You're out of touch, I'm out of time

I saw The House Bunny starring Anna Farris this weekend. Phil and I had talked about going to see it. He likes Anna Farris quite a bit, and I like her well-enough especially in Gregg Araki's Smiley Face. [This scene rules.] I had other movies on my 'To See' list that ranked much higher, and probably would have opted for an Unbox rental or Netflix of The House Bunny. However, Friday morning I became the guardian of my 13 year-old niece, and since I am the reed that bends in the wind when my niece is around, we saw the movie.

Some of you know that she was in town for the week. Her 81 year-old great-grandmother lives in West Seattle, so Lauren and her aunt and uncle from Fort Worth came to spend a week with the octagenarian. I had planned to keep her occupied on Thursday.

So I picked Lauren up from the airport on Saturday. She was an unaccompanied minor. USAirways managed to keep me detained at the kiosk check-in for over an hour. I didn't have a confirmation number or pass because I was picking up a minor, so the ticket agents kepts shooing me away. My niece called me agitated--was I ever going to come to the gate? After the two ticketing agents checked in three flights, they asked me if they could help me. Yes, I informed them, my niece is waiting at the gate for me to come get her.

"Really," asked one of the ticketing agents, "Why didn't you just tell us that you were picking up an unaccompanied minor?" I muttered under my breath that I had, and that this "service" cost my brother and sister-in-law two hundred dollars.

After standing another half hour or so in security, I made my way to the gate where my niece was waiting. She was wearing the same outfit that she wore to my aunt's funeral. It was very formal and, I later learned, very uncomfortable. She had her iPod and issues of MinX, Seventeen and Cosmo Girl.

We descended to the baggage claim as the piece of luggage that read, "Final piece for USAirways" made it way onto the carousel. Of the luggage still in rotation, none belonged to my niece. This put her nearly over the edge. "It'll be fine," I told her. "It probably just got on the next flight. We'll go to Target and get you some sweats, pjs, and a toothbrush." And that's what we did. I left her with her great-grandmother, and returned home for a few days of work.
I met Lauren, her great-grandmother, her aunt, and her uncle for lunch on Wednesday everyone's favorite, Blue C Sushi.
Thursday, I came over around noon and Lauren and I bussed into the city. This was my day to show her the city. We got sandwiches at Salumi and took them to the UPS/Waterfall park. Then we went to the library, and then we made our way to the Seattle Art Museum. Her fingers were rarely away from her phone, furiously texting a battery of friends back east. I showed her her first Warhol, Rothko, Pollack, Manet, Monet, Degas and others. Between pieces, she texted.
Somehow, I doubt the texts looks like this, "omg! pollack sux da big one!!!1! lol!" or "rofl warhol wtf?" or "manet ftw!!1111!!!!"

Then it was up to Seattle Center where she had been before, so I didn't have to waste precious money on a trip to the top of the needle. For dinner, we went to one of my favorite places, 611 Supreme. Lauren only had soup. The topper for the evening was the world-premiere of Shrek: The Musical at the 5th Avenue theater. The show is Broadway bound and I was happy that my niece and I could see it together.

Needless to say, Thursday really wiped me out. Her great-grandmother had mentioned taking us to Tillicum Village on Friday, but I told Lauren to get me out of it. So when the phone started ringing on Friday morning, I ignored it, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
I could not, however, ignore the knocking at my door Friday morning.

Lauren's aunt was standing at the door with Lauren. "Guess what! You just gave birth to a 13 year-old girl," she said as she pulled Lauren's suitcase onto the porch. I was still out of it and didn't really understand what was going on. It turns out that Lauren's great-grandmother had a bout with dementia and accused all of them of stealing from her. There was name-calling, and overall it sounded like a pretty crummy time.

I removed The Big Penis Book from the coffee table and tidied up as best I could in a short amount of time. So I got to spend a couple extra days with niece. My niece who likes Guns'n'Roses and Marilyn Manson and Celine Dion and Shania Twain. We talked about video games and I let her play some of my World of Warcraft characters. She's the first member of my family to meet Phil. "Phil's really great," she told me on our car ride to the airport on Sunday.

"Yeah, he is, isn't he," I replied. So maybe this is that summer for her--you know the one like in those coming-of-age stories--the kind that change your life. Maybe its that kind of summer for me.

FarmHaus Modern

Just wanted to mention that my dear friend from college Heidi has begun blogging.
Please take the time to visit her lovely little corner of the web.

FarmHaus Modern

Wiling away the time

Go make shoes. It is highly therapeutic.

These are mine.

They are ugly and I like them.

Now you go make yours.

Be sure to post a link to them in the comments section.

