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Jun. 21st, 2003 01:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormdogI spent almost a full 12 hours at work today. Then, upon returning home, I accompanied my dad and a couple other people (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foreignlegion and The Evil Bob) to Barnes and Nobles where Bob intended to acqure the new Harry Potter book. This did not occur, but it was kinda fun seeing the crowds of Harry Potter fans mobbing the building. Many were dressed up for the event too. It was sort of like seeing all the worst costumes from a sci-fi/fantasy con come together in one place. Except for one person dressed as Draco Malfoy, who was very good. Except for having his hair color slightly off, he was a really good match, and I thought that was kinda neat.
I haven't had many weeks like this one. On top of all the work, I keep thinking of my dear one. She's in a really tough situation at the moment. She's crazily packing stuff away to move, with not enough time to get it all done, and she doesn't even have a place to move to yet. She's in what is probably the most difficult and trying situation I've ever seen her in, and I can't really do anything to help her. I feel so impotent here. I want to give her so much. I would do anything for her. And here I am, 8 hours drive away, with no way to give her my support beyond talking to her when she can spare a few minutes from everything that needs her attention. What do you do when the person who is the center of your existence, who means everything to you, is in trouble, and you can't help? All I want to do is rush to her side and hold her, talk to her, and help her in any way I can. But, circumstances preclude my being with her, and it pains me considerably. Nothing is more important to me than Andrea.
It seems that today, yesterday now, was the 55th anniversary of the birth of the LP as a musical medium. 97.1 FM was playing full length vinyl all day, and there was some really neat stuff being aired. Adding a beautiful touch of nostaligic atmosphere was the sound preceding each new album, the sound of someone dropping a needle onto the record, the friendly crackle of the blank grooves before the beginning of the first song... I caught Dark Side of the Moon on the way in to work, and listened to it in the car with my dad. Dark Side of the Moon is an amazing work. So unearthly, so ethereal, and yet so much of it resonates with me all the same. The last two tracks on the album, Brain Damage and Eclipse, can take my breath away. Maybe some day I'll find some Pink Floyd vinyl at a thrift store. There's something about old records that really appeals to me. The big beautiful cover art, the warm, living sound of a turntable. I wish I had a turntable...
However, not all was well in the land of broadcast music this day. Toward six o' clock, the Dwarf, my dad, and I all had to sit through all four sides of Bob Dylan's Blonde On Blonde. We unanimously decided that Dylan is best revieved in small doses.
Then, on the way home today, as I was roaming through the FM dial, a Beatles song was suddenly filtering through my speakers. As the melody of Something, from Abbey Road, filled the car, I found that, not only was my dad singing softly along, but I was too. I've always been strange about music. Through most of school, I listened to nothing but classical, at least half the reason behind that being to spite the kids I was in school with, to be different. My tastes have vastly expanded, but I've always been oddly nervous and embarrassed about letting those interestes plainly show themselves. I'm not sure why, but until recently even having music on the radio while I was driving with someone made me a little bit uncomfortable. Then, today, I found myself singing along with my dad. I doubt he appreciated the significance of the moment at the time, but it was something that really surprised me, and felt really good. As we cruised down I-94, listening to Something, and each thinking, I imagine, of our respective beloveds, there was a certain sense of togetherness there that, while certainly not a new or entirely uncommon thing for me to feel with my family, was profound enough for me to want to write about it here.
I am so very tired right now. And I have another eight hour day tomorrow. And my brother just got into the shower. *sigh* Guess I'm stuck being awake for a few more minutes...
foreignlegion and The Evil Bob) to Barnes and Nobles where Bob intended to acqure the new Harry Potter book. This did not occur, but it was kinda fun seeing the crowds of Harry Potter fans mobbing the building. Many were dressed up for the event too. It was sort of like seeing all the worst costumes from a sci-fi/fantasy con come together in one place. Except for one person dressed as Draco Malfoy, who was very good. Except for having his hair color slightly off, he was a really good match, and I thought that was kinda neat.I haven't had many weeks like this one. On top of all the work, I keep thinking of my dear one. She's in a really tough situation at the moment. She's crazily packing stuff away to move, with not enough time to get it all done, and she doesn't even have a place to move to yet. She's in what is probably the most difficult and trying situation I've ever seen her in, and I can't really do anything to help her. I feel so impotent here. I want to give her so much. I would do anything for her. And here I am, 8 hours drive away, with no way to give her my support beyond talking to her when she can spare a few minutes from everything that needs her attention. What do you do when the person who is the center of your existence, who means everything to you, is in trouble, and you can't help? All I want to do is rush to her side and hold her, talk to her, and help her in any way I can. But, circumstances preclude my being with her, and it pains me considerably. Nothing is more important to me than Andrea.
It seems that today, yesterday now, was the 55th anniversary of the birth of the LP as a musical medium. 97.1 FM was playing full length vinyl all day, and there was some really neat stuff being aired. Adding a beautiful touch of nostaligic atmosphere was the sound preceding each new album, the sound of someone dropping a needle onto the record, the friendly crackle of the blank grooves before the beginning of the first song... I caught Dark Side of the Moon on the way in to work, and listened to it in the car with my dad. Dark Side of the Moon is an amazing work. So unearthly, so ethereal, and yet so much of it resonates with me all the same. The last two tracks on the album, Brain Damage and Eclipse, can take my breath away. Maybe some day I'll find some Pink Floyd vinyl at a thrift store. There's something about old records that really appeals to me. The big beautiful cover art, the warm, living sound of a turntable. I wish I had a turntable...
However, not all was well in the land of broadcast music this day. Toward six o' clock, the Dwarf, my dad, and I all had to sit through all four sides of Bob Dylan's Blonde On Blonde. We unanimously decided that Dylan is best revieved in small doses.
Then, on the way home today, as I was roaming through the FM dial, a Beatles song was suddenly filtering through my speakers. As the melody of Something, from Abbey Road, filled the car, I found that, not only was my dad singing softly along, but I was too. I've always been strange about music. Through most of school, I listened to nothing but classical, at least half the reason behind that being to spite the kids I was in school with, to be different. My tastes have vastly expanded, but I've always been oddly nervous and embarrassed about letting those interestes plainly show themselves. I'm not sure why, but until recently even having music on the radio while I was driving with someone made me a little bit uncomfortable. Then, today, I found myself singing along with my dad. I doubt he appreciated the significance of the moment at the time, but it was something that really surprised me, and felt really good. As we cruised down I-94, listening to Something, and each thinking, I imagine, of our respective beloveds, there was a certain sense of togetherness there that, while certainly not a new or entirely uncommon thing for me to feel with my family, was profound enough for me to want to write about it here.
I am so very tired right now. And I have another eight hour day tomorrow. And my brother just got into the shower. *sigh* Guess I'm stuck being awake for a few more minutes...
