The best part

What's up, you ask? A few things, actually. I will not become institutionally distracted starting this fall, because apparently they've moved the recruitment phase since I last checked, but i'm still seriously thinking of dipping my toe back into academia for a moment. We'll see how I feel about that come June.

I also had a random chat with Asia recently and we came up with what in hindsight seems like a glaringly obvious idea, which for once I would really like to pursue all the way to its inevitable demise at the hands of reality. We're in the very, very early development stages, but we seem to have at least a couple of things going for us, so... damn, I at least want to be able to say I've tried. Sorry about the vagueness, but I already dread people asking me about that thing I meant to do and me having to explain how it all went to hell.

I went out with the three A's tonight, vaguely aware that at some point dancing might be involved (that's: went out dancing, in adjustedspeak). I made every preparation - tried to get wasted with my companions at home beforehand, tarted myself up a wee bit, hummed Kylie in my head... alas, the first place we landed at offered us a thumping beat and not much else (the highlight was a pretty bad remix of a very boring La Roux song). I would have tried at least going through the motions for the sake of the people who invited us there... had I any motions to go through. Unfortunately, that is not the case, so we moved to Kulturalna, where the music was equally thumpy, but with a funky twist. After downing some more vodkas and focusing hard on "having some fun" I managed to enjoy about a number and a half, but then shit got electro, the music left me, and I decided to vacate the premises.

The moral of the story is: I seem to have temporarily misplaced the ability to get drunk socially. I only feel the benefits once I detach, and am suddenly able to languish in the heightened/distorted impact of my own music, and the city pulsing around me in the night. Which, incidentally, often makes the walk home the most enjoyable part of the evening.

Meanwhile, tomorrow could make for a nice and vivid memory, or become an unmitigated disaster. Right now I'm totally not feeling having to prance around a huge shopping mall in full-on 60s picnic garb, but there seems to be no way around it. Then again, hey...

Nope. I got nothing.

Mutant update

Kylie Minogue - Too Far

Some terrible remix. And it really is a pretty good song when you're in the mood for something breathy, frantic, and somewhat unsettling.

The Ol 97s - The New Kid

Live. Which is to say: not that good.

The Fall

Shall I go on?

The case for/against BB

Some time ago I happened upon this song with a rather killer (if somewhat rockchick) intro that got me giddy from the first note. And then the chorus happened. And giddy was a thing of the past, buried under layers of soulcrushing blandness. I was so disapointed I actually shared the story with several people. The song was Another White Dash, the artist - Butterfly Boucher.

Well I recently listened to her 2nd record, and it turns out it's just what she does. Builds up your expectations with something full of promise only to crush them with the most generic chorus you could imagine.

Exhibit A



Exhibit B

I know it's all subjective, de gustibus blah blah blah, but in my case it's literally fusing an instant hit with an instant miss. Sad panda.

Position locked

A while ago I caught wind of two apartments for rent, both cheaper than my current one. For some time now I have been a bit worried about how quickly I seem to burn through cash, so I decided to check them out. The cheaper of the two was on Smocza, so in my current district, even closer to my parents' place, and deep within my comfort zone (across the street from my kindergarten, actually). Unfortunately it was somewhat cramped, hot, and I was warned about psychotic neighbors, all too eager to call the cops on you whenever they don't like the noise level.

The 2nd one was on Narbutta, a quiet, lovely street in Mokotow, the "Holy Grail District" for most Varsovians. By the time I got to see it, I really hoped it would be a dingy little shithole, because the more I thought about it, the more nightmarish the perspective of getting uprooted again seemed. Unfortunately, it was not. It kind of reminded me of Paris. Which I've never ever been to, but it did. Don't make me explain. It was tiny, but very cozy, overlooking a quiet courtyard, and stuff. And my friends live just down the street. The only downsides were the shower (kind of icky, to be honest), and the windows which were supposedly less than hermetic. Oh, and you had to take the rent in cash down to some guy at the French Institute (hey, maybe that's where the Paris part came from).

I spent 2 days agonizing over the issue and trying to make up my mind, before finally deciding to stay at my current place. My reasoning was, obviously, multi-layered and complex, but it all boils down to the fact that I've just grown too attached to it. Once I let the girl from Narbutta know I wouldn't be taking the apartment, I went into the kitchen to make myself some tea, and suddenly felt such a surge of joy and relief... I know it's just a simple psychological mechanism put in place by our alien overlords to make us content with our decisions, but nonetheless I think it was some sort of turning point. I like this place. I like the space, I like the clean bathroom, I like the giant kitchen table, and the crazy couch. I like my queen-sized bed, and my plum-coloured, bulletproof drapes. I don't like the fucking armchair, but at least I can bury it under my clothes, much like I used to when I lived with my parents.

