Is this gauche? it's not really advertising...

My friend, Carrot, is trying to raise money for their book-writing adventure on kickstarter. They've written a train hopping novella is astounding-- not only is it a million times better than 'off the map' and other punk traveling stories, but it's a million times better than any other travel narrative out there. It's right up there with "Miles From Nowhere."

Carrot's writing lodged itself in my heart with this, one of the most heart stoppingly evocative, hopeful, wonderous piece of writing out there. Seriously, this is why writing is so fucking important.

You can pour your heart and hope into these words that remain after the feeling has passed, after you've sunk back into the regular drudgery of life. You don't need to be an inspiring magical conjurer all the time, and it would be pretty insuffereable if you were, but if you can figure out how to pin down that feeling of elation and hope and belief in possibility, then you've done it. Maybe it doesn't work on you anymore, but it's a charm out there in the world. I am also such a sucker for 2nd person narration, but only when it's memoir-y.

Here is a link to Carrot's kickstarter. I know that no one really reads this blog, but please donate if you can. I promise it's worth it.

back to olympia! pancakes at midnight!

my nail polish is cracking off and i'm leaving for the airport at 4:30. i'm Horovitz-late, which means I won't actually get anything done that needed to happen, namely bidding tearful goodbyes to ridiculously beloved friends. I'm a fickle beast, and now i think I could make a cozy little hole for myself here. Ten minutes back home and I'll either be terribly homesick or will have totally forgotten I'd ever left. I had an omelet for breakfast and all this dairy I've been eating has made my throat so sore and I'm also getting fatter. I'll wait til I get home to detoxify myself.


my unfunny new years resolution is to lighten up and start doing all of the things i used to do that were fun and stupid and bad for me.

this is a mixtape that i made for jean that is indubitably like me at 14, 15, 16 and not very much like me now. I was all caught up in the 4am feelings, and nothing could shake it save the sober morning light. I'm sending it anyway, on principle.

SIDE NUMBER ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE ONE
1. Lyn Taitt- Soul Food
2. Pavement- Here
3. Sonic Youth- Tuff Gnarl
4. Unwound- No Tech!
5. 311- Prisoner
6. Thee Headcoatees- Ce Plan Pour Moi
7. Jonathan Richman- Give Paris One More Chance
8. Palace Brothers- I Send my Love to You
9. Herman Dune- These Arms of Mine
10. Velvet Underground- I'll be Your Mirror
SIDE NUMBER TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO TWO
1. Woody Allen- Lost Generation
2. Telephone- Le Vadou
3. Dictators- Sleeping With the TV on
4. Xray Spex- Germ Free Adolescence
5. Lee Ronaldo- The Bridge
6. Smog- Rock Bottom Riser
7. LCD Soundsystem- New York I Love You, But You're Bringing me Down
8. The Smiths- How Soon is Now?


i'm in new york and my mom is out of the hospital. I sewed a handkerchief this evening. I'm feeling really guilty about going out, so I haven't really hung out with anyone. Maybe I will go out tomorrow night. Brandon called me on Christmas when He, Hallie, Craig and Emily were watching movies at our house. It made me homesick. I'm feeling a bit lonely and bummed out as well. I'm eating brunch with Ollie and Uncle Sol tomorrow, and then to the MoMA with Colleen. Perhaps we will call Drummer and pretend it's Olympia.


It's time for this little sourpuss to get off the internet and curl up with a lovely book before bedtime. happy 2:45 am.

Nice times in Olympia

As you might easily have guessed from my miserable attitude just 5 days ago, things are obviously alright. I've been working at old school, and hanging out with this guy. Today, I trained as a cook, which is cool, since being a cashier isn't all its chalked up to be. Tonight, I plan on taking a long walk, reading a book and watching Paris, Je T'aime and hanging out with that guy.
Tomorrow, I will work at KRS in the morning, learn more about pizza making in the early afternoon, and anything after that is too far in the future to be planned.


But....................the important thing is that I am a happy little clam at the moment, and that I have bought a plane ticket to Minneapolis for 12:55am on July 28th. It was a stupid flight to chose, but I'm a poor decision maker, so now I will begin convincing myself that it'll be exciting to hang around the airport at night.



I also embroidered a charming little dude on the back of my t-shirt last night, as I was waiting around to get sleepy. I plan to scatter more little embroidered dudes on the rest of my clothes, which is why my plans now include a trip to someplace that sells embroidery thread.

40 hours of travel, not enough naps

I arrived in Olympia on the afternoon of June 10th, and there were sunshowers, which felt pretty epic and important. I immediately hopped on the wrong bus and was almost whisked away to some shitty place where my house is not at. Luckily, the crisis was averted and yours truly was saved. So I scoped out the house and dropped off my suitcase, got take out from saigon rendezvouz and hopped on the greyhound. On the bus, I grappled with such supremely mindblowing questions as:

Do people around me know that this is fake meat I am eating?
Wouldn't it be cool to get matching tetris tattoos with someone you're pretty keen on?
Why am I going to Los Angeles?
Should I just get off in Portland and hang?
Have I drank enough water?
Have I drank enough soda?
Do my feet smell?
I smell really bad, don't I?

Obviously, this sharp little mind of mine has no trouble grappling with truly pressing issues and concerns, even when sitting on a greyhound for 25 hours, listening to a skipping cd player and reading David Foster Wallace,who, by the way, is an out-and-out genius as far as I'm concerned, mostly because of his epic and poignant footnotes. I wish I knew how to make footnotes on the internet, as this would have been a good opportunity for an homage.

An exciting story from my vacation, actually two, and both from last night:

1. As Allison and I drove towards downtown Los Angeles, on the freeway, the car began to slow down. As I was not at the wheel, and have little idea as to how cars actually do what they do, I assumed this was on purpose. Sadly, I was wrong, and we had actually run out of gas. I also had to pee. We decided to hop out of the car and look for a gas station. We asked the first car we found, asking directions from a woman who didn't speak english, and her 10-year old son. We started walking, when all of a sudden, they pulled up, asking if we wanted a bottle of gasoline. Long story short, this awesome family totally went out of their way to lend us a hand and helped us siphon gas into a car pulled over on the shoulder of a busy freeway. I fell desperately in love, not like that's uncommon. Also, throughout all this, Allison and I looked remarkably like prostitutes, as we stood on the corner wearing dresses, trying to ignore the cars that slowed down and asked if we needed a lift.

2. The second time I fell in love was at Amoeba, where the clerk in a slayer shirt was a total babe who talked about Jonathan Richman, and instead of holding a conversation about Massachusetts, and potentially asking what on earth people actually DO in Los Angeles, I didn't. Also, in retrospect, I have absolutely no idea if he was really a babe or not, which is obviously arbitrary anyway, since he complimented my purchases, and was into Jonathan Richman and Slayer. So, duh.


My suntan is still a sunburn, but it'll fade. I'm bussing it back to Olympia tomorrow, with my darling bicycle this time. Woot Woot!