Today was a bad day at school. I missed a lot of the day because I had an emergency and I had to go to the doctor. This was annoying because (1) No one likes to go to the doctor under any circumstances (unless there's a really, really good Treasure Chest AND a really, really good fish tank, and this doctor had NEITHER), and (2) It took forevvvvvveeeer and I missed a seriously, seriously important meeting and got in big big trouble and felt really really shitty.
On the other hand, I took the opportunity of missing school to mail some big packages to my sister and to (finally) turn in my film to get developed and to listen to this NPR story about coupon-clipping. This story made me decide that my life is seriously, seriously missing a coupon drawer. The woman in this story saved like $8000 last year just by using coupons! I mean, she went to Walgreens and got $50 worth of groceries for $3.92! WOW! How am I not a coupon-clipper yet? It seems like such an obsessive adventurous thing to do. And I am both obsessive and adventurous. So anyway, I'm going to start cutting out coupons. BONUS: I LOVE cutting shit out.
But then during 5th period I had this great math activity for Casey, and he had been largely ignored for the whole day, so this was going to be great for both of us, and this teacher told me that he needed me to watch over his class for five minutes and then it took him AN HOUR AND A HALF. After an hour and a half of feeling like a useless, ineffective prison guard parading around the set of High School High, I went back into the ARC room and SCREAMED. And that felt okay.
Then I talked to Kate Rosenberg on the phone and remembered how many people in the world I really, deeply admire and love: about 14. And she's definitely one of them. So that was a nice surprise, since the last time we talked was over syrupy muffin things in Walla Walla the day before graduation.
The best part of my day, however, was when I picked my butt up and drove out to Frenchman Street and went to NOT ONE but TWO jazz clubs (see? I told you I would do this. It is solely because I promised you I would. Otherwise I might have just chilled in bed watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother. Again.). They were both great, and I strongly, strongly recommend going to jazz clubs on Tuesday nights all by yourself. A rundown:
- The Spotted Cat is everyone's favorite club here. I meant to take Alex when he visited, but we were Gustaved out and never got to go. It's really tiny and there are wicker chairs set up near the stage and everything feels very hole-in-the-wall-in-a-really-good-way-ey. Tonight it was an erratic Louis Armstrong impersonator and his back-up band, and they played short little standards. I teared up for "Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans?" (quickly and quietly becoming my favorite song). The pianist's (very old) parents were in the audience, and they were totally into it. Outside, octogenarians lounged in lawn chairs and drank Bud Lite and gazed in.
- Snug Harbor cost $15 to go in, but I paid it and stayed an hour and a half. It was an enormous jazz pianist and his bassist and drummer. They were deeply classy. Tuxedos; lots of swaying motions; gorgeous, full-bodied instruments. The songs were lush and long; from an elegiac meditation on the standard "Moonlighting" to several rambling-but-hypnotic originals by members of the trio. I felt sleepy and happy and I wrote long poems in my tiny notebook. Well worth it to feel hidden and safe and in some ways the most at home I've felt in months.
So I'm blissful and ready for tomorrow. Hump Day. I've been reading so many good books lately, it feels like time is just disappearing...
On a non-jazz-related note (HA! NOTE!) I like this song by Matthew Shelton about women and kitties: Matthew Shelton - Women and Kitties