I like it that the garage across the road has
All work carried out by… Qualified Tradespersons
painted on its windows. As though, despite the fact that they’re an all-male workplace, they’ve everything in place, ready for their first female mechanic or panel beater. I can imagine them making sure they have one of those pink bins in the toilet and practicing their collaborative meaning making and affirming noises in conversation.
If only the internets could learn from their example.
Cooked a large piece of meat in milk for a long period of time. Pork, chicken, whatever. I’ll cook it, you can eat it.
While searching blindly in my backpack, felt something soft and hanky-like, pulled it out and discovered it was a single maxi-sized pad*. This has happened: at the bi-lo checkout with a middle aged woman cashier, trying to pay for bread with a cocky indie boy salesman, rummaging for cables at the DJ booth while sitting next to a very-christian tech-dood (this happened twice in one weekend with two different christians), looking for a hanky, desperately, while trying to obscure a post-sneeze-excitement nose. The one time I actually _needed_ a maxi (as in badASS absorbency) pad I couldn’t find the fucker.
Played more than one song from The Spoon Concert album while DJing for a bunch of spazzed out lindy hoppers. It’s like a sickness. Not the lindy hop – my playing stuff from this album. I just can’t help it. I need to get some sort of clue.
Wandered why mormons bother with plural marriage** where the arrangement is one man + many women. While I know that many women is a fully sick option when you’re looking at running a conference or a university degree or planning a lindy exchange, I’d have thought the ideal solution is one woman + many men within a marriage. Because I sure as fuck know The Squeeze is run a little ragged riding back and forth between the couch and DVD shop and could do with a sub some time soon.
Thought I might like to re-watch Aliens, mostly for Bill Paxton.***
I like imagining him ranting “Game over, man, game over!” when the Law discovers he’s a polygamist.
Wandered why I didn’t believe people when they told me Veronica Mars was good. I used to enjoy that bit in Deadwood when Kristen Bell was eaten by Woo’s pigs. Now I can’t believe I wasn’t into this shit.
Wished we had broadcast TV. But only when people are tweeting like motherfuckers about freakin’ Masterchef. Whatever _that_ is.
*as in PERIODS.
**this is what happens when you re-watch Big Love.
*** Big Love, again.
The weather is fairly shit (it’s cold and rainy) and I’ve been ill with a craptastic cold since Friday, so spirits are low here at chateau de snot.
Today I finally felt a bit more normal and had managed to get a better night’s sleep last night. This cold did impede my research, but it didn’t stop me sewing yesterday. Not sewing terribly well I discovered today, but yesterday I took a lot of care and time to make a skirt that’s kind of mutant and a collared shirt that’s… well, let’s just say interesting. I am trying to get better at making collared shirts with set-in sleeves. I haven’t sewn anything in about six months, so it’s all a bit challenging. But sewing’s not really all that complicated, and it’s difficult to forget how to do it. I have made one white collared shirt so far, and it’s a bit bung. The problem really is the colour. I look really, really bad in white, and this style really doesn’t suit me – too much white fabric and too much shoulder-structure-action. Ah, well. I’ll have another bash tomorrow.
Being ill in our noisy house has finally convinced me that we probably should move somewhere quieter and on a quieter street. The Squeeze is agreed: quieter house would be good. But our house is large and has a garden and is renovated. So it’ll be a smaller (and probably crapper) quieter flat. The thought of moving is anxiety-inducing, of course, but it’ll be worth it for the chance at better nights’ sleep, uninterrupted by loud trucks. So I’ll start looking into that this week. Sigh.
We’re off to Tasmania for Devil City Swing on Monday, going a bit earlier so we can have a bit of a non-dance related holiday. I’m looking forward to just being away. There’s some dancing involved, but no major sets (one band breaks night – blurgh – and one late night – the first of the night, so not a terribly great spot). I’m sucking it up, though, as it means I’ll be able to go home earlier on the early night and the band breaks set is the DJ version of community service, I’ve decided. I’m still packing injury, having overdone it a bit with the cranky poo last week, so no – or very, very little – dancing for me over the weekend. Good thing the DCS exchange is not a hard-dancing event – there’ll be lots of people to talk to. And, if I play my cards right, plenty of little bubbies to squeeze (Hobart dancers tend to bring their bubs to dances – can I get an amen?!).
On other, DJ related fronts, I have a lindy set on Saturday night at the Roxbury, which I’m hoping will be as fun as the previous weekend, which was a big night. It was the Friday of a long weekend, though, so I can’t really expect the same size crowd. And I did have a bit of a crappy technical experience (wtf’s new about that? I have decided I suck with technical stuff – must get my learn on IMMEDIATELY to rectify this). But I am looking forward to it. I’m also down for a blues night on Sunday, which’ll be good as there’re blues workshops on that weekend. This week is also balboa week at the Bald Face Stag (urkiest venue ever), but I haven’t heard back about that. I’m up for the challenge though: one day I will be a badass balboa DJ.