Maudlin Monday

I'll be leaving town tomorrow to go to my aunt's funeral in Cleveland on Tuesday. Naturally, my thoughts have been much more nostalgic and sentimental lately. Didn't help any that my babysitter up until I was, like, 7 or so got in contact with me through Facebook.

And then I heard this story on NPR. I liked it quite a bit, but it added to that feeling.

Decibel Festival '08

I'm not buying a festival pass this year. If you'd like to, go here.

I'm only going to see Carl.

Bam! Pow!

A couple lines about this summer's comic book exstravaganza--

Iron Man -- Mostly enjoyable but no real sense of an enemy until the final third of the film--I mean, sure, we all knew the Dude was gonna be the bad guy, but he wasn't really that bad until the end. Some fun sequences and really Robert Downey Jr.'s show.

The Incredible Hulk -- Took itself a little too seriously for my tastes. One joke about purple stretch pants was about the only moment of levity. The Abomination fight at the end was pretty anti-climatic. There wasn't even the "Oh no he's really not dead" take.

Hellboy 2 - All around great time. Had some fun B-movie nods with outstanding special effects. The expository dialogue was peppered well with characterization which adds to the completeness of the film's universe. The only storyline which seemed a bit forced was the Duala/Abe love story. It existed in too few scenes or the intensity of their meeting when they pressed hands wasn't played up. A genuinely fun film.

The Dark Knight - Kind of a mess. Some glaring plot holes and poor character development all-around with the exception of maybe James Gordon. I saw it on IMAX and I couldn't tell what sequences were filmed for IMAX which was a bit disappointing. As for that character development--Rachel and Harvey never quite seemed in love, therefore Harvey's transformation seemed implausible. The implications that the Joker manifested as a result of Batman's hubris were pretty laughable because we never get anything other than an action hero.
As for those plot holes--who took care of the Joker after Batman saved Rachel?
And I'm sure it was glossed over in some dialogue from a news anchor or something--but how did those people end up on the ferry boats?

I liked them all well-enough, though, and I'm probably being a mite hard on The Dark Knight because I felt a wee bit ripped off and let down. I think if I had seen it this weekend after the first wave of mania subsided on a normal sized screen that didn't cost (Phil) $15 a ticket, I would have been a little more forgiving--or rather could have given into it a bit more.

You're a pal and a confidante

I just wanted to express my gratitude to the wonderful array of people who sent me birthday wishes. This year, I really wasn't feeling celebratory. My patient boyfriend bent over backwards (at one point literally) to ensure I tolerated my old-i-ness with a modicum of composure. But there was no beach blowout like last year or classy restaurant get-together like the year prior.
There were text messages and phone calls and facebook wall-writing and comments left on the previous post and even a rather embarrassing blog post replete with picture. So thanks for thinking of me, for making me feel valued. I swear I'll feel up to speed sometime soon, and I swear there will be a party--not a birthday party, but a gathering of those near and dear party. 'Cause lord knows I like to party.

Expires 6/30/08

If you had a coupon that said it expired on 6/30/08--would you think that you could use it on that date for the discount?
Yeah, so does everyone else--except for the asshole Papa John's on Holman Road that took the time to send out "Neighborly" coupons and then wouldn't redeem them.
Screw you. Your pizza sucks anyway.

Looking from a window above

I'm so bummed that Yazoo is touring and they're playing nowhere near here.
Maybe if I had heard about the show before today, I would have planned something for my birthday.

As it is, I'll just hum along as their songs play through my headphones on the bus ride home.
Sometimes I wish mp3s got worn out like my old TDK mix tape that got creaky and shift-pitchy from rewinding and playing Only You over and over.

The song after Only You on that mix tape was Sparks--who also had a comeback of sorts this year.

Whatever, I do what I want!

Yeah, I'll admit it--this story cracked me up.

Why can't more young people commit to something and follow through?

RIP - Cyd Charisse

I always liked her--I don't know why. Maybe its because first and foremost she was a dancer. Lord knows I like dancers.
Speaking of . . . isn't Comfort on SYTYCD, like, the greatest reality TV personality ever?

She was a classy lady (and a Party Girl before Parker, no less) who aged very gracefully. Rest in peace.

OMG shoez

Even though Booka Shade's newest album isn't everything I'd hoped it would be, its still has some lovely tracks with impeccable production.
More impressive than their latest album, however, is their pairing with K-Swiss to make limited edition sneaks.
You can add these to the list of other limited edition sneaks I want (like these and these).

A love we all came to know

Way back in October--or actually it might have been November 1st--Tennille and I saw the whiz-bang production of Xanadu on Broadway. It was recently nominated for multiple Tony awards.
I hope it wins lots of awards--its a fun, bright, silly show with a wonderful cast. But maybe its too gay . . .
(via Towleroad)

Fer serious?

