Over the course of my college career there have been hundreds of albums that I have acquired. Some of these albums are just part of the absurdly long list of songs in my iTunes. Other albums still continue to be played as regularly as they did when I first got them. In my time here there were several albums that came out that I could not wait for. These albums, I was not alone in my anticipation, and as such there were listening parties for these albums.
Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
The first album this ever happened for came in late winter of Freshman year. I was never a die-hard Modest Mouse album. At this point in my life I shunned most of their earlier stuff, really only latching on to Moon and Antarctica and Good News For People Who Like Bad News. Tom Murphy is a huge fan, however, and as I mentioned before, spent a lot of time in my dorm room that year. As such, Modest Mouse became a regular in my music rotation and my excitement about their upcoming release built. The band would be having two tracks with guest vocals from Shins' front man James Mercer and they had added Johnny Mar from the Smiths as a guitarist.
I remember we listened to that entire album straight through. I sat at my desk for most of it, just taking it all in. Up until this point I had never really taken my first listen of an album too seriously, but starting this night I began doing my best to make my first listen of an album I cared about to be one where I listened from start to finish in one sitting, doing little else. Throughout this entire listen Tom was all over the place in my room, dancing around on chairs and whatever else. I remember it being late, but it didn't matter, we were loving every minute of this album.
Chiodos - Bone Palace Ballet
As part of my effort to branch out sophomore year I instantly started spending time with Chris Camisa. Almost immediately after we came back to college, Chiodos released Bone Palace Ballet. I got into the band at the end of High School and was excited about the new release. Having listened to one of the songs that was released on their myspace a few weeks prior, I couldn't wait to hear the whole album. Chris' friend, I believe, sent him the album and I hurried over to listen to it, accompanied by Kristen.
Unfortunately by the time he got the album it was pretty late and as would be evident throughout the rest of the year, the walls were thin, and his neighbors had an early bed time. I remember being crowded around the computer barely being able to talk because of how low the music had to be. This was unfortunate because the first listen should be at moderate to loud volume for any album so you can hear all of it and let it engulf you.
There were several moments of silent but substantial reactions we all shared at absurd pinch harmonics or shrill vocal notes. At the end of the album I felt tired, not because of how intense the album is (it is, however) but because I had been slightly hunched over and sitting in close-to-silence for 40 minutes.
Radiohead - In Rainbows
On October 1st after 4 years since their last full album, Radiohead announced that in 10 days their new album would be available for download in their famous 'pay what you want' format. Until this announcement, news of their new album had gone cold. There had been scattered reports in the previous year of them spending time in the studio, maybe wrapping things up, going back to the studio, etc. Then after a stretch of nothing, the band emerged with this announcement.
October 10th, 2007. 2 am. I finally got my email and downloaded the album. I remember my first reaction was "only 10 tracks!" I, like Modest Mouse, had not gotten into Radiohead until college and mostly at the hand of Tom Murphy. I had an album or two before college and liked some of their songs a whole lot but that all increased with Tom. So, at 2 am the two of us sat down in my dorm room and pressed play. I remember the smile that hit both of us as the first track switched from the electronic sound they had showcased so much on the past two albums and Thom's solo effort to the full band. This listening party was much different than the last. There was almost a reverence to it. There was no dancing around, there was no real activity. The two of us just sat there and listened to the whole thing. I remembered when it ended I considered starting it over just because of how quick it went by. But the combination of the somberness of the last track and the time it now was, we called it a night. This album, to date, holds the most plays on my iTunes.
Underoath - Lost In The Sound Of Separation
Several other albums came and went before my next, and really last listening party. I could not wait for this album. This first time I listened to Underoath was a combination of disbelief and intrigue. Fall of my Junior Year of High school a girl I worked with burned or lent me about 30 albums she had based on a few things I told her I listened to. Included in these would be Saosin's Translating The Name and Underoath's They're Only Chasing Safety. The first time I listened to Safety, I immediately was stunned. I had never heard music were 90% of the vocals were screaming. I listened to screaming in music before with The Used and such, but there was always a vast majority of singing over screaming. This album, which starts with a bang, totally caught me off guard. I remember bringing the cd to a friend's house who was my drummer at the time and putting it on. We both laughed at how absurd it was. There was nothing but screaming. Skipped track after track. Even one or two that started quiet or with singing eventually went right back to screaming. But for some reason, when I left his house that night I wanted to listen again. I wanted to hear it in full. Something about those brief listens had caught my attention and I needed to hear more.
Years later and after the release of their gargantuan album Define The Great Line, they were releasing Lost In The Sound Of Separation. Chris Camisa, now a roommate of mine, had gotten the album before me, and put it on his iPhone. He brought it in and told me to brace myself, the copy he got was shitty quality. He still thought it was good enough to listen to and insisted I do so. He plugged it into my speakers and pressed play. The album opens with heavy drums with a lot of reverb, vocals pushed in the back and no music. Also, it only was coming out of one channel. I was instantly bummed at the quality and braced myself for frustration through the next 35 minutes. The song, just as it starts seemingly ends with a sloppy drum fill and then with a little fuzz in the background you can tell it's coming back. It's rearing it's ugly head. Blasting out of both speakers now and in incredible quality, the first track comes into full force and it is as brutal, if not more so, that their previous effort, continuing the path of that and it's predecessor. I looked over to see him smiling, knowing he tricked me into thinking this copy was a poor quality copy.
The next 35 minutes flew by and I was instantly addicted. Very rarely do albums hit me enough to make me put them on repeat. I listen to a lot of different music and my most played song has only been played about 30 times, and I have had it for 3 years now. So when I say that a roommate of mine after 2 days commented about how I was going to wear it out by playing it so much, its a substantial thing to mention. Some people feel/felt that this album was more of the same after Define. To me I saw it as a whole new monster. Lyrically it was much much darker and more personal. Musically, it felt more together. The previous album they tried their hand at something new and it was beautiful. Now they had mastered it. The tones, the arrangements, the planned looseness of the songs, some feeling like they might fall apart at any second because of how chaotic and dirty it sounded, it all just blew me away. It is my go-to album when I am looking for something brutal to put on.
I am sure there are a few other albums whose first listens were with the company of others, but these ones stand out in my head. Each of these albums are albums I still listen to and ones I can remember vividly, the excitement for the release, the energy while listening to them, etc. It's a magical thing to be this interested and this moved about the release of new music. It's the excitement that has disappeared in a lot of ways due to album leaks and the instant gratification of the digital download. I try my best to not ever get an album before it's release date even if it leaks. This year especially I have bought more music than I have in a while. All of the music I have bought is physical copies, and there is definitely a sense of added joy when you have the physcial copy, the album art, or the vinyl, paging through the rows of cds or records in a store searching for a new release. It's magical.
Music should be shared. Buying it in person, with other music lovers is part of the experience intended by the art form. We go in droves to witness a new movie, and music is the same. Listening to an album with a bunch of people, a bunch of friends, for the first time is a great experience and one I suggest you try.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Being A Part Of Something
There is this electricity that comes with recognizing that you have just taken part in something with a room full of strangers. Certain moments in life where people collectively accomplish something leave the individual with an incredible internal sensation.
While the moment I am referring to was not really life changing or charitable, it was still one that left me in a state of awe. The fall of my Junior Year, myself along with a few friends went to see Feist in the city. I really enjoy her music and had seen her once before, prior to actually getting to know her music. She was supporting Bright Eyes on a non-album tour and instantly caught my attention.
