Latest Articles by Sarah Canice Funke
These are a week late, but still fun. Last Saturday, besides being Anna's 25th birthday, was also the Dorchester Beach Festival. We sailed around the little bay. Or rather, we *were* sailed around the bay, courtesy of UMass students. Not as exciting as sailing under the Coronado Bridge with your hand actually on the helm, calling out to the other passengers to watch the boom as you start to "come about" or ordering everyone to one side of the boat to offset some of the keeling, but it satisfied my itch to get out onto some form of water body.
This has been a week of free stuff. We went to the zoo on Tuesday. Along with 20,000 other people. It was, needless to say, a zoo.
But we got to see the white tiger and the baby gorilla. We couldn't find any of the free hot dogs, but it was just as well. When we finally discovered a stand, we found there was a 30 minute wait for a single dog. So Heidi and Laura tried desperately to extract some substance from the vending machine. Which sadly was empty, already pilfered by thousands of hungry zoorists (zoo tourists). We had to wait till we made it through the rain forest house to find another vending machine which provided snickers bars.
Tonight we are going to the Institute of Contemporary Art, which is free on Thursdays from 5-9pm.
So a friend of a friend gave me two tickets to Tilly and the Wall last night. And so, not ones to pass up free tickets of any sort, even if the only Tilly song I had seriously listened to was Rainbows in the Dark, Evan and I went to check them out. After all, a band that was named after a children's book has got to be good, right?
Well, we were thankful the tickets were free.
It wasn't that the quintet from Omaha itself was a bad deal. In fact, they were quite good, especially since one of their musical "instruments" was a tap dancer, Jamie Pressnall, who clicked out the drum beats with her heels on a mini stage.
It wasn't that there was a horrible opener. Well, one involved bad mixing/sampling with a vocalist sporting muffin top, knee brace and a chain mail headpiece. The other opener, however, was extremely good, resembling what might happen if Panda Bear and Geologist ever struck out together.
No, what killed the evening was the sound technician, who apparently was either 1) a sadist or 2) utterly deaf. The guy didn't know how to mix anything and apparently thought oppressive house music at glass-shattering decibels was a good idea for intermissions. Good thing I didn't go in there with an arrhythmia. We wondered how anyone could hate music so much. The second opener band pleaded with them for better mixing. And eventually they got the lower register frequencies fixed only to have the mikes jacked up for Tilly. It wasn't as bad for me, who was simply relieved the tortuous house music was finally over, but Evan was withering in pain over the upper range voices (Tilly has two female vocalists). We eventually cut out after about a half an hour of Tilly.
I almost stopped at the box office to ask who the sound tech was and plead with Paradise to fire him/her. The most fun Evan and I had was standing outside the 'Dise waiting for the Green Line and watching the bouncers change the letters on the marquee to tell the world that Wolf Parade was sold out for Saturday.
Some things may be free but I suppose you get what you pay for.
Well, despite the tire issues that cheated me out of a night at "Carterpolooza," at least the Boston area is full of musicians who did manage to attend Tanglewood and provide great detail on the happenings.
Well, here I am waiting for Evan's flight back from Chattanooga to come in. He was supposed to be back by midnight, but the weather has hampered incoming flights. The handy-dandy flight tracker says he is over New Jersey with about 27 minutes to go. In the meantime, I amuse myself with the newly discovered (for me) and highly addictive MouseHunt game (a FaceBook application). And try not to fall asleep.
Yesterday I went to Harvard Square and bought me a banana yellow collector's edition LP. You can guess what the album was. I also got Silver Jews. And M. Ward's Post War. It was a productive day.
I am officially registered to vote in Massachusetts now. Farewell, O Colorado rez. I experienced a pang of nostalgia this morning as I relinquished my old license. I am now a Democrat, as the only thing being Republican gets you in this state is the right to choose the losing candidate. In any case, the way the political scene is going these days, I'd prefer to be an Independent, but that only gets me rights slightly more significant than a doorpost's. Apparently when you have political views that entail being left alone, people go on and make decisions without you. Unless you live in Montana.
