the cold and the loud and they won’t let me sleep

My mum likes to whip out a saying in Chinese that literally means “plans never keep up with changes” (although it sounds more eloquent when my mum says it because in Chinese it’s a bit of a play on words).

Anyway, that maxim seems to ring true far too often in my life, and this past week has been yet another example. So besides feeling like I had messed up three out of my four exams, they were done and dusted, and everything felt great. I was ready to relax, to hit the beach, to chill in general… then the status quo at home and at the flat changes so now I have to move back home within the next week to house/cat sit for the next couple of months, and then start flat hunting again. I can’t even be bothered regurgitating statements about how bad the Auckland housing market is at the moment and how competitive the flat/rental scene is — it just ain’t pretty. Plus I hate moving. I own a lot of stuff. Which I had planned to be cull down after exams anyway, just as a general spring-clean type thing, but now I’m forced to. I get stupidly sentimental about dumb things I own and I’m far too into shoes and books (both of which are very heavy), so moving is going to be a mission. Urgh.

I guess I’m just going to have to suck it up and deal with unexpected changes. I just wished that life gave you more warnings though, you know? So you can brace yourself a little, and close your eyes for the impacts, no matter how minor. I feel like I’m always getting smacked in the face by unexpected shit when I least expect it, when I’m most vulnerable. I just wanted a break! But I’ll be packing boxes and doing some heavy lifting instead.

During the exam period, I had somehow managed to build up quite a substantial list of “things to blog about”. But I haven’t gotten around to it yet, because I’ve been too busy enjoying my short-lived carefreeness and seeing friends that are going away for almost the entirety of summer. I wish I was the one going away instead. In the meantime, here are some crap-quality iphone photos. I’m doing a photoshoot for some friends in a couple of days’ time and also need to finish a previous project, so hopefully this blog’s photo quality will be resurrected. The photo above is of Piha, on my first day of trying to learn how to surf (before the weather and waves deteriorated), and the bottom are some of the dishes I got treated to as a “yay exams are over” meal, by the boyfriend. Apparently I’m really, really into south and central American food.

if this is the life, why does it feel so good to die today? blue to gray, grow up and blow away

Labour Weekend is supposed to be a weekend spent relaxing outdoors in the sun — especially since the weather has been amazing all weekend. Or at least studying for my law exams. But nope, I’ve done neither. Instead, I’ve been mucking around and practising for my recital, and then more mucking around.

I’m really freaking out but that’s boring to talk about. So, serious stuff aside, what the hell do I wear to my own recital?! I know that sounds like a really shallow and superficial “dilemma” to have, but it’s not as straightforward as it sounds, when you’re a bass player. Plus, no one wants to hear about how I am wanting to kill myself for having picked a(n awesome) tune which has three different time signatures (3, 4 and 7).

I can’t even look to the other girls at jazz school to see what to wear because they’re all either singers or pianists, so the level of movement that I require is completely different to theirs. Bass-playing is pretty physically engaging and stage lights elevate sweating to a whole new level. I have a really nice silk blouse that I would love to wear, but the long-sleeves mean that it’s absolutely out of the question. I also don’t have any pants that aren’t jeans or sportswear, so that’s also ruled out.

What about footwear?! My patent black leather shoes now have gaping holes at the front so that each shoe has its own “mouth”. And the last thing I want to feel besides nerves and sweaty palms would be pain in my feet, so definitely no heels. Plus I’m not a singer and it’s jazz school, not the classical department, so heels aren’t unspokenly-mandatory.

This sounds silly but I went as far as to put on the outfit I thought would be most comfortable and appropriate, only to discover that anything and everything feels uncomfortable when practising with the knowledge that your recital is less than 48 hours away. I’m getting all picky and indecisive about this because I really don’t like the idea of wearing something that doesn’t feel “me” — especially when I’ve gone out on a bit of a limb with some of my tune choices and arrangements. Everything is all quite Amanda-ish and with music it’s all about how you feel and interact in the moment, so how I feel in my damn clothes are important!

