badrabbyt - music

bait and switch

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Thu, 10 May 2007 01:45:00 -0700

so, now that i've dropped the trifecta of butt on y'all, i have a new one to add: i got a horrific grade on my lecture exam. and by horrific, i mean, less than passing. yeah. and i have another test next week. on the kidneys. did i mention that our instructor, when he's not instructing us, is a kidney research specialist? yeah.

it's gonna suck, i tell you. but still, i feel like i could maybe pull a decent grade. you know, out of my ass or something.

so! instead of dwelling on the crud in the botton of the coffee cup that is my life, i will instead talk about the music i bought today to console myself on my... well, bad luck and unfortunate studying skills. oh, and i'll be talking about a few books i've read recently. you know, when i probably should have been studying.

(mutters to self about not having studied more and all that)

now, i haven't listened to all of these, so i don't have a complete review. but, it's what i recently accquired.

i don't know how void your soul has to be before you hate the temptations. does that make sense? i don't know that i mentioned this, but when i went to visit my parents, we watched a few movies (they have the netflix, because they live next to the middle of nowhere). we saw man of the year, which is a pretty good movie - i'd vote for robin williams for president, anyway. and we saw the temptations, which was totally fascinating. it started in high school, and went all the way to, uh, whenever that one guy died. the guy that sang bass. sorry, but his name escapes me. oh! melvin franklin. i think. anyway, it was a great movie that i had never heard of. and, like i said, fascinating. go see it, or rather, go rent it. the music's great, too.

i, uh.... okay. i own show your bones, which is the most recent yeah yeah yeahs album (it's the one they play on the radio. sometimes). and i was told that this one was also pretty good. i have no idea, because i haven't listened to it just yet. show your bones gets old after playing it a bunch of times, so i'm going to try not to do that with this one. but who knows? it may suck. that's why i bought it for the great price of $6. i love the used cd store.

i'm not even going to explain this. but man... how did i get this far in life without owning any parliament? i mean, really. i bought a greatest hits, and this one. that cover cracks me up. it's not like i've never heard these songs before. i just don't have a cd or anything. that's all i mean. yeah, it's a trinket. but hey - it's a funky trinket.

oh, i almost bought a copy of james brown's hell album, but it wasn't used. i have... uh... rules about these kinds of things.

so! i own a tape of the the, i think. which means it's in a box in the garage. and i picked this one up because i'd never seen it before. it wasn't until i got to work tonight that i noticed it's a the the tribute album to the work of hank williams, sr. i haven't heard this one yet, either. but... well, it promises to be interesting. more news as events develop, and all that.

finally (yeah, there's five pictures and six cd's - i told y'all i bought two parliament discs), we have this. which made the guy at the music shop pause. i mean, i'm buying all this other music that kind of clicks together. sorta. shush. and then he sees carole king's tapestry. not the coolest album, i grant you. but, my mom owned it when i was a wee bunny, and i have memories of her singing along to it, and picking me up and dancing to it. since those are the only memories i have of my mom actually touching me (another intimacy issue, anyone?), i think of them fondly. and it's kind of an emotion i'm buying with this one. yeah, there's all that liberated-women stuff that goes along with the lyrics, and i'm happy to agree with that. but i didn't buy it because of that. i bought it because i can still hear my mom singing, off-key and badly, to "i feel the earth move".

oh, and if you've got a few hours to spare? try pandora. seriously, only click that when you have the speakers on, and at least two hours available. it's a music thing. you give them one band. say, uh, the pogues. they do that thing - if you love the pogues, you'll totally rock out to blah blah blah. it's addictive. i saw this thing on current tv about pandora forever ago. and i keep forgetting to talk about it here. man, it's totally crack. no lie. a few hours, easy.

now, books.

okay, the dude won the nobel prize for this book. i know he's writing in portugese and all, but could he maybe learn some sentense structure? those run-ons, while they probably add to the fluidity of the story for some, left me with a headache. i woulda finished it a week sooner if he had employed some periods. and i get the fable aspect, and the parable factors. but.... well. i'll totally read his other books, but i'm not sure that i'd recommend this one. sorry, but it's true.

this made me hungry. seriously. this writer takes time off from being a writer to work in a kitchen under mario batali. he's talking about all this great italian food, and how it's made. he even goes to this little town where mario learned pasta to... uh... learn pasta. i liked it, but i like all of that one guy anthony bourdain's books, too. just don't read this if you're on a diet.

and i read this one a while ago, but i still liked it. she wrote this other book, that was meant to empower women. and it left me wanting to puke. but anyway, this one's about her childhood. and she's a good writer. and, if you read it on public transport, people are going to look at you funny because you're laughing out loud. and you can totally guess where i took that picture from, eh?

okay, that's enough of that. go read something, and go listen to something. or someone. thanks for stopping by.

