My First...

My First Record

        Music is everything to me. If someone asked me what is the one thing I couldn't live without, it's music. Nothing makes me happier than to sing and dance, and there will always be a part of me that wishes I could have made my life all about music. Don't get me wrong, I think writing is what I'm supposed to do in life, and the truth is, singing and dancing on my own works just as well. It's a huge part of my life even though it's not my career. But still...music is my first love. 

        And that love has gotten so much bigger since learning to play the guitar, because I can now access music in a different way. I can accompany myself when singing my favorite Beatles songs, and even make my own. Although I will say, it's hard for a screenwriter to write songs. I am used to having 110 pages to tell the story. Gently, slowly unfolding, with subtext and nuances. In music, you get a couple of verses, a bridge and the chorus to tell your story. So it's all right there. Boom. Potent. Intimate. "I loved him. He didn't love me. And now I'm left crying." (Sounds like a country song actually. Maybe I'm just in the wrong genre?) 

                                            

        Back to my love for music. I wake up and roll out of bed and immediately turn on this Shamanic music which overnight guests find creepy. It's deep and dark and has a heartbeat-like bass line, but to me, it's the perfect thing to start the day with. Breathe, relax, have some tea, open the curtains and come to life.

        Once I'm awake, it's always the Beatles, although after a recent visit by my brother Ulrik, who does work in the music industry, I've found myself switching out Rubber Soul and Revolver for Swedish rap. I know. Weird. But it's fun to listen to overpriviledged Swedish kids rap about life, and it does keep me knee deep in Stockholm hipster language which I think will prove quite helpful when I go home, since I'm always teased for using 90's jargon around my family. 

    

        When I feel stressed and need to calm down I listen to Grizzly Bear. At work I listen to The Black Keys or Radiohead. A little Mumford. When I clean it's always to Stevie Wonder, because his music makes everything feel good. Even scrubbing and mopping. When I write, I have something instrumental on, otherwise I'll sing and dance instead of write. Then there are those special albums that come along and just change everything. You can't go for long without a listen, so they become your everything albums. You go to dinner with good friends and all you can think is, "how long before I can get back in my car and sing?"

        I'm obviously talking about Justin Timberlake's "The 20/20 Experience." And if you are rolling your eyes, you obviously haven't heard it. There's no other explanation. It's brought myself and Christie Hooks from Post more joy than anyone can experience in a lifetime. And a lot of office dance parties. In just under 10 days. So imagine what it can do for you. (Note: There is nothing I won't do for tickets to the JT/Jay-Z show.)

                                             

        So after this long introduction, on to my first record, which took some recognisance and research because my memory failed me. Which is a first. So the truth is, there doesn't seem to be one first record. I remember a few records in the beginning, but I don't remember which came first. I had the Sountrack to Grease (released 1979) which I loved because of the handsome Mr. Travolta on the cover, and his "why ay ay ay" in the song "Sandy." I also had the Soundtrack to Hair (1979) and knew all the words to every song even though I didn't understand what the words meant. Considering the somewhat adult lyrics and subject matter, my not knowing English was probably for the best.

        It wasn't all musicals though. I also had - or rather, my brother Ulrik had which gave me access to - the record "Tonarsdrommar" (teenage dreams) by the Swedish punk rock band Noice (1979 again.) They were just a few years older than we were, and still in school. They wrote about issues that teenagers have, and although I wasn't one yet, something about their angst touched me. Sadly, fame at such a young age changed their lives, and not for the better. After a couple of years, the music no longer had the same angst and they got into all sorts of addictions, which had two of the original band members die fairly young. 

        I will say that U2's "Out of Control" was the first time I remember feeling something really deeply about music. It came out in September of 1979 just like the albums above, so I was almost 9. I think I heard it at my Grandparent's house in Helsingborg. My Uncle Ulf is only 5 years older than I, so he was still living at home at that time, and was getting into U2. I think it was more my lingering around his bedroom door than him sitting me down and playing their songs for me. He wasn't all that interested in spending time with my brother and I back then.  

