"I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen."

This year I donned myself as two iconic characters from well-loved 80's movies. Friday I was Cameron Frye.




Last night I was Lloyd Dobler.

The Funk of 40,000 Years

Why? Cause this is thriller.

More pics from this weekend's halloween festivities on my flickr page.

If you have to ask if this is about you...

It's not about you. It's about one particular person and I assure you, it's not you. Unless it's you. But I'm pretty sure you don't read this anymore.

I'm sorry. I just saw you in my phone today and got a pang in my conscience. Yes, apparently I have one. I'm sorry I snubbed you. I'm sorry for whatever I said, and I'm sorry I didn't try a couple more times when you didn't return my last few calls. I was just thrown off gaurd. I had this whole new life beginning and there was this damn dangling loose end. I tried to ignore it, but you made yourself known. Instead of tying it up like a big boy I ran away and waited until it just sluffed off and got tired of being ignored. So anyway, I'm really sorry. Unfortunately I fear I'm not sorry enough to do this to your face (or over the phone, as the case may be). A real friend would call and set this straight. But I'm the kind of friend who blogs an obscure apology a month and a half later. Still, I'm sorry.

The Answers:

- Yes, about once a month.
- Yes and yes.

Magic Hoodie!

Toothpaste For Dinner

Funny you should ask...

I got a funny question at church yesterday. I had mentioned we were gonna do this music night thing at my house after institute on Wednesday and a girl asked me if I had a microphone... Possible answers that went through my head:

"Oh, twenty or thirty. I hope that's enough."
"No, I was hoping I could borrow one actually."
(Stupid look and silence for several seconds until they deduced the obvious.)

But I decided on nice, and just said "yes".

See? I'm not always mean and sarcastic, even if they are the first impulse.

Breathe in the air...

Long you'll live and high you'll fly,
smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry.
And all you touch and all you see,
is all your life will ever be...

I found a really primo turntable today so I opened my virgin 30th Anniversary vinyl pressing of The Dark Side of the Moon and played it on the dynaudio mains at work. My boss said she wished she could smoke a joint in our control room and not get fired.

Holy crap I love analog!

Help Me Donna. Help, help me Donna...

Thanks to my friend Leah I've finally resumed watching West Wing again. Donna, if Josh won't love you I will.

Friday the 13th...

...is the anniversary of a mass slaughter of Templar Knights by the Pope.

It is also a series of slasher films from the 1980's centered around the deranged hockey-mask clad killer Jason Vorhees.

It's also a Friday... which is just generally a good thing. Hurray!

Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.

I just found this note in an old notebook... it was written several months ago in the middle of what Jen can attest was a pretty nasty period in my life.

"Here’s the problem in a nutshell.

Crying is bad enough, but crying by your self is downright terrible. What is my problem? I don’t even have somebody I can be honest with. I think I have all these friends and then I have to cry and there’s nobody I can trust with that who won’t think I’m seriously chucked (Maybe I am and that’s the problem). How awful is that? I guess some people want to cry alone, but I can’t understand that. Crying (by which I really mean crying in self-pity) is so detestable to me that I can’t stand doing it alone. In earlier years I had it all going for me. I never used to cry much and I used to have friends I could have cried to, should the need arise. Now I cry a shameful amount and have no such friends. That absolutely sucks."

It just occured to me how happy I am that I no longer feel that way. So my friends, thank you for being good to me. I love you.

I renamed my blog.

As you can clearly see. Just what does "Further Up and Further In" mean? Well, C.S. Lewis fans... you tell me. Yes, that's a challenge.

Intercourse ensues!

Oh T-Rex... You slay me sometimes.

Please tell me somone else is as retarded as me...

I flushed my glasses. Not "lost" my glasses, or "sat on" my glasses...flushed them. As in, down the toilet. For those who know about my glasses slipping off at very inconvenient times (i.e. in the paint whilst painting my room, or in the turtle pond in central park) this was a likely inevitability. Still I didn't see it coming.

I flushed the toilet, they slipped off while I was "putting things away" and fell in the bowl. I instinctively reached my hand into my own pee and up the hole to grossville, but I was too late. And now my hand was all soaked in urine and microscopic traces of fecal matter. I got in the shower and scrubbed my arm for like a half an hour and threw away my scrub-puff. Then I put my contacts in. I still need to try a plunger, but I'm pretty sure my glasses are in our septic tank. Shit! Pun intended.

When it's 2am and you can't sleep...

Why not go running? I did tonight...err...this morning. But then I usually walk home cause I find something cool which has to be carried back. As I did this morning. Now I shower and attempt to sleep again.

Ah... music. Again and at last.

