I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And the award for the favorite tip-of-the-hat-to-the-President event goes to...

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 20:29:43 GMT

http://www.babeland.com/

Inauguration Day Sale
Whoo yeah

I can't believe how shiny this is

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 19:21:10 GMT

Or how terribly inhuman I feel. With each new website I create, I feel I grow a little closer to being little more than a shell of internet.
We must end this madness with TEA and a let's-find-places-around-the-flat-to-hang-the-damp-laundry party.

While I do that, you internet personalities all go check this out and snort into your beverages over what a fool I can be.

http://thepostcardfactory.blogspot.com/

Also support our theatre collective wholeheartedly: http://www.bebo.com/WaterdonkeyTheatre

October 23- November 3

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 19:50:38 GMT

Those are the dates I will be visiting home!
And that's the latest. Whoohoo, hooray.

Have returned

Sat, 13 Sep 2008 09:35:01 GMT

I cannot say how glad I am to be in Galway once again. From the plane, Ireland was all vibrant green and sparkling and in general looked like heaven.
For those who are unaware, I spent the past few weeks traveling from Switzerland to Italy, then to Barcelona via ferry boat, then Madrid, and then Paris. It was grand and there was a lot of magic to behold and if anyone wants some nice details you may ask for them.
I ate much good food. I also spent many days eating almost nothing at all, for lack of funding (my cash ran out big time toward the end). And I spent time with my sister-- then I spent a lot of time alone. I walked a lot. It was all unplanned, no reservations or maps. I brought with me a ticket out of Paris on Ryanair, and French and Italian pocket dictionaries. I did not bring anything else. I never had to sleep in a train station.
My reflections on the journey are mostly that it was good for me, that travel is a healthful little paradigm-shift that will put your obsessions in perspective and help you achieve greater composure in times of uncertainty and stress etc., etc.; oh, and seeing all the streetlights come on at once in Paris at Place de la Concorde, in the rainy September evening, was one of those fleetingly beautiful times of life when one's sensibilities are elevated far above the concerns of having not eaten that day or the certain death that awaits unwary pedestrians in the Parisian traffic of that hour. How nice for me.

But I am now in the flat in Galway. I have access to good wholesome food for 3 meals a day. I have a shower with elbow room, and hot water every day morning and evening (I can do dishes in hot water!). I have good soap, and shampoo, and the use of the internet daily. I have coffee from Italy. I can use the stove without worrying about rationing the gas (because it's an electric hob!). I have access to a washing machine and a dry place to hang my clothes to dry. I have insulated walls. I have my own room. I have an oven to use once again. Arts, music and theatre events abound, and I need no longer miss them all.
I have two lovely friends to live with.
It's like NIRVANA.

meme

Sun, 10 Aug 2008 20:20:19 GMT

Because I must, and it will be interesting:
If you comment on this meme, I will tell you why I like you. One of the reasons anyway.

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 20:45:03 GMT

Man, I'm out here where it's chilly and the ground is hard and all, but I don't wanna go back to the caravan. I want hot chocolate and a movie. But I have no sugar, and no milk, and no movies. And I want Skype to be successful at getting in touch with home. So far, I've only left messages.

I know. Let's go see if there are BBC jobs available that I could apply for.
Nope.

The streetlamp by this library is pretty in its little mournful way.

Another Address

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 19:47:03 GMT

I got two letters today and it smells like summer and the boat ride was the most beautiful yet. I stood in the stern with my hat backwards so it wouldn't blow off, and smiled with my eyes closed, and when I opened them people were looking at me but I don't think they thought I was nuts.
Here is my Galway address:

4 Rockfort Place
St. Augustine Street
Galway
Ireland

Only three more weeks until I'm done with the island!