            I remember being an angry kid, and I remember hearing that they were angry, even though I didn't understand what they were singing about. I think my anger was about having divorced parents, a new step-dad, a fairly new brother, and living in Stockholm, which was far away from my Dad. I had finally started learning English that fall, but we were learning things like "Jill is skating. Bob is playing ice-hockey." (I guess winter words worked best for Swedish children.)

        So my brain wasn't equipped to deal with Bono's angry, politically charged lyrics, but they gave me solace and made me feel understood. I stuck with U2 for a long time because they were there for me when I needed them most. Seeing them live was almost like a religious experience, but then I had to brace myself for the post-concert blues that always followed. I'm still sticking with them even though these days, their lyrics aren't as potent and they seem to have lost most of that raw anger. I have too though, so I can't really complain. I guess I listen out of loyalty and to remember how I felt then. 

        To quote a Swedish band I've been listening to a lot lately, The Soundtrack of Our Lives, music really is. Every song has a memory, an era, a person connected to it. Music takes you back to happy times, sad times and in my case with U2, angry times. You hear the song and you're back there. It's like when I smell Fahrenheit on a stranger and follow them for blocks, gently sniffing without being too conspicuous, because all the cute boys wore Fahrenheit in the 80's. It still makes me crazy love sick. Instantly. 

Bjorn, me, Dalit and Benny

        ABBA reminds me of the "shows" my friend Dalit and I used put on in her living room; she was Annifrid (known in the US as "the dark-haired one") and I was Agneta ("the blonde one.") The Beatles remind me of my Mom, because that's what we would dance around to with her in the living room, U2 obviously reminds me of my Uncle Ulf and but also Richard Zamet, who serenaded me with songs from The Unforgettable Fire when we were teens in London. 

        

        When I hear Soft Cell's "Tainted Love," I start to do the dance combination my 5th grade friends and I choreographed to it. Pretty impressive considering that song doesn't lend itself to any kind of choreography. When I hear the Prince album "Sign of the Times," I think of that night my high school friends and I spent sleeping outside in a very cold Stockholm, to get tickets to see Prince live in concert.

        I learned how to roll joints with my friend Rowena Cokayne (yes, that's her last name, but no, she preferred weed) to David Bowie's "Space Oddity" in London in the 80's. I hiked up to Machu Pichu with Simon & Garfunkel. Not bad company at all. Bob Dylan makes me think of my brother Simon, who wasn't blessed with good pitch like the rest of us. But for obvious reasons, when he sings Bob Dylan, you almost can't tell.         

Bruuuuuce in Stockholm

        When I hear Springsteen's "Thunder Road," I'm back at my very first Bruce Springsteen concert at Staples Center. I had been told by my friend Ronny to listen to every Bruce album ever made to get ready, since I wasn't a huge fan at the time. I was feeling lost because I hadn't recognized any songs, when all of a sudden I heard just a few familiar chords and screamed at the top of my lungs, "IT'S THUNDER ROAD" like a crazy person. The rest is history. I've seen Bruce almost as many times now as I've seen U2. The highlight was in Stockholm on my birthday a few years ago. And we hung out with the E Street Band at the Grand Hotel after the show. 

                                                               

        I'd like to think my music taste is varied and sophisticated, but the truth is, there are some Britney songs I just can't help but love. And let's be honest, that's not sophisticated at all. I couldn't put myself in any one music box if I had to, although as my brother Ulrik said on a recent visit; "you always preferred the dark, depressing stuff..." I suppose I find depth and melancholy a bit more interesting than "happy fluffy music." 

        It would be easier to say what I don't like. I am not a fan of Country Music. Or Heavy Metal. And I guess I don't listen to a lot of Blues, Techno, New Age or Christian. And Easy Listening isn't at all to me. Jazz, I like some of the old stuff. Other than that, anything and everything goes, and by the way, I'm still catching up on all the American Music I missed out on by not growing up here. When I got here, I didn't know Crosby, Stills and Nash. Or Young for that matter.

