This passage from page 101 of F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise struck me last night.
    Then at six they arrived at the Borges' summer place on Long Island, and Amory rushed upstairs to change into a dinner coat. As he put in his studs he realized that he was enjoying life as he would probably never enjoy it again. Everthing was hallowed by the haze of his own youth. He had arrived, abreast of the best in his generation at Princeton. He was in love and his love was returned. Turning on all the lights, he looked at himself in the mirror, trying to find in his own face the qualities that made him see more clearly than the great crowd of people, that made him decide firmly, and able to influence and follow his own will. That was little in his life now that he would have changed....
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Yet another night of tired procrastination. It's starting to become a theme. I've been working on a paper for English about The Great Gatsby, but as usual, I've made it incredibly difficult for myself. I have to talk to my teacher about letting me start the introduction without a quote from the book, which is really an inane requirement. Also, I want to write something about how Gatsby equals jazz, but none of my literary criticism is about that and I basically have to bullshit everything. I mean, I'm a bullshitter extraordinaire, but still. Research papers are not typically enjoyable for me.

My dad took this picture at dawn this morning from his studio in Times Sqaure. For the sake of keeping up appearances, I fiddled around with it a bit in PhotoShop, but the colors and composition are all original. It's kind of breathtaking, actually.

I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps )

I wore a skirt today for the first time since maybe November or early December. It was nice. I was more comfortable than I expected to be. Except when I went outside. Then it sucked. I hate when it's below freezing and we have fire drills. Damn you, Stotler.

Orchestra business galore this week. My audition was today, for second semester seating. I officially hate Gregor Handel. I don't think I'll keep the section leader stool. On the other hand, we're setting up rooms for the Boston trip, and I'm going to be hanging/sleeping in the vicinity of Meredith, Sarah and Kristin Dahly. It is going to be kickass, from what I can tell. Party time, guys. So, in conclusion, Dev's a bitch for freaking out at us for talking a bit in rehearsal, but then she gives JT, Meredith and me multiple free candy bars. Which basically means that Dev is weird. And yet we love her. I think.

What else has been going on? Nothing. I suck at calculator games. Neigel has a lighted, rotating tie rack. There is, apparently, a calculator function that solves quadratic formulas, like, thanks guys for telling us that now and not three years ago. My Spanish teacher is still a raging bitch, but I got to use a homework pass today. I'm seeing Grease tomorrow night, and I'm expecting a train wreck, so I'll probably be impressed in some regard.

Also, I think I'm in love with Harry and the Potters.
Yeah, I'm officially a huge dork.

This is a soundtrack of sorts I made for F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby - or really, more of a soundtrack to one of Gatsby's infamous parties. It's a combination of authentic 20's jazz (Lionel Belasco, Zoot Sims), imitation 20's jazz (Vince Giordano, off the Ghost World soundtrack), 30's and 40's big band (Dinah Washington, Ella Fitzgerald), imitation big band (Bjork), new stuff that sounds old (Nellie McKay, Jamie Cullum) and the Triplets of Belleville soundtrack, weirdly enough. I'm actually quite pleased with how it came out. Plus, it represents one of the weirder corners of my musical taste.

And so I present to you...

The Party Next Door: A Great Gatsby Soundtrack
Generique D'Ouverture Triplets of Belleville
I Must Have It Vince Giordano's Nighthawks
Venezuela Lionel Belasco
I Get A Kick Out Of You Jamie Cullum
Bach A La Jazz Triplets of Belleville
I Wanna Get Married Nellie McKay
Our Love Is Here To Stay Dinah Washington
Georgia On My Mind Vince Giordano's Nighthawks
It's Oh So Quiet Bjork
Blinuet Zoot Sims
Rue St. Vincent Yves Montand
You're Just My Type Vince Giordano's Nighthawks
Attila Marcel Triplets of Belleville
Clarice Vince Giordano's Nighthawks
Manhattan Avenue Nellie McKay
Dream A Little Dream Ella Fitzgerald
My Funny Valentine Ben Webster

Here's the front cover: Again, huge dork here )

If anyone wants a copy, please let me know. I know jazz isn't everyone's cup of tea - especially old timey stuff like this - so I'll wait to get requests before I start up the factory. Oh, and JT? I already burned you one.

In other news, happy Valentine's day, all. I had a good one.
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Rebecca

April 2005

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