I went to a show last night. It seems like it's been too long since I've done that. Which isn't really true, because I went to live music all the time in New York. But this was different for some reason. It felt more grass-roots I suppose. All the artists were great. I'll only tell you about my favorite two though. Casey Dienel was a sort of bizzare, indie-cabaret thing. She's an excellent piano player, and approaches singing like she's shy, but is very dynamic. The best comparison I could make stylistically is Regina Spector. Damien Jurado was awesome as per usual. The pic above is of he and his cellist Jenna (who I have a predictable indie-girl crush on). I got CD's from both, so if anyone wants to borrow them, just let me know.

God bless uncyclopedia....

I was curious about pandas... I love open source sites.

For anyone who wants valuable information about
Pandas.

A Happy Trade...

So I've owned this amazing Fender Amp that I hardly ever play for almost a year. It's beautiful, it's vintage, it's a classic... But I never play it. And there's this seriously rocking amp I've coveted for a long time. Today I was contacted by someone who wanted to trade me straight across, my amp for the dream amp. So I did it. We both got high value for our trades and we both went away very happy. So here's my amp. It sounds incredible, and as the girls upstairs can witness, it's louder than sin. I'm all kinds of happy. I didn't spend a penny and my guitar rig just got even more awesomer. Here's my new baby... Zoe.

For Megan and Christina...

Best of Craigslist gem...

For those who ride the subway.

Rock and Role-call. Choke on your delicious soup!

I had a pretty good day. I was reminded why I should wake up before noon on a more regular basis. I started the day with a couple refreshing and beautiful climbs in Marie's able company at the quarry in Quincy. It was a really gorgeous morning.

Then I came home, washed some dishes and went to work. That's right...work. It was great. I didn't actually teach today as expected, but I did make money, so hey... I'll take it. Oh, and I went to class... met the students (well, one of the classes), filled out tax forms and the like, met all the rest of the "faculty" popping around and scrounged up some freelance sound work on a promo spot for Spike TV. Getting the name out, as it were.

Now for the crap-stain. I got TOWED! So I did my business at CDIA and what not, then decided to get some dinner at the Chinese resturaunt down the block. I parked my car in a space designated as a reserved spot with the resturaunt's name on it. The sign read precisely, "Parking for Ponzu Resturaunt". I walked around the building ordered some take out and walked back to where my car should have been parked. The entire visit could not have occupied more than 10 minutes. But, of course, my car (that brand new one) was not where I had left it. After freaking out about a possible theft for a moment I returned to the resturaunt to ask them if they'd towed my car.

"Grey Toyota? Oh, yes."
"How-Wh-Why-What in the Hell? I'm a customer, and I was here for like 5 minutes!"
"That's our tenant parking."
"Whaaat??"
"We live here."
"So what? The spot was marked with the name of your resturaunt. Of which I am a patron (holding up my bag of food)..."
"Customers park on the street."
"How are we supposed to know that? The spot said reserved for this resturaunt. This is Ponzu, right?"
"Right."
"Then what the Hell?"
"I am sorry, but you cannot park there."
"I'm sorry too, cause you're gonna pay for my tow..."
"Oh, no, sorry, no."
"Sorry, no nothing. I parked my car in a spot marked for your establishment, and in no less than 30 seconds entered it. Whereupon you had my car towed... I'm the only person in here, you couldn't have asked if the car was mine? You're paying for my tow."
"You can sue us if you'd like."
"Are you serious? You can't be serious. No wonder your charming little resturaunt is a veritable ghost town at dinner hour. You really treat people like this?"
"I think you should leave."
"I think I'm gonna need the tow truck's phone number and your name."
"For what?"
"To retrieve my vehicle and to send you a lawsuit."
"Have a good day."
"Go to Hell."

I fumed on my 15 minute walk to the tow yard and angrily forked over my $110 in cash to retrieve my car. Smug bastards. I wanted to do them physical harm. If I wasn't so hungry, and (because of them) poor I would have hucked my curry pork dumpling soup at their window. Of course it's an empty threat cause I can't afford a lawsuit. Maybe a strongly worded letter on my dad's stationary would cut it. Grrrrrrr!!!!

But, really, it was a good day over-all.

"All I Want is Everything."

I was listening to The Bravery this morning and that line’s been stuck in my head ever since. I’ve been thinking about it all day. It seems to summarize the fundamental disappointment in my existence and perhaps the fundamental problem with existence, period.

All I want is for every moment to burst with inspiration. All I want is for everyday to look like yesterday. All I want is to share life with someone so amazing that every moment feels like you could die in it, the happiest person who ever bit the dust. Also if she could look like the epitome of hotness and sing like Kristen May and make me melt like Billy Holliday… that would be acceptable. All I want is to have my work fulfill and satisfy me yet yield all the finance I would ever need. All I want is to be able to write songs that make other people write better songs. All I want is the young Brian Wilson’s singing voice. All I want is a 72 channel API console, 48 channels of tape, an HD-3 System, ADAMs Mains, and my complete outboard I wishlist. All I want is for people to start thinking about the way they treat each other. All I want is to treat other people less shitty than I usually do. All I want is for every movie to feel like Hiroshima Mon Amour and look like Legends of the Fall. I want every book to read like The Picture of Dorian Gray and affect me like The Thin Red Line with all the subtlety of Anna Karenena. I want the scriptures to drop all pretense and reveal the truths I beg them for. I want to understand all of my covenants. And then I want to be able to keep them. I want pure intelligence to flow into my mind over an unimpeded firewire 800 connection. I want to be able to make someone cry in the good way for once. I want to stop hurting the people I love. I want people to understand what I mean and not what I say… or even what I want to mean. Whichever hurts less. All I want is to not even have to tell Satan to get behind me. Better yet, if he could just never catch up with me in the first place. All I want is forever; all the time in timelessness and all the space in spacelessness to learn and understand and become.