        Thank god for my musically sophisticated friends who through the years have introduced me to the likes of Johnny Cash, Lou Reed, James Taylor, Janis Joplin, Tom Petty, Jefferson Airplane, Jimi Hendrix, Van Morrison (thank you, Joey) and many more. I can't remember who played Tupac for me, but god bless them. I would have been ok without The Beach Boys. Just saying.  

My First Month as a Scorpio

        This is a weird first. But I had a session with a new astrologer recently and found out I'm a Scorpio and not a Sagittarius as I have believed my whole life. It was so upsetting to me that I couldn't focus on anything else he said. (It was good that the session was recorded because there were a lot of valuable things discussed.) Turns out most varieties of astrology haven't taken into consideration that the earth wobbles, which causes the astrological signs to shift slightly. This doesn't affect everyone by the way, just some. I'm one of the lucky ones. 

        Now, if you're one of those people who thinks astrology is crap, (you know who you are) you should probably stop reading now. And by the way, it's not like astrology is an exact science or religion to me, but I have found it comforting and helpful that some of the ways I feel and act are outside of me, and has something to do with energies and alignments in the universe, and not with some dysfuncion or emotional shortcoming of mine. Admittedly a bit of a cop-out. 

        I've made a pretty good life for myself as a happy, optimistic, freedom loving, independent Sagittarian. I've needed to travel the world so I have and still do. Half man, half horse, always on the go. And I've been able to shrug and explain to those who wanted more than I could give in a relationship that "Sagittarius is the bachelor sign of the Zodiac..." I've been loving people up, just in shorter increments. I've been friendly. And open. 

        Scorpios on the other hand, are PRIVATE. Secretive, sensitive, mysterious and really intense, and if you wrong them, they will sting you HARD. Don't get me wrong. I love Scorpios. I really do. I have evidence in the form of a long list of boyfriends, lovers and even an ex-husband. It just isn't for me, you know? So I'm gonna be honest with you. It's been rough month being a Scorpio. Real rough.

                                                                     

        For those of you who don't know much about astrology, or the difference between Sagittarians and Scorpios, my recent dilemma is like living your whole life in Gryffindor House, with Hermoine and all the red freckled Weasleys, and then waking up one morning discovering that you really belong in Slytherin. And there's Draco Malfoy with his creepy stare in the bed next to you. So I've had to come to terms with the whole good and bad thing. Is it possible that it was bad to be good? And can it be good to be bad? 

        I had to reorganize my brain. And when I started to, I realized that I'm supposed to get along with a whole other slew of signs than when I was a Sagittarius. When I was a Sagittarian my best friends were Aquarians, Leos, Libras and Arians (never Aryans because I'm Jewish.) And now I'm supposed to have affinity for Cancer, Pisces, Virgo and Capricorn, a.k.a. "the moody crowd?" Ugh. And who are these people anyway? Because if my sign shifted, I have to work out who else's sign shifted so I can figure out who in my life I'm supposed to have a newfound affinity to. That I have perhaps avoided in the past due to astrological incompatibility.

        All this reorganizing and obsessive Sagittarius vs. Scorpio overanalytical thinking had me feeling like my brain was about to explode, which in turn had me discover that I'm actually really intense. Hm. So maybe there is something in this new diagnosis? I checked around with some Scorpio friends to see if I fit into their category of dispair and darkness. The consensus was that I was ok to be one of them, as long as I didn't send THEM to the Libra box. Turns out everyone is as comfy in their box as I am in mine. 

           And in subsequent discussions about Scorpio traits, my intensity (sexual and otherwise) and sensitivity did come up. And how obsessively private I am. I tried to defend myself by claiming my blog is so clearly the antithesis of privacy, but I was shot down quickly. "The blog is a pretense...sure, it's you sharing openly, but only what you want, and god help anyone who discusses something about your life that wasn't pre-approved by you." Yep. True Dat. Privacy is important to me. I've had entire relationships without anyone ever knowing (in most instances the gentleman in question had some knowledge.) 

