, and if I'm not a part of the
process, even just as a listening bystander, I feel as though I've been
jipped out of something. I haven't dug down far enough to ponder
why I appreciate the process so much, but that insight alone has been
incredibly helpful.
Some people measure the progress of their lives by how much they've
gotten done. I tend to measure it by the depth to which I
understand myself and the people around me.
Off to do laundry and pack.....
| | |
| I picked up my roommate fresh off the plane from South Africa, and as we were catching up on the drive home, I said that I applied to "a part time job."
She stopped me abruptly. "Wait, did you just say you applied to an apartheid job??"
| | |
| After a summer of adventures, tonight my 3 roommates and I will all be living under the same roof again. I picked up Carmen last night from her adventures in Europe and we went to the beach. It's amazing that no matter how much we've done or where we've gone or how we've changed, the waves still crash against the sand over and over again and the stars still hang in the night sky and planes fly over us taking people to and from worldwide destinations. And it's peaceful and it's settling and it brings everything back into perspective.
Classes started again last week, and I'm looking forward to the semester. My mind is hungry. I applied to a couple part-time jobs to help fill out my schedule. One of the jobs connected me to a photographer whose work is phenomenal. She is a member of a worldwide consortium of 10 award-winning photographers. Check out their stuff. I love craigslist, which connected me to this opportunity.
Time for lunch then off to get roommate #4 fresh from South Africa.
| | |
| Off to the northern woods of Minnesota for the last few days of my adventure. Some quiet. Some reflection. And my first attempt at camping. I think it should go well.
There was an awesome thunderstorm here yesterday morning. It was as dark as night at 9 in the morning. I miss the distant rumble of thunder as the sky threatens to spill its contents onto the earth and then the subsequent torrent of drops and lightning and thunder as wind dances through trees and people run for cover. I went outside and let a few drops fall on my skin and lifted my face upward, wondering if I might be able to see where they came from, but then a raindrop fell in my eye and I was done with looking up.
I love my friends. And they love me. It's so easy and comfortable and fun and amazing.
I'm taking a Strengthsfinder training next week and so retook the assessment last night, and got the treat of seeing all 34 of my strengths in order....that'll have my head spinning for awhile.
Ready to battle mosquitoes....
| | |
| Well, it did get too hot to see all the movie--"The Band Wagon" with Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse. There was lots of good dancing, but the blanket we were sitting on generated a lot of heat, making it feel like an oven, even though the air was cool. What a great way to see a film, though! Buildings of Manhattan all around. All different kinds of people on blankets splayed out on a huge lawn.
Yesterday was quite the New York day. I had stayed the night in Astoria in Queens then went to midtown to get the key to another friend's place where I stayed last night. Dropped off my kindergartner-sized backpack at her place on the upper east side, took the subway down to the southwestern tip of Manhattan and had lunch with a friend at the World Financial Center, then traversed back up to the upper east side to take my second shower of the day and change into my third outfit. This heat is BRUTAL! I think the heat index yesterday was 105 or something? Then to midtown, right across from Grand Central for dinner with my childhood French horn teacher. Then to the movie in Bryant Park a few blocks away, then back to the upper east side.
Grand Central was crazy busy...I was there from about 5 to 5:30. There's actually nowhere to sit so I just stood in the middle of the chaos and wrote down some thoughts. It seemed like everything was in fast-forward, but it wasn't. It reminded me of the Qatsi trilogy of films--I can't remember if it's Koyaanisqatsi or Powaqqatsi where people moving through Grand Central ARE in fast-forward with trippy Philip Glass arpeggios going in the background. I couldn't get past the hurry and the chaos and the heat and it was just heavy. I tried to get past it, but I couldn't and I don't know why. But still, I really like this city. I love the subway; I just don't like waiting for the subway when it's a million degrees and I'm on my third outfit, dying to get into a fourth.
Today, off to Minnesota and in a couple days to the backwoods of northern Minnesota. From the chaos of the city to the serenity of Lake Superior with one of the most calming people of my life. Should be a good way to close out this life adventure. | | |
|