Of course that’s unreasonable, but perhaps it’s also exactly where my expectations should be. If I had strictly telestial expectations I’d be set with this place. But Earth is like New York City: I hate this place as much as I love it. Perhaps after a baptism of fire…

The one Jason forgot...

This is my favorite I think... perhaps cause it's the story of my life. Perhaps for the visual poetry... who knows?

If you don't like Jimmy Eat World...

It's obvious you've never heard this album. Just falling in love with it for the 9,000'th time... From Jason and I's drive-to-school-at-the-top-of-morning-lungs anthem, "Table for Glasses" to all 16 minutes and 14 seconds of the loop-wild "Goodbye Sky Harbor".

On Tuesday I decided how I was getting to Boston...

3 grueling 16 hour days, 2 hotels, 2600 miles, hours of packing, unpacking, packing, and unpacking, and 80 straight hours with my mother later...

I'm in Boston. Maybe I should've flown.

More to come soon.

Back in AZ...Go Sabercats!

So Utah was wierd. I had an immense "you don't belong here anymore" feeling the whole time. I drove back to AZ on Friday and stopped at my grandma's house in Flagstaff for the night. Saturday I got to unpack all my stuff from the suburban and start scratching my head about how to get it all to Boston.

Then I went to hang out with Jen. She lives right by Kiwanis park, and hadn't yet explored it, so we decided to do just that. Good call. We stumbled onto a Pee-Wee football game in progress. If you've never watched a Pee-Wee football game, you really should. Imagine 50 or so 7-10 year olds decked out in pads with huge helmets. If they lean too far, they fall over. Every tackle begins with one initial hit and ends in a pile because the kids build up so much momentum (and are so top heavy) that they can't stop. Jen put the charm of watching the event this way: "It's like big people football... but they're small." Profound. It really was amazing. Before we saw any of the game we picked the team in black and gold to root for. They were called the sabercats and they totally dominated. It was really sad for the parents across the field, I'm sure. Those kids were getting wasted. Sitting with all the parents was a hoot. They were so into the game. And many had the cutest little black babies ever (future generations of pee-wee players). We got a few wierd looks cause we were too... despite having no kids of our own on the field. We screamed "go sabercats!!!" at every tackle and every brilliant end zone run. So find a pee-wee game to watch sometime. You'll thank me.

I was kissed last night...

For those staying tuned to the strangeness that is my life: You can add that little gem. A girl barely home from her mission stuck her tongue in my mouth. Wow.

Vacation is like Masturbation...

You're only screwing yourself.

Vacation has kinda sucked thus far. Actually it was great when all I was doing was playing with nieces and nephews. Now I'm in Utah and will be for almost a week longer. It'll get better... right? Right?

Crisis Speed-Dial

Mine looks something like this:

1. The distraction: This friend doesn't need to know anything about your trauma, they know what to do and where to take you to help you forget. If they didn't like you so much as the good Mormon you were, they'd get you sloshed cause numbness might do more to help than anything.

2. The logician: This friend is usually a guy who can tell you how it is straight and get you thinking in a healthy, logical fashion instead of a dismal, over-emotional one.

3. The sympathetic girl: She cares more about your situation than probably anybody. She wants you to tell her everything and she'll listen attentively. She'll tell you what it's like from the other side but she won't defend them. She wants you to be happy, and if lying or giving you false hope does the trick she'll lie her ass off.

4. The Booty Call: This beautiful girl adores you so much she'll shower you with meaningless romantic affection to help you feel wanted again. Sometimes she wishes it was real, sometimes you do too. But it'll never come up. It's understood.

5. Cursive: As in the emo band from Oklahoma. Get in your car, put "The Ugly Organ" album on repeat and descend into the abyss.

6. Al Green: A mandatory pick-me-up after depression hour with Cursive.

7. The sister: Usually Lori, sometimes Erika... If it gets to this point I'm pretty desperate.

8. The Lord: Yeah, he should probably be first on speed-dial, but it usually takes me a while to get in the posture to call him.

Perhaps none of them will make you feel less shitty, but you try them all anyway. Hopefully some of them are home.

