du[m]ped

Both Daryl and I have been replaced... Which actually makes this whole scenario pretty laughable. Afterall, funny is my game.

Now to buy a bike.
Now to become a casio cowboy.
Now to find a home.

drawing to a hole

I'm gonna go up to one of those big holes in the earth and throw something in. I don't know what yet, but, luckily, I've got a few months to sort it out.

Step 1: Find the item
Step 2: Keep it on my person at all times
Step 3: Drive to the Grand Canyon
Step 4: Throw it in

It has occurred to me that it's a bit ludicrous to think that there is a "solution" to the hole problem; I think it's sticking around and I think it's going to be something that I need to face and re-face for the rest of my life. I have decided that the first order of business should be tossing something in. It seems cathartic and profound and right up my current alley. But who knows how I will approach it after that.

My guts are still a bit twisted and my mind wandering. I'm the self proclaimed queen of mind over matter, but in this instance, I am just going to have to open wide and stick my foot in my mouth. I can't seem to talk myself out of these stupid feelings. It's fine, though. It's whatever. It beats the robot days of yore. I have blood and sweat and tears so take that, machines!

hurts so good

It's time to consult the bones, if you catch my drift.

And the magic behind that (which you will know already if you're a fan of Willow), is that there's really no magic at all.

But there's something about that sack of bones, just like there's something about the Grand Canyon and something about walking along the train tracks with a bindle slung over your shoulder, which I choose to believe in despite my knowledge of how the world really works.

Times are strange and changing. It makes me unsettled and I feel inclined to crumble, but I know, just like you know, that things get good--things get so good that soon they will have never been better. Wait, did you know that? Because it's very true.

I've been on such a good roll lately that I forgot what it's like to feel bad. I forgot what it's like to lose sleep, have ominous dreams, and wake up sick to my stomach. I can only assume that I'm about to level up. Bad yields to good, always. A wizard told me that, and wizards don't lie.

Fourth of July 2009 was something else, so much in fact that it felt wrong to photograph it. It even almost feels wrong to go into detail about it. It was a night all about community and being in the streets; it was about being "in on it" and together. The fireworks over the river made every nucleus in every cell of my body spark a little. Dirty Projectors gave me chills and undid all the wrong that I felt after seeing Animal Collective. The air was light and our hearts were heavy--just a little bit, enough for us to know that they were there, beating inside of our chests.

If there's ever been a time to keep it up, it certainly is now.

cruise control

Still no solutions to my imminent transportation problem. However, this morning, as I perused Craigslist for a Honda motorcycle, it occurred to me that my family has one... a 1972 Honda Trail 90. When I pressed my dad about the feasibility of turning said road bike into a reliable commuter, he seemed pessimistic. But in my head, fixing up the Trail 90 seems waaaaay cheaper than buying a whole other bike; although, I could be (very) wrong. It for sure needs turn signals, mirrors, and new tabs before it can hit the road, but I'm not sure what else might be wrong with it. Any grease monkeys out there wanna go to the cabin with me and check it out? I don't think I can count on my dad to help me on this one; he seems nonplussed by the prospect of me driving it around.

In other news, I went to Portland last weekend and it was fan-fucking-tastic. I ate pizza with all my friends, saw Sunset Rubdown, met Spencer Krug on the street, went to countless antique stores, rode my bike everywhere, ate at Screen Door, went to Cannon Beach, Ft. Stevens, AND Astoria, and even made a new friend... His name is Daryl and he likes to hang out in my backpack. No, I'm not crazy. When you meet him, you will understand the magic.

Oh, and Angie's bike was stolen from her back porch, but within two hours of realizing that the disgusting burglary had taken place, Nick was able to sell her a beautiful Peugeot that he had stored at a friend's house roughly four blocks away. This weekend was all about luck.


I want to make tortilla española this week. And a candy casserole. I also want to see Dirty Projectors on Friday at Chop Suey. I'm also supposed to go back to Portland for the Fourth of July and Angie's birthday this weekend, but I find myself feeling discouraged by the amount of driving I've been doing, gas money I've been spending, and the lack of shifts I've been scheduled for at work to help fund these adventures. What's a girl to do?

PS: Seattle's not too shabby when you're able to ride a scooter around Alki, sit on a friend's roof downtown, and fall asleep next to a nice boy. Long live summer.

straight face

You wouldn't guess it by looking at me, but I am stressed the fuck out. I think I'm getting closer to the hole. In fact, I think I accidentally took a short cut to it, because I didn't really expect to be here so soon.

uh-oh

I spoke too soon. It looks like my sister is coming home earlier than anticipated... July 8th in fact. Operation: buy a scooter?

Baby needs wheels. Direction. A plan to set in motion.

Help.

booze snutton

I haven't been reading or writing lately. No new songs. A couple fresh jokes, a few magic tricks--but that's about it. But trust me, I've got some things in mind. I'm thinking hot dog water colors; I'm thinking Beat Salad. I'm thinking if I can't decide between living in Seattle or Portland, that I might just buy a van and live in it, traveling about the U.S. until I feel inspired to settle.

Hawaii is approaching, and hence, my deadline for making a decision. You see, I lose my automotive freedom at the beginning of August; my lovely sister will be making her North American return and reclaiming "my car". Then, I will spend ten days on a tropical island and return to a world in which I have no transportation. Ahhhh, circumstance. The catalyst for change. What's gonna happen, guys??? I've gotta go somewhere!

I've been hitting the snooze on this decision. Hard.

cuppets

Remember this great Lynnwood find featured about a year ago? Well, the Renton Value Village has granted me the other two cups of the set. I now have all four Great Muppet Caper Commemorative Glasses from 1981. I was so patient.