what i require

for the past 10 years i've been stubbornly single while secretly flirting with the idea of a relationship. with a dude. that i can kiss and hug and talk to and have sex with. sometimes dangerously so, sometimes disastrously so, sometimes shamelessly so. i've broken my own heart countless times in thinking about it, ogling and leering at it. i've been my own personal tease.

and since the tease is all about being vague, i have been afraid to put into words what i require in a romantic partner. afraid because words can limit the possibilities of awesomeness of this mythical person. i haven't lived enough life to know what this "everything" that a partner should be entails - i hope to never know because that means i'm still being surprised. i have been afraid because these words, while not carved in stone, are most definitely not drawn in sand either, making it hard to justify changes and corrections and evolutions.
i equate stating what i require to defining a "type" and i don't have a "type" to be honest. at least not in the conventional definition - i have no feature requirements (barring height because i've learned my lesson more than once with this), no job requirement, no income requirement, no kid wanting requirement or marriage requirement, etc. not that this is an invitation to the slackers out there, oh no, because you'll be joyfully working hard for this radtasticness, just not in the conventional way.

i've just recently started being comfortable even discussing aloud what my "requirements" are of a partner. as a matter of fact, i started thinking about this solely because a person i know, who i thought would be the consummate single person for the rest of their life mentioned in passing that they knew what they wanted in a relationship. and it shocked me and surprised me that they were even thinking about it. i couldn't let that stand! so, taking after the only person i've talked about this with, i'm going to put it down in writing so i can stop thinking about it.

these requirements are in no particular order:

- communication: i am a tactless and honest person. i don't know how to lie. as a matter of fact, i start to stutter and stumble over my words terribly when i attempt, what i believe to be, a blatant lie so, i'm going to be communicating with you FP (fictional partner - FP from now on) and i would very much appreciate the same courtesy. if we're not having enough sex for your liking FP, please tell me, i would be more than happy to fix that for you. if you don't like the way i kiss with a little nibble FP, please think of a solution that will satisfy you and tell me about it. if you don't like that i wake up in the double digits on the weekends because you feel like the day gets wasted and you start to resent me for it, by god! wake me up and tell me! i'm a big girl and i know that EVERYONE is different, but FP, i need you to realize that i cannot read your mind.
my parents have been married for 30 years. they still don't talk to each other. i see how they walk on eggshells around each other because of it and it kills me.

- attention: i'm not good at being in the spotlight, so i'm not saying i'm that girl who needs everything to be about me. rather, what i require from you FP, is for you to realize that i'm in the room when we're in the same place. we don't have to be attached at the hip, but it would be nice to feel your eyes on me at some point of the evening - preferably with salacious intentions behind them.
i would like it if you made me feel like enough of a girl with your attention that it encourages me to wear dresses - i would wear them for you FP - because i look pretty in them and have fabulous legs that go all the way up to my ass and because dresses almost demand that the wearer be treated like a girl.
say we're in a relationship that puts thousands of miles of physical distance between us... this attention would then be in the form of phone calls or letters (yes, real ones with stamps and handwriting and invisible skin flakes so i can get the tiniest whiff of you from the letter) or electronic communications. if you are text-happy or email-happy, i require a minimum of one phone call per week so i can put a voice to the attention that i'm getting, so it can feel real instead of mechanical. i can be very good at phone sex when necessary. i've watched a lot of porn (understatement). i know what they say. there is a distance caveat as well, but that is to be discussed at another time FP.

- affection: boy! is this an important one! the last relationship i was in, we had an unspoken "one foot" rule that was to be obeyed in public. well, HE had this rule. as in, there was always one foot distance between our physical beings when we were out together. i did not like this. and it will not be tolerated this time FP. there are several reasons that this will not stand.
i'm not saying that we need to be attached at the lip or be THAT pair that is disgustingly handsy and grindy and moany, the pair that everyone in the room is looking at and thinking "unless they throw down right here in the middle of the floor and give everyone a show, they need to find a freakin' bathroom stall". i would prefer if we weren't that pair.
what i require is the knowledge that i can run up to you in a room of people, grab your arm and whisper something pertinent, inane, silly or random in your ear whilst "unintentionally" rubbing my boob against your arm and leave you with a kiss on the neck just below your ear simply because i feel like it and not have you freak out that i'm touching you in public.
i like to touch and to be touched... any and all synonyms of the word "touch" - i like them all. i also like to hold hands. A LOT. i like that more than sex, to be honest. it makes me feel accepted and wanted and that's important to anyone. damn, that's another physical requirement - you'll need at least one hand FP.

- companionship: i require that you like to spend time with me. i know that's a deal-breaker for some, but seriously, you want my cooter? i want you to put some genuine time into it. i don't want to spend every excruciating second of every minute of every day with you and have you LOVE it, no. there's no might about it - i would definitely kill you were that the case. but i want you to say "yes" to my invitations to go see shows or a movie with me. or... OR i want you to invite me to something you want to go to - motocross, monster truck rally, lumberjack guild, hockey game, etc. - so we can spend time together. dates! dates, not "hanging out", are good! i like to do a lot of things so give me a try, i probably won't say no. unless you're talking about seal clubbing. or dog fighting. or going to a casino - don't ever invite me to a casino or place of gambling. this will be further discussed at a later date.

- passion: i require that you be passionate about something that is not me. bees. nascar. hand models. toy trains. the environment. lumberjacking. spoon collecting. road trips. foot-sploshing porn. hipsters. satanism. the demise of hipsters.
i want to listen to you talk about something that makes you light up from the inside. something that gets you excited like a little child. because, if you're excited about it, i'm bound to be curious and, in turn, get excited for you once you start telling me all about it. something that gets you so excited that you bounce a little while talking about it without even realizing. it doesn't have to be what you do for a living, although that is an added bonus, but, perhaps, something that makes what you do for a living worth it.
it is unacceptable if i ask you on our first date "what do you like to do?" and your only answer is "play on the computer" even after the 4th time i've asked you, implying "i understand that you like to play on the computer, could you maybe tell me what games you play on the computer?"

- sex: uhm... it is REQUIRED that you not be afraid of sex FP. it is REQUIRED that you like sex, love it even. i've met those dudes who are afraid and who don't like it before. surprising and FRUSTRATING. i like to have sex. a lot. and i like exploring new ways to have sex. a lot. i will NEVER be that woman that withholds sex for something. i'm just punishing myself then as well, right? right. i have no size requirements and we can work on stamina of all sorts together. if you've got all of the above as well as enthusiasm and willingness to learn and take direction, i have a feeling we'd be able to work it all out.

**THE KEY**: yes, you can have everything above and still not get it right. the key to all this is:
you need to be happy in, or find happiness in, being these things for me. otherwise everything is doomed from the start.
i'm extremely sensitive to how people are feeling - i can sense resentment and grumpiness and frustration and all these negative feelings and those feelings taint the wonderful things you do for me (or my magical cooter) making them bad and gross and... sullied. everything above is too pure and good to ever be sullied. sullying is not tolerated.
i've completed an informal survey of coffee shop patrons and 100% of them stated that, yes, they broke up with (or were broken up with by) their past partners because it just didn't make them happy to make their partners happy anymore. i know that happens. i know that people change. i like that people change, but don't let your unhappiness turn into resentment FP - go back to the first item on the list and talk to me about it.

with the above the more menial wants are:
- height: i'm 5'10". that's 177cm for you metric folks. i really need you to be at least 6' (183cm) tall because i don't want to deal with the asshole that comes out because of a measly 1.5 inches. and it would be nice and interesting to learn how to wear and walk in heels.
- challenge me!: this does not mean abuse me. :)
- be a meat eater: i am. like that and like that but still eat meat like that.
- do not take yourself too seriously. if you can't laugh at you, i will eventually begin to hate you and you will probably end up having a heart attack.
- like "blazing saddles": this shouldn't be difficult, it's only the greatest movie ever made. and if you are offended by it, the probability is HIGH that i will offend you at some point.

let me wrap this up by saying that i'm not requiring anything on this list that i'm not willing to give. excited about giving, even! at all. if i'm nothing else, i'm painfully fair.

my darling dearest seven:

it has been almost 2 months since i've written here! since i've visited you! i blame the writing class. that's all over. for now. until january 8th.
what i have learned from that class is that it takes a different kind of stamina than i have currently to write all the time and to write to someone else's specifications. the latter is the harder part, really. i'm still astounded by how utterly exhausted i was almost immediately upon completion of that class. and since i didn't have the luxury of sleeping in the next day or the day after that, i had to wait until friday night and saturday before i could truly give in to the tyty. and boy, did i ever. i slept soundly and throughly from 11:30pm to 4:15pm - 16 hours!! whoa! that's kind of unacceptable. :)

so, in an effort to increase my writing stamina, i intend to do a little writing all through this break. first things first, i'm going to do my kanye geek out for megz. then, i've been tossing around a dream expansion/maybe short story thing. but i'm not sure about that one. i'll take ideas from other people as well to see what happens.

i am thoroughly enjoying reading for pleasure right now - mr. wesley stace is pulling me along at a gentle pace, but i have a feeling it's going to get meatier in a bit - we're onto the shaving part already!

i promise not to neglect you so in the future. i need to see you as the valuable tool that you are and take advantage of you!

kisses!

i love tom waits (but not only for the reasons you may think)

i LOVE tom waits. he fills my geeky heart to beyond full for several reasons.
yes, he's an incredible and unique artist and musician in his own right, making use of the tools at his disposal, whether they're "acceptable" to others (the mainstream) or not.
yes, he writes awesomely rad songs and has a wonderful vision of music that he manages to convey in the most unexpected ways.

but today, i love tom waits because he too, is a music geek. and now i feel like i can relate on a completely different level.
tom waits is one of MAYBE a handful of musicians who would be able to say "i don't go see live music. why should i?" or "i don't like live shows or listening to other musicians - it distracts my 'vision' and songwriting ability" and have those sentiments not distract from the value of my listening experience.

i do not understand musicians who don't go to live shows or listen to music. i don't understand writers who don't read. i don't understand artists who don't enjoy art. i know these people, but i do not understand them.
and, admittedly, i'm judgy of them because it seems snooty to me. how can you think that you have nothing to learn from others who are doing the same thing you are on some level? that you're the be all and end all? how can your music, writing, art, etc. grow if you limit your perspective so much? how can you NOT find something to appreciate?

