as soon as i've figured out a way to archive all of my posts here, i'm closing this blog. i'm not in the position anymore (nor have i been for a very long time now), to write about what's truely going on in my life. so i don't see the point anymore.
i've got facebook for the english speakers, hyves for the dutch speakers and if i really need to share something, there's always e-mail. as for my opinions, notes, crazy ideas and plotlines - the novel i've been meaning to write is getting more solidified in my head, so i should save the 'writing energy' for that.
so that's that! thanks for reading, see you somewhere else in cyberspace.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
monday movie night: doubt
i could utter all sorts of 'funny' play on words with the title of this movie, but... i will not. i respect any endeavour to make a good movie. it must be a pretty hard task and sometimes, all the right stuff to make a great flick is there, but it just doesn't work. i think what went wrong is that they didn't add any 'cinematographic added value' to an original play. and a play-on-screen is much too deviating (not in a good way, obviously); it lacks the actual presence of the actors.
okay. blah blah blah. really. seriously?
meryl and seymour (my next husband) were great. more than great. fantastic. but i didn't feel it. too much hood and too little angle. SORRY!!!
i'll go stand in the corner now.
okay. blah blah blah. really. seriously?
meryl and seymour (my next husband) were great. more than great. fantastic. but i didn't feel it. too much hood and too little angle. SORRY!!!
i'll go stand in the corner now.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
me and dmb (it rhymes)
i lived across the street from my high school. my stepdad used to say that whenever he'd look outside the window, he would see a 1000 esthers. i hated that he denied my self-acclaimed individuality that way, but he was probably right. us girls all had long hair, which we would flip to one side, we all wore levi's 501-s and cowboy boots under an oversized men's shirt and we all had bomber jackets.
i thought i was different though, mostly because i didn't have wham or madonna posters on my wall. i was never a stereotype teenage fan. i wouldn't scream at the sight of some 20 year old popstar. instead, i listened to eric clapton, the dire straits and blues music. lots and lots of blues. more blues. there's something disturbing about that. a pristine girl wailing along to lyrics about alcohol, unemployment, slavery, unrequitted love (okay, the latter was right up my alley until i hit 16).
me and the girls would go to local blues bars where we would sport our identical teen looks amidst a 40+ (and usually pretty drunk) crowd. ah - but this is the netherlands. no harm, no foul. the crowd just looked at us with a mixture of annoyance and amusement - we just avoided their gaze and looked at the stage, bobbing our heads in hope of looking like we belonged there.
i was pretty arrogant about it, too. what *i* listened to, was *real* music. whatever song hit #1 in the charts was immediately labeled as crap. seriously, i was such a brat. god. i was lazy though. growing up among musicians and being the spawn of a music library on legs, i was used to people supplying me with "new" stuff on a regular basis. so i basically let others determine my taste after all.
being lazy and too arrogant for mainstream radio (alternative timeslots were way past my bedtime), i missed out on some terrific stuff. mind you, this was back when the internet only existed in an 8-cornered building in a country far, far away. rock stars were still rock stars (and not public property). they were people who lived in exotic places like england and the states and they were above and beyond anything ordinary. once in a while, if i got lucky, they would grace our tiny spot on the planet with a visit. and if they did, you but all peed your pants but kept a smooth face because that was the cool thing to do.
i guess i made up for all of that 10+ years later when i finally became a 'real fan'. karma turned out to be a bitch. i paid back for all my teenage arrogance when the object of my fan(aticism)hood wouldn't come over to do a show or two. instead, i had to wait and wait until i finally had enough money and time off work in order to fly across the world to see 'my' band live. and it turned out to be all worth it, because there's nothing like seeing your first show of your favorite band at the most beautiful outdoor venue in the world.
but you all know this story.
i'm not the fan anymore that i was in 2002. 'my' band will always be one of my favorite bands, but i'm just not cut out for obsession and this one exception could therefor never last long. yesterday, when i was on my way home from work, i listened to d&t @ paradiso on my ipod and #41 came on. and i skipped it. i SKIPPED it. that may seem like nothing, but seriously? that's a really big deal for me. but it doesn't end there: in a flash, i thought "wow, i never noticed this song is kind of boring". total and utter blasphemy! my cheeks turned purple with shame.
