Wishing I was.
Yesterday I was sitting here typing at work. Doing research on this or that. I found myself daydreaming about New York City. In my daydream, I'm getting off work, here in my same office. But when I walk outside its different. It's midtown Manhattan. I see a subway entrance and walk down the steps. My my my metro card lets me through the turnstile and I can instantly smell and feel the heat from the oily subway tunnels. I get on a train that takes me closer to where I need to go. Rocking up the tracks I get off somewhere uptown. I emerge from underground and walk up some street, passing the tiny markets, eyeing fresh fruits and flowers in season. I get an idea for dinner and stop into Zabar's where I load a basket full of ingredients. Then I snap out of it, and I'm here in West Sacramento again. I hop in my boring Echo and drive to the library in midtown Sacramento, pick up the next book club selection, head home to my tiny apartment where my boyfriend is playing with his new iPod and one of the cats is crying for fresh water because the other one put food in it. We eat leftovers for dinner, both fall asleep on the couch and both miss our alarm in the morning.
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
Monday, August 04, 2003
Back to normal.
Now that I'm back to my life, things are settling down slowly and I can write about mundane things.
Take the nightmare I had last night:
I dreamed that I was a serial strangler. I had just comitted my latest multiple strangling and I turned myself in to the authorities. While waiting to be hauled in to jail a bystander asked me what prison was like. I replied with this: "It's like a really bad camp." Then I felt immense regret and I was taken to the prison. I woke up before anything else happened.
Now that I'm back to my life, things are settling down slowly and I can write about mundane things.
Take the nightmare I had last night:
I dreamed that I was a serial strangler. I had just comitted my latest multiple strangling and I turned myself in to the authorities. While waiting to be hauled in to jail a bystander asked me what prison was like. I replied with this: "It's like a really bad camp." Then I felt immense regret and I was taken to the prison. I woke up before anything else happened.
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
My summer vacation
[Part Four]
July 16, 2003
Waking up at Seamus's house in Portland. We had just played at the Blackbird. It was hot and stuffy in our room; I couldn't get the window to stay open. It was maybe 8:00 am. I looked over at my water bottle and thanked it for saving me from a likely hangover. I finished my library book and woke up Leon. We hadn't really spent any time together being us during the whole tour, so we decided to go on a breakfast date, just us. We navigated our way through the neighborhood, admiring houses and buildings, to the Cricket Cafe, where we had eaten the day before. We ordered food, but it wasn't as good as the first time,which was fine with me because then I wouldn't miss it so much when we had to leave. We walked back and woke up Charles and Amy, showered, dressed and went out again to hit a music store to find Amy a hard case for her 12 string. We walked into one store and due to some strange coincidence, the Dj from chopsticks karaoke was working behind the counter. So he gave Amy a deal and then we went out to lunch at Dot's. Mmmm, Dot's. I split a black bean quesadilla and greek salad with Leon. We went back to Seamus's and relaxed a bit before taking off to Seattle.
Drive, drive up the 5. We got to Seattle and met up with Chris, who was going to show us to his house so that we could dump off our stuff. Ann came too so that she could stop and pick up a keyboard stand they left at a radio station. We met Chris's wife and ate some raspberries they had growing in their back yard. Then we headed up to Chop Suey so that we could watch Radio Dept. and Pipas play with the Vells. To our suprise and complete amazment, Chop Suey had a backstage area/green room stocked with beer and water, as well as a private restroom. Wow. We gathered up Radio Dept., Pipas, Evening Lights and all went out to eat Vietnamese food. The food wasn't great, but it was nice being with everyone and sharing a meal. We went back to the club and got some drinks while we waited for the band to start. I kept getting the bartentder who made weak well drinks, so I stopped drinking. Finally the Pipas played and we danced and sang along. Then we spent the Vells set in their green room drinking their beer and water, playing a game about assesing characters and getting others to guess who you're thinking about. Leon is a beet, Ed is plaid, Lupe was lavendar. No one picked me, so I'm curious about what I'd be. I almost regretted drinking the other bands beer, but then I remembered that the Vells were jerks and took naughty nose drugs. Radio Dept. were on, so we went out and watched them. I received a telegram from Charles that Ed was really drunk and being funny. I passed the message on and we all gravitated towards the merch table to see if we could hear anything. Nothing....yet. The efforts to put together an after party succeeded, but it had to be at Chris's house. Where Arianne was sleeping. All the bands met up at Chris's and promised to be quiet. We said our goodbyes to the Pipas who were leaving to the East Coast the next day. Ah, they were so fun to hang out with. So kind, so genuine. We all headed inside, cracked open a 12 pack of PBR and the Swedes taught us how to play a game called Mafia. They were so endearing. They almost didn't want to play because they claimed not to speak english well enough, but to me their english was flawless. I fell asleep after a while, but not before correctly guessing who was the mafia.
