Red Headed Devil

Moving on? Maybe for a quick tick

2012-01-09T15:49:00.000-08:00

Crazy things happen in the world of Mel. You meet a boy who puts up with your brand of crazy, you fall in love, and you get engaged. Next thing you know, you’re planning a 5 month escape of America for the historical pastures of Europe, on bike. You pack up your shit, put in a notice at your job and now count down the days. You should join this world, it’s a happy one.

This blog was only ever the narcissistic ramblings of my own mental diarrhea, with the narcissistic belief that people would care, and enjoy. Alas, it was fun, but I will be vacating it for awhile to focus on my art one, and to hopefully be more militant about the one we’re doing for our bike tour. Fuck, it’s not like I really wrote much in this thing anyway.

NYC trip, and so much more, Busy Bee is me!

2011-06-08T17:20:00.000-07:00

I had been avoiding a trip, much to the grumbles of my dude, to NYC for a couple of reasons-well, mostly one: too fucking expensive. The other was less of a reason, and more the fact that I never wanted to visit; it just never appealed to me. So after the first attempt to get me to go failed, the dude made a second sweeter attempt that any fool would say 'no' to, eu hated said city: "I will treat you." Well fucking-a shit howdy, OK!

We chose to bike as our main form of transportation
All in all, I'd have to say it was a pretty okie dokie city that didn't rattle the nerves too much. I prefer the main mode of bicycle for travel, but I did try the subway system, twice, to no avail. The first time was en route to the Met to see the Alexander McQueen show-incredible, just go-and managed to get lost, to only traverse 20 blocks in high heels to get there. Ouch.ven if yo

Aside from the highlight of McQueen, I didn't do anything too remarkable, mostly did a lot of bike rides, checked out curiosities shops, and bought $9 chocolate bars from Mast Bros(yes, $9 fucking dollars). I overall enjoyed the city, only really getting completely stressed out once, due to riding on Canal St to get to the Spin Magazine offices. I enjoyed the more low key side of Brooklyn, favoring a couple of the subdivision neighborhoods. Times Square was insanity, the library in Manhattan was glorious, Evolution is a store I could blow lots of money on, and I saw Bryant Park-fashion squeal!

July was just...INSANE. With heading home to organize my parent's 40th anniversary party, helping special man friend's(SMF) mom clean and pack her house, HLP(hetero life partner) Andrea's visit and her two burlesque performances, making a brooch bouquet, two portraits, and a hair veil piece for my friend Trish's wedding in Seattle, travel to Seattle for said wedding, and back again. I'm fucking beat and very much looking forward to not traveling for a bit, and focusing on some much needed self creative time. I will be running an Etsy shop for SMF's mum's stuff that I pilfered; proceeds go to her new house, and it was seriously an insane treasure hunt with some of the shit I found(Check back, as I will be listing stuff very soon). I will also be working on my other Etsy store, with uploading jewelry, and other hand made shit.

oh and this happened:

yep... putting my feet up for a bit

Can't sleep, thugs will eat me

2011-03-16T00:04:00.000-07:00

Help me out here Oakland, because I like you, I do. When people poo poo you, I defend you, I do. You've got a lot of great aspects, neighborhoods and such. True true, there are some bad parts of town, but what city doesn't have bad parts? And why should these bad parts give the whole city a bad rap? Every city has their violence and gangs, even the corn-feed variety. I've seen it in Seattle, LA, Riverside, Portland and San Francisco. It really happens everywhere, and I refuse to hide from the world, locking myself up in a Howard Huges proportion, where I lock every door behind me and double check them constantly.

Tonight on my very wet bike ride home from MacArthur Bart, I got harassed. Now, shit happens and I was surprisingly not scared but I did become angry. Here's my story:

My route home finds me on major streets and minor residential side streets; a relatively quick ride in under 10minutes. I've been here almost a year and I have not had problems; and I've ridden in far socially deemed, worse area's than my usual route. I'm coming down a fairly busy street approaching a four way stop. I slow down into the left turn lane, waiting to give a truck the straight right of way. As I proceed to turn left, on my turn, the car behind said truck, a mid to early 80's faded red and rusty Toyota, begins to lurch through the stop sign and the driver yells "get the fuck out of the road or I'll hit you", and aims his car towards me. To which I respond with a patented Mel glare and keep going onto a now quiet side street. I now hear him coming up behind me and I begin to assess my surroundings and gear up for a possible vehicle impact into the parked cars beside me or from behind; basically, assuming the worse scenario of retaliation. This street has massive speed bumps and when I fly over, he must slow down to do so. By the second speed bump, he's now pulled up next to me, is keeping pace, and says "sorry to yell at you. Just cruising for a bruisin'"; I shit you not, that's what he said to me. I respond by looking over and again assess my situation and now fully look three mid 20's males looking back at me, give a look and keep pedaling. They continue to say stuff to me, but their tone has changed and they're asking where I'm going. I make a quick right onto a side street, they go straight, I pull next to a parked car and wait for them to pass by on a street I need to access. As they pass, I attempt to catch up to them to grab a license plate number and make a report but unfortunately my glasses are covered in water, as it's raining pretty good. The last I saw of them before my turn, was them pulled up next to a homeless man with a cart. Instead of pressing my luck, I continued home with no further issues.

Do I think it was racially charged? Actually, no. Do I think it was because I was on my bike and they had to wait for me to get out of there way? I think that feels more likely. I was basically at the wrong place at the wrong time and these kids felt like getting out some pent up aggression on some poor schmuck on a bike in the rain.

Things to do

2011-02-28T13:33:00.000-08:00

in no particular order

-Flea Market at Candlestick(done)/Alameda
-Beach Chalet brunch
-Pac Heights ghost tour
-Legion of Honor
-Mt Diablo hike
-Matos Cheese
-Horseback riding (Point Reyes)
-Hawaii
-Europe: Amsterdam, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Munich, Finland
-Colma graveyards
-Santa Cruz
-Palo Alto/Stanford
-Portland
-Nevada City weekend trip
-Yosemite
-Redwood National Forest
-New York
-New Zealand
-Sand Mountain
-Huntington Library
-Virginia City(done)
-Mt Rose hike
-Hut on the water in Bora Bora
-Berlin-Ichthyasaur
-Dunton Hot Springs http://www.duntonhotsprings.com/
-Fort Ross
- Jejune institute
- Shanghai SF walking tour
- Castle Crags
- Yosemite
- Bike ride/camping trip up coast

Pretty extensive list...Europe is happening in the fall. I may or may not come back; depends on how much the Republicans continue to fuck up this country in the next couple of months...just sayin

Thanksgiving and Christmas

2011-01-03T14:09:00.000-08:00

The last part of 2010 was filled with much...much, fucking driving, to Riverside, Tahoe, Reno, Portland and Seattle.

only slightly late with holiday photos. my bad

(my dad rocks it on guitar)

I've come across a lovely man. Whilst discussing the presents exchange process for our young courtship, we had the following conversation:

me: so when should we try to celebrate Christmas?

him: On the way to Seattle?On the way back?

me: dunno, asking you sir (translation: I don't wanna make decisions-stomps foot)

him: How about at a rest stop picnic table on the way there? For some reason I like the sound of that.

me: get the fuck outta my head. seriously

him Really? You were thinking that?

me: yes, i was thinking that. with some picnic... totally. thinking. that... out in nature, totally intimate freaky

him I like it.

me: me too

him: Done and done.

wow.
I use to think I couldn't have that kind of mental freaky connection again. Hope it stays that way for awhile and it's not a fluke

Photo Dump

2010-12-18T16:31:00.001-08:00

It's Christmas season! And one other tidbit of crap

2010-12-02T14:15:00.000-08:00

Tis the season for me to think I've the capabilities to make my buds incredible handmade wears. I won't talk about them on here, in the off-hell hath frozen over-chance they will look. I will be doing the hermit style lock-myself-up-in-my-room-with-several-bottles-of-wine routine in order to stop ignoring my creative side and just make some fucking shit already, and well, make some shit not only for my friends but for my Etsy store.

Also, I've gotten a wild over zealous hair up my ass that I can handle this leather tooling pattern I've drawn up

The picture sucks, indeed.

At any rate, I'm building a new Frenchie bike to replace my stolen one. And with this new project bike I've decided to go megtron custom(for me at least) and I will be tooling a leather top bar pad and handlebar grips; going along with the custom jade on cream paint job I've done.

Yep. Ambitious

This is really quite a boring post

2010-11-01T15:22:00.000-07:00

Currently, I work in a oil smelling, wrench slinging, women insulting mechanics shop in the Mission of SF. It was the first job offered a mere two weeks of moving to Oakland and after applying to over 50 jobs, followed by a memory of a 3month jobless stint in Seattle; I took it and counted my blessings. According to the owner, my title is Office Manager or Assistant(I know not), but I think it's mostly just to make me feel important. I tend to think of myself as more of a Office Gopher Bitch. You know the phrase “go for this, go for that” but in my case, add on customer attitude receptacle; much like the vagina is the penis receptacle, except my version is a lot less fun or pleasurable. I know what you’re thinking, “you are doing customer service?” and thus piss your pants with laughter. Yes, surprisingly enough, I can be quite nice on the phone, must be the fact I’m getting up there in years.

I know enough about cars, thanks to my parents sticking a wrench in my hand sometime around 15, to keep my head straight working at a mechanics shop. I will say this about my place of work, they do have a mom and pop feel with bending over backwards for their clients. Case in point, we get the valued customer’s cars detailed if say, it’s really fucking dirty by the hands of filthy creatures called “kids”, or say you spent a decent amount of dough with us because you didn’t care good enough for your car to keep the oil changed, belts up to date and now it’s literally raping you in the wallet; call it a sympathy wash. The other thing we offer is free loaner cars-yes free. You drop your whip, we supply you with one whilst repairs are in order-nice, no? Now, I find this above and beyond mechanic shop duty. However, we get some self righteous entitled mother fucks that walk into this shop thinking they should get the cream of the crop while we thankfully kneel down and lick their taints. So when a particularly lovely specimen of a nose in air woman drops off her car I receive the following "is it clean?" -yes; "is it one of the newer ones?" -wouldn't dream of giving you anything else. Needless to say, when she got the diagnosis, she was none too happy and promptly picked up her shit wagon; dressed to the nine's mind you, in her fake fur vest, cloud of swamp smell perfume and loads of expensive jewelry. "did you wash my car?" -no, sorry, it was raining. To which I received a dirty look and slew of insults. The old me was just below the surface dying to tell her fat uppity ass to get down on our level and take the fucking bus if she doesn't like it. However, the mere peeling out the driveway of her exit was enough to make me feel better. Ding dong, the witch is fucking dead.

(if only you can see the half eaten sandwhich that was peeking out on the seat)

On another note, Mike Borden, rock drummer dude for Faith No More and other rock/metal bands, is a customer of ours. I don’t know about you, but when I think rock star, even drummer rock star, the first thing that pops into my head is stories of crazy sex-capaides and drug use. The second thing that pops into my head is wicked sweet cars that are 6 figures. This gentleman(because he rather nice) drives a Volvo…wagon. No Lambo with a busty passenger ornament or a Bently rollin on duce duces. Nope. A good ol’ family wagon with safety as the priority. I don’t fault him for this. I just sit at my desk, smile when he picks up his car and picture him zooming down the highway in a manual paddle shifting 400+ horsepower sporty number, while getting a BJ.

Rock on man

Mash Up

2010-10-05T14:54:00.001-07:00

I should be doing homework right now...and although, I do have the screen up, with some reading done, an assignment submitted and subject matter researched, I...just...can't...focus. So I'll waste time with my blog-YAY!

This past weekend was decidingly sober compared to the weekend before where my good friends Amber and Brian visited from Seattle. That was a true shit show of epic proportions with a some puking, rallying, more drinking, too many shots consumed, too many asses pinched, shit talked, a now formed bluesy rock band with Amber and myself being the front women, food, more booze, some more food and not nearly enough sleep. So needless to say, I cut back this weekend on the booze…but not the music. The weekend really started on Thursday with the Black Keys and then Friday went to the de Young museum to watch Rupa and the April Fishes-a lovely little gypsy-esq band from San Francisco, then Arcade Fire on Sunday. This post is mostly just to get out some more puke, but of the photographic type from the hundreds of photos taken between then and now.

Pork Chops on top of grits at Hibiscus(veg heads really don't know what they're missing)

Bri attempts to be dandy and use his celly while riding

Rupa and the April Fishes

Me Da thought we looked good together...."we're not dating dad, sorry"

chicken and waffles in Oakland-happy bday Bri

And with that, please enjoy this lovely photo of a woman durning rush hour on the Bart, picking her foot, while the blonde next to her is probably holding back vomit and texting her friend "my god, the smell of onion is overwhelming Becky!"

You're welcome

-M-

Arcade Fire-Greek, 10/3

2010-10-04T23:21:00.000-07:00

As stated in earlier posts, Arcade Fire has a big significant bookmark in my life. Funeral came along when I struggled with my inner turmoil of self boredom, adulthood responsibilities, the society placed stigmas of where we should be at a certain age of life, and just an overall restless leg syndrome of long time placement in an area I desperately wanted to flee. (Side note: wowza-school is making me exam myself too much-say thankee). At any rate, “Wake Up” was a beacon of salvation-no, scratch that-it was a song in the soundtrack to that moment of life where the main character, me, makes the decision to do something about her situation; “fucking do something different. Loved ones will be there, even if they don’t understand, life will go on; your proverbial balls won’t recede; and further more, you will live.”

That little mental soul vomit aside…I first saw Arcade Fire in Seattle after the release of Neon Bible. They are easily one of my top ranked bands to see before you die. It was like being reunited with a mentor or hero after they helped you through a storm. This time I saw them at the Greek in Berkeley with Calexico as their opener. If you haven’t seen Calexico, I highly recommend it. They’ve got some smooth Latin inspired sounds that translate fantastically to the stage. As for AF, this band-all 32 of them- is a cracked out whore faced with the prospect of a ball playpen, filled with penises wrapped in singles.** Translation: so much energy that makes them run amok on a stage with props, instruments, and interpret dance. The heroin cracked out drummer boy that could? Yeah, he’s hypnotic, easily the most energetic of the whole band and you cannot help but let your eyes be a laser beam of intense Jeffery Dalmer watchfulness in the glow of his unicorn glitter farting glory. Oh yes, I just said ALL OF THAT! Recognize.

Having seen them before, I knew they were going to do an encore and I knew that encore would include “Wake Up” as its closer. So when they broke out with that song you could hear the whole audience singing along to the chorus...I literally had chills. Can you imagine 8,000 people fully moved by this song, singing along, and connecting? It was some made for TV movie shit; I tell you what.

They’re good, and they make great music that is easy to love…but I found myself in periods of lulls because I wanted the first album, the one that was my rock, my soundtrack and my soul mover. This show also felt a bit lacking in luster…Now, don’t get me wrong, this was one fantastic fucking show and I think everyone should experience these guys. And who knows, maybe my slight sliver of a ho-hum attitude was developed from the possible contact high I may have developed from the fat couple one row down from me, smoking some fruity smelling weed, the ENTIRE concert. Seriously, I would've been immobile after that much weed.

(Kimmay is walking the line)
**side note, this entry may or may not, have been written after some booze intake.

Black Keys-Fox Theater 9/30/10

2010-10-01T10:34:00.001-07:00

photo by Tom Tomkinson Photography

ahhh fuck @#$%^AHSJ BLARG^$#BLOOP%&*!#FU <---yep, that pretty much sums up my brain after I saw Black Keys at the Fox Theater; mush. Finally after all the times of missed connections in seeing this band, I had my face metaphorically rocked off.

I had another alternate opening line to the one above but felt it too vulgar, but apparently not too vulgar to write it anyway: “If Patrick’s intense drumming faces reflect his passion for music; can you imagine the faces while he’s just in the moment of passion?”...my curiosity is peaked. And when it came down to it, the thought of someone in the throws of passions might be a bit of a turn off, depending on your kinks, of course.

On to the band portion of our episode…Although I’m 137% positive there are far greater fans than me who know every word to every song, the street addresses of Dan and Patrick's childhood homes or at what point they had their first kiss, I am still a fan on some level. And when they struck their first note, a line from Almost Famous popped into my head “have you ever loved a band so much, it hurt?”. I reckon there were a lot of those said fans at this show. For me however, my body just buzzed from the first cord struck until I tried to sleep later that night. You want success for a band you love but on the flip side, you want them to remain a small little secret kept from the world. But nevertheless, you’re happy for them when they do hit it big.

I may have known of the Keys subconsciously beforehand but my true acquaintance with them began with a lovingly crafted mix CD. Nestled amongst the songs of intended affection, was the Keys’, “You’re the One”. It was a great introduction and we were well met. So for that, thank you Sam.

I am digging the new album Brothers but must admit, my fondness hearkens to the older more raw edged sounding albums with just the duo. I suppose it’s because of growing up listening to my father playing with his buddies. It was basic rock and blues with no frills, just the love of jamming and how that jamming makes you feel good. Not to mention growing up in the olden times where we had to read by candle light, as power was not invented yet(shit, was Edison even born?), it would stand to reason that I was raised on older rock and or roll, ya dig.

You could definitely tell the Keys picked up a bigger following with this release. I thought they mixed this show up well between the old and new songs. Starting with just the duo, then additional musicians for the more produced new album, back down to the duo again and so forth. There would be a lull with the crowd, except from older fans, until the new songs were played and then everyone just erupted. I heard a lot of: I don’t like the old stuff-blah blah blah; it sounds shitty-blah blah blah. The new stuff is just better produced and more poppy-blah blah blah. You could definitely tell where my alliance laid, by evidence of my exuberant shimmying to the older unrefined stuff that the crowd was bitching about. If my ears were a vagina, I would have been drenched 20 times over in wetness, from more than just spilt booze, from the love making they did to my ears.

Don’t ask me the set list, I don’t remember and I did not take notes. I only took one shitty cell phone shot of the band, as I was too engrossed to be bothered

(token shitty cell shot)

The black keys make some sexy music, like, seriously fucking sexy.

