the 30 course meal

during a break in the food:

what?

hey, why don't you come and see 'casiotone for the painfully alone' with me in january?

tell you what, i'll buy a couple tickets and then you'll be socially obligated.

you wouldn't have me go painfully alone, would you?

What it's all about.

THE EMOTIONAL

HOKEY POKEY.

BY KATE HAHN

- - - -

You put your heart in. You put your heart out. You put your heart in and Ashley in accounting, beautiful Ashley, shakes it all about. And then she asks, "Why do you put your heart out so much? Why can't you just leave it in? It would help our relationship." And you say, "Because you shake it, Ashley." You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around—slowly, slowly, so she can't see your tears. That's what it's all about.

You put your deepest self in. You put your deepest self out. You put your deepest self in and you shake all about from the vulnerability and you start sweating and regret what you've done. You do the hokey pokey—is anyone watching?—and you turn yourself around so you can reject people before they reject you. That's what it's all about.

You put your naked anger in. You lash out. You put your naked anger in and you shake it hard—reliving your father's rejection and your boss's criticisms until you don't know your own name, or where you were born, or if you are a person or a jaguar named Maurice, or why it didn't hurt to jump through the plate glass window into the liquor store. You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around until the police come. That's what it's all about.

You put your pure joy in. You put your pure joy out. You put your pure joy in and the world shakes it all about like a great white shark does a seal before swallowing it whole. You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around and don't recognize the person you see in the mirror anymore. That's what it's all about.

You put your disappointment in. You put your disappointment out. You put your disappointment in and you leave it there, intending never to look at it again. You do the hokey pokey and then think about what you are doing and don't bother to turn yourself around. What's the point? As if you can really leave that disappointment behind, as if it won't stare you in the face for the rest of your life and hasn't changed you forever. That's what it's all about.

You put your resentment in. You take your resentment out on the person standing next to you. You put your resentment in and with your hands free you shake the person standing next to you all about. You make them do the hokey pokey, moving their arms like you are a puppet master, saying, "I am the puppet master!" You turn yourself around and it feels really, really good—better than you ever imagined. That's what it's all about.

You put your dreams of greatness in. You put your dreams of greatness out. You put your dreams of greatness in and everyone starts shaking you down saying, "Can I get a loan since you're going to be so rich?" You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, knowing one day you will do this all alone, because that is what happens when you are super successful from doing something no one else understood early on. That's what it's all about.

You put your hope in. You put your hope out. You put your hope in, and it starts shaking and shivering on the cold tile floor of the rec center. You are about to pick it up and put it away deep, deep in your soul where no one can hurt it. Then you see that everyone else has put their hope in too. You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around, pretty sure no one will take your hope while your back is turned since they all have their own. That's what it's all about

(source: www.mcsweeney's.net)

ps- thank god you're gone so i can sit alone and blog again, hey? and here's who you should have been for halloween:

LOTR.

had a discussion about gaming in the studio today. i'm not a fan (no shit). 

In celebration of that fact, here's my personal quote of the day:

"But i don't want to be IN 'Lord of the Rings'. I just want to watch it. Preferably on Opiates."

feeling feelings

you're here!

and this image accurately represents how that makes me feel:

show for me.

nothing new:

but, it's what i've got for you:

because you're about to be on a real big boat, before.

"Well, I hope Neil Young will remember,

A Southern man don't need him 'round anyhow"

anticipation. of you. do.

waiting...

doing everyday things.

'Coincidence is usually perceived as flim-flam, a fluke, a device used in bad novels to manipulate the plot. Synchronicity, on the other hand, is regarded as evidence of the mystical union of metaphysical forces, a glimpse of the grand purposeful plan of the universe. Synchronicity carries in it a sense that all things happen for a reason, whereas coincidence produces a sneaking suspicion that they don't, that everything is merely a matter of chance.'

- diane schoemperlen

when the money is gone, i will show you love.

http://www.myspace.com/chet

country crooner disguised as indie folk hipster.

and what i listen to walking everywhere.

'There would be, she imagined, a different kind of music for each category of sin. Country-and-western laments for crimes of the heart, unrequited love for thy neighbour's wife, horse, or four by four. The sultry smokey piano blues for crimes of passion, marital infidelity and all other consummated lusts. Rabid rock-and-roll for rebelliousness, vandalism, drug use, and petty theft. Cool watery jazz for crimes of detachment, lack of compassion, errors of omission. Classical music for lofty intellectual crimes, failures of integrity, betrayal of ideology, plagiarism, and pettiness. Opera would be reserved for the most heinous crimes: terrorism, international drug trafficking, child abduction and abuse, rape, and murder.'

-diane schoemperlen, from 'in the language of love'.

Lotteria

say, why don't you come for a visit so i can show you the same old people doing new embarrassing things to amuse ourselves?

we've discovered the Lotteria. 

bring your bikes in,

bring your own boozes in,

lock yourself in a small room with a karaoke machine,

an old fan,

and 6-12 of your nearest and dearest.

good things still happen here.

Bastard.

yes, you are one.

a LUCKY one.

because you get 2 posts in 24 hrs!

never say i don't love you.

final fantasy singing joanna newsom. which brings me to:

Picasso's blue period. which brings me to:

my favorite book. and doesn't it all just look the same?

and that's my brain for this evening.

what about you?

