In the airport (and i'm fucking b-o-r-e-d!)

My flight to Minneapolis doesn't take off until 12:55. I wasted $6.50 on sushi that I couldn't eat and then wasn't allowed to get a refund. What kind of crazy moron puts eggs in vegetarian sushi????????!!!!!!

i guess i should have asked to read the ingredients...

I bought a copy of allure magazine, and realized that I'm not the target audience. I don't want to highlight my hair, and I have little faith in the ability of lipstick to radically alter either my looks or my outlook on life. I am so sleepy, which means that I am so cranky, but I can't board my stupid plane for 45 more stupid minutes and I bet I will never find a nice boy to make eyes at ever again in my whole entire life for the rest of eternity.

what the heck fest, and my dreams for the future

while the rest of the world jetted between 77boardrums and pitchfork and ibeza, I made it to what the heck fest on friday night--no one would cover my shift on saturday night, and i am broke, so it was a one night stand for sure, but it was fun and hot and I don't regret a thing. I would have taken more pictures, but I am shy about using digital cameras unless I am drunk, so here's this one:
Of all of the nights to stay, I like to tell myself that I lucked out. Whether or not this is just a self congratulatory analysis of the circumstance, I was able to see some lovely music, and all for $5, incidentally.


Bobby Birdman
I think that he is such a babe, plus he's got such a crooning voice ANNNNDDDDD he is not playing solo any more, so that was cool. and i haven't seen him play since that econ major totally fucked up his set my sophmore year and matt and lincoln were heckling.

Lloyd & Michael
Kate from Dear Nora is in this band, and it was ever better than I expected. I was sitting with a bunch of freshly met and friendly individuals, and the music was so cozy, and there was free tea and coffee, so it all added up pretty well.

Mecca Normal
I always thought I really detested Mecca Normal, but I was lying to myself I guess, because it turns out that I don't. My plan to sit in the park and write letters, drink soda and eat candy was cut short by the jarring absence of chic-o-stix from the 7-11 and more importantly, the fucking rain. I am glad that I did not make a stubborn decision, because instead of sitting outside in the rain sulking, I realized I have a new band to like AND I stayed warm and dry.

Calvin Johnson
Sang a really funny song about a movie theatre.

The Blow
Totally bummed me out. I think I was getting pretty cranky by the time she went on, but everytime I felt like dancing, the feeling left me, and I wanted to reach for my cane and snap at the ankles of all the young whippersnappers flailing all around me. There were a couple of boys who kept holding their hands up like Parenthesis during that song, and it was much more infuriating than it should have been. My expectations were pretty high for the night, since last year I danced so hard that I had to nap in the car afterwards, as I'd worn myself out.

Dennis Driscoll
Makes my heart melt.
------this guy was a sailor who had just shipped into anacortes, who was wondering why there were so many hip kids milling around. we met him as we walked past a book store talking about harry potter, and he said "did you say something about stealing harry potter?" and then lifted up his shirt.
-------------
So, post-Heck Fest, I was dropped off at the pizzeria and began my shift, which totally sucked because of lake fair. I was getting a serious contact high from all the baked teenagers who couldn't make up their minds, and then there were snotty little brats skipping the line to tell me they had to pee and needed the bathroom key. After work, I met up with that guy, who was bummed out, and I managed to convince myself that I probably had a lot of feelings for him, an opinion which I have now amended and hope to never return to, as I think he's a moody jerk and he doesn't like me anyway. well, perhaps not a jerk, but moody and inconsiderate. and he doesn't care for me, just calls me up when he's bummed out.

so yeah, i went from total awesome weekend, straight back into bummed about boys. i think the perfect solution would be to stop thinking about boys, but they are literally everywhere (except women and trans night at the bike shop, and probably ladies night at mccoys), and it seems that I have morphed into a horny twelve year old1.

I AM MOVING ON FRIDAY THANK GOD.


1 This sort of relates to a conversation recently had regarding the heart-melting way that teenage couples hook onto one another like octopus (octopuses? octopi???).

look at these photographs

This is the charming dude that I embroidered on the back of my tshirt. he is about 2 inches across and dead center.