You're the one

"When I was 13
My mom said
"Son, you're the
one I adore"

Now I'm old and wise
When I see your eyes
You're the one I adore

Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh, ohhh

Will you be true?
Till life is up
Be the one I adore
Oh
You're the one I adore

Ohhh, ohhh"

Sketch Tuesday-Revenge of the art

2010-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

Last night I fulfilled the age old prophecy of ‘Mel, The Stupid, inflicts pain through needle to septum”. Apparently, I am allergic to growing up and feel I must do adolescent things to my body. Along with the refusal to accept aging, I also acted the youthful fool by deciding to throw away perfectly good money on too many beers, instead of depositing it into my retirement home fund; so far $100 is not going to get me more than a weeks worth of geriatric dinners.

I will not, however, apologize to myself, my wallet or my liver for scoring some more great art at Sketch Tuesday. Jay Howell, Jason Vivona and a Christopher Kardambikis comedic doodle.

Jason Vivona

Jay Howell

Christopher Kardambikis

(an assassin who prefers a very tiny bow and arrow)

Matters of the Heart

2010-09-15T15:57:00.001-07:00

find here

(maybe some day)

Cleaning out the phone

2010-09-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

just a few collected shots from my phone

(I love the symbolism of my bike under the map)

What would I do without all these wonderful iPhone apps that make me look like a cool photographer?! The tagging is from toilet view of a dive in my neighborhood. The "stop here" shot was at work and a customer had dropped a diaper. I didn't move it, that's where it was when I saw it. Didn't check if it was used.

Fecal Face 10 year anniversary

2010-09-11T16:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite sure when I became acquainted with Fecal Face but I do know it was before I moved to Seattle. How I came to know it? I'm not sure of that either; possibly through HiFructose mag or Juxtapoz. I just remember reading the website on a regular basis and thinking to myself "by golly, they throw some good shows".

Last Friday marked their party, the shit-show of who's who and lookers alike, that entailed their 10 year anniversary at the Luggage Store. I would be damned if I missed this and thus conned my friend into going with me, even though we both get angsty in big sweaty crowds. And speaking of sweaty, I had it running in ample amounts down my back and forehead, tre zexy. I think my tweet (yes, I'm a nerd) said it all: @fecalface 10 anniversary party is to crowded. As 500lbs women wrestling in 6ft room is to humid. All butt crack perspiration aside, it was an amazing turn out with amazing art, great people watching and the wine was flowing.

(And this was only 45mins in)

To the lovely husband and wife duo of Fecal Face: Thank you. You have introduced me to some amazing artists and I have learned much. Keep up the fantastic work

Sincerely
M

(this was an epic large piece by MARS-1)
(this is probably as close as I'll ever get to owning a Sylvia Ji piece)

(I believe this is Andrew and Ert's reaction to that MARS-1 piece)

Trying to get creative

2010-09-10T14:50:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, it’s hard for an intimidating, introverted, tall gal to make friends. Maybe there’s a sort of look I give that gives an air of “my teeth are really made of razor sharp Xacto's-I EAT YOU!” rawr. Any who, it’s been about 6 months in my new place and I think I’m progressing well on that social merry go round we call SF interaction traction, what’s your malfunction.

A new buddy of mine has decided to hold an ‘art night’ as his house; hopefully monthly. Basically we all sit around and create, the idea that being in the presence of creatives will get your creative juices flowing-to paper, not down your leg-in a Megalasarous sized creativity creative Creation nation, jam-fest. This first session found four tattoo artists dudes and me: a non tattooer, non dude, would-be artist gal.

It was a fun beer filled evening, chock full of paints, jokes, munchies and an oddly uncomfortable moment where a random older British man disrobed to show us his body suit. Not that the disrobing part was that uncomfortable, but more so the fact that he sat there and talked to us for a good 20mins with his pants around his ankles. It's hard to keep eye contact-or a straight face-when your oculars have been accosted by what appears to be a pair of manties filled with low lying golf balls.

(wow, she's got some weird thing coming from her crotchal region)

...

Oh dear lord, saggy balls from over the pond!

I ended up sketching out a young Queen Mum as a festering rotting zombie with a Union Jack flag and some Thistle in the back ground. Perhaps it was inspiration from the exhibitionist Brit fellow that made me think of the Queen festering with sagging rotting skin... No pic yet, will post it when I've completed it.

Tagged by Francesco

Did you know?

2010-09-09T17:31:00.001-07:00

My stomach still does somersaults when I see your picture

And it's off!!!

2010-08-30T16:14:00.000-07:00

Fingers crossed that someone other than close friends find my art acceptible...

Seppuku

2010-08-27T13:37:00.001-07:00

My paintings usually don’t have a deep meaning to them. For the most part, I love taking some of my favorite topics, like Alice in Wonderland or the Macabre and translate them through the beauty of the female form. That’s not to say I haven’t painted some with a message or meaning...of which those usually fell under the times of emotional distress or the confusion of love, heartache or pain. Then all the sudden I become a big weepy vagina and quite literally paint shit like a woman offering her heart in her hand; translation: total literal girly emo dribble.

Through my quest of higher education, I have discovered the joys of funding-or rather-lack there of. Thus, I am aiming pretty high for a scholarship through AOL that would fund a full year of school and then some. Due to this, I decided to challenge myself by working with acrylic paints; I’m not so much a fan…yet. It’s a long slow process that finds me getting sick(literally hacking as I type this) from long hours of painting, lack of sleep, and drunk quicker during the process, than with the quickness and ease I find while I work in my typical medium-Gouache (sounds like gwash). This painting is a huge step out of my comfort zone. So I hope by doing that, I am expanding my horizon of style and technique. I will continue to work on it after submission, as I want to do more but for the sake of the scholarship, I hope that I've put forth a clear and concise message while expressing the beauty of women that I love and my knowledge of colors. I find sometimes that some artist's messages are so convoluted under paint that it puzzles the viewer all together.

(painting starts with this)

(involves a whole lotta this)

Some can’t fathom what emotions the metaphoric human heart can endure. Some build walls around it and some just lay it all out there in open abandonment. In a not too distant world of Mel, in a time not far past, I experienced an amazing opening of my heart. Someone dared to break down the epic battle resistant walls that surrounded my emotional ooey gooey girly puke. Thus I wore my heart openly, the way my art subject wears hers for the world to see. It was amazing, I am thankful; it was the best and worst thing to happen to me. I however, failed to grasp this new openness and see it to fruition...thus my heart now bears a tremendous pain that I still struggle to dull to a mere ache...

This painting is something of an experiment in the emotional band-aid sense as well. I am hoping that by pouring my heart’s pain over this person into this piece, I will gain some inner peace. Much like she is about to preform Seppuku on her life, I am preforming a form of it by gutting myself of this pain.

The walls that were previously knocked down, have been reconstructed with a stronger mortar. I still desire the ability to love and be loved…but for now, the healing needs more time as this person still very much dances through the arteries of my heart.

(too much drink+sloppy painter=paint on face)

and with that, my purring companion says ":p...go to bed"

When something comes up and emotionally side swipes you...

2010-08-12T15:10:00.000-07:00

God Arcade Fire, you melt me. There’s something about Funeral that brings a flood of heart attacking memories. And it always knows when my guts are reeling with emotions

In 2005/06 my life was in a self induced upheaval. I had never ventured life outside of Southern California and the previous paths I had chosen were doing me great injustice. Of what you might ask? Well the fact that there is so much to explore, learn and live through and I was merely picking my ass while I rotted away in an area nicknamed “land of the dirt people”; I had to move, I had to get the fuck out. I remember when I heard the Funeral in its entirety; it was whilst sitting down to a beer, with a fellow redhead. That album bookmarked the already known subconscious decision in to solidification, that I was about to embark on new adventures.

My wanderlust…it was born. I now know I can up and move and land on my feet. Granted the landing is the hardest part and in my case a shaky one. With the love and support of family and friends, I preserver. My wanderlust, she still hungers…I feel I’m destined for something fantastic but how do you find that fantastic when you don’t know what the hell it is? And of course, I can’t get to that pretty pretty fantastic moment without actually doing SOMETHING… Perhaps my life is truly just walking this earth, watching my shadow grow long beneath my strides and doing it alone with only my own soul to share it with…or maybe it’s to use these great hips to pop out a bunch of puppies. But since I have disdain for children, we’ll go with option A.

Of course all of this brain over-analyzing could be a fierce side effect from my new corduroy pants being tragically too tight; creating not only a muffin-muffin-top-gurl but also cutting blood flow somehow to my thought center. Either way, I give mad props to Levi’s for the button not busting and producing attire that affectively remind me to eat better, lay off the beer and lose an inch from my mid section.

Cheers

Look in my eyes, I am serious...these pants are tight!

Sketch Tuesdays and Aquired Art

2010-07-30T14:37:00.001-07:00

Sketch Tuesdays are the shit. Cool artists that normally charge more than my student starving ass can afford, make some sweet mini pieces and sell them direct to the crowd; no commission paid to the gallery, 111 Minna

I love collecting art

picked up this cute little silhouette piece from Charmaine Olivia (blog here)

(rights reserved by Brian_Brooks )

Zombie

2010-07-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

listed a painting on my Etsy store Dreaming Darkly...This will mark the first time I am attempting to sell something I've painted and endure the criticism and possible rejection of...gasp...no one loving it the way I do and thus buying it. Hopefully soon, I will get some prints up for sale of previously painted women(that were in a not-so-long-ago-post).

http://www.etsy.com/listing/52545211/queen-elizabeth-the-zombie

Scribbles

2010-07-23T16:02:00.000-07:00

Had to head Southern-ly homeward bound last weekend due to the passing of my grandmother. While spending time on old stomping grounds, I had the positive note of hanging with an old friend and checking out his studio. His shop is a trip...a eye absorbing Memento Mori museum of curiosities and an incredible collection of art

just a couple tattoo machines...

(life, love, family...Twain wisdom)

Seems a pity that an artist such as Adam would be doing such a simple first tattoo on me. He has a tracing somewhere of my ribs for a rather large piece to be done in the future...I'm just a chicken shit, as I know that is going to be a gnarly painful spot.

Check out his website. He's appointment only but talented and well worth the wait:

Adam Turk

http://www.lhblk.com/

Seattle!!

2010-07-07T16:23:00.001-07:00

Sometimes it doesn’t matter what kind of shit life throws at you or the funk that may grasp your heart, when a good song comes, it can lift the spirits causing you to just turn your face to the sunny sky and smile. If even for a temporary amnesiac fix, embrace it, good songs are good for the soul

Here’s just a few on my current iPod mix that make me feel better when I’m riding my two wheel whip:
The Only Living Boy in New York - Simon and Garfunkel
Two Weeks - Grizzly Bears
Wake Up - Arcade Fire
Mansford Roof -Vampire Weekend
Into the Open -Heartless Bastards
Home - LCD Soundsystem
We Own the Sky-M83
Ghostwriter-RJD2
Elephant Gun-Beirut
Absinthe at the Fly Honey Warehouse-Minus the Bear

There's many more...but these are just off the top of my head

Also, recently drove to Seattle to start bringing my things from storage to my new home and get a little ink work done. So happy to have normalcy again...even if I still have strong wanderlust

Acquired Art

2010-07-06T11:50:00.001-07:00

I may be called a poser for one of the following:
A. I don’t live in NY
Or
B. I didn’t make it to the Broken Social Scene show in SF when they rolled through last, due to my lagging ass at purchasing tickets of which I cried into my bowl of Cheerios.

However, I don’t care because this design was great and the coloring matches splendidly with my walls. Mike King is the shit at rock poster designs and also very kind for putting up with my nagging over ordering direct from him.

My fingers are crossed that he’ll be doing a Black Keys poster for their current tour…I’d love to add to my collection.

Check him out
http://www.crashamerica.com/

Fourth of July shout out

2010-07-04T15:40:00.000-07:00

To me, the 4^th was never really about the independence of this baby country, of which I still flirt with the ex-pat aspect, but more so, it’s about friends and family. My mom and the sister-that-I-never-had-but-adopted-through-the-neighborhood half Chinese-American girl across the street’s bday. Yes, I am blessed with the fact that me-being utterly horrid with remembering not only important dates, like marriage anniversaries, birthdays and the all important person's name-has the very fortunate reminder of our nation’s birth into independence as a reminder to the annual telephone salutation of celebrations for growing older.

So to Mei Li and my mother-Happy Birthday.

What else do I do on this holiday? Well, I drink. Mimosa’s in fact. While I am pleasantly stuffed with a well prepared vegetarian brunch for the housemates (by yours truly, thank you very much) and, um, *counts fingers* 1, 2, 3…4 bottles worth of champagne drank before 4pm…I am not only making those said bday calls, I am also reflecting on another family relationship…that of my brother’s and mine.

We may have had a tumultuous relationship growing up, that of a 6year age difference, with the fact that I once may have destroyed his first addition Millennium Falcon toy…or constantly intruded on the privacy of the inner sanctum of his bedroom…or the fact that I may have destroyed one or two of his first addition G.I. Joe action figures with the kung fu grip…How am I still alive you may ask, not suffocated by the mere two hands of my bro? Well, A. a 6’4” anger induced father and B. the brother taking his frustrations out in the form of violent “play” against said younger sister. Trust me, my brother got his revenge one way or another.

But past aside, I have grown to respect my brother’s intelligence, not only being the brain of the family but also the rock of my family togetherness with him later in life, as a great source of opinion and guidance. He recently graduated college, of which I am in awe and greatly proud…and thusly, I have entrusted him with documenting my artwork for “hopeful”(because I don’t think it’s worth selling) future sales and a chance to possibly build a creative name for myself. I know he will give the most straightforward opinion null of fluff, not only of my pieces but also of my future. Frankly, he is the only one allowed to get away with telling me “her face is not proportionate” or “her ear is too low”.

Thank you brother,

For your strides in life are great and your intelligence grows deep

You have provided me the best family love to keep

(me and said brothar)

My daily commute

2010-07-02T10:08:00.000-07:00

I absolutely love my daily commute. I get on, zone out and best of all, I don't have to sit in traffic. I find that the Bart is so wonderful in its borderline soap opera mass transit world, that someone surely should devote a blog to it. Here are just a few of my favorite missed connections.

1. Would be rapper drunkenly promoting release ep
Your brash in-your-face-attitude marketing approach to the fair riders of the Richmond line of the late night Bart, found me enthralled. More so when my heart raced when you wiped your shoe smegma on the seat next to me. Was this a simple rouse for my heart or are you toying with my emotions?

2. Lover’s quarrel
Granted, I was in my own world of iPod musical pre-coffee morning commute haze, but when I heard the shouts from the other passengers over Radiohead, I must confess confusion. My all too American overexposed love of reality gore implored to missing the guy on girl fisting action-not of the vaginal variety-which lulled the train to a 15minute wait time until you both fled the scene

3. Not too young, yet too bold
Your beautiful chiseled face and model good looks kept me in rapt attention. Your willingness to disclose the fact that you, 24, have already been married and divorced to someone my age, hitched from Brooklyn to New Orleans braving the possible sexual trucker act/rape to your purdy mouth and would love to hitch again only this time with your beloved fixie, addiction/sobriety and free love openness attitude…in a mere 10minutes to myself, a total stranger, kept me from disclosing my real number

4. Poindexter
Don’t take offense to the title, a well dressed nerd is attractive, as was an obviously case in point to me eye fucking you for a good 3 stops which thusly caused you to jump ship in an almost Olympic speed sprint to another train in what I can only assume is fear that I will bite off your head after copulation. For this, I am sorry

Damon Soule mind fuck on canvas

2010-06-16T14:08:00.000-07:00

(I will own a decent camera one day)

Damon Soule is a magnificent artist. I can't remember when my being came into meeting up with his mind numbing paintings but suffice to say, I've been in awe ever since. I highly recommend checking out one of his shows, which I almost did at Fecal Face Gallery in SF. I say almost, as that gallery albeit pulling great artists, is the size of my dream closet. So instead of hitting up opening night where I'd probably be elbow to elbow in a mad rush for a Tecate to cut the edge of angst I'd feel towards others in tight quarters with faaaar too many people, I opted to go the next day and 'run an errand' for work. Best decision ever, as I was able to stand mere inches with unobstructed views and just soak in every fine detail, color and stroke of each piece.

http://soule23.tumblr.com/

here is Fecal Face's post of their MUCH better shots of the pieces in their gallery and opening night

http://www.fecalface.com/SF/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1964&Itemid=90

Dedication to migration

2010-06-01T15:16:00.000-07:00

A young friendship(and by young I mean length, not age) of mine(albeit, it felt like it spanned a depth of time), has tragically been derailed for greater and better horizons. Although the pain felt by this parting of the minds leaves me feeling hollowed where only the voids can be filled with sorrow, I deep down know this is for the best. The decision for this individual to move on to greater and better things as well as a different coast, will only aid in the over taking of the world by their success and achievements. I wish the best, though, I know best wishes aren't in order when applied to this individual, who possesses great drive, ambition, a giant brain and much talent in life.

I dedicate this song. For you left your home town, your haunt, your blood, to be impetuous and seek greatness and happiness

I’m pre-meditating crime of a personal kind

I’m about to go out of my mind
I’m just about sick to death of taking breath
And walking this line of mine

Now, folks that know what’s good for them
Are good at ignoring them
But I just can’t put these thoughts down
I’m harrowed and abused and broken and pursued
By this notion that follows me around

My heart is hurting, my spirit’s burdened
I feel like a liar and a thief
For taking air, for being here
Unwanted, I look for my final release

Goodbye, goodbye California
Goodbye and I’ll be moving on
I sang you my songs, I know I’m wrong
Fare thee well and I’ll be moving on

When I’m dead and gone
My immortal home will hold me in its bosom
Safe and cold, no more desires
Will light their fires or disturb my immaculate calm

And the birds of the air and the beast of the soil
And the fishes of the desperate seas
Will know who I am and our substance will expand
As part of everything

As part of everything, my god
As part of everything and the clouds will roll
And the wind will blow and the beautiful birds will sing

Goodbye, goodbye, California
Goodbye to your waving trees
To you succulent wind and all my friends
Fare thee well, goodbye, so be it
Amen
Amen

James + Evander 5/25

2010-05-26T14:17:00.001-07:00

(dude, you know these guys are cool, even Chewy did his hair for their gig)

Nothing says fun like an electronic musical event that Star Wars threw up on. Never mind that the paraphernalia is owned by two young 20something fans that were not yet the pre-sperm sparkle in their father’s eye when these movies came out. But love sees no age, as I find myself saying over and over again when I’m lovingly referred to as Chester by my friend. That tidbit is neither here nor there though. I was introduced to the computer generated mix-masturbater duo James + Evander about a month ago with their "This isn't the beginning of anything" release. It was love at first note to my lobes. Electronic, is probably not what they would call themselves(as they play instruments on their albums as well) and I’m no expert on musical labels, but that’s the word I’m using. Their songs have nary a lyric, party remixes excluded, with maybe a few vocal note accents to a song or two here and there(StaplerStaplerStapler.com for example)

Now, when I think DJ, I think dusty vinyl coupled with names like Shadow and Cut Chemist (which, thoroughly impressed me and created a new found respect for record slingers). When I see a DJ coupled with a MAC notebook, I instantly think button pusher, as in Homer J Simpson, as in pushing the buttons on the reactor so Springfield doesn’t blow up in a mushroom cloud, as in LOST every 108 minutes. Now, don’t get me wrong, do you see my ass composing any sort of musical finery of any sort? Fuck no. So I’m not saying these modern day laptop Mozart’s are any less creative or talented... even if said DJ does strategically push a button while he strategically fixes his hair and then strategically messes it up again(stratego style).

