where there is no phone, and I can't keep tabs on you

[melannen]

I'm just back from from a night of Culture with dreamsquirrel. I feel like I should post something in memory of remembrance day, but I can't think of anything to say that will sufficiently express my gratitude and support to everyone who's been capable of sacrificing their life for freedom, especially the people fighting now. So instead I'll just read what the rest of you have had to say, and then go and be contemplative. (Hopefully, over my novel, since about half the plot involves remembering war.)

ETA: And I just realized I *do* have something remembrance-day-ish to say. The other day I was reading through Lileks.com (the joy of old matchbooks, mostly) and ended up at his patriotica section. And granted I was reading it mostly to get *away* from partisan political maundering, but I'd like to think I'd have been upset by his comments on this anyway. Because I'm very, very tempted to print it out a post it on my door instead of my Kerry bumper sticker, because it exactly sums up my feelings right now. And I really wish half of America hadn't taken it on themselves to pre-empt patriotism.

And, er, happy birthday Lazarus Long!

So, um, the Night of Culture. I met dreamsquirrel at the art gallery while looking over their current exhibition, Fantasy Art from the Frank Collection. Anyone in the area who has the slightest knowledge of fantasy should go see it. It's mostly original paintings of paperback book covers, and it was amazing to see the originals of scenes I'd only seen in print, and to see paintings by people like Boris Vallejo (he of the rainbow-tinted skin) and the Brothers Hildebrant and Ian Miller and Rowena and a bunch of other names I recognized, and I'm not even that into the art side of fantasy. Except for the women in metal bikinis. It's really worth going just for the sheer variety of women in metal bikinis. (There's a symposium on it tomorrow at two, if anyone's free; sadly I have class.)

Then we sauntered over to the PAC for the African Drum Ensemble recital. dreamsquirrel said it was less impressive that it's been before, because it was the first year with new teachers, but I liked it quite. I have a fondness for just plain drums. It's, I don't know, a good drum group can get such a complicated and *communicative* sound and yet it's still so simple and easy to understand in a way anything with melody isn't. There were also two seven-year-old boys playing, and they were *good*. Most of it felt like it was improvisation over a base beat, and I *love* that, I love feeling that work. I miss being in a band.

Anyway, fun concert, although I was expecting something less like a recital. And then I walked dreamsquirrel to his car, and decided to head to the dining hall for a drink.

And, since I have been reading *way* to much Batman fic the last few days, and I was in Caped Crusader mode anyway, I decided to try to walk it Ranma style. You know, walking on the tops of fences whenever it's even halfway feasible? The main thing I learned is that there aren't nearly enough conveniently placed fences between Tawes and the dining hall.

I also learned that I am way out of training for swooping around rooftops in a cape, but that was not entirely a shock, somehow. I was inspired to my efforts by the walls around those pretty and forgotten little courtyards behind the Benjamin Building. Those walls seem to have no other purpose than to be walked along, so I did. They were wide enough that balancing took basically no effort, but since I wasn't brave enough to try to just jump the gates, I had to jump down and get back up every few dozen feet. That wall's over four foot high: It comes up to my shoulders. Ranma or Robin could have done it like *that*. I . . . well, I made it up every time, but it wasn't what you'd call lithe or graceful. Plus, I think I managed to strain something in my thigh.

There wasn't much exciting between there and the terraced walkway between my dorm and the dining hall. But when I got there, I decided that I could walk the black railing along the side there. I used to walk the back railing in the auditorium at my high school, and it wasn't much narrower than that. (Plus it was low enough that I was fairly confident of landing on my feet if I fell.) So I readjusted my shoulder bag and made sure my overalls weren't actively falling down and pulled myself up and ta-daa! Balance! I still have some! At just that point some people came by who were either slightly drunk or just naturally obnoxious, and they told me I was very impressive, and they wanted me to still be up there when they got back. Um, no. I was thirsty. So I started walking it -- verry slowwly -- one foot at a time -- wobble -- oh my god I can't believe I didn't fall that time -- I did learn once and for all that the superheroes are *right*-- a cape is really useful for helping with balance, once you're good enough with it that it doesn't get in the way. However I still fell off about halfway along. Landed square on my feet and on balance though, yay. And then I couldn't get back up-- I could get into a squat balanced on just my toes, but couldn't pull up from it without tipping over too far. I might have been able to do it if I wasn't carrying a shoulder bag on one side, but as it was I had to go back to the corner to get on and start over from the beginning. That just inspired me to make it the whole way this time, though, and I did, without ever really getting out of balance once! I was proud.

