I posted something over at sp² about my Vicks-caused problems with breathing deeply. And I was thinking about our dependency on things we don't need and that we think is there to improve our lives--coffee, sleepless delirium, alcohol, or even tea with special herbs in it.
All of the singers I've worked with (playing piano for them) have been sick half the time I practice with them. Why is this? Well, this should be completely irrelevant, but if you learn how to breathe with your diaphragm (I don't know the difference between that and the stomach haha), which offers you a deeper breath, why bother breathing with your chest? Oooooooops, you need to be able to breathe with that too!
I think I'm getting a high from the deep breathing I just forced myself to do. And from "Burn For You (Shortwave Radio Mix)" by tobyMac which is just about the only good Christian pop song from the 2000s I've ever heard. (I know there are other good ones, but nobody's pointed them out to me.) This song talks about feeling high from "you," which presumably refers to God. It's always funny to think about how the "you" could easily mean someone else (the grammar here assumes God = jesus christ = human = someone).
I'm hearing things differently now. Things are clearing up. Woooohooo, high from fresh air. Or, rather, just more of it. Mmm, some simple things give me such pleasure. And you wonder why I don't drink or smoke or really go out looking to get laid.
That's a great thing.
And now, I will return to the title of the post:
Breathing.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Blog about you, bling about you
---this part Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I'm bored. Oh so bored. Makes me want to take a picture of you. Makes me wonder.
Where's the cunning linguist in me? I guess I got cured. Well, well, uhh, I can't say for sure that I'm on the right path. But I think today I can start wondering.
Wonder what it'll be like in France. In Paris. Wonder--will I be able to sit outside at a café and read leisurely? Since when do I ever cross my legs and read leisurely? Well, I'll try. But when the winter comes, I'll be inside, staring out the window at the cold air and busy scene...
And then comes the dawn, with the activity already begun. I guess I'll wake up whenever I want to, or whenever my host family, if I have one, serves breakfast. Either way, the city will be moving without my help. It'll be going to and fro, people with their heads wary, tourists with their feet slow. This room's not great for ABBA acoustics.
Why can't I remember a Paris sunset? Is Paris really that beautiful? Who will I meet? Who will I be with? What's the deal with having to dress up all the time? Are courses in French really that scary considering what I know already? Will reading in French be a pain in the ass?
I'll stop asking questions and just imagine myself there, the dawn over, lunch break in. Back into the house, for some (hopefully) good cuisine, or if not, at a nice little restaurant or café. My classes over, I converse with my (host) family, or someone I know, in French. In French. In French, in French, in French. I wander about and try to find shit to do. I check out the "scene," maybe. Maaaaaaayyybeee....
The day over, I find the weekend and I find myself in a train. I wander to another corner of Paris where I think I can find something interesting, or ... where on earth would I go? I meet someone for a date, maybe a nice American like me? Haha, who knows. Going on dates with French people is a bad idea, not for stupid racist reasons but only because I don't live there and don't plan to do so.
I gaze at the Seine and wonder what's so romantic about it. In the moonlight, it's fuckin' cold. Unless the spring brought some warm air; but that's unlikely, since don't you remember how close we are to the sea? I think about the Rhône for no real reason. I think about the shit I have to read, and I think that I hope I enjoy what it is. I think about my Urban Sociology course, either relieved or distressed about getting a good grade in it. Those crazy French courses with their final-only grades.
I think about romance. I think about where I belong and who I belong with.
And maybe I'm not in Paris. Maybe I've taken the TGV to somewhere distant; can you get to the mountains from Paris? Maybe I've traveled to somewhere else on the continent. But I'm not really a big fan of that; I don't really want to go to England, or Rome, or Estonia. No real reason to do so.
Maybe I'm in the gym or outside, running. Running from my lack of a build. I stop and I walk around and I sit down below the Eiffel Tower. I'm ALWAYS BELOW THE EIFFEL TOWER.
What?
