Yearly Archives: 2004

Hoegaarden (Who-Gar-Den)

Thumbnail: Hoegaarden

En célébra­tion of his new job, Trolley and I head­ed over to the near­est Oak to grab a pint. I had the chance to try some Hoegaarden White, and it’s one of the most inter­est­ing beers I’ve ever tast­ed. It has a unique hazy yel­low colour (which is rather obvi­ous in the pic­ture), due to the fact that it’s unfil­tered. There are lay­ers and lay­ers of cit­rus and spice, which come from corian­der and dried Curacao orange peels, that make the fin­ish more sharp than crisp. Not a beer I would gen­er­al­ly drink, but def­i­nite­ly an unique taste that any­one should try at least once. alco­hol

Pieces Of April

I real­ly don’t know what I was expect­ing from Pieces of April, but its doc­u­men­tary-style direct­ing and well thought out script made it an effec­tive movie nonethe­less. In the end, Peter Hedges presents the last few scenes in still pho­tographs, let­ting the audi­ence come up with their own reac­tions and dia­logue. All one is sure of is that every­thing is resolved, and every­one is hav­ing a good time. And for a movie like this, that becomes the most impor­tant thing.

Subtle Summer Day

It’s so sub­tly beau­ti­ful out­side this morn­ing. It’s been a string of sun­ny, clear morn­ings in a row, but today, at 6:30 ante merid­i­an, the sky was dark and grey.

There’s still a mist through the air, and it feels like a damp fall evening, one best spent in front of a fire with a book in hand and the smell of wood in the air. If it weren’t for the fact that this is well into spring, this day would­n’t feel so out of place. But alas, all the street lamps cast their yel­low­ish light onto the streets, and all I want to do is lie in bed and lis­ten to the wet tires of cars dri­ving by.

Bel Canto

I’ve been try­ing to fig­ure out how Bel Canto has cre­at­ed such ice cold music, then I real­ized that a lot of the mood comes not only from the chords, but the instru­ments them­selves. Most of them have no rever­ber­a­tion, and the ones that do begin with a stac­ca­to prick. On top of that, there’s no steady beat, just awk­ward, mil­i­tary style plucks. Add in some airy vocals with what I assume is a sopra­no sax (it’s a lit­tle too brassy to be a clar­inet, but sounds like a reed instru­ment nonethe­less), and almost any type of music would sound cold.

A Cat's Internal Schedule

In the morn­ings, Dolly will wake up from my alarm. When it rings, whether she’s on my legs, on her pil­low, on my neck, or against the wall, she’ll walk to the foot of the bed and stare at the door. At night, she’s usu­al­ly in my room by the time I go to bed. I think she’s final­ly been able to adapt to my sched­ule because it’s the first time I’ve been able to con­sis­tent­ly go to bed and wake up for more two months.