July 17, 2003
I slept in, or rather tried to sleep in on Chris and Arianne's floor. I woke up at 7:30 but kept drifting in and out of sleep. I finally rose at around 10 am with everyone else. The cat sauntered out and I pet him until I shed enough hair off of his coat to assemble another cat. Amy and Charles roused from the van. We all couldn't decide where to eat breakfast, so we ate lunch instead. Afterwards some of us decided to go on a shopping tour of Seattle and the rest decided to play it low-key in a park feeding rabbits. I decided to go with the shopping camp, which consisted of the Frenchmen and Ann. Ann had been sort of reserved most of the tour, but she really opened up to us once we got to spend some time alone with her. She's interesting; CPA by day and rock and roller by night. We walked through downtown looking for Urban Outfitters. This afternoon was the start of what could be considered my best shopping day ever. I found some great 99 cent necklaces, bracelettes, earrings and scarves, then a shirt for $28. The shirt was a bit much, but it all evened out somewhere. Next we headed up to Capitol Hill to see Sonic Boom. By luck, on the way we happened upon Atlas Clothing where I found a pair of perfect red hoop earrings and a huge, vintage, white Lesportsac bag for $16. Inside the bag I found the original '80s style price tag for $70. Then we walked up hill after hill to Sonic Boom. We didn't find much there, so we went back to Chris's, loaded up the van and headed off to the club. Load in was to be at 8:00, sound check at around 8:30 and the first band would have played at around 9:00. Things were off to a late start and a few gaskets were blown, including my own. Some people were upset about the late start and I was upset that people were upset about that. The best weekly paper in the world helped me get this show. It was by their graces that the other band that we were touring with even made it up on the bill. It was also tied into my professional relationship with this paper. So imagine my shock and hurt feelings when I heard sinde comments about the club from the other band as well as their urgance to the opening band (and employees of the best weekly paper in the world) to hurry up and start. I was furious. At any rate, we played, they played, everyone played until the club started to clear out and I left my check card at the bar. We slept in Marty's spare room of his impeccably decorated home. The other band went home.
July 18, 2003
We woke ourselves early at 5:45 and were out the door and on the road by 6:00 am. Thus began our trek back to Sacramento. We stopped in Olympia for bagels and it wasn't until we were almost to Portland that I realized I had left my check card at the bar. Stupid me. We couldn't go back to get it without adding an extra six hours onto our trip, so we kept going. I called the club later and had them destroy it. "You mean you're never coming back?" they asked me. I told them I lived in Sacramento and wouldn't know when I'd be back. It's a long way between our cities. I don't remember much of the ride back besides falling in love with the Pipas CD, seeing a hillside fire caused by a melted big rig and stopping for lunch in Ashland. We finally rolled back into Sacramento at about 8:00. It was at least 95 degrees at dusk. We had some pizza, seperated our gear and went to our respective homes. Our apartment was like an oven and our cats were like tiny, cranky roasted game hens. I'm suprised they've since forgiven us. Sleeping in my own bed was something I'd grown to miss. Needless to say, I slept like a baby.
[Part Four]
July 16, 2003
Waking up at Seamus's house in Portland. We had just played at the Blackbird. It was hot and stuffy in our room; I couldn't get the window to stay open. It was maybe 8:00 am. I looked over at my water bottle and thanked it for saving me from a likely hangover. I finished my library book and woke up Leon. We hadn't really spent any time together being us during the whole tour, so we decided to go on a breakfast date, just us. We navigated our way through the neighborhood, admiring houses and buildings, to the Cricket Cafe, where we had eaten the day before. We ordered food, but it wasn't as good as the first time,which was fine with me because then I wouldn't miss it so much when we had to leave. We walked back and woke up Charles and Amy, showered, dressed and went out again to hit a music store to find Amy a hard case for her 12 string. We walked into one store and due to some strange coincidence, the Dj from chopsticks karaoke was working behind the counter. So he gave Amy a deal and then we went out to lunch at Dot's. Mmmm, Dot's. I split a black bean quesadilla and greek salad with Leon. We went back to Seamus's and relaxed a bit before taking off to Seattle.