for no good reason

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Mon, 09 Apr 2007 02:50:00 -0700

so, hiya, how ya doing? i'm pretty okay. working mostly by myself again. man, i don't know if the plague is going around, or i'm feeling tired and put upon. but when i got to work tonight, i started getting this... uh... twinge behind my left eye. like, i'm-gonna-rip-your-eye-socket-apart, kind of twinging. usually, that precludes a headache. if i'm really unlucky, a migrane. so far, it's just making my scalp itch.

here's the thing about my schedule. i work sunday through thursday nights, doing ze graveyard shift. well, somebody has to, and for a long time this was my version of hiding from the really real world. now i'm plotting my escape (which i briefly discussed with the midwife earlier, and she thinks my plans is great and callous), but i'm getting ahead of myself. so, usually, my week ends at 7 a.m. - aka, the asscrack of the day for some of you's - on friday. and i get to have friday and saturday off, to return to work sunday night. if you do the math, you'll notice that, technically, i only get one complete day (saturday) away from work. and while my job is not difficult, i do enjoy having a complete calendar day where i don't have to show up at the hospital. so, working this past friday night made me bitter. i didn't get my one full day. which doesn't affect y'all in the slightest. but there it is.

and now that eye socket pain is working itself into my spine. nice.

i don't know why, but this cracks me up. yes, i know - i could be retarded or something. but... well, just scroll down when you get there. the spelling gives me a headache, but i'm sure it's part of their charm or whatever.

so! i did go see amadan (i link because i care), and fistful of cash, and my life in black and white. and... i forgot two things. one - i didn't bring my digital dinosaur. crap. two - i forgot my earplugs. which means that my ears are still a bit ring-y. now, i have a bone to pick with some people that were there. first - why the hell were there only 15 people (yes, i counted - i love those guys) there for fistful of cash? do the rest of you not realize how absolutely badass those guys and girl are? punk covers of johnny cash songs? dude! anyway, not many people were there for them, and it makes me snippy. y'all seemed to know when exactly my life in black and white hit the stage, because there were exponentially more folks on hand for that.

i did think it was amusing that we - meaning captain clydesdale and i - stood in the same spot for, like, three songs before we realized we were standing in front of three guys from amadan. because we're oblivious and classy like that. i'm just going to pretent they were staring at my ass.

and of course, there were an assload of folks there for amadan. and... okay, i missed a memo or something. because, like, a bunch of guys walked by the stage to smack their bass player on the ass. or they were grabbing big handfulls of his heinie. it must be a guy thing. only really secure men can grope rock stars that do darth vader impressions. is that it? anyway, it was... odd. but! those guys were so amped and ready to rock. we stood at the side of the stage for a few songs, to aviod the throng and maybe save our ears a bit of damage. so, we had the back end view - five boy butts lined up:

see? crappe picture, from the crap camera phone. blur on the left is the back end of the bass player, lighter blur on the right is banjo/ spoons/whistle player. yes, he really plays spoons. it's fabulous. anyway, they were so revved up - two guys broke strings on the first song. that's raw power.

during their one-song encore, they had the house lights up. and this was the best i could do. i'm not mad that i forgot my camera. i tried taking pictures of yarn on sunday morning, to make a joke about my fiber habit, and i couldn't see what was going on. my camera has one of those little screens on the back, that show you what you're looking at? it was completely black the whole time. and when i used the viewfinder to take my pictures? ass ass assy shots. so... i figure that extra day i just worked bought me a new digital camera. thank christ.

and hey - the captain pointed this out to me, and he's totally right. their temporary fiddle player? he looks like this:

almost exactly. scary little wood sprite. bring back naoyuki! we love naoyuki!

now for the random photos:

in the bar portion of the berbati's (yes, the fiddle playing wood nymph in a place called berbati's pan - the irony or whatever is not lost on me), where we saw the musics, they have drawings on the walls. and four of them were rabbits! good ones. i had the urge to write down the artist's name and have them draw bunnies all over the rabbyt hutch. i don't care if no one else approves.

what? WHAT? did you say something, o hairless one? you know that's what's going on here.

yeah, that's what i though. just lie there are pretend to sleep. i'll still be here, stealing your soul between spontaneous naps.

finally -

thinking about making this my little author photo up there. does anyone have any thoughts?

i have more to say, and more photos, but i seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties. the little computer weasels are chewing on power cords or something. thanks for stopping by.

get on up

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Mon, 25 Dec 2006 05:15:54 -0800

james brown died this morning. the world is a less funky place without him.

drink some wine

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Wed, 13 Dec 2006 03:35:00 -0800

so... i'm back. no applause, please. i'm not in full form just yet.

