Friday, April 13, 2012


So, I was dinking around in the blog stats info and saw a weird referral link.


For those not in the know: I'm horrendously cetaphobic. They're terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. Give me sharks over whales, give me giant squids over whales. ANYTHING.

The stuff of nightmares? Whale songs. Lisa Frank. The former pediatric floor of the hospital (whale paintings EVERYWHERE).

I blame this terror on my probably too-young reading of Moby Dick. My pants-wetting fear was then actualized when I found out it's based on a true story. Monstro didn't help either.


The most crushing example of this fear came when I was in New York City for an awesome literature class. My classmates and I were at the Natural History Museum, enjoying the sights, when we entered the ocean room. The first thing that greets you upon entering this room is a life size model of a blue whale hanging from the ceiling, demonic eye posed to meet your own quavering ones when you set foot into the darkened cavern.

I freaked. I lost my goddamn marbles - luckily another classmate is stricken with a similar completely logical and fact-based fear and we gibbered in horror together. Also in the ocean room (fittingly crammed into a dark corner) is a diorama of a sperm whale attacking a giant squid.

Guess which part scared me more?

How is this not catapulting you into Lovecraftian madness?

I was forced to re-visit the horrors of that day when I was at the bar the other night. The Squid and the Whale was playing, and I foolishly did not connect the title to my repressed memory until the very end. Which resulted in me shrieking and flailing off my barstool.

Point is, whales are scary.

(also what monster is linking whale pictures to my blog I WILL END YOU)

Tuesday, March 27, 2012


The match results were announced last Wednesday. I got my first choice residency, and it's pretty prestigious. I could not have gotten this without the support and help of my fantastic preceptors, professors, and mentors. I'm still in a state of shock about it - though I've signed the contract and am looking for apartments, I don't believe it's actually happening.

Then I realize that I've got less than a month left in Reno and I get depressed, because this has been the best year of my life. I've made some fantastic friends and had equally fantastic experiences. (Open heart surgery? Tahoe? March Fourth?)

Prime example: my friend took pity on me freaking out about the match results Tuesday night. He invited me over, plied me with booze, and then took my phone away so I couldn't hit refresh on my e-mail every five minutes. The result? I had a fairly enjoyable evening with only occasional outbursts of "You bastard, give me my phone back. I watched two episodes of Community without looking and now it's time to CHECK AGAIN."

(side note: Community is probably the best sitcom on television right now. It's endlessly clever and hilarious and you all need to go watch it)

The day after the results came out, I got to go with Buster Blue on tour to Treefort Music Festival in Boise. Best weekend ever. I'll put up a longer post about it in a bit, but for now here's a video where you should play spot the accordion player:


Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Come to the Sea

I am long overdue for an accordion video. I blame thirteen hour shifts that left me getting home at times inappropriate for some mad squeezeboxing. Now that I've FINISHED PHARMACY SCHOOL, I'll have much more time to play and record.

This is also in attempt to stave off madness while I wait for the results of the residency match to come out tomorrow. I have no idea what I want to happen, and am anticipating an evening of frantically hitting refresh and waiting for an e-mail to surface. I had hoped to tire myself out with a few hours of practice, but my nervous energy took a page from Gandalf the Grey's book and came back stronger.

I also want to record Yesterday's Here, from Tom Waits' Franks Wild Years, but I'm stumped. I can't sing. Cannot. Dying frogs in buckets can carry a tune better than me - but I feel this is one that really deserves the lyrics on top of my accordion ramblings. Until I can either find a vocal track or succor an unsuspecting lyrical friend into belting it for me, you shall be bereft.