Drive, drive up the 5. We got to Seattle and met up with Chris, who was going to show us to his house so that we could dump off our stuff. Ann came too so that she could stop and pick up a keyboard stand they left at a radio station. We met Chris's wife and ate some raspberries they had growing in their back yard. Then we headed up to Chop Suey so that we could watch Radio Dept. and Pipas play with the Vells. To our suprise and complete amazment, Chop Suey had a backstage area/green room stocked with beer and water, as well as a private restroom. Wow. We gathered up Radio Dept., Pipas, Evening Lights and all went out to eat Vietnamese food. The food wasn't great, but it was nice being with everyone and sharing a meal. We went back to the club and got some drinks while we waited for the band to start. I kept getting the bartentder who made weak well drinks, so I stopped drinking. Finally the Pipas played and we danced and sang along. Then we spent the Vells set in their green room drinking their beer and water, playing a game about assesing characters and getting others to guess who you're thinking about. Leon is a beet, Ed is plaid, Lupe was lavendar. No one picked me, so I'm curious about what I'd be. I almost regretted drinking the other bands beer, but then I remembered that the Vells were jerks and took naughty nose drugs. Radio Dept. were on, so we went out and watched them. I received a telegram from Charles that Ed was really drunk and being funny. I passed the message on and we all gravitated towards the merch table to see if we could hear anything. Nothing....yet. The efforts to put together an after party succeeded, but it had to be at Chris's house. Where Arianne was sleeping. All the bands met up at Chris's and promised to be quiet. We said our goodbyes to the Pipas who were leaving to the East Coast the next day. Ah, they were so fun to hang out with. So kind, so genuine. We all headed inside, cracked open a 12 pack of PBR and the Swedes taught us how to play a game called Mafia. They were so endearing. They almost didn't want to play because they claimed not to speak english well enough, but to me their english was flawless. I fell asleep after a while, but not before correctly guessing who was the mafia.
July 17, 2003
I slept in, or rather tried to sleep in on Chris and Arianne's floor. I woke up at 7:30 but kept drifting in and out of sleep. I finally rose at around 10 am with everyone else. The cat sauntered out and I pet him until I shed enough hair off of his coat to assemble another cat. Amy and Charles roused from the van. We all couldn't decide where to eat breakfast, so we ate lunch instead. Afterwards some of us decided to go on a shopping tour of Seattle and the rest decided to play it low-key in a park feeding rabbits. I decided to go with the shopping camp, which consisted of the Frenchmen and Ann. Ann had been sort of reserved most of the tour, but she really opened up to us once we got to spend some time alone with her. She's interesting; CPA by day and rock and roller by night. We walked through downtown looking for Urban Outfitters. This afternoon was the start of what could be considered my best shopping day ever. I found some great 99 cent necklaces, bracelettes, earrings and scarves, then a shirt for $28. The shirt was a bit much, but it all evened out somewhere. Next we headed up to Capitol Hill to see Sonic Boom. By luck, on the way we happened upon Atlas Clothing where I found a pair of perfect red hoop earrings and a huge, vintage, white Lesportsac bag for $16. Inside the bag I found the original '80s style price tag for $70. Then we walked up hill after hill to Sonic Boom. We didn't find much there, so we went back to Chris's, loaded up the van and headed off to the club. Load in was to be at 8:00, sound check at around 8:30 and the first band would have played at around 9:00. Things were off to a late start and a few gaskets were blown, including my own. Some people were upset about the late start and I was upset that people were upset about that. The best weekly paper in the world helped me get this show. It was by their graces that the other band that we were touring with even made it up on the bill. It was also tied into my professional relationship with this paper. So imagine my shock and hurt feelings when I heard sinde comments about the club from the other band as well as their urgance to the opening band (and employees of the best weekly paper in the world) to hurry up and start. I was furious. At any rate, we played, they played, everyone played until the club started to clear out and I left my check card at the bar. We slept in Marty's spare room of his impeccably decorated home. The other band went home.
