the everyday adventures of sabrina

i'm happy, hope you're happy too

i don’t have any snooty audiophile reasons for listening to records. and i don’t really have any aspirations to become a deejay or anything like that. i don’t care about that junk, by and large. i just happen to like records. my undying thanks are due to the pretentious indie fuckers for helping keep LPs trendy, so i have still more selection.

  • they’re tangible music. i can see the music. i can hear it without amplification. it’s physical and i can interact with it.
  • you can watch the light reflected on the disc as it goes round, as the needle goes up and down due to slight warping.
  • twelve inch singles mean REMIXES, REMIXES, REMIXES.
  • they’re heavy, and when i have a lot of music i know it.
  • try finding a vintage boxed set on CD for $5.
  • they’re called B-sides, not “tracks three and four”
  • some things sound better with slight pops and crackles.
  • record jackets and sleeves > elaborately overdesigned CD inserts any day.
  • you get eight tracks, maybe ten. make ’em count.
  • they come in different sizes. sometimes they come in different colors and shapes too.
  • there’s something satisfying about sitting on the floor going through a stack of records, or spending two hours in a record shop to emerge triumphant with hours of music, having spent twenty bucks (and that includes the one new pressing).
  • records reward you for taking care of them.
  • it’s mechanical, not digital. i know it’s working right because there’s a strobe light that tells me so.
  • $2 for a record i don’t know if i’m going to like all that much beats $18 for the CD any day.

start the day off right

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nothing gets your day started off right more than a nice, well-timed mail server crash.

at least it wasn’t next week, i guess.

i so totally told him so

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what really sucks is when you get multiple emails and phone calls from various people around campus who know you work on a certain project, mentioning that they discovered the stealth resurrection of its features and wish that you would have sent mail about it … and you can’t go yell at your boss that “I TOLD YOU SO” because that would be unprofessional. i mean, i’m not fourteen, but … (jumping up and down) … i really wanna!

i totally told them so. but i lost the debate.

oooh, check out passive aggressive, cranky sabrina. the vague veiling of topics in this blog fools no one; i wonder why i bother, really.

I’ve been trying for a week or so to figure out what flickr is. I mean I know it’s a photo sharing site, but what makes it so damn interesting? Then, last night, I finally figured it out: flickr is a MMORPG.

antenna.

i have to admit to having felt the same confusion. what the heck is so special about flickr? i mean, i’ve got two accounts myself — http://www.flickr.com/photos/sldownard/ is one to which, for the purposes of this blog entry, i just uploaded a picture of tiger, pissed off after i had him get a lion cut for the summer in my a/c-free apartment in hyde park, a couple of years ago — but only because two different friends each wanted me to sign up so they could get a free pro account. as the article says, i still think of it as iPhoto and friendster‘s bastard child. i’m sure there’s an appeal, i just haven’t figured out what it is yet.

very excited!

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i’m really excited.

i slept without my stupid brace last night — really, because i went to bed without it on and said “ah, fuck it” rather than get back out of bed and figure out where i left the thing — and have gone without it all day. my wrist is getting better… much better! i’m so pleased.

first of all, today, i was doing my physical therapy , and suddenly realized that i could turn my wrist palm-up at not just more than a 90° angle — which was previously all i could manage, and that on a good day — but all the way to about 3/4 of the way (or about 135°). i still can’t do much in the way of flipping my hand back more than a smidge, or about halfway down, and side to side (think, a royal wave) is right out as i can barely go either way, but i’m extremely excited about the twisting.

this inspired me to try doing downward dog, modified slightly (foam brick for my right hand, which was in a fist rather than flat, so my weight was on my knuckles). and it worked! it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world for my poor sad knuckles (though better with my foam blocks at home than with the wood blocks at the yoga studio — meep!), but it was possible. i am extremely excited. i haven’t gone for yoga class since before i went to atlanta, but now i’m thinking i might stop by tomorrow. if i’m more trouble for the instructor than it’s worth, for whatever things i have to modify or skip, then i can give it a little while before coming back again, but i miss it.

yaaaaay, dr. mass! nice man who fixed my stupid broken wrist! woohoo! (well, i’m sure there are also some residents who got to help implant surgical steel into my body who deserve credit, and that cute physical therapist who couldn’t read dr. mass’ handwriting, but, you know, he’s the only one whose name i caught…)