The air is so breezy, it's lovely. And irritating when it's cold. But wait, I have to choose one of the two, for it's this moment and nothing else I'm writing about. The waves on the Seine struggle to show. Random European dance music echoes in an alley and out onto the streets. Cars hesitate to run over pedestrians. The sidewalk is for PEOPLE.
I'm cold, but I can go anywhere and just feel warm in an instant. Is that true? Yeah, the bars are open and I'M TWENTY-ONE! And it doesn't matter. Nobody knows the drinking age in France, and nobody cares. Give me a Heineken and throw your wine in the river. I eat pretzels, a rare mediocre food in Paris...
Am I running out of things already? Give me a beer. Okay. I'll hit on him. Dammit, he's French. The music plays. It is jazz or classical or a fusion of two other genres. A nonexistent youth listens to 50 Cent and K-MARO on his iPod playlist.
Okay. I'm tired. Let's go to Japan.
Hold on, let's not. I liked it here, despite all of that. I saw a comedy or two, I read a book or two, I learned a lot of you, Paris. I began to understand you, after so long!!! ...
What's the deal with love? Where is it and what is it, more precisely?
Laundry time.
---this part Friday, January 25, 2008
What happens when you realize that you came here and expected to get something that you didn't get? (What exactly? Let me quote T.I.: "You know what it i...") Well, what happened when I realized that is that I was like, where am I going to be able to accomplish that abroad? It's a stupid thing to think about, but I'm going to be honest: the whole study thing is great, but I'm done thinking about that. Time to think about this. I couldn't decide between one place or the other based upon the academics.
One thing I'll certainly miss if I go to Paris is the luxury of being able to wear whatever I want. In Paris, you are expected to be chic, male or female. The word "slob" is a French one too, you know. It would be a growing-up experience. Or a sucking-up experience. Let me put it this way. Clothes are already expensive over there--well, everything's expensive over there. But at least with the food you get your money's worth. With the clothes, just, what. At least the politeness only goes really as far as le vouvoiement (using "vous," the formal "you," when appropriate) and your clothes. With Japan, the politeness is involved in everything with the language. Not so much with clothing, though, and for some reason I think that's better?
I'm not really sure I want to write a thesis for French. About what? Honestly, I don't think I could write sixty pages about Surrealism. It's a much simpler thing than people give it credit to be... and will there really be anything literary that I'll suddenly get interested in? I highly doubt it. Therefore, although writing a thesis in French would probably be more impressive and involve MUCH easier research (French literary critics know how to write. American literary critics really don't. It's the truth), I think I'll go for Japanese. But do I really want to write a thesis (which'd be in English) for Japanese? Hmm. It wouldn't be that bad, now that I think about it. I've still got a lot to learn, but, but... I'd have learned something by then. Hmm. Speaking Japanese is hard, but... well, speaking is much easier than listening or reading.
I've become a lot more American than I thought I ever would be. I support fucking Ron Paul for president. Part of me really loves America, and precisely for its customs and its culture, ignoring some of the flaws. But I mean, whenever you're in any country you're supposed to look at the good side for a good while, and that's what I've been doing. It doesn't mean I can prevent myself from seeing the bad sides, and I should be seeing them; honestly, everyone in every family, dogs included, has an SUV nowadays, and they're all complaining about gas prices? How about you elect someone who'll actually get you out of Iraq before you complain about gas prices? Still. America I'll be leaving for a year, and that makes me a little sad. Nonetheless, I'ma be back...
What use is French to me? I don't know. It makes me confident that I can do something? And wouldn't it be a waste not to use the language in which I'm approaching fluency?
I dunno. I'm listening to one of the most powerful Japanese songs I've ever heard right now: "Same" by Tsukiko Amano. "Same" means "shark." It's pretty ridiculous and pretty good. As far as music goes, France can't touch this. But at least I can come close to understanding French lyrics...
I miss my view last year. I used to be able to look out the window onto the street as I listened to india.arie's "Summer" and just imagine winter being away. I used to at least have a view. The train came roaring by every now and then, reminding us that there was a life outside of this reclusive dorm floor we knew as the 4th-floor Hill Hall. Now I have shit for a view. And a slight headache.
