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.