On the bright side, I have successfully infiltrated the democratic ranks and may now begin wreaking libertarian havoc from the inside. As Baldric would tell Blackadder, "I have a cunning plan."
So this was a weekend of unfulfilled plans. Our softball team took a beating from my co-worker's Vineyard team. It was 96 degrees so Evan and I tried to make it to the beach, only to experience a flat tire and no where to park the darn thing except on the side of a very busy freeway. Fortunately a policeman came and stood guard, literally slowing the traffic down about 20 mph by his sheer presence so that Evan could change the driver's rear wheel without too much risk of life and limb. We made it to Sears and got a new tire but didn't make it to the beach.
Then the following day I was all excited about Tanglewood and seeing 100-year-old Elliot Carter and we started the 2 and 1/2 hour trek to western MA. But the low tire pressure light went on again. We stopped to add air in the tires, but by that time, I was getting jittery. We would have to come back again late at night and I didn't want to risk getting stuck off the side of the road trying to change another flat at midnight. Especially since the lug nut wrench somehow went missing during our last flat tire episode. So we turned around and went back to Dorchester.*
Ah me. I suppose I can wait another year to see Tanglewood, but all in all, the weekend was a bit of a stressful sad disappointment. At least Evan and I got to spend some time relaxing on the back porch. We also watched clips of Betty la fea, the original Ugly Betty.
*The low pressure light is probably going on just because the tread patterns on my tires are slightly different now, due to the new tire. The alignment seems to be okay and the tires seem to be okay. But, like I said, nothing kills a journey so much as worrying about disaster...
I may be recycling several gallons of water back into the atmosphere during these Boston summer days, but at least there are free-$10 things to do to take me outside during these sauna conditions.
Things I am looking forward to:
1. July 13 Life of Phillip Glass film at the MFA.
2. July 24 John Adams, Gershwin, Dvorak.
3. August 3 Shakespeare on the Lawn: As You Like It.
4. August 15 Rebecca. (We watch Witness for the Prosecution last night, rocking gently on a barge as we stared at the big outdoor screen.)
Plus free Wednesday nights at the Museum of Fine Arts and the Boston Observatory. I want to go look at some art and stars.
Not cheap but doing anyway:
1. July 20 Tanglewood: Elliott Carter Centennial Celebration.
2. August 13 Radiohead.
So only four more work hours stand between me and a luxurious two week vacation. I'll be especially ready for the break as I've been working 11 hour days this week to fill in for a missing vacation day (I didn't have quite enough to last until the 4th of July weekend).
But at 1:00pm, my work day will be over and my vacation will begin as I scramble to the airport and begin the 1500 mile journey to the Rockies.
A gang of select few celebrated Evan's 24th birthday by attempting to find some 18 year old scotch at Jacob Wirth. It was tradition, as Evan had been there for his 23rd and I had been for my 26th birthdays. But unfortunately the kitchen was in the final throes of closing as we arrived, so we hunted down the excellent Thai restaurant in the vicinity and made do with Lotus wine instead (an amazing white with nearly no tannic bite).
We attempted to find some scotch at Dorchester's own Blarney Stone, but the world was inside the bar attempting to watch the Celtics win the championship. We didn't get our scotch and the Celtics didn't win. But nevermind, Evan and I managed to finish I'm Not There at my place.
I'm none the wiser regarding meaning of the film, but at least I know that Cate Blanchett did an amazing job.
Here we are after eating a dinner of bratwurst, cooked over a fire started with birchbark and many matches...
Photo credit: Heidi
Life in summer means open windows.
Summer parties join me as happy chatter drifts to third floor rooms
Between upbeat hip-hop and lawn mower whirrings.
So my AC adapter died, meaning my computer is currently shut off to conserve battery. Hopefully I can get this fixed soon.
Also, in the battle Sarah v. Heat, the latter seems to be winning. Boston is hot and humid in the summer and no one can afford air conditioning. I'm glad I get to leave for two weeks soon, but am not looking forward to August...