okay, i was thinking about this band i used to really have a crush on. calm down, i'm not about to talk about the secret crush or anything (does he[you] know who he[you] is[are]? should i stop calling it a secret, because i tell everyone his[your] real name? argh). when i first moved here, forever ago, i kind of fell in love with this band called king black acid. they were real super cool. but before them, i had other love affairs with portland music.

first, i saw room 101. and they must have fallen off the face of the earth, because no one seems to remember them. i saw them at the ash street(still there, love that place), then later at a place called the medicine hat (the building's still there, but i think it's an art gallery now. harumph), which had a very groovy sort of feel to it. i kinda expected jerry garcia to float out of the wall or something. good music, though, despite the odd hippie vibe.

i'm not real pro-hippie. i don't know if that shows.

then there was a fling with the american girls, but then i found out they were already broken up and semi-scattered, which led me to the crush and other criminals (i mean that in a nice way) later. i still don't really know why; i mean, they were really fabulous and, er, shiny. there are a few 6-degree connections between me and those guys at this point, but i'm not going into that. i love their music, even if there's no more of it coming.

the same night i first laid eyes on room 101, i saw a band called 6 minute heartstop, and they had all this crazy energy. i don't mean new-age energy. i mean, they had too much coffee or something. or their music had too much coffee. whatever. they are super hard to google, by the way. the last i heard, they were recording something for rise records. but that was 2001. i then saw them play at the blackbird (building's still there, venue is kaput). i think i saw that chick from the swans there, also. but that wasn't the same night. anyway, the night 6 minute hearstop played, they were surrounded by a ferw other bands that seemed to not know the difference between 'sing' and 'scream'. oh, well.

i was going to talk about king black acid, originally. and that's a different link, by the way. i only saw them play a handful of times. the first time was at dante's. i seem to recall their singer's arm being broken, but that could be a memory lapse. anyway, i know their name sounds like they're some kind of acid-induced thing, but really, no. maybe you'll love them more on acid. they had this great sound that filled the room. i don't mean that they were loud. i mean, their music was all the room had space for. it was like living in a soundtrack or something. yeah, i sound like i'm on drugs. but check them out. one of my two all-time favorite local songs is 'into the sun'. it's just great.

my other local favorite involves toast. he knows what i'm talking about.

oh! and assisted living! they used to have a website. but i can't find it anymore. they rock, and it's been forever since i've had the chance to see them do their thing. that sean norton, he has an ear. the ex-mister used to do sound-guy music stuff with him, and every album he puts his hands on is crack for the ears. anyway, assisted living. they're kinda hard rock-ish, but they have great melodies and lyrics. i hope they play again before i die.

and if you ever get the chance, go see sweety. i've seen them a few times, and they were worth the drunken assholes every time.

now, dr theopolis. i don't understand how someone can live in this town and not know who these guys are. so, you get no help from me there.

of course, there's jasemine. she's lovely. and sestina, in case you all think i just love boy bands or something.

don't get me (or the capt) started on amadan. if you ever need to lose, like 10 lbs in one night, go see them at kells. there are soooo many people packed in that little room, you're bound to lose part of your ass. besides, i really have to love a band that covers the pogues and the ramones in one night. in one halloween weekend night. in one night where they dressed like kells waiters, and people thought they were actually waiters. that was when being a pirate was all the shit (thanks to johnny depp's swaggering ass), and there were all these drunk jack sparrows asking the digeridoo player for another whisky. i also saw a three-way almost happen near the bar. apparently, when you're drunk, you don't know where you are!

basically, it's like this: i'm terrified of microphones. i can dance (and have bellydanced) in front of complete strangers. i can amuse small groups of people with my stupidity. i can kinda sing, and i can sorta play guitar. i can beat some drums pretty okay, i've been told. can i do any of this near a microphone. NO. i can't get up on the stage and be the rock star, so i might as well be enthusiastic about the folks who can. and, i ask you, what the fuck are they putting in the water in anchorage, alaska? i just realized a few days ago i know, like, five people from the burbs of anchorage that are fabulously talented musicians. all amazing. jesus - i think i need to go terrorize the boys in alaska. maybe they'll be wooed by my knitted socks. i could start a cult...

um, no.

anyway, i have much love going for the folks that participate in the local music. there are so many, and i can't name more names, as much as i want to (remember, i kinda am being stalked), but in general, y'all are fabulous. if any of you have time between groupies to read this.

thanks for listening to me. now, go listen to them.

what's not to love?