My Last Weekend in New York (Long Version)

Aaah, New York... we've had some good times indeed. I spent my last weekend in your glorious streets and subways having a hell of a good time with my friends. Thanks to everyone who came to Friday night's revisit of karyoke splendor...particularly John: We blew them away again. Thanks to the Bostonians who enjoyed with me a magnificent Saturday. Marie and I enjoyed a great breakfast on the lower-East side and an astonishingly beautiful community garden in the East Village. We also skulked around a lovely Catholic church and took our sweet time finding a way to Chelsea, where we joined up with Julie and Seth to wander through galleries and the Chelsea Market. I resisted fainting on Canal Street for 15 minutes before undertaking an Improv Everywhere mission at Madison Square Park. We shopped in slow motion and froze in place along with 200 or so other cohorts (Seth with his hand on Julie's tuchas)in the lower Manhattan Home Depot. We spent hours in the Met, and despite it being my 4th visit, I still went away wishing I'd seen more. I witnessed a dazed Marie under "art-overdose" and had a great chat with Julie. We finished the night with a dinner in the village, and I finally relaxed my aching arches. Sunday was enjoyed in exactly 4 places...a warm shower, church, chinatown, and my bed. In the morning I packed and made final arrangements to fly home. I saved my goodbyes to New York for my brief return in mid-September before I begin the next chapter in the saga known as Mooney's life.

Pictures at flickr

My Last Weekend In New York (Short Version)

Holy crap I'm exhausted! I love you people so much, but 60+ hours/no break with anybody is kinda tough. I'm now going to sleep. Expect a real version of this post within a couple of days.

Love, Jared.

Does that make me crazy? Probably.

My first Vlog. Enjoy.

"Value Added"

In the ad sales world of Broadcast Radio/TV there's a term used to describe benefits given for purchasing a spot that are bonuses on top of the deal. For example, if I was selling Dial Hand Soap a radio ad, I might tell them that in addition to the exposure given them in the actual airtime, I would also post their advertisements on the station's website and at remote functions and promotions. These additional benefits are called "value added" incentives.

I've been in a fight with the Lord about my work situation for close to a month now. And by fight, I mean he's been nagging me and I've been trying to ignore him. He wanted me to ask myself why I felt unsettled about staying New York. I didn't want to deal with that. I've also felt a lean towards moving to Boston. So I decided to exercise some faith (or perhaps just quit being stubborn), and at least distribute resumes and look for some jobs in Bean Town. Well, he showed me again why I should listen to him more often. Because he knows how to make me happy, a lot better than I do.

On my first day, my (now very good) buddy Tim randomly mentioned that he might be able to get me a job at the Center for Digital Imaging Arts, a part of Boston University, teaching post-production audio and recording arts. I would have never thought to look into schools. I came with resumes for post-houses and studios. But it turned out to be a really great opportunity. He set me up with an informal sort of interview which went better than I could have possibly hoped and huzzah... two days later I have a job. I feel so much more at peace with this, than the idea of freelancing in New York. Everything else has worked out around it too. The time I need to start, my lease ending just on time, it's really been perfect.

Which leads me back to value-added: Not only do I get to live in a less expensive, more wonderfuller city, which is beautiful and inspiring, and have a really great job at a place I feel like I can contribute in a monumental way... I also get to live close to some of my best friends, not the least of whom are Marie and Kylee. Value-added. In short, I'm sold. Slap a Red-Sox cap on me and call me a townie.

Dear Magnificent,

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" was a cool book as well. More recommendations from you please. I read your copy at your house this weekend. Funny enough, my copy from Amazon is probably gonna be in my mail stack when I get back to New York... oh well.

Splitting hairs.

I got a haircut.

My Studio is my Home.

I think perhaps only engineers and artists can understand this, but my studio (specifically the room in which I house my recording equipment, but more generally applied, the space where I create) is my secret garden, my inner sanctum, my creative Eden. It just occured to me, in large part, why I feel unsettled. I have lived without a home for 3 months. I rent a room in Harlem where I sleep, read books, check the internet, and even play guitar, but this room has failed to become my home. I finally will bring my studio with me when I return from AZ/UT. And because I am poor, my bedroom and studio will be the same place (but such is life as a renter), but that doesn't matter. I will have a home again.

I will share with you my secret plan for my new studio. The room will be a bright color as opposed to the dark I typically choose. I will hang acoustics and art as appropriate but I will comission a wall from Kristi, a wall from Adam (you'll have to find a way to get out here at some point), and 3rd awesome artist yet to be discovered. I want to give 3 artists a blank wall and $100 (not an appraisal of their work I'm just poor), and let them create. I feel this will Christen my studio as a space for creating and foster a good mood in the room. I'll leave the back wall for visitors, recording artists, and whoever to leave their mark. Good plan. Yes? No? In any case, I'm excited about it so you should be too.

Last week of my internship.