Rifflandia, you have hurt me

but only my head, not my heart.

a rambling weekend of music, which gets to be addictive after a while, so that it seems strange to not have it playing all the time.

FGI actually advertised with rifflandia, just a small package, but it's made me really happy to support a local event that so many people turned out for.

-luminara failed to happen because of a freak lightning and rain storm this year- right at sundown. weirdest thing-

so i finally got my crowd fix- even if it was mostly college kids. luckily i'm old now and can convince myself and others of one of two things, situation depending: 

1. "I'm too old for this shit!"

2."I was born in this town!".

-sometimes throw a "for fucks sakes" on that last one for extra emphasis.

best venue by far was M2. and since i'm both clearly too old for this shit and was born in this town (and because the security guy could tell i was a runner), i managed to get myself into the vip area. which was (clearly) the place to be. local 'industry' people (gag...wait, i am one?), free grey goose, leather couches, and jeffy mitchell! he went with a bigger advert so he got a vip wirstband. well played, except that none of his friends did, because they either don't have jobs or he's their boss. 

and that's the weekend update. which has been long coming because i'm also too old for this shit.

oh, what, you've nodded off?

here, look at our new skirt. it's a vintage wool blend jersey, lined with a slip, lace trim and leather triangle at the back slit. you need one. so come n' get it.

and a shot from outside the store... fall, looking at swans.

and some new cushion covers being made...

and a visit from this guy who, shockingly, went straight for the headbands...

and with that sweet image of my friend Conan the boutique barbarian, i bid you zzzzz...

and xo too.

pardon, my apologies.

i'm afraid i just wrote an intense and mysterious post. 

it was all like this:

and like this:

when it should have been like this:

with just a hint of this:

for good measure.

because 'where we're from the birds sing a song and there's always music in the air'.

The Spoils

the newest in new

prints by nick robins for FGI

if i died and people were listing my assets they would now include not 1, but 2 dryers.

eating rice= too soon. discovered the hard way @ indian buffet. not pretty.

the truth is, it's friday night and victoria has left me zzzzzzz. and i didn't really bother trying. the social relationship i have with this town is such a damn shame. new things happen and everyone lights up. but boredom sets in quickly, events don't change and eventually everyone stares at each other again. why is victoria like this? is it a numbers game? that given enough time we will know one another, all too well?

well, my work here is clearly done.

the romance languages

spanish, french, italian, portuguese, catalan, romanian.

and karen o looks like both of us.

How Blackbirds Are Taken, and How Blackbirds Fly

two games for you,

to pass the day away.

1. mummify it.

2. which wolf is which?

(prizes available reflect the lameness of the games. especially #2. sorry.)

deep throat

not for a while i won't.

and that's Dr. Angie's diagnosis for today.

old and english

in honor of september 14 may i present...

my favorite quotes from noah macnayr:

"no, it's cool. it's old english"

"their hash browns are like a cat pissed on deep fried wig"

"i'm gonna strangle you until we both pass out, you little slut"*

*(never actually happened. can you even imagine?)

OLD ROSES

they're beautiful.

they're sharp.

and i'm projecting.

welcome to my new 'educate myself into being a snob' heritage rose project. bought some cheap hybrid teas for the front of the house ('savoy hotel' and 'big purple', he's big). planning a private collection for the backyard of old china, damask and bourbons. to remind me of hillhouse. 

we had an old man neighbour when i was growing up who claimed that the secret to growing great roses was planting a fish head under each bush.

OLD ENGLISH

listening to 'Let It Be'. all the time.

to show you.

see i have something to show you. because i think of you, and then sometimes i think of it. and then i always think about how there's a current of truth and beauty in life. in general.

and i know it seems obvious that i would make a connection between you and a teepee, but it actually has more to do with faith and simplicity.

it's a stick and poke that cam did on nick's forearm.

(and you can see more if you go to flickr and look up cameron kidd)

Fair Dinkum

chris actually said this the other day. it's auzzie slang, i think... but seriously, who besides them, and my mom, and chris actually say 'fair dinkum'?

luckily (?) andy was there, so now it can be a thing.

along with:

'you've got me over a barrel'

'that dog'll hunt'

and the old stand by,

'you are one'.

which is true.

we've got chris and christina's wedding this weekend. found what might end up being the perfect little outfit. another see through summer dress for me- a sweet laura ashley number, so i don't look like a sloot? like 'oh, i didn't notice this prairie girl dress was so sheer you can see my belly button, shame on you for looking'. sexual politicking is fun for me! with sling backs and a nice lady belt, cover up those face bruises and hang on chris' arm. and if shit goes sideways i will take off the shoes, uncover the bruises and sit in the dirt. that's a versatile outfit.

i need some female friends.

4:30 am. nothing new.

although it seems unreasonable to expect sleep when there is such a feast to behold.

did i mention i might be starving to death?

soup, in all it's forms. every vegetable you can mash. ice cream. a rainbow of smoothies. 

now can i be BORED?

here's what i would like to eat:

1. something from a drive thru. not wendy's. don't like wendy.

2. something very spicy. with rice. tiny rice.

3. muesli. 

4. popcorn, lots.

5. a giant salad. rebar salad. feta. both dressings. this should actually be #1...

... but i'm lazy, because i'm hungry, so we're skipping re-writes.

lazy blog.

so goodnight.

you have things to say

and so do i. but first i have to eat some mashed foods, so enjoy a tour of my bruises.