Saturday August 18. 2001
Today at work I got first crack at all the promos in the music department that were coming down off the listening stations. This has to be the number one most wonderful thing I love about this job: I get free CDs. Hark:
Timbre, Sophie B. Hawkins.
Don't know much about her. I think I liked a song of hers a couple years ago. Isn't she gay?
Blood Red Cherry, Jann Arden.
Same deal as above. But I think she's straight.
Live, Pat Metheny Trio.
I am always up for jazz. Plus he toured with Joni Mitchell.
Brand New Day, Sting.
I love Sting. I've been meaning to get some more of his stuff, though this album sounds more like Sting trying to imitate Sting.
Red Dirt Girl, Emmylou Harris.
No, Jesus Christ, she isn't country.
Poses, Rufus Wainwright.
Since he's going to be opening for Tori Amos on her tour, I figured I should know something about him. I'm trying to decide if his voice is annoying or not. Anyway, I love his song "Hallelujah" from the Shrek soundtrack. I can't get enough of it.
All That You Can't Leave Behind, U2.
Kate will be pleased.
I've been obsessed with a couple other albums that at the moment I can't afford to get. One is by David Gray, called White Ladder. There are these two songs called "Please Forgive Me" and "Babylon" that just kill me. His voice has a perfect nasal timbre that I love. It sounds lovelorn and lost and it blends perfectly with the guitar and drums that remind me of traveling across a desert.
I also stashed away a couple of $7.99 bargain cds in my locker for when I can buy them - this includes The Score by The Fugees, Nomads Indians Saints by The Indigo Girls, Grace by Jeff Buckley and Bitches' Brew by Miles Davis.
I know, I'm obsessed. I've even had my eye on a John Coltrane box set for some time, too.
It's funny, I've never had an obsession for books the way I've had for music. Obviously you don't see me hoarding James Joyce or Thomas Pynchon (like my dorky boyfriend, who has at least 5 different copies of Ulysses). I wonder why. I love to read. I drink words in with the same intensity as when I listen to music, but I don't have nearly as many books as cds. Maybe it's something about the visuals of the cd and the personality behind it.
So, I have been saving up a bunch of stupid work stories.
I am firmly convinced that every large retail store has a nut that somehow attaches him or herself to the store and will not let go. At B&N, it was this guy who would call the cafe every day, without fail, and ask what soup we had. Every. Day. But he would never come in to actually get the soup.
At this store, we have Joe. Joe is this old guy who I think is on some sort of extravagant disability pension. Every Monday he calls the store. The unfortunate person who answers the phone must spend the next hour on the phone, telling Joe all the new releases on CD that are coming out the next day. The only reason we really put up with this is that every Tuesday Joe comes in and spends about $200 on cds. Yeah, I wish. That's like how much I make in a week.
A very executive-looking couple, tall guy in a suit with his gorgeous blond wife come in one day and come up to me at the info desk.
"We need 'Getting It On'." he said, very abruptly and loudly.
I struggled to keep a straight face and led them back to the sex section. Instead of letting me find the book, the man said shortly, "We can find it. Thank you." They were obviously very intent on getting it on.
Then there was the guy who came in to the store absolutely REEKING of pot...and the 7 year olds who come into the music section and ask for Eminem...
I do have one funny story left over from B&N that I don't think I ever mentioned in these pages. One day I went into the bathroom. There was a book right next to the toilet, but that was no big deal, it happened often. I picked it up to take it back to its shelf. It was a book of lesbian erotica.
I'm sure you can draw the conclusions I did without any further elaboration. I felt so dirty...
I went into the studio tonight to see if the kiln was out, and it was. I had one of my pieces in there, the first of the reliquary series. I was so afraid it might explode, since there was only a very small hole for the air to escape. But it was there and intact, and it was a beautiful glossy gray-black with a creamy white inside. The lid fit perfectly, and the effect of the piece was just stunning.
I think I've found my first portfolio piece.
One Year Ago:
"When I was little, a summer day could stretch into eternity (come to think of it, some of the days this summer stretched into eternity), but now times flies by at lightning speed."