*tangent start*
ten years ago i dated a musician who didn't go to live shows of current musicians, who didn't listen to other current music. he wouldn't go see or listen to anyone who started making music during or after he started making music because "they're doing the same thing as i am" (his words, not mine) it took all i had not to say, "yeah, well, they're playing to *insert any number here* people every night and you're not. you don't think you might have something to learn from them? you don't think there's something to appreciate about that?" i had to keep the peace somehow, right? sensitive guy joes, those musicians. he wasn't very good then and something tells me he isn't very good now.
besides, he made me go see the cure. and i didn't like the cure to begin with, but seeing robert smith blown up into a large sad clown with bad makeup and scraggly, electrified hair only made me pity him, not appreciate him.
*tangent end*

but tom waits? tom waits goes to live shows. tom waits is geeky enough about music that he'll call up his "people" and say, "how do i get to talk to _______?"
and then it happens.
and then he writes about it.
in mojo.
and it's awesome.
as a matter of fact, the first line in the article i just read (thanks meg) is, "i first saw hank iii maybe two years ago..." implying that he's seen hank iii live more than once!
what??!

TOM WAITS IS A MUSIC GEEK.

it is my dream that one day i will have some kind of mystical sway and that i will have "people" that i can "call" and say "how do i get to talk to tom waits?" so we can geek out together about music and books and everything.
and then it'll happen.
and then i'll write about it.
it won't show up anywhere. except, maybe, here.
and then he'll write about it.
in mojo.
and it will be incredibly surreal and awesome.

i think i'm just going to use awesome one more time in this post.

awesome.

advice

from one "professional" to... all you out there.
if you intend to purchase a home or refinance your current home, do everyone involved in the process a favor:

do NOT send double-sided copies of the information we request, you patchouli-doused hippies. this does NOT save trees. you know why? because we just make copies of the other sides and VOILA! another tree dead.
as well, do not provide items that are STAPLED. nonono. we're smart and can figure out when one bank statement ends and another begins. we remove the staples anyway. and if we miss one, it totally fucks up the endless copying we have to do.

we understand that you do this out of the kindness of your heart, thinking that it helps us and/or the precious "environment".
that's very nice of you.
really
.
.
.
but when you do this we totally call you nasty names behind your back and curse the horse you rode in on.
just letting you know.

w.h.i.s.k.e.y.

"what does a double jamesons run here?"
"five (shown with her delicate hand, each digit splayed)"
"three shots please." as i lay my id and the twenty dollar bill flat on the mahogany
she brings the three double shots over, examines my id and takes the cash
"do you want to ope..." "wait"
"i don't need anything back. keep it"
first shot goes down. deep and sweet
"are you su.."
halfway through the second shot...
"please. keep it."
"ok."

"rough day?"
"understatement." as i pick up the third
the third is gone and i leave the cellar. 1/3 of the people who saw me come in are watching me leave

i feel it pouring down my esophagus. warm and tingly, as i round onto overton
i feel it warming me on my left
then on my right

in my tummy now - as i head home in the chill
so warm and comforting
it's in my intestines now
as i step into my apartment
i can feel the comforting tingle in my toes
as i crack open another oatmeal creme pie
"mmmm.... whiskey. you make everything ... almost... livable."

learning

the hard way that there is an enormously ravenous divide between "will do" and "want to".

only sometimes is there an imperceptible and highly-precarious bridge between the two.

too bad it can't be as fun as "3 the hard way" (HA!) or even "7 the hard way".(OUCH!)

thinking

i choose to think about the rain as iocaine powder: with exposure to small doses and gradual increases, i will eventually build up an immunity.

i'm just going to say it:

going out by yourself is RIDICULOUSLY LAME.

for years now i've done almost all my "socializing" (i use that term extremely loosely) by going out by myself - not going out alone to meet up with people, but...

going. out. alone. full stop.
no one to dance with, no one to laugh with, no one to talk to, no one to observe other people with, no one to share awesome rad new bands with. you get the picture.
oh, and you're also that chick that people look at with pity because you're alone, but they don't pity your situation enough to want to talk to you. i get those looks EVERYDAY.

over the years i've kept my chin up about it. i tell everyone "it's all good, i LIKE doing things on my own". which was true at one time. and which is still true SOMETIMES. but doing things alone is so much more rad when you have the option of going with someone else. you savor the time alone more.
sweetly supportive people in couple units try their best to grin and say "that's great that you can do that!" while inwardly thinking, "gee, that sucks." and they're right. it sucks limey donkey balls.

i'm so over this. it has just gotten worse with time, not better. i do this to myself and i wish i knew how to stop.

joel plaskett radness couldn't even get me out of this funk, so i'm pulling out the big guns: "the incredible mr. limpet". this better work.

touch

human touch is a strong and incredible tool that i don't think enough of us realize we have at our disposal. it makes us feel connected to one another. it promotes trust in one another. it allows for the trade of energy between people. the way people touch one another speaks volumes about how they feel about each other.
for me, personally, touch relaxes. and, since i don't get a lot of it, it haunts me.

the feeling of a hand at the small of my back makes me feel protected and guided. and i'm totally cool if that hand "accidentally" moves down to grab a little ass.
the feeling of a hand stroking my back in long, assertive strokes makes me limp and purr like a kitten. it's soothing and relaxing - the more assertive the pressure, the more relaxed i get. i feel like i can let the world go and breathe the way i'm meant to breathe when someone strokes my back like that.
hugs are awesome. with the right hug, i can melt into the other person and not even notice the world around me which is a right tough thing for me to do any other time. a hug lets me forget about all the aholes i have to deal with on a daily basis. and there are so many different kinds of hugs for different situations, they're like languages in their variety and, therefore, fascinating to me.
i loath to mention this, but i think it's a lovely idea: we all know my slight disdain for one jason "chapman" (ok, jason mraz - but he sounds like tracy chapman!) but that dude has a tattoo on his shoulder that simply says "rest area" and i LOVE that idea. because it's so true. and that's what hugs do - they're fuel.
kisses are similar to hugs, but the minor differences make them vastly different. i don't even think i have words for kisses, all i know is that my mouth and i remember them all. some, most definitely, more than others.
holding hands has to be my most cherished form of touch. more than hugs, more than kissing, more than sex, more than anything else is holding hands. its such a simple gesture and it says so much, consciously and unconsciously. holding hands between friends and lovers says (to me) "hey, i'm hanging out with/lovin' on this person and i don't care who knows it." holding hands is subtle and powerful. lots of energy, calming, healing, nurturing energy is passed through the hands.

i think about all these things, and in this detail, because i CRAVE human touch. and as much as i crave it, is as little of it as i receive.
the last hug i had was just over a month ago. the last hand holding, as well, just over a month ago. the last squishy, melty, "let everything go" hug, 5 months ago. last drunken kiss, january 3, 2010. last sober kiss, 1 year ago.

i can't remember the last time someone held my hand in public.

these statistics make me sad. they make me feel cold. they make me feel unlovable and untouchable. they make me feel empty and devoid of human connection. and i'm not sure how to make it better. do i just go up to random strangers and say "hey, let's hold hands"?

like that's going to win me any favors.

thanks for the vent, blog.

lunch time

it's rare that i take a lunch here at my job. there are several reasons that factor into this, but the main one is that i just don't have anywhere to go at lunch and i don't do too well being idle, so i just stay at my desk because i ALWAYS have work to do. i realize that this isn't the best thing in the world - it's an issue i've had everywhere i've worked.
well, today, i've found a solution. we had an un-warned-about, un-planned-for fire drill today and while everyone was milling around the parking lot waiting for "them" to let us back in, i found a random patch of grass under a tree and just plopped down and enjoyed the sun and shade and the green green GRASS! i laid there only about 15 minutes, but i felt so relaxed afterward.

this is my new lunch time activity while the weather is still nice. if you want to find me, look for a patch of grass and i'll be there.

ps - the small faces station on pandora is the BEST STATION EVER.

another gripe

dear august in portland:

do you know what i bought today?

a DOWN COMFORTER. warmth level 4.

why? because last night was COLD and tonight will be too.

did you know it was 102 in austin today with a heat index of 108? why can't you take a little bit of that away from them?

that's all.

ps - why does my computer beep at me everytime i type "from"?

