Just shoot me

I was in Paris last weekend.  You wouldn't know that from reading this blog.  I'm going to Budapest this weekend.  You also would not know that from reading this blog.

I am not going to talk about that now, though.  I plan on doing a blog later that reflects on my travels as a whole.  Get excited.

Followers of this blog will know of my troubles with my camera this semester.  I am here, writing this blog, at this moment, as a proud owner of a working camera.  I just ran out to buy one at the camera store down the block from my apartment.  It is interesting buying a camera--or anything, really--with a language barrier.  There's the suspicion that the workers are talking about you in their native tongue, or trying to use your ignorance to their advantage and get you go for all the bells and whistles without you realizing it.  My experience was not like this, however.  I reaped the unexpected benefit of a language barrier--they cannot sweet talk you into something much more expensive.  I just got the least expensive one there, and they were cool with that, hoping for the exchange to be over soon.

I believe that the reason I was in this camera situation to begin with is a manifestation of Karmic retribution in the technology age.  Though I am pro-progress (uh that sounds awkward, sorry) I do have qualms with technology.  We are buying into the philosophy to get new things just because they are new.  There is no longer sentiment attached to our possessions.  We upgrade simply because we can.  I did this with my old camera, my bulky, 4 AA battery needing, very small display, slightly chipped silver exterior Cannon.  I did this only because a sexy new Nikon came along with a sleek rechargeable battery and beautiful display screen.  The Nikon failing, then, was the price I paid for rejecting the old, for the sole reason that it was old.

And I have stepped off my soapbox.  Whether that is truly an insane interpretation of what happened to my camera, and I think it might be, I am grateful to have this absurdly pink Samsung and I'm hoping it is good to me for the rest of this trip.  In any event, it's going to be a while before I am able to trust Nikon again.

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

Welcome to my music-related blog post.

Friday evening meant a trip to the opera here which was even more beautiful than pictures can capture.  We were way up in the nosebleed section, which is even more of a nosebleed section because this theater is more vertically oriented than horizontally oriented.  The opera we saw was Mozart's Don Giovanni which just happened to have premiered at the Estates Theater.  This theater and this opera are especially significant to the Amadeus enthusiasts among us (anyone?  anyone?  just me?  don't be shy) as the operas were filmed at this theater.  I could almost see F. Murray Abraham being moody in one of the boxes to the left of me.  Don Giovanni is also quite an important opera to the story of the film. 

Don Giovanni also played an unlikely role in my upbringing.  My father sang a lullaby to me at bedtime when I was little, one which he insisted he made up.  He was quite proud of this.  It was only until listening to a classical music station later that he realized he had been ripping off Mozart all this time-- tune-wise, the lyrics were all his own.  This tune actually came from Don Giovanni, and it was quite lovely to hear it performed by professionals, in the place where it was performed for the first time to the public.

Segue alert: I'm listening to the Beatles as I write this blog post for inspiration.  Emily has been visiting for the weekend, plus a few days, and we've been doing some sightseeing.  On Sunday we went to the Czech Museum of Music which currently is home to an extremely awesome Beatles exhibit.  The exhibit features your run-of-the-mill Beatles facts, which you can really learn anywhere, but are still interesting to read about.  What interested me most was the Czech Republic's (really, Czechoslovakia's relationship to the Beatles).  It was fascinating to read about the rejection of the "long hairs" (you guessed it, people with long hair), the censorship of rock music, the fact that young people in Czechoslovakia were always behind on the latest Beatles music, because of this censorship.  Really, I am not doing the information justice.  I would like to say that it is so enlightening to see something familiar, i.e. The Beatles, through a completely unfamiliar lens, i.e. 1960s Czechoslovakia.  Also, fun fact-- Paul McCartney is the only Beatle to actually perform in the Czech Republic.

In My Ears and In My Eyes

A poet at the first ever poetry slam I went to observed that although Starbucks is "evil" there is a bit of comfort in the fact that they are everywhere.  Even when you are far from home, you are sure to find a Starbucks.  Down the street from my apartment in Prague is a McDonald's.  It's so big and brash, and often quite crowded.  Though McDonald's leans toward "evil" there is something comforting about knowing that I can get the same meal down the block from my apartment in Prague that I can somewhere in New Orleans or New York.

My Czech roommate just cooed "Strawberry Fields Forever" as the song came on on her laptop.  The Beatles have the same affect as fast food restaurants, it seems.  Wherever you go, you can never be too far from someone who has at least five Beatles' songs committed to memory.  They are greatness accepted the world over.  I think I prefer the ubiquity of The Beatles over fast food restaurants, I must admit.

Architectural Quirk

The doorknobs are higher here than they are back home.  But only sometimes.

I touched the top of my right arm the other day and discovered a bruise.  I had no recollection of getting this bruise.  It was only until I walked to the kitchen in the dark that my memory was refreshed.  The high doorknobs are just below shoulder level to me and now I have two neat little bruises on my upper arm.  Part of adjusting to Prague is to learn to avoid walking into doorknobs.

First World Problems

Don't you hate when you're studying abroad for a semester in Prague and you realize once you get there that your camera is broken?

That's one of the last pictures my little Nikon took.  It did work on the airplane, as you can see from this view out the plane window onto Queens/Long Island.  I suppose my camera is just extra homesick and does not want to take any pictures of this foreign land.  The lens just won't come out.  This city is just so photogenic, and I've been having a good time, so it would be nice to capture my time here.  Plus, when there is a bunch of film students in a group together there are sure to be some really nice cameras.  And I can't even get my point and shoot Nikon to work.  I hate that this happened, but I also hate complaining about it when I have so much to be grateful for.


It's fair to say I have not yet got a complete grasp on my alarm clock.  For the first couple of days I woke up before it went off.  Yesterday, I did not need an alarm clock.  I believe I have woken up to it once or twice so far.  Today, I apparently did not set it properly as it did not go off at 7:30 as I intended.  I woke up to the sound of my roommate's phone at 8:45.  Too bad class was at 9.  Definitely was not going to make it to that class.  My semester wasn't off to the best start, but I'm hoping things will look up.  The class that I did actually make it to was Feature Screenwriting, which was a required one, so kind of important I make it there.

Here's to a semester in which I do not oversleep and miss any more classes!