Saturday, September 27, 2003
Listening to the Dandy Warhols makes me happy.
Finding new CDs which I want to purchase also makes me happy. I laboriously tracked down some of the music stores on campus (i.e. I asked Thomas. There's an accent on that name but I ain't on my Mac, so I haven't a clue how to make accents). Anywho. Found some CDs I want to buy, made myself a handy little list, need to go see if these places actually have this music. Sigh. I know that, no matter what, they're not going to hold a candle to Newbury Comics, but I can hope they're at least half-decent.
The reason I'm not on my Mac right now is that I'm in Southfield at my Bubbie's house. And therefore on her non-Mac computer. It's rather strange to see a curved screen after getting so used to the flatscreen. Everything looks distorted. And the keyboard seems unnaturally raised.
Er. Yes. I'm here because it's Rosh Hashana (that being New Years for all you goyim out there). I went to temple today. Interesting experience. The service was a bit longer than what I'm used to, but it wasn't too bad. The cantor... oy. Hmm. I suppose I had sort of taken Cantor Aaronson back home for granted... that man can sing like you wouldn't believe. I don't know if he could sing, say, N'Sync or Limp Bizkit, but he can sing the prayers and such very well.
This cantor, I was told, is a very, very nice man. And I'm certain that he is. That said, the man could not sing to save his life. His voice was sort of warble-y and unfortunately pitched. Agonising to listen to, really.
So, everyone back home who goes to my temple (that being my family and Jess) should go up to Cantor Aaronson and shake his hand and tell him that they are very, very, very lucky to have him.
There was also a choir, which I am very not used to. They were OK, but that's not the point. I'm just not used to hearing a choir in a synagogue. The rest of the service was pretty uneventful.
We had our big Rosh Hashana dinner last night. It was a pretty good time. The food was glorious and abundant, and seemed even more ambrosial (if that's possible) because of the vast quantities of faux-food I'd been eating on campus. It was a pretty good crowd... me, my Bubbie, my uncle Chuck presiding, my uncle Al, aunt Suzi, and cousins Sam and Joe... and some friends of my Bubbie, including one guy who's an interior designer and went to Pratt. He was quite fun to talk to.
That said, of course I terribly missed the Newton crew. They called after dinner, and I could hear them all screaming and laughing and such. They all sang 'Hail to the Victors' very loudly into the phone. The dinner conversations on my end were rather interesting and very pleasant, but nothing compares to the annual 'Who's gay?' discussions in Newton. Twice annually, actually, with Rosh Hashana and Passover.
So yes, good times out here, but I do rather miss the Massachusetts Rosh Hashana scene.
Even so, it's almost obscenely nice to sleep in a big, non-lofted bed, in a room by myself, with my own bathroom, and no one screaming through the halls at 3 am. Or coming in at 3 am with guests. Or coming in at 3 am and turning on the TV. And real food. Real food is good.
I missed the Indiana game, but Caroline emailed me to let me know how it was, and it seems I wasn't missing too much. A lot of people are home this weekend, either because of Rosh Hashana or just for the heck of it, and I guess the crowd was pretty sedate. Plus there were rather a lot of unfortunate Michigan turnovers early on. But we won anyways, 31-17 I think, and that's the main thing.
That is all. I should probably go to bed if I want to wake up at a reasonable hour on the morrow. Yes. Delicious, uninterrupted, solitary slumber.