(push the button, you must)

At any rate, I got a chance to check out a J+E show last night. But unfortunately to the disappointment of their fans, the show was cut short, as it was in an art gallery that had limited hours and there were two openers that, in my opinion, played far too long. The openers were ok, the second, being rather repetitive with his beats, thus leaving me highly antsy for his set to end and to hunt down my next beer to get a break. I lacked hope for excitement or entertainment from the main duo by the time they started but a metaphoric slap to my face for thinking such preposterous asshole ideas is what I got. The openers really did pale in comparison to the quality that this dynamic duo produces, even with a set list cut tragically short.

(Duo)

So whether its computer or dusty vinyl, music is the end result and fuck all if these kids don’t make me subsequently happy, abolishing any dour mood when I listen to the stuff they produce. They don’t carry themselves with the boring tempo and the annoyance of over repetition but rather mix with complexity and fun.“This isn’t the beginning” has song after song of up swinging beats that just lift the spirits; building your momentum the way some of the songs build towards an ending before breaking down again. I am eager for more to feed my fix and am looking forward to what they come up with next

"Wasted time heals all wounds"

2010-05-09T23:06:00.000-07:00

Was something someone once said...

I find myself currently disagreeing with that statement, as I seem to be opening old wounds with a sadistic slow ripping off of the metaphoric band-aid, with my wasted time. Delving into the mental archives of things once cherished, once held so high with a heart swelling force that knocked me for loop...

I blame the wine

More in passing

2010-05-05T14:43:00.001-07:00

shitty picture but amazing view at the top of a hill in Noe area

excellent creepy bunny graffiti in the girl's shitter at the Attic

"Art. This word has no definition"

2010-05-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

Beautiful Blue Bird skies were abundant in the Bay this weekend. I’m kind of lucky in the sense that I live in the East Bay, Oakland and work in San Francisco, I get the best of both worlds and like many who live here, I commute. The Oakland museum of Art California just reopened their doors after a major remodel, so I decided to make the most of a leisurely Sunday, slather 45spf on my pasty skin, hop on the two wheel whip and fill my day up with art.

Art has been in my heart since I was a wee young pup to me da’s knee. I use to play with his color wheel very early on and wonder at all of his oil paints, brushes, art books and his own personal pieces. LACMA is probably one of my favorites with an extensive gallery of historical pieces; many an hour have been spent lost in the beauty of the renaissance masters…

Oakland’s layout is interesting, open and layered. Since this was the opening weekend, it was crowded and I tend to get tense in crowds…so unfortunately for me, I felt like I missed a lot. The fine art wing is great, I just wish there was more of it. I didn’t get to explore the outdoor grounds, as there was a large event tent set up, but I will gladly come back when the excitement has calmed a bit and take more time to absorb and sit outside and enjoy the views of Lake Merritt.

(apparently there's a huge problem with licking)

(detail of intricate lacework on a painting)

(These signs are near the Mexico border)

A quick hop over-or rather, under the water-I went to SFMOMA. Granted, I’m not a big lover of most modern art, as the asshole shit talker in me finds that throwing stuff at a canvas doesn’t seem too skilled. But the beauty of art is it’s all in the eye of the beholder. This museum though, is beautiful in it’s architecture and layout. It has a natural flow to each floor that naturally progresses you upward. It’s spacious and I was able to fully enjoy some of the pieces in serenity.

(the ceiling reminds me of being in the belly of the whale)

(not sure what this is but a Burton nightmare seems fitting)

(being on the top floor and being able to see down to the bottom is a bit disorientating)

(I actually like the simplicity of this bunny)

It was a good inspirational day, as one of my favorite pastimes is solitude in a museum. I will have to check out the De Young Fine Arts Museum next, as that is more up my alley…

How...

2010-04-25T22:49:00.000-07:00

Let it die and get out of my mind
We don't see eye to eye
Or hear ear to ear

Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss
And see this for what it is
That we're not in love

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start

It was hard to tell just how I felt
To not recognize myself
I started to fade away

And after all it won't take long to fall in love
Now I know what I don't want
I learned that with you

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start
The tragedy starts from the very first spark
Losing your mind for the sake of your heart
The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start

out and about

2010-04-24T20:53:00.001-07:00

just two shots in passing...

I have a weakness for old buildings and this city has it in spades-I could waste rolls of film on the houses here. Gives my architectural loving soul a big ol boner

Walk on weary traveler

2010-04-24T20:32:00.000-07:00

For your feet are tired and worn

Being here nor there, O the sights been seen

Lost is the soul with no direction

No where to rest thy bones

Longing are the days for a place to truly call your home

To hang your hat

To lay your head

To unpack and stay

And to have a door in which to shut out the world

For roots to grab hold, for love to grow

Your hearts own cocoon

(early morning start and no so breakfast of champions)

Steps finally happened and I finally moved to the Bay; it all transpired within a few weeks time. To my father’s description of yours truly “she’s impetuous”…that wasn’t a compliment. However, in his defense, I am. Life’s too short and I find that if I think things out too much, I tend not to follow through…mostly because I am a tried and true over-analyzing fucktard.

So as the move went: up at 3:30am, on the road by 5am; shitty McDonalds breakfast; shitty coffee; shitty central California drive; beautiful sunrise; beautiful Bay. Being that mostly all of my belongings are still in Seattle, this was an easy move and unpacking venture; literally an hour.

I’ve been here 3 weeks now, managed a job in a very no brainer environment in the Mission district of SF. I’m unpacked. I have an honest to goodness bed, all my own to stretch my lovely limbs upon, for the first time in 8months. I’ve already had my lovely Frenchie road bike boyfriend Frankenstein stolen from me (a sign I’m truly a resident) and I’ve been exploring my surroundings and making new acquaintances. I have to say that after the initial loneliness of the first couple of weeks subsided; I’m feeling pretty good knowing that I’m sticking around some place for a good amount of time.

Being a nomad had its perks but it was also very daunting. I wouldn’t trade it though, it was an amazing experience to be able to get up and go. And who knows where life will take me in the future but I can firmly say that it’s not so difficult to pick up and go on an adventure…

For now, I’m fully enjoying this bed and being in one place for a while

Gloom

2010-03-22T08:44:00.000-07:00

Just a couple shots from my recent road trip to the bay. Central California truly is a boring drive

Le sigh

2010-03-14T20:49:00.000-07:00

Life's ups and downs; I've had many

You'd think I would have gained the wisdom to spot the bullshit that blocks me from happiness sooner. Alas...not so.

So, do I turn my back and walk?or continue with the struggle head on?

School owns me

2010-03-12T20:30:00.000-08:00

Still nine weeks left and I'm already, metaphorically speaking, balls deep into my final project for my Marketing class: a business model/proposal for a retail store. My shit's so bomb I'm considering it when I'm done with school. My dude would be the sharpest dressed man alive; making the panties drop

(just some notes..."clean car" is a highly important aspect of after school specials)

Sad day...

2010-03-05T19:25:00.000-08:00

It’s a pity to me that kind words are only truly shared on a tragic occasion like a funeral. We should practice more the art of making our friends and loved ones feel loved; letting them know the special places they hold in our hearts and minds.

A dear friend of mine lost her husband far too early in life, at the age of 36; their children, lost their father. She has physically been there for me in the past through dark times and when physicality was not available, she provided her ear. She loves nothing more than to torture me by forcing human emotional interactions with hugs and to watch me squirm by telling me ‘I love you’; knowing full well that I am not good with exposing feelings. Today at her husband’s funeral, I freely offered up those words in return. I hope she knows that she’s got me in her corner for anything she needs.

One of my favorite poems came to mind during the service today, as it was spoken about how long her and her husband were involved in each other’s lives…since 7th grade.

Annabelle Lee
Edgar Allen Poe

"It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea. "

Mummy Bitch

2010-02-24T19:28:00.001-08:00

From start...

annnnnddd.....

Finished

Gouache on cold press

18x24"
Probably my best piece to date. I'm a proud mama

Foul tip

2010-02-22T23:12:00.000-08:00

Life throws us curve balls...be it family strife, struggling for college funds or broken hearts. I'm stretching towards the end of my nomadic life; a home plate if you will; a game plan for life and hopefully one day, my heart.

The metal steed that is my symbol of freedom, will be going on the market next week; gasp! I know. But I need the cash as a cushion to find a job with a roof over my head. Not to mention, I hate driving in the city. And mostly, well, I'm just plan tired of not having a home. Sure I have a place to rest my weary bones now but it's not MY home. So Cal and Seattle couldn't hold me, so now what? The plan is still the Bay...

Soon, so very very soon...I can almost feel the canvas of my home plate

Dan Auerbach's 'Goin' Home' came on tonight. The second verse seems fitting for a recent trip to the Pac NW. It's a beautifully delicate song and it made me tear a bit:

"I’ve spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills
I know I’m not the only one

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…

I saw the streets all ripe with jewels
Balconies and the laundry lines
They tried to make me welcome there
But their streets did not feel like mine

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…

I want the sun to hit my face
Through oak trees in the open lot
Forget about the things you want
Be thankful for what all you got

So long, I’m goin’, goin’ home…"

(I'm trying to be thankful for what I got and weather the storm of the things I cannot control)

They've built boats for these floods

2010-02-16T00:19:00.000-08:00

Sometimes nothing is more fabulous than laying in bed with your window open on a rainy night. Magic is the ease at which the rain serenades you to sleep and the clarity of the crisp air in your lungs after it's been cleansed by the water. If you get cold, gather the warmth of your lover's embrace; if they're out of town, add a blanket and snuggle up in a ball under it's cocoon.

Thanks Seattle for providing me lots of rainy days thus far on my visit. Sincerely

Single Awareness Day

2010-02-15T09:22:00.000-08:00

Yes...that special day when lovers want forced affection and gifts as a token of proof for your love for them. It was never really my forte...personally, I feel people shouldn't need a specific day to treat someone special, it should be a daily ritual; if even a simple spoken gesture like "I love you", "Thinking about you" or "I miss you". Corny, indeed, but in my personal preference, it's the thought that truly counts. Even if that thought is simply a verbal one.

So that mental vomit out of the way...I spent my February 14th with some good friends in Seattle for a potluck. For the sheer sake of not wanting to be around the hopeless saps and the unfortunately forced. Dinner menu was as following:
5bottles of wine
Salmon
some fantastic cheeses and bakery bread
spinach dip
clams
pasta
green beans, baby broccoli and brussel sprouts

(a little more classy than 2girls1cup)

Love and EZ cheese

2010-02-13T23:28:00.000-08:00

The adventure begins with road munchies, of which I was not permitted my standard beef jerky, for fear of a raise in methane levels in our hotel room; some heinous hours of traffic; downpours; and vampire grilles yo'

Car games which consisted of putting the word "anal" in front of vehicle types and turning road signs into sexual context.
Top Five car names:
Anal Ram
Anal Escape
Anal Avenger
Anal Probe
Anal Outback

Top Two sexual name slang:
Yelm: when the jizz that gets shot onto the girls stomach collects into the belly button and crusts over
Steilcoom: when you've finished the blow job and sneeze with his wad in your mouth, thus causing it to shoot out your nose.

A very quick run down of events:
Marathon. Mary's(every morning should begin with licking your own heel...from behind your head..one flexy bitch with a great ass). A very dead Tube. Magic Gardens(where one stripper may or may not have wanted Amber or myself to raise her unborn baby. I'm voting for me, she winked, yep, she wants me). The Fez 80's dancing and an Anna body slam to a poor unsuspecting victim. Late late night-er morning munchie attack to the Garlic Triscuts and remaining EZ Cheese...followed up by "holy shit, this room reeks of alcohol". Douglas Fir. Powell Books(drool). Thrift shopping. Gluttony at Life of Riley. And a mad dash drive home with bleary eyes, Murder City Devils and a woman(Amber) speaking Texan in the backseat. Yep, that's about it.

There was a lot of booze involved in all of the above. Ace Hotel is tits with a photo booth in the lobby and an adjoining Stumptown Rosters. Portland is rad and I had forgotten just how much it tickles my fancy.

some key verbal highlights offered by Amber and Anna:
"my vagina is loaded 99% of the time. and I'm sure it has a drinking problem." (amber)
"my vagina is a preserved wild life reserve" (anna)
"don't worry about the dead baby in the wheel well, he's been dead for awhile and can't feel much anymore" (amber)

(Gluttony)

Cheers!

Looker

2010-02-11T23:59:00.001-08:00

Yep...missing this

Oh the weary traveler

2010-02-10T22:12:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here on a Friday night typing instead of going out. Shit, wait, its Wednesday?! See what happens when you quit your 8-5 gig in hopes of bettering yourself in college? Fucking aye.

I'm going somewhere with this entry…really.

(you could just reach out and touch it)

I use to hate flying-shit, I STILL hate it. But with the amount of travel my life has seen and taken on over the last year, I've become quite the professional nomadic weary traveler. On the off occasion I choose to leave the metal steed at home and take a metal death trap bird instead. I've got a system to deal with my flying phobia(well not the flying part but the falling out of the sky into a fiery blaze of molten steel towards an earth shattering crash…), Vicodin and a beer before flying puts me to sleep and eases the white knuckle grabbing on the arm rest from the tiniest bit of turbulence. I have also become amazingly proficient with packing luggage. For example, my current trip to Seattle. I will be here for 10 days but instead of checking a large bag that comfortably fits many a clothing option to satisfy my fashion slut needs…I choose option small; as in 'carry on'. The trick, I've learned, is to wear the bulkiest items onto the plane. In my case, my big motor boots, sweater, thick socks, scarf and pea coat. Please see exhibit A:

1 pair heels
1 pair vans
4 pair jeans
6 t-shirts
2 vests
2 purses
1 flat iron
1 PJ
14 pair undies(always need clean undies. what happens if you get in an accident?)
9 pair socks
3 sweaters
1 Skirt
4 dress shirts
2 ties
1 hat 1 beanie 1 belt
2 tanks
cosmetics bag

I am highly impressed with myself, hence this post; its all to feed my ego for my packing victory.

Sandstorm Slut

2010-02-10T21:48:00.000-08:00

My loving man Sam plays in a fantastically talented band, of which I do not fully know the name, as the little punk eluded to maybe The Sons but who knows(probably thinks "Well if I tell you, there would be no mystique left about me and what fun would that be? Now be a good woman and fetch me a whiskey and PBR"). UPDATE: Sleepy Suns. Check them out, amazing

I'm super excited about what they're doing and I know I'm not the only one. So I'm going to write about one of their songs in particular: Sandstorm Woman. This is an intensely sexy song that has a feel of classic rock with a mixture of moody strong guitars and a dash of some blues upbringing. From the early unraveling of the song with the devilish woman's laugh taunting you, you know you're in for a ride. I can't help but think of Zeppelin's "Since I've been loving you" which also exudes raw bluesy emotion and strong guitars; basically, shit you can get naked and dirty to.

Permit me a rant to get my point of sexuality across...

Men, imagine an incredibly sexy woman of your desires giving you a private dance...intimate. She'd be dancing to this song; slowly slinking towards you, guided by the slow drum beats. She drops to her knees in front of you, only to climb up your legs, using her body against yours; conducting electricity through the tension. She keeps eye contact all the while she ascends. You can feel her heat as see makes your dream a reality...

Back to the song...

Most of the song has a slow gyrating rhythm, begging you to move your hips hypnotically, swaying from side to side, eyes closed as singers Rachel and Bret croon and wail pure sex into your Temporal Cortex...at the 5:30 mark of the song, the tempo picks up into a faster kick you out of you daze, rock. He screams and you can envision her bent over howling into the microphone while gripping it by the throat. By that point of the song, if you're not completely out of your mind aroused, you're either 80, out of Viagra or dead. At the 7:11 mark, the drums become primal and then the song just escalates further into an all out fuck you jam session.

Whatever fantasy this song aids you for tickle time; be it a feverish make-out session or sex, it has an undeniable raw feeling of existence and the invisible push to make you move

Please check out their live performance video here:

http://cliquebang.blogspot.com/2010/01/sandstorm-slut-sam-says.html

They have posted a lot of live performances on their blog; it's the top link from my page, Cliquebang. Definitely go and check them out, spread the word.

A gloomy rainy day song

2010-01-20T09:24:00.000-08:00

Good trippy and pretty song with beautiful accoustic guitar melodies, for grey skies and sad hearts. Goldfrapp's "Montser Love"

"I never thought I would return
To be consumed by you again
Think you're cured, you'd see it come
The folly of a monster love like you

Grey is good, the light is good
We went down to Hollywood
You only get one chance in Tinsel Town
I save the part, the sweetest part shook for you

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Never thought I would return
To be consumed by you again
But I know a paper moon
The folly of a monster love like you

The pavement smell just after rain
The sun leaps out, it's clear again
I told you how I felt the earth could move
The folly of a monster love like you

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around
Bringing us back again
Here is where we start
And where we end

Everything comes around"

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I was always the cool car

2010-01-18T20:33:00.000-08:00

When we played Monopoly growing up

(The Lovely Bones is intensely engaging. Good for keeping one's thoughts from entering the engulfing arms of sadness)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A little rain and So Cal shuts down

2010-01-18T18:41:00.000-08:00

Torrential rains and gusty winds hit the hills near my grandmother's compound today and knocked a tree down, causing a power outage...I guess good a time as any to do a little reading by candle light while I "sit" gran...
Not like she's gonna talk to me anyway...

