I think I finally finished shooting my egg assignment. It was actually deceptively simple, assuming I did it right. I tried some different approaches, including this neat trick I learned: take a wooden skewer and carefully poke a hole on the top of the egg, then send it through to make a hole in the other side. Then, put your mouth on one hole and blow REALLY HARD. It takes a lot of blowing, but eventually the entire egg will ooze out of the other hole. (this is not suggestive of any other activity, by the way) When you're done, you'll have a nice hollow egg to play with.
On another note, I'm trying to find out where I can buy or how I can make a kilt for a reasonable price. I think it would be a very cool thing to wear. Then, I can start to learn the bagpipes.
On another another note, look at this odd website. It's not for the easily offended.
Last night I headed into Cambridge to go to the House of Blues as an "official" photographer for Color and Talea. There was some mix-up regarding permission to take photographs, but I ended up signing some release that prohibits using the photos for practically anything....I don't think I'm allowed to look at the prints either. But anyway, it was quite cool since I got to hang out with the band in the "green room" before the show and had a lot of opportunities to shoot. I ended up taking about 60 shots, and I hope some are decent. Seeing the behind the scenes stuff and booking agent squabbling certainly was interesting. If I learned anything it was that playing in a jazz trio will probably not make one a millionaire.
After the show, since I had no place to stay, the band let me stay at their place in Allston. In the middle of the night, I felt some creature on top of me, but I couldn't tell what it was. It was either a cat or a large cuddly rat that purrs when you pet it. Thankfully, it turned out to be a cute orange cat. He or she curled up next to me for the whole night for some reason.(hence the title of this entry...what did you think I meant?? you dirty people)
like any story, there's more to it than that, but some things are better left unsaid.
As I expected, I was not up to the dress code standards at the ManRay nightclub in Cambridge. I wore my security guard uniform (I even had handcuffs!). The exchange went something like this:
bouncer 1 (to bouncer 2): "Uh, is this going to work?"
bouncer 2 (looking me over with a flashlight): "No. Sorry. You're wearing green pants and brown shoes. We can't let you in. Sorry."
I guess I'm not cut out for that sort of thing. I could go back on thursday when there is no dress code. But Thursday is gay night....I wouldn't fit in there either.
Where do all the non-punk, non-goth, non-yuppie, non-eurotrash, somewhat odd people go??? Do we just stay indoors?
djwudi.com > The Long Letter > Journalistic Integrity at its finest I thought this was pretty funny. I would just copy it, but I'm trying out this Trackback thing that MovableType uses. nifty, but how does it work?
I take back those things I said about being proud to live in Lawrence.....But first, where did I leave off?
Oh yes. I ended up going to Winchester to jam with Nathan, the fretless guitarist. We played some very strange, "out", atonal stuff. It was the weirdest stuff I've ever played, but it was interesting regardless. He's into "microtonal" melodies and unusual time signatures. I'm sure we'll jam again (since I forgot my hat at his place).
Then, I went back into Boston and met up with Judy and John to take a trip to the MFA. I'm just glad the admission was free.
Finally, I made it to NESOP and developed film and printed some awful things. I don't know what was going wrong, but everything looked like crap to me. And I'm supposed to have a few more prints for class tomorrow. *sigh*
I got out of there late, and for some reason, I was compelled to have a conversation with Jehae. Even though I keep trying to tell myself to forget about her, I can't. And it was a very emotional conversation. It pains me to see how easily she's been able to forget about me, but I can't say I blame her.
By the time that was over, I was emotionally drained and just plain tired. And since it was probably too late to make the last train out of town, I had to find a place to sleep. After a pointless trek to Allston and back, I finally settled on the College of Arts and Sciences building. I've slept there twice before, and it is not pleasant. But it beats sleeping outside. So, I slept on one of the couches, with my bass firmly held between my legs, my head resting against the neck as a pillow, and my backpack strap wrapped around my neck just in case someone tried to steal it. I was so tired that I mostly ignored the janitors that clean all night, and I woke up only several times. I got up around 7:45 -- just in time to move on before classes started. So, I got about 6 hours sleep. not bad.
Oh, and when I got off the train in Lawrence, I was pleasantly surprised to see that no one stole my bike. But then I noticed that someone slashed both tires (which cost about $40 each) and stole the toolkit I had in the saddle pouch (another $40). Thanks! So, I walked home, with my bass, and my backpack, and my bike with two flat tires.