Three minutes left until I go to work

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 09:50:23 GMT

Things I've done that the very few people who read this nonsense probably haven't done:

1) Been skydiving

2) Busked

3) Gone down a ski slope on only 1 ski

In which the weather continues cold

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 13:37:56 GMT

Well, I find myself with internet access and no pressing internet things to attend to, such as researching how not to be an illegal immigrant. It is very cold right now, but this is the edge of the Atlantic so I will cut the mid-June weather some slack. I'd cut it more slack if our little mobile home weren't so One with Nature, and could promise me a warm comfortable sleep tonight, which it won't.
The little mobile is grand, but a lot like camping. Our shower is a plastic box of evil and coffin-sized. The pilot light on the little gas water heater has a habit of going off. My bike has another flat.
I miss mountains.
I need to get off the island by August, I really do. I thought it would be fine to stay longer and it would be, but...the frekin' island...I mean, either camping or not camping, right? None of this in-between shit and living off of a couch in a creaky room with windows that won't close and the occasional tick and depressing '70s decor. I'd live outside in the beautiful scenery if I could, but seriously. THIS is why everyone in Ireland spends most of their time in pubs. I miss Galway.
On that note, I shall have lunch, and after lunch I shall be looking for radio jobs in every English-speaking country in the world-- heck, in all the other countries, too. Not excepting my own, where a work permit will not be required of me.

Address (?)

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 22:38:36 GMT

Those who want to attempt to send me post may try this:

Me
Upper Cill Ronain
Inis Mor
Co. Galway
Ireland

If I manage to introduce myself to the postman within the next few days, it ought to work just fine.

To all wage slaves and unsavory malcontented,

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 14:19:53 GMT

Oh, the things that have happened to me.
- I live in a green box the inside temperature of which is the same as the ambient temperature outside except when sunny in which case it is like a sauna. I use gas for all my water heating and cooking needs, and, happily, have figured out how to turn it off.
- I am currently working illegally, and must apply for a work permit, but bureaucracy makes this impossible because, to sum up, we have only one day to spend in Galway; immigration sent us to the Salthill Garda who sent us to the Galway Garda who sent us to immigration who told us that actually our employer, not us, needs to deal with it. They can all suck it and refund our 10 quid in taxies.
- I am done with school forever. After turning in the portfolio we all went and sat on the quay by the Spanish arch and drank a lot; I got a bottle of wine for under €7.
- Every time I think about my portfolio, I want to throw up a little bit.
- Did a bad screw up with the credit card machine the other day, and rang someone up for a large purchase on a questionable American Express card. A mistake 30% ignorance, 10% lack of assertion and 100% idiotic. That €200 will likely come out of my salary if the card is, indeed, a bad card. A good lesson for me and all of the world.
- Might have some more work with Galway Youth Theatre this summer.
- Still want to go see some Italian opera.

The radio show looms. No plan yet. Tune in at 0800 West Coast time to see what I come up with.

Mist off the Atlantic

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 21:17:27 GMT

It smells like the sea. It's not quite fog. It is blowing along, deceptively swift, and though you cannot see past a hundred yards the air feels clear and sweet like a French wine. I want to put on a sweater and sail alone to Newfoundland.

I should be far more worried about the portfolio, which is due so very soon and I have work during most of the day and all, but it is very difficult to be stressed on an island this quiet and small. It's like a giant Zen temple alomst. Do you know, a lot of the wildflowers here don't grow anywhere else anymore?

Though, when it's hazy and you look out at the Connemara mountains from here, it looks an awful lot like a view of the Olympic Penninsula from the waterfront back home. Flat seas and blue hills.

Later, when I have more leisure time than I know what to do with, I will post about tourists and hypocracy.

NEW RADIO SHOW

Tue, 20 May 2008 19:21:37 GMT

I have happily achieved that which I desired, and gotten myself a slot for a new radio show. It is at 16:00 every Tuesday, starting next week. It's only half an hour long and it will feature poetry because it has to be more of a talk thing than a music thing and I've been pondering having a poetry show. It's doable for me, and ought to be fun. I'm also wondering if doing a 15 minute play every week would be of worth. Perhaps alternating the poetry and plays.
Well, so, that's the craic. Spread the word. 16:00 in Galway means 08:00 on the west coast of the USA.