(dinner...half a egg salad sammie with asiago cheese, chips and beer. Very healthy :)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

2009 Acid Reflux

2010-01-06T13:58:00.000-08:00

I frequently ramble like a raving lunatic inside my head but getting me to sit down and make sense of these rambles on paper is something of a different monster. I often come up with my most in depth insights in the car, drifting off to sleep or other inopportune places that don't allow for me to transcribe them. I get distracted easily and then my best thought golden nuggets of wisdom that even Ghandi would be proud of, are flushed down to mediocrity. I've thought about using the voice recorder on my iPhone, but frankly the sound of my own voice is worse than Sarah Palin's values.(granted, I used said iPhone for my presentation for school; it's tits-like hand tossed warm ooey gooey slice of pizza at two am to soak up your functioning alcoholism)

As I sit here and map out the game plan for 2010, I've been reflecting on the past malay of activities of 2009...

The new year started with a shadow of my grandfather's death in December of 08 and some healing after an old relationship. Nevertheless, I had hopes for a new year of accomplishments, taking my heart into my own hands and obtaining a love beyond my expectations. Also to just fucking live without regrets; roll with the punches; learn; stop being scared.

One day as I sat at the desk of my droll job, I decided enough was enough. Why waste my days falling asleep at my desk, counting the minutes and my splits ends, until my favorite chat buddy hopped online to help me past the day. Fuck this shit, I'm going to do something with myself. Thus, after 14 years, I decided to finally go to college. The decision was made towards the beginning of the year and after that, it was a landslide of speeding proportion and I started in the summer. Along with that decision came the fact that I would be leaving my beloved Seattle for a new adventure of San Francisco; another city I adore.

Unfortunately in April, I received a phone call while I sat in my car in a grocery store parking lot. Unsettling news delivered from my brother as I discovered my uncle was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. My body let loose and I balled. You think about all things with an ending when faced with death, even if not your own. The fact that, yes, life is far too fucking short and 'what the hell have I been wasting my life on?'. I decided to vacate the Emerald Isle much sooner than anticipated. I made it back to my hometown in the beginning of June to a once burly looking dude, who had now become a delicate man who exclaimed "I'm gonna beat this shit". He passed a few weeks later... luckily I had those precious few weeks with him. Steve was a good man, a gnarly looking biker dude, with a long ponytail as well as beard entangled with greys but true to his heart in protecting his kin...My mother lost one of her good friends in her brother that day.

I only planned on being south for a few months but unfortunately funding for school was scarce and my presence was apparently an aid in my mother's sanity as she begun to take care of her third family member to their death...her mother. knowing that my mother has gone from caring for her aunt after a stroke, her father, her brother-to death and now her mother...its not to hard to see why I would hang around more. Granted, the washing of dishes, household chores and sometimes yard work doesn't seem like much but I do what I can.

You may think to yourself "this could be a fun situation to fuck around with someone who has Alzheimer's". Like: "hey gran, over there. No not me, no, the other me. remember?" She however, is not a fun and wacky victim of the mind loss...she's a viper. Nevertheless, you try to deal, cope, dig deep for the patience to not bitch slap a frail old woman who accuses you of all the missing and wrong doings things around her.

some excerpts:
Imagine if you will a shrunken 80 year old woman, cane in one hand, two fingers lifted in a gun gesture with the other, telling you "you can wipe with your own fingers for all i care!"; in response to the usage of the toilet paper.

(father and I drew this in our frustrations. Yes, I'm sure we'll burn in Hell...if Hell existed)

or
"does all she do is wash the dishes and put them in the rack? that's it?!". Why no gran, I also fart platinum unicorn dust on them, which magically makes all your food taste better.

Please excuse the bald spot on my head. While you're at it, ignore the wad of my hair in my fist too. After the anger subsides, all I can do is laugh it off and try to make the best. Bottom line, losing your mind has got to be a frustrating and extremely scary situation to deal with. Sad.

As for me, I continue with my head down and power forward. It would seem this vagabond life is taking its toll on my back...the couch and floor surfing and the stress of being around an unhappy family can put one's mindset into a dark place; dour; moody. Seattle calls to me as does San Francisco...I love them both. Southern California is a bad break up gone awry; I need to flee again...but I must be patient...must; my time is nearing with the turn of the new day/year/decade. Fuck this struggling.

However, I did indeed find an amazing person who stole my heart...through ups and downs; fights and flights; he's been an amazing presence and ear to my plight. I am happy to finally be in school. So it wasn't a total negative year...it just had some MAJOR speed bumps.

So this year I'm not doing resolutions because I know what needs to be done: school, move, get my own space again to freely walk around nude eating some Hagan Daas with a beer chaser...and a bed, sweet glorious naked Matthew Goode-give me a bed again...I'm going to focus on what I want to do: travel more, do more art and kiss the man of my heart's desire

To my circumstances and mindset, I dedicate Celebration's "Holiday"...it's kind of speaking my words in a song...

"These days are dark.
I lack the spark, to shine, to find my mind baby,
and I'm too sharp, to play the part for you.
For you... where do all my rubies shine?
I paid the devil to lose my mind.
And these days, these days are black as coal.
I imagine my lost soul...
away on some paid holiday.
Ahh, it's ok if it's not far away, away
Babe, what happens to us now?
I lost my will to shout, to dig my body out.
For this loss, Oh lord i paid the cost...
and for this pain, my gentle soul remains away on some paid holiday.
Ahh, it's ok if it's not far away, away.
Time beats so slow... these days are dark.
And I'm too sharp to play the part for you...
for you... where do all my rubies shine?
I paid the devil to lose my mind.
And these days are black as coal.
I imagine my lost soul away on some paid holiday.
Ahh, it's ok if it's not far away, away.
I know there is one way, to bring it on down now.
Here we are.
No matter where we start, I'll always be apart from my unbroken heart,
and so you keep me close, what matters to you most is that I'll stay.
Bring it on down now.
Where do all my rubies shine?"

OMFG-there's a kid on your leg!

2009-12-11T21:33:00.000-08:00

So I’m an auntie….it’s true. My brother, who like me, was very adamant about disliking the parasite nation of children much like myself, decided a handful of years ago to feel his mortality. I know, I know, but it’s true. So here we are, 5 years later, and I am a very proud auntie of a 5year-old-something nephew. Yes. I am Auntie M. As a very proud auntie, I support my blood by going to his functions; more specifically…his first on-stage-mortifying-force-you-to-participate-class-function sing along ‘Jingle Bells’ bullshit. He is adorable, truth. I babysit my uber smart nephew once a week...but in all reality, I think my brother does it in hopes of me disliking the parasite nation a little less…

So me, loving my nephew, must attend my beloved blood rite’s first public humiliation situation…a Christmas sing song something or other. I must admit (between you and me) that shit was fucking adorable. It slightly pulled at my uterus strings. TRUTH. Shhh, it’s a secret (since I’m really not in the mood for kids any time soon). A bunch of kindergarten and first graders singing some festive song…my nephew not really caring; just wishing the shit was over-I could totally see it in his eyes. He was me at that age. My brother has been blessed with a child, that in essence, got me as a child; poor bastard-BUT-but...the minute that kid comes up to me and latches onto my leg, I gotta admit…

I LOVE being an auntie.

(look for the translucent child that glows in the dark. That's my fam)

(best looking kid in the whole world. don't trip, you know its truth)

Theatre!

2009-11-15T19:26:00.000-08:00

Interesting views from my lovely friend's loft of downtown LA's Tower Theatre and The Knife...peaceful melancholy kaleidoscope bliss

I adore the way 'theatre' still makes itself known through a murky swamp of rusted colors; lingering just below the surface...

Riverslime

2009-11-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

Sometimes the disgusting desert does reward us with some beautiful blue fall days; those clear days tend to grace us after a much needed smog enema by the Santa Ana's.

Days like these, it's good to hop on my trusty 10geared steed, armed with my iPhone and some peppy Matt & Kim soundtrack music

historic cemetery

Mission Inn (Sunday brunch is a glutenous heaven)

Private cliff walkway to big ass home

(you can own this beauty for a mere $602k 7bed, 5bath)

tick tock

2009-11-05T20:57:00.000-08:00

May I just say...Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" is a depressing kick-you-in-the-ribs-while-you're-down-in-the-dumps-anthem...when you're sitting there mind occupied on a far off land of cold and loneliness.

Coffee would prolly help

busy time heals all wounds

*except, I can't seem to keep busy enough to fully heal

Never Be Like Yesterday

2009-09-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

When I paint, I typically listen to melancholy moody borderline slit your wrist, music. Not because I want to fillet my dainty woman wrist but because I paint women of strong emotion. Vive Voce's "Never Be Like Yesterday", has beautiful building piano work that invokes an almost serene image...until you get to the lyrics, you don't realize how sad this song is and how you can feel the writer's frustrations over fighting with a love one. We've all been there...

This song came on this morning and tugged at me a bit. It, as well as the whole album, is highly suggested:

"So here comes the morning sun,

and I can't believe that we're not done.

My eyes are swollen - face is numb...

...am I still talking?

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way

Guess I'll be the bigger man

and drive my point till it's dead

Make you see where it went wrong

So we can stay up all night long

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way

So when it comes to push and shove

the knives come out before the gloves

and all the hits below the belt

still hurt long after they're dealt

But it's never gonna be like yesterday

Cause we can't fight that way"

Into the great big open...

2009-08-23T11:50:00.000-07:00

Nomad-an individual who roams about

in my 31 plus years on this earth, I can say, I'm not quite sure where my wanderlust completely comes from...my balls and utter asshole persona comes from my mother and father. I've lived, at least in my head, a fulfilling life before the point I even reached 30. Two houses owned, a husband by 20, divorced by 26, a zealous love for pills at 18, first drunk at 14 and bringing food home to help feed the family before 18. People have lived far worst and people have lived far less; none of which is unimportant, its all on how you learn the lessons...

I wander. At some point around 26-27, I had this fantastically lame brained idea that buying an RV and exploring my home country working odd jobs for fuel and food cash, would be a fabulous idea. Being a nomad sounded so romantic and exciting. Bring it on back to the now; me, bored shit less working a desk job at head cellular company, writing over 600 reviews on Yelp.com and starting up to 3 blogs, all to sustain the mind numbing self consuming brain deteriorating rot that had become my life, all from my desk at $20 per hour rate. the point of all this babble? I realized my life is dull and unsatisfying. I enroll in an art school i drooled over in high school, shit hits the fan with the family and i pack up and leave Seattle for the familiar confines of California. More shit hits the fan in useless boring details that don't really matter, suffice to say...I am now...a nomad.

Long story short, I must live the simple life of poverty and do school online until I can get full funding. I am sleeping on couches and floors. Don't cry for me Argentina...er Riverside. It was rough at first but after a few months, you get in a groove. I am embracing this life of nomad, no home, go where I please(literally randomly getting off an exit to drive through a random cute town), see what I want but all for a price...and there is no longer a hurry for me to be in one place anymore.

Life from your trusty modern day steed, the car, is one of long in depth conversations with your soul. You notice more...fresh cut fields through Oregon; the way life coats the green in Washington, a wet organic smell you just want to soak through your very pores; having the ocean's scent carried through a breeze and hitting your senses; randomness on every corner of your ocular view. I've had friends say I'm lucky to have the freedom to up and go, as well as the balls to leave everything behind. This life in a car becomes a rolling motion picture on all four corners of your metal steed. 80+mph becomes the norm, 55-60+mph becomes a crawl. You for tell the best spots for cops. You learn that baby wipes and an iPod are your best friends and you wish that you had a better camera with an amazing lens to capture it all on paper and not just your mind's eye.

Heartless Bastards "Into the Open" has become my nomad theme song:

I just want to go

But I didn't wanna let go

I just want to go

But I didn't wanna let go

And I find myself

In a fleeting moment

Traveling far and wide

To the great big open

Things are coming into focus

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

All of this time I was searching

Searching for my home

And I discovered

Home is where I am

And I find myself

Here in the meadow

Of a great divide

And in the moment

Things are coming into focus

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

I've got wind in my face

And it's getting me on

All of this time I was searching

Searching for my home

And I discovered

Home is where I am

Coulrophobia

2009-07-12T18:02:00.000-07:00

So I've gone and done it...joined the circus, became a carnie and gave up my corporate threads to live life as a vagabond, hustling unsuspecting spectators as the incredible tattooed lady, living a peaceful life with my incredible tattooed boyfriend and tattooed dog. Never mind that I secretly draw on more tattoos than I actually have with my Prismacolor markers; just don't get me wet, kthx!

In this circus, they have offered me an opportunity to improve my lifestyle by studying art and fashion. I think they're secretly hoping I will design and produce all new costumes for the troupe. Perhaps a classier look will bring more ticket sales, but in all honestly, I'm not sure I can make the fat lady attractive; not to mention the amount of fabric they'd have to buy for her costume...lordie.

(my sister Carla, makes the best fried chicketn)

So I have started classes online, yes, the carnie's have wifi, it is 2009 after all. Classes seem to be going well, I'm not favoring one teacher in particular and I've had to turn down offers from our resident snake charmer to leave her a slithering present...

(Thurston's Ironic mustache gets all the ladies)

(Bob is popular in the gay community)

You thought I was joking...

2009-04-29T11:18:00.000-07:00

In my previous post, I thought I was joking too...

low and behold, my little discovery under my bed...

UNICORN BITCHES!!!

North American Scum

2009-04-21T16:16:00.000-07:00

If you’re in need of some upbeat music you can shake your booty to, while doing the tediously horrendous task of packing your living quarters…

May I suggest?
LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver

I have written about this group before, the brain child of James Murphy…I believe it was one of my first posts, in fact. Any who…highly recommended you see them live, all instruments played and a wee bonnie lass on the turn tables. WORD

I would also like to give a big “WHAT UP” shout out to the FREE Seattle periodical “The Stranger”. They are being highly supportive in my move by supplying me with their loving arms of FREE paper to wrap my stuff in.

So here’s to you, tranny section: for wrapping your loving crossed gendered legs around my breakables

Here’s to you, tranny section: for laying your testical-breast-living-cohesively-on-one-body, around my sentimental crap because I’m too much of a pack rat to truly just throw my shit out to the less fortunate...who, lets face it, could CLEARLY use, a porcelain unicorn on their nightstand

Here’s to you Stranger: for providing me with the too perfect asses of those trannies with the horrific boob jobs, bad make up and sometimes surprisingly big packages, for my entertainment while I handle the shitty task of once again, packing my brick a brack on the road to nomad land.

You’re supper duper

You already know, how this will end...

2009-03-12T16:52:00.000-07:00

Music is to me, what it is to probably everyone…a place card or a folded page for a bookmark in time. We get pleasant or not so pleasant remembrances of moments past and cherished, when a marker reaches our ears again. Unfolding something we may have forgotten….or pushed down. It materializes like a mist…”oh yeah, I remember when”.

Sometimes a song can play perfectly to a moment, like your own personal soundtrack. Case in point: leaving on a rushed flight from San Francisco back to Seattle. My mind was a writhing tape worm feeding on my congested thoughts, gorging and producing yet more thoughts in its waste. The whole flight was spent staring out my window above the clouds, thinking, thinking….thinking. What’s next? I must admit, I’ve forced myself into the notion of ‘nomad’ by packing a van and leaving California. Even moving to Seattle, a city I’ve loved for as long as I can remember, I still found it difficult to get a stronghold; or roots, making it truly feel like home. I don’t believe I ever thought Washington as my final resting place. And as such, I’ve trashed about in my mind as to how long I would stay and the realization that this move, this destination, is nothing but a stepping stone to the next thing in my quest for happiness. Ultimately, it’s been a reboot for me; an adventure, a much needed break from the norm.

What does this have to do with music? As the plane descended through the clouds, Devotchka’s “How it Ends” began to play with its familiar organ notes, joined by accordion, joined by piano…building and building. I use to get excited flying into Seattle, this time I felt sadness. Having just spent a comfortable weekend in the bay area soaking up some much needed sun; I was reminded what it felt like to be on the California coastline, in a city I have always harbored a joy for…once this song came on, I just felt sadness. Yes, I do know how this ends…it ends with me moving, yet again.

Just when this song reaches a strong point with Nick Urata belting out (plane descending) “aaaand you already know…how…this…will end”, (plane descending) “YOU ALREADY KNOW...how this will end”(tires thudding) the plane touched down perfectly on that last note: “end”; violins picking up and carrying you to the finish. Perfect ending to my silent anguished thoughts; what next Mel? I’m still figuring out the fine details, but nomad is once again in my future.

No fears, just titillation for yet another adventure. I do however feel restlessness for something new to begin, things to unfold, desires to be met, dreams of happiness to come to fruition. Whereas Arcade Fire was my exit music from California…I am thinking Devotchka will be my usher out of Washington. To be precise, “the Last Beat of my Heart” seems fitting for such an emotional movement…Washington has a special spot in my heart, until that last beat

Broken Social Scene 2/5/09-Showbox Sodo

2009-03-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

"If you always get up late, you’ll never be on time..."

(strength in numbers)

I know on this blog (aside from making up the occasional word) I like to throw around the word ‘full’ as a description for a band’s sound pretty freely like a game of “Keep the Hooker’s Peg Leg Away”. Well seeing as how I have no professional knowledge of music, let alone completely knowing how to play an instrument…it goes without saying that my vocabulary is a bit lax on the subject. So here I go armed with a dandy thesaurus…let’s count how many times I use the word ‘full’ in this entry.

After beginning my night at Neumo’s with a few cocktails and beers snuck out of the VIP room…I hastily ran off to Showbox Sodo. The show was sold out, maxed to the gills but luckily for me, a very special, spectacular young man, had put a ticket aside for me. He belongs on the cover of a Wheaties box, that one.