soopa!

dear supergreens:

you are gross. your chocolate flavoredness is even grosser. and you give me a weird kind of reflux if i don't have food within about 30 minutes of drinking you that i can only imagine is heartburn. i've never really had heartburn, so i don't know.

but you make me feel AMAZING. and so INSTANTLY.

example: i was feeling like SHIT ON A STICK on saturday morning when i went to school for an open house. i should have been excited. it was school! there were cookies! but no, i wanted to toss my cookies instead. so, i left early and remembered as i was limping home that i needed to get you so i could build my immune system and stop being in this weird "i can't move after 7:30pm because i'm SO EXHAUSTED" thing i've had going on for the past few weeks. i stop by the new seasons and get some, get home, wait about 30 minutes and then have a scoop with some water.
geh. you are SO gross. but you're going to curb my chocolate milk addiction, so that's good.
i shit you not, 10 minutes later i was no longer blech-y in the stomach and i had this surge of energy that lasted well into the night. i was zoomin' everywhere!

and then i did it again on sunday. same results!!

and this morning - before swimming?? awesome perfection radness!

i guess i gotta keep drinking you. you're good for me and (my) shit, so i guess you're gonna stay around.

friday night musings

lately i've been thinking about the factory settings in/on people, mainly with regards to hearts and how they feel. in general... about certain things... and if certain thoughts or feelings are, indeed, set in the factory or are they after-market modifications?
here's my game for you:

FACTORY SETTING (are we born this way?)
or
AFTER-MARKET MODIFICATION (does culture/setting/how we were raised/etc effect our feelings about "x"?)

monogamy?
promiscuity?
homosexuality?
heterosexuality?
asexuality?
comfort in solitude?
the NEED to be with others/another or co-dependency?
acceptance? of others. of yourself. of situations.
judgment? of others. of yourself. of situations.
fear? of others. of yourself. of situations.
honesty? with others. with yourself. with situations.
magic?
music?
creativity?
spirituality (however you may define that)?
fortitude?
stamina/patience? for others. for yourself. for situations.

are we programmed at the beginning to love certain people or all people? no matter their character, standing, attitude, in spite of their shortcomings and overwhelmingly for their attractive qualities? i know that our capacity to love others is heavily influenced by many outside factors, but - even though i know i'll never know - i'll never stop wondering about that capacity, pure and untarnished.

i happen to like the random, kinda junky and cluttered, but wholly magical place where i gathered my after-market modifications. i feel like 90% of them are definite and awesome upgrades. the other 10%? well... who wants to be 100% awesome 100% of the time? that's gotta be 47% exhausting!

maybe because it's friday and a walk about the neighborhood shows that it's date night. it gets my brain working overtime about how people in pairs interact with each other and why they do it - imagining scenarios and little vignettes about pairs based on the brief and passing energy i sense from them. maybe that's why i get to wondering about these things. if nothing else, it'll get my half-a-reader to thinking. *grin*

things like this make me want to randomly blurt out "lickalottapuss!" and then laugh like a deranged 6 year old.

gata

this cat. this cat thinks that i'm it's person that feeds it (i never have and i never will). this cat thinks that my house is it's house. this cat follows me everywhere i go. i negotiate with it for 5 minutes every evening so i can get into my house without it jetting in behind me.
this cat is ALWAYS purring. sometimes it's an angry purr, sometimes it's an awesome purr. it's entire body moves when it purrs - it purrs so strongly. this cat has MAJOR amounts of energy. and not necessarily the playful, bouncy energy that cute kittehs have, no, this cat exudes intense energy.
this cat is super overstimulated. to the point where it'll come up to me, wind through my legs for about 10 minutes, obviously wanting some love, and i'll do a little VERY light petting, and then, when it is indicating that it wants more petting and i give it what it wants, it screeches, hisses and runs away for a minute then looks at me and comes back.

this cat only does all of the above with me.

why does that sound familiar?

conversations with the fuzzy sweater

fuzzy sweater (fs): *yawn* heeeeeeyy shannon... wha... why are you pulling me out? isn't it, uh...

me: isn't it 2 o'clock in the afternoon on a beau... bal... sum... um, July 31st? why yes, yes it is.

fs: uhm... *awkward silence*

me: no, it's not ironical. it's ridiculously necessary.

here's portland's wholly deserved WHAT. THE. FUCK.

swan song

dear genie:

tomorrow marks your swan song. the last day you will take me to work, possibly the last day you are "in commission". though our time together has been short, it's been intense and i will miss you a whole heck of a lot.
you were everything i needed in our short time together. you got me to portland without a hitch. you got me around enough to get a job. i love that you were my house for a month when i first got here to portland. it wasn't as bad as most people may think - i think we had fun together trying to find the good places to be every night, trying to find the free internet, keeping each other safe through the nights. i love that you had "tricks" to you. that you have a unique "anti-theft device" in the guise of a screwhead on the driver side door panel. i love your sounds (except that death-dealing grindy whir) and rattles.

the happy screw:


i'm donating you to kexp because the dealership said that it would be more for them to do all the title stuff, etc. needed to get you all ready to go than they would give me for you as a trade-in.
i like that you will go to a cause that's near and dear to my heart and ears. i hope they fix you and that you make kexp lots of money from your sale at auction. until i know though, you are being gracefully sent to car heaven where you will romp with broncos and mustangs galore in fields of fluffy grass and fun 4-wheelin' hijinx.

i love you genie!

evil

saint cupcake. yes, you are evil. why? several reasons:

- you have "dots" where it makes you feel like you're not being so bad by only having a tiny cupcake
- there's something magically smooth, yet "staying" about your frosting
- you have day-old mystery boxes for only $5 - 12 dots or 6 whole cupcakes
- you are 5 blocks from my house

what you see above are the red velvet and a "big top" dots. the big top is a cupcake with chocolate chips. like a chocolate chip cookie cupcake.

moral dilemma

ok, so, i need to get a bike (amongst many other things at this juncture) so i can get off my scared ass and get riding around. and there is this SUPER CUTE little red bike that's just my style that's sitting right outside the courtyard.



it's been sitting there neglected for the month that i've been here. i pass by it, looking at it longingly, everyday. it has COBWEBS on the handlebars, that's how long it's been sitting there waiting for someone to love it and ride it.

question: is it wrong that i want to pop the U-lock on it and love it up and make it mine? because i would and could, but i don't want to break some weird karmic law. i feel like the owner or whomever put it there and ignored it has broken a karmic law by doing that! but that may just be my justification for wanting it and wanting to make it mine.

thoughts? i need a moral compass here. *smile*

i've got it!

i know why i'm so... grrrrrr... about working in mortgage again. its because i now have a goal. a goal that will get me out of mortgage and hopefully into something i dig doing. and now that i have a goal and am outlining a plan, i have no patience for the job i do or the idiots i work with. it's such a rad plan!! i wanna do it now!! geesh!

tmobile

is going to make me cry. they are asshated motherfuckers and can't seem to do anything right. i'm going on day FOUR of trying to get a TMOBILE NUMBER PORTED TO A TMOBILE ACCOUNT. how fucking hard can that be?!?! and they can't tell me what the hold up is just that they need another 24 hours. just like they needed another 24 hours the day before. and another 24 hours the day before that.

i want my phone number goddammit!! and i want to punch someone in the dick. and i want a hot fudge sundae. and i want to cry.

recurring - interpretations welcome!

PART of a dream. i would not mind an interpretation.

there is a older white minivan - a chrysler town and country to be exact, but the totally boxy looking '80's one - parked facing downward on a slight hill with no other cars around. sometimes there are small children (between 1 and 4 in quantity) sometimes there are old people, sometimes it's just one or 2 "normal" people, but there's always some kind of people life in the vehicle.
this minivan is a kind of experiment or test vehicle used for training purposes for a type of entity of which i'm not sure yet. and in every dream, the van blows up - but always in a different way. it seems that the people who are in training (never the same as the people in the van) are supposed to fix the van or prevent it from blowing up or do something with regards to the van without thought to the people inside. sometimes the people inside die, sometimes, they're just severely hurt, but they're just left there.
along with all this, there is a corporatey sciency aspect to it because there is always reference to and a flash to a very clean and clinical looking office setting where muckety-mucks are sitting around a conference table analysing the explosion and casualties and how the van did this with this stimulus, etc. etc. etc.

this little vignette has shown up in my dreams for the past few nights, whether i've been dreaming about something similar or not. and sometimes the van blows up more than once, kind of like in a loop. AND IT'S REALLY WEIRD. so, you take it from here. what kind of sex do i need to have now?? *grin*

dear body

what is wrong with you?

yesterday, the entire contents of what i put in my mouth to eat is as follows:

- 2 eggs, chicken sausage and spinach scramble
- water (LOTS)
- hot chocolate from a "sachet" (said like "tar-jey")
- poached salmon fillet with brown rice
- 1 bana..nana...na?
- 1 small coconut water

that's not a lot of food. and i did hot yoga yesterday. and i was feeling FULL OF FOOD at hot yoga even though the last time i ate was 6.5 hours previous - to the point that it was affecting my practice. it felt like i ate only 20 minutes before the class.

and i'm STILL not hungry.

are you just so excited to have "normal" food in you again that you are taking your time processing it?

is everything ok? because this is unusual.

important

i'm a little different than others.

as i was walking out of the office today, i was juggling 2 bottles of wine, 2 zombie movies, a bottle of water and a peanut butter cookie in my arms. i looked down and thought to myself:

"everything that's important in life is right here in my arms."

i haven't been ignoring you, i sware!

it's just hard to have clear coherent thoughts when you have to be on all the time or when you don't know when your quiet time is going brutally interrupted! it's no excuse, i know, but it's what i've got.

in lieu of silent time and coherent thoughts, i've been reading. a lot. and these are a few chunks of text that have really hit me, courtesy of henry miller. i love henry miller because i know that i only want to read him when i need to. and i love that he's a constant reminder that i'm not completely off my rocker in the way i feel and think about things.


