Completely Unnecessary

After a year, I finally found an Irish dance class in Melbourne. So, Thursday night I went out in the pouring, freezing rain and danced my little heart out.

It is now Saturday, and I am still just in remarkable amounts of pain. I walk down stairs like I’ve been hit by a bus. I’ve chosen to sit on the floor to compose this entry, and it’s unclear to me if I’m going to be able to get back up afterwards.

It was awesome, obviously. I think we did more lunges that night than I’ve done collectively in my entire life. I just hope I’m fixed up enough to be able to dance the Monday night class.

Anyway, some of the pain was offset by a night on the town last night, which yielded Violeta and I drinking with post-conference archaeologists. Given the amount of pain I was in, I don’t feel I was given enough credit for the following interaction after last drinks were called:

Dave: So, how was hanging out with archaeologists?
Me: It was good. I dug it.

I only got a low five for that.

And only after I asked.

They’ve probably had years to come up with archeology puns, but that was right off the cuff! I am unappreciated in my time.

Vaguely Related

• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)
• To Be Young

In Melbourne we live with some pretty stringent water restrictions. But we’re still eventually going to run out of water down here.

Last night we got a taste of those bad days ahead.

I came home around 2:30a to find a huge lake of water down the road from me and crews working frantically (and, undoubtedly, at incredible penalty rates).

The implications of this image didn’t hit me until I tried to brush my teeth. And do about a million other small things you never even think about. (I wound up washing my hands with water I found in the kettle…)

Glancing with new appreciation at the crew in the road, I was really impressed  at first with the gung-ho attitude of Melbourne Water. Way to get the problem solved, team!

This enthusiasm lessened as I settled into bed, and the sounds of the jackhammer continued intermittently. Actually, the sound of the machine was fine when it was going constantly. Instead, every time I started to drift off it would either stop, only to loudly punctuate the silence a minute later. As the time moved towards 5:00a, neither Bryan nor I were happy campers.

It was not a pleasant evening.

Nor a pleasant morning when we were still without water - and, indeed, until about 12:30p. I was at a bbq yesterday, so with the grease from the sausages, the sweating caused by strenuous sessions of Guitar Hero, and the absurd number of hedgehogs I ate (it’s a dessert), I really, really wanted a shower this morning.

Instead I’ve been watching episodes of The Office, the US version. Now I am clean, and will do my reading - after watching just a bit more of The Office.

Vaguely Related

• Rain: Wherefore art thou?
• Olympic Unimpression

This is seriously the front page theage.com.au is running at the moment (too wide, hence the thumbnail):

Stories include: testimony at Charles Taylor’s trial, fleeing molesty schoolmarms and ‘Kristen’s’ musical popularity. Don’t miss the two stories at the bottom about the ‘naked kidnap ordeal’ and that lady who was on the toilet for two years.

Every other goddamn headline these days is some sensationalist, Herald-Sun sex story.
And this is why, Fairfax Media, I’ve pretty much stopped reading the online version of your newspaper.

Vaguely Related

• Quentin Bryce: Gender-Tagging the New Governor-General
• Joy of Sex at the Age

They can be hard to find.

Truth be told, I don’t go see much live music because I’m a pitch snob. Far too many bands these days are altered in the studio. If you can’t sing, I just kind of hate it. I’ve spent too many shows cringing at flat notes to generally take a risk on someone I don’t know.

I know, there’s this amazing je ne sais quoi to being at a live show that listening to a CD just can’t replace. It’s all so special and I’m so glad we were all there to share it together.

Great. Learn to sing.

That being said, I just came back from one of the best shows I’ve ever been to: Dan Deacon. Not only was his music great, he put us hipsters through our paces. I love nothing more than seeing a group of los too cool for school being made to do funny things.

He made the entire audience move to one side and then perform a huge ‘tunnel’ - you know where two people put their hands up, and then the next pair goes through and joins the end of the line? He also made a number of individuals dance ’sassy’ in the middle of a huge ring of us.

In fact, this performance was second only to Les Savy Fav at Intonation ‘05, when Tim Harrington made 10,000-20,000 hipsters in ironic sunglasses sit down in unison. It was like magic.

Anyway, I am sleepy, but Dan’s show is definitely worth checking out (and now I’m about to cross-post). He’s performing tomorrow at the St. Jerome’s Laneway Festival (good luck getting tickets -boo, I wanted to see Gotye) and also on Tuesday somewhere that I’m not telling. And it’s only maybe because I don’t remember.

Vaguely Related

• John Cage’s Musicircus
• Alignment

Which brings me to the point I was making two days ago - welcome to my brain.

People keep asking me if I’m moving back to Chicago after my Melbourne sojourn (which, if you pronounce it the aussie way, kind of rhymes!). The answer is most likely ‘no,’ as Chicago is not the hotbed of national politics and media that we’d like to think.

The question that usually follows is: well, are you going to stay in Australia? The answer to that is probably also ‘no,’ but I wish it was ‘yes’ for at least one very important reason: walking.

I hate what living in Chicago does to me. After just six weeks visiting home, I felt unsafe walking home after the films the other night. One of the great things about living in Melbourne is that I can walk home at 1am by myself without concern. And yet I found myself looking around and constantly glancing over my shoulder. I wondered if the guy in black on Victoria Parade was just just drunk or if he kept stopping because he meant me harm. I crossed the road.

