"What's this? Tits?" -A. A.

To do list, in no particular order:

a. write Sterling's art school reference letter by Feb. 1
b. email Geoff to find out when he's coming back to the lab
c. run over the paper draft (again) with Mikhail and Kalina
d. buy a book for someone and give it to them
e. give Sterling his present (this will probably have to wait until the weekend)
f. straighten out the pay situation with the Materials Science admin
g. email UCSF to make sure they got Bertrand's recommendation
h. mail Maria her CD once I get her address

I am writing this list on the blog instead of in my planner as I usually (sporadically) do because when I grabbed my planner from my backpack (i. order new backpack to replace old one which has 2 gradually-enlarging holes at the bottom) I remembered it was for 2007. That made me chuckle a little bit.

The Vienna trip was great. I got to meet Jess' family (except Flannery, who was in Germany and whose bed I borrowed for the night) and Thom's mother who may or may not work for the CIA. I liked Jess' father particularly; it's easy to see where she got her capacity for intellectual observations and obsessions. On the way to the Des Ark show we listened to the new Marissa Nadler (who played before Thom's old band Little Wooden Men once in Vermont, although it was at some bizarre backward/sadistic venue where the headliners played first(!?)) album. We took the Metro across DC to get to the show, which was in St. Steven's Episcopalian Church in Columbia Heights. We missed the first band, but arrived just before Bella Fea (unsure of spelling; can't find on Google to confirm. A shame; they were really very good) started; they kicked it with a tight, jagged post-punk power trio attack.

Vijay and his roommates Ian and Alex showed up after Bella Fea's set. Then Des Ark played, and thankfully Aimee Argote had brought her drummer Ashley, so they played a mostly-electric set (not to say I don't like acoustic sets, but I knew their band sets were a spectacle to behold), and while it was somewhat haphazard--Aimee was plagued by borderline wardrobe malfunctions and a locked hand--they were still one of the most energetic bands I've ever seen. And the technique--there's no way anyone could convince me I'm anything less than an above-decent guitar player, but many of Aimee's riffs I could only hope to pull off with total concentration, much less while singing and ricocheting from one end of a ring of DC scenesters (there was no stage; they played on the church floor) to the other. That is, if I could even write them in the first place.

But the real surprise came when Ashley sat out and Aimee pulled out an acoustic tenor guitar: she told everyone in the church to sit on the floor and shut up (and good Lord, did some of those kids need to shut up, not to mention take a shower), which nearly everyone did. Then she proceeded to turn the set on its head and play a stunningly delicate, affecting acoustic micro-set. I've never seen anyone choke up singing their own songs. I was annoyed by one of the kids who remained standing at the edge of the crowd and smirked his way through these few songs; sure, smirks are an occupational hazard of taking oneself as seriously as Aimee was obviously doing, but when someone's doing that good a job of it, I feel one should try to have respect. Then they finished with one last electric song. And I left with an olive green Des Ark shirt (j. pay Jess back the $10 she spotted me for the shirt).

Then we all went to a bar where Alex's friend worked and stood in the back room by the pool table drinking Old Chubs and downing sweet potato fries. In all a good night.

Now I should probably go take care of what items from a. through j. I can. It would be easier to get through them if the people I'm supposed to be working with were around. I'll take care of the emails first, even though I really dislike writing them.

(k. get a new planner)