Notes from above a laundromat

It's been raining for almost four days straight. But the trees are changing early, and it's beautiful. Our housewarming party Saturday night went quite well, though someone told me I looked like Sarah Palin with my glasses and my hair up. Egad.

It seems like a full-time job is not in the cards right now, but with my current engagements I should get by through January. I made $64 tutoring a BU sophomore yesterday. My museum class is meeting at the MFA on Wednesday, I start work in the Meso Lab on Thursday. The English teacher I grade for has informed me I need to grade faster if he's going to continue employing my services. Okay then.

Sadly, I'm going to have to wait on the cat, because I didn't realize Emma hasn't been going in for her allergy shots. I also didn't realize she would need to go in twice a week, and that we don't know yet if her insurance covers them. I think it seems unreasonable to expect her to shell out the money for shots so I can get a cat, though she still says she wants one eventually, so if they're covered we'll go ahead.

And the Thousand Words Award goes to...

Thanks to Yglesias.

Yesterday was fairly miserable, thanks to my stomach's latest failure to function. On the plus side, I read a bunch of David Foster Wallace. RIP. I feel much better today, which is good, because tomorrow I start working -- back at Harvard. Sometimes the thing you were running from turns out to be what you wanted all along.

Even someone with no understanding of economics (say, myself) can tell that Paulson's bailout plan is stupid. Obama needs to say something to convince people he can deal with this kind of thing. If he doesn't win this election, I won't know what to think. The GOP has done everything in their power to demonstrate their incompetence. But because they lie mercilessly, and half the country watches FOX news, there's nothing Democrats can do to level the playing field short of playing their dirty tricks. It's tough being the good guy and having standards.

WANT.

WANT.

WANT.

WANT.

WANT.

WANT.

WFNX Disorientation (with Flogging Molly et al.)

I no longer have a large enough workload to require enough procrastination to write massive and thorough concert reviews. But I should at least make note of them, especially when they're as awesome as last Saturday night was. I was very happy Matt enjoyed himself, because I honestly didn't know if he would. Together we critiqued fashion, mocked drunkenness, and enjoyed some very fine music under one roof.

The first act, annoyingly-named Does It Offend You, Yeah?, failed to impress. I think they hurt Matt's eardrums with their screechy, effect-laden electro-rock, and the tent acoustics didn't help them much. Most of the crowd seemed to agree, using the first hour to buy overpriced hamburgers, snap photos of the skyline over the harbor, and get properly sloshed for the big acts. Next up were Anberlin, filling in for Rogue Wave who were absent due to injury. The sound was not especially friendly to Anberlin either, but it was clear that for all the band's musical blandness, the singer is talented on a level above many of their emoternative peers. Subsequent research informed me they sprang originally from the Christian scene. Who knew. I'd still probably rather have seen Rogue Wave in the end, but it was pleasant.

After a break, the real show got started. The sun had begun to set, the seats had begun to fill, and the BAC had begunto skyrocket: it was time for Alkaline Trio. I was probably as excited to see them as I was to see headliners Flogging Molly. The decade-old trio is (are?) one of the best of their kind, and their early '00s stuff rarely leaves my CD player. I'm not a huge fan of their newest album, which, though listenable, just lacks punch, and thankfully they played about 50% older material, including some among my very favorites "Emma," "This Could Be Love," "Private Eye," and the moving finale "Radio." They also gave a live fire to the newer songs. Matt Skiba talked a lot to us and got an anti-McCain jab in when introducing "Warbrain." They made a lot of tight noise for three guys, and did not let up their pace for a minute . Even though they were technically openers, the show did not shortchange them on set time.

The Kooks, nearly overnight Britpop sensations, were next up, and the shift in fanbase was obvious. The Trio fans had been enthusiastic but serious, containing a large number of twentysomething men. When the Kooks hit the stage, a battle cry rose from the crowd: the unmistakable screams of teen girls. Hoo boy. But fangirls do not always reflect poorly on a band's talent (see Exhibit A: The Beatles), and the Kooks put on a great show. Although it was impossible to understand what the singer was saying in his chatty interludes, his singing was adept and versatile even as he bounded around the stage. In his manner and style he recalled a young Mick Jagger, and the music likewise sent out tendrils of nostalgia for an earlier time in rock. Matt liked the Kooks best of any band that evening, which doesn't surprise me.

Finally, finally, Flogging Molly took the stage. The famous six-piece slice of Celtic pride was a real powerhouse live, as expected, and both their punky raucousness and their virtuostic musicianship were even more apparent. Singer Dave King waxed foul-mouthed and adorable. "I'm not wearing this red tie so as to look like a Republican," he assured us. "I'm wearing it for your f***ing Boston Red Sox!" His love for his wife, who plays the fiddle and the flute in the band, was palpable from the stage, as was his fondness for Boston, cesspool of recovering Irish Catholics. Mixing older songs like "Black Friday Rule" and "Selfish Man" with tracks like "Paddy's Lament" and "Requiem for a Dying Song" off their new disk Float, recorded in Ireland, the band showcased its awesome consistency across the decade. The title track was a highlight, as were the strong selections from Drunken Lullabies (my favorite): "Rebels of the Sacred Heart," "What's Left of the Flag," and "If I Ever Leave This World Alive." The crowd, more physically imposing than the typical audience at one of my shows, was having a grand old time. The ushers tried in vain to preven drunken middle-aged men from dancing in the aisles like hobbits at an eleventy-first birthday party. It was pretty awesome. I felt Irish.