A few years later she would put out The Reminder, and further convince me of her music talent. I don't remember being terrible excited for this show. Feist, while very good, isn't someone who is necessarily exciting. Her music is very subtle in its upbeat-ness. The show turned out to be very much enjoyable. It would probably have been a little better at a seated venue as it is not the style that you need to be on your feet for.
About midway through the set, Leslie started talking to us about something she wanted to try. Trying to decide how to split up the audience, she eventually chose first letter of your first name. So she would pick a series of letters, say A-E. She would then assign people in this group a note to sing. First she would hold the note, and she would then have everyone join in. She did this for the entire alphabet, assigning everyone something to sing.
Not everyone can sing. Further than that, even less people are able to reproduce a note they aren't currently hearing. It is one thing for someone to say, "sing AHHH" and you open your mouth, start producing a note somewhere near there, and adjust until you match it. It is a whole different monster to be told a note to sing, and then 2-5 minutes later (depending on where you fell in the alphabet and how late or early you got your note-assignment) reproduce that note without any guide.
So, with almost no hope that this would be anything other than very comedic and a fun task, I closed my eyes and listened to her count down. And then I was no longer in a the crowd of a concert in the city. Instead, I transported. Instantly I was in the middle of a one thousand member choir in a giant church of some sort. Somehow, despite everything pointing against this as a good idea, or how little chance there was of it sounding good, we sounded together. Moreso, we sounded beautiful. Everyone, still holding their notes looked around and started to smile. We were all in disbelief of what we had accomplished. It was so pure and so unexpected I can still recall how it sounded, what I saw when I opened my eyes, and how it felt. It was something incredibly spectacular to be apart of. A room of over one thousand people joined together by singing one thing. It was different than the crowd chanting along lyrics. There was this sense of accomplishment that propelled the moment beyond that and into something really fantastic.
I have been to almost one hundred concerts and I have so many great memories but this is the richest one.
(here is an example of what we did. in this show she used birth year instead of the alphabet)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JThX433Kc2I&feature=related
While the moment I am referring to was not really life changing or charitable, it was still one that left me in a state of awe. The fall of my Junior Year, myself along with a few friends went to see Feist in the city. I really enjoy her music and had seen her once before, prior to actually getting to know her music. She was supporting Bright Eyes on a non-album tour and instantly caught my attention.
A few years later she would put out The Reminder, and further convince me of her music talent. I don't remember being terrible excited for this show. Feist, while very good, isn't someone who is necessarily exciting. Her music is very subtle in its upbeat-ness. The show turned out to be very much enjoyable. It would probably have been a little better at a seated venue as it is not the style that you need to be on your feet for.
About midway through the set, Leslie started talking to us about something she wanted to try. Trying to decide how to split up the audience, she eventually chose first letter of your first name. So she would pick a series of letters, say A-E. She would then assign people in this group a note to sing. First she would hold the note, and she would then have everyone join in. She did this for the entire alphabet, assigning everyone something to sing.
Not everyone can sing. Further than that, even less people are able to reproduce a note they aren't currently hearing. It is one thing for someone to say, "sing AHHH" and you open your mouth, start producing a note somewhere near there, and adjust until you match it. It is a whole different monster to be told a note to sing, and then 2-5 minutes later (depending on where you fell in the alphabet and how late or early you got your note-assignment) reproduce that note without any guide.
So, with almost no hope that this would be anything other than very comedic and a fun task, I closed my eyes and listened to her count down. And then I was no longer in a the crowd of a concert in the city. Instead, I transported. Instantly I was in the middle of a one thousand member choir in a giant church of some sort. Somehow, despite everything pointing against this as a good idea, or how little chance there was of it sounding good, we sounded together. Moreso, we sounded beautiful. Everyone, still holding their notes looked around and started to smile. We were all in disbelief of what we had accomplished. It was so pure and so unexpected I can still recall how it sounded, what I saw when I opened my eyes, and how it felt. It was something incredibly spectacular to be apart of. A room of over one thousand people joined together by singing one thing. It was different than the crowd chanting along lyrics. There was this sense of accomplishment that propelled the moment beyond that and into something really fantastic.
I have been to almost one hundred concerts and I have so many great memories but this is the richest one.
(here is an example of what we did. in this show she used birth year instead of the alphabet)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JThX433Kc2I&feature=related
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
An Adventure Story
Sophomore year, my interest in photography was increasing. I had taken a class in high school where it really started. I really loved taking photos, and the way the class was designed, I got to practice taking all different types of them.
Warren Rati, someone who I had gone to high school with, is really big into photography. He probably has close to 10 cameras at this point. He had told me of a store called B&H Photo that, if I ever wanted to go somewhere looking for anything photography related, this was the place. So, at the start of sophomore year, we decided to make the trip to this store so he could introduce me to the world of photography properly.
We knew Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur had passed, and that it was not a Saturday so we'd be in the clear. If you are unfamiliar with B&H, which is very possible, the store is run and mainly employed by Jewish individuals. I was very excited to check this place out. I had considered looking into purchasing a serious camera and starting to work on photography and this would really be my jumping off point. B&H is on the corner of 34th and 9th and so we made our way through the subway system taking the D to the A and then walking along 34th street, only to be dissapointed. Turns out that there was a lesser known Jewish Holiday currently being observed. Succos is a week long and it was the middle of the week. It would be wasted trip.
But as with any trip Warren and I take into the city, it would not fall apart. Instead we decided to wander. Looking south along 9th, we noticed what seemed to be an abandon warehouse style building that looked pretty cool. It's like out of a tv show or movie, one where kids hand out in and maybe throw rocks through the panes of glass for entertainment. We headed in the direction of this place passing a very large scale construction site and a few, seemingly out of place, high end car dealerships before reaching the building. We walked down the street and to our dismay found that what looked abandoned from six block away was actually a fully functioning building. Once again the day seemed to be shot.
Then we turned around. There was, on the first level of this other very tall building a glass door which a name on it. The door frame and door itself seemed very out of place. They were new, or at least much newer and cleaner than the building. We approached it, and opened the door. We had no idea we had just stumbled upon the Chelsea Art District. For the next few hours we wandered from door to door down this street checking out every gallery, talking to the people inside, collecting cards and pamphlets, and just taking it all in. This was the most out of place and intriguing setting for a series of art galleries. If anyone were ever to hear of the Chelsea Art District or stumble upon this place not knowing what it was he or she would be equally surprised and confused.
After having our minds literally blown and the discovery of such a community we headed to the water and then continued south. The day would not be over for us. Warren is a little more free when it comes to adventure in the city than I am. As an example, we noticed what looked to be a very cool barge docked along the water front. The dock itself, unlike the rest of the docks leading to docked boats, was open. Warren, for whatever reason, wanted to go explore this barge. How this was not trespassing, I am not sure, but other than my hesitation that the gate should have been locked and was not so accidentally, I did not think this way either. We climbed onto the barge and Warren started snapping pictures. We circled around it and headed to the back, facing the water. It was a beautifully calm site. There would be no great sky or sunset, as it was a cloud covered day, but view and the water still had a soothing effect. At this end of the boat, directly behind us, was a wall of glass which had an elevated wooden floor area. In our time out there two individuals actually showed up and started to do some sort of yoga in this area for a short while. We continued around the barge, heading back down the other side and looked a little more closely now. It became apparent that this barge was once a restaurant. There were stove tops and counters, elements of a small but unquestionable kitchen area. Eventually, someone emerged from below the deck to confirm that this in fact was a restaurant that is closed in the off season. They were going to totally rennovate the place. We then realized that this wooden floor area resembled a ballroom floor. It was not large, but it backed with the glass wall looking out onto the water just seemed to be the most interesting and out of place site I ever came across.