Urgh, break time is over. I’ve got to go finish these charts so they will be hot off the press for rehearsal tomorrow morning.

P.S. Metric announced a show for Auckland in December. I wished it was a few days later so that my sister could go with me. I don’t know anyone else that really likes them and at $60 a pop, it’s not the sort of thing you can ask someone to “just come along”. The boyfriend swore he’d never heard them and asked how I could “love them so much” if I hadn’t listened to them in years. I pointed out that he had heard them (although, yes, hearing is different from listening) but always asked me to skip the tracks when they came on in my driving playlist, soooo yeahhh. I was thinking today that besides Emily Haines’ voice and the occasional line of lyrics I wished I’d written, I can’t actually explain why I like Metric. I think they just hold a high sentimental value for me. If they’d toured here in 2007 I would probably be happy to throw down even more hard-earned cash for their show.

but you ain’t going nowhere, why you procrastinate girl

Taken at MoMA, New York City.

This is it — there are 12 days before my recital and 19 days before my first law exam. And then, perhaps by November 13th I will be able to con myself into relaxing and not constantly refreshing the “exam results” page.

I’ve been quite sick this week (had a fever on Monday night which carried into Tuesday) and I’m going to attempt my first full-day at uni tomorrow, but it will be Friday already. Words can’t even begin to describe how stressed out I am. I know I signed up for this workload so I’ve got to see it through, but my god — how did I ever think my mind and body are supposed to come of this intact?! I’m 99.999% sure that what I’m doing is unprecedented as I’m taking the maximum law workload along with probably the most important paper in my entire jazz degree (since it includes my recital).

Anyway, to brighten my hopes a little, here is a list of things that I look forward to doing in the fortnight right after it’s all over. In no particular order:

  1. Reading. I can’t wait to read. And read. And read. Recreationally. Without guilt as to what else Ishould be reading instead (i.e. law cases and textbooks). I will read in bed, on couches, in the sun, in the breeze, outside, inside, all night long until dawn — I will read!
  2. Play hockey. I’ve been skipping summer hockey games because I need to attend other people’s recitals, or be studying or practising. I can’t wait to show up to a summer hockey game not exhausted from my long day, and get to stay late after the game drinking beers with my team. I’ll probably throw in “go to the gym” and general “exercise” here too. They don’t really warrant new points.
  3. Writing. I have so many ideas that right now merely exist in some abbreviated, bullet-pointed form all over the place — in my phone, notebook, scattered on post-it notes, etc. I can already feel that I will be turning night and day around like I do every summer — reading and writing until dawn, then collapsing when the birds start chirping. It’s going to be amazing.
  4. Drinking beer. That’s right, drinking beer gets its own bullet point here. I fucking love beer and I can’t wait to grab a box of cold beer and be popping them open in the sun, at barbecues, whilst cooking dinner. My god… nothing beats the feeling of a cold, cold beer on a hot spring/summer’s day. I’ll be scouring for sales of all the yummy, hopsy beers, mmm.
  5. Beach. I don’t really care what kind of day at the beach it is at the moment, I just want to go to the beach. Be it to read a book, write some stuff, walk around, eat an ice block, drink a beer, read some more, tan, tan, tan, maybe even swim if it’s warm enough…
  6. Spend all day with my cat. Self-explanatory.
  7. Go to the art gallery again.
  8. Take a shitton of photos. I need to get my camera fixed ASAP.
  9. Remember that I love playing music and keep doing it. It’s not actually as much of a chore as I keep telling myself it feels like.
  10. Listen to music all day and all night long.
  11. Hang out with my friends and catch up with people.
  12. This doesn’t fit within the “fortnight” criteria but oh my god I cannot wait until my sister is home in December. It will have been over a year since I last saw her by then.
  13. Do other, spontaneous, miscellaneous, unexpected, stupid stuff. (Like suddenly leave without notice, maybe?)

to gather my thoughts when I don’t know what to say

I’m doing a bad thing. I’m sitting in bed with a packet of “fancy” chips that I find spicy, and attempting to become “informed” enough to allocate some ticks and numbers on my voting form. I’m having the best and worst time ever.