My companion for the evening was a bonnie lass; a pistol; a firecracker, and my tour guide of enjoyment. Where I was still a bit naive on the BSS tip(yes, I'm well aware of joys Wikipedia), she was teeming with experience of their voluminous musical library…at one point screaming “No pressure boys!!! NO PRESSURE” and me, along with a few others, judging by their looks, sitting there going “wow, she’s a bit harsh on the band” until they started playing and it became clear as an obvious shout out to the band “AHHHHHH(big animated a-HA face, by me). Then again, she could have jumped up on stage and pissed on their amp and it really wouldn’t have offended my snarky ass. Rock on girl, do your thang!!!

When the first guitar cords of KC Accidental struck, strong and loud backed by powerful drums, blasting my pleading eardrums, I was instantly blown and given chills. Both Showbox locations invoke an internal battle with me; sometimes bands sound great, sometimes like banshees screeching in a pillow fight. Not the case this night…this band was a pure spot on delight tickling my love bone. I dare say their performance has kicked up a new romance from me towards them…several of their songs cause me to shut my eyes, shake my head and absorb the full meal they are offering me…In fact I’m doing it now at my desk to “Stars and Sons”, my coworkers are laughing…because yes, I am clapping along. WHAAAA?!

BSS had about 32 members on the stage; ok, more like 10 or so, with a high kicking chorus line, a couple of dancing Orangutans and a donkey. To say their cup runneth over, might be an understatement. Alas, with all those peeps on stage, they give you a sound capable of gorging your ears with gooey goodness; horns, vocals, melodies ranging on ambient, girls, guys, guitar strategery, drum beats…It’s easy to get caught up in their bursting vibe of fun times, allowing your body to let loose and move to the music. I must admit, my shit totally spillith over, when they played Shoreline; dipping my head down, eyes closed and swayed to the music. Heaven.

(cell phone Chuck Norris attack)

Unfortunately for us, the show was cut short, as we had previous obligations back at Neumo’s for a friend’s performance. Nevertheless, I enjoyed a full hour’s date with the group and I can say with a high degree of certainty, that I will see them again, the next time they are within proximity of my old ass.

(FYI, I said “full” 9 times. Not too shabby)

Neko Case, Triple Door, KEXP concert 1/25/09

2009-01-25T16:27:00.000-08:00

The skies are grey, my breath is visible and the snowflakes are falling...the kind of weather that perpetuates my sour mood. To quote a very talented musician from a favorite song: I might just lay down right here, in the traffic and die

So I sat and contemplated attending the KEXP VIP Neko Case concert, but in the end, it was the fact that I paid a generous donation to the radio organization for my membership, that won me over. So I braved the bitter Seattle weather wrapped in my favorite commie jacket and scarf, occasionally inhaling snowflakes up my nose(cold boogers, not cool).

I've said it before and I'll say it again...The Triple Door is an amazing place to see a show. The sound is stellar and the venue offers the intimacy of no bad seat in the place. Unfortunately for me, my date with Neko was a constant interruption of smack smack chomp chomp SNAP of the bitch next to me with her gum...She was a couple of feet away, but I shit you not, it was like she was in my left ear. I spent the majority of the show with my finger in my ear. I just couldn't shut her out otherwise:
Neko: "Hangin' round (chomp chomp[some pretty melody I have no fucking clue]SNAP CHOMP!)the time... hold on, hold on, hold on!"(pretty harmony with back up singer Kelly[SNAP!])

You know...I contemplated saying something to her, but how do you politely say "hey lady, cows are more quiet with their cud than you", without seeming bitchy or dealing with possible retribution? You never fully appreciate your own hearing and the full range of enjoyment TWO ears can give you, until you're reduced to just one.

Overall, the show was amazing. I have only a small familiarity with her music from what I am exposed to on KEXP. However, I enjoyed every song she played today and was rather bummed out when it was over a mere 30 minutes later; a decent amount of songs, but short in their entirety. Neko has a great repertory with her back up singer(I believe Kelly is her name) and they make quite the comedy duo. When a string broke on her lead guitarist instrument, she and her singer entertained the crowd with sarcasms, audience questions and overall great comic delivery. A good amount of the songs are from her upcoming album that will be released March 3rd. When she goes on tour and hits up Seattle sometime in June, I will be attending...

Set List:

Middle Cyclone

People Gotta Lotta Nerve

Don't Forget Me

I'm an Animal

Hold on, Hold on

Vengeance is Sleeping

The Next Time You Say "Forever"

That Teenage Feeling

Of the whole set "That Teenage Feeling" was my favorite:

"Now that we've met

We can only laugh at these regrets

Common as a winter cold

They're telephone poles

They follow each other

One, after another, after another

But now my heart is green as weeds

Grown to outlive their season

And nothing comforts me the same

As my brave friend who says,

"I don't care if forever never comes'

Cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling

I'm holding out for that teenage feeling"

All the loves we had

All we ever knew

Did they fill me with so many secrets

That keep me from loving you'

Cause it's hard, hard"

A line that stuck with me (for personal reasons) throughout the show, from "Don't forget me"(which was also amazing):

"Nothing lasts forever, but I'll always love you"

Her music is great and her lyrics can cut you to the core, like they are your own personal anthem. Worth checking out

Devotchka NYE

2009-01-02T09:49:00.000-08:00

(my dates for the evening)

Ahhh New Years…the time when you reflect on the past year’s pitfalls like broken cars, broken relationships and uphill battles. The time when you reflect on the past year’s good like your beautiful surroundings, good friends, loved ones and the promise of new hope and a chance at fulfilling love. The big night when you wish you had someone special to share it with. Alas, I found myself single again, although this time, I didn’t have the flu with a wicked fever and the added kick you while I’m down factor of being at a wedding(no offense Tim). I did however have the support of some good friends (Brian/Lizzy, Kyle/Trish and Anna), an awesome band and a cute outfit that showed off my strong shoulders and apparently sexy clavicles. Oh oh, there was even a new acquaintance to the group that hung with us that told me this:

“You don’t look like somewhat who writes the way you do; you look classy”
Me=classy?…I have fooled the world MUAHAHAHAHHAAH

There was a DJ and an opening act but what I remember of both is this:
DJ: I’m bored; I think I’ll grab a PBR. Holy fuck, for serious, you’re gonna charge me $4 for a beer that is worth a $1.50?!! Bastards. Yeah, I’m not huge on live DJ stuff…oh look it that, a dude spinning some records. YAWN
Opening band: I was so impressed that their name is embedded into my soft grey Cerebral Cortex…not so much. They weren’t bad or untalented, I was just preoccupied with the night’s earlier bummer events and I was on a crash course with booze and a determination of fun. I can say two nice things about this band: A. chick drummers rule B. the singer wore a wicked vintage blood red cowboy shirt with black accents and roses (fashion is my secret little drug). They really did have some good stuff though, but alas, sorry the name escapes me.

In all honesty, I was there for Devotchka and anything else was just filler. So as mentioned earlier…crash course with booze.
Me+booze+no eating since noon that day=obnoxious

While I was enjoying my refreshing classy grade A quality PBR, I enjoyed a chills inducing shot of Whiskey with Brian…cough, pirate squinty face, hairs standing on end, ‘oh my god what was I thinking?!’…smooth. Blarg. Let the good times roll and while I’m at it, may I introduce…asshole Mel! I was determined to have a good time, so out rolled the dirty jokes, pirate talk, insults and my wacky self; anything to entertain my friends(some would say, the need of adoration of loved ones to fulfill one’s self)
Me=NOT classy

When Devotckha took the stage, I was a little disappointed in the lack of back up strings, like at the Sodo show earlier this year. I guess they raised the bar for me early on. They’re still an energy filled rocking show, but I guess I was expecting them to pull all the punches with a full supporting band, little chicas whirling and twirling from the ceiling and some rockets or some shit; it being NYE and all. The sound wasn’t all that great this time around either. I have a love hate relationship with the Showbox Market. On the one hand they book some great acts and have an awesome venue, where you’ve got good views from all angles with its intimacy. On the other hand, their sound is hit or miss; this night, it was kind of a miss. Nonetheless, the show still rocked and they played an impressive song list. I danced a lot, so much so that I got a side cramp (I need to get back to the gym) and managed to stay vertical in my heels with minimal grabbing of friends for support.

(it's just not a post unless I have a shitty cell phone attack shot)

By the end of the show I managed to ingest 1 PBR, 1 shot of Whiskey, ¾ cup of ESB and ¾ of my vodka drink; not a great deal, but enough with no food. I forget that I can’t drink like I used to and thus was securely tipsy. While in line for my coat pick up with my buddy, I took off my heel and threatened a line cutter. Something along these lines:
“Hey fratty fat popped collar fuck face, my heel is going in your eye if you don’t get in the back of the line” yeah…
Me=embarrassment

By 2ish in the am, with several failed attempts at finding a fast food joint to fill our boozed bellies, we settled on a wiener stand in Fremont. A mere 14 hours later, my stomach was finally filled with a boar’s dog, topped with grilled onion, mustard and cream cheese (you can only love it while drunk) and I passed out snug in my bed to end my shitty day and leave my shitty struggling year behind me.

Here’s to new hopes, new adventures, finally having no car payment, a new chest piece tattoo and my new motto… “Love like you’ve never been hurt”

Bring it.

Me=ready for it all

Random rant...Christmas Eve

2008-12-24T11:36:00.000-08:00

Tis colder than a witches’ tit here in Seattle…yeah, I’m not sure what that really means either. Are witches prone to being chilly because one assumes they’re godless heathens? Is it because their houses are made from candy of which I’m pretty sure, that shit doesn’t provide proper insulation. Or perhaps it’s because they like to frolic about naked and have lots and lots of sex and drink themselves silly…or so I’ve read in the history book, but I’m sure things get lost in translation…

Where was I? Oh yes, its fucking cold here and we’ve been getting pounded with snow in the city. Lucky me, my wagon is stuck under a healthy amount of snow and I have been banished to the busing system, yet again. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m dying to drive with the rest of the witless wonders of this city, but a 3 hour commute to work is a bit much. A little bit of snow and this city shuts up quicker than a virginal teenage book nerd clamping her knees together at a high school party. Prude.

(wagon is under there somewhere)

With long travels, comes my little retreat into my tiny haven of music being pumped through itsy speakers to my awaiting core …Lately, my iPod has been favoring Devothcka and its been getting me amped for the up coming NYE show. This morning thank god for the loud tuba, horns, violins and strong Latin guitar, because it mostly drowned out that of a demonic little bastard being, literally, dragged by his mother onto the bus. This little shit refused to walk and was screaming at the top of his lungs like he was being beat with barbed razor wire. She tried to sit him down and he refused to sit, of course, and thus pulled a perfect summersault over the side of the seat, worthy of Special Olympics gold medal, and landed squarely on his head. I laughed. Hard. She eventually took him to the back of the bus where he continued to wail, but I was sweetly involved with Devotckha and mentally figuring out how I’m going to dress up like a saucy wench for my big night out with friends. Woot.

Perfectly pointless entry, but I mostly wanted to remark on the spawn doing a flip onto his head. I’m still laughing; yes, I’m evil.

2008-10-24T11:46:00.000-07:00

So snow season is upon here in the chilly Northwest, and with winter’s frigid fingers tap tap tapping on our back door, comes the onslaught of Action Snow Films. One that has had much hype is Travis Rice’s epic “That’s it, That’s All”. With an over $2mill price tag, the info that they used the uber pricey steady cameras that were used for Lord of the Rings and the teasers that were released months before the movie dates were set…it stood to reason that this film would be the Ace of all Aces.

I’ve been known to slack…a lot, and my procrastination on getting tickets for this film, bit me in the ass. The day of, I was left with nothing but shops informing me that it had been sold out, and that I was a jack ass for waiting so long. Fuck all. Thankfully a buddy of mine is a buyer for a local store and pulled a miracle; cause as I told him, his popularity would get tickets into the event before my tits would; and I was right. He got the last two LibTech reps’ tickets. And it only cost me a coffee, a vodka redbull and standing in a very crowded theater.

Here’s my simple take on the movie:
Chills. It could’ve been Serengeti hot up in that bitch; with me sweating gallons of my precious fluids and I still would’ve gotten chills from this movie.

When asked by the LibTech Rep(sponsor) of what I thought of the film I answered with a tally of times I said the following:
OH MY GAWD=14
FUCK=33
Oh wow=9
Utterly AMAZING=3

I think hair actually rose on my neck when I saw Jeremy Jones drop down, what seemed to be a completely vertical, mountain peak in Valdez Alaska. He was booking, one fuck up and he would be toast. Utterly amazing (that makes 4)

Of all the snow movies I’ve seen, this one by far is the most epic. I don’t think anyone else is going to touch it unless they’ve got one killer budget. Even then, can you top Rice’s flawless stunts or Jones’ high speed vertical runs?

I think its pointless for me to try and attempt the names of the stunts they were pulling, 1090 this, triple axle with a groin twist that…just know that it was a lot of sick shit being pulled off; it was matched with a pretty spectacular soundtrack and the visuals were phenomenal. Buy the movie, just do it, it’s great and sure to amp you for the upcoming season for attempting to emulate the pros and prolly breaking yourself in the process.

http://www.thatsit-thatsall.com/

ahhhh the lazy life

2008-10-23T17:19:00.000-07:00

Where have you been? I’ve been fighting the good fight in a galaxy far far away along side other Jedi Masters….ok, so I’ve been, a straight up now tell me, asshole for not writing in two months; but ya know, work and stress and life and blah blah blah, shut the fuck up Mel. Yeah, I know, lame; but honest and for-truly, I’ve got like 4 entries I’m preparing dear readers…all 3 of you.

So while I search the words to paint a visual picture of the following bands: Cold War Kids, We Are Scientists, Kings of Leon and NKOTB-that’s right-NEW KIDS ON THE MUTHA FUCKIN BLOCK BEYOTCHES-DON’T TRIP; I thought I would wax a bit on my history with music and why exactly it moves me the way it does.

So a long long time ago…in the early 80’s I was knee high to me da’s knee; and when I wasn’t grabbing his beers for sips, I was either signing along to he and his buddies ‘jamming’ or somewhere very near by listening. They played covers, mostly I believe, and I say this because I don’t rightfully recall them playing original music. At any rate, due to the cover-nisity (fuck yes, I make up words like forshizzle) of it all, I became quite fond of the classics like: The Beatles, Zep, Mac, Fucking Eagles, and many many others.

I was such a ham that I would dig into those plastic little saucers called, say it with me history class- “albums”, and play things like Pointer Sisters and B52s while dancing around pretending I was either a soulful afro’d black woman or a red headed maven with a bee hive; and yes, I would “perform” for audiences of furniture or Bryer horses when my parents had no time for me.

I use to know how to read music; built chops to play clarinet…John Lennon’s “Imagine” was my first song learned on the piano…so too was Beatles learnt on the guitar. But fuck all if I don’t remember how to do any of that shit now.

At any rate, growing up in a house where the men; pops and bro, would play guitar and me and moms would hum along, gave me an appreciation for the craft. I associate, as most do, music with moods, moments, feelings and situations; thus the stuff moves me, saddens me, lifts me up, or helps me be bitter road ragger on the highways of So Cal.

so just a little tid bit of myself and my history...a real tiny tid bit, because this well runs deep-so deep it'll put your butt to sleep

Gotta love the 80's or 70's, who know. rad Pampers though

the year 1989. Me, in a training bra

2008-08-28T12:06:00.000-07:00

I’m bored…yep, at work; surprise. I was sitting here, day dreaming underneath a late summer stormy/cold sky, about fluffy snow and the realization that time if flying way too fast, as it’s already September. Then GNR came on my iPod and I started wondering when Axl is going to release Chinese Noodles or Laundry or Republic or whatever his mythical beast he keeps trying to feed to us over the past 50years as actuality but we all KNOW it’s a figment of his holey doped out ex rocker brain! Which in turn, got me to thinking about my first concert; the connection? It was Guns N Roses. The year: 1989 LA Coliseum, opening act Living Color; headliner, on again off again geriatric retirees, The Rolling Stones; and GNR smack dab in the middle. Not bad for a band that was on their sophomoric album follow up to mega Appetite release, Lies. 89, that’s my 6th grade year, if you’re curious. Nobody ever said my stoner 70’s rock/earthy parents were the Cleavers or made the best upbringing decisions. At least it wasn’t Debbie Gibson.

I give props to Living Color for being a talented rarity, an African American metal/rock band (see how PC I am?) in a land of big hair butt rock; like: Warrant, Brtny Fox and Poison, to name a few. But I’m not whole heartedly knocking the expensive European extensions wearing Rock of Love failure front man Brett Michaels band; cause my bff does have their greatest hits album and yes after many MANY years of a blissful Poison free existence, we still remember all the words. Probably not the best thing to admit

*Side Note* I had actually wanted to go to Boingo's farewell tour that year but wasn’t allowed to because my evil 6year older brother claimed that a sea of bewbies would be flashed; exposing my gentile eyes to unspeakable acts of ungodliness; yet I got to see Axl parading around in assless chaps and using fuck liberally. Good call pops, GNR was a MUCH more wholesome choice for my first concert experience. Is it any wonder why I walk around covered in tattoos and ghost holes from piercings?

They were rad, and thanks to singing along with “It’s So Easy”, I said ‘fuck’ for the first time in a lifelong onslaught, in front of my dad. From what my 11 year old brain remembers, they rocked it; but then again they were probably slurring in a heavily drugged/drunk induced haze, one cord away from projectile vomiting “OMFG Axl’s creamed corn is on my bra!!” on the groupies showing their titties in the front row (see bro, titties after all).

I don’t remember much of the stones themselves, but what I do remember is a majority of the crowd was there to see them. And while everyone was standing rocking out, my cousin Joel and I were passed out in our chairs. I do however remember standing up once or twice on my seat to catch a drift of what was going on; and being BLASTED by the sound of their music. Seriously, as I sat down, the surrounding people actually blocked the music enough that it sounded like I was listening to the stones from outside the venue. But if you’ve seen footage, I can sum it up like this: Jagger walks around, does some old mannish hip shaking dance/Idol-esque arm air punch; leans up against Richards and they both sing into the mic, while the other members look someone bored and dying for their ensure.

I may mock, but don’t worry, it hasn’t escaped me that one day, I too will be an ensure and vodka drinking granny with tattoos picking up on the youngest piece of meat that’ll give me the time of day; possibly with fake boobs at that point.

Hi, I'm Melissa!