So I guess I'm here to stay.

Southern Comfort

...but with a whimper

I'm back in Warsaw and have no idea what to do with myself with no people or deadlines to meet, no movies to miss, and no food to binge on.

I also happen to be exhausted and couldn't be more thankful for this long-overdue implosion.

My name is Calypso and I have lived alone

On Monday night, most of the Kropka people went out to party. I tagged along, and it was cheek-muscles-cramping-from-smiling amazing. There was singing, and dancing (the first time I saw Rafal and Piotr, aka the Beauty and the Beast dance - both were quite spectacular, if for different reasons), and drinking, and general merriment. And on Tuesday morning I packed my stuff up and went back to Warsaw to see Suzanne Vega live - still undecided whether I would come back to Wroclaw afterwards, despite the previous night's events.

I went to the concert with filmmix and - unexpectedly - Irmina, who got her ticket as part of some despicable corporate tie-in. I spent the first two songs mildly anxious about how bored she would probably be by the experience - Suzanne isn't exactly the most flash-boom-bang type of performer. The gig itself was a bit uneven - I found myself drifting off at times. The middle part was the strongest, with a killer arrangement of Tombstone (which I had never heard live), My Favourite Plum, and of course Left of Center, which I find to be absolutely enchanting live (it's just vocals, bass, and - as is usually the case with Vega - pretty compelling lyrics). She did, however, play Some Journey, which I love, and then came the encores - 4 songs: Calypso (with a killer, spatially nautical electric guitar background), Rosemary, Pornographer's Dream and In Liverpool. It's not even that much of an exaggeration to say they're my 4 favorite songs. Or at least they represent the absolute pinnacles of achievement in the 4 major emotional realms of her music. I was over the moon.

And it turned out Irmina really enjoyed herself, so things were good.

I eventually decided to go back to Wroclaw for the remainder of the festival - mostly because the appartment was in desperate need of cleaning, and I was in desperate need of not having to wash any dishes and/or vacuum anything. I think it was a good idea. I've developed some sort of laid-back rapport with the Kropka managment, so most of the time I just end up lounging at their Wroclaw HQ, translating odds and ends, and enjoying the general ambience.

Last night we went out drinking again, and I finally got to talk to the girl with whom I had clashed during the run-up to the festival. It's a good thing I did, because while we were completely unable to resolve our differences, I at least learned that I'm an incompetent emotional cripple with personal issues, which is in turn a very good thing to know when you're having second thoughts about how you handled a particular situation. I love the sizzling sound guilt makes as it dissolves in a pool of vitriol.

And today marked ao and Irmina's arrival. We went out to dinner, ate some ridiculously delicious stuff (seriously, Wroclaw rocks cuisine-wise, it makes bulimia seem really appealing), and got shitfaced on Sangria. Right now I'm chilling in my hotel room, riding out the last of my buzz, about to pour myself a bath, and get ready for a night out with fun, intelligent, cheerful people... Those Somalian kids have it a bit worse, right?

p.s. part of a short text message from Asia. In Polish, deal with it : "uslyszalam po drodze goscia, ktory spiewal: 'a ja wole moja mame, bo ma oczy jak twoja stara'

Ballpark

- So, what's the story behind your t-shirt?
- Actually this is one of the very few I own that doesn't have one...

...but I do have this one with two unicorns fucking under a rainbow, which would save us both a great deal of time.

Naturally, I didn't say that outloud.

The least you can do
Is be flattered
By affections squandered

Working at the milk farm

They serve breakfast until 10 a.m. but after getting up at 8:45 for 2 consecutive days I was at the end of my rope, decided I won't be terrorized anymore, and slept in. It was glorious.

Then a bubble bath with Anansi Boys (which are better than I thought they'd be), a short hike downtown, a big mocha, and 4 pieces of mozarella & tomato toast. I'm ready to begin work.

3 peons in the gold mine, 3 peons gathering lumber, and a turret up. Bring it on.

Edit: Ok, a kitten just sauntered in, made its way onto the table next to mine, and lied down on it, preparing for a nap. I feel like I'm in the Eastern Bloc's answer to Ithaca.

Edit2: a random dude just picked the cat up apparently only to peer inquisitively at its genitals, and then tossed it back onto the table. My mellow was somewhat harshed.

Unexpected

Fun fact - I just decided: enough of this bullshit, time to start posting on the Polish(ish) blog again. Except apparently it doesn't exist anymore. I mean, it's still there, you can access it, but I can't log into the admin part of it. Which means, I guess, that I'm stuck with this experiment for better or worse.