Look, it’s wise to be a savvy city girl no matter where you are, and it’s also wise to look over your shoulder when you’re walking alone late at night. But I hate the resurgent sense of threat that comes from visiting the States. After a year of living in Melb, I looked to see if anyone was there, not to see if I should be scared. It might not make sense, but those are two different things.

I appreciate the lack of feeling of risk I have walking alone here. I would everywhere were as safe.

ps - Also my bike is fixed, which just makes me speedier anyway. I have ten gears again!

Vaguely Related

• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)
• The ‘Monster’ Petition and the Women of Davis Street

Turns out that a Google search of things like, “1890s Carlton” brings up a link to one of the Metblogs I wrote a while back. A man doing research on his family found my email address via the site and asked for some general information about what life was like in the neighborhood back then.

Dork that I am, I’m now engaged in an all-out search for his elusive relative.

Old records are so much fun! And I get to look for his great grandfather’s will and everything. I’m so insanely flattered to be asked for help doing this. It’s as though I have a useful skill.

So now I have a project to occupy the days before leaving for Asia. Not, you know, reading about where I’m going and what I’m doing, but spending the day at the archives (and then going to see Cloverfield).

Really, it’s completely impossible for me to play it cool about stuff like this. He was like, ‘Hey, so I’m doing this research, but it’s hard because I’m 3000k away’ and I’m like, “I’m going to the archives tomorrow!’

Vaguely Related

• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)
• The ‘Monster’ Petition and the Women of Davis Street

Since about the time I arrived in Australia, I’ve had The Shins ‘Turn On Me’ stuck in my head. It’s not constant, but if there’s nothing else in there, that’s what’s playing. (Um, I should mention there’s not really a second that music isn’t playing in my head - you know how I get distracted sometimes and can’t complete my thought? That’s just moments when the multitasking breaks down).

Anyway, so I was at Rooftop Bar tonight and was wandering my way through the crowd to the toilet. Unsurprisingly, ‘Turn On Me’ was cycling through, and I was singing along inside my head. What was surprising, however, was that Rooftop was not only playing the song, but it was pretty damn close to where I was in my head.

It was incredibly weird. I’ve never heard that song anywhere other than my iTunes.

I resisted the urge to inform the staff of the miracle. The barman with the lip stud is really, really nice, but I managed to convince myself that even he wouldn’t share in my excitement.

Vaguely Related

• John Cage’s Musicircus
• Good Shows

I’m not supposed to double post from my the Melbourne Metblog, but I’m too excited - loosely-based internet rules be damned!

John Cage is one of my favorite 20th century composers. His most famous piece is ‘4:33′, in which no actual notes are played. That’s interesting and all, but I’m in love with his prepared piano stuff. His technique included shoving (very carefully) a bunch of stuff (frequently everyday, junk objects) into pianos and composing around that. Some of it’s really amazing.

Well, I’ve just spent 15 minutes failing to make the audio player work, so that’s thrilling. I’m sure I’ll think about this time when I’m whining over my 12,000 words due in about three weeks. Here’s a youtube clip instead (there’s a bunch of lead up, so I’d start watching from 5:00, the piece starts just before 6:00):

Here’s another. This is actually from the Prepared Piano set I wanted to play, though not the one I wanted. It’s pretty neat:

Anyway, this Friday the Melbourne Arts Festival is running John Cage’s Musicircus. It goes from dusk (5:48pm) to dawn the next morning. There’s all sorts of music, art, dance, theatre, etc. The lineup looks amazing, though there are literally so many acts I didn’t even get to look at them all properly.

So excited for this. It’s going to be 25 degrees as well, but, being Melbourne, the low is going to be 9. Sigh.

Vaguely Related

• Good Shows
• De-Fabulousing

I spent the day desperately trying to recover from this weekend. I originally envisioned this blog post as a letter to Sam from my liver, but decided against it because it requires too much thought.

The liver isn’t really the problem so much as just the utter, utter fatigue of three days running around the city:

• We shopped,
• drank Little Creatures on the Rooftop Bar (my new favorite place),
• met a guy that introduced himself with the name of his website,
• I got in a teensy argument with a bartender that was almost entirely not my fault,
• ate amazing food,
• rode on the alternately terrifying and boring ferris wheel,
• learned about whey protein,
• did other things

Yeah, the brain isn’t working so well. It didn’t help that I had seven hours of class today. We went out for coffee after my first class. I just wanted to sit quietly and read the newspaper. Instead, my right ear was shouted into by an extremely loud girl. I kept looking at her, fantasizing about punching her in the throat. I was honestly like, “Hmm, I wonder what my rep in the department would be after this. I actually don’t think anyone would mind…”

And I was dying today in Sean’s class, despite a quick nap between classes and the fact that I really enjoy the subject. I refocused again at one point to see Sean looking at me strangely. I’m pretty sure I was just staring at him with my eyes crossed for about 30 seconds.

Despite this long day, I can’t wait to do it again.

And now, back to The West Wing, snuggled under my doona. It’s one of the joys of Melbourne that it can be hot and sunny one day and cold and raining the next. Sometimes also within the hour.

Vaguely Related

• Stolen
• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)

Sam is here this weekend, and she thinks she is more important than sharing my copious opinions and wit with both of my readers (well, that’s debatable since she’s not reading this weekend).

Unless something horrible happens (though both these things are pretty horrible) or something miraculous occurs (like the Virgin Mary in toast or something), I’ll be shopping for shoes and drinking rooftop beers in the sun all weekend.

I love this city soooooo much.

Vaguely Related

• Returned
• Wind (and a little bit of media studies!)