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Summer Sunday

I used to dread Sundays. I'd snicker at references to it as the "day of rest" throughout my epic Catholic education (15 years = a whole lot of snickering). For me, Sunday meant strategically timed showers and meals in order to waste as little time as possible. It meant regretting starting Saturday night at 6 o'clock, because I didn't get enough reading done.

During the worst of Sundays, I'd put on a little soundtrack to bask in my Sunday angst. The Pretenders' cover of Morrissey's "Everyday is Like Sunday" was a particular favorite. To fully comprehend the angst, here's the first verse and chorus:

V1: Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come Armageddon!
Come, Armageddon! come!

C: Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Before you judge, listen to the song. It's damn good and perfectly captured my sentiments about Sunday. While I'm still a fan of of the song and other Sunday songs, including "Sunday Morning" by The Velvet Underground, I am no longer a hater of Sunday.

Sunday is my savior! It's a day off in a 6-day week when nine hours of sleep feels like fifteen; when I drink coffee just for the taste; when folding laundry is relaxing. Even the half-mile trek to the grocery store is satisfying. Today I splurged on some Norwegian cheese, Snøfrisk, and bought some locally grown blueberries. These little treats seem like child's play after seeing the delicacies (and obscene prices) at the Dupont Circle Farmer's Market, but they're the little joys that make Sunday special.

The day is almost gone now, but it was a good one. When I can wait contentedly at the bus stop for over an hour and make friends with a Cuban named Omar, it's been a decent day.

Give Lady Gaga a Break

Because I promised a post, I will briefly discuss the best thing about commuting to work.

It's the podcasts. At all other times of the year, podcasts pile up in my Itunes library. That pesky exclamation mark appears next to each and every subscription reminding me that I'm masquerading as a pseudo-intellectual. I could never just sit in my room for an hour and listen to a radio program.

Times have changed, my friends. I've cried on the GUTS bus listening to Dan Savage recount his mother's battle with cancer on This American Life. I've fallen in love with The Low Anthem's "Charlie Darwin" on All Songs Considered. I've rolled my eyes about Obama's controversial "conscience clause" on Slate's DoubleX Gabfest.

Perhaps things have gotten a little out of hand. I now subscribe to ten podcasts, some of which take a few weeks to get around to listening. But if you have an Ipod and you commute, I highly recommend you give Lady Gaga a break and listen to some storytelling. Or news. Or comedy. Anything! Spice up your life with a podcast. When the day's done and you're looking forward to going to sleep as soon as you can scarf down your pasta dinner, it's something to look forward to.

Work Hard, Play Hard?

I learned last week that I cannot work hard, play hard. I can work hard, rest for a night, do some laundry, and then can play relatively hard.

I'm getting into the groove of working three jobs, but sadly my blogging has suffered. Big things are in store for the blog though, including a move to WordPress and a new domain! Get ready.

In the meantime, look for a Friday night blog entry.

Thanks EThrash187

Today I learned that an old friend has died. Eric drowned on Thursday in a tragic accident. He was the first person I "dated." At the ripe age of 14 and without a driver's license, this meant an occasional group trip to the movie theater and a lot of online chatting. Eric and I didn't work out. The logistics of traveling 31 miles to see each other was impractical, but thanks to the internet, we stayed good friends. We talked so often on AIM that our chat logs, had I saved them, would've amassed countless pages.

We lost touch after high school as many friends do. Hearing about him today, I was saddened by the news. My sadness deepened as I realized the impact of his life on my own. I wish I could thank him for it today, but instead, I'll settle with this blog entry.

Eric was there when I started learning to play the guitar. When I began the hunt for my first electric guitar, we debated Fender versus Ibanez. These are the two brands most newbies gravitate towards. Ibanez, Eric argued, was the more versatile guitar. As a thrash metal enthusiast, he urged me to choose a metal-friendly guitar so I could later shred to my heart's desire. Fender, however, was the choice brand of my favorite bands at the time. I wanted to play like Blink 182, Green Day, and Rancid. Eric Clapton even had a signature Fender model that I saw in the catalogues, and I knew at the time that Eric Clapton was... someone. Eric called me out. He told me I just wanted a Fender because I thought they looked cool! While that was 100% true, I denied it and bought a Schecter instead. That's how much power the guy had over me!