        Which leads me to the next revelation. Because if you talk about my private business, or wrong me in some other way, I don't know that I'll sting you, but you will definitely be out of my life in about three seconds without the obligatory "good luck in your future endeavors" Sagittarian optimism. It's more like "I hope you have no future endeavors. But if you do, let me make it clear I will not be part of them, nor will I spend a second thinking of them." I guess that's a version of a sting.

        So now what? I have no idea. Like I said, it's been a rough month. But it's also been interesting. It's not often you learn new things about yourself, and it's not often everything you thought you were, got thrown out and replaced by a whole other set of attributes and ways of being. By the way, I'm well aware that none of this is the truth. I'm clear it doesn't really mean anything. I do find it helpful to shift the context from which I operate from time to time, so that I can see and get access to a different side of myself, and all of this provided that opportunity. That's all. 

        In conclusion, I have a lot of boxes, for myself and for others. They make me feel safe and protected. Because I know what happens in my box. (That pun really wasn't intended.) In my box I can control my destiny and that's reassuring. But I can see now that I also use my box (or boxes) as an excuse to not have to be responsible for my life. It prevents me from taking risks and leaves me too safe, even complacent at times. So this was a good way to shake things up and force myself out. (And into the crazy box, which most of my readers have probably put me in after reading this.)

        Last but not least, if you want to see what sign you REALLY are, you can go here. You'll most likely find it to be confronting at first, like I did. Or my friend Maya. She was the first one to go to the fantastic astrologer and was told she was no longer a Gemini, but instead a Taurus. She was quite adamant and stubborn (like a Taurus) that she was a Gemini, but now she can't see herself as anything but a Taurus. So, after things settle, you might find things to love about your newfound astrological self. Or not. Take what you like and leave the rest. That's what I'm doing.

My First Knit Item

        A cute young gentleman dared me to knit him a sweater a couple of months ago, after I had uncomplimented the one he was wearing a few too many times. In my defense, I was quite drunk and really just wanted him to take the sweater off, so insulting it seemed like a good option. He promised "three days of goodness" in return for a home made sweater, so the next morning I eagerly signed up for my first knitting class. Well maybe it didn't happen exactly like that. But pretty close.

        Truth is, I'm so crazy competitive that I will do anything I'm dared or challenged to do. Especially if suggested by a member of the opposite sex. And knitting has been something I've always wanted to learn, but have felt too young for. (My apologies to Ellie Schwimmer, who has given me many beautiful home made scarves over the years...)

        Someone actually tried to add "knit something" to my Forty by Forty bucket list, but I nixed it right away. It seemed so senior/geriatric/boring/lame. Not the kind of adventure I was looking for then. But now, well, now it's different. I've had plenty of adventure, and perhaps it's time to settle down a bit. And be the kind of person who doesn't throw themselves out of a plane, into a boxing ring or dance at Jumbo's Clown Room, but the kind of person who knits things. 

        Like my grandmother (who perhaps not so coincidentally became a grandmother when she was the age I am now. Oy.)  Being forced into those itchy matching sweaters she knitted my entire childhood didn't exactly inspire me to pick up knitting needles, so maybe that was also part of my earlier disinterest. And having had a somewhat itchy childhood, can I really subject someone I know to wear my creations? 

Marla, Sule, Zoe and friends...

        But there I was, eager to move away from the past and learn something new, because learning is important and fun to me, and it's been a while since I took on a new hobby. I arrived at Zoe Zeynep on Melrose for my Beginner's Knitting class and met Sule, a beautiful and fun Turkish woman who designs, knits and crochets pieces for some very cool and well known designers while running the knitting store, named for her sweet tween daughter, Zoe. 

        I was excited to find that I was the only student there, because it meant one-on-one instruction. And also, I could safely become the teacher's pet without alienating fellow knitting students. My teacher, Marla, gave me purple needles and a ball of yarn and I quickly learned how to cast on. Casting on is that first row that starts everything and it's important to make sure you get the width right for what you're making. 