This guy on the right is simply a gratuitous photograph of my cluttered room, and is also meant to show off the records i bought at a yard sale for $.25 each (john lee hooker! edith piaf! ancient country recordings!!!!!!).














this is my filthy room. i am a slob and it's just something you're going to have to deal with if you actually care about me. if i had my druthers, i would while away the rest of my days at yardsales, picking through piles of cast off junk and convincing myself that I really need another old thermos, cat painting or pair of gingham overall shorts.

here are two of the books that i have made so far, shown with a photograph of a chimpanzee playing roughly with a bear cub.

I am doing well, which is cool. I mean, not RIDICULOUSLY well, but I'm happy little thing still, so that's alright. I've dealt with easier things than figuring out how I feel about all this boy trouble, but I've also dealt with more difficult situations, and since I am a grown up, I will continue to take this all in stride, with only momentary lapses into moping around.

the important news in my life is that i am moving out of my coffin room, and into a lovely house with brandon and craig. brandon and i are arranging a brilliant bike ride to seattle, which will obviously rule. there is no use providing details here, as i doubt that my meager reader base includes anyone within a trillion miles of olympia.

I am going to a dance party tonight, and am decked out in a new pair of shorts, although without a mirror, I cannot tell if I look like your mom at the beach, or a hottie with a body. Luckily, I don't care at all, and am just hoping that I will not be too scared to join in the dancing.

I like living in Olympia, WA because it is pretty and warm and the people are really great and there are not many of them, so it is easy to feel very popular and in the know, as it is impossible to avoid running into them all at once.


i am listening to evan dando, predictably, and he is still a total babe.

i just got dumped. this is great and i feel like a complete asshole.

if you're reading my life on the internet, you should leave a comment.

Look, to keep things on a positive note, I've been reading a lot of craft blogs. you know, on the world wide web. These blogs, on top of the regular dorky vegan cooking blogs I usually read, are really blowing my mind as to the totally brilliant and awesome things that people are doing in the world. for instance, had you ever thought of crocheting a squid? or cross stitching princess toadstool onto the sleeve of your dress shirt?

I've been making some pathetic attempts to emulate the crafting genius that lives on the internet, and so far, I'm falling pretty short. My Woody Allen embroidery is messy and not very convincing, and my funny little doodle embroideries pale in comparison to the epic portraiture of the interweb.

so yeah. I'm going to see if I can get some of the books I've made consigned at dumpster values. I went on a jog this morning and rode my bike up the hill twice. I've been feeling really weird about some things, so I'm trying to tire myself out and keep my mind off of things I'm better off not dwelling on. I think I'm going to see Spider and The Webs play with Sex Vid tonight. Whatever, Who Cares, this is SUMMER VACATION.



bummer, though, man. I miss hanging out with friends. Don't forget about me if you're out there, reading this in cyberspace. I've also got an actual, real life couch that I'd love for you to snuggle up on if you feel like paying me a visit*.


*offer only extended to actual friends and not any old person who stumbles over here.

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.

On a more positive note, I absolutely and emphatically cannot WAIT to get the dave longstreth/black flag tribute album! I think it is going to seriously RULE.

Terribly Homesick

I have settled into my mini-room in Olympia. I am ridiculously and pathetically homesick. If you happen to be on my extensive list of mail-recipients (and I don't know why anyone who didn't know me would read this), you can look forward to receiving a whiny and depressing letter, detailing my limited experiences so far. Some of the highlights including :

walking to and from downtown a few times a day.
wondering if people notice that I'm always walking to and from downtown.
chastising myself for wondering if people are noticing me.
wondering if people think I'm a weirdo for walking around so much.

It's the sort of beautiful cycle of thought that only occurs when one spends immense amounts of time alone and without aims or goals. Perhaps, as any number of people have told me in the months leading up to this move, Olympia was not the best possible destination. It is too early to tell, but it's on my mind. I've also found myself overly concerned with "bothering" people, which has so far translated into not getting in touch with anyone I knew last summer, and having my feelings hurt that my house was not demolished in a mad rush of people trying to hang out with me. So, in the end, I know I'm being pretty ridiculous and more than a little self-centered, as well as quite impatient and unrealistic. But still.

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!