so i'll still be there, front row, if they ever make it back (well, 4 of them at least).
i'm still very curious about the new album.
i'll want to see another show in the states (preferably before i die, thanks).
i'm forever grateful for the experience of the extatic feeling being a 'real fan' has brought me.
i'm even more grateful for the friends i have met through this band.
but something, i guess the blindness and ruthlessness of being a 'real fan', has gone. and although it feels bittersweet, i'm also glad about it. i'm too old to be a teenager. i paid my dues and now i can go back to being arrogant and thanks to the internet, find up and coming (or not so up and coming) new musical gems in cyberland from the comfort of my chair. bring it!
i thought i was different though, mostly because i didn't have wham or madonna posters on my wall. i was never a stereotype teenage fan. i wouldn't scream at the sight of some 20 year old popstar. instead, i listened to eric clapton, the dire straits and blues music. lots and lots of blues. more blues. there's something disturbing about that. a pristine girl wailing along to lyrics about alcohol, unemployment, slavery, unrequitted love (okay, the latter was right up my alley until i hit 16).
me and the girls would go to local blues bars where we would sport our identical teen looks amidst a 40+ (and usually pretty drunk) crowd. ah - but this is the netherlands. no harm, no foul. the crowd just looked at us with a mixture of annoyance and amusement - we just avoided their gaze and looked at the stage, bobbing our heads in hope of looking like we belonged there.
i was pretty arrogant about it, too. what *i* listened to, was *real* music. whatever song hit #1 in the charts was immediately labeled as crap. seriously, i was such a brat. god. i was lazy though. growing up among musicians and being the spawn of a music library on legs, i was used to people supplying me with "new" stuff on a regular basis. so i basically let others determine my taste after all.
being lazy and too arrogant for mainstream radio (alternative timeslots were way past my bedtime), i missed out on some terrific stuff. mind you, this was back when the internet only existed in an 8-cornered building in a country far, far away. rock stars were still rock stars (and not public property). they were people who lived in exotic places like england and the states and they were above and beyond anything ordinary. once in a while, if i got lucky, they would grace our tiny spot on the planet with a visit. and if they did, you but all peed your pants but kept a smooth face because that was the cool thing to do.
i guess i made up for all of that 10+ years later when i finally became a 'real fan'. karma turned out to be a bitch. i paid back for all my teenage arrogance when the object of my fan(aticism)hood wouldn't come over to do a show or two. instead, i had to wait and wait until i finally had enough money and time off work in order to fly across the world to see 'my' band live. and it turned out to be all worth it, because there's nothing like seeing your first show of your favorite band at the most beautiful outdoor venue in the world.
but you all know this story.
i'm not the fan anymore that i was in 2002. 'my' band will always be one of my favorite bands, but i'm just not cut out for obsession and this one exception could therefor never last long. yesterday, when i was on my way home from work, i listened to d&t @ paradiso on my ipod and #41 came on. and i skipped it. i SKIPPED it. that may seem like nothing, but seriously? that's a really big deal for me. but it doesn't end there: in a flash, i thought "wow, i never noticed this song is kind of boring". total and utter blasphemy! my cheeks turned purple with shame.
so i'll still be there, front row, if they ever make it back (well, 4 of them at least).
i'm still very curious about the new album.
i'll want to see another show in the states (preferably before i die, thanks).
i'm forever grateful for the experience of the extatic feeling being a 'real fan' has brought me.
i'm even more grateful for the friends i have met through this band.
but something, i guess the blindness and ruthlessness of being a 'real fan', has gone. and although it feels bittersweet, i'm also glad about it. i'm too old to be a teenager. i paid my dues and now i can go back to being arrogant and thanks to the internet, find up and coming (or not so up and coming) new musical gems in cyberland from the comfort of my chair. bring it!
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