Adventures In Special Ed (And Other Friday Ramblings)

So I've been working a little bit in the past couple of days.

Don't get too excited, it's just a part-time sub job. Should last about a week. That is, unless I'm feeling brave and want to apply for the position permanently. Which might not be a bad idea, considering that I'm moving out in a couple of weeks and the rent money needs to come from somewhere. But I need to give myself another day or two with this job to know I can handle it.

Traditionally, I avoid children. I have little to no passion for the education system and very limited knowledge about how to deal with those labeled as "special ed kids." But when I got the call asking if I could spend a week hanging out with an autistic kindergarten boy for a couple of hours each day, I said "yes" because I need any means of employment I can find.

I was dreading it. My last experience with special ed involved chasing a severely retarded and extremely violent two-hundred-pound black girl down the hallway, so I wasn't exactly thrilled to do it again.

But alas, I drove my rock star butt over to the grade school yesterday morning and signed in at the front office. Next thing I knew, I was being introduced to Gabe.

Gabe is Mexican but doesn't really speak much Spanish or English. He's still in the process of being tested but they're thinking he's autistic. He likes to dance while he walks and make bizarre animal sounds. He loves high fives and coloring scribbling.

And after about an hour of cutting, gluing, playing, and reading with him, I deactivated the cynical part of my brain and decided he's adorable.

Okay, so he wasn't that adorable when he threw a big stomping fit because he didn't want to wear a coat outside. Or when he accidentally spit on me. Or when he insisted on laying under the table with his hands down his pants while the teacher was trying to read everyone a story. But most other times he was adorable. And I think he likes me. He's my new little friend.

He sits next to a little Italian kid named Jeovanny (yes, spelled just like that). Okay, he could be Arabic or even Asian for all I know. I have the hardest time telling what nationality kids are these days. Anyway, Jeovanny wears his hair all greased up in a faux hawk and has a gold chain hanging around his neck. Today he drew a picture of a stick figure with big circles on his arms. "It's a man with muscles!" he informs me.

"Is that you?" I ask (using my kid-friendly voice, of course). "Do you have muscles, Jeovanny?"
He frowns. "No, I do not have muscles, I only have bones. Someday, I have muscles."

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you America's Next Top Mob Boss.

Jeovanny also told me that he plays the drums and demonstrated with crayons on the edge of the table. "Look, I play drums!" he says, beating the crap out of two crayons.

Okay, so maybe Jeovanny made my "adorable" list today as well. *sigh* I think it was the faux hawk that did it.

I know, I know. The fact that I just used the word "adorable" to describe real live children is all a little Twilight Zone-ish. Moving on.

I got roped into getting the music together for my cousin's wedding ceremony tomorrow. It's all a bit last minute but I will do my best to go into DJ Lauren mode and get it done. If my cousin hadn't specifically specified that she liked music with "a bit of a twang" (and also if it wasn't the most important day of her life), I would totally bust out this CD I found on Amazon today while surfing for appropriate music.

Yeah...it's hair metal versions of traditional wedding music.

There. Does that make up for admitting to occasionally liking children? :P

On a completely unrelated side note, I believe this is post #91. That means post #100 is coming right up! Holy Toledo, Batman! I really should come up with something epic for #100. Any grand ideas?

Hehe. I'm sure I'll think of something. Maybe I'll make some sort of list about something mildly interesting that goes all the way to 100. Maybe I'll write a song and film myself playing it on the keytar. Or maybe I'll just do a bunch of shout-outs to all my bloggy amigos. Who knows. We'll see what happens.

And with that, I'm off like a herd of turtles. I need to figure out what I'm wearing to the wedding tomorrow (probably some sort of dress that I can wrangle audio equipment in). Then I need to meet up with my friends to stay up half the night watching b-rated horror films (yes, that is a need - bad movie nights are my favorite).

Happy Friday, amigos.

Tin Foil Hats and Boy George

Yesterday I was digging through my hard drive looking for music to play at a wedding reception tomorrow. I ended up getting distracted by a folder full of old pictures. I'm sure everyone in this tinfoil hat photo would cringe severely if they knew it was still floating around the internet, but it was too amusing to keep to myself. It was taken circa freshman year of college during some bizarre b movie appreciation night I was hosting in my dorm room (my roommate conveniently left town every weekend). I'm the one with the glasses and the brown stripey shirt (I believe that was back when my hair was still blond/mullet-esque).

I know that in reality freshman year wasn't really that long ago, but now that college is over it almost seems like a completely distant past life. Everyone is busy getting married and landing "grown-up" jobs these days.

Speaking of marriage, the big wedding I'm playing at/DJing is tomorrow. See the young guy on the far left with the goofy smile? The one in the tin foil hat? No, not the one with the toilet paper tube, that's the guy with the self-appointed nickname of "Ninja." I'm talking about the guy sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the girl who looks a bit disgruntled (ironically, that girl just got married to the boy that has another girl on his lap). Anyway, see the guy I'm talking about? He's a good friend of mine as well as one of Original Sound Trash's biggest fans. And tomorrow, he gets married to another good friend/OST super-fan. They are completely perfect for each other and I'm happy to see them get married. But it's also driving home the fact that everyone around me is growing up.

