11 posts tagged “depression”

It would be easy to sit down and feel sorry for myself.  But frankly, I've done enough of that today, and the truth is, I'm actually amazingly lucky.

Monday night two friends and I went to Sonic.  We had the windows down, but I didn't want any spillage in my car, so we decided instead to sit five feet away in the porch area.  Right beside my car!  And I, the always-responsible, never leaves a car unlocked gal, left my windows down.  A truck a few spots over from us was being the typical redneck, but seemed to be revving his extremely loud engine more than was necessary, especially considering it was a parked car.  We all looked at it, and commented on the driver's douchebaggyness.  We sighed in relief when he pulled away, and I watched him come around the other side of the building.  I looked right at the driver, and he at me.

This afternoon, not quite two days later, I reach to get a CD out of my glove compartment.  ...There are none in there?  Weird, I think, and feel annoyed with my dad for rearranging my car.  But then I think... wouldn't he have told me?  I call my mom, who knows nothing about this.  I'm starting to get freaked out, and I want to plug my phone into the in-car charger.  ...Except the in-car charger is not there.  There are CDs still sitting on my seat, but all but one have been removed from my glove compartment and both my in-car phone charger and FM transmitter for my iPod are gone.

It takes me about 20 minutes to finally remember what happened and piece together the windows down at Sonic, the unnecessary engine revving, and the driver's eye contact with me as he pulled away.  It takes me another 20 minutes to realize that the item I was counting on to make me feel better about losing 15-20 CDs, my iPod Ben, was in my center console.  And that's why my center console looked funny to me when I went looking for my phone charger:  because my iPod was not in it, where I remember leaving it.

It takes me a solid five more hours to realize they've taken my registration, car insurance info, warranty, and instruction manual for my car.

Needless to say, I freaked out.  It's more than losing an iPod to me.  First of all, my iPod's name is Ben, and I have a problem with humanizing inanimate objects.  Second of all, I'm a musician, and that iPod had so much important stuff on it.  Most of it I can get back with time, but not all.  And it's just offensive and hurtful.  And ironic.  I see the amazing good in people as the community of Prattville is unified in helping out families like mine who were affected by a monstrous tornado.  And then I see jackasses who had nothing better to do than steal shit out of a college student's car when she was sitting a few feet away like an oblivious idiot.

But here's the thing.  I wallowed for a while, and bless him, Brian had to listen to my cry and cry for the millionth time in the past two weeks.  But then, while I was at the hair appointment I refused to miss even after this crap, my mom mentioned something about an old man with no home insurance whose home was completely destroyed two-and-a-half weeks ago.  And I thought, it's some fucking technology.  It's replaceable.  You lost your iPod, not your home.  Now get over it.

And I did.  And I hesitate to even mention this next part, because it's going to make me sound like the most spoiled brat ever in existence.  But I need to express just how amazingly wonderful my family is and how lucky and blessed I am to have a family like mine.  I went to visit my grandmother tonight, who was upset to hear about what happened and retaliated the way loaded grandmothers do best:  a hug and some money.  A blank check she told me to give to my mother, actually, upon hearing that I was about to go meet my parents at Circuit City to replace my in-car charger (kind of a necessity, with the calls and driving I've been doing lately).  And I arrive at Circuit City to find my parents.  We get my charger, but before getting in line my dad cheerfully says, "Well, let's go get the iPod."  To which I firmly refuse; but my parents won't be denied when they have their mind made up like this.  They knew, and told me they knew, how important my music is to me, how important it is that I have something to keep track of it, study with, learn from, everything.  And they had decided I would have another iPod, and I would have another FM transmitter, and there was no room to argue.  And if that's not enough, they're not even mad about what happened.  My dad said, "You got suckered.  It wasn't your fault."  It was my fault, I thought and said.  And he did nothing but express his sympathy and eagerness to do this for me.

Let's ignore the fact that I'm spoiled for a moment.  And you'll just have to believe that I'm being honest when I say... my parents were so happy to help me.  In the midst of all this stress and bullshit they've been dealing with regarding our house and insurance and their work and everything, I think it just made them happy that when something bad happened to their daughter, they were able to help.  Maybe it's the fact that it was finally something they were able to fix themselves, right then and there, or maybe they're just incredibly kind and generous--I know that it's both.  But I think I'll go ahead and vote today a good day.