July 18, 2003
We woke ourselves early at 5:45 and were out the door and on the road by 6:00 am. Thus began our trek back to Sacramento. We stopped in Olympia for bagels and it wasn't until we were almost to Portland that I realized I had left my check card at the bar. Stupid me. We couldn't go back to get it without adding an extra six hours onto our trip, so we kept going. I called the club later and had them destroy it. "You mean you're never coming back?" they asked me. I told them I lived in Sacramento and wouldn't know when I'd be back. It's a long way between our cities. I don't remember much of the ride back besides falling in love with the Pipas CD, seeing a hillside fire caused by a melted big rig and stopping for lunch in Ashland. We finally rolled back into Sacramento at about 8:00. It was at least 95 degrees at dusk. We had some pizza, seperated our gear and went to our respective homes. Our apartment was like an oven and our cats were like tiny, cranky roasted game hens. I'm suprised they've since forgiven us. Sleeping in my own bed was something I'd grown to miss. Needless to say, I slept like a baby.
Monday, July 28, 2003
My summer vacation
[Part Three]
July 14, 2003
Driving to Portland. We stopped in Mount Shasta for coffee and water. The landscape was so pretty that it made me wish that we were camping instead. We continued up north and I took over the driving from Ashland. I stopped us in Grants Pass for lunch...Taco Bell. We stuffed ourselves cheaply and regretted it later. Drive, drive, drive. Nearer to Portland Leon took the wheel again and Amy organized a karaoke excursion. We were to stay at Seamus's house. A friend of Amy's, who used to live in SF. We got there and introduced ourselves in a barbershop quartet fashion, which really, more people should do. He and his housemates were wonderfuly nice and more than happy to accompany us to Chopsticks for karaoke. The Evening Lighes met us there. Of course the DJs favor the regulars and only some of us sang. Ed and Matthew did a knock out version of Unbelievable by EMF and our host Seamus did Punk Rock Girl by the Dead Milkmen like he wrote it. Leon and I did our usual Nuthin' But A G Thing. I'm the capital S, oh yes, the fresh N-double O-P, D-O-double G-Y D-O-double G ya' see. Before too long the smoke really got to me and my tattoo got all puffed up and itchy, as did my eyes. We left and walked back in the balmy Portland night.
July 15, 2003
We woke and had a late breakfast with Seamus at Cricket Cafe. So many vegetarian choices! I loved it. Next we went shopping on Hawthorne, record shops, clothes shops. We ran into Radio Dept. and the Evening Lights who were also out shopping. It made me think of that movie Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn where they all go to Paris, feign like they're tired and vow to reside to their rooms, but all sneak out, go sight-seeing and eventually converge under the Eiffel Tower, sing a song and do a dance in perfect sync. Well, okay. It wasn't really like that, but we could have made a musical about it. I got a call from Marty at the Stranger. He was so gracious to help us and the Evening Lights get added to a show in Seattle. We put John on the task of cancelling Everett. Why play there when we could play Seattle? Much props to Marty. He even got us in a print ad out of thin air. We tooled around Hawthorn for a bit, digesting breakfast then walked through the neatest neighborhood, back to Seamus's for a nap before the show. I always really like Portland when I visit, but I just can't see myself living there. I love Sacramento too much; there's a lot of comfort for me in knowing someone everywhere I go in my hometown. In Portland, I'm a stranger, I'm lonely. We loaded up the van again and headed down to the club. A few of the Evening Lights were standing outside already when we pulled up. John was not satisfied with our parking job, so he directed Leon to re-park. That's John. Matthew accosted us with sour candy spray. The Blackbird was a nice sized club. They had food and a full bar. We ordered food (long story) but didn't get it for 2 hours. Hungry, we set up and played, but I guess that's better than playing on a full stomach. We couldn't hear eachother on the stage, so I got lost a few times and messed up. The Evening Lights made some lude gestures in my direction during our set and so I messed up again. Sometimes, when I'm done playing, I really don't know what to do with myself. I wandered around the club for a bit, used all three ladies restrooms to make sure I didn't miss any good grafitti, drank some beers then decided to watch the bands. Amanda from Free Loan Investments bought and donned one of shirts, then played a song with the Pipas as their drummer. I had to take a photo. Afterwards, Amy tried to organize a party but everything sort of fell apart, so we said our farewells to Aerospace and we went back to Seamus's and fell asleep. I was really kind of bummed out about this show. I didn't see many locals, the food made me ill, I couldn't hear anything on stage and it was over too late. Though some things I will recall fondly: Dr.Christer, spanky dances, shouting Matthew's name and fainting during his bass solo, and the Pipas and the song about the email.