"you will soon tire of being forever mysterious. it is like standing before the mirror all day. i see you from behind the mirror. the mystery is not in what you do but in what you are. when i take you out of this morbid life you will be naked as a statue. now your beauty is all furniture. it has been moved around too much. we must put it back where it belongs - on the rubbish pile. once upon a time, i thought that everything had to be expressed poetically or musically. i did not realize that there was a place and a reason for ugly things. for me the worst was vulgarity. but vulgarity can be honest, even pleasing, as i discovered. we do not need to raise everything to the level of the stars. everything has its foundation of clay. even helen of troy. no one, not even the most beautiful of women should hide behind her own beauty."

AND

"it there is anything which deserves to be called miraculous, is it not love? what other power, what other mysterious force is there which can invest life with such undeniable splendor?
the bible is full of miracles, and they have been accepted by thinking and unthinking individuals alike. but the miracle which everyone is permitted to experience sometime in his life, the miracle which demands no intervention, no intercessor, no supreme exertion of will, the miracle which is open to the fool and the coward as well as the hero and the saint, is love. born of an instant, it lives eternally. if energy is imperishable, how much more so is love! like energy, which is still a complete enigma, love is always there, always on tap. man has never created an ounce of energy, nor did he create love. love and energy have always been, will always be. perhaps in essence they are one in the same. why not? perhaps this mysterious energy which is identified with the life of the universe, which is god in action, as someone has said, perhaps this secret, all-invasive force is but the manifestation of love. what is even more awesome to consider is that, if there be nothing in our universe which is not informed with this unseizable force, then what of love? what happens when love (seemingly) disappears? for the one is no more indestructible than the other. we know that even the deadest particle of matter is capable of yielding explosive energy. and if a corpse has life, as we know it does, so has the spirit which once made it animate. if lazarus was raised from the dead, if jesus rose from his tomb, then whole universes which now cease to exist may be revived, and doubtless will be revived, when the time is ripe. when love, in other words, conquers over wisdom."

i love...

the MJCC. a lot. and i'm trying REALLY HARD to justify the $62/mo it is for me to go there when it's only $34/mo at the 24 hour fitness for all clubs. besides having a big, clean, happy pool with an early morning master swim that i can drop in on anytime, they have:

- hair dryers in the locker room
- towel service
- toiletries that you may have forgotten are provided
- a suit spinner
- saunas, steam rooms and spas IN EACH LOCKER ROOM
- a separate 'warm water' pool for aqua aerobics (so you don't have people walking up and down your lane when you're trying to swim). oh, and they have WATER YOGA?? i have to try that one.
- drop-in martial arts classes
- BATTING CAGES: what?!?! oh yes, batting cages.

everyone there is super duper nice and it's not a meat market (well, it's a kosher meat market *grin*) with girls with the fake boobalas wearing a thick patina of makeup to work out (i never understood that) and it's just a really chill environment.

i'm pretty sure that the batting cages are going to be what tips the scales in the MJCC's favor.

things i miss

bed. you know, a mattress with boxsprings.
down comforters
more than one l pillow
bath tub
private toilet
gas money
comfy couches
stove
hot meals
refrigerator
face scrub
"real" face moisturizer
books
cds
my ipod
multiple pairs of pants
variety in clothing and shoes
netflix
TCM

there's more, i'm sure, but i can't think of them right now. and please note: people aren't things. *grin*

realization

i know what it is about josh ritter's new album that i'm lukewarm about: josh ritter made a paul simon record. it's cool yo, nothing wrong with a little paul simon, i like him as much as the next guy. but josh ritter is better than making someone else's album. that's all i'm saying.

dear josh ritter:

i'm listening to your new album. i'm not sure how to feel about it. it's pretty mellow compared to the last one and i'm curious to see how you bring the upbeaty-ness to a live show.

while i INSTANTLY fell in love with the historical conquests... - i don't think i can adequately stress how instantly i fell for this album - this one is going to take some time i think. it's ok though, the animal years took a few listens at the right time to really grow on me and now i LOVE it.

maybe it's that the only other music i've listened to in the past 3 weeks is one ep - 8 songs - of pure rock pop awesomeness (here's my shout out to wirepony's right hook of love) and was looking forward to something more rhythm section driven and obvious like historical conquests.... this is sounding really... swirly and perhaps a touch over-produced? i don't know - something about it just isn't hitting me the right way. i think i wanted something i could jump up and bounce around to - a song or two at minimum - but i haven't found that yet upon my initial two listens. i WANT to love this instantly, i really really do. i'm so excited about it. but it's not there yet. i guess i'm lukewarm.

oregonian shameful pleasure

here it is:



the QFC. hello throwback from the seattle days!

you might say to yourself, "gee shannon, it's just a grocery store, why is it so shameful that you shop there?" my answer to that is as follows: "i don't know, maybe you can ask all these portlanders are all up on sustainability and healthy eating and healthy living but they ALL smoke. i bet they'll have an awesome answer for you!"
i'm not sure if it's hipster angst or snobbery or the beards or what, but it is totally uncool to shop at the QFC. this is evidenced by the fact that there is NEVER anyone in that store when i go in, and i've been in every hour of the day. and when QFC is mentioned, i feel like there is someone who overheard it 14 feet away that spit at the mention of the name of that store.

why do i love the QFC?
1. coconut water for ONE DOLLAR. WHAT?!
being a hot yoga-ing fool, i like the coconut water because it gets me through the class at the new torture chamber that has RADIANT HEATING IN THE FLOORS. it's not enough that it vacillates between 105 and 109 degrees in the room throughout the class, but they had to go and put heating in the floor, my one salvation. A-HOLES. the coconut water keeps me hydrated in electrolytes enough to make it through the class. anyhoo, coconut water anywhere else is $2 for the smaller portions, up to $2.39 for the "normal" sizes and to $8 for the humongo ones. $1 is a deal that i don't think i'll ever be able to beat.
2. rice dream horchata for $1.99
yes, they have my rice dream horchata - aka: liquid crack - here. everywhere else it ranges from $3.29 to $4 for the box. here, my addiction is fueled for a mere $1.99.
3. i got a weeks worth of food including said coconut water, horchata, tons of yogurt, 3 packages of healthy-ish english muffins, peanut butter and more for $23. that's right bitches. TWENTY-THREE DOLLARS.
4. it's never crowded - see reasons mentioned above.
5. it's open 24 hours.

while QFC will not be my main store of choice once i plant baby roots here and start getting around to the trader joes and the new seasons and the fred meyer (even though the fred meyer is just one step away from being the dreaded QFC - they ARE owned by the same company) and all the different co-ops here and the farmers' markets, i will always have a special place in my heart for it and the secretly corporately low prices they give me on my otherwise, admittedly, over-priced purchases.

i love you QFC. i do.

safari II

observation log 10.04.14:

0710am: dmbc and i observed specimen from 10.04.05 again today after nine days of speculation. it came up behind us this morning and we were able to get a better and closer look at his conformation. contrary to previous estimates, subject seems to be merely 17 hands high rather than 18. subject in action is lithe, calm and self-assured.

unfortunately, subject drives a minivan. EPIC FAIL!

observation

two people are sitting at the coffee shop having a very civilized and almost dignified sounding conversation. one party asks why the cupcakes here are better than what they can make at home. the other party says something about consistency and texture.

now, when I answer that same question in my head, i have a completely dead-pan face and say, "drugs."

herein lies the reason i don't talk to a lot of new people.

safari

observation log 10.04.05

0645: dmbc and i gathered at the swimming hole where we beheld a rare and mysterious creature. a creature of a species that i have not lain eyes on in the more than 30 days i've been in this environment.
the subject was male. it's conformation was stunning - measuring an estimated 18 hands high, healthy muscle tone, average to generous and unaltered hair growth patterns on both the head and body, strikingly angular facial features and piercing eyes. the subject's paler complexion denotes non-nativeness to this area.
what makes this subject particularly rare is its age – over the age of a university student and under the age of the typical retired person – and its seeming lack of attachment to a mate. admittedly, the second observation is a grand assumption on the observer's part, to be confirmed upon verbal verification, due to the lack of a ring on the appointed finger. observer has learned its lesson in relying on this as a sign of bond – this has tricked me before.
the subject seemed aware of the scarcity of its kind, and seemed to revel in it slightly, trading brief glances with the observer.
will update log with further sightings and/or results of verbal communication.

seriously, this is the first (seemingly) single male i've seen in my “age range” in more than 40 days. where i'm at, the majority of the populous is retirees, couples and families mixed in with the occasional university student. it truly was a shock and surprise to see something like that. especially because he was pretty effin' hot.
the cherry on top? Not a speedo wearer. sweet.

