Bullstock 2013: A Wave of Nostalgia

Before you say anything about me being behind with my campnano project, let me explain you a thing:

This is the poster I saw on Wednesday. On my lunch break, I left the library and headed to my office. I thought about the sandwich waiting for me in the mini-fridge, and the emails I had to catch up on before running back to the library for more work - and I almost kept walking when I saw this poster. It seemed like a mirage, standing as it was on a metal stand in the dirt, and I caused a minor traffic jam when I stopped on the sidewalk to examine it further.

"There's no way Owl City's coming to USF," I said, narrowing my eyes. "I must be seeing things."

But when I got back to the office, I forgot about the sandwich and emails and researched the event. And, my gosh, it was true.

And it was happening in less than two days.

Nothing says, "OMG KIM YOU'RE GRADUATING" than the impossible happening. I've been listening to Owl City since my college days, starting with my discovery of "Saltwater Room" (I had iTunes Genius to thank for that, haha). Adam's catchy music and gentle lyrics charmed me and I became a fan for life :) In 2010, I went to my first OC concert in Orlando, and again in 2011, so I never really believed that Adam would come to USF. No one comes here, haha.

Graduate school tends to keep you busy, busy enough to miss out on a lot of events, or just completely uninformed. Finding out about Bullstock was like having a bucket of icy water thrown on me: I woke up, shocked and excited about something besides my finished thesis. My fellow MFA cohorts had missed the memo too, so I knew I'd be going to the concert alone. I studied the campus map ('cause, you know, I'm chained to one building mostly) for parking options and blasted The Midsummer Station on my drive home.

I have a few OC shirts, but I chose to wear my powdery blue one that I had bought at my first concert  in 2010. As I hung it on the back of my chair, I felt nostalgic. I had come full circle, in a way.

When I had gone to the House of Blues in 2010, I was graduating from college. The cap and gown had been ordered, honors tassels on their way, and my posters needed to be peeled off the dorm walls and put away (hopefully to be used again someday). I had no idea what awaited me after college, and I remember being worried about whether or not I'd make it into graduate school to pursue creative writing. With all that going on, I had a great time at the concert - and not long after, my worries were put to rest when I found out that I had been accepted into grad school.

So fast-forward to Friday and picture me hopping out of my car, lugging a backpack because I'm coming straight from work (and it's an easy way to hang onto a water bottle, for sure). I had driven through the rain, but the top of campus was clear save for an overcast sky. I held my umbrella like a sword and set off for the The Meadows, a stretch of lawn just beyond the college dorms. With 80% humidity, I practically swam down the sidewalks and bobbed across the streets with other students as we guessed when it was safe to cross. By the time I made it there, Bullstock was already in full gear.

There were two stages, almost side by side, and a screen in the middle that had been used to project the evening's schedule and, later, the performances, so each side could watch the show, no matter what stage they stood in front of.

The stage I picked had a few hints that seemed to indicate that Owl City was playing there: extra special effect lights, a keyboard, and a line of Hoot Owls already staking their spots up against the wall.

By the time Owl City came on, night already fell and we avoided any chances of rain. Thankfully. South of Holly, Variance, and Hot Chelle Rae were all amazing bands; despite a failed crowd-surfing moment along the way, the energy in The Meadows was electric. So were my legs, haha. Afterr having been to three standing room only concerts before, my body seemed to remember what it was like to not move for a few hours... wow. A breeze rolled through every ten minutes or so, making the waiting, dancing, and waiting again much more pleasurable. And when the lights flickered on and Owl City took the stage, the crowd went wild. For the first time, I felt like USF had awakened.

Being so close to the stage meant that each song was a little hard to hear, and it took me a few seconds to figure out what song was next. The ground throbbed with the music, hands swaying, screaming filling the humid air. And once again, I noticed how much Adam has grown as a performer. He cracked jokes between songs, interacted with the audience, and even had a few funny faces ready for the more humorous songs like "Deer in the Headlights" and "I'm Coming After You." There was a least two times during the concert where I felt my heart almost drop out of my chest, haha!

And later on, I would come to find out that, at least by twitter and tumblr's testimonies, this was the first concert that Adam had ever worn a sleeveless shirt :)

What a breathtaking, impossible concert! Even two days afterward, I'm still reeling over the timing. My usual habit of writing something before an epic event didn't happen this time - I hardly had time as it was to prepare for Bullstock. But if I had the chance to say anything to Adam, it would go something like this:

No matter how it happened, thank you for coming to USF and performing. Right now, I'm at the end of a chapter, with another just on the horizon - and here you are again, just like the last time. Very surreal, but I'm happy to have made it to Bullstock. I'll continue to write my strange, whimsical stories, crawling with ocean-washed bastions, whale-song, space hotels, and abandoned ex-planets. Keep writing your inspiring, cheerful music! There's never enough Owl City music :)

On Death and Workshopping

"That's okay. It's the end of the semester, after all."

I think I said the above phrase at least twenty times last week. It's one of those things you say to soothe the people around you - kind of like saying "I'm sorry" when someone dies.

