miscellany

Wow, I had a lovely rehearsal last night - I played frame drums with UCSB's middle east ensemble and they had me play a tune for them on the dutar at the end of the night - my friend who I go up to play Uzbek music with played with me on the doira and it went really well. It was so well received I got embarrassed. It does feel good to have people respond well to the music that I make, but I'm not quite comfortable with the performing artist subject position. I never really have been, I think it was one of the reasons I couldn't handle becoming a professional musician - that position of having other people invest in your musical vision and production is something I shy away from, even though sometimes it can be really fulfilling.

After rehearsal I caffeinated and called SB stoner boy because he had asked me to - he keeps insisting that he wants to see me, blah blah blah but never makes the effort to actually see me or even to initiate communication with me. When I called he was asleep (stoner!), so I didn't end up dropping by. For the best I think - it would have been nice to develop something with this one, but he seems pretty useless as far as the logistics of even a fuckbuddyship goes. If he starts making an effort to see me (odds of this are inching toward 1 over infinity) then I would be happy to be around him, but I am done making effort.

So now I am at work and my boss is still at lunch - I got to deliver the My Fair Lady script to be retyped and track down a CD with Edgar Stillman Kelley's Alladin Suite. I think I like this job - it is a very researchy kind of scut work :)

yes it's another silly quiz, but I'm really bored at work....

I dunno how I feel about this one, but it's hijacked from weeks ago in tragic_squirrel's journal.


You are the Marquis Da Sade. Even stripped of
exaggerations, Your real life was as dramatic
and as tragic as a cautionary tale. Born to an
ancient and noble house, you were married
(against your wishes) to a middle-class heiress
for money, caused scandals with prostitutes and
with your sister-in-law, thus enraging your
mother-in-law, who had you imprisoned under a
lettre de cachet for 14 years until the
Revolution freed you. Amphibian, protean,
charming, you became a Revolutionary,
miraculously escaping the guillotine during the
Terror, only to be arrested later for
publishing your erotic novels. You spent your
final 12 years in the insane asylum at
Charenton, where you caused another scandal by
directing plays using inmates and professional
actors. You died there in 1814, virtually in
the arms of your teenage mistress.
You are a revolutionary deviant. I applaud you.


Which Imfamous criminal are you?
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