Personally, I still feel about 14 years old, so watching my friends do really adult things is really bizarro (get your mind out of the gutter, I'm talking about working full time, getting married, etc.). Maybe I'm stuck in a prolonged state of adolescence or something, but I don't think I'll be ready to do any of that "grown-up" stuff for awhile.

I heard a song yesterday that does a good job of explaining how I feel. It's a song I've heard before, but yesterday these lines really stood out to me:

should i choose a noble occupation
if i did i’d only show up late and sick
and they would stare at me with hatred
plus my only natural talent’s wasted
- "my alcoholic friends" (the dresden dolls)

Amanda Palmer, you say it better than I can.

Anyway, I should probably wrap this up before it becomes totally uninteresting. In the spirit of this weekend, I leave you a clip from "The Wedding Singer."

Hopefully Ryan and I will sound a little better than that Boy George impersonator. ;)

Happy Friday, everyone!

Audition Recap (And A Bunch Of Other Stuff Too)

Hello. Just me again. Maybe the world will slow down long enough for me to write a semi-coherent blog post. Lately, I've found myself overwhelmed by various things that all seem to be happening at once. And then there are the things that are not happening right now, which are also overwhelming. Anyway, blah blah blah, vague vague vague, whine whine, emo emo, moving on. Tonight was good. Hung out with Steve and his crew, had some good laughs and some good food. Put a lot of thoughts on hold for the evening. It was nice.

Aaaand I just realized you guys are probably still on the edge of your seats waiting to hear how my audition went on Sunday (thanks to everyone that wished me luck, btw!). Truth is, I'm still waiting for that call as well. I think the audition went well but apparently they're auditioning multiple people. They said they'll let me know if I'm in or out in a few days. I'm not going to be heartbroken or anything if they don't pick me, but I think it would be a ton of fun to play with them and I hope I make it into the band.

The Michael Cera-esque guitarist had emailed me a few recordings and told me to learn the songs for the audition. I've been learning a lot of new music lately (more on that later) but was able to play through the songs a few times and grasp onto the main riffs and chord progressions. I put on my finest indie rock and roll attire (no, it did not involve that lovely sweater), picked up the boyfriend/body guard, and headed into Portland.

The audition was in the drummer's basement. When we arrived, the guitarist and the drummer where having a drink on the front porch. The drummer was the one member of the band I hadn't met yet. I had seen her onstage with the rest of the band and was unable to tell if she was a boy or a girl. It wasn't until talking to her that I realized she's indeed a chick. She greeted Steve and I and enthusiastically and offered us some warm, old beer that she dug out from under her bed.

We sat around making awkward small talk while waiting for the bassist to get there (the bassist has long, dark hair and doesn't talk - essentially he's a younger, less creepy, slightly more attractive Silent Bob). Once the bassist arrived, we went down into the basement to play through some songs. It was your stereotypical rock and roll practice space (though definitely not as sketchy as the basement I tried out for a metal band in once upon a time...now that was a place I could have possibly died). They even had a keyboard set up for me to play. It was against my natural instinct to leave my own keyboard at home (playing on someone else's instrument is a little bit like running in someone else's shoes) but I figured their keyboard would be programmed on all the right patches.

Since they are a band that "doesn't really jam," the audition itself was short. We played through each of the songs a couple of times. Michael Cera corrected me on the riffs several times and even came over to the keyboard and showed me how to play certain parts. I started taking liberties on a song with a really repetitive chord progression and he told me that the old keyboardist didn't play it like that and that I should play what she used to play. I caught Steve's eye from across the room at this point. I could see him thinking "Uh oh, Rock Star Lauren does not like being told how to rock." It's true, it's annoying, but it was an audition. I think half of what people look for at auditions is someone who can catch on quickly, play what needs to be played, and listen to feedback. And I think I kept up with the band for the most part. It wasn't like playing with Ryan (duh) but it was a lot of fun. Their music is totally catchy and energetic. I want to become a part of it.

"Any questions for us?" says the drummer when it's all over, adjusting her baseball cap. "Anything at all? Anything you wanna know? Anything?"
I can't think of a response fast enough.
"Sorry, I'm acting like an asshole!" she says. "I'm not an asshole, but I'm acting like an asshole, but I'm really not an asshole..."

Michael Cera drinks beer and laughs. Silent Bob is silent. Steve is in the corner, probably taking notes for his next web sitcom.

Soon the whole ordeal is over and I'm back in my truck driving to the nearest Burgerville. The audition took no longer than 45 minutes (quite different than the metal band audition once upon a time - those guys were all on strange drug cocktails and wanted to play for hours and hours because they were convinced that I was the reincarnation of Dio).

Now I just wait and see what happens.

In the mean time, I'm playing at a wedding this weekend. Yes, with Original Sound Trash. It's for two really good friends, but I'm still a bit nervous about the whole thing. We're playing during the ceremony and at part of the reception. And then I'm DJing the rest of the reception. So basically I'm responsible for every scrap of music that is played the entire day. Like I said, these are two great friends of mine so I'm happy to help them out. I'm just nervous. Anxious. Original Sound Trash is not naturally a wedding band. I'm not naturally someone that gets involved in weddings.

Really, I think that if I ever choose to get married, I'm going to elope. Don't worry, I'll take lots of pictures and tag people in them as inanimate objects and random strangers so everyone can feel like they were really there!

Okay, I'm rambling. I should sleep. Yes.

Over and out, amigos.