The douchebags across the street are renting out their house--for $2100/mo!
Ha! That number is so completely outrageous for their tiny little houes. Its 650 sq. ft. with a 700 sq. ft. unfinished basement. The city only lists it as a one bedroom--so you can just imagine how tiny and crappy rooms 2 and 3 are.
These are the same douchebags who go out of their way to tell us that we CAN'T PARK ON THE STREET!
I hope this listing sits. And sits. And sits.
Oh, but the guy who lives there, even tho he's a total dick, has a smokin' body. Phil and I were getting the mail last week when he was cleaning out the eaves. He was shirtless and his back was to us--we both couldn't look away.

Oh, and to give you an idea about our "friendly and safe" neighborhood--we have section 8 housing next door. They nearly always have an empty grocery cart in their yard. When there was a shooting at the QFC by our house, the standoff ended at the neighbors with our neighbor's friend surrendering to the cops.
About a month ago, the cops had our block cut off to traffic and there were two police helicopters overhead.

$2100--yeah right!

Round on the sides

When I learned my aunt had pancreatic cancer, I resolved to go and visit her. To pay my respects. My aunt named me. If my mother had her way, I would be Curtis Carver. If my father had his way, I would be Travis Austin. I had to, at the very least, tell her thank you for sparing me either of those atrocities. (Can you imagine how horrible my young Texan life would have been if I had been named Travis Austin?)

So I packed my bag, bought the issue of the New Yorker with the David Sedaris article on quitting smoking, and left for Cleveland.

My mom had flown in the day prior, and she and my aunt picked me up at the airport. If I didn't know differently, I wouldn't have thought that my aunt was wearing a wig. If I didn't know differently, I wouldn't have thought that she just finished her 6th round of chemo the previous week. She looked good.

I had considered writing her a letter and leaving it for her to find after I left, but instead, I played it by ear, hoping I would be able to find the courage to verbalize my thanks to her. The first day my mom, she, and I played Blokus and Skip-Bo. We laughed. We reminisced. My aunt asked me about Phil.
What's he like?
What's he studying?
Where does he work?
How long have you been dating?
My mom, I think, didn't want to seem out of touch with me, so she acted like she knew things about Phil--about his work and school schedule, about how much time we get to see each other. Maybe its my fault, I thought, Maybe my mother is truly curious about my life and not ashamed of it. But there has already been so much damage to our relationship. I destroyed any trust and hope my mother had in me. She destroyed the safety and security I felt in my family. So my aunt, who has never been encumbered by the dynamics of my relationship with my mother, was able to sidestep those land mines and just show genuine interest in my life.

The next day my father and uncle arrived. My uncle works out of town and comes home on the weekends. My father came to see me. We made small talk. My uncle told me the "What's better than roses on your piano?" joke. When a commercial for National Treasure 2 came on, my dad told me he had seen it with the grandkids. He liked it--"You'd like it, too," he said. Then, realizing who he was talking to, he added, "I think."
I found it interesting that the men seemed the least well-equipped to handle the situation. They go stir-crazy quickly and look for any excuse to leave the house. I went with them once on an outing to get snacks before dinner. We didn't go to the grocery store around the corner. We took a twenty minute drive to a mom and pop place that sold "trail bologna." I would have rather spent the time sitting in the same room with the person I came to see, even if she were sleeping.

Every night I rubbed my mom and my aunt's feet. Both appreciated it, but my aunt, who uses crutches because the cancer is now in her legs and the chemo causes numbness in her legs, would close her eyes, lay her head back, and sigh. Those sighs, to me, held the secret of how much pain she was actually in. In fact, by the time I left, I got the impression that most of her behavior was just show--she was in a great deal of pain.

Sunday was the Kentucky Derby. We all picked a horse. I picked the longshot. My mom picked the surefire thing. My dad and uncle went for ones that had decent odds, but weren't supposed to win, place, or show. My aunt picked the only filly.
When the race was over, the filly was in second. As she crossed the finish line, two of her ankles shattered and she had to be euthanized.
It was moments like that acted as the counterpoint to any normalcy we felt. The spectre of death that was biting into my aunt's femur shattered the ankles of that horse--he wasn't going to let us forget that he was there.