I am, as a consequence, trying to get on top of my music so I can play some decent sets in the coming week. There’ll be at least four of them, possibly five, in all the major dance styles, I’m going to need to have mad skillz and a clue about my entire collection. I do have some lovely new things from emusic, though, which is always exciting. I’ve also sorted out my technical problems (knock on wood), so things should be a bit smoother. A visit to Hobart does mean, however, a trip to the best music shop in the country:
Music Without Frontiers
147 Collins St, Hobart, TAS 7000
p: (03) 6231 5411
It does not have a website. It’s also very tiny. And it has the best range of jazz I’ve ever seen in a real, live shop. And its divided into ‘nostalgia’, ‘classic’ and ‘bop’, then with a separate section for blues (subdivided into jump blues and trad blues). Then that side of the shop moves into soul and funk. It’s an absolutely fabulous collection. I’ve been there a million times, but I’ve never quite gotten to the other 3 racks of CDs. It carries _everything_: opera, country, alt., pop, etc. EVERYTHING. And the guy knows everything about each CD. He’s also a bit loopy, but then, you’d have to be. And he’s just had to deal with the opening of a JB HiFi, which sucks arses. He needs a website. He always cuts me a deal on my CDs, and is very occasionally patient when I want to preview stuff. I spend a few hundred bucks there each visit, and I see him about two times a year. And every CD I’ve bought from him has been really amazingly great. More expensive than the internets, but then I’m buying from a real person, the only person in a small city who bothers to bring quality music to the people, regardless of label or fad.
On a slightly related front, emusic has decided to fucking FAIL me just as I was getting seriously addicted. Those of you who have accounts will know that they’ve decided to carry Sony products. This means that they’re increasing prices (by a really big amount) and also limiting access only to people who are in the US or Europe. Unless you already have an account with them. This means that my 50 songs per month account, which cost me about $14.99 will now only get me 35 songs per month for the same price. There will also be – apparently – ‘<12 song album deals', where you can download an entire album for the price of 12 songs. But only on select albums. This is actually a super bargain for me, as most jazz albums (especially the older ones) are around 20 songs. But let's just wait and see which albums will be marked for the deal. I wish I'd downloaded all the Chron Classics I'd had my eye on; now they'll be far more expensive and less awesome a find. It's all a big shit, really. I've been expanding my musical purchases with emusic, particularly in terms of shopping outside jazz and blues, and in buying music from indy labels. I'll wait and see how the 12song deal goes, but I think I might ditch my emusic subscription for buying CDs from amazon or downloads and CDs from places like CDbaby.
There are far more interesting and coherent posts about the emusic changes over at flopearedmule here and here.
And I’m finally going to get my arse over to a Sydney Jazz Club gig to see some live music. Watching George Washingmachine at the recent Darling Harbour Jazz Fest (which wasn’t terribly great – stage FAIL) I was reminded of the awesome musicians in this town. None of whom we see at lindy hop gigs. But I’m going to get it together and go check out some of the hot shit in this town:
The Bechet Night: Bridge City Jazz Band – David Ridyard, Frank Watts & Nesta Davies
Friday 19th June 7:30pm
Club Ashfield – 9798 6344
Note the glorious venue: Club Ashfield. The worst freakin’ part of Sydney is the RSL/club/gambling culture. Pubs here SUCK ARSE, in part because they are so dependent on pokies and gambling for revenue. Liquour licenses are expensive, and it’s not really possible for little pubs to get by without pokies. There’s not the same community pub culture in Sydney as in Melbourne. This is a very great shame.
But I’m interested in the music. So I’ll go check it out. Anyone in the neighbourhood is welcome to join The Squeeze and I. We will not be dining in, but instead getting our noodle on in the main drag of Ashfield, which is a gastronomic universe away from the Ashfield Club. Possibly not a universe we should be occupying. Or even visiting (Gotgastro.com offers a disturbing amount of evidence).
I’m also planning on going to see the Ozcats (legends of Australian jazz) on July 31 at the Drummoyne RSL.
I have to pause at this point and say:
GET A FREAKIN WEBSITE.
And, please, not one with comic sans. Man, jazznicks are crap at internet. I feel like hiring myself out to them, if only to save myself the pain of reading their websites or having to try and find a paper jazz newsletter so I can learn about them. These guys are _so_ into social media, but the sort of social media that involve paper and nannas talking hardcore at the bar.
I am also considering a trip to the Newcastle Jazz Festival (28th-30th August). The names on the program are pretty good, but mostly, I’m thinking about a fabulous hostel I stayed at in Newcastle years ago. It’s an old, converted mansion on the beach and was just about the most fabulous hostel I’ve ever stayed in (this one, I think).
I am a big fat jazz nerd. But at least my shirts are interesting.
Yes, the dentist. Again.
I went in for a quick inspection today, and while I was fine all day, fine in the waiting room, I started to tremble in the chair. My heart was pumping so hard I was getting funny vision. I was sweating and teary and desperately wanted to bawl.
Dentist’s verdict: one small cavity to fix up next week. Root canal site of 2007: fine. Otherwise: nice mouth.
Still, I came out of there shaking and feeling faint and wanting to cry.
Goddamn that root canal of 2007. GodDAMN it.
