Spare me this life from this monstrosity
Damn, I want this drummer for my band! Mamaaaa… Mama? Yoohoo, Mama!
Currently listening to:
Eluvium
Similes
Now Reading
Pronto
I feel really silly thinking back on all the bitching I did when I was packing stuff to take with me to Qatar. Because now, with a child in tow, it’s much, much harder. So much harder that I’ve had a headache for the past couple of days.
Again, the malle, our big blue trunk, is sitting in our living room waiting to be filled. Am I filling it with stuff? No. I’m slumped against comfy pillows, blogging while watching tv shows I don’t really want to watch (I’m watching MacGyver reruns; as you can see, my procrastination has reached epic proportions).
Before you judge me, let me defend myself: it’s really hard to pack when you don’t know how long you’ll be staying in another country. Here is a transcript of a conversation several months ago:
Jul: Hey. We’re moving to Rome.
Kala: Rome! How exciting! When?
Jul: I dunno… in a month maybe. Not sure.
Kala: How long are we staying?
Jul: I dunno… still have to figure that out.
Kala: Are we taking Lila?
Jul: Are we tak… OF COURSE WE ARE! She’s our child!
Kala: Where are we going to live? In a flat? In a flat in the city? Or near your office?
Jul: I have no idea actually.
*moment of silence*
Kala: So what do you know?
Jul: That we’re moving to Rome.
This is the longest I’ve been alone with the kid, and it’s driving me up the wall. The flat seems so empty, especially in the evenings. I miss my Juju. Lila on the other hand simply seems puzzled as to why her other slave is missing.
Currently listening to:
Beirut
Gulag Orkestar
Personnes
We trekked to the Grand Palais one Sunday to see Christian Boltanski’s Personnes, the third installation in the Monumenta series. Boltanski had scheduled his exhibit to be shown during the coldest time of the year, and then the heating was off as well, so you can imagine how pissed off I was, after standing in line outside for 30 minutes to get tickets.
But once inside, everything comes together, and even the freezing temperature makes sense. Used coats are arranged to form neat squares on the floor, rusty poles at the corners and a light tube in between; sixty-nine squares of cloth that make you wonder about the people who wore them. At the very end is a mountain of clothes and a crane hovering over it. The crane grabs a handful of clothes with its claws, makes a slow ascent, and then releases the clothes into the air so they flutter back down into the pile, over and over.
What completes the atmosphere is the sound. A rhythmic beat, but not steady. Sixty nine recorded heartbeats echoing throughout the vast space of the Grand Palais. It’s quiet enough to be disturbing. It feels like being surrounded by hundreds of ghosts.
Shivering in my coat, I think of how appropriate the title of the exhibition is. Personnes. In French it means nobody. And also, somebody.
Currently listening to:
Grizzly Bear
Veckatimest
The sun for several hours
The sun came out this morning and suddenly the flat was lit up with the promise of spring and the end of this goddamn winter. And then several hours later the grey and the wind and the cold took over.
Seriously, we’ve had enough! Give us back the sun and heat already!
Currently listening to:
Múm
Go Go Smear the Poison Ivy
I Love You Philip Morris
Enorme.
I can’t think of a more appropriate word to describe Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor’s latest film. Oh wait, maybe I can. Hilarious. Or Excessive (I mean that in a good way). Or, like the French say, terrible (which doesn’t mean it’s terrible, but the opposite. Go figure.)
Yesterday was movie night for me and Jul; the last film we’d seen together at the cinema was Gran Turino, so you can guess how long ago that was. Thank god for the visiting inlaws. So we browsed the Now Showing section of the UGC website and watched all the trailers and decided that we wanted to see something light and funny because goddam it, these days, amidst diapers and a wailing child and this damn weather we’re having, we desperately needed a good laugh. So we booked our tickets, hauled ass to the cinema, scarfed down some pho noodles before the movie, bought a bucket of popcorn…
My deepest, darkest secret is that I laugh my head off at Ace Ventura 2 (only the second one, mind you – if that redeems me). If I catch it on HBO, I’ll watch it. I love Jim Carrey in certain films; I think he’s an excellent actor, and I love him in I Love You Philip Morris. And for awhile there I sneered each time I’d see trailers of Ewan McGregor’s recent films (seriously, Ewan… from Trainspotting to Angels and Demons? But then you could be thinking, “Seriously, Kala… Ace Ventura?” Touché.), but damn, I’m glad he chose to act in this one.