TUESDAYS at 16:00 GMT (Summer time)/ 08:00 Pacific

Flirt FM 101.3

http://www.flirtfm.org/

Also, the show needs a name. I love "The Postcard Factory" but I cannot quite mesh this with the theme. Except by a stretch of the imagination, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Any other ideas? I welcome the straightforward and the absurd, especially the absurd.

, I have a mini panic every time I refresh my email inbox these days, because at some point this week the BBC is going to write me and tell me my application to their trainee-ship didn't make the second cut (don't get hopes up don't get hopes up).

And, finally, I am in the house alone until Thursday night while the roommates are in Cork. Lots of packing and cleaning to do, and plenty of writing as well. Enough food for a week and a half provided I don't mind that three quarters of the meals are pasta and the rest oatmeal and instant coffee. Maybe I will take a bath and then play a tune or three before I got to the pub.

The same even goes for you, livejournal, destoryer of imagination you

Thu, 15 May 2008 08:58:16 GMT

I am cursed by the gods of the internet, for in the past 2 hours I have tried to set up access to two different websites that would provide me with important services, one being the ability to put credit on my mobile phone, the other being the ability to discover how much it would cost to continue coverage with the parent's insurance back in Washington, or if it is better to just get some insurance here.
All these attempts to be grown-up and all stem from a desire to get square with immigration again, which I wanted to do today. It says in my passport that I'm ok to be here until nearly the end of September but my little gaijin card expires on the 21 of this month. I was going to walk over to immigration and sit in the queue all day, then I remembered I'm not covered anymore.

So I am getting rather jaded about the internet, and am looking forward greatly to the chance that I will spend the summer in a mobile home on an island. Because what is the first thing I do in my frustration? Entertain you lot with a tale of it. Given that junk like http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/15/technology/personaltech/15pogue.html?8dpc
is the latest thing, I am ever more in sympathy with the wackos like this
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/08/fashion/08PUNK.html?scp=1&sq=steampunk&st=nyt

Ok, back to it then.

God's Pancakes

Sun, 11 May 2008 17:38:20 GMT

Here's how to make fantastic pancakes. Recalling the basics of the recipe from Raitlin's family, I threw things together to see if it would work and it was lovely.

Start with a pile of flour, two cups or so. Add a teaspoonful or so of baking powder, pinch of salt and several spoonfuls of sugar. mix. Beat an egg and add a generous splash of soymilk to it. Mix. Add this eggy stuff to the flour. Mix. Add more soymilk, gradually, and mix, until it is batter.
Cut a banana into thin slices.
Pour batter. Place some banana slices on the batter-y side of the cake (I suggest a flower pattern but you could also do an anarchy sign or whathaveyou), and sort of smooche the batter over the banana slices with your fingertips or the spatula or something. Then, as with any pancake, flip when the bubbles in the center almost stop popping. When done, serve hot with nutella.

It is officially the most beautiful day in the universe

Mon, 05 May 2008 14:20:06 GMT

The sun is clean and buttery and warm. The trees are cool and newly green. The sky is blue. The birds are chirping.
Remember, Raitlin, when we were doing our final Mars Exploration paper at UPS during a day just as wonderful as this one, possibly the most beautiful day of that whole year?

Today, I would like to....
...play a pick-up game of co-ed rugby involving permanent grass stains and triumphant comebacks against all odds. After which, we'd sprint to the river and throw off our dirt-and-sweat caked socks, and wade. Maybe throw someone in. Maybe jump in ourselves. Nearby, a group of young people would be blowing soap bubbles. Nice and exhausted after some quality river time, I'd head back to the dock outside the apartment, where my roommates and I would hang out with some ice, cranberry juice and Jameson, and I'd practice some mandolin chords. I'd get most of them right in the end. It would be late afternoon by then, we'd be hungry, so we'd return home and I'd make lots of stir-fried vegetables with tahini. We'd put on some tunes while we cooked. Then we'd watch a movie and laugh the snot out of ourselves.