So this is the last week of my internship at Avatar. It's been a good learning experience. I'm supposed to do a critique for the studio manager, Tino about the experience with positive/negatives. I figured that might interest some of y'all since I've been asked much about my work there.

First of all, I have to say I hoped I could have spent more time at the studio. I really enjoyed the chance to be singled off with an individual mentor/engineer, but I felt like it limited the amount we could learn. I feel particularly blessed to have been assigned with Anthony who took a lot of chances to teach me and learn from me as well. He catered the hours we spent to what would help me most and assisted me to learn the most popular large-format console in the industry (the SSL 9000J) with great fluency. He familiarized me with much of the gear I was less familiar with and passed on some great tips. I feel like the biggest skill I developed was much more effective mic selection and placement, as that was a primary responsibility on every session.

I would have like to spent some more time in ProTools and on the console(s) than I did. I have owned my own studio now for many years so the distance from ProTools made me feel like less of an engineer. I also wished part of the internship included some time with Tino learning the business side of it too, but I understand he's a pretty busy guy keeping the studio booked. Although unexpected, I learned from the artists too, especially the Brand New guys. They knew what they wanted their sound to be like and we could work together on getting the guitar tones and drum sounds just right.

Premium words indeed.

I know you've left for China, but I should have gotten more book recommendations before you left. I can't remember the last time I read a book in less than 24 hours, but I couldn't repose or manufacture a single Z until I'd finished it last night/ this morning. It was awesome. I was moved. I'm not sure everything, but much was illuminated for me. How beautifully can words be butchered? Now I'm near death for want of sleep, so I'm to bed.

Everything is Illuminated.

Started reading it today. Struck by this:

"I have thought without end of what you said about falling in love with her. In truth, I never fathomed it when you uttered it in Ukraine. But I am certain that I fathom it now. I examine her once when it is morning, and once before I manufacture Z's, and on every instance I see something new, some manner in which her hairs produce shadows, or her lips summarize angles."

Good night. Even in broken English, that's beautiful.

Eric Clapton stole George Harrison's Wife.

With an uber-guitar rock song called "Layla". I saw my Eric Clapton lamp tonight (thanks again Kris) and was reminded of this. It's an amazing story in rock history actually. And I will share it with you:

First of all, I needn't remind you that George Harrison was an effing Beatle (in fact, a "SIR Effing Beatle" by that time, and Clapton was still a couple decades away from being knighted). Now it could be argued that "Clapton [was] God" in England, but really this was just the opinion of a particularly active Grafittist in the greater London area. George had always had an impressive list of best friends (i.e. Bob Dylan, who introduced he and the rest of the Beatles to Marijuana and Ravi Shankar who introduced George to meditation, the sitar, and lsd; we can probably assume he knew all about "Cocaine" by the time he and Clapton met).

George and Patty were not even on the rocks at the time. In fact all of the Beatles, though broken up, were in the most stable relationships of their careers John with Yoko; Paul with Linda; Ringo with a guitar. This was purely a case of rocking your best friend's girl away from him. The most amazing part of the story is that they made up (fairly quickly) and were still best friends after this. Now that my friends, is "bro's before ho's".

p.s. The original name for this post was "Wah-na-nana-nana-nah!!! Wee Doo Doo Doo Doo!!!" But I figured without direct reference to Layla nobody would get it.

Heat.

So, the studio is always a pretty welcome place after walking in the heat. It's between 72 and 76 in there all the time. It's so cold in there, that it's actually usually refreshing to walk out into the bright afternoon when I leave. Not today. The heat was so instantly assaulting I was nearly choked on my first warm breath. It's supposed to be even hotter tomorrow. I've lived in AZ my whole life and Alabama/ Mississippi. But damn if New York isn't the hottest place I've ever lived.

One of my better experiences.

Hey, so I think I've explained to some of you that I'm not allowed to say who's in the studio until they've left. So Brand New has been in since June. (They're one of my favorite bands) Well, they just finished the 3rd album and it sounds really good. I might still like Deja Entendu better, but this is the best quality recording. Great songs too. So make sure and get it whenever it gets released. I set up mics on each session and even engineered a little, but you won't see me in the credits cause I'm an intern. This is one of the frustrations of being the peon, but when I come back I will at least start to get 2nd engineer credits on stuff I assist on.

Another moleskine gem.

"Surely, that can't have caught you completely off guard... Oh, it did? Sorry, my bad."

Organic.

I went into Avatar this afternoon to help Anthony give our Hammond C3 a checkup. We swapped some tubes, fixed some dents in some of the tonewheels, and she sounds better than ever. Well, maybe not better than she sounded on "Dark Side of the Moon". That's right, Avatar owns the Hammond from Abbey Road where Pink Floyd recorded their breakthrough album. It's not likely any Beatles played it since it replaced another older Hammond at Abbey Road in 1970. Plus the organ is (as far as we can discern) a '69 (The year the Beatles began to break up. I think it was '70 when they officially called it quits). It's still pretty cool though, and in the end, I like Floyd better than the Beatles.