2008-08-26T14:08:00.000-07:00

So Saturday found me bored, sitting in the corner of the unusually Hip Hop filled bar of the Cha Cha with D; one less of our trash talk trifecta, the 3rd who was joining later…At any rate, sitting at the bar, having D wrinkle her OCD nose at the fact I was nursing my cocktail, we took a break from the lively mocking of misguided Seattleite attire for the evening to discuss the infamous “Seattle Freeze”. The theory that the fine people of this city are that of cold hearted superior asshats that don’t want to give you courtesy, the time of day, or the spit out of their own mouth to save you from thirst in the Sahara.

Now, I didn’t think this legend was particularly true, as I have a hard time making nice and meeting people in the first place; shocking, but true. I didn’t realize the Freeze was actual until I became single, at which point I noticed it wasn’t so much a freeze as it was people were just fucking passive. I’m thinking it’s the lack of vitamin D from the lack of sun filling up them up with joy joy joy; where? Down in their hearts.

So as I’m sitting at the Cha Cha, I decide to conduct a little social experiment to make the night a little more entertaining (by that point, the clothing choices had become a little ridiculous and sad-who wears an off the shoulder orange mesh top with a pink lame Rizzo jacket?). So I started introducing myself with a handshake, to random strangers that came into range of my monkey arm length reach, just to see how they would react.

Victim #1
Me: “Hi, I’m Melissa!” (This would become my power play opener of the night)
V1: I’m Joel
Me: beg pardon?
V1: Joel
Me: It’s nice to meet you!
V1: I just got out of a 4 year relationship…
Me: I wasn’t-no, I was just being nice. Um, wow, I’m sorry dude
V1: it’s ok, it ended on a good note and we’re still friends its fine
Me: super

Victim #2
By this point, several people were trying to bypass the bar line to get service, at which the tender was turning them away
Me: Hi, I'm Melissa!
V2: nice to meet you (no name given)
Me: (undaunted) the bartender has been telling people to wait in line; I don’t know if you’ll have much luck (big cheesy smile)
V2: Oh, well, I work here, I figured he would. I’ll go to the other side to get help (and thus he sprints off, I presume, frightened but proceeds to stare at me with coworker; great, I’m back in high school)

Victim #3, 4, 5
V3: (to V4) I have to piss, order me a drink (I fail to introduce myself)
V4: (whines) I don’t KNOOOOW what to get him
Me: get him a shot of tekillya!!
V5: that’s racist. You assume because he’s Mexican, he’ll want tequila?!
Me: touché fucker, but I suggested it because we’re in a Mexican themed bar
V5: (says something else, trying to be clever about being half Pilipino/white and his right to being racist-blah blah blah; at this point I start to lose interest in him)
Me: Hi, I’m Melissa! (To both)
V4: I’m Holly!
V5: I’m Ryan
(Friend returns, I ignore and turn back to D)

Victim #6. Not really a victim, as he’s the bartender and his earned tricks are based off of his ass kissing personality.
Me: What’s your name?!
Tender: Joe!
Me: thanks for treating us to great service-PEACE OUT!

New bar, one last victim and the 3rd member to the trifecta, Anna, has arrived. Now, the last victim was by far the friendliest, but I’m guessing it’s because he was gay, and I’m not meaning in just the homosexual way, but in the intended way of the word’s roots, to be happy; cause fuck all, if he wasn’t one happy and friendly dude.
V7: I’m Chad!
And with that, he stayed and chatted with our table about chlorine, hair and a whole butt load of other stuff I can’t remember because it was close to last call and I was becoming quite sleepy with a tummy full of vodka and bad sushi.

I will conduct more tests, as this forces me not to sit in the corner with a “don’t-talk-to-me-I’m-carrying-Ninja-Stars-in-my-bra” look. And who knows, perhaps I will meet some new friends and end up with some crazy stories of pants pooping, cheesy domino's tattoos, puking and bar fights to share with my children someday

PEACE OUT!

Radiohead, White River Amp 8/20/08

2008-08-21T12:21:00.001-07:00

Oh. My. Fucking. Gawd.
My mind has been blown; I am the Jon and Radiohead is thy prostitute.

From the minute they took the stage, I knew I was in for concert going experience that might possibly have blown my first going experience (GNR/Rolling Stones, entry coming soon), out of the hemisphere. I was stone sober for this event, sitting amongst the periodic funny smelling smoke clouds and frankly, I’m glad I was. I felt like I was able to enjoy the show without bladder emergencies and absorb every fucking detail that was being given to me.

The weather seemed fitting…emo ‘I’m an agro spent youth and NO ONE GETS ME!’ gloom, would be an understatement. The clouds looked like angry murky grey waves viewed from the ocean floor, with the ever looming threat of a downpour; which didn’t actually start until ‘Dollars and Cents’, at which point I could say “Radiohead has made me proper wet in the pants” and literally mean it. I embraced the rain with my face turned to the sky; the cold however and being able to see my breathe with frozen toes in the middle of August-no so much.

I would’ve never bought a ticket for this show on my own. Not that I dislike them, I have managed to get almost every album for my collection, but more for the fact that I assumed, rightfully so, that it would be sleepy-time event, where a comfy la-z-boy recliner would be greatly benefited over the ass callus producing seats that the builders presume are acceptable. The price of tickets for a show of this caliber normally waylays my decision against the splurging. Thankfully, Anna prevailed and had an extra ticket; with regrets of it being in the lawn section, to which, I cared not-even with the rain. From my vantage point, Yorke was approximately a size that could fit on my thumbnail; again, I didn’t care. It’s not like this is a Manson show where you want to see every detail cause they get crazy on stage; this is a kick back gig, ie: sleepy time. So needless to say, I didn’t’ deem it necessary to be close enough to watch Yorke’s crazy flailing Charlie Manson moves
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rau4i1PohH8

(Thom Yorke sizes may vary)

The stage was flanked by large monitors that not only showed the band, but adapted to the curtains of LED. Speaking of LED’s…before the show started, we noticed the stage hands rolling out several rows of tubing from the top of the stage. Seizures be damned, cause once that shit got going, you were hypnotized with an array of patterns, flashing and a kaleidoscope of hues to capture every song’s mood. The pairing of lighting effects to the music just pushed their performance over the top; far beyond anything I've exerpienced in my concert goings.

The LED set up:
http://www.radiohead.com/themostgiganticflyingmouthforsometime/ViewEntry.html?EntryID=52

the power to run it:
http://www.radiohead.com/themostgiganticflyingmouthforsometime/
Suck this *band points at crotches* money hungry electric company swine! We’ll go green and use solar power and lower the emissions. You ain’t getting our duckets!

In terms of sound…I haven’t been to many blockbuster shows, I just prefer the intimacy of smaller theaters over the crowds and sometimes horrific blown out sounds of the bigger venues. Given that fact, I must say the sound for this show was by far, some of the best I’ve heard, big or small. The clarity, fullness and the fact that you could make out every note without the need for earplugs, was something my ears and body took in with great pleasure.

Given the combo of the near flawless sound and dazzling visuals, a few key songs stood out in my mind:
Pyramid Song- The stage appeared to be underwater, swimming in a blue lit hue, Greenwood, (Johnny I presume), channeled Jimmy Page, by playing his guitar as a stand up with a bow, creating a creepy whine, which carried on while Yorke played the piano at a slower tempo than the recorded version.

(Pyramid song)

National Anthem-began with a red laser light show; best described as taking a laser pin and going crazy against the wall, in a breakneck way that makes your cat go nuts. When the song starts to build with the horns into a general mess of noise and the repetition of “its holding on”, the red laser continues but is now joined by all the tubes being blue lit in a fashion that resembles a fuzzy t.v. screen, a la Poltergeist. Imagine that blue fuzz, coupled with the bright red snaking through it, and you’ve got ocular assault.

http://www.flickr.com/photo_embed.gne?id=2784896402

(just a taste of the above mentioned)

The Gloaming- started with a monitor panel on the floor of the stage, beating like a heart, in an emerald green hue in tempo with the base drum. When the chorus of “They should be ringing” with the building of the music, the LED tubes lit up, replicating a very fitting, emerald green ‘downpour’ onto the stage. I must admit, the coloring reminded me of the Wizard of Oz’s Emerald Castle.

(the Gloaming)

And one point, in all of their glorious flawlessness, Greenwood and Yorke take main stage to do an acoustic version of Faust Arp; to which Yorke screws up on the lyrics a few times; proving that he/they are not super human. He proceeds to start singing Neil Young's "Tell Me Why"; mumbling the words he doesn’t know; laughs; says “fuck it!” and continues on to finish the intended song. It’s good to see bands have fun and laugh in the face of mistakes instead of having teen temper tantrums and destroying their equipment before storming off in a “Mom won’t let me wear this slutty top-STOP CONTROLLING ME!” hissy fit off the stage. (yes, I like run on fluff sentences)

How to Disappear Completely. Sent Anna into a 50's musical love lorn look, with folded hands under her chin and one foot raised

Idioteque-was impressive for the bright white lighting patterns; you tube video attached
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cvoFGXQrRo
(of course the video does it no justice. Key word search radiohead+white river, for more videos)

(Idioteque)

Set list:
01. 15 Step

02. Reckoner

03. Optimistic

04. There There

05. All I Need

06. Pyramid Song

07. Talk Show Host

08. The National Anthem

09. The Gloaming

10. Videotape

11. Lucky

12. Faust Arp

13. Jigsaw Falling Into Place

14. Climbing Up The Walls

15. Dollars and Cents

16. Nude

17. Bodysnatchers

Encore 1

18. How to Disappear Completely

19. Arpeggi/Weird Fishes

20. Idioteque

21. In Limbo

22. Street Spirit

Encore 2

23. You And Whose Army? [Thom dedicates to the people who demonstrated against the WTO in Seattle in 1999]

24. No Surprises

25. Everything In Its Right Place

In all they played a 2hour set and I was pleased that I knew all but one song "Talk show host" and was a little sad they didn't play my fav "Exit music (for a film)"; which I understand...noboyd wants to pass out in a puddle of drool in front of their peers. I think next time they come through, I will have to shell out the money for closer seats, just to get the full effect of band member visuals.

Reaching for the Gold

2008-08-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

(US men win 4x100m, by a fingertip)

I’m groggy. I stayed up past my old lady bed time of 10pm to watch the Olympics; more exact, to watch the men’s 4x100m relay. Holy FUCK, talk about an exciting race, probably one of the best relays/race I’ve seen. Most of the excitement stemmed from the French talking smack about "smashing" the US; which isn’t my beef, some are just better; but when you throw in the shit talk, you deserve huge disappointment. Show some fucking class, much like my oh so ladylike self. BURP. So we had the lead, until the 3rd leg of our team lost it a bit, to the point where the 4th leg, 33 yr old Jason Lezak, had a body length to gain on first place. Going into the turn, I thought we were getting the silver, thus ending Phelps race for 8 golds, but the final 50meters Lezak somehow found the strength to pull on the Frenchy poop head; which trust, when you’re sprinting, it’s hard to pull out anymore. He took one massive dive to the finish and out touched by .08 of a second. The French’s response: “they didn’t win, they just out touched”. However you want to call it, the Americans got the gold and Bernard was left at the wall staring in disbelief before putting his head down.

In my opinion, the chance to even go to the games is heart fulfilling enough; silver, gold or bronze, you’re the best of the best. If there is one thing I regret in life, it is not realizing my dreams of giving it a shot for the Olympics. From the time I was 6 and my parents dragged us out on a warm summer night to some street to watch the torch be passed en route to the LA Coliseum; me with my M&M’s and boredom, not knowing what it all meant; listening to people cheer and peering through legs to get a view of a jogging man carrying a lit torch…that’s all it took, that was my first remembered Olympics. The rest is history. I dreamed from then on to try and attend. I was too big for gymnastics and too slow for track and once I witnessed Janet Evans in 88’, it was swimming all the way for me.

Maybe it’s my days of winning our league championships that bring Queen’s “We are the champions/We will rock you” into my head when I watch epic swimming events like this…at any rate, it’s a good song for the rivalry that France created against the US. Perhaps it’ll go along with Phelps if he wins all 8 gold medals. Even if he doesn’t, which is my belief because that’s just too much fucking pressure on the poor kid and let’s not forget the other great swimmers out there; but if he does, he’ll have earned every pretty snatch that will now be thrown his direction because of it. Keep on playa, you are the Champion

(Good Golly Phelps advertising the bod to the masses)

Pandora, not the box, but the site

2008-08-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

As the wagon is still broken and I ride the public trans with the rest of the Hellevue drones, I am developing quite the addiction to Mocha's; tall non-fat, no whip, extra chocolate-Mocha’s, to be exact.

How is this your problem? Well, you clicked on this page, so it just is…and now I get to offend your eyes with my incoherent caffeine rambling words and utter bullshit. Ramble On…

I know I’m behind the times and just recently discover the joys of Pandora. And I know it is there to introduce you to new music you may have never heard of based off of the music selections you input into their genome…and on that level, it’s fucking fantastic (like: waking up in your bed after a night of drinking, naked, and there’s a body lying next to you and SCORE, they’re actually attractive! Now only if you can remember if you actually GOT some) Although, the site has introduced me to loads of new music and as of late, is sadly replacing my uber radio crush, KEXP; there’s one thing it can’t do: dedicate an entire station to just one band. Sometimes I have a hankering for a particular band, and of those sometimes, I don’t fully have the album collection; and damn it, I don’t want to use up my limited skips and rejections in hopes of hearing this band. Like Veruca Salt, I WANT IT NOW! Is it so damned hard to satisfy a fucking itch?! Possibly if it’s in the unmentionable region and you’re out in public, so you try to do some sort of squat, leg cross shift, to make your clothing do the itching for you, without having to blatantly reach down and scratch.

Ok, time to ween off the java, seriously

So the pros: It breaks down bands/songs you choose, into key elements and determines other music that fits the style, thus possibly introducing you to cool new shit
It also has NO commercials; at least on air commercials that assault your ears
You like something, you can buy it now

Some of my gripes: Can’t make a station band specific
Sometimes there’s a glitch in the Matrix and the system will lag as it “tries to determine” the next song to play
You may have inputted Karate, and the thing chooses Black Sabbath to play next. How the HELL it got that from Karate, I’ll never know.

Overall, it’s good shit when you’re tired of the weird DJ selections or repeating top 40

My dream station...

(took me hours to get this combo. OCD is thy name)

Am I listening to the soundtrack of "Love Actually" here?!

2008-08-06T13:20:00.001-07:00

(just a fraction of the sometimes upwardly 9 piece band)

If you’re not going to the KEXP BBQ or are strapped for some cash, South Lake Union is having a block party…for FREE; and the only band that I’m familiar with is Grand Hallway. Decent mellow band hailing from good ole Seattle, with strings, slide guitar, piano and all the rest of the normal set up. I have a hard time placing them in any sort of musical category at which to compare or contrast. At any rate, with the lead singers androgynous voice liken to that of Sunny Day Real Estate or Silver Sun Pickups, it’s easy to see how you can sit out on the lawn with some wine, your favorite blankie or warm body and just chill

(singer Tomo Nakayama)

http://www.myspace.com/grandhallway

I saw these guys by pure happenstance at Showbox Sodo while visiting a bartender friend back in October 07. After what seemed like a looooong warm up, making me thinking they were armature and that I was in for a yawning experience; I was pleasantly surprised. They pack a punch.

Just a side note: off of their 07 release Yes is the Answer; “Seward Park”, is fast becoming my favorite song. With a soft beginning building with strong piano and strings, then stalling and building. It’s one of those songs that would fit perfectly into a love movie with one stupid character realizing they fucked up and running head long through crowded traffic filled streets towards the other stupid character who’s heading to the airport to move away to some far off land to do some stupid charity work. Or I dunno, the two stupid characters just part, all sad like, and I laugh. Bitter? Meh. Take this rant for what its worth as a description for their style.

Vampire Weekend, Cap Hill Block Party, 7/25/08

2008-07-31T13:10:00.000-07:00

(so innocent, you could take em home to mama)

Now, from what I remember, their sound was fantastic; sounding as good as the recording. But I wasn’t fully sure, due to the fact I was 3 sheets to the thar wind by the time they took to the stage. So thankfully some less inebriated soul caught it on his camera:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Asic_V9eYos
(I know this is not Scorsese shit, but at least you can tell that they sounded good, thus proving my judgment was not skewed by booze and surrounding distractions)

So the first time these wee young pups from Columbia University came through Seattle, I had just learned about them, and subsequently was too slow on the draw to nab a ticket to their sold out show. Blasted!!! But thank you oh so much, to my peeps for rubbing it my face on how much they rocked it. Uh huh and here’s some rusty spikes in Green lake for you to fall on as I trip your ass, ninja style (cause you won’t see me coming-get it?!).

I’ve heard their style likened to Simon and Garfunkel, but I have a hard time fully accepting that comparison. I’m going to date myself a bit and say it reminds me of a few bands from way back when, Madness and The Specials; not that comparing them to Le Simon and Le Garfunhizzle makes that person any less old than I. Now, I realize I just named off two English Ska bands, and no, I’m not saying that Vamp is a spot on ringer for Ska. But, in the grand scheme of things, this is what they remind me of with their poppy beats and rhythms. I mean, the shit just makes you wanna move, much like the way Ska made you want to skank (the dance, not you’re cheap half bastard sister with a peg leg).

Another style, which apparently “Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa", and "Oxford Comma", derive from, is Congolese Soukous music:
“Soukous (also known as Lingala or Congo, and previously as African rumba) is a musical genre that originated in the two neighboring countries of Belgian Congo and French Congo during the 1930s and early 1940s, and which has gained popularity throughout Africa. "Soukous" (said to be a derivative of the French word secouer, to shake)was originally the name of a dance popular in the Congas in the late 1960s, and danced to an African version of rumba.”
(I seriously don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t copy and paste from Wikipedia)
I can see the shake description, as those two songs definitely make me want to shimmy. In fact, I was dancing up a storm during their set; I think I burned off a good 1000 calories of booze. zexy

Now the block party as a whole…repeat after me:
I MUST eat food before I drink
I MUST eat food before I drink
I MUST eat food before I drink…

Ok, so you don’t have to repeat after ME, but I think I should at least get this shit tattooed on my forearm as a mantra; cause eating a wheat then with a lemon zest thinking I’m on some super model diet, is no way to survive on my drinking habits. Due to the fact that I ingested a decent amount of alcohol this year on said empty stomach, helped me to maintain my annoyance amongst the masses; and yes, I managed to have a good time without the urge of putting the smack down. (If I remember correctly, last year, I advanced on a trouble maker with heel in hand; until the ex stopped me). I learned that avoiding the beer garden with their $4 Miller High Life drafts (you can get a 6can tall boy pack for that cost), and hitting up the happy hours at the bars instead; will not only save you some serious coin, but keep you from wetting yourself like a 4year old scared by clowns because you don’t want to use a porto shitter. Let’s face facts, no one wants to use, let alone plant their dainty derriere on one of those things. So unfair boys got a point and shoot device, giving them the freedom on peeing on a tree without uncomfortable squatting and praying you don’t piss on your shoes or loose your balance and fall in your fresh puddle-wait, sugar ramble.

