This blog is welcome to anyone and everyone, regardless of race, class, gender, sexual orientation, or political affiliation. Unless you don't like writing short stories or smelling bear. Or if you voted for the other guy. Also, I don't really like it when you leave up the toilet seat, so could you stop doing that? Muchas, muchas gracias.

Thursday, March 30, 2006


Because my room is such a pigsty, Matty sent me this. It's too bad about the sudden appearance of the can, which sort of interrupts the denouement. And what was it they were advertising? I've seen this thing three times and I still can't remember. . . a yellow plastic dildo? If the commercial continued for four more minutes, I would've run out to purchase one.

ANYWAY, today I decided I want to be one of those women who wears pumps, and then, fortuitously (okay, not exactly fortuitously), I wandered into a Nordstrom's, and now I'm gonna wear the mothers out! I mean, damn! They'll go perfectly with jeans, and I think I'll look pretty hot in them when I'm filling up at the gas station.

Speaking of which, why the hell can't I smoke at the gas station?


P.S. I'm quitting after this last pack. I mean it & cross my heart. Encourage me, yeah?

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Beer, Sewing, The Aislers Set, and Eternal Happiness

First, let me apologize for my utter, utter lameness in re: commenting. I've been having too much fun, I guess, and fun kind of gets in the way of things. Which isn't to say I don't love and value every one of you, my friends. It's just to say, I wound up in the greatest city on earth -- that is, San Francisco -- and I'm single, and the world is my oyster, and wow!

My dear soundmate, bloodgood, asked me to say more about music, but I don't want to scare off those of you whose tastes differ from mine because I wouldn't bore you with a barrage of information about music you either don't like or haven't heard. So I'm breaking it up, here, to blab on and on about me; perhaps this will bore my scooter friend, but the music will be back.

Now, tonight I once again worked at my weensy little bookstore which, unfortunately, has no heat beyond an extremely inefficient space heater. But aside from sitting next to a nice, hot fire, there's nothing like being amidst tons of old books and listening to stirring music to make me feel like a zillion. And okay, I listened to this amazing band called The Aislers Set while I sort of read Alice Munro's new collection, Runaway. Sort of read because I was working, so I snatched a few sentences here and there, in between frantic bouts of vaccuuming and talking about, well, stories and music and movies.* Outside it was raining and the streets were shiny and despite that, there were lots of people out walking their dogs with their hoods pulled up.

I just love to look out the window and smile at everyone until my smile snags someone and prompts them to come in. Home is for privacy, but work -- or at least my work -- is social. Maybe I'm full of myself, here, but I love to both spread and receive the word of fiction. This makes me feel as though I'm doing some kind of good in the world.

And lo, a guy came in to pick up his special order, a book about how to sew. I asked if he had a sewing machine. Turns out he has two, one of which he promised to give me! I LOVE to sew my own clothes. You'll eventually hear back on this, as soon I will be polluting the streets with homemade color.

But more than color and wrapping myself in it, I adore beer.So after work I went to the local bar, this place where I always end up talking to interesting people from all over the world. And this particular bar has a great jukebox -- twice tonight, I was treated to the live version of Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne", plus some great Violent Femmes songs, plus "Lovecats" by The Cure. I'd completely forgotten what a talented band The Cure was, and in that particular song, the bass line! The brushy drums!

Anyway, I had a Bass next to the fireplace, I sat next to my favorite window that looks out on a red staircase, and I wished my life could remain as it is now, forever and ever.

1Matt: we have to see Water in April -- it's an Indian movie, guaranteed to make me, at least, cry -- I know, you're more in line with the Alice Cooper take and you never cry.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

A Huge Shout to my Homies

My blog has been M.I.A. (not to be confused with the singer, galang galang,) and now I'm back, thanks to spinning girl, who suggested I republish my blog (duh!).

So Yay!

Back to what's important: Matty and I made CDs for each other. The CDs contain the songs we love, that mean something to us, that (we hope) speak not of how we want others to perceive us, but who we are. A tall order, considering a CD only holds eighty minutes worth of music.