A Pleasant Surprise.

I walked out of a movie tonight near Lincoln Center and New York was fantastically beautiful. The Gallery, The Opera House, The Julliard School, and the Temple were alight and I had a moment of discrete bliss... a pleasant surprise. I got off a subway stop early to buy a McDonald's ice cream cone and walk in my neighborhood. The people reflected the beauty, I'm sure I've never seen so many smiles on these streets. It was good for my soul.

Scribbled in my Moleskine sometime yesterday.

Thought that might make some of you laugh.

Back in New York City.

This week has been strange. Work has been the very definition of frustrating this week. I want to be a real engineer again. Soon I will have a job where I actually use ProTools regularly, so that will be nice, but now it seems like I'm just biding my time as the intern till August 20th when I fly back to AZ. That's a lousy feeling.

I've also been the victim of my own nerves, about a variety of things that it actually makes no sense to be worried about. Yesterday I was certain an ulcer was coming. So I forced myself to chill. Then I said to myself, "Deal with what you can deal with right in front of you and relax a bit about everything else."

Mostly I'm doubting myself. I'm doubting whether I'm good enough to even survive doing freelance in this city. I'm doubting whether staying here is even a good idea. I'm doubting... well, you get the idea right? Doubt feels crappy, and I'm trying to feel more positive but it's becoming clear to me that I just... might not be positive about some things I thought I had decided. A lot of these things make perfect sense everywhere but in my heart. One of them only makes sense in my heart and feels stupid everywhere else. Help me.

More Boston.

Ok, so ultimately for the satisfaction of Yancy (who, mind you, is jealous as can be) I undertake a long and tedious blog post about my weekend in Boston with pictures and all. I flew in Thursday night. Flying was nice, but honestly I think I'll save by Fung Wah'ing in the future (I'll actually keep going with Rucky Stah, but "FungWah'ing" is a way better verb). I took the T into Harvard where Kristi picked me up. We went to dinner in Watertown with friends Seth, Tim, and Kylee. I had meat loaf (much to Seth's dismay).

Friday I went to lunch at the same pizzaria near Berklee and napped about whilst everybody was at work. Then we went to a performance of Mozart by the Boston Landmarks Orchestra. They played a finished version of the Requiem he was in process of finishing upon his death. It was perfect. The soloists were amazing, especially the bass (give it up for basses). I want to see that guy sing the role of Zorastro in the Magic Flute. Oh, yeah and we were soaking wet. We walked to Harvard from the church (about a 1/4 mile) in a deluge. Kylee, Catherine (sp?) and I stopped and played in a fountain and got even wetter if it were possible (sorry no pictures, they were taken on Catherine's camera). Afterwords enhungered (and probably less than intelligent) we went to eat at a diner/ice cream parlor. It was cold.

Saturday we woke up in the morning and took a ferry to Spectacle Island in the harbor to see the USS Constitution fire it's guns. I think somehow we missed it though (not the boat, the guns). Then we ferried over to Georges Island and played all day in the fort there which was occupied for 4 or 5 different wars. Much of our time was spent exploring in darkened hallways and rooms with unbelievable reverb tails (Jason, you would have shat yourself, no joke). Then we boated back to Boston and the view made me fall in love. I'm not kidding...Boston and I are in love. Saturday night we went to "Shakespeare in the Common" which was free (always great) and saw a nifty little rendition of "Taming of the Shrew" contemporized up to North End Boston's equivalent of "Little Italy". I was reminded how much more I like Shakespeare in comedy. Shakespeare in the Park was amazing, but I had more fun with the Shrew than MacBeth.

Sunday we went to church and I really enjoyed the meetings. Lots of cool people, good lessons, great comments, and a really reverent and wonderful sacrament meeting. At this point I start panicking... what if I'm supposed to live in Boston instead of New York? But I just got jobS in New York. Aaaah! After church we ate some dinner and I headed back to the airport. A big part of my soul wishes I was still there. I think I might ache for Boston for a while. Have you ever felt a need to be in a place that it isn't reasonable to be in?

Anyhow, I will now slew pictures about cause it's easier than scattering them through the text in appropriate places. Thanks to my Boston friends for putting me up and carting me 'round. I had a good old time. Come to New York so we can have fun here too.

I love lamp.

My dear friend Kristi, known by the alias "Marie" amongst her Bostonian rabble, does awesome alternative art that involves melting vinyl records into rudimentary lampshades and constructing a base from the album art. On my visit this past weekend, I bought a lamp made from the Eric Clapton album "Slowhand". It is awesome. Check out (and buy if you're so inclined) her work on her website.

AWESOME.