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Thu, 24 Aug 2006 03:00:00 -0700

first, i have to say - i have this screen that tells me all this cool and groovy stuff about my little blog here. it tells me how many visitors per month, that sort of thing. and over 50 people have come back! yay! settle down, have a cupcake.

if you missed it, i said i was gonna make cupcakes a while back. i just got around to it this most recent saturday. only want one?

i'm an evil wench, i tell ya. there are none left. yummm. they were vanilla buttermilk. and they were, if i may say so myself, the shit... yes, i knit, i cook, i bake, i speak more than one language, and i'm a firm believer in the use of profanity. i'm like your grandmother, but with tourette's.

moving right along, i've been working my patootie off. yes, it's been 12-hour shifts and such pretty much since friday night. so, about an hour before i get to go home, i get damn loopy. and sometimes, like tonight, i sit here and smolder. i missed one of the bestest shows wednesday night, because i had to do this here overtime thingy. and i totally could have gone. the band i wanted to see was supposed to hit stage at 9 p.m. so, i coulda made it to work on time. but, at the magic hour? i was sitting at a desk, with my headphones on so as not to annoy or be annoyed. oh well. i betcha they play again. they have a myspace page and everything - those guys are serious. play again soon, darling!

i have this thing about words. earlier, the aged lush was adjusting her girlie bits (BOOBS), and i said she was realigning her brassier. someone else laughed and said they haven't heard that word in forever. i think we need to bring back words that don't get used often. for the next week, we all need to use the words brassier, tuckus, and broughaha. if there really are 50 of you - and not just one guy checking back 50 times (hi, cecil), we can totally do this. okay, go!

so, not long ago, i was illustrating my dork points (they're like marlboro miles, except when you try to mail them somewhere, you get bupkus). but i was telling cecil recently that i was a dork and a jerk. which makes me a, what? jork? derk? i like jork better. it sounds less like a guy's name. and he laughed so hard his drink came out his nose. apparently, i'm quite funny in person. who woulda thunk it? so, there's another fabulous word to throw about at your next cocktail party.

hey, guess what? if you post a comment, i sometimes respond. i bring this up because tony (dude, do you want a nickname?) posted a comment about how i didn't talk about my boy scout patches and the cool, fabulous (and short) guy that gave them to me. whatever, tony, you knew that was coming. you KNOW all the cool kids are short of stature. anyway, i posted a comment back - see? told ya i was a dork - about how i was gonna wait til i had pictures of the patches on the boy scout shirt, then tell about meeting him and receiving said patches. since i haven't brought it up yet, you can bet they haven't seen that sewing needle. but i feel bad about not mentioning that i actually met someone i met in the internet. and... okay, you know what? it sucked, but not because he was weird or anything. no, he was fabulous. really! the suck was all on me. if you read my blog, chances are you've heard my best stories. and you know a great deal about me. whereas i know jack about y'all. so, i'm sitting there, and the poor guy has to do most of the talking. because, like i said, he already knows all this stuff about me because he reads it here. and since it's on the internet it must be true... remember what i said earlier about loopy? it's starting early tonight. man, who needs drugs? just overwork yourself in a building that smells funny. same rush. anyway... where was i? oh, yeah. so, i felt kinda dumb, because i wasn't sure what to say. this happens of its own accord sometimes anyway - cecil and the secret crush can surely give me an amen there - but at that moment, i felt like someone stole my tongue.

so...uh, yeah. i'll be talking 'bout those patches when they make it on my shirt. and i don't want everyone in the big wide web to think i just run off willy-nilly and meet complete stangers (anymore). i don't think i mentioned this to tony, but he was totally being watched to make sure he didn't lunge at me with a fork or something.

hey! if anyone watched the news wednesday night, what the hell happened? there was an explosion at my hospital, and no one has told anyone what the holy christ happened. i'm guessing a suspicious package was blown up. because i don't think the assisted suicide laws here in oregon allow terminal patients to be exploded.

speaking of assisted suicide (attention span of a beaver right now, i tell ya), assisted living has a new cd out. go get it, it's fabulous. and by the way, why doesn't everyone love the fun lovin' criminals? and don't give me that i-don't-like-rap-or-hiphop crap. expand your horizons. come on - they have that great song called 'scooby snacks'. they're awesome, and i can't say enough good stuff about them. go buy some at everyday music. and if you don't like it, send it to me. you missed my birthday anyway. seriously, i don't get how some people seem to stick to one specific type of music. like, people who only listen to country, or gansta rap (is that even a genre?), or butt rock. by the way, def leppard and journey are playing together at the clark county anphitheater next weekend, and there are still tickets available. hot shit! impress your lady, guys! anyway, music. i just bought this cd by a lass named jasemine star. she plays guitar and, apparently, a sitar. anyway, it's like nothing else i own, and i kinda dig it. TAKE A CHANCE. me, i like everything about music. what's not to like? except country, unfortunately. the closest i will ever get is johnny cash. the new stuff? can't stand it. oh, and the new ben harper is also the shit.

okay, getting long winded and i still have more picture to share. like this.

