OE at MSG - 03.04.17 :: easily the best concert i’ve ever been to. ever.
Today’s my Hitchhiker’s Birthday… it’s been kind of meh, to be honest.
Saturday was the 25th anniversary of my mother’s death and I decided to go to CT. I ran in almost knee-deep snow (in sneakers!) to her grave and spent 20 minutes spewing every negative thought I’ve had during the course of those 25 years. Yeah, it was fucked up, but it was SO freeing.
After that, I stood at the side of the road and read a blog entry to my grandparents. It was the blog entry I wrote about our trip to Lviv. My pronunciation sucked, but the thought was there.
Totally random - next to my usual parking spot, they were preparing for a burial. It was a woman I’d grown up with, a close friend of my grandparents. Wasn’t ready for that.
Another totally random thing - my uncle’s been dead for FIVE YEARS and the stone hasn’t been updated yet. FIVE FUCKING YEARS. WHAT THE FUCK IS MY AUNT DOING?!?!!?!?
Once I got my fill of hanging out with dead people, I went to my little brother’s house for a birthday lunch. It was a good time. We went for a walk and shared some deep things that we both needed to unload. I don’t want to go another six months before I see him again… I’m not sure I can go another six months without seeing him again.
Then, I went to a BMS show in Cambridge. So nice for there to be a show only an hour from home. Their drummer’s been problematic since he started and this show was particularly horrid. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the old drummer was there. He was singing because one of the other members had laryngitis and it did not go over well when he pointed out that the drummer was too loud or too fast.
It was a nice break from the shitshow that my life is. I’m working through a lot of things right now and I’m not sure what’s being exacerbated by the bipolar and what’s just really fucked up. It’s harder to make decisions when everything is murky. Either way, I knew which decisions need to be made and I know what my decision is… I just don’t have the balls to pull the trigger and walk away from a situation I might be reading wrong.
Я не здамся без бою.—> The story of my life right now. *sigh*
Стіна, Для тебе, і Мить
Gearing up for a concert that I don’t yet have tickets for… but I have THREE alarms set on my phone so I don’t miss the presale.
That’s not obsessive, is it?
I just came back from a week in Phoenix and I AM DYING.
I went on this business trip with an extroverted co-worker and even though we had separate hotel rooms and were in separate classes, she was like this huge energy vampire whenever we were in each other’s company.
I got home well after midnight last night and was just so emotionally drained that there was no chance I would be functional today.
I’m pissed and disappointed, but judging by the amount of energy I’ve had today, I definitely wouldn’t have survived. I lost $75 if they won’t let me reschedule. I don’t mind losing it; it was for the best.
I also cancelled my trip to the Putnam Den to see Black Mountain Symphony.
In happier news - here’s a kick ass cover of Okean Elzy’s “In Heaven / In the Sky” (depending on the translator, I guess)
I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…
My first introduction to music, real music, was at my aunt’s house. Bowie and the Stones were played in constant rotation. My aunt had a love for Bowie that was only rivaled by her love for Mick Jagger. She loved Bowie so much, she dressed up as Ziggy Stardust for Halloween.
Bowie’s music was so woven into the tapestry of my life that when things disintegrated between my aunt and I, my CDs and mix tapes went into deep storage. I only listened to him when I happened upon his music via the radio or tv. To willingly listen to it tore open wounds that - a fuck ton of years later - still haven’t healed properly. It’s weird how music gets tangled up in the mundane operations of day-to-day living to the point where the situation and the soundtrack are so intertwined that you can’t have one without the other. Bowie will forever be trapped in 1975 - 1992, at 26 Marmor Court, Wethersfield, CT… and the mere thought of hearing any of Bowie’s music takes me right back there. It’s not always a happy place.
Worlds collided in an unexpected way the other day when I saw the headline on the Ukrainian language version of the BBC’s website. The photo caught my eye, and I skimmed the headline looking for words I recognised. It was easy enough: Died Singer David Bowie. I was so thrilled that I understood the headline, that its meaning didn’t sink in right away.
And then the tears came…
And Ziggy played guitar…
suzy-q ukie fest, 2009
Alternatively, I could’ve titled this “How I’ve learned to embrace alcoholism”
I don’t think it’s a secret that I love music, so one of the ways I’ve been learning Ukie is by listening to Ukrainian music (ska/punk/rock). Listening / learning goes a little like this:
First listen: OH! I REALLY LIKE THIS BEAT!
Second listen: Wait. I think I understand that… something, something, something LOVE! Something about reading. Birds?
And so on and so forth until I feel confident in matching the sounds and can sing along.
The newest band I’ve been listening to, TIK, is one of the headliners at the Toronto Ukrainian Festival. (Which I will be attending and hopefully conversing mostly in Ukrainian. It’s good to have goals.)
Anyhoo, my first listen to “АЛКО голізм” went something like this:
OH. FUCK. Are they saying what I think they’re saying?
My second listen went like this:
OH. FUCKING. FUCK. That’s fucking catchy as fuck. Fuck.
My third listen went something like this:
Drink. Water. Alcohol. Where. Here. People. Alcoholism. Hand. Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! There is not. Alcoholic. Vodka and beer. Drink. Yes (so?). You cannot. I want to live. You need to drink. Alcoholism. Hand. Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! I do not know who is and I do not know who. No drink. Morning. Day. Soviets. Communism. Alcoholism.
OH. FUCKING. FUCK. *dies*
So. Yeah. Not only do I know more than I thought I did, but… I’ve become the walking definition of irony.
The girl whose parents both died from complications due to alcoholism’s favourite song is about drinking. With a chorus that’s basically Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!
Seeing how my translation is rudimentary at best, I think I got the wrong idea. The band’s name is an abbreviation of the Ukrainian phrase “Тверезість і культура” which means “Sobriety and Culture”, and Google (and Bing) translate also make me think my original thoughts are wrong.
Either way, give it a listen. Let me know what you think.