Eric's influence didn't stop there. He opened my eyes to more than the pop punk music I listened to. He pointed out the simplicity of Green Day and Blink 182 songs, that they were just a bunch of power chords with catchy melodies. While I was still allowed to like them (and I do), he showed me the way to greener pastures. He started my music education slowly with Metallica's Master of Puppets. I listened back through their discography, and eventually learned to play my first guitar solos ever with "Fade To Black." I learned that Master of Puppets was Metallica's masterpiece and that it was all downhill afterwards. Eric would later send me in the direction of other musicians I would've taken a lot longer to embrace: Jimi Hendrix, Opeth, Black Sabbath, and more.

Although I wouldn't have consciously thought this before, Eric had a huge impact on the person I am today: my music snobbiness, my random knowledge of metal, even the electric guitar I own. It's crazy to think about the butterfly effect he created. Eric is gone now, but I won't forget his influence on me. Thanks a lot, EThrash187. Your friend, jlgpunk182.

Radio Meditation

I write this from my favorite summer meditation spot, the radio studio. During the year, it's only empty from 2AM to 8AM. In the summer, it's gloriously free almost all the time. I park myself at a couch or even the studio window where I can be alone with my lap top, my thoughts, and a Subway sandwich. While my student card no longer provides me access to computer labs or the library, I can at least come here without feeling like I should be gone.

Man, I feel old. But I'm young and I know it! How can I combat this paranoia? For the past few days, my left hip has been bothering me and my first reaction was to flash forward to a scene at age forty where I have trouble walking. I suppressed that image only to be bombarded by an even scarier scene: me having trouble walking at age twenty-five! And then I thought of health insurance. And then I metaphorically slapped myself in the face, addressed myself as "Jessica," and told myself to get a hold of myself.

I came to the radio station to do just that. For the past 2.5 hours, I wrote some emails, nibbled at a foot-long tuna sub, and stared at the racks of cds meditatively while listening to the rotation playlist. I think I feel better now.

Saying Goodbye

Every now and again, I get so emotional about an event that I am forced to restrain myself from blogging. Graduating. It happened to me almost two weeks ago. Some would even argue I made it happen. I accomplished it. I'd rather not take responsibility for an event so traumatizing.

Four years ago, I wouldn't have guessed that graduating would be such a painful process. As a freshman, I contemplated transferring to Columbia or NYU. I viewed my new friendships with floormates on D6 with suspicion and was repulsed by the preppiness of many of my Georgetown peers. My cynicism, however, could only withstand so many good times. My love of Georgetown grew to epic proportions with each basketball game, group dinner at Leo's, and covert dormroom pre-games.

Four years later, I found myself living with five of my closest friends in the greatest house in all of Burleith (see photo above). It truly was a home with everything that a home should have: a family, good food, good conversation, and comfy couches. It was not unusual for at least one housemate to be awake between the hours of 6AM - 4AM. Consequently, round the clock moral support, as well as delicoius baked goods, were in constant supply.

After graduation, I was the last housemate to depart our Burleith paradise. I braced myself for each of five "goodbye's" and though I knew I'd see everyone again, I cried. It was the dismantling of our family. The drama of it all was emphasized by empty rooms and white walls. Surprisingly, it became easier when everyone left. My anxiety floated away, and I felt like I could finally rest. Maybe because I had tried so hard to stay up late and wake up early hanging onto every moment while everyone was still here.

The sadness of leaving the house behind lingers with me. I am living only a block away now, but it's hard not to remember how great it was as I walk by each day. Now is different, I tell myself. But different is not as good as before. I was lucky to have experienced such an amazing senior year and overall college career. I know that I am lucky, because when I tell people how hard it was for it to end, some can't relate. They can't identify with the feeling of loss.

