Personal Perestróĭka

Why what’s on my TV? PRO RODEO! Oh yeah, baby. And, lo, it is that season in the circuit, so it’s Puyallup. Yep, rodeo and a little satisfaction of homesickness. C’mon let’s see who is going on to Omaha, baby. YAY RODEO!

Oh, Faye, girl of my heart. (Though it probably makes more sense if you’ve read the last couple QCs.)

And it makes me think of K.

I just awoke from a nap that I didn’t mean to take. Now I feel groggy, weird and completely disconnected from the concept of time.

Sentence probably only ever uttered in my house: “Lenny Briscoe is kind of a pale, scrawny rock dude, in his own way.”

—

The Springwater again last night. Bands good. Yes. It’s the kind of place you really want to avoid the bathroom. But sometimes you can’t avoid it, so I go. Door’s locked, I wait. There’s giggling behind the door and I’m thinking to myself, man, this is not the kind of bathroom you want to take a friend in with you. It’s also v. v. small. And then the door opens, of the women’s room and two dudes come out. Kind of emo, faux-punk dudes with spiky hair and necklaces. You know the type. Yikes. IRB said it best, “The women’s room at the Springwater is apparently the new YMCA.” Heh.

—

I am full of procrastination today. It’s like a disease. With no cure, other than action and so I’ll spring into action. No, for real. I’m going right now. What? I am.

So I went to the eye doctor today. It was fine. He was nice, although he sort of treated me like I’d never had an eye exam before. And then, curiously, asked me if eye exams differed in Washington compared to Tennessee. Uh, no pretty much the same. However the whole thing cost me about 35% less, even including new contacts and everything than it did back in WA, where, I might add, I had insurance and here I do not, so YAY Tennessee!!!

Sadly, when he dilated my eyes he got TWO drops in my right eye which means that right now I look like this

Have you seen Metalocalypse??? This may in fact be the best thing ever on TV.

ETA: OMG, MySpace!

little sisters, they grow up so fast

It’s monsooning here. Like for real. There’s sheets of water coming down off the edge of the roof, a curtain of water and the yard is like under ten inches of water.

I really want good fish. In season Copper River Salmon, though obviously since that’s impossible I’d take good Chinook salmon right off the boat instead. Oh, Tennessee, why must you be land-locked? I’m settling for frozen Atlantic halibut. I feel cheated. Although that latin for it is Hippoglossus hippoglossus which is oddly satifying to say.

Lately I’m obsessing over my surgery scar from last year. It’s neither tiny, thin nor nearly invisible as promised. In fact it’s kind of keloid-y and lumpy. Any suggestions? Vitamin E? Sandpaper? Get over myself?

It was a fucking beautiful day out in Nashville today. I went for a walk in the park. Later I sat outside and did nothing. I washed the car. It’s bright, clear, beautful, cool, perfect and lovely. I could happily live in a world where every day was like this. Maybe I’ll dig through the closet and find all the clothes I realized I’d never be able to wear in a Tennessee summer. YAY cute fall clothes. And real shoes, not flip-flips, though the end of flip-slop season is sad. But one cannot be properly joyous for it’s return unless it goes away for a little while, right?

I recently imported all my bookmarks into del.icio.us. I don’t know how much I’ll use it, but come hook up with me if you’re using it too.

So far, despite being completely sleep deprived and WAY overly caffeinated today is turning out to be VERY GOOD day. It’s like I’m living inside good rock n’ roll. For real.

Ahoy, mateys, going to a show at the Springwater in Nashville and then having to put the clothes you wore there back on in the morning is possibly one of the grossest things ever. I saw a band called Scourage of the Sea and they did not play sea shanties or talk like pirates. Très décevant. And while I didn’t think they sucked, someone should have sent them the memo about saving the heroin until you’re really famous and can a) afford it and b) don’t have to worry about being a disjointed, slow-talkin’ slacker on stage. And, hey, wasn’t someone else just talking about having seen this band somewhere? daft maybe?

I had something else to say. The headache however is preventing me from remembering. Must be the kerosene they water the beer down with at the Springwater.

Twenty years ago… I was the same age my sister is now. Which means I was in 8th grade. *shudder*

Fifteen years ago… I was in San Francisco with Miss A, living off Zuzu’s trust fund and generally being useless.

Ten years ago… I was on my honeymoon. I believe in Bratislava, but we might have already made it to Prague.