To top things off, there was a Foosball table amongst all of the junk piled at the front end of the ship. Most likely brought by one of the renovators, we found ourselves playing Foosball for about another hour. We finally left the barge after it grew cold, and walked north along the water before heading back in town and up to the Bronx.
It would take me over 2 years before I would ever get back to B&H photo with Warren for my inagural walk through. This would fall a year and a half after purchasing my first digital camera, a bit late for this walk through to be my jumping off point, but no less awe inspiring. The store is massive and really does have it all.
I've never forgotten this trip Warren and I took. It really is a prime example of what a day in the city for the two of us might result in, and only glimpse at the strange encounters of Warren's daily routine. With no other person could I have come home and told someone that while the store we intended to go to was close we did stumble upon a secret art gallery street in the first floor of warehouses followed by wandering onto a barge that doubles as a restaurant where I played foosball for an hour. I think everyone owes it to themselves to go on an adventure like this. It is almost impossible, with this city, that you won't find something worthy of a story later on.
Warren Rati, someone who I had gone to high school with, is really big into photography. He probably has close to 10 cameras at this point. He had told me of a store called B&H Photo that, if I ever wanted to go somewhere looking for anything photography related, this was the place. So, at the start of sophomore year, we decided to make the trip to this store so he could introduce me to the world of photography properly.
We knew Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur had passed, and that it was not a Saturday so we'd be in the clear. If you are unfamiliar with B&H, which is very possible, the store is run and mainly employed by Jewish individuals. I was very excited to check this place out. I had considered looking into purchasing a serious camera and starting to work on photography and this would really be my jumping off point. B&H is on the corner of 34th and 9th and so we made our way through the subway system taking the D to the A and then walking along 34th street, only to be dissapointed. Turns out that there was a lesser known Jewish Holiday currently being observed. Succos is a week long and it was the middle of the week. It would be wasted trip.
But as with any trip Warren and I take into the city, it would not fall apart. Instead we decided to wander. Looking south along 9th, we noticed what seemed to be an abandon warehouse style building that looked pretty cool. It's like out of a tv show or movie, one where kids hand out in and maybe throw rocks through the panes of glass for entertainment. We headed in the direction of this place passing a very large scale construction site and a few, seemingly out of place, high end car dealerships before reaching the building. We walked down the street and to our dismay found that what looked abandoned from six block away was actually a fully functioning building. Once again the day seemed to be shot.
Then we turned around. There was, on the first level of this other very tall building a glass door which a name on it. The door frame and door itself seemed very out of place. They were new, or at least much newer and cleaner than the building. We approached it, and opened the door. We had no idea we had just stumbled upon the Chelsea Art District. For the next few hours we wandered from door to door down this street checking out every gallery, talking to the people inside, collecting cards and pamphlets, and just taking it all in. This was the most out of place and intriguing setting for a series of art galleries. If anyone were ever to hear of the Chelsea Art District or stumble upon this place not knowing what it was he or she would be equally surprised and confused.
After having our minds literally blown and the discovery of such a community we headed to the water and then continued south. The day would not be over for us. Warren is a little more free when it comes to adventure in the city than I am. As an example, we noticed what looked to be a very cool barge docked along the water front. The dock itself, unlike the rest of the docks leading to docked boats, was open. Warren, for whatever reason, wanted to go explore this barge. How this was not trespassing, I am not sure, but other than my hesitation that the gate should have been locked and was not so accidentally, I did not think this way either. We climbed onto the barge and Warren started snapping pictures. We circled around it and headed to the back, facing the water. It was a beautifully calm site. There would be no great sky or sunset, as it was a cloud covered day, but view and the water still had a soothing effect. At this end of the boat, directly behind us, was a wall of glass which had an elevated wooden floor area. In our time out there two individuals actually showed up and started to do some sort of yoga in this area for a short while. We continued around the barge, heading back down the other side and looked a little more closely now. It became apparent that this barge was once a restaurant. There were stove tops and counters, elements of a small but unquestionable kitchen area. Eventually, someone emerged from below the deck to confirm that this in fact was a restaurant that is closed in the off season. They were going to totally rennovate the place. We then realized that this wooden floor area resembled a ballroom floor. It was not large, but it backed with the glass wall looking out onto the water just seemed to be the most interesting and out of place site I ever came across.
To top things off, there was a Foosball table amongst all of the junk piled at the front end of the ship. Most likely brought by one of the renovators, we found ourselves playing Foosball for about another hour. We finally left the barge after it grew cold, and walked north along the water before heading back in town and up to the Bronx.
It would take me over 2 years before I would ever get back to B&H photo with Warren for my inagural walk through. This would fall a year and a half after purchasing my first digital camera, a bit late for this walk through to be my jumping off point, but no less awe inspiring. The store is massive and really does have it all.
I've never forgotten this trip Warren and I took. It really is a prime example of what a day in the city for the two of us might result in, and only glimpse at the strange encounters of Warren's daily routine. With no other person could I have come home and told someone that while the store we intended to go to was close we did stumble upon a secret art gallery street in the first floor of warehouses followed by wandering onto a barge that doubles as a restaurant where I played foosball for an hour. I think everyone owes it to themselves to go on an adventure like this. It is almost impossible, with this city, that you won't find something worthy of a story later on.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Professional Procrastinator
Recently I wrote on my other blog how I have continued to get worse and worse at starting any kind of assignment in advance or even with a decent amount of time. As college has progressed I have needed less and less time to write longer assignments.
Luckily I have less classes now. My first semester of my sophomore year was one of those semesters where every class was running the exact same schedule. As such, they all had a final assignment or final project, in addition to an actual in-class final. Most of the time, when you have one you don't end up having the other. No such luck, here. While I was well aware of the number of assignments that I was responsible for handling, all with due dates that fell in the same week, I did nothing to space them out. Here is a look at what my away message was Sunday night leading into that final week:
oh procrastination
last week of classes and so much stands between me and my freedom:
4 page history paper
8 page philosophy paper
4 page psychology analysis
10 page sociology literary review
(1) 5 minute presentation for statistics
3 Chapter reviews for statistics
5 finals
I tried going back through my files on my computer looking for some of these assignments but I had no luck finding anything. I remember the night before the last day of classes. On this particular day I had three classes, all with a major paper due. This particular day I had a review of a book due for psychology (which was not even included in that list above as something to do) as well as a the 10 page paper for sociology and the 4 page history paper.
I wrapped up the history paper, for the most part, pretty early on in the day. The plan was to be done writing the sociology paper by 9 or 10. My psychology paper, which was due at 8 am, was a pretty simple assingment. I had to review a book released by the woman known as 'Super Nanny' and look at it from a child-psych development perspective and write about it's accuracy. I actually picked this topic as a felt that someone who has the voice of television and now a book should probably be looked at from a psych/developmental standpoint as a way of criticizing her, mostly, untested methods.