The act of speaking these words means that you've already let your shoulders sag.

This is the end of the semester and we're moving steadily to its final breath.

Tug on your seat beat. Hold onto the safety bar.

A windy afternoon

On Thursday, my professor decided that we'd spend the entirety of our three-hour class workshopping in small groups. We all brought our tentative final projects in, printing enough copies for everyone in our respective groups. 

The class I'm taking is called Illness Narrative. As you might guess from the title, we learn about all things that fall under the loose term of "illness." I've read poetry, essays, and fiction on topics ranging from the common cold to cancer, ranging from tear-jerking sadness to snorting laughter. The nice part about the class is that all of us, regardless of genre, are able to experiment with different forms and topics - something that is, for the most part, rare to do at the graduate level since you always want to put forth your best. 

I've written some weird stuff for this class. A small piece about eyelashes that, amazingly, had been published in the same semester, and two essays where I wrote about my harrowing experience at Disney with sugar-free dessert and my lifelong, though recently ending, battle with my giant pores, haha. And lastly, the short story I workshopped on Thursday. 

It's a humorous story inspired by the unit we did on the five senses. I gave my main character a heightened sense of taste, a cape-wearing nemesis, and three hairless cats. But I didn't know how to end the story. 

"I don't care where we go," said one of my group mates, "just so long as we're outside. I'm done." 

That's the end-of-the-semester-weariness talking, but we all agreed that some fresh air would be a nice change from the arctic classroom we all usually sat in. The groups all split up and we found a table in the new park, right behind the campus library. 

The park is pretty nice (though, to be honest, the space would have made a better extra row of parking - we need more parking on campus. Gads). There's a fountain that sprayed us with mist whenever the wind picked up. A girl passed out on the only swing set and fell asleep to the music pounding through her ear buds and the gentle motion of the swing. The wind found every little hole in my knit sweater. 

For the first twenty minutes, I used my hands as paperweights as we talked about our other classes, funny teaching stories, and complaining about the usual writing stuff (like lack of sleep and abundance of rejections).

Our stories were riddled with fatigue. 

"Your characters need to talk more here. Add some good puns to stick with your theme."

"Okay," I said. A pause. "Wait. Can you give me an example?"

Maybe it was the wind, or the fresh air, that made my mind so slow. I gave my group mates a drowsy smile and scratched down a few notes.

The Grand Tour 

While taking this class, I'm constantly reminded of the Death and Dying class I took back in college. At the time, I thought it was a great class to take as one of my final electives. If I wanted to be a writer, I'd only benefit from facing death head on - or, at least, in the form of a few multiple choice tests throughout a semester. 

So I took Death and Dying.  

The class was full of all different majors, people with tragic lives and people, like me, who are relatively cheerful. There were tears in during certain lessons. Every Tuesday, our professor started class with by reading us Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. During our "Death and the Media" unit, I (unsuccessfully) tried to convince the class that The Hush Sound's "Medicine Man" music video had to do with death.... and I say unsuccessful, because, for some reason, the deep and complicated story line of the video somehow went over their heads. I don't know. You tell me.

Next came the field trips. 

There was the funeral home: the tissue boxes were beautifully designed (that's how you know they were probably expensive), eagles were a common decoration for the caskets and urns, and the building was furnished, yes, with dark-wood, vintage furniture.

On the day we visited the local cemetery, a downpour of thick, blinding Florida ran ruined the trip - but we drove over there anyway, finding our professor standing in the rain under an umbrella. He told us to drive through the cemetery instead - and the only way to do that was to take the funeral procession route. Yep. Awkward.

Lastly, we got lost looking for the giant church seen from the highway that was hosting a guest speaker, talking about the stages of grief. We arrived late and had to be escorted by stern, suited men to our seats. It was strange and I felt happy that I'd never been in a place like that before then (or ever since). Whew.

It was a strange semester, haha. And yet another semester is just about to end, another one that held the theme of another bittersweet topic.

I went home after workshop, watched some Food Network shows, and dreamed about banana cream pies and bacon.  

Publication News:

There's a tiny bit of death in this piece. It's more than wonderful to start the new month off with a publication. Luna Station Quarterly released their annual drabble issue today and my drabble, "Octopus Girls," can be found inside!

For those of you who don't know, a drabble is an extremely small work of fiction, usually ranging in the 100-150 word area. I guess you could say it's like reading little pieces of candy. Whether it's bitter, sour, spicy, or comfortably sweet, the story stays on your tongue for only a moment before evaporating.

You might like this story if you:

• Only have a few seconds to read something
• Have unruly hair
• Daydream about a love affair with a handsome sailor 

By the way, for the Figgies out there: Linna Lee also had her drabble "Hold Fast" published here. It's a brilliant little piece!

As winter gets darker and colder (yay!), what are you feeling nostalgic about? If you're still in school, how are you preparing to finish out the semester? And if you have crazy hair like me and those octopus girls, whatever do you do to tame it? :)