Five years ago… I was living with my parents after breaking up with the Brat Prince for the ten billionth (and sadly not the last) time.

One year ago… I was in Amsterdam, loitering in cafes, going to museums, shopping and getting ready to go to Barcelona.

Yesterday… Was sort of a waste of a day.

Tomorrow… Will hopefully be great.

Maybe daft hit the nail on the head when she wondered if my homesickness wasn’t caused by the weather.

It’s raining today. I went out and danced in it a little this morning, in shorts and a tank top, to remind myself that this strange warm rain isn’t my rain from home at all. Now I’m listening to music best suited to sunny Sunday mornings and trying to write fiction. Obviously I’m failing at the fiction part, or I wouldn’t be over here procrastinating, eh?

I had terrible insomnia last night combined with even worse dreams than the night before. Not only was I awake every hour or two, in between I had recurring dreams where I had a mouth full of broken glass. GAH! I’m actually twitchy just writing it. Horrible. So horrible.

Happy things. Happy things. Happy things. Happy things.

I wish miss Rhi wasn’t on vacation with her baby girl. I’d drive right over to E. Tennessee right now to spend the day with that sweet baby. That would surely fix me. Or if someone had a very tiny kitten I could play with. Alas I think I’ll have to cheer myself up. Okay then, will pick the right music and maybe make jewelry instead of working on the depressing story. And maybe stand in the rain a little more.

It’s amazing what sort of useless things you can get done when you don’t want to be doing anything you should be doing.

Case and point: I have compiled all the original, unedited Astonishingly Dim co-worker stories over here. I needed them in a place I could link to them when folks asked, instead of spread out in the other journal and friends-locked to protect the innocent. So there they are, now publically available, since it’s not like I’ll lose my job over gossiping about it now. Go on and read them again, I did and even though I was there, I don’t believe half of it.

—

I had this other thing I was going to write up about how homesick I am today. But just thinking about it is making me cry so I’ll spare you. Plus it’s probably just hormonal or something anyway, right?

I’m sort of a wreck this morning. I had some of the worst dreams ever last night, just one after the other. I kept waking up and trying to shake it off, but alas. Featured were large spiders and scorpions landing on the back of my neck and fighting while I calmly asked someone to please please please help me get them off before they killed me. Later I dreamt of being pursued by FBI agents for something I didn’t do and hiding in dark alleys crying because I didn’t have an alibi to protect myself. I also had a really long involved dream about my old boss, that I don’t remember very well, but he was trying to save me from something, but in the end couldn’t help me. Dear universe, you owe me dreams about sexing up rodeo cowboys. Or at least a sweet dream or two about Indie Rock Boy, okay?

So I got up, choked down some coffee and went over to play with tubenerd and oiran’s dog, Mr. Jones (Casey Jones, but he prefers formality when he’s addressed). That made me feel a little better. Man, I wish I could get that excited over a ball. Maybe later I will just go sit on the couch with Mr. Jones for a while. It will probably do us both some good.

Here’s some songs to cheer us all up (as always, click to download):

The Wrens – Propane I don’t know what it is about this song. I’ve been listening to it pretty much daily for about 2 or 3 years now. The lyrics barely make sense. The song is short. And yet I just can not get enough of it. It feels meaningful, I’m just not sure where the meaning I’m attributing is coming from. And I’m sure you all have, since I’ve posted it ten million time before, but just in case, here it is again.

The Carter Administration – Kentucky is Ohio’s Alabama I had this CD in my car yesterday while I was out doing stuff and I must have listened to this song six times. Not only is the title the funniest fucking thing ever, I just really, really, dig the song.

Drag the River – Me & Joe Drove Out to California This song makes me feel like I’m in a convertible, top down, in early fall, but it’s Indian Summer, all my friends are there, singing along with the radio and everyone just feels full of love for the world as the countryside whips by.

The New Tragedies – Overboard I’ve fallen asleep to this song at least three nights this week. It’s become a lullabye for me or something. I like it so much I’ve half-assedly considered getting a tattoo of “the stars are watching me” to balance out the “love is a dangerous angel” tattoo.

Cory Branan – Ten Different People Inside of Me Oh, Cory. Why isn’t the world full of people as clever as you?

The V-Roys – No Regrets This is especially for maxroswell, in case he needs a little boost in telling the world to fuck off today. Good luck, baby, I suspect you’ll kill no matter what decide to do.

Little Sis: you talked to mom for like an hour and I never got to finish telling you the important teenage girl boycrush thing, gosh!