The chips are amazing (Bluebird Delisio in sweet chilli relish flavour, by the way) and I’ve just forced myself to stop eating before I finish the whooole packet. But I’m really struggling with everything else at hand.

“Anyone can [run for mayor], it’s democracy yo”, said the boyfriend’s txt. My stupefied response to the Auckland local elections booklet must have been… well fuck, I’m still sitting here blankly. Let me preface this by saying that I’m pretty sure I never have, and never will explicitly express any political views here. I feel like such a bigot but I’m really, really bothered by the selection of people running for mayor. There are seventeen candidates, and only two people who I might even consider voting for. I’m pretty sure I won’t be surprised when the results are announced.

Although some much more than others, the candidates all seem enthusiastic and genuine enough, in the quest for becoming mayor of Auckland City. But that’s the problem for me — it’s Auckland City — it’s the biggest city in this country, and a city which I can say I’m from, when traveling, without having to explain that it’s in New Zealand. (That is, unless I’m visiting my sister’s university in California, where they are convinced that Auckland is Oakland and many aren’t sure where exactly New Zealand is.)

Frankly, the calibre of many candidates are well below the threshold of what I would deem necessary to be the mayor of Auckland City. There are too many candidates whose election platforms and views are simply too narrow to be able to address the wide variety of issues that Auckland encounters. Some of the candidates in the booklet sound like they’re having a good ol’ bitch at the dinner table and just aren’t cut out for the job. It’s already caused so many facebook scandals, but needless to say, one particular candidate will be highly unpopular, as his only plan for the future of Auckland is summed up in his party name Christians Against Abortions.

This sounds picky and shallow, however, I definitely judge candidates on their eloquence, or lack thereof. I’m aware that some candidates may not have attended university, or that they perhaps didn’t study anything that was ‘word-heavy’ — but I’m so dismayed at the amount of grammatical and spelling errors. Someone sounded like an interesting, intriguing person (although one I still wouldn’t vote for), until I read to the bottom and saw that she had used the wrong “practise/practice”. Another candidate just had strange, grandiose views and his introduction read like something I’d expect from an online-dating profile. (Disclaimer: I have never been on an online dating site, thus, emphasis on “expect”.) It said something like: “Name. Aucklander. Age. Area raised in. Blah. Blah. Blah. Unemployed“. I do admire his honesty and ambitions but I can’t help raising an eyebrow at someone whose hypothetical first six weeks as mayor includes: “cease violence/crime”; “full employment”; and “talk multi-millions” in South Korea, Taiwan, Japan and South Africa. Oh, and don’t forget  “early releases” — for what? prisoners?! — and “exercising Auckland dogs”. Sorry, am I missing something here?

Another candidate’s goal is to “reinvent politics” and to “remove 75% of the politicians”. That sounds nice, but maybe we’ll strike him off that list too, in line with his own manifesto. I do like the idea of “online referendums” and “quality two-way communications”, but what do these lofty ideas really mean, on a practical level? Sadly, not all households have internet and/or web-browsing devices, so are these referendums only to be directed at those well off enough to sit in bed with their laptop like my ever-grateful self? I’m also a little miffed that he wishes to “introduce quality education” because, as much as I complain, I believe quality education does exist, although standards fluctuate between teachers, schools, faculties, lecturers, etc.

I got curious enough to visit the website of the candidate with questionable aesthetic judgment. I thought, hey, with a creepy, Edward-Norton-like, one-eyebrow-raised photo, maybe it’s a young dude having a laugh. Nope, he’s 36. Someone else asserting that they’re a “defender of what is obviously and logicallybest for people” makes me nervous. Shall we do away with all pretenses of conducting a democracy?

The point is, I’m astounded and entirely underwhelmed by the options I’m offered. Despite the dismay of the rest of the country, Auckland is the biggest city, and the rise and fall of many things are determined here. Surely there are people more eloquent, qualified, inspiring, sensible, and just all-round better even if only on paper, than the disappointing nine pages I just read?!

