All Over The Place

Friday I was in the mood for something different. I wanted to be music related, so I was between Monteverdi’s Opera Poppea, Boston Gay Men’s Chorus: Boys Just Wanna Have Fun: Totally 80s, or Stile Antico’s Renaissance music. Well, the opera was sold out, and then I was thinking that I wanted something mellower than 80s music. So I went and saw Stile Antico at the Emmanuel Church.

The concert was part of the Boston Early Music Festival. The ensemble performed songs from the courts of Renaissance Europe. It was magnificent. It sure helps performing in a church, and I was feeling chills going through my body. Majestic songs, beautiful voices. I felt really good afterwards, slightly elevated in spirit.

Came back home around 11:30pm and I remembered the whole thing with the facebook usernames, which some started calling vanity URLs, and writing essays about. What was the big deal? Facebook was fueling the hype with a count down clock to 12:01am Saturday which was when you could claim your username. So f*ing what? I mean I did claim mine, just because I happened to be on-line, but why was it thought to be a big deal? After Saturday, I haven’t heard or read anything about it, which makes me wonder how many people actually bothered to do it. And actually who cares. I just find it very interesting how easy it is to create a hype.

What else? Tomorrow is a holiday for me, Bunker Hill Holiday. The weather’s supposed to be nice and I should find something interesting and outdoorsy to do. Meanwhile I have a f*load of work to do, and keep daydreaming. Staying focused is sometimes hard to do.

Oh, yeah, I also saw the movie “Away We Go”. Bloody hell, another movie that I was expecting it to be better than it actually was. Can’t somebody make a good, honest movie? Can’t filmmakers get over their unbearable pretentiousness, the unending conformity, the toning down? It’s like they wanted to make a funny movie, but not too funny. And they used so many lines that were supposed to be funny, but they weren’t, cause they weren’t bold enough. The movie was full of characters that are caricatures, but the main characters (Verona & Burt) aren’t. Verona and Burt are so much better than anybody else. Balance, anyone? Another detail that was irritating was that when Verona was supposedly crying, she was wiping away invisible tears. What’s the flippin’ matter? Can’t somebody get the fake tears? Oh, yes, and don’t let me forget the scene on the trampoline,  so sticky and ineffective. And it got tiresome and so painfully mediocre, so fake, so bloody pretentious. Now that I think about it the only thing I liked about the movie was Alexi Murdoch’s songs and “Ellen’s” name, which was spelled L N.

When the movie ended I was really hungry. It was around 9:30pm on a Sunday, and around Kendall Square there was nothing compelling to eat. The newly opened Friendly Toast was closed (as I learnt later they close at 3pm on Sundays), and Emma’s was closed too. What’s going on people? Kendall Square, you suck. We ended up going to Chez Henri and splitting a delicious veggie cuban sandwich, and I had a perfect Periodista.

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