those are raw chicken feet. at the grocery store near my house. when did they start selling these? they look like little hands! i stared long and hard at these. yes, i know they sell them at restaurants. i've tried them - all i can say is, just don't. and this. it was wrong on so many levels. i did not come prepared.

i have a new gnome in the works. he looks a bit like the travelocity gnome.

and he's the size of a regular ole pepsi.

socks that are handmade are happy socks! see? it's smiling!

this is my party hat. it has pom poms on it. i'm so fucking cheerful. thanks for stopping by. don't forget your homework.

come to the dork side

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Tue, 15 Aug 2006 03:10:00 -0700

mmm... guess what kind of person i've been since my last post? hey, you're right! a fucking dork! i am dork. hear me roar.

first, if anyone's interested - z dog's surgery went well. there was a possibility that his dad was gonna show up at the hospital, to, you know, wish him well and all that. so, z dog's hopes were way up in the ether. he loves his dad, for some weird reason - the man does not deserve it. anyway, the dad of course did not show up, and z dog was plenty upset. he did cheer up when he got to call his friends and inform them that he'd had ball surgery. that's what he's been saying: "i can't ride bikes with you. i just had surgery on my balls." it just sounds bizarre. and he's since stopped asking me about surgery in general, and surgery on private bits in particular. like i said, any time i bring up ovaries - "my own set of balls," as i refer to them whenever i have to refer to them - he starts rocking back and forth.

oh! i did get to see blitzen trapper play the towne lounge friday night. this was after briefly visiting the bite of oregon, and having less than kind things to say about the experience. man, did the bite bite. it normally does not, i should add. but, alas. anyway, blitzen trapper - fabulous. before them was a group from ashland called schroder. they were great. instead of three guitars, which seems to be the norm in some circles, these guys had a bass player, and two violins. and they were rocking those violins. it was hot shit. plus, their cd was only 5$. they were pimping the hell out of it, so they could afford gas money to go home. then, the parson red heads played. now, i normally don't care what the band wears when they're onstage. but these guys were all in white, like they were gonna be baptized. and the singer was so close to the mike, we thought he was about to fellate. and blitzen trapper was awesome. why they're not world famous, i don't know.

and... i finally got my transcripts to go from one college to another. some of you may recall there was an issue involving a delinquient library account that i never signed up for. it's all cleared up, and college A offered to mail my transcripts to college B, so they would be ultra-official and everything. which saved me driving over there, so i said okay. hopefully next week, i can sign up for my classes. i did find out that the radiology program is its own full-time job. classes are 8-4, monday through friday. which means i can do two of these three things - study, sleep, or work. there's a possibility that i can not work while i go to school, but i won't know about that for sure for quite a while. but keep your fingers crossed for me, or do a happy dance, or whatever. personally, i like that idea. i've been working since i was 14; i think i need two years off. but we'll see.

now, my dork points:

dork point one - i tried for the longest time to not talk about the impending trip to vegas. and then, when i thought it was a done deal, i gave in and mentioned it. BRIEFLY. which now means that we probably won't go. the trip is in z's name, and it looks like she may not be able to get the time off. plus, she's rambling about school clothes and health insurance. so, that's what i get for getting excited about something. christ.

dork point two - i think i've managed to annoy the secret crush. on thursday, i had the fabulous opportunity to do my bellydancing thing in public, which has only happened three times since i've started with this class. but i ended up with about two hours to kill, and an internet connection. so, i sent this message to a few friends - varied forms of hi, thinking of you, being a jerk and sending you an email because i know you get email notifications on your cell phone. junk like that. with the exception of the secret crush, all have written back telling me i'm a dork. perhaps, but at the time, i was a dork in shiny gear. anyway - told you i had it on good authority, yeah? so, perhaps the crush is trying to ignore me, like i'm a rash. or maybe he's just camping.

dork point three - i have conversations with my cat. she's... well... special. but when i get home in the morning, she does this short-bus thing. my bedroom door is adjacent to the door that leads to the washer and dryer, and further to the garage. where she has been locked - by accident, i've been told - overnight on a few occasions. when i go to my room, i close the door, but i leave it cracked so she can come and go. because if she can't get in or out, she freaks out. and that's not really sleep-inducing. anyway, she meows at the garage door. like it's important. like her ass is on fire, and getting at the garage is the water that will put her out. and it's LOUD. it the same tone of voice she uses in december when she gets locked outside. so i talk to her, to get her to shut up. but now i think that she thinks i'm behind the garage door, because she still jumps when i stick my head out of my own damn door. so, there's that. and i laughed my ass off on sunday when she fell of her blanket on the bed (she was goin' to town cleaning her naughty bits, and her equibrilium just went apeshit) AND when she fell off one of the lawn chairs in the backyard (she's just an uncoordinated goober). cats always land on their feet, my ass. whoever said that has not met ophelia.