Semi-relevantly, why don’t they create some kind of comprehensive survey which determines your detailed political views, with the outcome being that you get offered a list of all the candidates/parties in descending order of how much they agree with your personal views. That would be helpful, especially in the context of many people voting in general elections influenced by party loyalties, rather than actual policies and directions.

I’m glad I got so worked up and needed both hands to type vigorously. I’ve got a lot of chips left.

all your words are so magnetic, generational pathetic. and I will do it on my own again, and I will say what I will

There are those rare, rare moments that make me perk up and feel thoroughly, substancelessly euphoric. Moments where I feel the most clear-headed, yet hazy at the same time.

Clear-headed because for a few short minutes or partial-hours, it feels so obvious — what else could be the point to everything? And hazy as the scarce appearance of pure happiness couldn’t feel more inebriating. I expected a good show, but I didn’t expect this.

I’m a sucker for atmospheric music with honest lyrics, and Beach Fossils nailed it on the head. Dustin Payseur’s banter carried well throughout their set, being the type of frontman that never said too much or too little. Having experienced too many awkward singers that carried jokes into the land of cringe, I was pleasantly surprised to be chuckling along to his assertions that they were [ridiculous fake band name] and that “Beach Fossils are next”. And whether or not the stories are true, there were touches of surprising intimacy when he explained what the songs were about, even introducing one as “this song sucks”. Other band members chimed in with suggestions such as “everyone should crowd surf at the same time” and they engaged in faux-fights, trying to push each other off the stage whilst playing.

Dustin hopped off the stage in what my drunken friend mistook as a crowd-surf-attempt during “Clash the Truth” and they ended up on a pile on the ground. Maybe I’ve been too bogged down by the daily slog, but it was just so much fun.

I really didn’t care that I had only slept two hours the night before, already endured a 10-hour day, or that I had a full schedule of law lectures and then tutoring to dread. For the first time in a long time, everything fell away and I didn’t care, didn’t worry and didn’t feel. I didn’t mind that I hadn’t done my readings for class, or that my recital charts weren’t finished. I forgot that I had dirty hair and was sweating from being in my own little bubble. Because for once it was a happy bubble.

To add an even sweeter ending to the evening, at the end of their set, they hopped off the stage and hung out with leftover fans like us. It was the second time in my life that I’d ever felt any level of fan-girl-ness*, and I ended up gushing to Tommy the drummer about how I really dig his time feel. Turns out, he’s actually jazzically trained (somewhere prestigious, on a different instrument) so I guess my ears weren’t lying! Jazz schools and music training aside, what a nice, genuine guy.

I think… it was just so lovely of them. To have played a great show, and then hung out and chatted to us. I don’t know if they’ll remember the moments and words exchanged, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll remember it, and regardless of how fleeting, I found some pretty intense happiness on a fucking stormy Tuesday night. I hope they survived their 40-hour trip to Brazil and didn’t lose any instruments on the way.

When I bought tickets, all those months ago, I had obsessively listened to them whilst studying and expected a good show. I’d thought, Diiv was amazing live, I’m sure the band they spawned from could do just as well. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I can get all analytical-music-student about it, but it’s not about just the music. It was the vibe, the honesty, the atmosphere, the ambience in the things sung and left unsaid. Just some cool guys doing what they love. They were mindset-altering, to say the least. I guess I had better work on an excuse to go back to New York soon?

*The first time being when I met Nick Zinner and it turned out he liked my photos enough to get me a press pass.

P.S. This really sounded like a half-review, half-ramble and I really don’t know what the point in this post was. Nor do I know where this blog is going, but I am going to write more. Maybe not blog more, butwrite more. I know bloggers these days are all trying to find a “target audience”, have specialised blog posts such as “Music Mondays”, etc., and some even monetise their blogs — but I really can’t operate like that. Sure, I write for “someone”, unnamed, uncertain, out there, but I never know who that is until I get the odd comment or email that really connects with me or something I said. Well anyway, this is just an archive of a tiny portion of things I see and do and feel and hear.

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