Frédéric, Misun, and the boys are moving to France to explore a new business venture. To say goodbye to everyone, they rented out a karaoke bar and had a party. The night was a cacophony of sound, for the kids were given free reign of the dance floor and ran around in circles, while the adults took turns singing and eating.
This is my first “5x5”; a video of five vignettes at five seconds each. It’s a helpful guideline for putting together footage that doesn’t necessarily have a consistent theme. It’s also very restrictive, as five seconds is barely enough to see what’s going on in a particular clip, and that means you really have to find the essence of action. I generally don’t make 5x5s because I always have a story to tell, but in this case, it’s fun just to see how people sing. This is very different from the Chinese karaoke parties I was witness to as a kid, where the adults take their singing very seriously, so everyone is very quiet, attentive, and quite rehearsed.
The one who stole the show was Akio, who had heard Frédéric, Misun starting a duet of Ne Me Quitte Pas, took the microphone from Misun, and started repeating the line he had just learned.
I told Frédéric, “It’s amazing that you’re not nervous up there”, and he told me, “I just said to myself that I want to have fun, and it wouldn’t be fun if I didn’t sing, so I wasn’t nervous.” I wish I could do that.
I’ve been in the strangest mood lately. Killing my Top Rated playlist everywhere I go, yet I skip through 90% of the songs, trying to find the right one. Talking to myself. Replaying conversations in my head.
I don’t quite feel at one with the Tao. I’ve been letting small things get to me. It’s as if I’m falling back into my old destructive habits, but upon realizing this, I fight against it. The struggle, when observed objectively, is quite amusing.
These are exciting times. Along with the excitement comes nervousness. It’s turned me into a jumble of emotions, bittersweet, and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
Wish I could do something with this feeling.
I just found out that Krista Muir, who’s alter-ego Lederhosen Lucil I fell in love with two years ago, is playing in a small studio in town on Friday. Entrance donation is $5. As much as I want to go to hear her new album (released today, featuring ukuleles over Yamaha synthesizers), my main reason would be to get some pictures of her. I never get a chance to do concert photography, and she has a playful personality with the costumes she wears.
I’ll probably bring my 15mm and 24–70mm lenses, and be shooting at f/2.8 and 1600 ISO the whole time. I would consider my 50mm f/1.8 prime just for that extra stop of light, but I lent it to Pat and primes are much less versatile in such situations.
Two years ago, I missed her only stop of her tour in this city, when I had to “coach” my team in ladder matches at the table tennis league. That made me a sad panda.
Just thinking about going is making my stomach flutter. I may go to movies by myself, but I never go to concerts alone. The noise and crowds of concerts make me especially uncomfortable (and overstimulated), but a friend always helps me get over it. Unfortunately, no one else I know enjoys her music (which I would describe as fairly esoteric), and I wouldn’t put someone through music they didn’t enjoy. Added to this, I’ll be taking pictures, which always makes me feel very self-conscious.
Normally, I take a few weeks to mentally prepare myself for something like this, but since it’s such short notice and the opportunity doesn’t come around often, I’m forcing myself to go.
I’m scared, and nervous, and excited all at once.
Edit: I just noticed that my “similar terms” custom field, which automatically enters keywords from the entry to match words in the database and pull “related entries” on the left, includes the word “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”. Hilarity.
I laugh when I’m nervous. Especially around girls I’m attracted to — total gigglefest. I also laugh uncontrollably around people I meet for the first time. People lower their guard when there’s laughter, and I suspect my mind subconsciously finds humour in everything to put people at ease around me.
Around people I hate, I’m dead silent. That’s how you know I don’t like you: if I don’t talk. The mere presence of one of these people forces me to fully concentrate on not drilling a 4‑inch hole in my temple with a cordless DeWalt.
Pat’s different. He told me once that if you ever see him shake his head and shrug his shoulders, you’re in his blacklist. In an act of faith, he’ll give everyone respect and will even go so far as to stab you in the front, but he gives up if you cross his line of ethics. He’ll never be involved with anything related to you after that. It’s not that he hates these people, like me, he loses all interest. This is probably even worse than my reaction which, because his is cold. You mean nothing to him. I try to let go as well, but I can’t. In the back of my head I cling to the hope that these people can change. Sometimes I also wonder if these people ever listen to themselves and can understand exactly why I hate them, because it’s so obvious to me.
I also cry in emotional situations. It doesn’t have to be anything particularly sad or happy, just a time when emotions are high. Intense sports games, Tim Horton’s commercials, sometimes just because someone else is crying. I can hide it pretty well though; people don’t understand if you start crying in a seemingly innocuous situation.
As frustrating as these emotional reactions can be, I know they make me who I am.
I used to try desperately to remain cerebral and logical — like Pat — but my emotions would always get the better of me. Now I’ve learned to embrace them. I could only do this after accepting myself and becoming content with who I am. They give me something Pat doesn’t have: intense inspiration. That rush, when your stomach churns, when your head is burns, when you heart flutters.
They’re a part of me, and they make me who I am.
Promised myself I’d be in bed by nine, but my nervousness has made me too jittery to sleep.
“Poignant”, he said, just as I was thinking the word, and it made me realize that if there’s one thing I do try to be, it’s poignant. I don’t know why. Perhaps it shows good communication. Perhaps there’s mental relief in knowing that one is not alone, that others can understand and may feel the same way.