be warned - the following is a long, steaming, heaping pile of...

awesome.

please note: this isn't my ideal means of reconnection or communication of this topic, but geography and money and all those general life circumstances keep me from having the face-to-face conversations on an individual basis that i would prefer to have regarding this situation. unfortunately, this is the most convenient means of communicating what i want and need to get out here.

here's the short version of what's been going down for those of you with tiny attention spans: the last 4 months of 2009 were – well - to be honest, using the phrase “absolute shit” to describe them would be a delightfully buoyant understatement. to be wholly truthful, the last half of 2008 through to the end of 2009 was pretty lame and stupid, but it had it's bright spots. But those last few months of '09 definitely sucked dirty monkey balls. it all got to a point where i just didn't want to deal with any of it anymore, and since i'm too lazy and curious about outcomes to concoct some lame and useless attempt on my life, i decided to do what i do best and run away from it all. i sold literally everything i own bar the few items that would fit into a backpack the size of a carry-on bag and bought a one-way ticket to europe. i wandered around northern europe for a few months during the coldest winter in the past decade – smart, i know - until my money got dangerously low; low enough for only a plane ticket back to the states where i knew i could get a job and earn money. So i came back and realized how crazy i really went (completely and totally batshit crazy to be exact) and now i'm in crazy rehab. details for the stout of span below.

let's start at the beginning, shall we? end of 2009 sucked. super duper bad. we don't need to go into those details. we're just going to leave it at “it sucked and then i cried” (hello dooce reference) and go into the things that i did at that time in the midst of the crazy i was in that i didn't know i was in. it has been established that i ran away from it all, but it was much more than that. in order to run away this time, i tried to completely erase all parts of my “former” self and start a new self to see what would happen. i changed my name. legally. i have whole new identification and passports and addresses and everything. i got rid of my phone and phone number. i no longer answer email at the address that everyone had for me. i sent 2 letters out at this time - one to my parents telling them that they sucked, why they sucked and that they should fuck off because i'm removing myself from their lives (admittedly, the sole smart thing I did throughout this whole process) and the other to someone who didn't deserve to bear the weight of what i sent to her and who had so many other, more important things going on in her life, essentially telling her and anyone that she or i knew, that i'm removing myself from her life, from everyone's lives because mine sucks. that one i'm truly and deeply sorry and regretful for. i SERIOUSLY lost my grip on reality, but it all seemed so sane at the time - i didn't want to know anyone because i didn't want anyone to know me and how much of a fuck up I felt like at the time. while i was in europe, i realized and – finally – truly understood what troy told me all those years ago as we were driving back from a hotel cafe show and what they tell you all the time in AA – wherever you go, there you are. and when i realized that, i said, “DAMMIT” in that whiny, “oh, crap” kind of way. so, say it while you can troy lee wells, you certainly did tell me so.

before we delve further into the crazy, I am going to take this moment to reflect on europe/travels:

ireland:
- the dudes there are everything that everyone says they are. AWESOME and the epitome of dudeness and they fully embrace and appreciate it and could give a fuck less about what anyone else thinks of it
- the food there sucks. totally sucks. it's no wonder they all drink so much
- bulmers is far too delicious and lovely to not be in the states
- i saw a little green and a little rolling under all the white snow and it was very pretty
- you have magical animals that i've not seen anywhere else
- cork is my favorite city of yours. galway might have been if it weren't so cold that it bit my face off
- i met more french people in ireland than i did in france. discuss

france:
- paris, -i liked you a whole hell of a lot more than i thought i would. A LOT
- parisians, you are not as asshole-y as the rest of the world makes you out to be. you just like things the way that they are and aren't too into change - there's nothing wrong with that
- shakespeare's: it took you to show me that i really am a romantic. maybe not in the traditional sense of romanticism, but i'll take any sense i can get
- the food here is perfection. the air smells like fresh baked bread and i wanted to take large gulping bites of it
- you had a lot more green than ireland did
- you like lady gaga. a lot. somehow, this doesn't surprise me. i managed to last the year and a half or so of her american blitz on media and radio without setting eye or ear on her, but i just couldn't avoid her there
- thank you for being the only country i went to where it didn't snow continuously

belguim:
- you're weirdly funny and sterile all at the same time. i'm not sure what to make of you
- when i was in brussels and ordered sprouts (only), brussels sprouts are the ones that came out
- please make a decision on what language you speak. do you speak french, dutch or flemish? it is very confusing for me
- your waffles aren't any better than the ones i've had elsewhere. and, contrary to popular demand, neither are your fries. Sorry

netherlands:
- you have very tall people. i finally found a place where i can wear heels and not feel like i'm towering over everyone
- your pot is STRONG and delicious
- most of your “bars” only have one or 2 types of beer and it's usually light. what's up with that??
- your people are VERY logical, almost robotic-ly so. it makes their art and their view on art kinda funny
- maastricht's carnival is awesome. maastricht's dialect is not so awesome because I don't speak it
- the girls i met there were very nice and i totally wore out my welcome
- you are the only country i went into a mcdonalds in. and it was only for the stropewaffel mcflurry – totally worth it
- one of your jealous girlfriends left me with a scar
- when an american sees jon dee graham in your country, he will make that american homesick. really really homesick

ireland (again):
- man, your dudes really are awesome. you should bottle whatever it is they have and sell it (i know now it's NOT jameson)

mexico:
- you have obscenely beautiful sunsets in juarez
- thank you for finally not making me feel like i'm prey whenever i walk into your country
- your food is AMAZINGLY DELICIOUS. i'm seriously wondering what the taco bell people were eating, or what crack they were on, when they got the idea for marketing gorditas because they are NOTHING like real gorditas
- i like your colorfulness
- i like your nonplussed-ness about the cops in riot gear in every corner
- you think i'm a funny gringa for not being scared about being there and not speaking a lick of spanish. ha!
- your coca-cola is significantly yummier than the stuff in the states. i won't ever have american coke again

back from europe and to the crazy:
i got back onto american soil and i thought i had a plan laid out. i was going to go to this town and start my life there and this is how my life was going to be, etc. etc. etc. and it most definitely did not work out that way. i ended up getting even further into the depression that i was already in and nothing seemed right or clear. at that time, i was offered a chance to go to crazy rehab, so i jumped on it.
the first thing i did when i got to crazy rehab was realize that when i went crazy (some people would soften it by calling it a "mid-life crisis" but i like to call a spade a spade), i did some things that were stupid and silly and drastic, but i don't and won't regret (all but one of) the things i did, because they were all the things i needed to do to get to crazy rehab, which is a pretty good place for me right now. and it is most definitely not the place i thought i would end up at this point.

in crazy rehab, i found that it's a rather evident pattern in my life for me to "go 'round my fist to get to my thumb" to use a cute, often under-appreciated southern expression. it means that i take the scenic route to the places in my life that i need to be - places that are usually right there in front of me. i kind of like that about me.
in crazy rehab, i have chores so i can develop self-discipline (of which I have none, but you all knew that): i go to yoga in the morning, i sweep the entire house everyday, i do the dishes after every meal and i read.
i'm VERY surprised about how quickly the days pass with the seemingly little i have to do. i'm also surprised that i haven't gotten bored yet. a few days after i got here, we discussed a 21-day plan to exorcise the crazy or at least get me to learn to live with and accept it and how to work with it in my everyday life. thus far, it's very interesting to see the progress - some days are wonderful and the crazy is controlled or satiated. some days, the crazy is back in full force. that's when i start to hyperventilate. those latter days are coming less and less, which is how i'm tracking my progress.
in crazy rehab, i've found that being crazy is similar to being an alcoholic – in AA they tell you that you're never “cured” of alcoholism, you'll always be an alcoholic learning to live each day without a drink because every day is different and will present you with different challenges. crazy is the same way. there is no cure for crazy, and i've learned that i will always be crazy, but here i'm getting the tools i need to embrace and appreciate and accept the crazy so that i can learn to live with it in my everyday life in a more constructive way than i have in the past. that's kind of comforting to tell you the truth - it's one less thing i have to worry about changing of fixing.

in crazy rehab, i realized the extent to which i went crazy and i also realized that i can, and need to, undo some of the things that i did, if possible. i'm changing my name back – it was weird for me to answer to that other name anyway. i need to do that to show that i'm willing to accept and love the crazy that i've had my whole life.
i'm not going back to austin right now. i knew in april of last year that my time in austin was coming to a close for now. i'm not saying i won't ever go back because i LOVE that place so freaking much, but it's not the place for me right now.
i want to bring the people back into my life that i left, if they'll have me. i know that i was an asshole for doing the things that i did and in the way that i did them and that i'll never know what that did to some people and i'm ready to accept if they aren't ready to let me back into their lives - those are the consequences to be paid. but i would be forever humbled and grateful for the forgiveness and understanding of those who would invite me back into their lives.

today, i turn 30. today, i've been at crazy rehab for 30 days (yeah... the crazy was re-evaluated and we realized that 21 days wasn't enough). on days like this - with this pattern - i would usually find a 30 oz. hamburger with 30 sauteed mushrooms and 30 squirts/dots of mustard and a bun with 30 sesame seeds on it and eat it with gusto and vomit most of it up 30 minutes later. but, of course, today is good friday and, being the intermittent and mediocre former catholic that i am, i don't eat meat today (thanks jesus), so i will instead have 30 nonpariels that have only 30 sprinkles on them and eat them all within 30 seconds so that i'm sick to my stomach for at least the following 30 minutes. or maybe i'll have 30 cupcakes. or 30 lattes. or 30 hot do... dangit jesus! definitely something with food and 30.

so, to sum up: i had a shit year and a half (it was in the coming, really), i ran away and went crazy crazy (and i have a scar on my face to prove it!), i am at crazy rehab and getting prepared to undo some of the weird things i did to prepare for my going crazy.

i feel like i should provide a coupon for a cupcake or an ice cream as a reward for making it to the end of this... whatever it is. instead i give you this laurel and hearty handshake.

questions? comments? concerns?