Graduation may be the most traumatic thing I've gone through, but I think that means I've had a pretty good life so far. Moving on isn't all bad. I do feel accompished, and I am excited to see how I'll turn out. Will I be successful? Will I move somewhere new? What will my first apartment look like? I'm excited to see how friends turn out too. What will they be when they grow up? I think the Class of 2009 thought it would have a clearer idea by now, but the economy has us on our toes.

While I wait to find out, I've got some exciting plans for the next 4 months. In addition to a few jobs to keep me busy, I'll continue writing this blog. I'll write more music. I'll listen to more music. I'll even read. Unfortunately, Suze Orman is high on the priority list.

As a grown-up blogger, what will I write about? I'll figure it out soon. Thanks for reading.

Coming Soon

Behold my return to the blogosphere... in one day. Moving and graduating has set me back, but I am recovered. Tune in.

-Jess

Thank You, NPR

This past week, I toured the NPR studios with Bob Boilen of All Songs Considered. This was amazing for several reasons: First, Bob Boilen is a celebrity of sorts for music listeners and hearing his distinctive voice and seeing him in the flesh was surreal. Second, the NPR studios are mind-blowing, and their staff are rock stars. I was fortunate enough to watch a live taping of All Things Considered. While my love of NPR is firmly rooted in All Songs and music-related programming, watching the flawless execution of All Things was inspiring. The crew were cool as cucumbers and cruised through the show without blinking an eye. Meanwhile, my adrenaline was pumping as my eyes darted from the news personalities to the producer and his instructive gestures to the sound engineer pushing a hundred buttons.

I can't emphasize how important this tour was to me in my outlook on the future. In the past week and a half, I've gone from zero post-graduation plans to 5 months worth of employment. Massive sigh of relief. While this isn't the situation I had imagined for myself at age 21, I'm happy with it. In times like these, I forget what I really want. I tell myself that I'd rather get any job as long as it's full-time and pays. After the NPR tour, I realize that's a lie. I envy the security of jobs in consulting, for instance, but I know that I wouldn't enjoy it. Even if this NPR high only lasts a few weeks, I'm so glad I felt it.

I have struggled with blogging for the past two weeks, because I've only wanted to talk about my perceived worthlessness. I know no one wants to read that, so please endure this paragraph. I, like many of my fellow 2009 graduates, are feeling like everything we've done for the past 8 years is meaningless. Should we have just tried to join the US Postal Service after high school? Those are some enviable salaries... and I only wish that was sarcasm! I don't think anyone expects to literally be unemployable after 4 years of college, but this is what we face. This will be a fantastic story to tell in another 20 years after it's all worked out, but it's hard to see the hilarity when it's all still happening.

Places I've found inspiration through it all? Housemates and friends. Professors that know my name. Videos of babies hula-hooping. I can't put into words how meaningful it was for me to have a professor that expresses some level of caring about me as a student or, even better, as a person. It was almost shocking to me, but it has been a defining part of my undergrad experience.

I hope this didn't come off as some kind of plea for pity. I meant it more to paint a picture of the world that lies before those graduating this semester. Let us be poor. Let us complain. Let us be bushy-tailed and bright-eyed about our aspirations. If you find yourself losing hope, go on a tour of something. A brewery, a museum, a network station, anything! We're too young to give up already. One thing that you can expect of me in 20 years: I'm going to help the shit out of some poor, jobless college student. Hold on to your hats.

Blogger's Block

I am suffering from writer's block. I have stayed up very late trying to be interesting but have failed. I'll be back to write something very soon.

In the mean time, follow me on twitter (those updates to the right). I've been updating that. Apologies for my excessive absence.

Hell Week

I've been off the blogosphere for a bit, but if you're on Twitter, you know that I'm far from absent from the internet. I'll be fully back on the radar in a few days. And I mean, back. This semester handed me a whoopin', and I plan to enjoy whatever Senior Spring is left.

