Rediscovering Music

In my Cleveland excursion I got to go into the infamous tool shed into which I had stuffed all of my hopes and dreams (read: art supplies and CDs). While it was upsetting to have my beautiful charcoal set covered in mouse shit and to watch as huge centipedes (my kryptonite) crawled all over my stereo, it was also so much fun to revisit with my old things. For the first time in my life I was a little bit embarrassed about the sketchbooks and journals that I came across. All I could think was "there are people who knew me when I did this stuff and are still friends with me?"

Now that I have half of that stuff back in SF with me I'm able to start re-digesting my old tasty morsels of culture. Namely- my music! How sweet it is to have it again. As we speak I'm listing to Blazing Arrow for the first time in a year. It is such a good fucking album. I know that this is old news- but sometimes it's important to recognize the oldies. The songs fit so perfectly together and his lyrics are so damn good and the guest artists are exactly right for each song.

What's also funny is how I can track my musical taste by format. When I first started listening to music I bought a lot of CDs (I think Jagged Little Pill was my first purchase). Soon the Napster started getting big and I did a little bit of downloading but I don't think I ever really got comfortable with it. So I just turned a lot of CDs into MP3s and then burned a lot of CDs. So now more than half of my musical collection selection is composed of burned CDs. Now, however, I'm a big fan of buying music again.

Furthermore, I've noticed that while I love music that I genuinely like, the majority of the music I like I like for nostalgia. I feel like every time I listen to a new band it's been introduced to me by someone. Therefore when I listen to their music, I think about that person. So I might like really shit music but I associate it with people who I care about and so I will listen to it with pleasure Example

Back to work.

Cleveland

Look to the right- that's me in the big jacket and chelsea cut. ahhhhh high school.

Anyway. I know I'm always waxing poetic when it comes to Cleveland but it really must be said that I love this city. (and don't want to live here) Despite the fact that just about everyone in my immediate family has shown up here (often a source of unending griping and general unhappiness), I think we're all having a really nice time.

It's not that my family doesn't like each other. We love each other. And think that every person related to us is the most wonderful, intelligent, beautiful individual on the face of the planet. I just don't think we've quite learned how to understand one another. Which is a little frightening because if you can't understand the people that are essentially responsible for your personality, who can you understand? (or perhaps a better way of phrasing it: If the people responsible for forging your personality can't understand you, who will?) What it all boils down to is: Family is stressful. Or at least mine is. And I'm very relieved that so far, my family has not been causing me much stress.

And though it is very hot in Cleveland, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. I'm dripping with sweat but also relishing that I only need a sheet at night, and can wear a tank top without needing to bring along a sweater. Or a scarf. Or gloves. Or my jacket.

I'm somehow totally zen about work as well. Despite the fact that I just discovered our fall tour is dangerously dangling from the edge of "underfunded" and also recently learned that all the late-night work I did before I left has to be re-done because of several last minute changes, I'm cool as a cucumber and looking forward to forgetting everything I learned today and going to sleep. With only a sheet.

And of course I got a milkshake here! Going to Tommy's is always such a trip. There's usually someone there that I know but for the most part it's new blood. The same slightly artsy high school girls behind the counter making shakes, the young skater (or preppy) boys clearing the tables, Tommy's daughter's serving, and the cooks who are either Tommy's daughters' husbands, or the same great guys who have been cooking there forever and always give me the best hugs when I walk in. What a strange thing to walk into a space that used to be part of your world. It's still there, and things are still happening, but you're not a part of it anymore. In a sense I guess Cleveland in general is like that- or any community from which you leave and to which you return.

Well- my eyes are getting heavy and so is the heat. To market to market to buy a fat pig- home again home again jiggity jig!

OPENING WEEKEND!

COME SEE THE MIME TROUPE IN DOLORES PARK THIS WEEKEND! IT'S FREE!


Click here for a full schedule

Henry

Check it Out

maybe if we just called it something other than....

...a "rape fantasy."

Ever since reading this, i've been thinking something fierce about the whole rape fantasy thing and it's not sitting well with me. that "story" in particular strikes me funny for a number of reasons. The first being that i can't really stand anyone talking about sex the way that she does, but there's this strange thing that some people associate with feminism that seems to allow for that way of talking. I think it stems from the whole "men can talk that way, so can we" thing, but that just pisses me off. It's gross when men do it, it's gross when women do it...to me anyway. Secondly, she's awful to the prostitute she hires. If a man wrote as dismissively about a female prostitute as she does about her male one, he would be called a chauvinist. What you can get from her attitude is: "It doesn't matter how I treat him, I'm paying him." And that fucking sucks for any human being. Do your thing, but come on.