But I wasn't stupid enough to continue walking it around the Balcony of Tartarus. (That's my private name for it, anyway, although it's probably not fair to call it that now that the new Commons buildings are up. But two years ago? The manhole covers and phallic pipes spitting oddly-scented steam, the concrete and crumbly asphalt and black iron railing, sheer drop overlooking nothing but the dirty red-colored sky as backdrop to the skeletons, dust and mechanical monsters of the building sites? It *so* made me feel like Saruman in Isengard.) So yeah, I might be willing to trust my balance to three feet drop, but not a dozen, so I jumped down and dashed across to the row of benches behind LeFrak. I ran them flying-squirrel style, with my arms holding my cape flairing behind me, full pelt straight down the middle with the most maniacal look I could manage on my face. But of course, I do that one pretty much every chance I get.

Then I got my drink and took the low road back to the dorm and realized I was covered in cold sweat.

Hey mom? You wanted to know what I want for Christmas? I want some comic books! Preferably, like, a crateful of old, cheaply printed, bad condition ones where you buy the whole crate for $5, but right now I just want comics in general. (And I *need* to read some xf comics, just so you know, stellar_dust. I can't write that thing without at least a hope of them.)

--shoot, and I was just listening to this song to pull lyrics for a title, and I realized I was supposed to call Mom to night. I bet she's gone to bed already. Darn. Hey Mom? Pick me up Saturday night for the play, 'kay?

Comments

[franzeska]

'Tis the season, and another round of that timesucking fic exchange has gotten me thinking about last year. I realize I never did thank you enough for the lovely story you wrote. (I saw your post on the Jewish angle in your own story when I was googling to try to find my argument about my own story to show a friend.)

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Well, you're welcome!

I didn't sign up this year, didn't think I'd be able to do it to the deadline, but I'll certainly be watching.

[luminousmarble.livejournal.com]

I am entranced by the word patriotica. It makes Uncle Saem seem sexy.

Also, yes, I know exactly what you mean by Ranma style. (You're brave to be trying it!)

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Uncle Sam is always sexy! You know, I didn't make the connection with erotica until you posted this.

I learned a lot from Ranma, back in the day.

[stellar-dust.livejournal.com]

XF comics? You want me to bring my whole huge comics binder home for Christmas? Cuz it's .. it's really big. As in, huge. Like, 12x12x4", or so. About 4x the size of the DVD binder. But. If I have room. d-;

Do you need them for the story? It's going to be comic-canon? The stories in them are basically just fic.

[melannen.livejournal.com]

No, I need them so I can draw *pictures*, silly.

And I don't expect you to bring the whole thing, no. But I wouldn't mind getting a chance to look at a couple.

[stellar-dust.livejournal.com]

Ooh, you're *actually* making a comic book story? lol. Ok. In that case I'm sure I can manage to stick one or two in my suitcase; there were a few different artists and I'll try to bring at least one of each.

And maybe Kev will bring me those comics he's had since September. (;

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Not actually planning on making a comic book story at the moment. But comic-book style illustrations are yay. And it just seems silly to do an XF story based on comics without actually having read any xf comics.

mom

[(Anonymous)]

okay, I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon. About 5? Love.

Re: mom

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Yay! Great! Thanks!

hmmm

[theemptylife.livejournal.com]

as a performer in an African drum group I must say, you must be listening to the wrong African drumming. West African music, particularly from the Ewe peoples, is extremely complex and difficult to understand without previous exposure to their subdivisions.

Re: hmmm

[melannen.livejournal.com]

Well, it was fairly simple. It was the class recital, and I think the class is mainly just people who want an easy credit, so it was mostly the class doing a background cadence and one of the teachers or kids improvising over it.

But yeah, It's not that it's not complex, it's just that it's simple too, it's that it's complexity made out of something that's really simple, like eveything that's beautiful. I can pick out dozens and dozens of individual rhythms and beats and follow them but the music as a whole is much, much more than that.

. . . yeah, I don't really have the vocabularly to talk about music well. Plus, completely tone-deaf, which is probably why I like drums.