Attended the Andrew Bird concert at Alverno College last night. It was more than excellent, and actually approached fabulotastic.
I got my mother to give me money to buy his new album, Armchair Apocrypha (Bird’s interview with the AV Club about this album here), and got it signed after the show. Unfortunately, during the show, I kept falling asleep because I worked all day on Saturday! I was completely beat, but I felt really bad because I loved the music. At times it was almost hypnotic, but I suppose that’s no excuse. It was weird seeing Bird after the show. He seemed really aloof. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that he probably wasn’t stuck up but rather uncomfortable (I would have been).
Trying to gather up the motivation to finish a creative nonfiction assignment that needs to have photos (by God! Photos!). This makes me a little indignant; I have the writing done, which is a first, and now I need to scrounge for photos, as if the supplement is necessary! I suppose I could confront Ms. Hoffman about it. “Creative Writing,” not “Creative Writing plus Photo Essays displayed on PowerPoint Presentations or, if you’re ambitious, Microsoft PhotoStory,” I could say, cuttingly sarcastic. But my features are alas not predisposed to cutting sarcasm, so in the end, I’ll get it in by Tuesday. I’ll need to, because later in the week another indignity surfaces: We need to do an Annie Dillard style imitation, and I don’t quite like Annie Dillard (too vaguely nature-y, or to be perfectly honest, too happy at times. I hate happiness). It should be interesting, but I’d still much rather style-imitate Ernest Hemingway again.