Anyway- French. French is not the most "useful" language. If I were to go into academia, I would probably end up teaching in a high school. College-level academia doesn't really need non-native speakers... especially not those that don't read like it's their business. I don't read like it's my business. I read like it's my ...
French could be useful for math. But it's unlikely... I could just tell the math people that I speak French and show good evidence of this-- I was taking 191 and I got a good grade! That should work, right?
Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna write a thesis for French. I'll just take grad math courses. Math is better anyway?
I DON'T KNOW!
"TOKYO!"
Yeah, okay. Kanazawa.
I'm bored. Oh so bored. Makes me want to take a picture of you. Makes me wonder.
Where's the cunning linguist in me? I guess I got cured. Well, well, uhh, I can't say for sure that I'm on the right path. But I think today I can start wondering.
Wonder what it'll be like in France. In Paris. Wonder--will I be able to sit outside at a café and read leisurely? Since when do I ever cross my legs and read leisurely? Well, I'll try. But when the winter comes, I'll be inside, staring out the window at the cold air and busy scene...
And then comes the dawn, with the activity already begun. I guess I'll wake up whenever I want to, or whenever my host family, if I have one, serves breakfast. Either way, the city will be moving without my help. It'll be going to and fro, people with their heads wary, tourists with their feet slow. This room's not great for ABBA acoustics.
Why can't I remember a Paris sunset? Is Paris really that beautiful? Who will I meet? Who will I be with? What's the deal with having to dress up all the time? Are courses in French really that scary considering what I know already? Will reading in French be a pain in the ass?
I'll stop asking questions and just imagine myself there, the dawn over, lunch break in. Back into the house, for some (hopefully) good cuisine, or if not, at a nice little restaurant or café. My classes over, I converse with my (host) family, or someone I know, in French. In French. In French, in French, in French. I wander about and try to find shit to do. I check out the "scene," maybe. Maaaaaaayyybeee....
The day over, I find the weekend and I find myself in a train. I wander to another corner of Paris where I think I can find something interesting, or ... where on earth would I go? I meet someone for a date, maybe a nice American like me? Haha, who knows. Going on dates with French people is a bad idea, not for stupid racist reasons but only because I don't live there and don't plan to do so.
I gaze at the Seine and wonder what's so romantic about it. In the moonlight, it's fuckin' cold. Unless the spring brought some warm air; but that's unlikely, since don't you remember how close we are to the sea? I think about the Rhône for no real reason. I think about the shit I have to read, and I think that I hope I enjoy what it is. I think about my Urban Sociology course, either relieved or distressed about getting a good grade in it. Those crazy French courses with their final-only grades.
I think about romance. I think about where I belong and who I belong with.
And maybe I'm not in Paris. Maybe I've taken the TGV to somewhere distant; can you get to the mountains from Paris? Maybe I've traveled to somewhere else on the continent. But I'm not really a big fan of that; I don't really want to go to England, or Rome, or Estonia. No real reason to do so.
Maybe I'm in the gym or outside, running. Running from my lack of a build. I stop and I walk around and I sit down below the Eiffel Tower. I'm ALWAYS BELOW THE EIFFEL TOWER.
What?
The air is so breezy, it's lovely. And irritating when it's cold. But wait, I have to choose one of the two, for it's this moment and nothing else I'm writing about. The waves on the Seine struggle to show. Random European dance music echoes in an alley and out onto the streets. Cars hesitate to run over pedestrians. The sidewalk is for PEOPLE.
I'm cold, but I can go anywhere and just feel warm in an instant. Is that true? Yeah, the bars are open and I'M TWENTY-ONE! And it doesn't matter. Nobody knows the drinking age in France, and nobody cares. Give me a Heineken and throw your wine in the river. I eat pretzels, a rare mediocre food in Paris...