Finally, and mainly, the reason why this story pisses me off is the whole rape thing. She hires a man to rape her. SHE HIRES A MAN TO RAPE HER. THAT'S NOT RAPE. That's called domination, maybe violence, maybe power play- whatever- but it's not rape. She was and had to be in control of the entire thing- they even had a safe word.

That got me thinking about this allusive "rape fantasy" and I've concluded that it doesn't exist. OK, maybe there are some people for whom that exists in the way I'm thinking about it, but on the whole the terms are mutually exclusive. If you're fantasizing about something, you're probably enjoying it to some extent or at least wanting it, and that is exactly what rape is not. Rape is not wet or exciting, it's terrifying and awful and dry and painful and all of those other things that we all know rape is. What a "rape fantasy" really is, is folks fantasizing about domination. In the case of women, it's us getting excited about someone taking control, sure maybe being violent or aggressive, maybe there are bruises or maybe it's simply a "I want you" "OK!" kind of thing. The point is, in some estimation, it's wanted. Rape is not.

And rape is not something that feminists can "reclaim" like the word "bitch" (something I still have a problem with honestly...). Rape is rape and trying to take it back and own it makes it so we get to be desensitized when shit actually goes down. It's not like you can say "you can't rape me, I've reclaimed the word." I sympathize with the sentiment, we want to control the things we can't. But how about talking about it and trying to spread awareness instead of acting like rape is a thing that is awesome and that we want to pay people to do....that just gets confusing.

So. I suggest that we change our language when referring to these things so as not to confuse the two ever again. That way when someone says "rape fantasy" we can know that they actually mean it and we can then take psychologically responsible action. Let's call it "domination fantasy" or maybe come up with a euphemism...I'm not that clever at the moment, but I'm sure there is one.

"When we refuse to suffer"

I don't think I was supposed to have left the house today. But I kept trying and trying. It all started at 7:47am this morning when my body sensed it was the time that I normally wake up and I said "oh heeelllll no" and went back to sleep.

9:30am rolls around and I hear my roommates wander out of their holes and congregate in the living room. They're laughing, telling stories, and generally making me feel like I'd be missing out on something unless I joined their morning ramblings. So I got out of bed for a full half hour but soon felt a pending hangover and came to the realization that I hadn't actually been awake for any of that half hour- so I went back to sleep. I had some of the strangest dreams I've ever had in my life. I was convinced, in my sleep, that I was awake and all of this stuff was actually happening to me. Flower, the dog, jumped in bed with me, at one point there was a piglet in my bed too. I watched a car crash and saved a pet rat who I could talk to and who lead me on some strange journey to Grass Valley (that part I think I knew was a dream). Then my ex-boyfriend walked into my room without a shirt on and when I asked him why he was there he only said "I have to go" and then left.

These very strange things went on with a scary feeling of reality until 1:20pm when my sister called me. "This is just silliness," said I to myself. "You're a grown-ass individual and it's time to wake on up." And it was so. I took a shower, felt like shit, decided I should grab a bagel at a cafe and enjoy the beautiful weather. It sounded so good. Until I actually tried to eat the bagel and thought I might throw-up.

So I went back home and fell back asleep until 3:40pm. I was pretty sure that the day was really supposed to start at that point so I made myself some food (and finished the bagel I had gotten earlier) and decided a good way to make use of the day I had all but squandered was to see the ocean. So I threw some stuff together and barely caught the N Judah as it squealed past Duboce Park. I even made my way to the front of the train to pay because I felt so lucky to have caught the train. We were moments away from 2nd Ave when the driver (conductor?) announced that because of an accident ahead he was going to have to turn around.

OK- that's fine- I only know, like 4 MUNI routes in the city, so I'll catch the 71 to Haight and Fillmore and take the 22 to the Marina. It's no ocean, but the bay certainly is good for what ails you. The 22 turned out to be about 20 minutes behind schedule so I decided to just make lemonade with the lemons of the day, get some orange juice and start a new book in Duboce Park. It was getting a little chilly, but I was determined to enjoy the rest of the sun.