This week is surely the most demanding of my college career in terms of projects and tests, but I have survived so far with decent amounts of sleep. I took my second test of the week today, the very last test of my Georgetown career! I shook hands with my professor in congratulatory celebration. I completed one of my audio projects on Sunday, which you can listen to on MySpace Music. Check it out if you're curious and haven't already seen it on facebook and Twitter.

All I have left is my radio doc on Strivers' Section/St. Augustine's and my thesis. I'm trying to keep up the momentum. Friday = salvation.

I will cease with the boring recap, but hopefully I'll be blogging about something of interest next time. Emotions about unemployed graduation? Hopefully, I'll be blogging out life as an intern. I'm crossing my fingers.

Catholic Reflections and Such

I just wrote what was supposed to be a review of a music performance at a church, but it ended up being a scathing indictment of Catholicism (read: Pope Benedict XVI). I'm feeling pretty satisfied for a Friday night.

Sorry to everyone for not blogging in two weeks. I had an onslaught of assignments and a new mutation of my four-week cold following my Spring Break in LA. Now I am down to the nitty gritty of graduating. My three major projects are 1.) my NPR-style radio piece; 2.) my new song; and 3.) my thesis for Political Economy.

While parts of each one can be pleasantly gratifying, all together they can be frustrating. I traveled to St. Augustine's Church at 15th and V Streets twice in the past week to observe mass and record some live sound. I also walked around the surrounding historic district, Strivers' Section (picture above). It's been quite a long time since I've set foot in a Catholic Church, omitting cultural tourism of course. It was a surreal experience in that everything was so familiar there. I was sucked into a world where I felt comfortable, where I knew what happened next. If I was magically reactivating my Catholicism, I would go to St. Augustine's each week. Their Gospel Choir and Chorale are fantastic, and I've never before felt so welcomed in a new place. That said, I couldn't help but scribble all my frustrations about the Catholic Church in my notebook during the homily. My views about the Church haven't changed, but my views of the people in the Church have. For now, I'm treating Catholicism like a plate of hors’dourves . I'll take what I like and spit out the rest. Bad analogy?

In my last post, I wrote that my dream job exists. Well, it may exist, but it's not easy to get. I knew that before, but the point is being hammered home each and every day. I go through waves of confidence and inspiration. Meet one person one day and soar on a high of hope. One week later, I'm back down on earth and sifting through the realities of post-graduation unemployment.

My house has been afflicted with the jobless blues, and it's been pretty noticeable. Each week, we prop one another up in our down times. The next week, it's someone else that needs some cheering up. I may be biased here, but we are some kick ass ladies. We are pre-med English majors, Nursing majors that have delivered babies, and Culture & Politics majors that know the location and independence date of countries I have never even heard of. And of course, I am a Political Economy and Music major. We are amazing.

Easter Break is just around the corner. Thank you, Catholic education. I'll be heading up to Boston for some family time. For all those are unfortunate enough to work on Holy Thursday and Good Friday, remember: the Pope hates condoms. I don't get it either...

Post-Spring Break Recap

I'm back from LA and in a brief reflection, let me sum up the things I've learned:

1.) My dream job exists, and it exists in many forms. Whew.

2.) I can make my fortune in NYC rather than LA and still pursue my dream job.

3.) I'm a badass driver.*

*with the aid of a GPS device

I went to LA fearing that I'd be told it was the only place where I'll have the chance to work in music. True, LA is THE epicenter of film, so film music probably won't be an opportunity outside of LA. But NYC is a mecca for music and even tv, and I was encouraged by many head haunchos that I could find success in NYC. Massive sigh of relief.

LA is not an unfriendly place. I exchanged smiles with more strangers than I can remember and even had a random chat or two with Assistants and and fellow lost wanderers in parking garages. However, more than NYC, I feel that LA is a place where a book is judged by its cover. Look cool or die trying. I'm sure many do.