Me: Well, you can call me back.

LS: meh. the phone scares me it gives me a heart attack everytime it rings. it’s worse then when Hannah hides behind a corner and then goes ‘boo.’ and I fall down and get a bump on my head :’[

Me: If you call me you can hold it away from your head and not be scared if the ringing, freak.

LS: I’m telling mom you’re calling me names. which will not help any because she called me a retard yesterday

Me: You know mom doesn’t like tattletales. Plus what’s she going to do? Ground me?

LS: Take away your allowance

Things not good to wake up too:

-Email from your sister saying she needs to talk to you about “bad things going down” at her school. I suspect this is more disturbing when your sister in the 8th grade. I hope it’s social issues and not drugs or sex, though I suppose I’m prepared for any conversation. Besides there’s no way she could get into as much trouble as I did at that age, right?

-The cops pull someone over in front of your house at 2 am, search the car and take the driver away. When you wake up the car shouldn’t still be half in the road in front of your house partially blocking your driveway and mailbox, right? Arg.

Good things to wake up to:

-Big mystery packages delivered by FedEx.

-Milk for your coffee! YAY!

-Sunshine.

—

Last night there was distinct chill in the air. Autumnal chill! Wheee! I sat outside before sunset and took careful note of the way the quality of light has changed at that time of day and felt the difference in the air and the smell of fall. Joy joy joy! Today I will dig out my light jacket and try and locate all my pairs of boots.

Some times living with another girl is like living alone, in the best way possible. Actual conversations in my house tonight:

Me: damn it, apparently my body has decided that your body overrides hormonal cycles.
K; yeah?
me: yeah, now I’m bleeding too

and later,as K is going to the store:

K: do you need anything else?
me: no, I should be good.
K: Nothing salty or sweet?
me: Well, yeah
K: Like nutter butters or ice cream?
me: um
K: you want ice cream (it wasn’t a question)
me: yes
K: Why do I even ask?
me: I don’t know

later, after she’s brought me ice cream and ice cream bars because she knows what kind of crap I eat AND she made me spaghetti

me: you take such good care of me
K: *just loves me, it’s obvious with her very existence*

To sum up, 4 Aleve fix cramps much better than 1 (thanks, K!), I had spaghetti and now there’s ice cream to be eaten and a crap-ass Brian Bosworth movie on TV. Though he doesn’t have The Hair in it, but that’s okay.

Life, she is pretty good to me. Except the part with girl pain and all that makes me want to attempt performing an self hysterectomy. I understand why whole religions decided this was curse.

I just read this book, Hairstyles of the Damned. My little sister gave it to me because she loved it and, man, it was weird. It’s about this sort of metal-head boy, a high school junior in 1990, who has a shit year and eventually sort of accidentally becomes a punk kid. What’s weird? Well my sister LOVED this book and you know, I was a junior in 1990 and all the bands and mix tapes and situations and bullshit in this book might as well be myself and everyone I knew then.

It was interesting to read. I mean the author is my age and clearly must have drawn on his won experieces to paint such a clear picture of exactly how it was then. And it didn’t make me melacholy, or miss those days or anything. I feel so incredibly removed from it now. I wonder how it was for my sister to read it, like when I read things about teenagers in the 70s or something? You can kind of connect but does it feel just like a story to her, when it feels completely real to me?

This is how my night went:

Okay, not really, as I didn’t actually play any ping pong because I am not awesome at it. But Indie Rock Boy and his friends did. I assume not just for my amusement, though it sort of worked out that way. Then we went to a show at a bar that I’m not entirely convinced didn’t give me the black plague just by being there. Seriously, old skool Oly people, imagine the 4th Ave Tav combined with pre-gentrification Brotherhood, but with concrete floors and a few skeezier people. Yeah, like that. Somebody actually got a PBR which the whole can seemed to be covered in kerosene or propane or something. Just touching it was enough to make your hands smell like gas. It was fucking great, though it made me a little homesick.

I woke up to the sound of rain this morning. And you know, how it sucks to start of your day going out into the rain? But for some reason waking up to the sound of it is one of the greatest things ever. It is a lovely lovely lovely fall rainy kind of day. Well lovely if you aren’t out walking or driving in it, which I am currently not. Actually all I’m currently doing is having an internal war with myself as to whether I should be productive and useful today, or spend the entire day reading a Richard K Morgan book and living outside my own head a little bit.