Need tea. Must study.

(From what I've learned as a tired barista)

Espresso: Cold, sleepless nights and too many thoughts matched with too little words to express them. Silver rings that clink against ceramic cups and leather journals that have started bending and fraying after constant trips in bags. One too many college emails and not enough from lovers, friends. Text messages with periods.

Americano: Burnt fingertips against a to-go and cold hands otherwise. It's justifiable -- helps to push them to move pencils against paper, strike keys on a worn-down piano on the commute to class. Baggy, cozy sweatshirts chosen over rows of formal wear in the closet -- but they still look just as sharp. Convincing yourself that a sleepless night is worth an easier month.

Caffè Latte: Yearning for comfort in a busy, blocked-in schedule. Hunting for a balance between reward over hard work and keeping with the demands of one too many classes they regret taking. Playlists upon playlists, some they forget about only to dig up later and sit with. Discomfort and disappointment in how quickly things change -- fashion, interests, hobbies they're just starting to good at -- but pushing through nonetheless.

Caramel Macchiato: Calm and practiced effort when taking on the night shift, trudging through the day to get to the peace and quiet of night. Padded headphones, an extra robe or blanket, and an unlit candle between stacks of papers -- all things to get to, but none quite sorted. Daggers framed on the walls, sharp enough to have left a small scab on their hand. Respect and divinity in all they touch and write and experience.

Flat White: Tik-tak sounds against keyboards, quick finger-cracks snuck in between paragraphs to keep going. Warm, crunchy pastries after a long day -- every crumb swept up by fingertips and discarded onto the plate. Ceilings lit up by phone notifications, stained shoelaces, and analytical eyes over articles upon articles -- people upon people.

Caffè Mocha: Lingering smells from the night before, not quite washed away by a morning shower. Still trying to figure out how exactly they should be balancing their classes -- it's the end of the first semester. They're running late but their friends know them -- bring them a coffee they couldn't get to or remind them of a lab they're missing.

White Chocolate Mocha: Classics snapped closed because they just aren't as good as the latest fiction they had their hands on. Going step-by-step, pausing even after a whirlwind of events to sort everything out and look ahead. Excitement in prom or social events -- counting down the days until the next holiday or test or party.

like, what other song can make that claim?

The crowd cheering after the first stanza when they realize what they’re all doing

So many people audibly ‘doing the guitar parts’… like ya do

The sheer number of voices joining the rediculous falsetto (thanks, Roger)

How they all start jumping at the ramp-up “so you think you can stomp me”

There’s good reason why, nearly fifty years after the height of their career, Queen is still considered one of the best bands of all time ever.

Okay. You’re back? Welcome back. Unless you’re a trained singer, you probably can’t do it. There are too many long notes, too many key changes, and too many places where–if you’re singing all the parts–you’re just up and down the scale too damned fast. I’m saying this as a trained singer and I can’t do it. I always crack on “magnifico” and “leave me to die,” and I have a pretty decent range, but I know I sound ugly as hell on that final coda.

Okay. Now that we’ve established that, I want to talk a little about singing as a chorus. One of the things a lot of people learned during the pandemic is how hard it is to take twenty people, all in different places, and stitch them together to make a single coherent song with perfect pitch and timing. You’re all practicing on slightly your own tempo, slightly your own key, even if you’re all working from the same base track. (You can see this in a lot of the Wellerman compilations from Tiktok, where someone always says “Soon” a moment before everyone else on “soon may the Wellerman come.”) When you have a chorus comprised of many smaller choruses that are all traveling to be together, this is what dress rehearsal is for–to get all of you onto the same tempo so you’re starting and finishing at exactly the same time. This is a thing that normally only happens after at least several days of practice, and it is an important skill that must be taught. You’re not just born knowing how to do this.

I do not know how many people at that Green Day concert were trained singers. But I do know there is no way in hell all few thousand of them were a single group–they showed up a few at a time, maybe even flying solo for the night. Now go and listen to the video again. Listen to the ends of verses and the pickups. They’re fucking crisp as hell. Everyone is starting and ending at the same place. Not even a single note off. (And yes, you can hear when it’s a single note off, even in a crowd that big. A handful of people would be enough to throw it off.) And while a few in the crowd may be off-key, so many more are on-key that the cumulative effect is of the song being on-key. This isn’t even the band they’re there to see.

They don’t just know this song, this technically-difficult song, this long and complex song by a completely different band. They know it perfectly. They know it down to the fucking note. They know it so well that they did it in perfect synchrony, without a single chance to practice.

she lays an idea egg every day whether you use it or not

Day 32/340

It is a different feeling indeed, holding oneself accountable and moving forward.

Life doesn’t deal with absolutes and while it may be transient, holds infinite number of pathways of getting somewhere. 

You might be slow, but sure enough shall reach your destination if you have a heart full of conviction. 

Slowly but surely I’m learning to love the unique circumstances I find myself in.

Instead of falling in the abysmal pit of sorrow of not “getting it”, I am moving my mindset to “Ok, I’m learning it”.

Instead if drinking the ambrosia of escapism, I’m learning to “eat the frog”.  

Small steps everyday. 

28 may 2021

7/04/21