I loved that LA had guitar shops everywhere. Guitar Center, Sam Ash, McCabe's, and more! McCabe's didn't have the ukulele of my dreams, but it did have an Irish bouzouki. When I saw The Magnetic Fields perform at Lisner Auditorium, Stephen Merritt used a string instrument that sounded clangy like a mandolin but resounded like a guitar. And now (hurrah!) I know its name. Bouzouki, be mine? After I get a job, after I get a job.

Speaking of music, I posted a new song on my Myspace that I actually recorded with Pro Tools and some decent gear. Some of it was recorded or written in haste, but I'm overall happy with it. I'm seeing two nights of the Georgetown's Festival In-Residence "Schubert, Schubert, Schubert" concert this weekend. It's apparently a big deal and features the Auryn Quartet. I'm excited to hear some Haydn live!

Alright. Back to the grind. After next Tuesday, I hope to follow through on promises to hang out with people! Get ready.

Spring Break

Since I last wrote, things are looking up. I met with a librarian and secured a dataset from the International Telecommunications Union. Massive sigh of relief. I've seen the data put to work in recent articles too. Did you know that 60% of the world owns a cell phone? I'll be cranking out some research next week as my March 24th deadline nears, but for now, I'm trying to relax as much as I can.

This week is Georgetown's Spring Break, and I'm in LA for GEMA's (Georgetown Entertainment & Media Alliance) week-long networking event. While friends are skiing in fresh Colorado powder or tanning in Costa Rica, I'm braving the concrete jungle. So far the driving hasn't been too terrible. I'm armed with a trusty GPS and more importantly, I've got my mom in the passenger seat. She won't be with me the whole week, but it's nice to have her here with me for a little bit.

LA isn't really the type of place where you can just "walk around." It's barely the type of place where you can just drive around. I knew that coming in, but still wasn't quite prepared for the landscape I was confronted with. Even so, the weather is beautiful and I'm hoping to squeeze in some fun while I'm here. I'm stopping into McCabe's Guitar Shop today for some fun browsing of folk instruments.

I better get going. The concrete jungle awaits...

Me vs. Thesis, Round 1: Thesis

Life overall has decreased in stressfulness since I last posted. In one respect, though, I'm still shaking in my shoes. I'm haunted by my thesis. Tonight while taking a shower, I thought, "Well, at least if I fail my thesis class, I'll at least graduate with one major." This is hopefully an exaggeration, but I feel a bit like the underdog in this battle.

I have a thesis question that was approved and discussed with my TA and professor. After meeting with another professor who does relevant research, I'm not so sure I can actually answer my own question! Correction. I could answer it, but the answer would be meaningless and unsubstantiated. So... I need to change the question slightly. On the bright side, I've met my first warm and welcoming Econ professor at Georgetown, and he's offered to give me assistance on this thesis journey. Thank you, God.

I can do it, I can do it, blah, blah, blah. Writing this thesis is not as simple as sitting down, reading some literature, and writing 30 pages about it. I could do that. It's about finding a (free) dataset, running a regression in a statistical program, and writing about my results. Several problems arise here. 1.) I currently can't find a free dataset. 2.) I'm not sure from dataset descriptions which datasets will be most useful. 3.) After I find the dataset, I anticipate struggling to input it into STATA. 4.) I will inevitably see alarming statistical problems that invalidate my results.

Blurgh, as Tina Fey would say. Blurgh and a half. Every once in a while, I come to an obstacle in academia that I can't wrap my mind around. For Calculus, it was Taylor and Mclaurin series. For Econ, it looks like its performing statistical regressions.

I'm trying to be proactive in in this epic struggle. I'm meeting with a librarian tomorrow to discuss datasets. I'm also instituting a daily 8:30AM wake-up call. Let's get ready to rumbbbbble! It's thesis time.

This only makes graduating easier. I will not miss this.

Another Blog!

FYI, I write about music/tech/law issues on a weekly basis at Music Biz Blog. It's part of my tutorial on music business in the digital age. Enjoy and happy reading!