Now I have to get back to the screenplay. But I told Christy that we have to go down on the dock and have a drink for an hour this afternoon.

As happy a man as the sea will allow

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 13:09:06 GMT

I'm finding that it's hard to forget one's birthday. One might as well make the best of it. Like enjoying a nice cold lemon Pepsi on Christmas Day, if that's all there is.
For my birthday, I baked cupcakes which have turned out ok, and frosted them with cheap knockoff nutella. And I bought myself a screwdriver/bike fixing combination tool because I have come to the conclusion that one cannot be a theatre techy unless one has a screwdriver in one's pocket at all times. Not so bad. I mean, who wouldn't want cheap knockoff nutella and a pocket screwdriver for one's birthday? Damn straight.
Today I will be trying to devise a solution to the Cabinet Problem on the set, helping with the opening night show, coming home to the paper and staying up most of the night doing the paper.
But Christy gave me a birthday hug and I have definitely decided I need more of them. That's the problem really. I don't have enough contact, abstract or physical, with people these days. This is also why I love skype.

Dear god I am finally finished

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 00:17:07 GMT

It probably took, if you add up all the hours, somewhere in the ballpark of an entire 24 hour day to forge my radio play from the raw and crappy sound files I recorded and bought.
Somehow, though, thanks to the sleepless night and sheer obsession, I have FINISHED EDITING at... (? oh balls) ONE IN THE MORNING on this day, 12 April, 2008.
So hooray. At least today I also managed to interview a professional light designer for the sake of one of my final essays. I didn't actually make any headway on the 3000 words of final essay draft that I have to turn in Monday, but I'm not concerned. I'm far too tired and triumphant to be concerned. Tomorrow I will continue to sit on my arse, writing reams of writing, and I must also play a rugby game but, most fortunately, it is a home game.
Today I was going to all the businesses in Galway and asking if I could put up posters for the plays I'm helping out with this month, and I managed to avoid all the books for sale until I reached the library where they had a cart of them for 20 cent each or 7 for a euro.
7 books of quality there were not, but there was plenty of amusement to be had. There were instruction books from the '60s on how to ski; they spelled it "ski-ing". There was a "Baby-Sitters' Club" novel which was something of a blast from the past (I'm a little ashamed...). And then I found a real treasure: "Pigeon Racing: Advanced Techniques". It is exactly what it sounds like, a book on how to rear and race pigeons, yet it is, somewhat amazingly, a truly good read. Thus my next radio play will concern itself with this topic.

P.S. It's spring, and you know what I miss? Frog song.

SoundForge-- The Victory

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 05:17:35 GMT

Wouldn't you know it? This is a historic occasion. Baby's first instance of pulling an all-nighter not because of homework, not because of being far from a bed, but because SHE WAS ENJOYING HERSELF.
No, it's not what you think. I am messing about with Soundforge 9.0, crafting this radio play. The quality of the voice recording is somewhat poor. Thankfully, the play is a very forgiving one, as it does best with the sound of ocean waves constantly in the background. This masks the ever-so-subtle background of the Flirt FM broadcast one can hear in the recordings of the actor's voices, and distracts from the tinny sound of the voices themselves. All in all, I think it will be remarkably decent for having been done with essentially no good rehearsal, and on recording equipment that 1) I did not know fully how to use and 2) was somewhat poor.
I thought the thing would be half an hour but I've only done two scenes and it's already that, so probably an hour total. Maybe more, if you throw in the credits.
Anywho it's been brilliant. Though I am all heavy-tired like. You can tell how badly I'm addicted to this sound thing as I was supposed to have emailed in a draft of a paper today and I blew it off in favor of my internship-- and Soundforge.
Say, getting light out now. It's 0600...
Well, might as well keep at it.

arrgh

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 23:12:25 GMT

I finished the application for the BBC job. I spent the whole day on it, in agony. When I say the whole day I mean the whole day, too.
I keep telling myself it was worth all that time and the writing + revising of over 5000 words of impassioned border-line BS not to mention I have to get up tomorrow and finish the 1000 words of homework I put off for this. I only hope that something good comes of it. It was a rather last-minute effort.
Maybe I will call home before I sleep.

hooray for inspiration

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 08:18:39 GMT

What do you do when your campus has a troubling lack of microphones?