Last night I woke up, sometime late, thinking I could taste petrol fumes. Exhaust fumes. I hate that taste – it’s the worst part of waiting for a bus on Paramatta Road or in the city. I think it was just a dream (especially since allergies have plugged my nose so I can’t smell anything), but isn’t that strange? I don’t usually dream about smells.
The Squeeze made a list of things I don’t like:
– the patriarchy
– the local McDonalds-type dance school
– high heels
– people who drive cars
Another list of things I don’t like:
– not getting paid for things
– picky eaters
– mess
– noise
He scratched the last two. When asked to list the things he doesn’t like:
– big pieces of food
and then he got distracted.
Someone should go to the shops and buy veggies. But I don’t think it’s going to be me. Yesterday I made it down to the shops for a few bits and pieces, but today I’m feeling a bit too crap to ride to Ashfield (all of fifteen minutes away, at my usual speed). Yesterday I spent about fifteen minutes walking around the video shop trying to think. I don’t want to spend time wandering around the veggie shop trying to think today.
I have a bad cold and I don’t feel so great. But Fats Waller is trying to cheer me up. He might succeed.
I don’t actually feel bad, mind you. Well, I feel rough physically, but I don’t feel bad in an emotional way. I actually feel pretty good, post-orthotic ecstacy-wise. I think I might do some hardcore jazz history research soon. I need a decent music journal. But I don’t think there’s much cultural studies work on jazz. Seeing as how it’s from the olden days. But I’ll have a look. And then I’ll write some.
There are eight doozers erecting scaffolding around the three story heritage building across the road. The doozers are making lots of noise and performing general acts of physical skill, bravery and derring do. I am choking a little on the testosterone. Soon the painters will be able to finish the top floors. But not until these doozers have finished their show.
My foot has suddenly flared up over the last week or so. I began yoga two weeks ago. The connection is irrefutable. It breaks my heart. I will see if we can amend the poses for me tonight, but for now it’s not looking so good. I’m left with just cycling for exercise. It’s not enough. I have considered swimming, but something is putting me off.
Semester starts in two weeks and I’m teaching in (yet another) giant first year introductory media/cultural studies subject. Same old, same old. But I don’t mind it – I can teach it with one hand tied behind my back, and can get on with developing some decent teaching technique, rather than worrying about learning the content.
I have to get a book read and reviewed for a journal. It’s slow because it’s not a terribly well written book and I keep distracting myself. Will do better today, though.
We are both still losing quite a bit of weight. The Squeeze more so than me. One of us needs to go buy some smaller shorts ASAP. We share a few of them, and they’re all now ridiculously big on us. Neither of us is particularly keen likes shopping for clothes at all, so it will be a race to not go. I bet it’s me at Jay Jays sometime next week.
It’s killing me to not be able to dance. Just killing me. My foot has not improved, so there’s no chance I’ll get to dance any time soon. Just walking is still painful. Back to the specialist in a week or so. Where he’ll tell me there’s nothing that we can do. I haven’t gone this long without dancing in ten years. Hell, I haven’t gone longer than one month, let alone three in all that time. I am trying not to be badly depressed about it, but I’m not doing a very good job.
Oh, the comments are back on. The Squeeze fixed it. Good on him – he rocks.
Stumbled across this bloke recently. I am highly skeptical. I smell a bit of gendered division of labour there. There is no gendered division of labour in our house at the moment. The Squeeze has to do it all (bar grocery lists and purchasing). My foot is too sore for me to vacuum or stand up long enough to clean. He is a very wonderful Squeeze.
I am spending too much time on faceplant and twitter. But then, the entire developed world is, I suspect.
You know your day to day life is small when getting a couple of loads of laundry done feels like a huge accomplishment.
Even if they were sheets.
Suddenly, I want this Western Swing classic. I know most of the songs, either via jazz or my western swing faves.
Initially recorded for a furniture company to play in their shops (!), this collected set apparently has greater live and vivacity than their other recordings. I don’t much care, so long as the band continues to remind me of the Hot Club of Cowtown… though it should be the other way around.
It isn’t as hot here in Sydney as in other cities and I have largely recovered from the world’s worst stomach virus. Three days of throwing up. Two days in bed. One day partly up and out of bed, mostly sitting or lying on the couch. Today I had a real lunch and kept it in my body. For about two hours. It was pretty cool, though – I had digestion going and everything. My ps are visiting. It’s been hard. I have been foul. But then, I am ill. They’re acclimated to Hobart and think this is hot. We know it’s not in the 40s, so we think it’s nice. Apparently it’s broken 30 in Hobart this week.
I have recently begun saving water from my showers. The Sydney water restrictions aren’t as tight or as well policed and publicised as in Melbourne, so collecting water makes me feel badass and way wicked. Also, it’s free water for our new baby plants. I have plans for a rough tomato/basil patch near the compost bin. But the seeds didn’t come from Eden Seeds, which is just plain weird. I will chase it up on Monday if I’m up to it.
Bought new songs on emusic yesterday. Suspect it’s not so good to buy music when so trashed. But it could shake my collection up a little.
Just finished Alison Bechdel’s Essential Dykes to watch out for. It’s great, as you’d expect. Have eye on Fun House.
Humidity is high. But that’s ok.