Here's the first five on my CD:

1. "Time Has Told Me" by Nick Drake (That's Richard Thompson on the twangy guitar.)

Nick Drake's voice is so soothing, so sad, and his lyrics say all kinds of of private things that the tunes somehow render very public: Leave the ways of making you be what you really don't want to be/Leave the ways of making you love what you really don't want to love. Yes, I would like to do that. These days I feel like I'm being torn apart. If you decide to buy a Nick Drake album, Five Leaves Left.

2. "Wildwood Flower" by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (sung by Ma Maybelle Carter).

This is from the 1972 release of Will The Circle Be Unbroken, and again, the whole album is awesome! I guess I chose this one for the autoharp and for the lyrics -- this is humble and incomprehensible mountain springtime poetry -- pure hillbilly folk, imbued with I guess parable. My parents played Will The Circle Be Unbroken over and over again when we lived in a place called Ritzville, Washington. This was a desolate and tiny town full of rattlesnakes and wheat fields and bachelor's buttons. Our house, a rickety two-story shambles, would shake and shudder every time the train passed behind it. I remember jumping rope barefoot in the hot hot streets. I went an entire summer without once wearing shoes, and to toughen my feet I'd run across the sharp gravel behind the church. There I befriended an old Baptist preacher named Brother Dugger -- all the kids loved him because he'd take out his false teeth for us and he'd let us play in his abandoned car. The parents feared something I did not understand at the time -- he was a strange old bachelor who dearly loved children -- but they were dead wrong.

3. "Aa-Shuu dekei-oo" by Huun-Huur-Tu

Huun-Huur-Tu may be an aquired taste -- I've played them for friends and received mixed responses. This band is from Tuva, Mongolia, which you might know by now I'd LOVE to visit. The majority of Huun-Huur-Tu's songs have this horse-rythm; their hooves, their breath, the muscle and soul that makes horse. Which is completely logical -- the Mongolians living in the steppes practically grow up on horseback. But let's not forget their voices! The singers can sustain two notes at once -- the effect is otherworldly, yet it's a sound that comes straight from nature. I was lucky enough to see Huun-Huur-Tu at a teeny little venue in the Santa Cruz Mountains called Henflings. There's no way to describe the power, the volume (no mikes needed) -- the walls could have plausibly caved in and I wouldn't have noticed. ANYWAY, when I was in the Peace Corps, one of my fellow volunteers had served in Mongolia, and we spent many evenings talking about her experience there (don't ever adopt a pet in a developing country). I would love to live in a yurt!

4. "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart

I remember this one playing a lot on my mom's Volkswagen radio, back in the day. Her name was Maggie, and whenever the song came on, she'd turn it up. My favorite line: All you did was wreck my bed, and in the morning kick me in the head. Yep. Lucky for mom, dad was a cop; otherwise she would have gotten a few more tickets. She drove like a fiend, and when he'd chase her with the siren blaring, she'd flip him off.

5. "Raining in Darling" by Bonnie "Prince" Billie

This song is short (one minute, fifty-two seconds) and very asymmetrical -- Will Oldham (a.k.a. Bonnie etc.) begins the piece with something that's part love song and part entreaty. All this builds to the ending where Oldham's voice soars to a melancholy crescendo, brimming with hope and -- really -- illusion. "Raining in Darling" is included in I See A Darkness, which isn't my favorite Will Oldham, but if you're interested in giving him a try, it's a great introduction. I guess many of his fans say this is his best.

Okay, that's just the first five songs. I stop now. Maybe more later?

Monday, March 06, 2006

That's The Way

That's the way the stomach rumbles
That's the way the bee bumbles
That's the way the needle pricks
That's the way the glue sticks
That's the way the potato mashes
That's the way the pan flashes
That's the way the market crashes
That's the way the whip lashes
That's the way the teeth gnashes
That's the way the gravy stains
That's the way the moon wanes

-- William Burroughs

I really, really like the rhyme scheme on this one -- the deviation from the aa, bb thing he originally set up in the first four lines makes tons of sense, if you think about it. And that Mr. Burroughs decided to rhyme five lines instead of three (or, horrors, four) in order to get the message across, well. . . This is just plain rad!