An overused word by me, it's true. But the only word I have to describe what I just experienced. I've been meaning to give The Format's new album "Dog Problems" a listen for a few days. I just listened to it while going to bed. I couldn't sleep. It was amazing. An experience akin to listening to "Spilt Milk" by Jellyfish or "Pet Sounds" by the Beach Boys for the first time. And for anyone who knows how often I listen to both of those albums, you understand the momentus nature of this discovery. It's 5 in the morning, and I'm not tired. All I am is overcome by the need to express this experience to the world. Do yourself a favor. Go buy this CD or download it from iTunes or eMusic. Set aside an hour and listen to it in a quiet room with headphones on. This is sonic candy for your hungry ears, substantial lyrics for your wanting soul, and perfectly crafted pop for that creature inside that's just dying to sing in the shower. Still not convinced? Find and listen to just the title track (track 6). If you don't like it you're stupid and I can't be your friend anymore. Not willing to take that risk? You're stupid and I can't be your friend anymore.

San Dimas High School Football Rules!

I think it was Bill S. Preston Esq. and Ted Theodore Logan who ruined the word "gnarly". I never know what to think when someone says for example, "That's a gnarly beard you've got." Does that mean you think it's growing in all gross and uneven? Or that you think it's a cool looking beard? Or maybe both. Maybe Gnarls Barkley will put it right. Or maybe not.

All kinds of words have gone astray of their proper meanings. "Funky", for example, used to mean something akin to "your general odor is suscpiciously like that of butt or a rotting corpse." Now it describes a soulful music with scratchy guitar and immense bass in syncopated rhythms. Or it means something is strange or unusual.

Bad means good instead of bad. Fat might be spelled with a "ph" and therfore mean something completely different. And yet we somehow make sense of all of this. It must be kinda frustrating to learn contemporary English with all of these anachronistic shifts in meaning... or maybe it's not. Who knows?

Our house becomes a home. (Sorta)

So Seth and I have both been making some improvements to our living space. The initial improvements of air conditioning and blinds (Yancy and I used to have to get naked in front of an open window) were accomplished long ago, but slowly our stuff has moved out of suitcases and into more permanant fixtures. Furniture hunts in the moving piles have been fruitful. I now have a small desk, which I'm in process of covering with stickers (we scored a bunch at the siren festival at Coney Island this weekend where we also lifted [read: stole] the awesome green sign that says New York Noise), a media shelf/amp stand, and a score of multi-colored all purpose crates. Seth's wall is covered with maps of New York and the Boroughs. I must say it's starting to look pretty cool. Yes, we both still sleep on the floor, but that's actually a preference more than a necessity.

"Wow, I know you said you were flat-footed, but WOW."

I went to foot locker today to get some running shoes. After trying on a couple pairs I explained that I was pretty flat-footed and probably needed something with a better arch. The referee assisting me had given me the shoes with the biggest arch already so he referred (since that's what referees do well) me to a place down the street called Jackrabbit Sports. I introduced myself to one of the shoe experts and explained my whole genetic predicament. She asked me to show her my feet so I did and she said the title of this post. They had me run on a treadmill in a neutral running shoe and video recorded from different angles, my run. After some analysis and a few different video treadmill sessions in different shoes, we landed on a pair that corrected much of my bad form as a result of my flat feet. The shoes are aptly called "The Beasts", as they are easily the heaviest running shoe I have ever worn. Seth, Jason and I just went running in the pouring rain. I consider the Beasts sufficiently Christened.

An Edible Ice Cream Receptacle

Surely ranks among the best ideas ever.

Employment news.

I know I've told a number of people about this, but I figured I'd make a general announcement on the subject.

My supervising engineer Anthony, told me he was going to reccomend that Avatar hire me on a freelance basis in September. He tells me that's good for about 10-15 studio hours a week. Which is not a full time gig, but great. I'd be making $35/hour. But obviously I need some other work if I'm gonna stay in New York. So I'm on the lookout for a part time job with later hours. I'm gonna check into TV/Radio stations and possibly some clubs and post-houses. So pray I can find some other work so I can stay in New York. Or pray that I don't so I can come back West, whichever you like.

Love, Jared.

I'm doing the 7's thing...

For which I blame Kylee and Kristi.

7 Things I Want to Do Before I Die:
1. Own an awesome studio.
2. Make a film and enter it in festivals.
3. Have 3 or so kids. With a wifey.
4. Make Kristi watch an entire movie in one sitting.
5. Kiss Zooey Descanel.
6. Do karayoke several more times. And recieve a standing ovation or an encore.
7. Shake Ingmar Bergman's hand.

7 Things I Cannot Do:
1. Whistle worth a damn.
2. Eat seafood of nearly any variety.
3. Drugs.
4. Wake up early. Well I can, but it's hard.
5. A flip, front or back.
6. "Breakdance". Which is an improper term, but nonetheless I wish I could.
7. Stop buying recording/music equipment with all spare funds.

7 Things I say often:
1. "You're a horrible person."
2. Rad.
3. "You are making me sooo angry." (In Carl's voice)
4. Numberless jokes from Arrested Development that only a few people get.
5. "I want to kiss a girl."
6. "So, this one time, Adam and I..."
7. (Sung) The lyrics to one of 8 billion songs that run through my mind on a daily basis.