        Next was the basic knit stitch and after Marla showed me, my hands just naturally started doing it. I was knitting, comfortably and quite fast I might add. Maybe it's hereditary? There was a lot of "oohing" and "aahing" over my knit stitch. And I was asked if I'd like to move on to the purl stitch, way ahead of schedule. I wasn't surprised. After all, my perfectionist, competitive, driven personality is as helpful when it comes to physical activities as it is detrimental to my personal life. I've gotten used to it by now and gladly take the victories where they are given, meaning, I'll happily become an expert knitter at the cost of a fulfilling love life. Because at the end of the day, I'll have a scarf, or a knit cap, or even a sweater in my little Swedish hands. Yay me!

        The purl knit was no challenge for MacKnit, which was the nickname I gave to myself quietly while knitting away at the store. After a while of the purl, I was offered the more advanced garter stitch, but declined because I didn't like the look of it, although its name might imply I would. But other than that, I was the hit of the store, of the day, and Marla even said I might be the best student she's ever had. 

        In light of all that, it was time to pick yarn and start knitting my first actual item, so I looked at all the yarn in the store before settling on one in (fifty) shades of grey. It would have been just like me to go from never having knit anything to tackling a sweater, but I'm trying to be less intense and driven, so I decided to start slow and easy with a scarf. Recipient TBD. I opted for a cable knit, which is two knit stitches and two pearl stitches alternating. It's actually not as easy as it sounds because the stitches are quite different, so it's harder to get into a rhythm than if you were just doing the same stitch over and over. 

A rare photo because the couches are usually occupied by knitters...

        I sat and knitted there for a while after my official class was over, because that's what people do. There are comfy couches and good music, so people come and knit when they have free time or if they get stuck and need help. And people who wander in to buy yarn, end up staying and knitting for hours because everyone is so friendly, supportive and encouraging.

        I went home and did fairly well on my own for a couple of days, but then I made a mistake, and since I didn't know how to fix it, I went back and learned how to fix mistakes. The more I knitted, the faster and better I got, and everytime I dropped into the store, I would get compliments over how nice and even my stitches were. (Of course I did.)

        I knitted my way through a weekend course, I knitted in front of the TV and at the car wash. I knitted in a director's chair in between takes on set, which reminded me of my days working on Friends, where Creator/Executive Producer Marta Kauffman started a knitting craze among the crew and cast, having decided that down time on set was a good opportunity to create something other than a fantastic sitcom. So it turns out it's a good "Hollywood Hobbie."

           At first I was dragging my yarn and the start of my scarf around in a paper bag, but after some discussion about the proper "carrying your knit work" etiquette at the store, I found a retired purse big enough in my closet, which became my knitting bag. I know. It's official. 

        With the risk of sounding old-fashioned, knitting has been quite soothing and relaxing. It takes whatever extra energy I have...and I have a lot...and channels it into the scarf. (Note to scarf recipient: Sorry about the abundance of energy woven into the scarf.) Also, it gives me something other than playing guitar to counteract the cramps I get from writing, and exercise my fingers a bit. And being part of the knitting community is really cool. No, it's not. I can't write that with a straight face. But I do love it, even if it makes me a dork.  

        All of a sudden, the moment I had been waiting for came. I had felt like no matter how much I knit, that ball of yarn wasn't getting any smaller, so when I finally got to the end I was really surprised. And a bit sad actually. My scarf, which had become a security blanket of sorts, was done. Well not completely done, because I needed to go back to the store and learn how to finish it off, so I left a bit of yarn at the end. I dragged this part out a bit, like I usually do when something is nearing the end and I'm not quite ready to say goodbye.

Me, my scarf and Marla...

        When I was ready, I went back to the store and was greeted with love and enthusiasm for both myself and my scarf. It was a quick bind off that finished up my first knit item. And that was that. I'm happy to have stumbled upon this creative pastime, and definitely ready to move on to my next creation. With some new knitting needles that set me back about ten dollars. Turns out knitting is a very inexpensive hobbie. Do it. It's awesome. 

        Oh, and I got some really soft yarn for the sweater. I hope he likes pink...