At long last, there is internet at home. And there was much rejoicing! Also, Evan fixed my blog comments. My dad will probably be sad that he won't be able to use his screen shot widget anymore to send me updates on the bizarre and unpredictable nature of the old comment features. :)
Also, Suite101 interviewed me for a writers' blog they are creating. If it gets published, I will provide a link. I like telling people how I "became" a writer. Probably should have added something about not quitting the day job, etc. Wait, I guess my day job IS writing.
Secret dream job: could I ever be the person who writes the descriptive labels on the backs of fine wine?
Now that Heidi and Laura are comfortably moved in and we are only tripping over the empty boxes as we wait for the weekly recycle cycle...
Thanks also to Evan for finding and dedicating the video to me on iLike. :)
we had a cat-warming party for laura and heidi's new feline companion. after traveling on an airplane to get to us, the cat seemed relatively calm and did not tear straight for the door and the lonely wide streets of boston. his name is levi, but he may not know that since his previous owner always called him "poopie." this means we can call him whatever we want.
in two weeks, I get my roommates, a cat-mate and the internet at home.
next weekend, I get to see my sister and a wedding. but not my sister's wedding.
this is an old photo from last year, but sadly it will have to suffice as there will be no in-person mother-day greetings this year:
The weather is amazing. I got some roller blades from a co-worker. I think I might give them a spin in sunshiny Dorchester. Maybe I'll even start blading to work, if I can get over feeling like a Dork freshly escaped from Canadian universities....(no one blades here, but I would have blended right in with active McMaster).
Spring weather means picnics in the parks before small group. I'm loving the spontaneity that warmer weather brings. And...this morning I packed away my sleeping bag...here's hoping for good.
Still sniffling, but thanks for the warm wishes all! :)
So Anna has come and gone, but the memories her trip are well-documented:
Making with madd art in Harvard Square
Peering Forth Great Thoughts in the Annenberg Cathedral, Harvard Yard
Annenberg Cathedral
Snuggly?
Jamaica Plain Traipsing (Anna, our Faithful Photographer of Candid Walking Shots)
Lookout, from Evan's Porch
Onward to Freedom!
How Capital!
Boston Commons, Park Street Church
Sad Irish.
Happy Irish.
Very Happy Irish.
Note: I can make fun of the Irish, because I am part Irish.
Boston Public Latin (oldest public school in...America?)
Oh, politics.
According to the tour guide giving the exposé on the life and times of Samuel Adams and how that related to the modern brewing industry, the picture on the Sam Adams beer bottle is actually that of Paul Revere, who was "one hunk of revolutionary man."
A strong Constitution
The Captain had quarters larger than some of my previous lodgings...
Shiver Me Timbers, United Tar!
Thanks for visiting, Anna!
M. Ward's Transfiguration No. 2 captures perfectly the vague melancholy I've felt since moving to a new place with no roommates (yet).
Yesterday Evan helped me go pick up this dresser from Waltham. I found it on craigslist, a sort of hit-and-miss internet-based Penny Pincher, but in this particular case, definitely a hit.
A friend also told me about Boomerang's in Jamaica Plain, so I am looking forward to checking it out. I've been wondering where a good thrift store in the area might be. Now if only I can find a good craft store, I will be all set.
I'm currently enjoying the free wireless at the Boston Public Library and hoping my connection holds out long enough to upload all my assignments for my fundraising course. Only one week left and an exam. Then I can rest easy.
If I don't appear on the internet as often, it's because my new apartment, though grand and spacious and starting to look more and more moved into, is still lacking internet, at least a connection I can really pick up. I think something is wrong with my Mac's wireless card (never very good to begin with). Sigh.
On the bright side, I now have all the documents I need for successful filing with the IRS. Here's hoping I can get that done this weekend, or perhaps Thursday or Friday morning.
If I were a disciplined person, I would be finishing my homework right now. But I've passed the busy weeks and I'm sliding into the final stretch with very little on my plate. The absence of panic means I type meaninglessly while I wait for House to lend legitimacy to my procrastination.