(always a pillar of the community and a fine example of lady-hood)

This year’s line up didn’t grab me as much as last year; or I should say I didn’t try to rush around to see everyone like last year. Neumo’s is a cluster on a normal basis, add in the block party and it’s just fucking hell. So I was pretty much stationed at the Cha Cha, the beer garden and the Comet; with full attempts to watch the oh so smart idea of Girl Talk and the madness on the stage, and Les Savy Fav with the ever dynamo front man Tim Harrington-can I possibly say LSD while preggers with this one?

(Girl Talk, all one of him in white head band)

(guy in wife beater "dude are you playing W.O.W?! I'm totally a level 7 Warlock)

(the drunk masses on stage with Girl Talk)

(Tim Harrington asks "would you like to dig for my belly button lint...with your tongue?)

At any rate, I got away without an indecent exposure citation, my dogs were not barking, I harassed a couple of tall boys, didn’t molest anyone (I think), no fights (I’m actually quite docile, like a lemur), spilled some beers (sorry D), laughed at some smelly hipsters, enjoyed some excellent people watching and caught my reason for coming and the main act in it’s entirety without: passing out, puking, or falling down. I think I did pretty okie dokie

now I just need to make some funnel with a tube that meets up to the vag for a make shift penis, so girls can stand up too!

VIVE LA REVOLUTION!

Some wasted fluff...enjoy!

2008-07-09T15:41:00.000-07:00

I'm going stir crazy and while I'm working on posts for this blog I happen to look down at my for-days-shapely gams and notice my horrific tan lines from last weekend's camping trip...

(hmmm, not sure how my honky white ass pulled that one off.)

So as I sit, bored and waiting for the whistle to blow; slightly hyper from the piece of chocolate I consumed...I'm going to rock out to my favorite band to drive to whilst in a hurry or aggro, Static X; and think about the good times I had at their shows...drinking, yelling, watching Wayne's hair defy gravity, thinking about the 'what's his name' guitarist that got caught with a 13 year old girl (oopsy), the excellent people watching and wondering why Mr. Static is looking so bulimic...really sweetie; porn girlfriend not feeding you well? You're still ripped and lovely and I'd still gladly sponge you clean after a rousting game of rugby, but doll...will ya just let me cradle you and feed you some Big Mac's and fries-super sized? Mamma's just a little worried, mmmm-kay?

I thought I did an entry on them awhile ago; alas, I probably trashed it. So I'll say something half assed about them now: YAY. FUN. No seriously, rockin. I've always had good times and they're always entertaining; playing a strong mix of new, along with their oldies that got them in the lime light in the first place. They typically sounds pretty decent to boot, but that mostly depends on the venue. The best venue thus far has been House of Blues in Anaheim. The worst, Showbox Sodo in Seattle.

So seeing how I try to see them whenever they're within a 30mile radius, I might try again to elaborate a bit more on the magical fairytale ride of good Glenda vs evil Monkey, that is their show.

Das Llamas @ The Comet 6/25

2008-07-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

While roaming the crowded “Pride” filled streets of Cap Hill on Friday the 25th, I heard a familiar bass line drifting out from the Comet.

“What is this song-I KNOW this song-What the FUCK is it?!”

Thank goodness the streets were closed off for the upcoming parade or I would surely have been creamed by a car like a Hollywood starlet hopped up on coke. I was standing outside the Comet trying hard to figure out the song, as the lyrics were barely audible through the noise. I probably would’ve figured it out sooner had I not ingested so many vodka bevies…but alas…

EUREKA!!!
“I am a patient boy...I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait My time is water down a drain”

HOLY FUCK, IS FUGAZI PLAYING IN SEATTLE AT THE COMET?! FUGAZI BITCHES!! I beg my drinking companions to let me play on the Hill a little longer, they only indulge my request because A.) there’s a hot dog cart right outside and B.) one of them was 86’d seven years ago and she was curious if she could get in.

I start peering through the door, but the crowd keeps me from viewing the band. So I flash my best “I’ll eat you alive” smile and puff up the love muffins towards the door man and gain admittance. Come on, with these Bea Arthur good looks, who could say no? Although, it probably helped that it was 12:30am.

Once inside, I discovered to my dismay that is was not Fugazi, but Das Llamas (not that they're bad, but I had a burning in my loins for the Fug). So I stayed to check out the band and enjoy the remainder of their set. The band was shoved into a corner on the upper level of the bar, so space was cramped for them to get too crazy. Nevertheless, they put on a pretty energetic show, jumping around, shaking their moppy hair mingled with sweat and got the remainding crowd moving. In all, I'll probably make a point to see them again, since the few songs I stayed for actually peaked my interest for a little more exposure. I might even make an effort to write a better, non booze infused entry of fluff about them.

The Comet is like the independent coffee houses/bars and old punk venues of my spent youth. The types of places where the sound is awful, you’re exchanging unwanted fluids of fellow patrons cause it’s so crowded and you could literally smell the band's Jack Daniels ingested breath cause they’re that fucking close to you. On the plus side, it gives you great people watching of the crusties, dusties and smelly hipsters. "Here pretty pretty hipster...let momma feed you a big mac to fill out your 13 year old sister's jeans".

While I'm at it...why don't I go ahead and hug a tree

2008-06-25T16:04:00.000-07:00

(Panoramic...I'm somewhere down there in the middle)

My last Sunday was spent volunteering for Surfrider’s Snowrider Project, Alpental Clean Up event. It was a bit later in the year this time around; due to the epic amount of snow we got this season and the fact that there is still a fair amount up there now…

Armed with my trusty side kick, Anna and several gloves, we attacked the upper lots and the areas opposite of the road. In 3 hours time we managed to fill 7 industrial sized garbage bags full of crap. Even with those numbers though, I’d have to say, it wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. I figured lot 4 alone would’ve been hell; seeing as how I’ve had my fair share of beers and picnics there.

(the first of MANY to follow)

After said 3 hours, we broke for lunch, which the foundation was nice enough to supply us: burgers, potato salad and baked beans…mmmmmm the magical fruit that just loves to make me toot. While we sat around gabbing, the subject of what was found started to arise. I myself found the following: the standard beer discardings, cigar butts, approx 50 tea lights, oyster shells, a carpet kit from a vehicle, some human poo, 5 tennis balls, about 7 socks and some man panties-or ‘manties’ (which I tried investigate the reason for tossing and take a picture of possible monster skid marks-Anna said stop-Boo Anna-BOO). Other items found that day: 2 bras, an unopened bottle of champagne, a snowboard boot, boxing glove, and a king’s ransom in Girl’s Gone Wild Mardi Gra beads. In all, it is a great cause worthy event that Surfrider puts on, it’s a shame more don’t participate with as ‘Green’ as this state is. You could literally be up there ALL day cleaning shit up.

I know I don’t look like your typical ‘love Mother Earth, man!’ type of person, but I was birthed by pseudo hippie/rock parents of the 70’s, that regularly took us camping during the summers. Digging holes to do your business, hanging your food from trees and ‘being one with nature’, were par for the course. Of course I leave out the part where we brought along ATV’s; cause we’re not completely uncivilized patchouli wearing freaks. Nevertheless, I boarded a lot this season, put in my time on the slopes and I do feel that trash gets overlooked. It felt good to do something positive (as I regularly comment evil acts of debauchery).

On this random act of earth kindness, I didn’t bring my iPod. Instead, I listened to the music of nature; with the surrounding birds, waterfalls and creeks; awwwww. I think I even saw Bigfoot, waving and shedding a tear as I pick up his backyard; or it could’ve been a REALLY hairy nudist hiker.

Old 97's, Triple Door June 14th

2008-06-24T08:28:00.000-07:00

This entry will be much like my feelings on the show I saw…unimpressive

Ok, so maybe that’s a bit harsh. They’re not bad; they’re just not my cup of tea; which frankly surprises me, seeing as how I grew up in a house of rock and or roll(me Da); and the occasional classic country injection(me Ma), not that bullshit country they make today. It was a free show at the Triple Door; I was curious and had a free Saturday, so I went to peep them. They sounded good, but I’m pretty much of the opinion that it would be royally fucking hard to sound bad at that venue. I was sitting there thinking to myself, “Wow, I can fully expect to see the ‘Footloose’ kids rocking out in their Midwest 80’s prom attire to this band”. Harsh again? Perhaps; but with Rhett Miller’s Bruce Springsteen booty shaking moves mixed with a southern rock-country influence, it left me thinking that my dad would LOVE their sound. He’s got a great voice, as does Murry Hammond, and the rest of the band were talented as well. So I must give them props, because they seem to be doing well for themselves after 14+ years of music making history.

On a side note of the fellow attendees…I expected to see more greasers or rockabilly folk there, but alas not so much. Maybe this is what those types look like as they get older, have kids and mature into career and life. Hell, I don’t even have my Betty Page bangs anymore and I love me some rocka-silly music.

But any time I’m in Texas, driving my 72’ Chevy pick’em up truck with my bestest dog buddy Bandit, mashing my boot on the accelerator, and I get the sudden urge to cut loose in a barn with wicked dance moves and gymnastics…I’ll rock out to Old 97’s

Amateur burlesque? Why not-there's nothing else on

2008-06-20T15:26:00.001-07:00

(trust me, it didn't look like this)

I love me some burlesque…

The roommate and I traveled to a local bar for an open tease night of amateur burlesque. I was excited, briefly, but that died…also, briefly. Being that this was on a weeknight and as everyone knows, I’m an old lady who enjoys her sleep; thus said, I’m usually pretty sleepy by 10pm. Why am I telling you this? Um…uh, because some of these girls were so fucking boring they were driving me to pass out in a puddle of drool before 10pm and my drinks, strong as they may be, were NOT saving the day.

We needed more action, more heat, more shimmy, more…more fucking pasted titties damn it. Stop making me yawn with your stiff movements and poor tease skills ladies!! Although, much props must go out, lets face it, you didn’t see my tattooed ass up on that stage…at least not yet

All was looking bleak, until a man; yes a man and a large one at that did tease to Minnie the Moocher, dressed in a suit. In the end, he had balls, but it would’ve been better if he wore pasties, because frankly, he had some good sized melons. So it’s now approaching 11pm and we’re walking towards the door, when we see a rather healthy gal take the stage to Bjork’s “it’s so quiet”. We had pretty much lost all hope of any good entertainment by this point, until this robust young lady started shimming her big ass with gusto. Yes, as I mentioned, large or more politically correct: “Plus Sized”; wrapped in what I can assume, about 3-4 solid yards of fringe…She stopped us in our tracks; she had more heart, energy and character than rest of the acts we’d seen thus far. And yes, she teased and showed us her butterfly pasties and my lord, they were FUCKING HUGE! The pasties, as well as her jugs.

The only other thing worth mentioning was a girl who hiked up her skirt and appeared to open a beer bottle with her crotch. I bet she gets all the fellas with that move…You can bet I’ll be practicing that trick at home.

scribble on a post it

2008-06-13T09:25:00.000-07:00

(found this, from this season)

A rendering from the friend I was giving a lesson to...

I'm the one in the goofy beanie and no pants...pretty true to life likeness, I must say

It's the end of my car as I know it...and I feel fine

2008-06-12T13:55:00.000-07:00

So my general bitching about my car on here is not to warrant the “oh, poor Mel” boo hoo pity party, or a “save my ass” fundraiser, as the ex suggested; but more along the lines of: sparing my friends from yet another needless rambling bitchfest about the woes of being a paycheck to paycheck human like most Americans now of days and the unfortunate event of your 02 Mazda wagon deciding to shit all over itself at once…

So the Friday of said incident begins like this: just finished swimming at the gym and emerge from the parking structure to cold rain-in fucking June; and oh did I mention 7 inches of snow at the local tip-IN JUNE?!- Anywho…the oil light pops on, and before any of you fuckers say “why’d you drive it with no oil?!” fuck you. I am not a car retard female with no concept of a seized up motor…mmm-kay? This particular oil light wouldn’t have mattered if I drove straight to the store to put some in-for I got one mere block from the gym before my car decided to shut itself off in mid flight. After coasting into a construction sight I tried to start it. The starter turns, but the motor doesn’t crank; and to add another pleasantry…my car is dumping all of its oil.

So fast forward to Tuesday this week; as my car made it to a shop at closing on Friday and sat until then…I learn that yes, my car decided to in fact have a nervous breakdown and go into a temper tantrum. The conversation goes like this:
Shop: your car had no oil in the motor
Me: I understand that, because as I had mentioned, it dumped it all in the lot where it died
S: here’s the run down
Me: I’ve got the lube and I’m ready, bring on the hurt
S: oil leaked out of a bad seal on the filter; we replaced the oil and there was no compression. We checked the valves, they’re fine; we checked the timing, the belt was lose and jumped 6 teeth. We fixed the belt and put on a new tensioner. However, we’re not getting any spark to the plugs so we have to run an electrical diagnostic. Basically you’re extremely lucky, normally I’d be making the ‘you need a new motor’ call here with these conditions, but not you.
Me: sweet merciful weirdoes wearing their grannies panties and rubbing themselves in peanut butter and Nutella for small favors (relaxes butt cheeks)
Shop: Your car needs a new computer, its dead
Me: beg pardon? It’s a 02 and a Mazda for that matter, shouldn't these things last forever?
Shop: it happens…$1046 for the new computer and install
Me: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! I HAD A 17YR MUSTANG whose COMPUTER NEVER SHIT ON ME?!

I remember when I got my sweet little wagon…(cue harps and fuzzy fluffy edges around my memory) I had an 89 5.0, highly supped up; it was my baby, it hauled ass, took corners, made itself known for miles, rocked a sweet system and basically ate shitty rice rockets in So Cal for breakfast. Alas, with all that power and torque, came the wonderful 8-12mpg stat. So enter my wagon…a cute little mom mobile that I could toss all my gear into and still have plenty of room for my friends. With good gas mileage, AC, reliability and most of all, no modifications. (Other than me lowering it, rims and a DVD/Monitor system) I kept the stang and my wagon became my daily driver; and I didn’t even mind so much that it was a 4cylinder when the thing got me home from Vegas in 2.5hours.

Yep, she’s been good to me, and the end is in sight on my payments and I’ll probably keep her when paid off…but I’m realizing, I miss the simplicity of an old car. No computer, no fancy doo-dads, easy electrical, carburetors and when they break they're not requiring of a expensive mechanic's bill

(hit and run victim; story for another day)

Damn you Staley

2008-06-04T08:07:00.000-07:00

It's Pledge drive time on good ol KEXP! So I turn to other avenues of music fulfilment...My Pandora radio station just played 'Nutshell' and now I must go on a tangent!

Nutshell (Alice in Chains)

"We chase misprinted lies

We face the path of time

And yet I fight

And yet I fight
This battle all alone

No one to cry to

No place to call home

Oooh...oooh...

My gift of self is raped

My privacy is raked

And yet I find

Repeating in my head

If I cant be my own

Id feel better dead

Oooh...oooh...

Oooh...oooh..."

Wake Up (Mad Season)

"Wake up young man, it's time to wake up

Your love affair has got to go

For 10 long years, for 10 long years

The leaves to rake up

Slow suicide's no way to go, oh

Blue, clouded grey

You're not a crack up

Dizzy and weakened by the haze

Moving onward

So an infection not a phase

Yeah, oh

The cracks and lines from where you gave up

They make an easy man to read, oh

For all the times you let them bleed you

For little peace from

God you plead, and beg

For little peace from

God you plead Ahhaahh, Yeah, Ahhaahh, Yeah, Ahhaahh, Yeah

Wake up young man, wake up, wake up

Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up Oh, yeah

Wake up young man, it's time to wake up

Your love affair has got to go, yeah

For 10 long years, for 10 long years,

The leaves to rake up

Slow suicide's no way to go, oh

Slow suicide's no way to go

Wake up, wake up, wake up

Wake up, wake up, wake up"

Very few deaths of musicians leaves me melancholy.

John Lennon was one; although I was too young to remember his murder in Dec 1980, I do remember the first anniversary of it; and having grown up in a house of Beatles, I still mourn the loss of a great artist.

Having been unfortunately too close in my life situations to view and live amongst addiction to heavy drugs; I've seen the unfortunate side affects to one self and those that surrounded. Even with that fact, I CANNOT understand how anyone can let themselves continue on with a losing battle, without help, when they can acknowledge their problem; yet let it consume them till death. I understand depression and addiction can be a debilitating problem, but suicide is the easy way out. When Layne Staley died, I was literally pissed. He was robbing not only everyone, but mostly my selfish ass, of his distinctive voice and home hitting lyrics.

Alice in Chains' Jar of Flies was one of earliest CD's purchased (Pearl Jam's Ten, was the first). I may not have been a crazy huge fan learning every tidbit about them, but I could fully appreciate the scale of their talents and the strong core shaking music they produced. I found them vastly better on all fronts than Nirvana (spare your knife slinging to my head Cobain fans, he too left an amazing short libbed mark on the world). Jerry Cantrell is also an incredible musician, but without Staley he's kinda a peanut butter sammy without the perfectly matched jelly.

le sigh

Oregon Coast 5/25

2008-05-30T16:10:00.001-07:00

So when I hear surfing, I think tanned bodies in board shorts and the occasional shorty wet suit . I knew there were die hard lovers of surf that would don some thick 5/3mm heavy duty wet suits with booties and gloves to hit the waves on the NW coast; read: fucking COLD enough to make your nuts creep up inside ya or your nipples shoot off and take an eye out. But apparently the surf up here is so fantastic that people will drive hours to the coast to catch a great wave.