"actors/acting"

i know that i bash on the actors and actresses that i don't like mainly becuase they play the same person in every movie and that person is usually themselves. tom cruise is my favorite example. that dude plays an asshole in every movie he's in and something tells me he's probably an asshole in real life.

tonight, i saw "up in the air" with george clooney. george clooney is another one of those actors that plays the same guy in every movie - this film is no exception - so i was compelled to think of why it is that george has not incurred my actor wrath. i don't feel one way or another about him, i've seen some of his films, i still remember him fondly from "facts of life" and what not, but i don't have a strong yen for him in a positive or negative way.
in my comtemplation, i realized that i'm ok with george clooney playing the same dude in every movie - playing himself in every movie - because he's NOT an asshole. he's totally honest about who he is as a person and as an actor and in how he lives his life and he doesn't try to be anything else (seemingly). and something tells me that he's probably a pretty rad fella in real life. thus, he's ok in my book with playing the same role in every film he's in.

"up in the air" - very good movie. it just reiterates what we all already know anyway, but against an applicable to today's issues backdrop and in a nice way.

that's all i wanted to say about that.

ps - the shepherds pie at the alamo is GOOD. and they give you a lot of it.

seriously??

of all the assholes i work for, one of them, for christmas, brings me a gift that truly shows me that she don't know me at all:

a white leopard-print scarf

what? should i say that again to make sure you caught that?

a

WHITE

LEOPARD-PRINT

SCARF.

i don't think i need to expound any further on this.

finding the hilarity at work

because there's really nothing fun or funny about what i do.

so, i had to verify employment for a borrower who works for the texas beef council (because texas NEEDS a beef council) and their hold music is their radio commercials. as i'm waiting for someone to answer my call, i hear willie nelson pushing beef. or i hear kris kristofferson pushing beef. or, the funniest one of all, hearing george w. pushing beef, like it was your patriotic duty to eat beef.

ah, meat. it's what's for dinner.

question

should i be surprised that i made more cash selling my books and cds than i did selling every other saleable thing i own (bar my car)?

dear tall 'n' cute newish checker at the hipster mart:

i see you totally light up when i walk in for my nightly pomegranate sweet leaf green tea. you are REALLY good at flirting with me and have pretty twinkly blue eyes. i see you hastily ring through the 3 people in front of me in the checkout line so you can flirt with me some more and then continue to talk to me as i walk through the door to leave. it's all very sweet.

i wonder if your extreme height - seriously, how tall ARE you?? - makes you less... nonchalant? blase? dispassionate?... than the other hipsters at the hipster mart.

too bad you didn't start flirting with me before. we should make-out sometime.

sweet leaf and jose ole!

pixy

thinking

i don't think anyone will ever be able to give me an acceptable and satisfactory explanation as to why jon dee graham isn't one of the biggest things out there. that dude is SO FUCKING amazing at what he does.

people are idiots.

i found another "poop" product!!

chicken poop!!

i want to buy it all! AWESOME.

list musings

item completed: barbecue in lockhart, tx.
dealer of choice: black's barbecue

black's was a recommendation from a native born texan who got all kinds of excited that i wanted to go have barbecue in lockhart, the capital of barbecue in the state of barbecue - texas. and, let me just say, THEY WERE RIGHT.

lockhart is about 35 miles south and a teensy bit west of austin on state highways. lots of nothing exists between austin and lockhart. except billboards. about barbecue. just before you hit the lockhart "city" limit, there are about 14 billboards for black's barbecue ALONE which indicated to me that this is probably going to be some huge hall o' barbecue. i got into town, turned right at the yellow arrow and turned right again at the THREE other yellow arrows and on the corner stood this little storefront on the end of a row of town buildings.
you enter and walk inside a narrow corridor to another door which leads you to the food. before you walk in the 2nd door, there's a hand-written poster explaining how things work here at black's. because barbecue needs explaining. as you enter an even narrower aisle, you become surrounded by food. sides of green beans, potatoes 3 ways, macaroni salad, beans 2 ways, mac and cheese, rolls - you name the side, they've got it. you help yourself and then you're eventually pushed along to the meat. the delicious, loverly meat. you can get a meat sammich. you can get ribs, turkey, chicken, brisket... or brisket... or, how about some BRISKET? because what else do you go to barbecue for in texas? my mouth is watering as the super friendly meat cutter asks me what i've got a hankerin' for and i say "surprise me, but cut some of the fat off that brisket first." and they do. without giving the newbie a mean face. i pay, i get a drink and i sit down at the 1 long row of tables in the middle of the very small room. it's MAYBE 1000 sq. ft. total, including where you get in line with your food. i grab some sauce and i go to town.
this meat is the most tender, juicy, delicious meat i've ever put in my mouth. you read that right jim's cheesesteak! and that one kaw... uhm... yeah, better than all of you! and the sauce... the sauce is PERFECT. too many barbecue places make their sauces spicy for "kick" but i've only found that to be a deterrent from the taste of the whole meal. the spice overwhelms and you can't taste anything else - what's the point? not this sauce. this sauce is smoky with a hint of sweet. so. much. smoke. i want to eat that sauce on everything - meat, waffles, cereal, pickles, ANYTHING. and it compliments the meat so well. i can't even talk about it anymore.

so, to sum up: black's is the barbecue place to go in lockhart. small, extremely friendly staff, rad atmosphere and incredible barbecue. i smelled like smoky delicious barbecue for hours afterward. i wanted to eat me.

delicious and nutritious.

why?

on tuesday night, i didn't feel like cooking and had a hankering for cookies and hummus - not together. i went to the hipster mart, picked up some cookie dough and wheat thins and hummus and gorged myself.
man, did i feel like SHIT after that!
i went to sleep and woke up still feeling like crap and and the opposite of hungry. as a matter of fact, i would have been ok if i'd never eaten again... for that day at least. so,i decided to do a water-only fast. i did a SHIT TON of research on it yesterday and, apparently, gorging oneself on cookies and wheat thins and hummus and peanut m&ms and chai lattes the day before said fast is NOT the way to prepare for a water only fast. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME.
i was fine with this venture - even thinking of doing it for an extended period of time - there are people out there who do 40 day water fasts! WHAT?! i tossed out all the rest of the cookies, the hummus, the remaining few wheat thins and anything in my fridge that could go bad. i was inspired and energized by this new challange. that was... until about 6pm. then my gums and teeth started aching like no body's business and that make my head want to explode. so, i watched "cabaret". because what else do you do when you want nothing more than to chop your own head off and throw it in the lake? at the end of "cabaret" my head and teeth did not feel any better. so i read for about 90 minutes and then went to sleep.
i woke up feeling EVEN SHITTIER (nausea - yick) but not hungry (surprisingly) so i had some water and went to the HEB to get some superfoods juice and food since i tossed out all my food the day before. it took all i had not to throw up in that grocery store. i got home, drank some of the juicy juice, threw up a little and still felt like crap. then i went and did what made me feel better, but no one likes to hear about, so i'll just let your imagination take you where you'd like with that one. but now i feel AWESOME!
my water-only fast lasted only 1 day. but i realized a few things along the way. 1: i've gotten lazy with my eating and food preparation. 2: i'm going to do a 1 day fast per week - i think it's going to motivate me to eat better during the week so i don't feel so shitty on that day that i do fast. 3: i will eventually do a 30 or 40 day water only fast, just to see what's up, you know?
so, i went without food for 36 hours and that's that.

why did i do it? because i felt like shit one day because of eating and i didn't want to feel like shit anymore. it'll stay in my mind as something to try just so i know that i'm able to do it. :)

i'm such a geek

for the red-headed boys.

david wenham is seriously fucking adorable and i wan to do very very bad things with him. and he was just in my bed, via netflix online, as a seriously brainy and tricky fractal geometry genius. all the terminology... i just can't control myself. it's like having scientists talk all sciency to me.

RAWR.

observation

i use "weird" FAR too much in my posts.

i'm going to make a concerted effort to reduce the amount of "weird".

running list

for the month-long good-bye i've got to say to austin:

- a wednesday night at flips with mte and southpaw
- a sunday night at the saxon with what's left of "the resentments" - completed 11/22
- a wednesday night at the continental with jon dee and james mcmurtry
- a thursday night at lucky lounge with ian maclagan
- a wednesday night at the broken spoke with dale watson
- a movie or 40 at the alamo
- sangria margaritas at el chile
- deluxe chicken enchiladas with deluxe tomatillo sauce at chuy's
- rudy's bbq
- a trip to lockhart for bbq - completed 11/28
- lots of amy's ice cream
- homeslice - i might fit that in with the wednesday night at the continental
- a burger and a game at the tavern
- take a bath in sweet leaf pomegranate green tea
- a michael jackson cupcake
- an "art fair" weekend in gruene
- a show at gruene hall - maybe reckless kelly
- more...