Life these days consists of hitting refresh on the "Boston area Radiohead tickets" webpage on Ticketmaster. And I discovered that Colin Meloy must love me, because he decided to come back to Boston after the whole Decemberists tour got canceled last fall. So I have tickets to that, too.
Other potential trips include New York and DC. And I'm moving. Did I mention that? Down the block a bit. I'll still be only a T's length from Cambridge and the bookstores and music I've come to associate with head-in-the-sand elitism--the stuff I'd grown to know and love in academia. Not really, but I find myself occasionally escaping to this familiar channel via a quick train trip across the Charles River to the "other side of the tracks."
The other day I discovered that MIT's bookstore has a sizable collection of music and cognition texts, all with authoritative titles such as "The Origins of Music" and "What We Mean By Music." I was tempted to buy the "The Idiots' Guide to Mashups" but the software was only compatible with PCs. Stupid techie bookstores. They need to get with the Mac program.
And now I leave you with a good note for the night. Animal Collective. In French.
So Heidi and Laura had a little birthday action last night. A bunch of us CTK'ers went to Charles PlayHouse for a little karaoke. Being the karaoke novice, I discovered that crowds generally like classic rock/metal, a genre I don't do too well. But I had fun with my ballad "In My Life." When I attempted "Crocodile Rock," I felt Elton John turn in his grave. Which was really an accomplishment considering he isn't dead yet. But enough of that. Here are the words to capture the evening:
...there are places I remember...
..love me, love me, say that you love me...
A friend took a video of Evan, claiming that "Hands down, Evan has the most potential to be in a viral YouTube video." And followed with comparisons to Shatner.
And the birthday girls themselves, writing the songs the whole world sings:
...I remember when rock was young...
Photo credit: one of the Kaufmanns.
I was pulling for the record, but alas...to have come so far and lost the SuperBowl. Reminds me of the time my mom was directing drama at Local Rural High School and one of the prospective actors told her "Well, I can make all the rehearsals, but unfortunately I'm gonna be out of town on the day of the performances." So close, but in the end, who remembers the hard work leading up to the show if the curtain goes down on disaster?
But on the bright side, the post-game news ticker mistakenly proclaimed "Massive Update" for about three frames before being corrected. I've never received a massive update before. I suppose the news *was* a little overwhelming.
And now, back to life and work. Although I fear the office will be a little depressed this morning.
In other news, I've been watching a little of Boston Legal. Reminds me of Orange County for high-powered professionals. My mom said Alan Shore reminds her of Lord Goring. Good call. And William Shatner, this might be your best role yet!
Also, for all those who were hoping for pictures of the Blue Hills Reservation, I regret to inform you that I didn't take my camera. But that just means we will have to go back! Evan and I got hopelessly lost when we went on Saturday, discovered an abandoned highway (I expected to find the head of the Statue of Liberty...), and eventually stumbled upon a major artery trail and followed our noses back to the trailhead before dark set in and we froze to death. All very dramatic and exciting after the fact.
Also on Saturday, the Kaufwomen and I checked out a new venue, the PA Lounge. This little-known place appeared to be frequented primarily by friends and family of the musicians. It's a good place to enjoy a quiet beer, but not such a good place to actually hear music, unless you are into plaster-n-concrete surround sound. The first two bands were complete mush, but the "feature artist" whom we had come to see managed to beat the sad acoustics. Perhaps because White Hinterland had more acoustical instruments to begin with. With a voice like Jolie Holland's, and a backing ensemble like the Decemberists (violin, guitar, drums and keyboard), White Hinterland made the long wait worth it. Her closing song was accompanied by ukelele and a little violin. Since her ukelele was not miked, you had to strain to hear it, but the trick worked. She captured our attention entirely and when the last strum faded from her uke, you could hear a pin drop.
And then we had to walk about a mile back to the T and ended up on the last train of the night, which meant frequent announcements and long stops at each station to ensure that everyone made it home that Saturday night. But sleep came in the end.