Batsh*t Crazy

Sorry for lack of posts, readers. I have been swamped with too much activity, and I'm feeling the poise I had first semester melt away. I've hung in there so far, but I don't think I can inch so closely to due dates for much longer. The work is not too hard, far from it. It's just too much.

I am an advocate of working from home. I churn out my best writing and complete my most focused reading sitting at my desk in front of my lap top. I can talk to myself out loud (a pseudo- only child syndrome), I can snack whenever I want to, and I can listen to music without headphones. I listen to soothing study music; music that comforts me or reminds me of my past. This semester, my ch'i (qi) has been interrupted. Two of my classes require I leave the sanctity of my room to complete assignments in the production studio. Another two require I complete listening assignments of music that neither calms me nor reminds me of anything aside for the homework I yet to complete. In addition, I'm writing a thesis I have trouble caring about. I live due date to due date with little inspiration in between. And it's not that I don't want to care. It's that there is no time to care.

I am not at peace! I am away from my cozy house for more hours in a day than I prefer. I'm completing assignments that take hours each, as I fiddle with software, microphones, and plead with the Gelardin Media Library staff. It's not that I didn't know that I'd have listening assignments or that I'd have to use the Production Studio when I signed up and decided to go for the double major. It's that I didn't sum these things up. I didn't anticipate how, combined, they would drive me crazy.

What keeps me sane are nights in. After 9 hours of work on a Saturday, I'd rather watch some tv than go out. St. Elmo's Fire on Hulu. Downloading episodes of The L Word. Playing some guitar. I went out last night, and I had fun. I regret not seeing friends more often. I know time is short, but I'm going crazy. I must spend more time at home. If I'm in my room, I am not doing nothing. I am recuperating. I am watching You've Got Mail. I am wearing my high school sweat pants. I am doing everything.

Don't worry, readers. I'm doing fine and even doing fun things. I saw Les Mis for the first time on Friday for my housemate's birthday! I went to amazing DC Policy Day put on by Future of Music Coalition! I'll be back talking about fun things soon. Until then... I'm crazy.

Busy Bee

Factors preventing me from blogging:

1.) tests
2.) thesis proposals (thesis topic... TBA)
3.) parents' weekend
4.) fancy dinners
5.) work

But hurrah! I have a cell phone. I'll hopefully be back in action Wednesday after attending Future of Music Coalition's DC Policy Day.

Loving Things: Furni Creations

As most of you know, I'm a lover of things. I love bikes, watches, sneakers, sunglasses, etc. This is not to be confused with a love of brand names; I just love the aesthetics of things.

This is why I recently purchased the Farmer watch, a collaboration between Cool Hunting and Furni Creations. It caught my eye when it was spotlighted at Cool Hunting, one of my favorite blogs. So white, so crisp, so delicious. Since living in London, I've worn a watch everyday and have slowly accumulated a few. This was the perfect addition to my small collection. I slapped it on my wrist, set the time, and delighted in my time warp back to the 80s. A week later, I noticed it was running slow.

I sent an email to Furni owner Mike Giles, and he graciously offered to send me a replacement. Two weeks later, I'm delighting in my bright red Raised By Wolves watch.

I like to support independent designers like Furni, but even more, I like stellar customer service. This sounds like a cheap plug for Furni, but I'm just reveling in the fact that I was treated so well. Lesson learned: buy from companies you're passionate about. And if you're not passionate about companies, well, start getting fired up.

Disclaimer: I've worked part-time in retail for the past 4 years. And I love things.

Snowy DC

I woke up yesterday to a pretty blanket of snow outside and took this picture of the view from my front door. My neighborhood looked particularly quaint with the snow obscuring the shabbiness that inevitably characterizes a college neighborhood. Today, the scene is less picturesque. Snow is now "freezing rain," and there's a hard shell on the fallen powder that reminds me of the burnt sugar of crème brulée.