dork point four - and this is only because the four males i've told this to have told me this is retarded and dorky. i did a boob exam on myself recently. MEDICAL NOTE: you should all be doing boob checks or nut checks once every other month. and guys can so get breast cancer. anyway, i found not just one lump, but a little party of lumps. so, i called cecil - who knows boobs - and asked for a second opinion. he groped them, and said that there were at least three on the right side. great. now, this in itself is not dorky. lumps can mean many things. what's dorky is what i said when cecil asked me if i was going to have them removed: "actually, i'd love to have a breast reduction." he stared at me like i'd just said "i think our president is smart." apparently, 'reduction' is one of the stupidest things a girl can say. but really - one side is noticeably bigger than the other, and now there are lumps. i have one of those exciting girlie appointments coming up, so i'll know more then.

finally, dork point five - there are no pictures in this post. just lots of meandering.

i should be renamed dork vader. but thanks for reading anyway.

schiesse!

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Fri, 04 Aug 2006 04:05:00 -0700

my german spelling is shite, but that's suppposed to be 'shit' in german. because... remember that thing i mentioned, about missing really good music because of work or other? it happened again, thursday night! although, i totally could have gone, had i known sooner. i totally need the internet at my house. or i need to go to the library when they're open, and there aren't a thousand high-school students overloading the myspace server. jesus...

and, eddie izzard needs to do something in this country again. preferrably, within 12-24 hours of portland, oregon.

enemies of the garage sale

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Fri, 26 May 2006 03:35:00 -0700

sometimes... the best sentences in the universe happen when you're talking about stalkers. the midwife was telling me about some psycho-related incident revolving around her neighborhood watch group (to hear her tell it, she's at ground zero of methtown), and i was telling her about the savage stalking me, and another guy who just couldn't leave me alone. anyway, she had a neighborhhod garage sale not long ago, and i referred to her psycho stalker as an enemy of the garage sale. it was a riot at the time.

mmm, so! apparently, there are a select few people wo know what the hell i'm talking about when i mention sifl & olly. i mean, it was the best thing ever! ever, i say! it was on mtv in the extremely late '90s, and it was a show about puppets putting on a cable access show. except it was waaaaaay cooler than i'm making it sound. at the time, i hung out with three other females almost constantly (hey, it kept the beatings from the savage at an insanely low level). since there are four characters on the show, we each took the name of one. i was chester, because i can do this killer impression of him (it?). they've got some nice sound clips here, or at least they did at one point. someone tell me they saw this show. it was truly fabulous.

i've added a movie thingy over there, to talk smack about the movies i watch. i seem to love horrible, cheesy movies. i think freud would say that this means i'm a horrible, cheesy woman (shut up, cecil. i can hear you). but largely because i mentioned that puppet master movie, which is apparently a franchise. anyway, i wrote the entire blurb on the back of the box (the one that made me lose my shit) over there. i do watch non-cheese flicks, but the ones that stick with me usually do so because of a heightened level of bizarre. hm, go figure.

i did bleach z dog's hair. he's a small phillipino kid with nearly black hair. and it went from that to this blond redhead thing. originally, he wanted green stripes, and i've done stripes in my hair, so this task was relegated to the 'auntie' zone. z and i have decided that anything that could possibly get him into trouble or corrupt him falls into my domain as co-parent and official non-related relative. anyway, apparently the green has been recalled (WTF, manic panic people?), so he decided to bleach his entire head. which meant me and him, in the bathroom, with the bleaching kit. i did ask him, as i was mixing the bleach, why he didn't just get blue and yellow. z dog said he didn't like either color. i then had to point out, "you know, mr art-class-is-my-favorite, yellow and blue make green." there was a moment of silence as he grinned at me. then we fucked with his follicles. he had a school concert yesterday afternoon, and i have to say that he was a lot easier to spot with the lighter locks. of course, his neon green clarinet doesn't hurt.

once he stands still, i'll have pictures. and once i remember to upload the snaps i already have, there will be more pictures.

finally - captured by robots is playing berbati's sunday night. i will be there before i sprint off to work, but people! if you live in the portland area, get off your duff and go watch the evil genuis at work! and don't tell me you'll miss the freak mountain ramblers. don't they play every damn sunday at the laurelthirst? you can miss one show.