Well, as with any paper written by any normal college student, I was unable to stay on task. Midnight came. Midnight went. I think I finally wrapped up my sociology paper around 1:30 am. At this point my roommates had retired and with our room being an 8 by 10 hole in the wall, I moved to the lounge next door. This lounge was never used, so essentially I had an extra room. The downside was that earlier in the semester someone had come into the room and thrown up on the couch. Regardless of the effort of the cleaning staff, the room smelled from then on and even more so when the room got hot. It was April, and unless you opened the windows, the room was a sauna. So, I would go back and forth between opening the window to air the room out, to closing it to warm up - it wasn't incredibly nice out that night and it would get cold rather quickly.
I remember slowly seeing friends change their away messages to ones that signified they had climbed into bed, or they had signed off all together. Eventually, I was the only one left online. It was after 2 am, and I had one paper to go. One paper standing between me and, well, a week of studying for finals and agonizing over these tests - but that night, all it sounded like and tasted like was freedom, and it was so close.
Stupidly I did no prep for this book review. So, at 2 am I began to read through this parenting book written by Super Nanny. That alone has to be a first. A, then, 20 year old male with no kids spending a Wednesday night, after 2 am, speed reading through Super Nanny's book and analyzing it from a psychological standpoint.
I actually remember getting upset and considering giving up. Two a.m. had come and gone, and it was after 3. I was still paging through this book and making notes about it. Around 4 am I began to write. One thing I will say about myself is that once I know what I am going to say, once it is all worked out in my head, I can write incredibly fast. In under an hour a four page paper had developed on the screen. I did not proofread it, I did not scan it for spelling or grammar. I hit save and packed up. I felt spent, but so relieved. It's that feeling that comes after a long and exhausting run or work out. That bitter sweet feeling of being done but having nothing left to give simultaneously. Anyone who has ever had a major assignment hanging over their heads, or anyone who has ever participated in a physically exhausting event knows this sensation - sinking into a blissful state of paralysis. That's exactly what I did. I barely put everything back on my desk before falling into bed. This was one of those nights where having a futon and not having to climb up to my bed was incredible.
Less than 3 hours later my alarm went off. It was time for class. It is not easy to get motivated for a day of classes after a poor night of sleep. Maybe it was the adrenaline my body was running on in order to not collapse, maybe it was knowing everything I had accomplished in the past 24 hours, but I remember feeling quite energized on my walk across Martyrs lawn.
I realize this memory includes no one and effects almost no one. It is however a very vivid college memory of mine. That room felt like the room of an asylum. I could not leave until I had reached my goal. I definitely went through manic and depressive states that night. I felt hopeless and I later felt invincible.
Hopefully, in reading my memory tonight you can relate with a project you may have had in your college experience, a night or a week where you had more than imaginable due and some how you found a way to pull through. All-nighters, last minute binges on an assignment, these nights are a test of just how much we are capable of, and we are left with a triumphant feeling when we walk out of the class it was for, having completed it.
Pat yourself on the back, at some point in the past four years you accomplished something like this, something incredible. Good for you!
Luckily I have less classes now. My first semester of my sophomore year was one of those semesters where every class was running the exact same schedule. As such, they all had a final assignment or final project, in addition to an actual in-class final. Most of the time, when you have one you don't end up having the other. No such luck, here. While I was well aware of the number of assignments that I was responsible for handling, all with due dates that fell in the same week, I did nothing to space them out. Here is a look at what my away message was Sunday night leading into that final week:
oh procrastination
last week of classes and so much stands between me and my freedom:
4 page history paper
8 page philosophy paper
4 page psychology analysis
10 page sociology literary review
(1) 5 minute presentation for statistics
3 Chapter reviews for statistics
5 finals
I tried going back through my files on my computer looking for some of these assignments but I had no luck finding anything. I remember the night before the last day of classes. On this particular day I had three classes, all with a major paper due. This particular day I had a review of a book due for psychology (which was not even included in that list above as something to do) as well as a the 10 page paper for sociology and the 4 page history paper.
I wrapped up the history paper, for the most part, pretty early on in the day. The plan was to be done writing the sociology paper by 9 or 10. My psychology paper, which was due at 8 am, was a pretty simple assingment. I had to review a book released by the woman known as 'Super Nanny' and look at it from a child-psych development perspective and write about it's accuracy. I actually picked this topic as a felt that someone who has the voice of television and now a book should probably be looked at from a psych/developmental standpoint as a way of criticizing her, mostly, untested methods.
Well, as with any paper written by any normal college student, I was unable to stay on task. Midnight came. Midnight went. I think I finally wrapped up my sociology paper around 1:30 am. At this point my roommates had retired and with our room being an 8 by 10 hole in the wall, I moved to the lounge next door. This lounge was never used, so essentially I had an extra room. The downside was that earlier in the semester someone had come into the room and thrown up on the couch. Regardless of the effort of the cleaning staff, the room smelled from then on and even more so when the room got hot. It was April, and unless you opened the windows, the room was a sauna. So, I would go back and forth between opening the window to air the room out, to closing it to warm up - it wasn't incredibly nice out that night and it would get cold rather quickly.
I remember slowly seeing friends change their away messages to ones that signified they had climbed into bed, or they had signed off all together. Eventually, I was the only one left online. It was after 2 am, and I had one paper to go. One paper standing between me and, well, a week of studying for finals and agonizing over these tests - but that night, all it sounded like and tasted like was freedom, and it was so close.
Stupidly I did no prep for this book review. So, at 2 am I began to read through this parenting book written by Super Nanny. That alone has to be a first. A, then, 20 year old male with no kids spending a Wednesday night, after 2 am, speed reading through Super Nanny's book and analyzing it from a psychological standpoint.
I actually remember getting upset and considering giving up. Two a.m. had come and gone, and it was after 3. I was still paging through this book and making notes about it. Around 4 am I began to write. One thing I will say about myself is that once I know what I am going to say, once it is all worked out in my head, I can write incredibly fast. In under an hour a four page paper had developed on the screen. I did not proofread it, I did not scan it for spelling or grammar. I hit save and packed up. I felt spent, but so relieved. It's that feeling that comes after a long and exhausting run or work out. That bitter sweet feeling of being done but having nothing left to give simultaneously. Anyone who has ever had a major assignment hanging over their heads, or anyone who has ever participated in a physically exhausting event knows this sensation - sinking into a blissful state of paralysis. That's exactly what I did. I barely put everything back on my desk before falling into bed. This was one of those nights where having a futon and not having to climb up to my bed was incredible.
Less than 3 hours later my alarm went off. It was time for class. It is not easy to get motivated for a day of classes after a poor night of sleep. Maybe it was the adrenaline my body was running on in order to not collapse, maybe it was knowing everything I had accomplished in the past 24 hours, but I remember feeling quite energized on my walk across Martyrs lawn.
I realize this memory includes no one and effects almost no one. It is however a very vivid college memory of mine. That room felt like the room of an asylum. I could not leave until I had reached my goal. I definitely went through manic and depressive states that night. I felt hopeless and I later felt invincible.
Hopefully, in reading my memory tonight you can relate with a project you may have had in your college experience, a night or a week where you had more than imaginable due and some how you found a way to pull through. All-nighters, last minute binges on an assignment, these nights are a test of just how much we are capable of, and we are left with a triumphant feeling when we walk out of the class it was for, having completed it.