Anyway, tonight was some sort of solstice. My main problem during the Wroclaw festiwal usually is being very acutely aware of how far away I am from my power source, and not having a dedicated wingman who would alleviate the resulting anxiety. Even when I come here with friends, I'm never the no. 1 person on their priority list, which means that potentially there are times when I'm either on my own or forced to tailor my plans to someone else's agenda.

Which is, as you can imagine, a nightmare in our time.

All this has heretofore been merely a nuissance. This year, however, I have actual unpleasant shit to deal with (or to desperately try to avoid dealing with, as seems to be the case) and could really use some backup. So, naturally, almost none of the usual suspects bothered to come, and those who did are, by nature of the aforementioned shit, benevolently neutral at best.

The critical evening (for reasons too boring to get into) was tonight, and it sent me into a downward spiral followed by a total mobilization. I tapped ley lines I hardly even sensed, just to get through the potential showdown in one piece - or at least have something to fall back on. The bloodbath thankfully never happened, but I was so flush with reinforcements that sudenly I was having the best time, darting strategically to and fro, and reveling in my newfound sense of security.

All in all, a great evening. I just hope that overkill won't result in some sort of mana burn. Hopefully they abolished that mechanism in this edition.

ENH

I arrived in Wroclaw, and there's already shit I don't need.

Life, the universe, and everything

Hung is off to a very slow start, but it did manage to sum up my entire existence in a single, brilliant telephone monologue:

"I wanted to call you, but I've been been drowning in paper all night, the whole law firm is freaking out... I'm not really certain, some bank is going belly up... I don't know, I just make sure all the words are spelled correctly when it does."

Embrace your redundancy.

Things that are black

I think the thing I miss most about my old room is the sound of rain on the street outside my window, and of the odd car driving in the night over the wet asphalt. There's something about nighttime storms that I find incredibly comforting. The more tempestuous the better. Here, none of my windows face the street (thought that's actually a blessing, JP2 is far too noisy), and something's off with the angles - the raindrops never seem to hit them. And when they do, the sound is abrupt and unpleasant.

When my dad was 20, he decided that he would spend his 40th birthday in Vienna, his 50th in New Orleans, and his 60th in Reykjavik. He went to Vienna alone - it was a big deal back in 1989. Mom tells me that she took me to meet him in Budapest, and then the three of us came back home. The only thing I remember about that journey is that I got a Hungarian Tom & Jerry comic book. We didn't have those in Poland yet. Ten years later, he took me to New Orleans - that trip I recall much better, though for me the entire thing was still mainly about seeing Tori Amos live for the first time in my life. But I do remember walking with him down Bourbon Street on his birthday night.

On Tuesday, I bought him tickets to Reykjavik, trying very hard not to think about the whole thing in terms of a "proper sendoff". I could tell he didn't expect it, but we're both titans of emotional display, so the whole exchange took maybe 10 seconds, and then we were off to the next topic. Mom was incredibly happy, and later told me he actually teared up. Of course I never even noticed.

We'll know on Aug 8th when he starts chemo.

The sky is really uncanny tonight, Pitch black. You can almost feel the void beyond. No moon, no stars, not even any of that reflected city glow. And certainly no rain.

Open'er and other festivals

Back from the coast, with somewhat mixed feelings. It was probably my last Open'er (unless the lineup is totally stellar - never say never and all that). Too much of a hassle for too small a gain, at least music-wise. I was only actually having a good time for a few moments during Santigold's set. Otherwise it was a world of meh tempered with hysteria (Crystal Castles, what the fuck?)

...

Aaand I drifted off to do other shit on the Internet. Writing in English still doesn't come naturally. Anyway, there were several surprises. For one, it was probably one of the most effortless group holidays EVER - at least that's how something in my brain chooses to remember it. We had this easygoing cameraderie, and things just flowed naturally. And most of the time I felt perfectly content with where I was at the moment, which is a new development - I usually keep wondering what's going on with the OTHER groups, regret not staying up with the rest, or resent not having the good sense to turn in when I should have. Yet for some reason during this weekend, I felt equally at ease surrounded by friends as I did making my way home by myself (I was usually the first one to call it a night).

But probably the most interesting - at least to me - part of this weekend was that I returned home yearning for a real vacation. Like... at a lake. Or in the mountains. Or something. I don't think I've done that in... well, years. Ten, maybe more.

I won't write about the obvious stuff, because I beat that horse to death in actual conversation, and I won't write about the less obvious stuff, because I just unloaded that part on an unsuspecting victim. So thank you for reading my Open'er odds-and-ends presentation, and good night.