Okay, I know that everyone's buzzing about Heath Ledger's death and it's all celebrity gossip blabla.  And I feel stupid making a big deal out of it, but this one seriously hit me.  Heath Ledger was probably my first real teenage-crush-on-a-celebrity, and so as silly as it sounds, I really strongly associate him with my teenage years (call me a girlie girl, I can't help it!).  Aside from that, I really think he was a terrifically gifted actor, and I was--and am--looking forward to his performance in The Dark Knight, although now it will certainly be a bittersweet experience.  I hate when people get so involved in the world of celebrities, but I can't help but feel as if someone I knew died.  It's odd, and I feel silly about it, but there you have it.

Rest in peace, Heath!  Thanks for all your great work.

I've made the roughly 45 minute drive to the airport twice in the past two weeks; each time NPR has given me a little symphonic present.  The first time it was Beethoven's Fifth; today it's Dvořák's New World Symphony. If you've never heard it and you enjoy symphonic music, might I recommend it?  It's fitting my mood perfectly today.

Mmmm Dvořák.

I just made a lengthy post about this on the Playstation 2 forum at Playstation's website, so I'm just going to copy and paste that post to explain.  (I should also point out that those forums are where I started making friends online; for at least a year of my life, that was pretty much what I did every night:  go hang out and talk to people on the RPG, PSX, or PS2 forum.  I was a loser and I'm quite proud of that.)  I know at least Katie and Kirkis will appreciate this.  The post reads:

I'm aware that no one on these forums has any clue who I am.  At the risk of sounding like your grandpa on one of his Glory Days speeches, I should tell you that I used to be kind of a big deal.  These forums were mostly my home for quite some time.  I mean, I remember when the PS2 board was bright yellow and had a countdown on it, if that tells you anything.

All that to say that when what just happened to me happened, I knew the only place I could go to make myself feel better was here.  Official disclaimer:  I'm not asking for technical support here, which I suppose I'm not supposed to do.  I'm just relatin' the past ten minutes of my life.

Although I used to be very much so all about the video games, a thing called college happened to me and took away all my dignity happiness game-playing time.  My PS2 has sat pathetically in my TV stand for quite some time, unused and unloved.  I am ashamed of this, and humbly confess my sins to the gaming gods; may they forgive me.

Yet unto me must come some form of punishment, and it did.  I received a game for Christmas and felt a nostalgic tug in my heart; I would play again!  Today I flipped the switch on the back of my PS2, pressed the eject button eagerly, and watched as the disc tray slowly, awkwardly, painfully attempted to open--with little success.  Finally I managed to get it open and put a disc in.  I waited... waited... waited.  The system was reading... reading... reading.  And then, horror of horrors, I saw those three words that all of us, old and new Playstation lovers alike, dread beyond all dread:

Watching Meerkat Manor.  More specifically, watching Meerkat Manor because I wanted to relax after a long day before getting to some work tonight.

Double-you.  Tee.  Eff.  I'm so depressed now.

The good thing about working for a church is that the day after a wedding... you get free food!

Someone begins a new life; I get cake!

Also good is the fact that you make excellent money just to sing.  Imagine how much money I'd make if people paid me to sing in my car.  Also good is that after several months of doing this, my sight-singing has improved tremendously.  (This might've been more useful my freshman and sophomore years of college, where I had to take classes in sight-singing.  Oh well.)

I'm bored in a weird way.  I should study, but I don't feel like it--and I'm about to sit at a library for four hours, so I can probably get some studying done there.  Mostly I'm in a mood to listen to depressing music and nap!  Napping, alas, is not an option.  Colin Hay's "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" seems to be doing the trick in the depressing music category.

Ugh.  When you were little and bored in this somewhat-down sort of way, you could just knock on your neighbor's door and ask if your friend could come out and play.  What's the adult equivalent of that?  (Probably alcohol.)  Someone come play with me!

I just spent the past hour (literally) listening to Gavin Bryars's The Sinking of the Titanic.  It's a minimalist piece based on accounts of the sounds involved in the ship's demise, specifically this:

"...from aft came the tunes of the band..... The ship was gradually turning on her nose - just like a duck that goes down for a dive. I had only one thing on my mind - to get away from the suction. The band was still playing. I guess all of the band went down. They were playing "Autumn" then. I swam with all my might. I suppose I was 150 feet away when the Titanic, on her nose, with her afterquarter sticking straight up in the air, began to settle slowly.... The way the band kept playing was a noble thing. I heard it first while we were still working wireless, when there was a ragtime tune for us, and the last I saw of the band, when I was floating out in the sea with my lifebelt on, it was still on deck playing "Autumn". How they ever did it I cannot imagine."