Life was going well for a good 15 minutes until I decided to roll onto my stomach. Just as the rotation was complete I felt a sharp pain on my forearm just beneath my elbow. I looked and lo-and-behold struggled a bee who, with suicidal instincts, had stuck himself to me. I brushed him off, threw away the stinger, watched the poor thing struggle in the grass and had one of those rare, but so important moments of existential nihilism. On top of reflecting on the uselessness of existence and bitterly laughing at the cruel joke of life, I decided that from the beginning, it was clear that it was one of those days that I was simply not meant to experience, and so I accepted defeat. What I wouldn't give for something to watch a movie on....

Thanks Cyd

funny

Vote Repo

...a bit late...

My Grandma always knows best- thanks Marshall for keeping me on track and updated!

quelque fois...

...I sit with my thumbs a-twittle, wondering at the world. At friends who have fallen in love with Japanese men, been absorbed in strange worlds I'll never see, write to me occasionally about what song it is that reminds them of that one time when. Guitar strings play on without me but I find myself pleasantly silent in the hubub of whatever it is this city has to offer. Be it overpriced ice cream or underpriced all-you-can-eat pizza with more wine than your liver knows how to process on a monday night. screen porches slam, you're caught red-handed with someone else's computer in your lap. writing nonsense.

Try it:

I know that I've mentioned it before with regards to my own url, but give it a whirl yourself:

type in ANY blog address and instead of writing .blogSpot.com, write .blogPot.com....I'm pretty sure it works for anything.

Man...they're good.

Another Beautiful Morning

Problem is...

there was a blue jay on the porch when I took lunch.

and a few weeks ago i accidentally stepped on a snail. heard the crunch and looked over my shoulder to see a cracked house bleeding clear. i wanted to take the shell-halves and scoop up the goo inside, hold it close and whisper incantations that would heal it but also stop it from eating the leaves in our garden.

i've dreamed of it since then but i always use the wrong words to describe dreaming.

anymore
i wonder if the planes fly the way we told them to.
running amok amid some arid zona of forgotten.
flying into godknowswhat
and being swept up in a whirlpool of where we go
when
if
maybe.

people will ask you directions to everywhichway but all they really need is to know you'll never stop loving them and you'll kiss them even when they've lost their lips.

or am i treading through fire?

the moon looks at me like that sometimes:
like i'll never grow up as tall as i want to
because __________
(fill in the blanks at your own discretion)

it's not that the sun has risen and set on me
it's just:
i've only ever seen the sunrise from my window
and the sunset?
well that's a story for when the lights go out

How could I have forgotten...

...Fred Thomas?!! Thanks to Mobile's mixed CD I was reminded. And here he is:
Especially listen to "Come Back"

In other news: I saw Juno last night. I don't really have time to formulate a proper "review" or "opinion piece" about the movie but it did get me to thinking. On the one hand, I liked it. I thought it was funny, clever, entertaining, etc. Despite the fact that everyone kept bringing up about her 'being so mature' I was still not really able to get over her being 16...Obviously the music was fantastic. In the end, though, I was just annoyed. There's such a trend now of movies with these oh-so-quirky-yet-adorable-and-attractive-and-conveniently-ageless female characters who are so hip because they know certain bands or whatever. It started with Ghost World and I feel like has only gone downhill (because it's kind of hard to beat Ghost World...and because the characters in that movie/story are actually fully realized with more than just opinions and interesting clothes and Daniel Clowes is brilliant). I dunno. I prefer this trend to other more blatantly annoying female characters and I don't really know what I'd prefer...it's just these characters seem like such a sad attempt at making the "real" girl and they end up just being another ideal for people to try to live up to. Plus I don't think that Juno would actually think Sonic Youth is "just noise"...that's just silly. Also, something that seems to be a trend in these aesthetically indie flicks is the "mundane-ing" of real life situations. A lot of times this can be a really effective way to get across a general tone that I do believe is in American society. On the other hand...the girl was pregnant. And 16. And that's never really mundane or, rather, that shouldn't ever be mundane. I guess I saw too many high school classmates drop out or watch their lives change so irrevocably to be OK with being OK with the whole teen pregnancy thing. So I'm not sure I'm such a fan of that issue being dealt with in that casual-indie-movie way. On the other hand, as my roommate pointed out, it was nice to see a comedy about the issue instead of some KIDS-esque tragedy where everyone's always drunk and exchanging sTDs. And it's nice to think that there are exceptions to the teen pregnancy stereotype. Well...there that is.

My zine is finished. Now I just have to figure out how to make copies...I made it into a kind of awkward shape.