Pat yourself on the back, at some point in the past four years you accomplished something like this, something incredible. Good for you!
Monday, April 19, 2010
Everyone Stop!
That's exactly what they should not have done.
October of 2009. Ramskellar. It was our second time playing in public - the St. Jude's 'Up All Night' Fundraiser. It was also the second time we would be playing with a substitute bassist. We found after trying to practice without Alex that he is really what holds it all together. I figured either the vocals or the drums would be what everyone follows as they are the most audible and easiest to use to pinpoint the tempo or place in a song. Little did I know that the members of the band actually relied on the bass, the least audible, some might even argue least necessary (sorry Nate and Alex) instrument.
There we were, though, our second performance and again going at it with out Alex. This would be our first real set. The first performance was only 3 songs and in conjunction with several other bands and some acapella groups. This show, however, was just us for about an hour playing to whoever would listen.
We had a pretty decent set and I was really excited by how together it all sounded. It's one thing to get through a song in practice, but it is a whole entirely different monster to sound tight when you are not all looking at each other, when there are people watching, and when you can do it over because you missed something.
I wish I had the set list because I don't exactly recall the order of the songs and how late into our performance it came, but at one point we played the song Repitlia by The Strokes. This is a pretty rockin' track and we did a really great job covering it. If you know the song, there comes a point in the song where everyone stops playing except the lead guitar who plays a riff before things come back in heading into the chorus.
This, however, was not the point that everyone decided to stop playing. Instead, as I am singing along, as the verse is heading into the prechorus section where everything steps it up a notch something happens. And by something I actually mean nothing. Nothing is happening anymore, except I am still singing, only no one else is playing. The words 'Please don't slow me down..." come out over no music, no drums, nothing. Internally I am pressing the panic button and hoping the floor beneath me opens and I can escape this situation. Either the power just cut out or something went wrong, but somehow, in unison, everyone in the band has cut out.
And then just as quickly as they had cut out, they were right back into it. And it happens. The poeple watching are wearing a surprised look on their faces. But this look isn't one of distaste or humor at our mistake. It's one of satisfaction. Apparently the way things transpired was so clean it came off as though we had rehearsed it this way. There are those points in songs where bands will totally drop out and let the audience sing, or let the lead singer belt out the line, usually the start of the chorus or some other climax moment of a song, enhancing the energy when it all comes back in. That is how it sounded and through confirmation after the show, that's what people had thought we had done. That it was intentional. And that it was really cool, really impressive.
It was a horrifying moment, and one that I will never forget. I won't ever forget the terror that ran through me, the place I was standing, and the reaction after it passed. It was also one of the coolest moments in our performance history. One we never replicated, not even in practice. No one could ever remember exactly where to cut out and it just ended up sounding forced. But when it happened that night in the Ramskellar, totally by accident, and totally in unison, it was perfect.
October of 2009. Ramskellar. It was our second time playing in public - the St. Jude's 'Up All Night' Fundraiser. It was also the second time we would be playing with a substitute bassist. We found after trying to practice without Alex that he is really what holds it all together. I figured either the vocals or the drums would be what everyone follows as they are the most audible and easiest to use to pinpoint the tempo or place in a song. Little did I know that the members of the band actually relied on the bass, the least audible, some might even argue least necessary (sorry Nate and Alex) instrument.
There we were, though, our second performance and again going at it with out Alex. This would be our first real set. The first performance was only 3 songs and in conjunction with several other bands and some acapella groups. This show, however, was just us for about an hour playing to whoever would listen.
We had a pretty decent set and I was really excited by how together it all sounded. It's one thing to get through a song in practice, but it is a whole entirely different monster to sound tight when you are not all looking at each other, when there are people watching, and when you can do it over because you missed something.
I wish I had the set list because I don't exactly recall the order of the songs and how late into our performance it came, but at one point we played the song Repitlia by The Strokes. This is a pretty rockin' track and we did a really great job covering it. If you know the song, there comes a point in the song where everyone stops playing except the lead guitar who plays a riff before things come back in heading into the chorus.
This, however, was not the point that everyone decided to stop playing. Instead, as I am singing along, as the verse is heading into the prechorus section where everything steps it up a notch something happens. And by something I actually mean nothing. Nothing is happening anymore, except I am still singing, only no one else is playing. The words 'Please don't slow me down..." come out over no music, no drums, nothing. Internally I am pressing the panic button and hoping the floor beneath me opens and I can escape this situation. Either the power just cut out or something went wrong, but somehow, in unison, everyone in the band has cut out.
And then just as quickly as they had cut out, they were right back into it. And it happens. The poeple watching are wearing a surprised look on their faces. But this look isn't one of distaste or humor at our mistake. It's one of satisfaction. Apparently the way things transpired was so clean it came off as though we had rehearsed it this way. There are those points in songs where bands will totally drop out and let the audience sing, or let the lead singer belt out the line, usually the start of the chorus or some other climax moment of a song, enhancing the energy when it all comes back in. That is how it sounded and through confirmation after the show, that's what people had thought we had done. That it was intentional. And that it was really cool, really impressive.
It was a horrifying moment, and one that I will never forget. I won't ever forget the terror that ran through me, the place I was standing, and the reaction after it passed. It was also one of the coolest moments in our performance history. One we never replicated, not even in practice. No one could ever remember exactly where to cut out and it just ended up sounding forced. But when it happened that night in the Ramskellar, totally by accident, and totally in unison, it was perfect.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Small Moments & The Log Flume
Not everything in life is big moments. I just was trying to explain the reasons why I love something to a friend and the response I got was, 'but nothing really happens.'
I feel like often times, we tend to look for the big moments, either when in the present, always trying to make it count, to make it a memorable day or night, or looking back, highlighting the most outwardly spectacular nights as the times we are fond of. It's easy to think of the biggest moments of college, that legendary party, or all-nighters, the trips, etc. But sometimes, there are some great moments that happen effortlessly. They were not planned and even while they are happening they might not seem like much.
I honestly can't remember if this was Freshman year or Sophomore year, but I have a feeling it is the latter. One night, when it was comfortable enough outside, myself, Claire, and Meghan decided to go hang out outside. It was not a weekend night, or a Tuesday. It was not early either. We walked over to the Deli and got coffee. Actually Meg got a Chai Tea and I made sure to share my distaste for all things tea. (Yes I am sure you are surprised to find out that I was outwardly opinionated about something at one point in my life, but it happened).
Nothing significant happened that night. We didn't get together to talk over something earth shattering, or to sort through some unwanted drama. We got together, despite the time, or the day of the week, and just hung out, outside. I remember it being totally empty as if there wasn't a soul left on campus. We sat on the grass of Martyrs lawn, drinking our coffee (or tea) and just talking about nothing in particular. We stayed out there for a while, even after we had all acknowledged that it was getting cold. There are plenty of down-time conversations that have occurred over the years, but I think I remember this one because it wasn't typical in its setting. Something about it, even then felt different, about going outside despite it being midnight and it getting colder, and just going to sit on the grass for awhile. I think we all have moments that we remember even though nothing in them stands out.