So last night I attended a fundraising workshop at the BMA. Since parking in inner cities is always a little hairy, I decided to park in the lot belonging to the Boston Elder Services, just across the street from the BMA office. What I did not realize is that the BES locks up their lot after 8pm. So after the workshop ran late, I sauntered out to the lot only to discover that there was no way to get my car out again. A bit perturbed, I tried to call Evan, but my phone died in the process. Starting to panic, I looked around for other options (being too naive to the bus system to realize I could have just hopped a 19 or 15 from the train station in front of my nose). Fortunately, an extremely nice woman was still around from the workshop, and so I was able to hop a lift back to Field's Corner.
Worried that the BES security might be a bit suspicious when they opened the lot in the morning and discovered a solitary Matrix, I got the low-down on bus systems from Evan and embarked early this morning for Roxbury. After reliving memories of McMaster and the public bus system, I arrived to find my car surrounded by other vehicles and very much un-towed.
I rejoiced and went my merry way home. The rest of the day I get to spend at home (I had a bunch of extra hours that I needed to use in January if I wanted to use them at all). So I will do all the homework for the fundraising course I am taking via City Vision, which means my normal homework day, Saturday, will be entirely free, followed by a Winter Hinterland concert in the evening.
Perhaps while I am speaking of entertainment, I should mention that I have kindled a new found passion for Candle Pinning, the New England version of bowling. The balls are smaller and the pins are smaller and you have three rolls instead of two, but other than that, the rules are pretty much the same. When TechMission had a candle-pin night last Tuesday, I tied for top score (for the first game, at least--and quite possibly for the night, although I don't have all the stats for the second game). :)
My dad gave me a bag of every-tool-I'd-ever-need (including a stud finder), which I put to good use assembling this:
Thanks, Papa!
Weekends are always a good time to catch up on catching the world up on Life in General.
Saturday night, in lieu of going out, we took the cheaper route of cooking in. I brought the chicken to Evan's house and he provided the potatoes, onions, rice and amazing coconut curry sauce, purchased from our recent excursion to Super 88 (the Asian superstore). When Evan brought out the candles and turned on the music, we suddenly had our own private Shanti. :)
A run to Target resulted in a new some-assembly-required bookshelf for the entrance to my room. Fitting the screws and bolts and cam-bolts all together was rather soothing. And now I have spaces for all my books with room to grow. Plus a rug that was sitting in my closet because there was no place for it in my room now looks cozy next to the bookshelf. A flowerpot on the shelf and Beatles photos on the wall complete the domestic touch. I went to bed smiling. A little cleaning this afternoon before church and my home will be that much homier.
My room looks absolutely amazing right now, with new Beatles album cover shots ripped from an old 2007 calendar, my record player sitting so pretty on my wardrobe, some Christmas lights wrapped round my alarm clock and glowing in the dark. And now that I'm currently wearing the grooves out on Crocodile Rock, I just want to stay in this room forever and ever.
I apologize for the grainy quality on the video, but really, how could I post a blog entry on my room without letting you in on a few of the sounds? Turn this up and pretend you're dancing with me. Party on.
I love this Edison Record cylinder case (predating the flat gramophone disc) that I converted into a pencil holder. The tag on the lid says that this one contained the cylinder for "Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah."
A very home-made bookcase, with my one and only ever Athlete Scholar Award.
Straight from the Weather Channel:
"More snow [in Boston] this month than all of last year."
Here's praying that I can fly out on Friday.
...the sun is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout.
But there's no joy in my heart, mighty Rockies have struck out.
Just thought my readers would like to learn a bit more about where I am working and who I get to work with (we have some stinking smart people on staff). Scroll down and you can even read my bio.
I'm a bit disappointed that the Red Sox lost to the Indians. After blissfully ignoring* the entire baseball season until someone pointed out that the Rockies had miraculously played their way to a spot in the Series, I was kind of hoping to have a bit of home spirit rivalry going on next Wednesday. But what displaced Indian fans will I find here in Boston with whom to exchange friendly banter?
That said, is anyone up for a Rockies--I mean--World Series party next Wednesday? You must wear purple and black to attend. :)
*I don't even have a category for Sports, so I file this under BeanTown.