**more - so much music going on in the next month and a half!:
- continental club:
- 11/19 - ian moore
- 12/1 - david garza
- 12/3 - chili cold blood
- 12/7 - beginning of "crybear" residency at the gallery (free) and crybear is david garza
- all of december - alejandro escovedo tuesday night residency
- other:
- 11/18 - kevin devine @ emos
- 11/24 - neko case @ antones
- 12/4 & 5 - the mother hips @ emos

WHAT?!

i'm sure i'll be adding to this list as time goes on...

i can't believe i almost forgot - a hey cupcake! cupcake. probably a michael jackson. how do you write a drool sound?

SO angry!

i don't even know why i'm still SO angry at this person. i've resolved that they're a lazy retard who insists on fucking my stuff up, but i'm STILL mad!

i'm usually ok at resolving and moving on, but not this one. i want to beat her senseless with a meat hammer and drag her bloody body around the office by her hair so that everyone knows what happens when you needlessly piss me off.

GAH!

dream

so i dreamt last night that i was a "kept woman" by some super rich dude that lived behind a hospital.
i remember swinging outside of a window of a very tall building, suspended from a helicopter and the dude's assistant was with me, then we had to go away from the building because we were in restricted air-space and then we were just hanging out in mid-air in the middle of nothing suspended by this helicopter. i was only mildly scared which is weird for me.
i remember going to super rich dude's office and finding him in a meeting, so i went down to the lunch room where everyone else was and they had weird tvs and games and stuff down there. when i was down there, it was like everyone knew but didn't know who i was. weird.
i lastly remember walking up and down the parking structure of the hospital in front of super rich dude's house and telling security that i could go up to a restricted part of the structure because that was the way i came in and that was the only way for me to get out and, while i was heading up there, judith light - the mom from "who's the boss" - was coming out of the hospital with a lot of paparazzi following her and she was coming up the restricted way that i was in. i looked in front of me and there was a whole buffet of food and booze that judith light's friends were chowing down on, waiting for her.

i dream funny things.

i want

the body of someone who is taller than me and who can squeeze me harder than i can squeeze them here. now. i need to hug some of this shit out. really badly.

observation

my appendix scar has a muffin top.

just thought that was worth sharing.

so...

i wrote a verse. to a song. last night. and there were other words floating around it, but there is most definitely a solidified song verse there. and music. but i don't know how to make it.

it's kind of weird. i'm not sure what it feels like. maybe like the first acupuncture needle? maybe i need to wait til it's all done? maybe it'll feel like writing a song and there's nothing else that feels like that?

weird.

maybe I didn't write it. maybe someone inhabiting my body did it.

perfection

"to love or be loved is no crime. the really criminal thing is to make a person believe that he or she is the only one you could ever love."

henry miller

the perfect combination

i think i've found the perfect (for me) lebowski combination:

- xanax - since i don't have pot, this is a perfectly acceptable substitute
- pizza rolls
- beer

blissful.

whoa

i never thought robert mitchum could get sexier, but he just did... australian accent and salacious language with deborah kerr... that's how.

rawr!

thinking

i think i need more gregory page in my life. i know i write him off because he's a "love-maker" not a "fucker" but, you know what, i think i could use a piece of that tender love-making right now. not necessarily on a sexual level, but on a whole life level.

thinking

going through the cds is harder than going through the books. every one i pick up to put away and in a box get an "awww... i remember when {insert event here}".
sometimes i look at the covers and say "i'm going to miss you" and then kiss them. or i hug them close to my chest. or i linger over the liner notes.

this is so weird. i want to cry like a baby. in a good way.

i like this:

danny elfman has a line in a song:

"if i could change the future, i would change the past instead"

i agree. i liked hearing that today.

i just did a VERY scary thing

and backed up my current itunes library to my ipod in disk mode and DELETED my itunes from my system hd. because it's too small to take ALL of my music. i had to delete what i had so i could make room for more.

i REALLY hope this works. i'm going to cry harder than i did that one time that that heartless ahole did that thing to me if it doesn't work. i see projectile vomit in my future.

grandmas

grandmas, mimis, granmamas, nanas, etc. have a really weird and very distinctive smell. i smelled it again today and it was super strong. strong enough for me to FINALLY pinpoint the mixtures of smells that make this uniquely grandma scent:

3 parts old person
4 parts menthol-y cream - bengay, aspercream, tiger balm - you choose
millions of parts powder. loose loose powder
1 part polident
1 part sink bath
2 parts coral-colored lipstick
3/4 parts musty old church smell

they should bottle this and sell it to the ladies at the nursing homes. maybe if enough of them doused themselves in it, it would disguise the odor of death, urine, decay and defeatism.

the original "tiger beat"

i'm selling all my books to this used book store. and i'm doing it one box at a time because, well, because i fuckin' feel like doing it one box at a time. and it's dangerous because they make you stay in the store while they look through and price what you're selling.
i fell into the trap the first day - i went traipsing about the store looking around and found a used thrush hermit cd!!! they're canadian and you can't get ANY of their shit here!! so i bought it. i made $44.50 on my book sale and spent $6.75 on the cd, netting $37.75. i told the guy that they were going to get it back anyway, i consider it a "rental" fee. this really isn't going to help my reason for doing this.
the second day, i came in with a plan: find a book - preferably something with several copies on the shelf and one that i haven't read before - and sit in one spot and read the book while they price. so i did.

the book: herodotus, "histories".

i'm head-over-heels for the writing style of this book. maybe it's the interpreter. maybe it's how it was originally written, i don't know. but it reads like time's first "tiger beat" magazine. "tiger beat" magazine with greek names.
"atys did this and this and this. and then corseus did that and that and that. and then they sent all this gold to this god's temple. but that was only according to the persians! wait 'til you hear how the greeks told it!" et cetera, et cetera, et cetera (in the king of siam voice).
there are 4 (maybe more) accounts of daughter snatching for wiving in the first 3 pages alone! this is choice reading!
do they really have whole college classes on this book?!!? it's AMAZING. i'm so in love with the ridiculousness of it. love love love.

fuck perez hilton and people magazine - read herodotus!!

i think it's officially a "problem" now.

my addiction to sweet leaf pomegranate green tea that is. case in point: i go to the corner market to get an icy cold bottle of said narcotic and the hipster checking me out said...
hipster checker: "you know, they just started a promotion today where if you buy 6 bottles of tea, you get that nifty reusable sweet leaf grocery/tote bag thingie. and since it's, like, the only thing you buy here, well, i thought i'd let you know."
me: "do you think you'll still have some bags on saturday? that's the day i'm planning on coming in and buying a whole butt-ton of sweet leaf."
hipster checker: "i don't know, they sent us 60 bags and it's 'while supplies last', so..."
me: "i'll live on a wing and a prayer that they're still here then. if they are, then i'm meant to have one."
hipster checker: "if we're out, i'll give you a jose ole burrito for your trouble."
me: "sweet!"

they've got me pegged, those damn hipsters.

i only get the jose ole burritos one out of every four or so times i get a tea.

i swear.

consolidating

is weird and oddly comforting. i wish i could so it with everything. including mental stuff. :)

...

jane russell is friggin' CUTE!! what a sass-pot. and she sings! and she has FABULOUS legs!

rawr.

forget leslie caron or esther williams - i want to be jane russell when i grow up.

2 things

1. the best line i've heard all week: "we could be apart for 10 years, and you put us in a room and someone's going to get pregnant."

2. i'm ECSTATIC about sleeping with the windows open for the first time in months!! woo hoo!!

dear house of blues

i would like to thank you for taking all the awesome, dirty, rawness of the live music experience and shitting on it by turning your venues into sterile amusement parks.
oh, yes - an amusement park - replete with stands where you can buy beer or "crawfish", stands where you can buy swag for the venue, and even people with cameras coming around to take your photo while the people who are trying to make a living by coming to your establishment to play are relegated to the back-most corner of the room to sell their merch - the thing that feeds those people that are on the road day in and day out to entertain us.

as well, house of blues, i would like to thank you for attracting the houston's finest douchebaggery contingent. dudes with tight, american apparel deep-vs, drunk bottle blondes with scary heels and precarious outfits making out with greasy, gross dudes - people who go to creed concerts and who go to church to network - fuck facebook! god's the ultimate networking tool! thank you for making it all so clean so everyone can be so dirty.

live music should come with a smell - a healthy sweat from jumping around and enjoying the music - a buzz in your head and body from the musical energy - a laughter and just a little bit of healthy fear of the unknown and the willingness to go for it - anything but the sterile air-conditioned grayness that you, house of blues, have made.

at least i got to bask in the awesome raw sex energy of that heartless drummer from afar for a little while. that beautiful man kinda made me forget my disgust for a bit.

question of the day

why doesn't god make people with spencer tracy-like faces anymore?

i could look at someone with a spencer tracy-like face everyday.

YAY!

the "rod stewart" song is on the radio!! thanks walkmen!

i really need a drink.

last observation

for now:

rachel zoe is, quite possibly, the most ridiculous person ever. in every way.

