not gonna write you a love song December 28, 2007

 She said that she wasnt gonna write you a love song, and she didnt….she wrote a love album. I’m not really sure how i stumbled upon this young artist, but with her jazzy voice and catchy lyrics Im pretty glad i did. Sara Bareilles has a single out, maybe youve heard it, called Love Song? She petit, has light brown hair, attended to UCLA, loves touring and wears Chucks… oh and plays pretty hot piano.  Vocally, she reminds me of a jazzy KT Turnstall, or even Fiona Apple, but personally, a little more Bonnie Rait-minus the guitar, add the piano – influanced. Making it to top 10 on iTunes, her release called “Little Voice” of 12 tracks is a mix of ballads and uptempo catchy melodies….most probably hidden in the “B” section of Barnes & Noble. Its worth the search. Again, vocally, shes distinct~ like one of those “either you love her or you hate her” kinda things. And if youre driving alone, prime road trip material in my opinion. But, give her a try if youre looking for a good cd {to add props, at present, she’s on tour with Marooon Five}  I think we can say that rarely do good ones like this come out.  

♥ im not gonna write you a love song cus you asked for it
cus you need one, you see ♥
♥ im not gonna write you a love song cus you tell me its 
make or break in this if youre on your way ♥
 ♥ im not gonna write you to stay
if all you have is leaving, ima need a better reason to write you a love song ♥
 ♥    today.

…and the eyes in his head, see the world spinning ’round. August 4, 2007

Childhood is a strange country. It’s a place you come from or go to – at least in your mind. For me it has an endless, spellbound something in it that feels remote. It’s like a little sealed-vault country of cake breath and grass stains where what you do instead of work is spin until you’re dizzzy.

beautiful writing eh? i want to take credit, especially because in two weeks my childhood will be, as said, a “strange country” and the above writing will magically pertain to me.  but i cant take credit.  in my dreams could i write something that deep. i have to tell you the truth. It was written by Lyall Bush the executive director of Richard Hugo House [a center for writers and readers]. the bold words above are copied off a Grande Starbucks cup that at this moment is still filled with black coffee. rediculous of me? yea. desperate of me? perhaps.

by saying it will magically pertain to me, i wasnt kidding. The past few days ive been going into work with my mom as just a get-away from my house because unlike smart teenagers I just havnt been sneaking out when no ones home like apparently im supposed to be doing. Anyway the other day i sat down in her office chair, and just  started spinning.  Faster and faster i spun myself, eyes shut, feet barely touching the ground. I was so dizzy i thought i was going to get sick. Then i started cracking up. What was I, six? i have no idea when the last time was that i felt the need to whip myself dizzy in an office chair, or the last time the opportunity presented itself.
College orientation in 2 weeks. So let me have some fun alright? let me spin a while before the office chair befits a different purpose.  

i believe in yesterday … in the tropicana July 19, 2007

I have a confession. I have never attended a concert. i know, what else do you do with childhood? what the hell happened on those summer friday nights? Want to hear the truth? I dont think i’ve ever loved a band or artist so much as to know every song, or experienced a willingness to witness their personalitly enough to enjoy them live….well, enough to pay $40 for a few hours. Dude, im cheap. And i often thought about it….i guess the only band i really only knew so well and grew up to love so much as to see a concert was the Beatles? kerri, youre a freak. not to meantion, asking the impossible. but, a freak no less.

But guess what, last week it got pretty damn close. Appearing at the Tropicana in Atlantic City, New Jersey this summer, until September 3rd is a scathingly brilliant on-tour-from-Vagas- replica Fab Four tribute band proudly taken by the name of Yesterday.

The room on the first floor of the Tropicana Casino in which the boys…or men, delighted in triggering good memories was invented to appear much like the Cavern – as my obscene un-year -2007 teenage mind shocks 18 year olds everywhere in knowing- is where the Beatles played their starting days in Liverpool. The walls were brick scattered here and there with Beatle Posters (ok, so Sgt.Pepper album posters would not have been on the walls of the Cavern just yet..),  a few tables but mostly chairs, and a fog machine because God knows the Cavern Club would not have been smoke free. It was renamed “The Liverpool Club” im sure with much help from a copyright the Trop could maybe not afford.
The music clips which were showing on two televisions within the room before the show began was not Beatle Music, but rather late 50′s/early 60′s tunes which at first caught me off guard but then, in reality makes sense.