None of us needed to be anywhere at that point. Like so much of college, we had time to kill. Maybe it'd be considered killing it or wasting it, what we did, but we opted, in my mind, not to kill it. Instead of spending it alone, on a computer, in front of a tv, in our separate rooms, we spent it together, outside.
I think that's one thing that anyone who has finished college will point out as something that does not exist anymore: time to kill. I think never in our lives, before or after college do we all have as much time on our hands as we do now. From here on out, we go our own ways, we get our careers, further schooling, job markets, and then families, and so on. I am pretty sure this point in our lives is like the lull of the log flume. Everything before college is like that hill on the way up. Then you hit college and there's less urgency than there had been before. You reach that U shaped leveled out section where you just kinda float idly and bump into the wall a few times, waiting and preparing. Right now were are nearing the drop and everything is about to speed up, there's going to be a lot of screaming.
And as we do so it becomes more apparent that I am really going to miss all of this time and all of these moments where things seemed to slow down and nothing but the present mattered.
I feel like often times, we tend to look for the big moments, either when in the present, always trying to make it count, to make it a memorable day or night, or looking back, highlighting the most outwardly spectacular nights as the times we are fond of. It's easy to think of the biggest moments of college, that legendary party, or all-nighters, the trips, etc. But sometimes, there are some great moments that happen effortlessly. They were not planned and even while they are happening they might not seem like much.
I honestly can't remember if this was Freshman year or Sophomore year, but I have a feeling it is the latter. One night, when it was comfortable enough outside, myself, Claire, and Meghan decided to go hang out outside. It was not a weekend night, or a Tuesday. It was not early either. We walked over to the Deli and got coffee. Actually Meg got a Chai Tea and I made sure to share my distaste for all things tea. (Yes I am sure you are surprised to find out that I was outwardly opinionated about something at one point in my life, but it happened).
Nothing significant happened that night. We didn't get together to talk over something earth shattering, or to sort through some unwanted drama. We got together, despite the time, or the day of the week, and just hung out, outside. I remember it being totally empty as if there wasn't a soul left on campus. We sat on the grass of Martyrs lawn, drinking our coffee (or tea) and just talking about nothing in particular. We stayed out there for a while, even after we had all acknowledged that it was getting cold. There are plenty of down-time conversations that have occurred over the years, but I think I remember this one because it wasn't typical in its setting. Something about it, even then felt different, about going outside despite it being midnight and it getting colder, and just going to sit on the grass for awhile. I think we all have moments that we remember even though nothing in them stands out.
None of us needed to be anywhere at that point. Like so much of college, we had time to kill. Maybe it'd be considered killing it or wasting it, what we did, but we opted, in my mind, not to kill it. Instead of spending it alone, on a computer, in front of a tv, in our separate rooms, we spent it together, outside.
I think that's one thing that anyone who has finished college will point out as something that does not exist anymore: time to kill. I think never in our lives, before or after college do we all have as much time on our hands as we do now. From here on out, we go our own ways, we get our careers, further schooling, job markets, and then families, and so on. I am pretty sure this point in our lives is like the lull of the log flume. Everything before college is like that hill on the way up. Then you hit college and there's less urgency than there had been before. You reach that U shaped leveled out section where you just kinda float idly and bump into the wall a few times, waiting and preparing. Right now were are nearing the drop and everything is about to speed up, there's going to be a lot of screaming.
And as we do so it becomes more apparent that I am really going to miss all of this time and all of these moments where things seemed to slow down and nothing but the present mattered.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Campus Celebrities
For anyone, either at Fordham, another college, or just people who find themselves in the same areas enough to pass the same people, it's fun to make secret celebrities out of people. There are people who stand out sometimes because they are very outward with how they dress or look or act. Then there are those people who are not as incredibly obvious, but something about them, whether it be something they do or wear that makes you take notice of them.
There have been several people like this on our campus over the years. Most recently, there was the obsession with Rick Astley. This guy could absolutely be a stand in for the man behind the Rick-Roll. The way he walks, dresses, wears his hair, everything. For awhile, before we realized he acknowledged the comparison people would make note of his comings and goings around campus - telling each other when we might see him at some point in the day or pointing him out to others.
These celebrity students do not have to resemble an actual celebrity although there are a few others. In a few of my classes in sophomore year there was a guy in the room who was referred to as Kanye. We knew of him Freshman year, from a distance. He rocked Kanye style clothes, and shades, inside too. But one year later, I had a class with him. And we found out, when he spoke, he was far from Kanye. Kanye speaks with a cool, almost cocky sense of confidence. Our Kanye, not so much. Still, from a far - he was Kanye.
Another celebrity look-a-like campus celebrity would be Michelle Branch. First spotted in the caf, I think, she once again looked exactly like the singer/songwriter. And once again, would get pointed out from a far whenever she was around. I have not seen her in awhile and wonder what happened to her. We still always wondered if she liked the actual Michelle Branch, or if she played the guitar.
The reason I decided to make this post was because of the last celebrity. This next person was actually the first celebrity among our friends. She was remembered and recognizable, not because she looked like anyone or acted like anyone famous. Instead, our first Fordham Celebrity was simply known as: Knitting Girl.
Day 2 of Freshman Orientation, we were invited to the Fordham Prep theater for some sort of presentation. As most of these things go, no one wants to be there, no one is sure if they even have to be there, but they are there, and quickly trying to find ways to not fall asleep (maybe, some might just give in). What do you do when you are bored with the presenter? You look around at all of the strangers nearby, you people watch.
I don't remember who it was who first saw her, but dead center of the auditorium on the second level there was a girl who was not only not paying attention, and keeping herself busy with something else, but that something else happened to be knitting. This girl had brought her needles and string with her and was going at it in sight of plenty of people and without a care. It was strange, and it was bold, and that was all it took for her to become a celebrity amongst us. For the next year or more, anyone who passed her would let the rest of us know later on. We were so fascinated by this girl. It's pretty funny how little she had to do to get all of our attention for the next year of college. I only saw her knitting a few other times after that, despite spotting her constantly on campus. I never learned her name or anything else about her and so she will always be remembered as Knitting Girl.
There have been several people like this on our campus over the years. Most recently, there was the obsession with Rick Astley. This guy could absolutely be a stand in for the man behind the Rick-Roll. The way he walks, dresses, wears his hair, everything. For awhile, before we realized he acknowledged the comparison people would make note of his comings and goings around campus - telling each other when we might see him at some point in the day or pointing him out to others.
These celebrity students do not have to resemble an actual celebrity although there are a few others. In a few of my classes in sophomore year there was a guy in the room who was referred to as Kanye. We knew of him Freshman year, from a distance. He rocked Kanye style clothes, and shades, inside too. But one year later, I had a class with him. And we found out, when he spoke, he was far from Kanye. Kanye speaks with a cool, almost cocky sense of confidence. Our Kanye, not so much. Still, from a far - he was Kanye.
Another celebrity look-a-like campus celebrity would be Michelle Branch. First spotted in the caf, I think, she once again looked exactly like the singer/songwriter. And once again, would get pointed out from a far whenever she was around. I have not seen her in awhile and wonder what happened to her. We still always wondered if she liked the actual Michelle Branch, or if she played the guitar.
The reason I decided to make this post was because of the last celebrity. This next person was actually the first celebrity among our friends. She was remembered and recognizable, not because she looked like anyone or acted like anyone famous. Instead, our first Fordham Celebrity was simply known as: Knitting Girl.