EVER.

some more little observations

1. "wanted" is a pretty fuckin' rad movie. james mcavoy has not disappointed since i fell in love with him as the cad-ish brother in "wimbeldon". yep, i just admitted to seeing that movie.
2. all these new things that can "help" you open your door if you lost your key or something scares the crap out of me. well, it really doesn't since i don't lock my door, but it should scare the crap out of the people that do lock their doors. a hacker can hack the lock to your front door and get in. or you can get a blank key and this "tool" and instantly have a key to a house. and they're advertising this on tv. i think people are high lately.
3. masturbation is over-rated when it's your only outlet. my arms hurt so bad. i haven't wanted to do anything all day except masturbate. i watched a robert mitchum movie this morning and got up out of my chair DRIPPING. seriously. this is killing me.
4. looking forward to houston on thursday. looking forward to houston MORE in a few weeks.
5. "still wearing your fingernails across my shoulders" is probably my favorite line in a song right now.

almost...

i almost called in a "mental health" day today to stay snuggled in bed listening to the rain and basking in the 68 degree weather. you read that right - SIXTY-EIGHT degrees. a full 40 degrees cooler than what the thermometer said 3 weeks ago!!

S.I.X.T.Y. E.I.G.H.T.

WOO!

small observations about today

- "the wedding date" is my favorite movie that i hate. man, dermot mulroney is sex on a stick. the hair on the chest. the voice. the yum.
- "i'd miss you even if i'd never met you" is the girliest line ever. and i love it.
- i shouldn't drink if i haven't eaten all week. even if it is gnarly head cab.
- "serendipity" is the last john cusack movie that i can tolerate. maybe because kate beckinsale is in it. and i still love her from "much ado about nothing". she was so much prettier with an additional 15 lbs. on her.
- sarah parish plays the best supporting role in a "romcom" EVER. she should be in every movie.

robert mitchum is coming next and i have no idea what is going to happen.

oh wait!! one more thing - "the wedding date"? dermot mulroney? that scar above the lip? RAWR!

PS - i'm drunk and about to watch "dirty dancing". look out.

it's official

i am not staying in austin. the decision has just been made. looking at houses here makes me sad and yearn for space. that's my tell-tale sign.

i want to be somewhere with SPACE. space on a vast level. somewhere where i can make a lot of noise and not worry about a neighbor hearing me or complaining.

maybe carlos is right. maybe i'm ready for the desert. or maybe i just want to go to the moon.

is it weird...

that i'm just not hungry anymore? i haven't been hungry since sunday morning. i just want to drink stuff.

i feel like i've been lobotomized.

the dream that i didn't post... until now

i can post this now that i'm off that place and because i know that no one in the dream reads this... thing.

the most overtly sexual dream that probably has nothing to do with sex i've had to date:

i was in my dream home (of course, an adorable craftsman bungalow, no more than 3 bedrooms) with a friend of mine that i haven't met yet. she was like a combination of a lot of girls i know, but no one i know at the same time. we're chilling on the couch chatting - it's my birthday or some kind of celebration for me or something - and she gets me up and says "ok, we're ready".
we go out to the backyard where this pornstar that i've never really found attractive is shirtless and doing something in another part of the yard, kind of flooding it i think, and he comes up to my friend, acknowledges me, takes her over to his project and she starts helping him with it. it feels like they have a little flingy thing. rob is sitting in the corner with something or someone unlikely draped over him preparing to videotape the whole thing. i go to where they're setting up this thing and there's a whole group of people that i feel like i know on a base level, but no one that i know personally. there's a chair-ish thing, kind of like a massage chair meets the "burning man" man on a massage chair scale, in the middle of this puddle and there are 2 people standing at the far end of the yard where the flooding is going. the pornstar and my friend are trying to get them to move, but they are just looking back and not listening. my friend has a ball of red yarn that she's letting into the water and it's turning the water red. she and the pornstar do something, i can't remember what, it feels ritual-y and then she's standing next to me again.
the pornstar starts talking to the rest of the group and instructs all the girls to put on something from this selection of dresses and "fancy fun" clothes he has that have just magically appeared. i see the one i want and i'm instantly in it, not physical getting out of clothes and back into them, and all the other ladies are the same way. i'm in some kind of corset bustier thing with sassy pants on and some girl, i don't know if it's my friend or not, is OBSESSED with my nipples and every few minutes would turn around, scratch my corset top down to get to them and happily start chewing and going to town on them and i liked it, but would just look down at her chuckling.
then the pornstar had an old, dying dog that we were going to ceremonially put to sleep or let die naturally and so they brought it up to this dais that was right next to me, and rob came closer and started filming closer, and they started this little pre-wake, last rights-ish kind of thing for the dog. all i could remember is the pornstar telling rob to get the dog's eyes in the video so they could try and figure out what kind it was because he never knew. and then they started playing old school michael jackson ballads for the dog. everyone starts to disperse and my friend and i are still in the yard but at a further vantage point and i told her that i thought she got the pornstar here to ravage me. she just smiled, laughed and said "he will if you want him to" and i just shook my head and we headed back into the house.
the inside of the house was different now, with a huge great room with no furniture, but the pretty, shiny wood floor was lined against the walls with guitars and stringed instruments of all kinds and there was a line for everyone to grab whatever one they could play because EVERYONE could play something. as i was walking through the house, i see the backs of tan sister radio standing there holding their guitars and they're facing and watching the huge front yard where there's a stage set up. my friend and i RUN outside to see what's up. as we collapse on the perfect patch of grass we see patrick onstage warming up the truckees and hoffee is in the house grabbing this huge sheet that has "truckees" or "rock" or something simple, one-worded and awesome on it in lights and he's running it out to the stage to put it up. the truckees are about to start but they can't for some reason that i can't remember but patrick was explaining it and the reason has to do with hoffee needing to fuck a random chick in the audience with everyone watching. and it's on a table so everyone could purposefully watch. the woman started out being a little plain with glasses and curly hair and feeling like a girl i knew ABOUT but didn't know personally and turned into my friend mid-fuck. it was like a slow morph. and it was just fuck. it was passionless, rote and mechanical like they were required to do it for a school assignment. no kissing, no savoring, no feeling, no fun, just the old in-out. the last thing i remember was her legs up on his chest, feet crossed at the ankles, and he was trying to pry them apart, but it wasn't happening and he got frustrated. and then i woke up.

whoa. is it weird that i think the "friend" that is leading me through the whole dream is a future me?

what ISN'T in there for interpretation??

edited to add: i finally figured out who the pornstar dude is - alex sanders. he's SO gross and not at all my type. but he's the one who was in my dream.

mini-purge

a thought popped into my head that might just get me on-track again with the eating well and exercising in a more consistent manner:

throw out all the clothes that are too big for you that have been sitting in your closet "just in case" you gained the weight back AND just to make it look like you have more clothes than you do.

so i did. i don't have a lot of clothes. i didn't to begin with and i REALLY don't now.

man...

do i feel shitty right now. i can almost hear the heart-broken virgo wailing and thrashing upon receipt of bad news.

flight and car canceled. plan f slowly in motion.

i.

am.

an asshole.

why

is it that josh ritter is the only thing i want to listen to right now? he feels so warm and snuggly and dusty in a good way... all his songs are about trains and motion and they all sound like trains.

stoopid chipmunk-lookin' awesome singer-songwriter dude.

this has never been truer than it is right now.

"i traded all the innocence i ever had for hesitation"

and it makes me more than a little sad.

dramz at the ian moore show!!

tonight ian moore played at the cactus. once every 6 months or so i get treated to an acoustic ian show here and it's ALWAYS awesome. tonight was no exception, except, HE DID NOT PLAY "CINNAMON". i'm going to have words with him about that one. he made up for it with a scorching version of "a change is gonna come" that has inspired me to make this sunday "sam cooke sunday". DAMN.

anyhoo, onto highlights (of the non-musical variety):

ian rambling through a story while mumbling about a song coming to hiim. kullen asking "is it in g?" (from the hand position) ian: "NO! no, g is my safety chord."

telling a story about pearl jam doing a commercial for target:
kullen: "but, you know, target is not walmart"
ian: "true, but you know what bill hicks said about commercials? 'when you do a commercial, you're sucking satan's cock!'"
mac (ian maclagan) from the audience: "how does it taste??"
kullen: "spicy!"

there were many more, but then, 2 songs before the end of the show, ian maclagan and his friend get chewed a new asshole by this angry dude in the audience who 1. obviously doesn't know who ian maclagan is, 2. has NEVER BEEN TO A SHOW BEFORE (i assume because he seemed angry that there wasn't ABSOLUTE SILENCE in the room while the show was going on) and, 3. who came in angry to begin with.
this dude bitches mac out and the slams back in his chair and just starts shoving the bird in his face while "watching the show". mac gave it right back to him while ian is rambling on on-stage about the next song. when the angry dude stormed out is when ian finally figured out something was going on (ah, blissful ignorance) and then the rows all around mac just started chatting up about it and life went on. the last 2 songs were GREAT because angry dude wasn't stewing in front of me anymore.

ah, ian moore. ALWAYS an experience of epic proportions.

wondering

how it is that i'm still not awake even though i make my body move through chilly water for an hour in the mornings.

how the hell else am i supposed to wake up?!