A brief recap of Inauguration Day: It was an incredibly cold day, and my feet were blocks of ice from standing but as many have said before me, it was moving to see so many Americans (and even foreigners) bearing the cold to witness history. Everyone was friendly and supportive of one another, joking about the weather and shaking strangers' hands after Obama was sworn in. People were silent during Pastor Rick Warren's speech, a respectful gesture considering the controversy surrounding his participation in inauguration. There were a lot of boos for Joe Lieberman and some jeers here and there for President Bush, but even the liberal crowd discouraged it. I've now been to two consecutive inaugurations, which is strange to think about. I certainly didn't plan this out.

Well, this was an exercise in procrastination for studying for a test on Baroque music tomorrow. More to come later this week. I'm seeing Lykke Li at Sixth & I Synagogue on Saturday night!

Tired

The inauguration has thrown off my game. Or rather, the ensuing fatigue has. I skipped a class today to do homework for tomorrow's class in order to go to the West Virginia game tonight where Hoyas lost terribly to the Mountaineers and I lost my cell phone. Blurgh.

Things could be worse, but I couldn't be more excited for the weekend to arrive.

On a random note, I've been watching St. Elmo's Fire in bits and pieces, and I've become obsessed with the Love Theme. I seem to be 22 years too late for this sensation.

Pre-Inauguration Recap

I am absolutely exhausted from the Inauguration events of this past weekend, but I was thrilled that I was in DC to witness all of it happening. Still, it took a little effort to participate in everything. I think everyone kind of had to nudge themselves along at 5 o'clock in the morning, reminding themselves that Obama's inauguration was worth hours of standing in freezing temperatures.

Inauguration festivities began on Sunday with the "We Are One" pre-Inauguration Concert at the Lincoln Memorial. The Washington Post reported that Bruce Springsteen, Beyonce, and James Taylor were performing. They were... as well as Stevie Wonder, U2, John Mellencamp, Pete Seger, Shakira, Usher, Sheryl Crow, John Legend, Patti LaBelle, John Bon Jovi, Josh Groban, Garth Brooks, Mary J. Blige, will.i.am, Herbie Hancock, and Renée Fleming. I named them all for dramatic effect. How could I not go to this thing? I left the house with my housemates around 7AM to walk to the Mall armed with 3 layers of pants, 5 layers of shirts and jackets, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a deck of cards. The concert started at 2PM and we arrived a little after 8AM.

The hours went by slowly, but the good company provided plenty of conversation and warm bodies to cuddle with. There was minimal pushing and medium levels of hostility in the crowd. Making your way to a port-a-potty was treacherous and nerve-racking, but once there, you'd have a friendly stranger to chat with. Good luck finding your way back though; after a certain point, leaving the group to pee meant certain abandonment.

The concert was not without flubs. The sound system echoed horribly once it actually began working. We couldn't hear the opening blessing by Bishop Gene Robinson and chanted "Turn it up!" with thousands of frustrated onlookers. Bruce Springsteen opened the concert with an acoustic version of "The Rising" with a choir. Luckily, sound was restored shortly after he began, and we all settled down to sing along and listen.

On the whole, the concert was a major success. Performers sang relevant favorites: John Mellencamp sang "Pink Houses"; Mary J. Blige did "Lean on Me"; Stevie Wonder performed "Higher Ground; James Taylor performed "Shower the People"; U2 played "Pride (In the Name of Love)." Bizarrely, Garth Brooks was a favorite with his renditions of "American Pie" and "Twist and Shout"; we just needed to sing and dance the chills out, I guess.

If the list of performers isn't overwhelming enough, let me list the celebrities who spoke briefly between sets: Tom Hanks, Samuel L. Jackson, Ashley Judd, Forrest Whitacre, Steve Carrell, Jamie Foxx, Laura Linney, Martin Luther King III, Jack Black, Rosario Dawson, George Lopez, Tiger Woods, Queen Latifah, and Marissa Tomei. Whew. Not to mention, Joe Biden and Obama gave brief speeches too!

I was skeptical about cramming so many diverse performers into one concert. Shakira's inclusion was slightly confusing, but otherwise, the diversity was an asset: patriotism wove through each and every performance.