The piece is constructed around the idea that the band never stopped playing, even after sinking into the water.  The same hymn is repeated many times (I mean, the piece is an hour long), each time slightly more distorted as the band sinks to the bottom of the ocean (and sound effects representative of the ship itself are added and removed appropriately).  The band's death is symbolized by the complete elimination of strings from the music for several minutes; their return symbolizes (at least, this is how I interpret their return) their rebirth in the afterlife and the timelessness of this story.  (It's terrible, I know, but that part reminds me so much of the end of Titanic.)  The entire piece ends on a plagal cadence--better known as the "Amen" you hear at the end of any given hymn tune.  It's absolutely beautiful, and frankly I think it's one of the most moving pieces I've heard all semester in music history.

You can read the composer's explanation of the work (well, specifically a newer recording of it) here if you're interested (and if you're as much of a dork as I am.)

I said, "Ben [my iPod], you know how to make things better.  Go, baby, go."  And I put Ben on Shuffle (skipping the songs I didn't particularly care to listen to... Ben's amazing, but like everyone else, he's not perfect), and I thought it would be interesting to document what happened (omitting the ones I've skipped and in numbered form to save space):

1. 8stops7 - "Question Everything"
2. Travis - "Funny Thing"
3. The Beatles - "I Feel Fine"
4. Bush - "Come Down"
5. Green Day - "Are We the Waiting"
6. Simon and Garfunkel - "The Times They Are A-Changin'"
7. The Spores - "Moon Shine Down"
8. Fuel - "Solace"
9. Coldplay - "Parachutes"
10. Ben Folds - "Evaporated (Live)"
11. Harvey Danger - "Moral Centralia (Demo)"  (forgot I had this... never listened to it before)
12. Chopin - Prelude No. 11 (I think in G# Major?)
13. Matchbox 20 - "Hang"
14. Trust Company - "Erased" (well, that was dumb)
15. [massive amounts of skipping]
16. Colin Hay - "Beautiful World"

And now I do believe I'll settle on this album for a while.

Frantically studying for my Piano Literature quiz tomorrow has gotten me a-thinkin':  What's with musicians and madness?  Or musicians and tragedy?  Beethoven's loss of hearing (not to mention alcohol-related stuff), Schumann's infamous insanity (hello, two different personalities he himself named...), Chopin died in 1849 at the age of 39... what is this stuff?  Is there something inherent in music that brings depression, insanity, tragedy, etc.?

Even in popular music of today... How many of what are considered some of the most brilliant popular (and by "popular" I only mean "not classical") musicians committed suicide, or overdosed, or died of some freak accident (ok, the only one of those I can think of right now is Jeff Buckley, but still).

...Geez, what have I gotten myself into?  Ha.

I could go into my thoughts on this in more detail, but I'm determined to be in bed by 2:00, and I've got a lot more studying to do.

Make your day better and go listen to some Chopin... I'm currently rocking out unto Ballade No. 1 in G Minor.

Execution of All Things

In keeping with the mood of yesterday, we have some Rilo Kiley for my listening enjoyment.  I'm not exactly in the funk I was in yesterday, but I am still in a mood to listen to the mellow tunez.

The QotDs have been interesting me lately, but I've been too lazy to answer any of them.  As far as interesting buildings go, I feel I've lived in a few in my short existence outside of my parents' home.  My first dorm (simply called "Main") was this very old mansion-like building, the biggest on campus.  Most memorable was this enormous "Grand Staircase" which I was to stupid to ever take a picture of.

Last year I lived in "Peck Apartments," campus apartments which had nothing apartment-like about them except private bathrooms and a tiny, mostly useless kitchenette.  I loved this building though because it was so weird; from the outside it looks like the dullest brick box, but you go in and it's (unintentionally) M.C. Escher-tastic; the stairs always intrigued me.  The stairs were all in the center of this big "box," and the center was completely open air (although rumor has it was supposed to be covered...).  I would've hated living on anything but the top floor.

For all of May I lived in the most amazing house belonging to my boyfriend's mom... it's BEAUTIFUL. Two floors, 8 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, two kitchens, a beautiful backyard which a local creek runs through.  I'm heartbroken that they're selling it.

And now here I reside, in a perfectly typical apartment complex which I feel perfectly happy to call home.

And that's my sappy entry for the day; procrastination complete.  Now I should do something relevant.