Day 2 of Freshman Orientation, we were invited to the Fordham Prep theater for some sort of presentation. As most of these things go, no one wants to be there, no one is sure if they even have to be there, but they are there, and quickly trying to find ways to not fall asleep (maybe, some might just give in). What do you do when you are bored with the presenter? You look around at all of the strangers nearby, you people watch.
I don't remember who it was who first saw her, but dead center of the auditorium on the second level there was a girl who was not only not paying attention, and keeping herself busy with something else, but that something else happened to be knitting. This girl had brought her needles and string with her and was going at it in sight of plenty of people and without a care. It was strange, and it was bold, and that was all it took for her to become a celebrity amongst us. For the next year or more, anyone who passed her would let the rest of us know later on. We were so fascinated by this girl. It's pretty funny how little she had to do to get all of our attention for the next year of college. I only saw her knitting a few other times after that, despite spotting her constantly on campus. I never learned her name or anything else about her and so she will always be remembered as Knitting Girl.
Freshman Year Music
I actually have two posts two write about when it comes to making music with a good friend of mine, Tom Murphy. I felt like after tonight, with his band, far more talented and successful than anything we ever created together, winning the campus battle-of-the-bands for the spot of opening for MGMT on spring weekend, I should write about something related.
Coming into college, there were 21 of us from my high school class entering Fordham as freshman. I don't know for a fact if that is the most from one school, but I would have to imagine it must be close. Funny thing about that is that it was not a school around here. We aren't from the West Coast but we are also much further than some other schools with close ties to Fordham, especially Fordham's own Prep school which shares the same campus.
I was rooming with a very close friend of mine from said high school and had a couple other close friends of mine who were part of that 21. But there are some kids in this group that I had known, spent time with, and become friendly with in high school but never got really close. Tom Murphy and Warren Rati and not people who I would have expected to get closer with in coming here.
Two weeks into the school year, and they were the people I was seeing the most. Warren lived down the hall from me and Tom in a different dorm building, but they basically were my 3rd and 4th roommates. I think I can actually remember a few times where I came home from class and they, at least Tom, were already in. They learned, early on, that with a student ID card you could easily get my dorm room door open.
We made a lot of music that year. It was never developed or planned or anything like that. We had a keyboard in the room, and sometimes two, and a few acoustic guitars, and we would all just jam for awhile. Someone would decide on a chord progression or maybe just a key and that would be enough guidance for 20-30 minutes at a time. It didn't matter who was talented or not, we just played off of what the other person was doing. There was a time where we developed a serious obsession with 'Lux Aeterna' which is the famous piece of music composed by Clint Mansell for the film Requiem For A Dream.
Whether it was on two separate keyboards or double teaming one keyboard, Tom and I would play the full quartet's worth of string pieces. This was intense stuff, too. If you've never heard the piece, or if it's been awhile - do yourself a favor and check out it out on youtube. It is fantastic.
This rendition of ours was so intense that everyone would just sit in silence, we would turn the lights off, and then we'd just go at it, and when it reached the climax it was like a rock song, but it was just two dudes playing synth strings on a cheap keyboard. All you had to do was close your eyes and you could get there, letting it engulph you.
Tom and I took a few stabs and creating our own music as well. One night in our first semester, we carried over my computer, some speakers, a bunch of cables, my electric guitar, and some other things and set up in a music room in one of the buildings on campus. We played a lot of different things and were probably down in that 8 by 10 room for several hours playing nothing in particular. We did manage to get something recorded that night. It is nothing exceptional and most of it was done in one take, but it's just a reminder of that whole dynamic. I don't think there was ever more than one day off between our spontaneous music sessions. I loved every second of them. There was never any pressure to create something or to impress anyone. Instead it was just a natural occurrence, with anywhere from 2 to 5 people contributing to music that had never been created exactly how this was and would never create it that way again. There is something incredible about situations like that, as quickly as the moment occurs, and the music is made, it is gone, and never reproduced.
I really do miss those sessions.
Coming into college, there were 21 of us from my high school class entering Fordham as freshman. I don't know for a fact if that is the most from one school, but I would have to imagine it must be close. Funny thing about that is that it was not a school around here. We aren't from the West Coast but we are also much further than some other schools with close ties to Fordham, especially Fordham's own Prep school which shares the same campus.
I was rooming with a very close friend of mine from said high school and had a couple other close friends of mine who were part of that 21. But there are some kids in this group that I had known, spent time with, and become friendly with in high school but never got really close. Tom Murphy and Warren Rati and not people who I would have expected to get closer with in coming here.
Two weeks into the school year, and they were the people I was seeing the most. Warren lived down the hall from me and Tom in a different dorm building, but they basically were my 3rd and 4th roommates. I think I can actually remember a few times where I came home from class and they, at least Tom, were already in. They learned, early on, that with a student ID card you could easily get my dorm room door open.
We made a lot of music that year. It was never developed or planned or anything like that. We had a keyboard in the room, and sometimes two, and a few acoustic guitars, and we would all just jam for awhile. Someone would decide on a chord progression or maybe just a key and that would be enough guidance for 20-30 minutes at a time. It didn't matter who was talented or not, we just played off of what the other person was doing. There was a time where we developed a serious obsession with 'Lux Aeterna' which is the famous piece of music composed by Clint Mansell for the film Requiem For A Dream.
Whether it was on two separate keyboards or double teaming one keyboard, Tom and I would play the full quartet's worth of string pieces. This was intense stuff, too. If you've never heard the piece, or if it's been awhile - do yourself a favor and check out it out on youtube. It is fantastic.
This rendition of ours was so intense that everyone would just sit in silence, we would turn the lights off, and then we'd just go at it, and when it reached the climax it was like a rock song, but it was just two dudes playing synth strings on a cheap keyboard. All you had to do was close your eyes and you could get there, letting it engulph you.
Tom and I took a few stabs and creating our own music as well. One night in our first semester, we carried over my computer, some speakers, a bunch of cables, my electric guitar, and some other things and set up in a music room in one of the buildings on campus. We played a lot of different things and were probably down in that 8 by 10 room for several hours playing nothing in particular. We did manage to get something recorded that night. It is nothing exceptional and most of it was done in one take, but it's just a reminder of that whole dynamic. I don't think there was ever more than one day off between our spontaneous music sessions. I loved every second of them. There was never any pressure to create something or to impress anyone. Instead it was just a natural occurrence, with anywhere from 2 to 5 people contributing to music that had never been created exactly how this was and would never create it that way again. There is something incredible about situations like that, as quickly as the moment occurs, and the music is made, it is gone, and never reproduced.
I really do miss those sessions.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Manhattan
When I first came to Fordham, it was the Spring of my senior year of high school. I would come to the campus one more time before move in day. These were my first two encounters with New York, and neither of them brought me anywhere close to midtown.
I do not remember the exact day that I moved in. I remember that it was the end of August. Less than a week had passed before the gates of the campus could no longer hold us in. I had met a few people and it was time to go to the city. It may have been the first weekend following classes, about 10 of us walked that long, long walk from Alumni Court North (or South - for a few!) all the way up to the Grand Concourse D Station. This was also my first encounter with the very intimidating New York Subway System. It felt almost like I had gone to this massive for-grown-ups playground, a playground nonetheless, and been left there to discover everything on my own. There was no guide, there was no experienced member in the group, and certainly no parent or guardian. The ten or twelve of us, probably looking like prime targets, or at best, stupid tourists, shuffled onto a car in the subway, and we were off. The mission was discovery, and the journey was as colorful as any trip on the Subway can be.
