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november 5, 2001.One of these days you'll rise up singing. You'll open your wings and you'll take to the sky... My boss just gave me back my Jive Kings CD, which she's had for like 3 months now, long enough for me to forget how it goes. It's one of the smoothest recordings I've ever heard, all mellow instrumentation and excellent sound quality, and when we first played it on the way home from Stanfest, I was disappointed that it wasn't an off-the-floor recording. Seeing them play live is more exciting than their canned music, no matter how good the sound quality. But I suppose that once we go down that route, I'll expect the CD to duplicate the entire experience and that would involve titanic winds & rain, which would probably make it a chore to listen to after 3 or 4 times. It's still a beautiful CD. But I can't imagine most of my friends getting too excited about it. It's the kind of album you put on during a long drive or a nice dinner or even (god forbid!) a classy make-out session, not the kind of album you use to blow minds. Unlike "Rebuild the Wall," the Pink Floyd-as-bluegrass album we picked up that day. That does nothing but blow minds, baby.
Ugh. November is leaching my will to live, sucking my sense of purpose, excitement & happiness into its unpredictable grey maw. I can't wait until December. You know where you stand with December: wind, snow, darkness, holiday anxiety & a motherfucking cold that gets into your bones. November is like a cat that isn't sure if it wants to eat you yet. I hate November. "Get word to April to rescue me."
Life in the House of Incipient Poverty is humming along. It's a very strange mental place to be in: on the one hand, I know that until the Boy gets a job, we're facing some hard times...but on the other hand, we have enough food and entertainment to be happy right now. Our cupboards are fully stocked against the day when we may not be able to afford fresh veggies, let alone meat & milk. We've barely dug into the wonderful stuff my parents bought for us before they left after Thanksgiving, which means that every time we make a meal, we have to act prudent in the face of plenty because the plenty might not last. It's hard. But not too hard, not yet. I've only been the breadwinner for 10 days after all, and we haven't even had to make poverty soup to get through the week. I guess the biggest change is that we think about every transaction carefully before deciding what is really worth the money, but we have yet to feel any real pinch or want. The Boy's getting a bit miserly with the frozen meat, but I have to chalk that up to overzealous prudence more than anything else. And of course I'm worried a little bit every minute of the day. We have to be here for the next 6 months - then I'll graduate & get in line for a lucrative-to-me job as a substitute teacher. But now those 6 months are fraught with the big blank unknown & sometimes when I think about it I have to fight to remain calm. I lack practice with financial uncertainty; this is an excellent learning opportunity. Sure.
this time 4 years ago: the boy & how he closed his eyes when eating cheesecake |
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