darwin is my homeboy

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Fri, 28 Apr 2006 02:15:00 -0700

remember when it seemed like an assload of people were wearing shirts that said "jesus is my homeboy"? i know that's supposed to be cool and hip with the religion stuff, but i think it looks goofy. i saw a guy with one of these shirts today, and we ended up having this bizarre conversation about pascal's wager - it's a philosophy thing, you just wouldn't understand. okay, no, maybe you would. see, this guy blaise pascal - i think that's his first name - wrote this essay where he talks about the existence of god. if i'm boring you, please feel free to molest yourself, kick the gnome, or skip ahead. but you just might learn something. anyway, pascal. he said that people should live like they believe in an afterlife, and having to account for the things they did while alive. as i typed that, i thought of patrick hughes' talking about the residents of dick house. check his blog link over there for more (disgusting) information. wow, i'm easily derailed here. okay, pascal broke it down like this. if you believe in god, and do all the good shit you're supposed to, if he does exist you get to go to heaven. which sounds like a library in some ultra-rich neighborhood. if you believe, and he doesn't exist, you lose nothing by being kind and living a virtuous life. if you don't believe, and he doesn't exist, at least you won't burn for eternity. and finally, if you don't believe, and he does exist, you sure as shit got some splaining to do there, lucy. that's the short version. it's a really interesting essay, no matter how crappy i make it sound. anyway, the "jesus is my homeboy" guy was saying that pascal was being really flippant about god and religion by writing the essay. but i don't see it. he put a lot of thought into that essay. i said it was like a child's drawing of god. yeah, it's probably not accurate - unless the kid was like me and handed in a blank page - but someone put a lot of work into it, and who the fuck are you to call it crap? so, that's what you get when you see a guy wearing that shirt, and you sigh and say - out loud, apparently - "what would pascal do?"

speaking of jesus and all, i was led astray. the pole dancing class i took was not actually a pole dancing class. instead, it was a three-hour thingy where we learned a sexy little dance to the tune of "let's get it on." man, i love marvin gaye. we get there, and first the gal offers z some wine. i felt bad for her, because she's all sober and shit, but she loves wine. she said no, which was a good thing. i would have hated to wrestle her to the ground right there at the studio. then the nice lady offers us heels - the aforementioned stripper heels. we could try them for the class, we could buy them, whatever. i tried on a pair and was instantly uncomfortable. i could just visualize my spine becoming more fucked up than it already is, adding the exciting element of swayback - i'm telling you, that's what wearing heels will do to you. i've seen it. they were very cool, but i declined to dance in them or buy them. one of the other girls tried to sell me on the heels, and i said that i already had a pair of not-quite-strippers at home, and i was just fine in my socks, thank you. although i was the only one that went without for the entire class. z had a pair on during the last 20 minutes or so, and i just had to laugh. i was the shortest person in the room by at least five inches. but the class was fun, and it did allow me to call in sick. i was a bit sore after messing about on a hardwood floor, and i felt justified telling my boss "i don't feel well, and i'm walking a bit oddly." who knows what she now thinks i do in my free time, but anyway. my quadriceps hurt (tops of the thighs, if you're curious), and my knees are bruised. let's see you drop to your knees more than twice and not have marks. i remember thinking, as we're learning this sexy little dance "for you and your partner!" (sheesh, i've never felt more single), this would totally not work on a carpeted floor. rug-fucking-burns, to which the instructor admitted she'd never done the dance at home. oooo, that's a good avertisement. it was fun, i don't regret it (unless i'm walking up the stairs), and i'd do it again. maybe.

i'm having a bit of a "single white female" moment. ever see that movie? not scary, but creepy. anyway, i was talking to this lady i work with - let's call her the aged lush, she'd love that - and she was saying that she noticed if i said or did something, the nontherapist would co-opt it for her own. if i start using a certain phrase, within a week she's using it. my homepage on yahoo looked a certain way, and i was trying to show her how to add bookmarks. the next day, her homepage had the same theme as mine. around st patrick's day, the nontherapist put red and black streaks in her hair. this was the same weekend i chopped all my hair off, which got rid of my black stripes and a healthy chunk of the red. she was pretty bummed when she saw that my hair was different, and she made some joke about wanting to be twins. it creeps me out. she creeps me out. and i've tried to be nice to her. i tried to be her friend, but that just didn't work out for me. her physical presence makes me uncomfortable. i guess she told the aged lush that she was moving to my neighborhood, which is further creepy. when the lush told me - do you really think people who work in hospitals actually work? why else is the cost of healthcare so damn high? - i told her about how the nontherapist was giving out my name and phone number as a personal reference on rental applications. i've never given her my phone number, or my permission to give it out. i only found out because two of them called me to actually get said personal reference. i declined to give one, and the next time i saw her at work, i asked her if she was putting me down on her applications. she said, "oh, i meant to tell you..." you meant to tell me? maybe you should ask me, that works better. anyway, i know this is all petty garbage. i see her 40+ hours each week, so this crap adds up. i swear, someday i'm going to drag her up to the helicopter pad and chuck her. i just have to build up my arms so i can drag her. she's much bigger than i am.