My wardrobe finally came so my clothes are off the floor. I have a mirror on the wall. My newest roommate didn't want the bedframe she had, so I got it. My car is registered with a MA inspection sticker. Architecture in Helsinki is on Saturday. I feel officially moved in now.
The funny thing about Photobooth is that it does this mirror-image capture...
So I did my own mirror image thing:
For my first ever encounter with New Hampshire, Evan took me to the Castle in the Clouds. I forgot my camera, but a few leaves gathered from the forest floor will have to suffice as the storebox of memory.
The castle, built by a man five foot one, was filled with curiosities such as busts of Napoleon (the short ones have to stick together), an Aeolian pipe organ, maximized closet shelves (no wasted space here!), and the early jet-stream "needle" showers, complete with early 20th century advertisements lauding the needle shower's therapeutic benefits. Looking at the contraption of pipes and jet nozzles, I could imagine a full-bodied massage with envy.
Though the woman at the gate entrance had ordered us to enjoy a variety of scenic benefits on the castle grounds, Evan and I felt no need to feed the trout in the fish pond. Instead, we made an unscheduled stop at a little waterfall, until we had to un-impede traffic and get moving again. We also apparently missed the Corvette Show, but we did awkwardly tromp through a wedding. If only we had been dressed up, we could have said we were friends of the groom: the groom always has extra room on his side.
The drive back took us past a vegetable and ice cream stand. I glimpsed some pumpkins and so we turned back and purchased a little five pound number. It is currently cooking in my little toaster oven. I may not have a real oven, but by gum, I cut that pumpkin into four pieces and it actually fit. I'm going to bring in a pumpkin pie to the office tomorrow and we shall all celebrate a small taste of Canadian Thanksgiving.
We also passed by a piece of American history which, until Evan pointed it out to me, I didn't realize was a piece of American history. On the side of the road were a series of signs which said...
Are you tired
Of traffic fines?
Just slow down
Till you can read these signs.
I'm a little pumpkin, short and stout....
Today's the Funke barn dance. I'm sad to be missing it. I guess I could always participate in GLBT Square Dancing to make up for it.
Boston. After getting lost in downtown Quincy looking for ice cream in Braintree and finally purchasing it a few blocks from my place at a convenience store, the city is starting to grow on me.
I've been walking to work this past week, as the office is only a mile away from my apartment. As you can see in the picture a few entries down, I like wearing hats. But apparently hats are not the norm here in Boston. Forsaking the head covering, I embarked for work yesterday with my hair in a barrette clip. A construction worker at one of the major intersections I pass everyday stopped me: where is your white hat? he inquired. I was shocked that in a mere few days I had managed to make myself conspicuous enough to merit fashion attention. If I had been more on my toes, I would have snapped back a witty "Well, you know you can't wear the same outfit to the same intersection twice in a row, now don't you?" but instead all I managed to splutter out was a dazed "You noticed that??" That's the problem with being a J. You aren't very spontaneous sometimes.
I've also decided I need to develop a deep and authoritative phone voice, so people won't think that I'm 12 years old. If you really want to touch raw nerves, tell me to "speak up, I can't hear you." It's a sore part of my psyche that some day I suppose I'll get over, but dang, for right now, it's one of the surest ways to fluster me.
There are still some things to unpack yet, but as you can see, I have stuff on the walls now....
The best way to feel at home is to make a home. Invest.
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So closing down my life in Canada hadn't really left me much time to anticipate the new life in Boston. And so when I arrived last night, I suddenly felt rather overwhelmed by change. But today I was able to go a few places and get a more solid sense of direction. Maybe I will even learn how to barrel down Dot Ave with nary a flinch. Someday.
I found myself playing piano for Christ the King Dorchester, by which I mean, I played chords off a lead sheet as harmonic filler. But I'm really excited to get my hands on a piano again. I've been wandering around in theoretics for too long. My hand probably won't ever be able to do fancy scale/trill passage work again, but the chords work and make me feel useful--that's a wonderful feeling to return to.
Tomorrow starts orientation with TechMission. I'm getting excited to start work and routine.
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