7 Books I Could Read Over and Over:
1. The New Testament from Acts to Revelations.
2. Killing Yourself to Live.
3. Sex, Drugs and Coco Puffs.
4. The Infinite Atonement.
5. Most of the other books I love are actually too depressing to read over and over again in rapid succesion.
6.
7.

7 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over (originally movies):
1. "Storm Coming" by Gnarls Barkley
2. "Days Go By" by Duncan Sheik
3. "Wandering" by Ben Folds and Darren Jesse
4. "Oh What a Night" by The Four Seasons
5. "Ghost in this House" by Hugh Prestwood (Allison Krauss and Union Station)
6. "I Do." by Jude
7. "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac

7 Movies I could watch over and over (you whimps):
1. "Duel at Ichijoji Temple" by Hiroshi Inigaki
2. "All the Real Girls" by David Gordon Green
3. "Winter Light" by Ingmar Bergman
4. "The Hudsucker Proxy" by the Choen Brothers
5. "Kagemusha" by Akira Kurosawa
6. "Magnolia" by Paul Thomas Anderson
7. "The Royal Tenenbaums" by Wes Anderson

7 Things that Attract Me to My Best Friends:
1. Sheer Awesomeness.
2. Intelligence.
3. Their Humor, Hyjinx, and Hilarity.
4. Genuine-inity.
5. Spontaneity.
6. Willingness to sing loudly and badly with me in public.
7. Likeable faces (mostly).

7 People that I think should do "7".
1. Nobody really needs to waste their time on this. I was just pretty bored.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.

Having a subway car to yourselves...

Is one of the better things in life.

When the lights go down in the city, and the sun shines on the bay...

OK, granted that song's about San Fransisco, and the lights never actually go down in New York, unless it's a brownout. But hey, it's Journey and it went with the picture. Good enough.

In addition to taking the above photograph, I played in a fountain in Battery Park last night and got soaked. I then ate chinese food and slept in a queen bed with 3 other people. Finally, I woke up in a strange place, late for work. And yet, I am posistive that all of these things need to happen on a more regular basis.

This is what I ate tonight.

Yancy and I finally made it to a little German biergarten in the village called Lederhosen Muchen. We both had the two wurst plate with one brat (all but gone in the picture, it was delicious) and one currywurst, which is exactly what it sounds like and is similarly yummy. The potato sides were awesome as well as the vegetables and bread. It was all good. This is probably my favorite resturaunt I've been to yet in New York. If you've never eaten German food, eat it there for your first time.

A weekend in Boston, MA

So, kind of on a whim, Yancy and I bought tickets on the Chinatown Bus from New York to Boston. His friend Stephanie was gonna be up there and it being one of his last weekends in New York... I figured I was down for anything he wanted to do.

So we took an early train down to Chinatown on Sunday morning on boarded the "Lucky Star" (pronounced Rucky Stah) bus. The bus trip was pretty uneventful. Yancy slept and I sat, bitter that I couldn't fall sleep. But we did see a very cool cemetery on the outskirts of Long Island with the Manhattan skyscraper skyline behind it. It looked amazing. Neither of us could get our cameras in time, but we're going out there this weekend to get the picture cause wow...talk about imagery.

We actually showed up early and went to sacrament meeting in our shorts and t-shirts. Yes, I felt like a heathen. I also had my pillow. Kinda tempting to have a pillow with you in sacrament meeting. We spent the afternoon getting settled in the house we were staying at. Some girlfriends of Scott's (Yancy and I's friend in Boston) were gone for the weekend and told him we could stay there while they were gone. They were the coolest girls we'd never met. They left us cake and brownies, the key to a car, and their awesome dog, Cleo. We left them flowers when we left. Anyway, we spent most of Sunday hanging out with my friend Kristi from High School who lived just down the street. Then Scott made Thai food for all of us. Then I fell asleep.

The next morning Yancy and I walked the Freedom Trail (a red line around Boston that leads to significant historical sites having to do with the American revolution). It was really cool. Then, on Jason's advice we visited the Berklee College of Music and his favorite pizzaria across the street therefrom. Finally, we attended a live camera rehearsal for the 4th of July Boston Pops concert featuring Steven Tyler and Joe Perry of Aerosmith. It was really cool. The sound was amazing (outdoors) and I visited the sound guy just tell him how great he was. He seemed appreciative. The Pops were of course pretty amazing themselves, and hanging out with all the new friends we'd made just made for an awesome Independence Eve. Hours later Yancy and I were on a bus back to New York, completely exhausted. I had no problems sleeping on the way back, incedently. Oh, also we never ended up hanging out with Yancy's friend Stephanie cause she was like an hour away from Boston. Oh well, we had fun anyway.

And... pictures.