Sunday night brought the shows they all watch--"Desperate Housewives" and "Brothers and Sisters." I watch both shows at work. "Brothers and Sisters" was the episode where the gay guys get engaged. It was torturous--sitting in the same room with my mother and father watching two men kiss on TV. And not just kiss, but full-on, spit-swappin' kiss. Everyone was silent.
"Chuck and Donna, friends of ours, have two sons--both are gay, and they introduce their partners as 'husbands'," my aunt said, "Do you think that's strange? I mean, I always hear 'partner' but 'husband' sounds like a man and a woman to me."
"Well, most of the people I know," I answered, "Use the term partner."
My father almost doesn't squirm at talk like this any more. Recently he told me that he really liked Ellen DeGeneres. Some progress is better than none (and dude is 71).


Monday morning everyone left--mom and dad for Texas, my uncle for work. My flight wasn't until the next day. I had an entire day with my aunt, and I knew what I wanted to say. I didn't know if I'd find the right time to say it.
So she and I played Skip Bo. We sat on the porch as yet another rain storm came through. She told me how angry she was. How she's played over and over in her mind things that she might have done differently to avoid this impending painful death. I told her that my mom had always wanted to grow old with her--even moreso than my dad. She said that more than anything she wanted to see her grandchildren grow up and get married. I told her that she would, but she wouldn't be in pain.
And I don't remember exactly how it came up, but the moment presented itself.
"Out of all the members of my family--your daughters included--you are the only person who never made me feel less than or different because of my sexuality. You always welcomed me and had a place for me at your beautiful Thanksgiving table. And I just wanted to say thank you for that."
Maybe it wasn't exactly as eloquent as that, but I told her most of what I wanted to tell her.

Conversations at 8508

"She has a messed up face. It's like . . . "

"Shannen Doherty."

"No."

"Melissa Joan Hart."
"No, but both of them are messed up like her . . . I was thinking of . . . 'I can be sexy, too, Dawson.'"

"Katie Holmes."
"Yes."

(I'm brewing up a family post--not to make Tennille's sister cry--but just cuz I know so many people wonder how things went. Came back from "vacation" to crazy work stuff. But it'll be up soon. In the meantime, enjoy the witty repartee from 8508.)

Anniversary

Still in lovely Ohio, but just a quick note--

I've been cigarette free for one year.

Go me!

Light flow days

Off to Ohio for a bit.
Yeah!
Watch out Cleve, here I come!

Might have time to post. Might not.

Jesus Christ

I'm awesome!

You know the Bible 88%!

Wow! You are awesome! You are a true Biblical scholar, not just a hearer but a personal reader! The books, the characters, the events, the verses - you know it all! You are fantastic!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes

Rock down to electric avenue

Yikes!
Its been a while.
Sorry for that.

Keepin' this one pretty short and sweet. Heading out of town in a week. I'll try to post a few more before, but I've been so focused on saving gold for my epic flying mount . . . and on getting 75 badges (yeah, I nerded all over the place).

So a couple interested readers have been curious about what music I've been listening to lately.

Well, thanks to Thomas over at AM 180, I dicovered Wye Oak. I really like their sound. Good for a rainy day, and lord knows we get enough of those around here.

I also recently picked up Fabriclive 36 mixed by James Murphy and Pat Mahoney. Its a great mix with some choice old skool cuts as well as some nice contemporary tracks with a nostalgic feel. If you need disco, but like your music a bit more quantized and poundy, then you really can't go wrong with this mix.

Booka Shade has a new mix out on Studio K7!'s long-running DJ Kicks series. Now we're nowhere near the series' heyday of Kid Loco, Kruder & Dorfmeister, and Theivery Corporation, but that's not a bad thing. Booka brings their sound and are pushing their label's newer tracks, like Lopazz's "2 Fast 4 U" and they are able to find a nice balance between what Get Physical produces and what K7 brands.

The mix I just can't get enough of these days is Body Language vol. 5 by Chateau Flight. It culls electro basslines and transmutes them into noiz pop and nurave and back again, but the scorcher that puts the whole disc in place is Ceramic Hello's "Sampling the Blast Furnace." If you don't get splinters from tearing up the dancefloor after that track, then you're not listening to it loud enough.

The most disappointing mixes I've listened to lately are M.A.N.D.Y.'s Fabric 38 and Junior Boys' Body Language vol. 6. Both mixes have some killer tracks, but really what sinks them are the tracks the just don't fit. The Junior Boys disc is also marred with some crummy mixing (I do better with my crap program). M.A.N.D.Y.'s mix tries really hard to include so many sounds that it becomes mind-numbing around track ten and flatout aggrevating by track 15.
The Junior Boys fare a tad better mainly because their track selection until the last five tracks are phenomenal.
If you want a good M.A.N.D.Y. mix, grab their At the Controls album (which admittedly is more track than mix oriented, but still a better disc).
And the JB's, as much as I love them, should stick to producing their own brand of crooner meets synth-pop.