Our next day would be spent tying up Portland and moving on to Seattle.
[Part Three]
July 14, 2003
Driving to Portland. We stopped in Mount Shasta for coffee and water. The landscape was so pretty that it made me wish that we were camping instead. We continued up north and I took over the driving from Ashland. I stopped us in Grants Pass for lunch...Taco Bell. We stuffed ourselves cheaply and regretted it later. Drive, drive, drive. Nearer to Portland Leon took the wheel again and Amy organized a karaoke excursion. We were to stay at Seamus's house. A friend of Amy's, who used to live in SF. We got there and introduced ourselves in a barbershop quartet fashion, which really, more people should do. He and his housemates were wonderfuly nice and more than happy to accompany us to Chopsticks for karaoke. The Evening Lighes met us there. Of course the DJs favor the regulars and only some of us sang. Ed and Matthew did a knock out version of Unbelievable by EMF and our host Seamus did Punk Rock Girl by the Dead Milkmen like he wrote it. Leon and I did our usual Nuthin' But A G Thing. I'm the capital S, oh yes, the fresh N-double O-P, D-O-double G-Y D-O-double G ya' see. Before too long the smoke really got to me and my tattoo got all puffed up and itchy, as did my eyes. We left and walked back in the balmy Portland night.
July 15, 2003
We woke and had a late breakfast with Seamus at Cricket Cafe. So many vegetarian choices! I loved it. Next we went shopping on Hawthorne, record shops, clothes shops. We ran into Radio Dept. and the Evening Lights who were also out shopping. It made me think of that movie Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn where they all go to Paris, feign like they're tired and vow to reside to their rooms, but all sneak out, go sight-seeing and eventually converge under the Eiffel Tower, sing a song and do a dance in perfect sync. Well, okay. It wasn't really like that, but we could have made a musical about it. I got a call from Marty at the Stranger. He was so gracious to help us and the Evening Lights get added to a show in Seattle. We put John on the task of cancelling Everett. Why play there when we could play Seattle? Much props to Marty. He even got us in a print ad out of thin air. We tooled around Hawthorn for a bit, digesting breakfast then walked through the neatest neighborhood, back to Seamus's for a nap before the show. I always really like Portland when I visit, but I just can't see myself living there. I love Sacramento too much; there's a lot of comfort for me in knowing someone everywhere I go in my hometown. In Portland, I'm a stranger, I'm lonely. We loaded up the van again and headed down to the club. A few of the Evening Lights were standing outside already when we pulled up. John was not satisfied with our parking job, so he directed Leon to re-park. That's John. Matthew accosted us with sour candy spray. The Blackbird was a nice sized club. They had food and a full bar. We ordered food (long story) but didn't get it for 2 hours. Hungry, we set up and played, but I guess that's better than playing on a full stomach. We couldn't hear eachother on the stage, so I got lost a few times and messed up. The Evening Lights made some lude gestures in my direction during our set and so I messed up again. Sometimes, when I'm done playing, I really don't know what to do with myself. I wandered around the club for a bit, used all three ladies restrooms to make sure I didn't miss any good grafitti, drank some beers then decided to watch the bands. Amanda from Free Loan Investments bought and donned one of shirts, then played a song with the Pipas as their drummer. I had to take a photo. Afterwards, Amy tried to organize a party but everything sort of fell apart, so we said our farewells to Aerospace and we went back to Seamus's and fell asleep. I was really kind of bummed out about this show. I didn't see many locals, the food made me ill, I couldn't hear anything on stage and it was over too late. Though some things I will recall fondly: Dr.Christer, spanky dances, shouting Matthew's name and fainting during his bass solo, and the Pipas and the song about the email.
Our next day would be spent tying up Portland and moving on to Seattle.
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