Then the concert began. The lights dimmed, yet the ”smoke” still lingered.  The two televisions simulatiously began to stream footage of Ed Sullivan making out his what would have been usual night talk show. Meanwhile Yesterday began to set up. Ed Sullivan announced the famous words “These young lads from Liverpool…..” and then the introduction from Ed Himself …..YESTERDAY! (dubbed over “THE BEATLES!” for copyright and obvious reasons)

Yesterday began to play their set. Im not going to lie, being one of maybe 5 people there under the age of 50 and 1 of 3 who were female under the age of 50…i screamed and shouted. To add embiance of course.

 As for the music, there is no doubt that recreating something like a real Beatles concert is dangerous grounds. Yesterday made out though. Though the speaking accents were undeniably unbelievable, making staged jokes only true Beatle fans would grin at,  i have to give credit to what was most impressive – and that is John Hepburn who played pretty boy Paul Mccartney. His vocal chords hit Mccartneys range, not something that can be found just anywhere, and the best part…he was left handed! But it is Vagas, so i did expect the best. As for the stature and gestures, all four of them had it down, from Paul’s non-stop head bopping to John’s holding the guitar up to his chest and hunching over the microphone. Though George appeared to look quite old his resemblance could be overlooked for his voice almost matched the recording of Roll Over Beethoven which we all know and love. John i was not quite as pleased with vocally but its agreed Lennons voice is perhaps almost as hard to match as Mccartneys.

The quartet opened with early songs such as All My Loving, I Saw Her Standing There, and Hard Days Night reminiscently attired in black Beatle suits. There was a five minute “intermission” and when the boys returned, they were surprisingly clad in their gray star-pinned Shea Stadium outifts – performing a Rubber Soul/Revolver melodies….even going so far as Yellow Submarine using backround recorded trumpets and vocal help from the audience.

The tribute band took their final Beatle bow and although the mop tops were seemingly fake and the music not surpassing 1965 which in a way might make sense seeing as the group ended touring around that year, the “concert” was fufilling in ways that i did not imagine. Although i was surrounded with 64 year olds who clapped their hands and rattled their jewelry letting out the occasional “I WAS THERE!” it felt good to go to a concert, call me insane, where i knew every word of every song.  I highly recommend seeing Yesterday if ever you have the chance. Tickets are only $20. And it will put you in a mop-top feel good mood for the rest of the week.

Is there anybody going to listen to my story… February 9, 2007

So here we go, it was the other night, surfing again before i went to bed. I forget what the story was which i had heard on news, but i URLed yahoo.com to read about the obscurity. You know those little windows that flash up the different genres of news….yea you know,  the news blocks where just as you are about to click on the story, the picture and link switch to another headline. Or maybe thats at AOL? 

By the time i got distracted with the pop ups and side adds i had forgotten what it was i was looking for.  Now my eyes were vulnerable to any story which contained words that looked somewhat familiar to me. I saw some which read “Across the Universe“….something something….”musical”….”featuring songs by the Beatles….”
i knew the song. And the Hit Band. The picture looked a little odd, but the music part caught my interest.

http://movies.yahoo.com/feature/acrosstheuniverse.html

A romantic musical told mainly through numerous Beatles songs performed by the characters. A young man from Liverpool comes to America during the Vietnam War to find his father. He winds up in Greenwich Village, where he falls in love with an American girl who has grown up sheltered in the suburbs. Together they experience the sweeping changes of America in the late 60′s.

I clicked the trailer…and i started watching. Something featuring Beatle music can never be predicted. It opened with a young kid…i thought at first was Orlando Bloom….but his Liverpool accent was a little too good for an Elf, or Hobbit or whatever he is.  i read the discription and thought–Hey this looks like a good story.
By the end of watching, my mind was spinning with colors and images. The scenes during the  ’Na, Na, Na,NaNaNaNa Hey Jude’ reminded me a bit of illusional images in Alice In Wonderland. Though, of course, my extent of the 60′s is watching Field of Dreams and seeing pictures of Woodstock in those Peace, Love, Dope books on the featured shelf at Barnes N Noble. My parents aren’t even old enough to know all the details of the decade. So maybe those times were a bit like Alice In Wonderland?  I’ll never know.

This movie peeks my interest….but i think merely because im interested in knowing where the Beatle music fits in. The main characters name is [hey] Jude. Others are recognized as [sexy] Sadie, [the benefit of] Mr. Kite, Lucy [in the sky...], Jo Jo [who bought some California grass? just a guess...] and more.

…..interesting. But i dont really know if you would catch on much unless you’ve heard every Fab Four song. In fascination of course, not obsession.

The film is classified as Performing Arts/Musical. From what it looks like, i’m wild guessing it resembles something much like Broadway hit Movin Out. Rated pg 13 for sex, drugs, and war. And peace maybe. Who could have presumed?