oh! oh! oh! that guy from amadan! okay, his name is eric, and i saw him play on tuesday. i was only minorly disappointed to learn that he doesn't have any original songs - he does stuff from his band, which he wrote, or covers of other bands' music. but it was still way cool to see him play. it made me realize that the stage at kells is tiny at best. it looked tiny with just him on it, and his six-person band wedges themselves up there. it's like a physics trick - they're folding space and rocking out. and i think his dad was there. not that that means anything. i would have seen him play thursday night, but apparently i took a nap. after dirty dancing wednesday night - pretty close to where i think my secret crush lives, sigh - i promptly fell asleep. so i woke up at, like, 6:30am. and stayed up. a little weird for me, but i did watch some tv, which always makes me feel better. like, on the DIY network, they had a hour dedicated to the fine art of scrapbooking. i so don't get that. the whole scrapbook thing. it's just not for me. and it's not like the old-school cable access craft shows, where someone's mom crochets a blanket. this woman had special guests with "fun and fabulous" ways to jazz up your craft. these people are whacked out. i know - this is totally the pot calling the kettle black. i knit like a mad fiend, but i'm not sure i'm in the same ballpark as these ladies. they were all my mom's age or older - so, in their 50s - and they were all exhibiting some degrees of obesssive-compulsive disorders. i just wonder what their husbands and kids think of all the scrapbooking, not to mention all the various devices needed to make cuts and tags and crap. and do people actually notice their work? i never show my photo albums to visitors. those are for me. if someone wants to look through them, okay fine. but i don't force people to look at my pictures - unless it's one of the goat pictures, and that's only if goats come up. you know, in casual conversation. which they do, sometimes. anyway, it's a weird subset of people, and i'm officially afraid of them.

easily swayed by blueberries

noreply@blogspirit.com () — Tue, 25 Apr 2006 04:00:00 -0700

man, fruit is my weakness. my flower friend, who holed up with a lady for about six months and ignored the rest of the world, brought some chocolate covered blueberries to my workplace. i'm not much for chocolate, but these are the shit. not as awesome as cheese popcorn, but still. so yeah, my flower friend became completely pussy-whipped or something, because no one's really seen him since sometime november. apparently, he's broken up with the bewitching lady, because now he's trying to appease the folk he alienated. hence the blueberries. i was very happy to see him, but it did make me realize that i still need to make new friends. when did this become so fucking hard? is it because i don't drink, really, and i don't smoke? i don't do drugs, and i don't handle fake people very well? aaargh, i say.

so, i've been knitting mostly this weekend. i've found it to be a zen thing, to knit while sitting in the sun. i don't know why this is, but it seems like i became more pink/ red on my left bicep. now it looks like i have driver's arm. i thought i was sitting in such a way as to avoid uneven pinking. z has taken to laying on the trampoline in the backyard, in her underwear - z dog left for outdoor school this weekend, so there's no one to embarass - for 20 minutes per side. i told her we should just stick her on a spit, and rotate her like a rotissere chicken.

and i discovered craig's list. it's bizarre, all these things that i've discovered in the last six months. and it's not like i 'discovered' any of it. but stuff like my space, and blogs and craig's list, they've been around for a while. but it's like i found a new toy or something. i went to craig's list originally to find out if there was a knitting group or circle in this area that i could join. like i said, need to meet new folks. and since i have this lust for knitting, that seemed like a good place to start. holy crap, there's a whole department for just meeting folks in a not-looking-for-a-relationship way. who woulda thunk it? so, i answered a bunch of those. found one post for a crafting buddy, but nothing specific for knitting. i might have to actually do some research on how to find such a group. i'd rather not start one if one already exists, you know?

okay, tonight i meant to see this guy play at kells. and i fell deeply asleep, had a great dream, and basically missed his set. he plays with amadan, and i totally love them, so i was truly looking forward to seeing him on his own. i walk by, and the stage - and pretty much the bar - was empty. so i walked down around dante's, looked at flyers for upcoming shows at berbati's - holy shit! captured by robots is coming! brace yourselves! - and basically wasted time until i had to go to work. when i walked back past kells, there was the guy, performing for maybe 10 people. i felt like a tard, having been looking forward to the music and all. when i got to my car, i figured out that i was parked behind the performer's truck - all the stickers, and the license plate totally gave it away - so i left a note on his winshield. how retarded is that? the guy doesn't know me, and he comes out to see this piece of paper on his windshield, like we're in fourth grade. i felt silly doing it, but it seemed like i had to. i couldn't leave without writing this little thing - 'missed your show, love your music,' blah blah blah - and sticking it under his wiper. now, i feel obligated to show up on time to his next show. thank goodness he's doing this all week. i have lots of chances to screw up.

and yeah, the end of may. captured by robots, at berbati's. crappy butt rock, fabulous performance. haven't seen the guy for at least three years, but i got such a kick out of him then that i feel obligated to so it again. look him up - he's a kook.