If you’re homophobic, meaning if you are a loser, then you’d better skip this one, which will make you a bigger loser than you already are because it’s one of those films that make you wish directors directed more of, and producers produced more of (hey, Executive Producer = Luc Besson). Seriously, go see it, you’ll love it. I swear. It’s enorme.
PS. I was wondering where I’d seen Rodrigo Santoro, the guy who plays Jimmy, all throughout the movie. If you’re wondering as well, he plays the guy who steals diamonds and dies in an episode of Lost.
Currently listening to:
Get Well Soon
Vexations
The Courage of Others
It’s a Tuesday night, a rainy and cold one at that, but over at the 11th arrondisement’s rue Oberkampf it feels like a Friday night. Cafés and restaurants are filled to the brim with bored-looking, chain-smoking Parisians. It’s almost 21:30 but people are still spilling out of the metros and heading off to appointed meeting places to wait for their friends before flitting off to bars to start their evening.
I get off the metro and walk down the length of rue Oberkampf to Nouveau Casino. I’ve got a ticket to see Midlake in my bag, purchased months ago. Actually, I have a pair of Midlake tickets. Julien and I were supposed to go together, but because no babysitter was available he offered to stay home because I badly needed a night out and Jul is aces like that.
A lot of my friends think that going to concerts alone is sort of sad. It is, in a way, but I don’t really mind. I used to go to concerts alone while Julien was in Qatar and I was still in Paris. The only problem with going alone is that if you go to the bar to get a beer no one saves your place on the floor.
The new album has yet to grow on me; I have to admit that I find that the songs drag a bit, but then again it’s probably just my mood. Also, after an hour of traveling by metro to get to the concert I was all wound up and ready to dance, but a lot of the songs from the latest album are “sway tracks” – so we ended up just swaying a lot. I guess, like I said, I just wasn’t in the mood for it.
They did play Roscoe and Head Home and some other tracks from The Trials of Van Occupanther; such a shame they didn’t have anything from Bamnan and Silvercork on the playlist. But don’t get me wrong – they’re a fantastic band to see live. The songs from the new album are melancholic, bare and raw, and the effect achieved is what Midlake does best: they hide complexities in the most basic of melodies. And yes, it works!
Here’s an oldie but goodie from Midlake’s Bamnan and Silvercork (video by Jason Lee too, take that!):
And Roscoe from The Trials of Van Occupanther (god, when I think of the number of times I had this song on repeat while driving the roads of Doha…)
Fortune, from The Courage of Others:
Currently listening to:
Midlake
The Courage of Others
Saturday night fever, teethers
Julien is sick with a stomach bug, fever and chills. He’s currently wrapped up in our thickest comforter and moaning the loss of his long-awaited weekend. Lila is teething. At least, we suspect she is teething (We want to look at her gums, but each time we open her mouth she sticks out her tongue). She drools all over the place, she babbles nonstop, she chews at her fists with a vengeance.
The weekends are supposed to be my days-off, but given the circumstances and the rainy weather outside, it seems that I have to put off my several-hours-of-feeling-like-my-old-self till next weekend. So here I am in the kitchen, with Conan O’Brien’s last ever episode of the Tonight Show playing in the background (I love you Conan. And I hate you Jay Leno), eating leftover cake from last Thursday. Damn. I’m so worried when the people I love are sick or uncomfortable. I wish I could make things better.
Currently listening to:
Akron/Family
Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free
4 months
Almost four months. Christmas lights installed and then put away, train rides from the north to south, snow and rain and sun and wind. Time passes, you grow, we live. Nights growing longer and sleep getting deeper, smiles in the bathtub, cries and tantrums, books being read. Emergency room trips and bandages and tears. Us singing songs you will never remember, the warmth of my embrace I hope you’ll never forget. Time passes, you grow, we live. You on my knees, you in my arms. You kicking your legs and squealing in joy. The light in your eyes upon seeing your favourite toy. No more sleeping in my arms; you’re too big for that now. From my bed, beside me, to your crib, alone. You waking from nightmares, whatever baby nightmares you have, and me smoothing your forehead, smoothing the monsters away. The days and the nights and the lullabies we sing. The snow falling, the snow melting, the footsteps vanishing into pavement. You constantly in my heart. Always, always. Time passes, you grow. We live.
Currently listening to
Broken Social Scene Presents: Brendan Canning
Something for All of Us…
In the negatives
I am soooo not looking forward to the coming week…
Currently listening to:
Kent
Hagnesta Hill