Anyway, dare to watch the Trailer. And let me know as to how far you think this movie will rate in September of 2007.
 

“and i said, ‘thats a good job!’ ” – J.Lennon January 26, 2007

After a depressing day, i’m willing to write about something less stressful than my life. Lets see…

A couple days ago i wandered into a Food Lion after ballet class (now properly “Bloom“).  It was a late night, few people were in the store, nonetheless it was open. Maybe open for those mothers with millions of kids who only find time to do their shopping when they the house is asleep. Thats what i always thought. Anyway, i was in the checkout line and i placed my food on the black conveyer belt. I heard a somber “how are you tonight?” which i knew was code for “hurry it up i want to go home you loser. who goes shopping at this hour? its because of people like you that i dont get home until midnight”.  I looked up at the young girl who was carelessly scanning my food and the thought occurred to me – when i was a little kid, this is the exact profession i aspired to become.

Yes, i know, not natural. You often see little boys dazed by those fire trucks at parades, saying “Thats it mommy, i wanna be a fireman!” or, little girls watch one episode of Angelina Ballerina and thoughts meander: ”Ballerinas wear pink? i’m in!” Clearly i was not normal. I took one look at that black conveyer belt which magically moved on its own – added to the scanning sound and the beam gun which seemed to magnetically find the bar code every time – you had yourself a real job.

I actually remember being at home, with a calulator next to me, monopoly dough in stacked ontop the single dinner fold up table, and to my right, piles of anything in my house that still had a bar code sticker on it. When the bar code would fail to scan, (as it often does in reality), i would type the number below it into the calculator and say “there we go, your total comes to…10 dollars”. I can’t remember if there was actually a human being on the other side of my check out line.
And of course, i never did get one of those Toys-R-Us cash boxes, where the drawer would ring each time the button was pressed to make it pop out. Imagine how many barbies i would have traded for that. And how many more customers would have taken me seriously.

Since then, i have to tell you, sadly my ambitions have changed. A “ballerina” was a definite future for a few months. And then maybe a “teacher”. Or a just a “mom” – all those dolls which i brought back to life everytime they had a “cold”. Maybe a writer? I was obsessed with writing childrens books.

But in the end, nothing compared to the sound of that beeping scanner with the red beam. “Your total comes to…..kerri get a life” This was me at 6. Little did i know that within the next 10 years my goal would be demolished with the design of “self check-out lanes”.

Nonetheless, now each time i see one of those “checkout line girls”  with the pins that say “I need ID if you need alcohol“- i swear they seem so depressed. And that was my goal in life? Counting bar codes until you finally realize they remind you of prisoner apparel? Dealing with customers who honestly think they were charged for something twice.  Paper or Plastic?

Little did i know, the step above an “Express Lane” was something much greater…
Stocking Shelves.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

after re-reading this i realized i took pleasure in thinking about someone else’s stress – which, in the end, got my mind off of my own?  
I sincerely am pathetic.

And if you want some fun : ob-la-di ob-la-da January 20, 2007

Whats now: a regular Saturday morning after a week of the highschool life. The first day of the week where sleeping in until 9 oclock is permitted without receiving a tardy demerit. Felt pretty good, and my snooze button is definately worn out.
You know its been a stressful week when on saturday morning your body instantly wakes up at 7:00 (or earlier) and says…aight, you idiot. you slept in again, your late, you have to get up..NOW. Your brain pretty much succumbs to the bodily mistake and freaks out thinking …there goes first period…why was my alarm not set? why isnt anyone else up? what freaking day is it?!
Then you realize….thank God its saturday. For me, tights and a leotard were waiting to be worn, and its another weekend morning at the Ballet Studio. 

I met up with my dancer friends, and we joked around about how our legs felt like 500lbs of metal due to the soreness from the previous night’s class. We decided to skip out on our 2nd hour and half ballet class. Because, in case you havn’t noticed, too much ballet makes one go insane. Its a well known fact. 

We went to McDonalds, ate some yogurt parfaits, and instead of doing more pretty pretty princess dancing, we returned to the studio 1/2 hour later and walzed into hip hop class. For the first time this year – a load of Bunheads trying desperately to dance sexy and forget about the balletic perfectness which was madatory in the class before it.  The teacher laughed at us.  But, we just laughed moreso at ourselves. 

we looked like idiots. we had more fun than we had had all week.  And we left without our hair pulled back. No more ”buns” attatched to the back of our heads….. we exited with the bobby pins held in our hands. We said to eachother “we need more of this”.  And clearly we do.

Hmm, Maybe Next Saturday.