I want a cat so badly.

Oh Microsoft...

Google search for "how do you get rid of those lines in word" returned the following result:

I wish someone had told me before I spent hours and hours on it this summer kthx.

on and on and on

Yesterday, after I closed out the storage unit, we went to IKEA.  From my standpoint the trip went well; I got everything I needed, and nobody fought.  Poor Philip, who can't catch a break, found that the mattress he'd wanted was out of stock.  When we got home, the grudge resurfaced, and it was nasty.

I will not go into the details of Emma's quarrel with Philip.  Suffice it to say that she threatened to move out.  I have faith that this will blow over, as all these things do, but none of us want to be caught in the throes of this stormy personality conflict for five more years.

Assuming we can rebuild some kind of unity, today we're going to Target to get appliances.  This time we're on our own for transport, but Target is fairly close.  Also, the electrician is supposed to be coming.  Out Ikea items are arriving tomorrow, and by Monday the place should resemble a home.  So it goes.

The Fellowship of the Stuff

I knew today was going to be interesting when Matt and I arrived at the lot where we were slated to pick up our Zipcar pickup truck, which appeared to be completely blocked  in from the road by a swath of newly-laid roadwork.  I'm not sure if we got it out of there legitimately, but we made it out whole, which is ultimately more important.  We had the Ziptruck until five, and made good use of it.  We emptied out our storage unit in four trips, though I still have to sweep it and sign it out tomorrow morning (before IKEA). That all went smoothly.  The tricky parts came when we pursued our sundry Craigslist finds. We went to pick up a beautiful kitchen table in Brookline, which was more inconvenient than we had expected due to weird traffic patterns.  It took forever.  Then there was my antique dresser, which was a grunt to transport but looks lovely now.  While we were out, Emma and Philip had been fighting, which is never pretty.  I almost forgot to eat lunch, which is never good.  And at the last minute before Matt had to return the truck, Philip wanted to get this huge desk, which we successfully got in time, and then had no idea how to move upstairs.  It was too heavy and too long.  We spent two hours trying to move it. While Matt returned the truck and Philip tended to the toenail which was spurting blood, Atanu and I stood with the desk on the sidewalk trying to take it apart.  Fail.  Once we got the thing inside the building with the help of our friends, we tried to take it apart again.  Fail.  So we decided to just get it up the stairs in one piece.  Painful, hilarious fail.  There were Philip (toe intact), Lindsey, Matt, Manizeh, Atanu, and I all struggling with this behemoth for two hours (Emma wanted no part of this). We tried taking it apart again, and things began to break off.  Hm.  "Sorry I got a stupid desk," said Philip.  We left it next to the stairwell where we'll attempt to sell it to someone else.  At least he got a chair out of the deal.  A $75 chair.

Oh, and the cleaning company who was supposed to do our place?  They bailed.  Two guys from the management had to come in instead, and they did okay, but the shower room basically has to be completely redone because of the mildew situation, including an electrician installing a fan.  As for the guys coming to paint, they said, better not wait on them to start moving.

Progress was made, though.  All my stuff is in my room, which I've started cleaning myself with supplies purchased by Lindsey and Manizeh.  The dresser looks beautiful, and the only real furniture I will need to buy at IKEA is a bookshelf.  The IKEA trip is the next leg of the journey, and I anticipate to have to keep Emma and Philip separated by several showrooms.

So yes, long day.  It became apparent along the way that Matt is an awesome driver, Manizeh is an expert spatial puzzle solver, and I can't lift a can of beans.  I'm growing antsy to set everything up for real now.

Cambridge for good

The apartment is ours.  All my stuff arrived today as planned.  The bed looks great.  We're still waiting on the cleaning folks the landlord promised, since the place needs it pretty badly.  I'm getting antsy to set stuff up but want to wait in case the painters come, which could happen this week.  Tomorrow we're getting a Zipcar to get stuff from storage as well as a beautiful old dresser I found on Craigslist, and Thursday is the Ikea pilgrimage.  I'm going for minimal Ikea, maybe a bookshelf, a wall shelf, and some cushions for the awesome free loveseat thingy the previous tenants left me.  Things won't be put together until the weekend because we're waiting on the cleanup job, but it's exciting.  I'm keeping my eyes on the job market and have sent out a few more apps.  Still nil. It's not as hot and miserable here as it could be, and it's great living out of Matt's apartment while we get things squared away at our place.  We still have to deal with cable and utilities.  The world is complicated for grown-ups.