Am I running out of things already? Give me a beer. Okay. I'll hit on him. Dammit, he's French. The music plays. It is jazz or classical or a fusion of two other genres. A nonexistent youth listens to 50 Cent and K-MARO on his iPod playlist.
Okay. I'm tired. Let's go to Japan.
Hold on, let's not. I liked it here, despite all of that. I saw a comedy or two, I read a book or two, I learned a lot of you, Paris. I began to understand you, after so long!!! ...
What's the deal with love? Where is it and what is it, more precisely?
Laundry time.
---this part Friday, January 25, 2008
What happens when you realize that you came here and expected to get something that you didn't get? (What exactly? Let me quote T.I.: "You know what it i...") Well, what happened when I realized that is that I was like, where am I going to be able to accomplish that abroad? It's a stupid thing to think about, but I'm going to be honest: the whole study thing is great, but I'm done thinking about that. Time to think about this. I couldn't decide between one place or the other based upon the academics.
One thing I'll certainly miss if I go to Paris is the luxury of being able to wear whatever I want. In Paris, you are expected to be chic, male or female. The word "slob" is a French one too, you know. It would be a growing-up experience. Or a sucking-up experience. Let me put it this way. Clothes are already expensive over there--well, everything's expensive over there. But at least with the food you get your money's worth. With the clothes, just, what. At least the politeness only goes really as far as le vouvoiement (using "vous," the formal "you," when appropriate) and your clothes. With Japan, the politeness is involved in everything with the language. Not so much with clothing, though, and for some reason I think that's better?
I'm not really sure I want to write a thesis for French. About what? Honestly, I don't think I could write sixty pages about Surrealism. It's a much simpler thing than people give it credit to be... and will there really be anything literary that I'll suddenly get interested in? I highly doubt it. Therefore, although writing a thesis in French would probably be more impressive and involve MUCH easier research (French literary critics know how to write. American literary critics really don't. It's the truth), I think I'll go for Japanese. But do I really want to write a thesis (which'd be in English) for Japanese? Hmm. It wouldn't be that bad, now that I think about it. I've still got a lot to learn, but, but... I'd have learned something by then. Hmm. Speaking Japanese is hard, but... well, speaking is much easier than listening or reading.
I've become a lot more American than I thought I ever would be. I support fucking Ron Paul for president. Part of me really loves America, and precisely for its customs and its culture, ignoring some of the flaws. But I mean, whenever you're in any country you're supposed to look at the good side for a good while, and that's what I've been doing. It doesn't mean I can prevent myself from seeing the bad sides, and I should be seeing them; honestly, everyone in every family, dogs included, has an SUV nowadays, and they're all complaining about gas prices? How about you elect someone who'll actually get you out of Iraq before you complain about gas prices? Still. America I'll be leaving for a year, and that makes me a little sad. Nonetheless, I'ma be back...
What use is French to me? I don't know. It makes me confident that I can do something? And wouldn't it be a waste not to use the language in which I'm approaching fluency?
I dunno. I'm listening to one of the most powerful Japanese songs I've ever heard right now: "Same" by Tsukiko Amano. "Same" means "shark." It's pretty ridiculous and pretty good. As far as music goes, France can't touch this. But at least I can come close to understanding French lyrics...
I miss my view last year. I used to be able to look out the window onto the street as I listened to india.arie's "Summer" and just imagine winter being away. I used to at least have a view. The train came roaring by every now and then, reminding us that there was a life outside of this reclusive dorm floor we knew as the 4th-floor Hill Hall. Now I have shit for a view. And a slight headache.
Anyway- French. French is not the most "useful" language. If I were to go into academia, I would probably end up teaching in a high school. College-level academia doesn't really need non-native speakers... especially not those that don't read like it's their business. I don't read like it's my business. I read like it's my ...
French could be useful for math. But it's unlikely... I could just tell the math people that I speak French and show good evidence of this-- I was taking 191 and I got a good grade! That should work, right?
Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna write a thesis for French. I'll just take grad math courses. Math is better anyway?
I DON'T KNOW!
"TOKYO!"
Yeah, okay. Kanazawa.
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