Memorial weekend I found myself in Portland, and subsequently on the coast, just south of Cannon Beach, to hang out while a friend surfed. Beaches in So Cal are beautiful due to the lovely eye candy and warmth, but other than that, they're polluted and in some spots lined with big ass homes; read: not much nature left(at least in the majority of the southern region). Due to the sadness of pollution and my own frustrations of not being able to get in the water some days cause of the danger level, or walking away with tar on my feet other days; I am a member of Surfrider Foundation. However, the scenery up here is beautiful, and I can deal with the cold by layering up, building a camp fire or drinking.

The waters were crowded and the waves were on the small side; a few of the better riders had a challenging time getting any good riding out.

I enjoyed my peaceful surroundings with some music and my camera. It was nice; it reminded me of being younger back home and ditching school after morning swim practice to go to the beach, watching the local rippers and reading a book, before having to dash back for afternoon practice.

I listened to CKY, which brings back strong memories of my friends in the OC, and being in that environment. They put on a fun show with drunken debauchery, and every once and awhile we'd see one of the douches from Jackass at a show getting hounded for autographs.

(road trip music iPod radio adapter MUCH needed)

Upcoming Concerts...

2008-05-29T16:05:00.000-07:00

holy fuck balls deep fried in your Granny's kitchen, there are so many shows coming up!!!

some I'm definitely going to and some are a maybe but these are all the ones I'm interested in seeing:

5/31 Los Campesinos - Neumos
6/7 Crystal Castles - Chop Suey (if I pull off tickets before they sell out lest I have to buy them at an inflated cost from Shane-evil evil boy)
6/13 Grand Hallway - High Dive
6/17 Detroit Cobras - Neumos
6/19 The Fratellis - Neumos
6/24 The Blakes - Neumos
6/27 Reverend Horton Heat - Showbox Sodo (never miss a chance to see him)
7/9 We Are Scientists - Neumos
7/12-7/13 - Sub Pop 20th - Marymoor Park
7/25-7/26- The Cap Hill Block Party
9/24 Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Showbox Sodo (already sold out, but I'll be trying to weasel my way onto the guest list)

Holy shit, Neumos has got a lotta bands going on. That's a lot of shows and a lot of money to spend. Thank goodness I have priorities with my money...like booze and music tickets

Arcade Fire-a love story

2008-05-29T09:41:00.000-07:00

Arcade fire was my theme music, when I hit that moment in my life where I decided to throw caution to the wind, pack up my house and get the fuck out of Riverside.

I get a lot of people who ask ‘why Seattle?’…My answer ‘why not? Have you seen this place?!’ Growing up my grandparents had a vacation house on the Hood Canal, around the Sea beck area, and we would vacation in Washington during the summers and escape the brown Hell’s inferno of So Cal. I always loved it here and there were a few times we almost moved up here. So needless to say, I always wanted to be here. New Years 06, I had made the resolution that I would move out of state, my choices were London or Seattle (both similar climates). As I started the immigration process, I realized it was going to be too costly and I would have to sell my house, my possessions and quarantine my cats for 6months. In March of 06, my friend Bernie and I decided to take a weekend trip to Seattle for some snowboarding. I can tell you that I felt like I was home. Before the weekend was even done I had made the decision that Seattle was where I was going and post haste.

(Alpental ebow drop) (en route to Baker) (I worked that SUV)

That decision came while I was sitting in Pioneer Saloon, Arcade Fire’s Funeral was playing, I was sitting with my future boyfriend and my future roommate Bernie (she decided to move with me) and it just clicked; and this album became my strength and soundtrack for what would be a HUGE fucking change in my life.

All I can say is, when I get an idea in my head to do something, I go full bore (case in point: Wanted to do make-up, picked a school in Burbank for night classes. Worked full time at my Marketing job in south Corona and commuted to Burbank after work-EVERY-MUTHA-FUCKING-DAY for a month. 2hours there, 1 hour home, in the summer with no AC, over 5800miles on my Mustang; but I did it and now I’m a pro artist as a hobby). So I was saying, wild hair+full bore=me moving 3 months later to Seattle; and ‘Wake Up’ was playing as I pulled the moving van out of my driveway

You should’ve seen me when I finally saw them in September 07 at the Bank of America theater; I was dancing up a storm and lost my voice singing along…they put on one amazing high energy show and the visuals kinda put you on sensory overload. Their music is so full and powerful; building up and mellowing out before coming on strong again and knocking you on your ass.

Two years later and every time I hear the Funeral, I get all sentimental and sometimes a bit misty eyed.

Even though I have moments of missing So Cal...I don’t regret the move

Circus Contraption-Fremont 5/23/08

2008-05-28T13:13:00.001-07:00

Where to begin…where to begin... After taking a quick cat nap that wasn’t so quick, resulting in me rushing to get ready, not being able to find my: mini top hat, satin gloves, garter belt for my Cuban heels, thus switching to thigh-high fishnet stockings but not finding the set-“why the FUCK can I not find my stockings?!”…I managed to don my pencil skirt, best corset, leopard heels and stripy top, all in an effort to fit into the ‘Circus’ scene without dressing like a wretched clown-I HATE clowns. After some excellent Mexican from El Camino and some spirits; we b-lined it to the show, managing to make an asshole late entrance just as they were underway.

(sea lion)

We were greeted to a big top setting, but not the cheesy Ringling Bros of happiness we knew as a child. I’m talking borderline creepy, with a carnival feel and an underlying touch of evil. A big ring in the center for the performers, a smaller/higher ring to one side for the ‘Master’, a medium ring to the other for the live band and various ropes hanging from the ceiling…wicked, I love aerialists.

The approximate 2 hour show starts off with a musical precession and song. Within that time range you’ll see the following: a woman performing on a ‘horse’, a mermaid, a sea lion and it’s trainer, a monkey humping a doll, some women flinging about from the ceiling, a karate bunny, sword swallowing, pink poodles, an amazing song done by bottles/jugs, giant cockroaches and unfortunately a brief appearance by a clown. I honestly don’t want to go to specific into details; frankly my words would do no justice and rob this show of its splendor.

(why yes, my bed of nails IS comfortable)

I will mention this, its like an LSD trip; of which I can only assume since I only sort of did it once in high school, which really doesn’t count because someone told me to put this piece of paper on my tongue and once I found out what it was, I spit it on the wall; but I could’ve felt something, I SWEAR my stuffed animal’s shadows were dancing around my head!…it probably wasn’t real anyway, teenagers are so gullible…at any rate, the show was a feast for the eyes and I’m sure if someone were so inclined to do LSD beforehand, they’d probably be in for a great ride.

(monkey see, monkey do)

They do however sell booze at this show, which I did not partake in; nope, I was a goody-two-shoes-godly-angel-of-sobriety! (Only because I was still hung-over from guy’s night the previous night). There were several drunken fuck wads being a bit, well…fucking stupid, but the performers handle them well and in all honesty, the show feeds off the audience and their rowdy, rude behavior and tom foolery. What fun would a show be if it was a wholesome Walton experience? Vive La Raunchy!!

(multi talented band)

This troupe stays true to form with every detail. From the well tailored 20’s era styled costumes, to a band best described by them as “an off-kilter carousel accompanied by Halloween music gone slightly wrong”, to the actual performances. It was all very campy and vaudeville in style and humor. My cheeks hurt from laughing so much and before you knew it, the show was over and the time flew. It’s well worth the money to see the amazing raw talent of all the performers.

(Pink Poodles)

FYI…I think I might take some aerial lessons from one of the ladies and try to get her bod. I mean, achieve her body, not literally GET her body-perverts

Amy Whinehouse

2008-05-27T23:15:00.001-07:00

I never paid Winehouse much attention due to the fact that she was over played. Not that I didn't think her stuff or her voice for that matter, weren't fabulous...but she was EVERYWHERE and I got sick of hearing her before I ever got to hear her.

While consuming some ESB's with a buddy last night, he decided to grace me with a train wreck of a performance by said lassie. I'm not sure where; some theater in England, sometime this year; I can't find any info on the performance; which is surprising considering she delayed the show a couple of hours with her fuck-uppery

Talk about hot mess...eyes rolling, swaying, not engaging the crowd, drinking between lyrics, spilling booze; and "while I'm at it-bring me another!"; a serious look of a "oh fuck, can I just get this shite over with so I can go pass out"; wondering if she was going to tug too hard at her hair and pull it out...and me zeroing in on a hicky on her neck; make up artist: you fail! The band looked bored, like they were performing a horrible chore; example: picking up horse shit on a farm... Half way through the performance she asked them to speed up tempo; they obliged, I'm guessing not only because the label pays them, but also because they just wanted to get out of there as badly as she did.

Some Brits are hard enough to understand sober, add the fact that she was clearly lit...I was left scratching my head a few times "what the FUCK did she just say?!" All the same, much kudos to the lass for actually being able to remain vertical in 4" heels when she was clearly stumbling. Poor girl...I really wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and force feed her some Big Macs; those poor legs looked like they would snap under the pressure.

I will say this about her...I've seen wasted performers barely make it through shows (Courtney Love comes to mind) but even in her state, she still managed to sing somewhat good...even if she did look like a glassy eyed zombie who occasionally waved to her friends in the upper balcony (which, thanks to her friends, was the only time she actually looked coherent). The show was enough, even with my permanent "WTF" stink face throughout, for me to see she's got some talent and I'll probably FINALLY check out her last album

Man UTD wins!!!!

2008-05-21T14:41:00.000-07:00

Ohhh the joys of Direct TV and a big ol flatscreen at work...

OK, so granted, I'm not a huge footballl fan, but man, Manchester United just sucks you in. The championship game against Chelsea was AMAZING; with a shoot off at the end to determine the game.

After two legendary players fuck their team's chances... Ronaldo missed for UNT...Chelsy's Terry could've won the game...fucked up and slipped in the rain... it was down to one more shot, on ManUTD's goalie, Van der Sar...he blocks it-THEY WIN!

FYI sooo glad Drogba was ejected...such a douche

If he doesn't get laid 13ways from Sunday; boy's got issues

OK, back to work

Random Spewing...

2008-05-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

My fucking knee still hurts and it doesn’t help that I’m still swimming on it. Fucking mountain; just further solidifies that I am NOT going up there again this weekend. Instead, thanks to some possible impending sun, I WILL be on the beach, in a bikini, freaking the squares with my white chicken legs and tattoos.

Holiday weekend, plans fell through to fly home for a So Cal beach visitation; no worries, relaxing at home will be fine; it’s too fucking hot down there right now anyway. Not to mention I’ll possibly be flying home next month for my Grand da’s wake.

(love and a chopped 49' Merc)

I am however looking forward to the following this week:
Guy’s Night in Cap Hill (Minus the mounds, I am a guy to them; as I am not a high maintenance drama filled philly, I cuss and drink like a fish)
Circus Contraption in Fremont on 5/23 and dressing up in one of my finer corsets, high heels and pencil skirt, complete with mini velvet top hat.
Maybe a little Noc Noc on Sunday for .25cent Highlife’s and freaks
But mostly sun and beers with friends…

(ok boys...bring on the Linda's, I can take it)

So another random note:
I know I’m a member, but I’m a bit burnt out on KEXP, not that they're not great and wonderful for doing what they do and lord knows I'm grateful NOT to be listening to public radio top 40 bullshit...I'm just listening more to my Pandora.com radio stations…

(Tommy Guerrero just reminds me of laid back, beach, surf, skate and home)

You are the griddle, I am the meat

2008-05-19T09:22:00.001-07:00

Seriously Anna, thank you for the Lovage CD...it's STILL in my car, 3 days later...on loop with the windows down and blasting.

If anyone can get their hands on "Songs to make love to your old lady to", I highly suggest it. It is aptly titled and an awesome orgasmic force to be reckoned with!

Now if I could just find someone to play it for with a couple of glasses of wine and some candles.
(que Loveage porn music)

Unnnnn, oooooohhhh, ahhhhhh!!!

Alpental 5/17

2008-05-17T21:00:00.001-07:00

So this past weekend in Seattle found us with a rarity…Sunshine and warm weather. You’d think I’d be at the beach, trying, to get some sort of color on these translucent legs. Nope. Instead I went to…wait for it…Alpental.

There’s something unnatural about heading out the door in shorts, flops and a tee, while holding your gear en route to the mountain for some slushy snow. It was too damn warm up there, I believe close to 80 and I ended up riding in a t-shirt; I wish it was a tank or a bikini top(which would never work with these love muffins). In all honesty, it reminded me of the early spring in So Cal, except there are actually tanned pretty people down there riding half naked.

This trip however, for the first time, I took chair 2 and rode in the back country; which I wouldn’t have done a year ago. The group I was riding with were well seasoned riders and insisted on popping my cherry with some hiking, jumping and the first gouge in my board from a tree. I didn’t do the jumping, but I did take the pictures (to come later). Still, it was slushy, sunny, and beautiful, the beers were flowing in lot 4 and even with liberal amounts of sun block, I still got burned by the sun and some scrapes from falling in the snow in a tee.

I am seriously done-DONE until next season-AND I DON’T CARE IF YOU DO OPEN AGAIN THIS WEEKEND! So fuck you Alpental, with your half naked fat, hairy and white skiers, underage girls in bikinis, women over 40 in bikinis, nasty bouncy saggers in tank tops, silly outfits, hiking and me twisting my knee. You won't see me again for awhile! (or at least until winter)

(not as big a fall as another I've seen...)

Neumos' Fate

2008-05-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

Was discussing the Kills show with my friend this morning when he produced this complaint from the “Concert News and Tickets” site:

“We went to see the Kills at Neumos tonight. They took our tickets at the door, we went in, and there was a line to get into the room where the band was playing. We could only get in if someone else left. Neumos sells more tickets than the capacity of the room, so you can buy a ticket to get into Neumos, but you may not get to see the band if you get there after they fill-up, or you have to leave the room to go to the bathroom. The employees are sympathetic, it sucks, but they only work there, and didn’t create the business plan.If anyone knows if I have any reasonable consumer or legal avenue to get my money back, or help put an end to this scam, please let me know.”

Response:
“This is a new procedure at Neumo’s. They had their capacity cut this last week from about 800 to about 250 by the city. It is an attempt by the mayor’s office to put them out of business so the land can be developed. It is actually a very sad situation, as Neumo’s is one of the best music venues in the city. If you really want to help, write letters to the city council and the mayor’s office.”

I must admit that when I ran to the little girl’s room, I was not permitted back in until someone left; which seems like complete and utter bullshit when people have already paid for their tickets. I was annoyed as I waited to regain admittance. A buddy informed me earlier in the week that Neumos had been fined and their capacity level was chopped, thus causing the show to sell out. At first I was happy, having been to several Neumos shows in the past and feeling like I was a tightly packed sardine in a sweaty room with others; not so much with the happy after last night. Granted the freedom to move around and enjoy the band was great, but the over selling and admittance problem was like a flustered virginal groom on his wedding night: FUCKED.

I never paid much attention to the mayor of my city back home, being as the only complaint I had was the snail pace of erecting a sound wall behind my house. I move to Seattle and all the sudden I’m presented with this douche Mayor Nickels. The first thing I am introduced to is a 4 foot rule and no alcohol in strip clubs=how the hell are the ladies gonna earn their much needed coin for their kids, drug habits, boob jobs and deadbeat boyfriends?! Won’t someone think of the strippers?! Then I hear he’s trying to transform the city into the next New York. Allowing building to be resurrected with store fronts; yes, very pretty, but one of the things I love about this city is it’s history and he seems to be on a mission to wipe it out. A sound ordinance? If you don’t like the noise from a bar or club, don’t live there. If he’s truly trying to put Neumos out of business, he should go visit a certain horse in Enumclaw for some special bonding: basically, get fucked and bucked.

As much as I not the biggest fan of Neumos, they still bring in quality acts and shouldn’t be closed down. I am extremely curious how this new in-out process is going to work during the Cap Hill Block Party. I have a feeling lots of people are going to miss bands they’re really aching to see.

The Kills, Neumos 5/15/08

2008-05-16T01:39:00.000-07:00

2am...really?!
My palm is red, numb and my ass has blood marks...

wait...back up...

it's Wednesday, I run to Neumos...trying to buy tickets for my friend Lizzy and I for the Kills show...no go, sold out. What the holy flying fuck?!! It's the mutha fukkin Kills-for truly?! ugh. I know I was seriously wrong-WRONG-about Devotchka selling out Showbox Sodo, but come on now, the Kills selling out Neumos?!!! fuck, I'm lame.

I figure, fuck it, I'll just go to the Hill and chill with friends and some drinks before the show I was so blatantly denied... then an opportunity presents itself..."Mel, I'm tired, I don't want to go, take my ticket" ..."for reals?!"

with much reluctance, I took that bitch...

I go for some pre party drinks and end up a bit tipsy and flicking shit to the new cute aquaintance. Totally frustrating to a Scorpio like myself...Anywho... I'm at Neumo's for the last part of Das Llamas...I think, 'they might be good' but I can't honestly tell with one or two songs...

(sooner or later...cell phone strike..will kill me)

The Kills however...they are good. Only two peeps on stage, but with back up tracks, they are rocking. I am swaying, moving and doing a sexy shimmy shuffle to the beats...Totally loved their vibe and sound. AND Neumo's only managed to fuck it up a little bit with the sound and feedback situation. For the most part, I was totally stoked by the fact I got to see them and that they rocked it so hard. Thank the gods that be and the fate that actually got me in last minute, cause they were a little bit of sexy sexy time.

OK..forward to the red palm and blood marked ass... While I'm at the show, my friend texts me "Hurry, Creepy guy next to me!" Nuff said, I was off in a flash to protect my wee bonny friend.

I show up promptly at the Viking, and get served a drink...ok, thanks Rob! Things and drinks progress and next thing I know, my friend is commenting on my skills at the ass spankings. Bad news guys...I will show you a world of hurt. One remark "holy shit, you hit like a dude!" yep, step off! Needless to say, it became a competition and our asses were the anti... I left a few blood marks on my buddy's ass, and my ass...is literally on FIRE

nuff said...I'm beat...I got to FINALLY meet Mr Drexler, after MUCH shit talking, and my ass hurts.

Later, I need sleep

(OH NO'S LIZZY!) (gotta love the Cha Cha)