Stay tuned for my blog on comics...I feel it welling inside of me but I don't have the energy for it today.

short and sweet

What to listen to while drawing
What to listen to while drinking yourself to tears...or just to listen to a good song

50% off meals

I feel a little like my stomach is floundering. Or something just beyond my stomach. In between the organ and the flesh. Some fluttering muscle that makes my whole body confused. Don't want to do much. Just draw and drink coffee despite the fact that I'm still a little on the sick side. Almost 11:00am.

Dear Dr. X,
I knew you like the ocean but, honestly, how many times must you cross it? The office, the street, the city, is lonely without your juggling amongst us. It's hard to get any work done without your little head peeking out above the files on Allison's desk hurling insults at me. Etc. etc. etc.

My horoscope today:
You have plenty of serious things to think about now, but this probably will not stop you from wanting to join in the fun. Even if you are tempted to play the role of the heavy, it really won't be to your benefit. Instead do whatever strategizing you must before letting go of your responsibilities to partake in the pleasures of the day.

hmm...bummer...I was kind of hoping to shirk off the rest of the day. But I guess the stars know what's what...right? The problem with being a capricorn is that all we do is work and all of our horoscopes are about working. Where's my drug binge? My sexual escapades? My stint as a traveling gypsy? Nope, not for me. It's all work work work. Money money money. Rise to the top of this. Lay low tonight you've got work tomorrow. Whatever stars- stick to your own solar systems. Although...rereading that, perhaps it's giving me the day off. As long as I get everything in order first. Do you think that means working instead of writing in my blog?

I'm working on a new zine. I'll put photos up as soon as it's done. This time around I'm doing things a little differently. I'm still taking old things that I've done but I'm taking more time with it- allowing myself to draw straight on the page instead of cutting and pasting old projects. I think I like it. A good combination of working with the old and the new.

What's in my ears (even if it's not actually playing)

no matinee

I found it!

This song is on a mix tape that a friend of mine gave me like 5 years ago and now that the tape is starting to wear I feel the obligation to find it on some kind of digital medium and share it with the world.

Where it all started...

lopsided

good to listen

Words that are good:

1. Windowsill
2. Propinquity
3. Pants
4. Schlep
5. Callipygian

Words from others:

1. Marmalade
2. Biscuit
3. Acquiesce
4. Pickle
5. Swashbuckler
6. Stripes
7. Champ
8. Zenith
9. Cassette
10. Loafers
11. Garments
12. Coagulate
13. Tepid
14. Shrimp
15. Plutocracy
16. Bramble
17. Tumult
18. Parsnip
19. Napkin
20. Skelf

It's over.

So, during twelve balmy sun-soaked cocktails, I told the truth. NO! One truth untold lies and vanquishes rodents...really. All of the men swooned over all of the men. Gay! Also while I was quite serene, I tricked many of my former liaisons into covering these streets with rodents. Scrappy beasts, they were scampering about and people ran fast - terrified that one might introduce itself awkwardly and uninvited impose unnecessary amounts of napkins upon the filth-loving hermaphrodites.

strange

I had the craziest bout of illness yesterday. I think I slept for 24 hours over the course of something like 30. And even though i was feeling pretty awful, there's something kind of nice about literally not being able to do anything- having to rest. Being forced to watch a movie. There aren't too many times when you can guiltlessly do things like that. Plus, this morning, I feel about 85% better! And that's pretty cool. I wandered around Haight Street which is something I generally try to avoid but today seemed to be in the cards. I searched for bowler hats but none were the one I wanted. i went into the Anarchist bookstore and saw some interesting books (mostly by dead Russian and French men). I sneaked into Amoeba and bought FOUR CDS!!!! Wow. Very exciting. When i came back home I tried to finish a painting but I'm not entirely motivated by it. I ended up just covering up a whole bunch of stuff with blue-black. I don't really like acrylics that much I don't think. The only thing I really did was accidentally put my comforter in my painting palette...which is either OK or really sucks. I don't know which one yet. On a point of absolute positivity: I have a pirate pillow case! It was hiding amid the packaging that my sheets came in. It was a total surprise but it looks real nice. It has a pirate flag on one side and a treasure map on the other. Yes! I am sometimes torn with regards to this blog of mine. Sometimes I want to delete it. Sometimes I want to be as superficial as I can possibly be. Sometimes I want to write something pretty or somewhat poetic. Can't ever really decide. I think what comes out is a strange kind of schizophrenic diary. I think I'll leave now. Eat DanDan's cookies and maybe grab some lunch.