Still, the concert was not without controversy. Opera singer Renée Fleming was not introduced, although the US Naval Academy's Glee Club, who backed her, was. Similarly, singer Josh Groban was introduced while the the DC Men's Gay Chorus who backed him was mysteriously left out. In another strike against the gays, HBO edited out the Inauguration Committee told HBO that concert events started at 2:30, resulting in the exclusion of the opening prayer by gay Bishop Gene Robinson from New Hampshire from their tv broadcast. Perhaps it was more than a poor sound system that muted Robinson's prayer from an audience of 750,000 at the Mall? Ok, probably not. I exaggerate. Still, that's a double whammy against the gays in a highly orchestrated event; surely, the exclusion was not merely a misstep.

Alright. I'll recap my thoughts on MLK festivities and Inauguration Day for another time. I've got to get to the homework that I've been neglecting.

Early

I haven't been updating, because second semester senior year has been crazier than I expected. Right now, I'm heading out the door to the inauguration concert. Wish me warm!

Expelled from Facebook?

I was just brainstorming a bit to come up with an idea for a post. I thought about winter break and the upcoming semester. I considered the job hunt that lay ahead. And then I decided to check facebook. I was met with this!
Comedian Michael Ian Black recently posted a rant, "Hey Facebook, What the Fuck?," about the shutdown of his account. He writes:

"How am I supposed to receive invitations to events to which I have no interest in attending? How am I supposed to keep up with what various high school students I have never met are doing? How am I supposed to install and then uninstall various applications because they are annoying?"

He pokes fun at the excessiveness of facebook, and there's definitely some truth in it. I, however, am not the pillar of strength of Michael Ian Black. I need my event invitations; they're good reminders. I need birthday notifications; I don't have that stuff written down on paper. I immediately emailed facebook to politely yet firmly demand the enabling of my account. I demanded justice! After some googling, I discovered that there's been a wave of disabled facebook accounts. So perhaps... I will have to live without facebook for a while.

My expulsion from facebook has prompted a deep and philosophical reflection: What does facebook mean to me? It means having a photographic record of my entire college career, albeit of poor pixel quality. It means photo-stalking people from high school whom I've lost touch with. It means publicizing my radio podcasts. It can even mean finding out if that girl on the rugby team is gay (she probably is).

I hope that my facebook account is restored, but if not, I bid farewell to facebook and my 390-something facebook friends. It's a shame too, because at least a hundred of them were real...

Alternate theory: my facebook got hacked, prompting the closing of my account. Did anyone receive bogus messages or wall posts from my account? Please let me know!

Top 25 Mashup

I will post a more substantial post about... something in the near future. But until then, Happy New Year! Here's a cool mash-up of the Top 25 Billboard singles of 2008 by DJ Earworm. They seem to blend together effortlessly, which begs the question: Were we, the listeners, boring in 2008?



Billboards' Top 25
*denotes songs that mashed up especially well
Flo Rida Featuring T-Pain - Low
Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love
Alicia Keys - No One
*Lil Wayne Featuring Static Major - Lollipop
*Timbaland Featuring OneRepublic - Apologize
Jordin Sparks Duet With Chris Brown - No Air
Sara Bareilles - Love Song
*Usher Featuring Young Jeezy - Love in This Club
Chris Brown - With You
*Chris Brown - Forever
Ray J & Yung Berg - Sexy Can I
Rihanna - Take a Bow
*Coldplay - Viva La Vida
Katy Perry - I Kissed a Girl
*T.I. - Whatever You Like
*Rihanna - Disturbia
Rihanna - Don't Stop the Music
Natasha Bedingfield - Pocketful of Sunshine
Chris Brown Featuring T-Pain - Kiss Kiss
*Ne-Yo - Closer
Colbie Caillat - Bubbly
Mariah Carey - Touch My Body
Madonna Featuring Justin Timberlake - 4 Minutes
Pink - So What
Finger Eleven - Paralyzer