You RENT one!

Proof that the universe loves me and wants me to be happy

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 00:03:53 GMT

I have found at least 3 euros on the ground this week. I found a two-euro coin today, which I used to buy a new pencil (blue) and a pencil sharpener. And a scone. Plus I had 30 cent left over.
The postgrad ball is going on now. I refuse to feel guilty that I am the only one of the MADT not there. I don't have that kind of flippin' money anyway, and while I might have been able to gate-crash I didn't really feel like biking over there, to the hotel I did not know the location of, in my sweateshirt and jeans, at 0:15.
Actually I do feel guilty. I probably disappointed everyone by not joining the fun.
I did have the most fantastic evening, though, going to the Crane to see Mike McGoldrick, John Doyle and John Jo Kelly play a gig. (!!) The audience was a little on the drunk and talkative side, but they did most of them seem to worship these guys, as the players were some of the best in the world after all... oh it was grand. I also managed to talk to Michael for three seconds (literally) once the gig was through, and ask if I could use some of his music in the radio play. To which he replied he was absolutely honored. He will probably not remember it later but he is a very excellent person, a nice person of the sort that so many of these musicians seem to be...
So events are working in my favor through these hard times, of keeping the budget tight and the work level intense. Rehearsal tomorrow at 10, class at 3:30, then recording. The only troubling thing: where the hell am I going to find a microphone? Where? Where? No one has one.

Read about my day and then help me with my homework

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 23:44:03 GMT

It is clear out. This means it is extra cold, in that vampire-y sort of way.
I saw the St. Patrick's day parade, which had very little to do with either Ireland or St. Patrick although there were snakes in it. It was likewise full of pushing people and required standing in the cold. But it wasn't really that bad.
I think that St. Patrick's day is no different than any other day, except that as a bank holiday people get a three-day weekend, and there is drinking in the streets and the pubs are more crowded and unpleasant. But I am only speculating, since I am nice and comfortable at home, prowling the internet for job prospects after graduation.
I have found two things that intrigue me. The first is an organization that puts you in touch with organic farms in countries all over the world; you work for a summer, and earn no money but get room and board and whatever experience the life abroad avails. The second thing is a job with the BBC, a paid internship of sorts in production. 18 months and 19,000 pounds sterling. I must apply, I've decided, and likely nothing will happen but if I did have the chance to do it, it would probably be the best thing to do ever especially in terms of Real Job prospects. The disadvantage would be that I assume I would have to move to London, and in doing so I would lose the chance to learn Irish, get super-involved in music and likely the chance to direct, produce or otherwise work on new plays. Well, I suppose London has plenty of Irish pubs with good sessions. And I know a couple people over in England.

ok, lads, help me out. I'm writing a screenplay. A female truck driver, late 20s, drop-dead gorgeous, living for the revenge she plans to take on the crime syndicate that murdered her father, has driven off in her rig with an 18-year-old boy who was working as a busser at the truck-stop restaurant where one of the members of the Mob the truck driver meant to kill was shot dead by another man. The boy was working in order to pay for his imminent college education, the financial brunt of which he must now bear as the Christmas trees on the tree-farm his parents own were cut down and stolen while the family was on a summer vacation.
The truck driver and the bus boy are heading for California to try and 1) avoid the Mob, as they have been pursued and in danger since leaving the restaurant, 2) find out who was behind the murder and 3) find out if there is anyone else they should be taking revenge on. The bus boy is not totally clear on all this yet, but he's absolutely smitten with the truck driver.
But what should happen to them in California? Anything goes here. You could tell me that they contract Chicken Rabies and get cured by a 97-year-old zen alchemist from Vancouver BC if you want and I'll consider it. It's that part of the plot that always eludes me: the 3rd 4th. I know the end and I've had all kinds of fun writing out a treatment of the beginning, but now I need fun exciting unexpected things to happen.
Even writing this has helped. Maybe tomorrow I will post the entire plot just for the craic.