The D stop in Manhattan is about a block from Times Square. The second you reach the street level you can see the light. It's like there is still an area of the city where the sun's light has been trapped, keeping it perpetually day time. In a way, that is almost how Times Square is. There are more people there walking around into the morning than there are in many other places during the day. Luckily, because 42nd and seventh is so bright it might as well just have a spot light beam shooting up from it a la Vegas. This helped guide us to the promised land, or at least that is how it feels the first time you see it.
I remember walking into Times Square, past the ESPN Zone, turning the corner and being pummled with flashing lights, monster-billboards and t.v. screens. It was like a cliched movie moment, totally touristy, and I did not care. I just looked up, walking slowly, and just soaked it all in. I had been in college about a week. I still talked to my parents probably every day, and so I was not totally convinced I had moved on, yet. But when I got to Times Square, it sunk it. I was in New York City. Arguably the most incredible city in the world, the center of the universe. Not only was I here, but I was no tourist (though I did not hide it well). I was here to stay for the next four years of my life, and this, all of this, was to be my backyard.
I don't think we made it anywhere other than up and back down the strip of Times Square and then back to the D. All the while we would stop and take pictures, documenting, proving that we were here and this was ours. That night I discovered that in NY people don't just ask for money on the subway, but they perform for it. I learned that stores can have Ferris Wheels in them and that be normal. And I learned that I was in college in the best possible place to spend my first four years on my own. It did not matter that we saw 1% of the city, or that we saw the most tourist attracted, busiest, and least interesting (when you get past the glow) area. I know every one of us in that group got back on the subway and felt aboslutely ecstatic at the realization that we were here and no where else.
I know a bunch of people visit New York at some point in their lives, and I know some within that group had already seen what I was seeing. I know they still felt what I felt because before they were visiting, and now they weren't. This was home. This is home. At least for a few more weeks.
I do not remember the exact day that I moved in. I remember that it was the end of August. Less than a week had passed before the gates of the campus could no longer hold us in. I had met a few people and it was time to go to the city. It may have been the first weekend following classes, about 10 of us walked that long, long walk from Alumni Court North (or South - for a few!) all the way up to the Grand Concourse D Station. This was also my first encounter with the very intimidating New York Subway System. It felt almost like I had gone to this massive for-grown-ups playground, a playground nonetheless, and been left there to discover everything on my own. There was no guide, there was no experienced member in the group, and certainly no parent or guardian. The ten or twelve of us, probably looking like prime targets, or at best, stupid tourists, shuffled onto a car in the subway, and we were off. The mission was discovery, and the journey was as colorful as any trip on the Subway can be.
The D stop in Manhattan is about a block from Times Square. The second you reach the street level you can see the light. It's like there is still an area of the city where the sun's light has been trapped, keeping it perpetually day time. In a way, that is almost how Times Square is. There are more people there walking around into the morning than there are in many other places during the day. Luckily, because 42nd and seventh is so bright it might as well just have a spot light beam shooting up from it a la Vegas. This helped guide us to the promised land, or at least that is how it feels the first time you see it.
I remember walking into Times Square, past the ESPN Zone, turning the corner and being pummled with flashing lights, monster-billboards and t.v. screens. It was like a cliched movie moment, totally touristy, and I did not care. I just looked up, walking slowly, and just soaked it all in. I had been in college about a week. I still talked to my parents probably every day, and so I was not totally convinced I had moved on, yet. But when I got to Times Square, it sunk it. I was in New York City. Arguably the most incredible city in the world, the center of the universe. Not only was I here, but I was no tourist (though I did not hide it well). I was here to stay for the next four years of my life, and this, all of this, was to be my backyard.
I don't think we made it anywhere other than up and back down the strip of Times Square and then back to the D. All the while we would stop and take pictures, documenting, proving that we were here and this was ours. That night I discovered that in NY people don't just ask for money on the subway, but they perform for it. I learned that stores can have Ferris Wheels in them and that be normal. And I learned that I was in college in the best possible place to spend my first four years on my own. It did not matter that we saw 1% of the city, or that we saw the most tourist attracted, busiest, and least interesting (when you get past the glow) area. I know every one of us in that group got back on the subway and felt aboslutely ecstatic at the realization that we were here and no where else.
I know a bunch of people visit New York at some point in their lives, and I know some within that group had already seen what I was seeing. I know they still felt what I felt because before they were visiting, and now they weren't. This was home. This is home. At least for a few more weeks.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Very Soon!
I will be posting my college moments very soon. I need to get through this one major assignment first. Hopefully I will have something for you tomorrow night.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Welcome!
Hello!
For the next two months this space will serve the purpose of allowing me to put down, for myself and others, some moments over the past four years of my life that stand out. About a week about, a friend of mine had mentioned making a 'Greatest Hits' list of college. This being inspired by Charlie's Greatest Hits list from the television show Lost. Prior to this, I had been thinking about college, about my time here, and how fast you can lose four years of your life. That is not to say that my college years are 'lost' or at all to be looked at as 'wasted'. Instead I use the word lose in the sense that, despite all of these memories, I still sit here, 6 weeks from graduation, and wonder how it is that I am graduating college, that it is 2010, that I am into my 20s, and am searching for a job, and not just one for the summer.
I can't begin to try to briefly sum up my college experience, nor can I try to rank the events in my life that have transpired while at Fordham. That is where I got the idea of creating a series of entries that would reflect on individual moments that stand out to me. As such, they will be in no particular order. I have thought about this for a little while now and have a strong preliminary list. It is not a complete list, however, as I hope that the next 6 weeks will spawn several more.
Starting tomorrow, I will be posting about an entry a day, chronicling what this all has been like. I still intend to keep my other blog site running, posting my BREADCRUMBS and blogging about life in general. I just felt it was more appropriate to separate these entries from my regular blog.
I hope you enjoy!
For the next two months this space will serve the purpose of allowing me to put down, for myself and others, some moments over the past four years of my life that stand out. About a week about, a friend of mine had mentioned making a 'Greatest Hits' list of college. This being inspired by Charlie's Greatest Hits list from the television show Lost. Prior to this, I had been thinking about college, about my time here, and how fast you can lose four years of your life. That is not to say that my college years are 'lost' or at all to be looked at as 'wasted'. Instead I use the word lose in the sense that, despite all of these memories, I still sit here, 6 weeks from graduation, and wonder how it is that I am graduating college, that it is 2010, that I am into my 20s, and am searching for a job, and not just one for the summer.
I can't begin to try to briefly sum up my college experience, nor can I try to rank the events in my life that have transpired while at Fordham. That is where I got the idea of creating a series of entries that would reflect on individual moments that stand out to me. As such, they will be in no particular order. I have thought about this for a little while now and have a strong preliminary list. It is not a complete list, however, as I hope that the next 6 weeks will spawn several more.
Starting tomorrow, I will be posting about an entry a day, chronicling what this all has been like. I still intend to keep my other blog site running, posting my BREADCRUMBS and blogging about life in general. I just felt it was more appropriate to separate these entries from my regular blog.
I hope you enjoy!
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