My this turned out to be a right novel

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 01:25:27 GMT

Well, I went to the Quays tonight to see the spectacular band. It was good. I brought Mr. Fabulous the computer so I could get writing done, and write I did. I also introduced myself to Declan the mandolin player and asked if he ever gave lessons; he doesn't at the moment, though there is hope for the future. It's just as well since I'm too busy myself to take lessons right now, not to mention broke.
But jesus, lads, the wind tonight was something else. It's a literal gale out there, with the kind of gusts against which human beings are physically incapable of making headway. The river is straining at its banks, with a muddy color and an evil current. Hail is falling sporadically. When it's not hailing there are stars to be seen. We even had a bit of crescent moon earlier. In other words, it's goddamn creepy out there.
Every time I have to walk alone at night down the sketchy path from campus to Corrib Village I swear to god I'm never going to do it again, and tonight was the worst. So I'm jogging along, hoping that I will not get mugged or murdered, and glad that at least the Corrib Village security is within striking distance in their little box by the gate. Except that when I got to the main gate no one was there. Did I mention that Corrib Village management recently sent us a letter informing us that at some undisclosed time between the 25 and 28 of March they're going to "inspect" our kitchen and charge us for every kitchen utensil that is 1) not clean at the time or 2) absent, when according to the inventory list it should be present? I've written a petition in protest of this particular stupidity because the management seem to have forgotten that back in the beginning of the year they never provided us with the missing inventory we told them we didn't have. If we get charged for inventory we never got then I will never rest until this place goes out of business. One would think they'd concern themselves a bit more with things of greater importance, like keeping security by the gates at night.
The presence of security guards could, for instance, prevent fucktarded freshmen from going around in their cars and throwing partially-boiled eggs at people who are trying to walk home. People like me. I was only thirty seconds from my door and they got me directly in the ear--and the wind was with them so they hit me pretty hard. I'd like to throw a few hardboiled eggs at their nuts. May they all get the clap.
Oh and job hunting today was a mixed success. I accidentally left my folder full of CVs at one restaurant and had to go back for it (shite, shite). I talked to a couple of managers but they were either not hiring or less than thrilled about my total lack of latte-making experience. Mostly it was more of the same: give CV to employee, hope to hear back. All I can really do now is carry on in this fashion as far as I am able and start being one of those people who carries their phone everywhere just in case.

I have Conqured InterLibrary Loan

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 18:32:32 GMT

The process of getting books from other colleges' libraries is full of mirages and misleading instructions and requires a bit of a quest even once the difficulties are surmounted. But by god I now have three books coming along to me from Trinity.
Cherry trees are blooming 'round here. It was snowing in Glasgow, though, on the day we left-- snow that even our Canadian ruggers had respect for. This is typical of the Scotland I vaguely remember. Honestly I think Scotland boasts a far more awesome landscape than Ireland. From the train to the airport a scene presented itself: the Irish sea, gray; beyond that the highland mountains covered in snow, and along the left half of the sky the smoky, heavy black clouds curled up in what looked just like a tidal wave of imminent cold. The light on the other half of the sky was yellow.
That was the one thing about Scotland that got me down: it was bloody cold. The cold would vampire away my life. From the rugby pitch on Sunday, we could see a tall tower looming out of the winter woods on a hill nearby. This tower was so spiky and looming that it made the landscape look like something out of a Gothic fantasy novel and also made it seem much colder.
But we did win our games.
I feel much better to-day than I did yesterday. I'm going to do sound for a play in the Town Hall theatre Friday and Saturday, and yesterday at rehearsal for said play I met a spectacular individual who bought me a drink, and I'm cracking away at the radio play...so long as I keep it up I will live to triumph.
Now for some kraft dinner.