Too long in Ballard

I live mere blocks from the Nordic Heritage Museum.

In fact, I've lived in the Scandanavian neighborhood of Seattle for the enitre six years I've lived here. I used to live close to a lutefisk store. No, for real.

I think all this time in Ballard has been affecting my musical proclivities.

Witness:

The Knife - Silent Shout - Sweden

The Concretes - In Colour - Sweden

Jenny Wilson - Love and Youth - Sweden

Peter, Bjorn, and John - Writer's Block - Sweden

Trentemoller - The Last Resort - Denmark

And there's more, too. Like all that house-y shit I listen to. You know, the Dahlbacks and stuff.

At least I'm not watching The Seventh Seal or something.

Oh, and congrats to Jenny Wilson for giving birth to a little boy!!

While I'm at it, check out the latest The Knife video:

Oh, and here's a link to their live show--a DVD from their latest tour should be out sometime in the not too distant future (Nov. 8th foreign release). Check out this clip from it [takes forever to load].

In common

Facial hair
Glasses
Ballard
Twin Peaks
The Simpsons
Hank Hill impressions
Midday drinks
Midday naps
Comic books

Answer Key

1. F - In seven whole days, I went once. Count it, uno. I'm pathetic. At least my gym bag is packed and ready to go, like it has been for the past 5 days.
2. F - My father has and does refer to the chorus as, "your little glee club," true. This was a trick question, he did not refer to it that way in the past week.
3. F - You've got to be kidding. I only get things for my nieces when I see them. I know, I'm a bad uncle. Sue me. I'm still "fun Uncle Jeremy."
4. T - Um. Yep. Its true.
5. T - Same with this one. It was a good week, what can I say?
6. T - It was a five and five ones. Really crisp. I'm a Nielsen person. I'm not too sure on the specifics yet, but I'll let you know after I take this online survey. I already spent the 10 bones on last night's lunch. Or whatever you want to call what I eat at 2 in the morning. I call it lunch.
7. F - I bet you thought, he's a nerd and stuff, but he wouldn't have a Countdown to BSG dry erase board, let me assure you, gentle reader, there is a Countdown to BSG board in the domicile. Also, I have NEVER updated it. I don't like math. (And Prof, its an hourly countdown til the next new show.)
8. T - I did. It's true.
9. F - I went kayaking, not canoeing. No, I'm too lazy to have done either.
10. T - There is seldom a day that goes by that I haven't danced in my underwear.

True or False?

You make the call.

In the past week:

I went to the gym three times.
My father referred to the Men's Chorus as, "Your little glee club."
I sent my nieces presents.
I kissed a guy in one of my favorite places in the city.
I leveled 3 of my 5 WoW characters.
I recieved $10 cash in the mail.
I updated the "Countdown to BSG" dry-erase board at least twice.
I went bowling.
I went canoeing.
I danced in my underwear.

Passions

I know someone who watches this show. From the clips below, I think I might enjoy it, too.
(I like to run them simultaneously.)

Also, mark your calendars:
Charo at the Skagit Valley Casino - April 5th
Fucking Charo, y'all!!!

Working, backwards

Sunday - Did a whole bunch of nothing, which included, a single load of laundry and WoW.

Saturday - Saw "Marie Antionette" with Bill and Andrew.

Thoughts on the film -

Sofia Coppola can make 2 hours feel like 3.

Pink really is pretty.

I liked how completely disconnected from the world the film made her seem.

Did a single load of laundry. Played some WoW.

Friday - Saw MSTRKRFT play at Chop Suey. Only a couple of the usual suspects were around--well, some is better than none.

Thoughts on the show -

These guys know how to stack a set--the bass kept getting thicker and thicker.

Who knew that Seattle can party?

Perhaps all it takes to make a party go off is chicks dressed in black spandex pants and halter with matching gold lame hat and shoes--I'm not lyin'!

Saw Jamie Cullum at The Paramount with my chorus buddy. I had never heard of nor heard anything by Jamie Cullum before.

Thoughts on the show -

Having no/very low expectations is a good way to see a performer about whom you know nothing.

Does everyone in the world cover "Love Will Tear Us Apart?"

At times, especially when singing standards, he sounds like Harry Connick, Jr.

The visuals were pretty.

Thursday - Went on a date. I'm not going to tell you anything about it. Like, I won't say that we've already got another date planned. I would never mention that Steve2 thinks he looks like a taller, skinnier me. I'm not going to tell you that I think he's kinda awesome (and bearded!). I'm not going to tell you any of that, not because I have a modicum of decency (because you all know I don't) but because chances are, he's reading this.

I will tell you that the date was better than this one or this one.

Support a 'stache

Listen up!

You need to donate money to a good cause--Seattle's 826 school.

If you're not familiar with 826, then you must be an uneducated, under-read lout, and I suggest you get yourself a subscription to McSweeney's post-haste.

Anyway, my good buddy Keith is offering his upper lip in a fundraising effort for the organization. Read more about it here. And check out the muy sexy picture, with one eye half-closed. HOT!

So if you've got $20 to spare, know its going to a good organization that offers a lot of great programs. Seattlites especially should consider, at the very least, a $20 donation.

Let's pretend that nothing is awful

I've never seen my favorite musical. It has played out in my mind's eye a hundred times, and if I were given the chance to turn it into a film, I don't think there's one shot I haven't already gone over in my head. When I need to cry but just can't muster the tears, I'll put in the soundtrack. If no one's around, I'll sing along with Marvin and Trina and Jason and Wizzer and Mendel and Dr. Charlotte and Cordelia.
Written and composed by William Finn, Falsettoland is the final installment of the Marvin trilogy. I've only heard a couple songs from the first musical--In Trousers. Falsettoland, luckily, is packaged with March of the Falsettos (the second in the series). While March of the Falsettos is good, like many second installments, it doesn't have the conclusion that only Falsettoland can provide.
The story, basically, is that Marvin and his ex-wife have to plan for their son's bar mitzvah. Marvin reconnects with his lover, Wizzer, only to find out that Wizzer has AIDS. The musical takes place in 1981 when AIDS was being called gay cancer. This is not musical as spectacle, like so many musicals tend to be these days.
This musical informed so much of my understanding about gay relationships, and the impact of AIDS on our community. Of course, I was closer to the son's age than Marvin's, but I could still see the truths that the play revealed.

Below are a couple clips. The first is from the 1992 Tony Awards.


The second is from the original production with the original cast. It takes place toward the end of the show. It is one of the standout numbers. The two queer couples sing of their love. The part that always chokes me up in this song is this:
Cordelia - We don't know what time will bring
Wizzer - I've a clue
Marvin - I have, too
Cordelia and Dr. Charlotte - Let's act like we haven't
And then they sing about the sky and such. The implication, of course, is that Wizzer and Marvin will both soon die from AIDS, but like friends sometimes do, they pretend that nothing is awful. It is intimate moments like this that one of those spectacle musicals couldn't pull off convincingly.
My only issue with this clip is the business that the director has Marvin and Wizzer doing--I mean, playing cards? It feels a little forced.
Anyway, here you go:



So, if some local college or theater puts this show on, make it a point to go see it. I'm sure tickets will be cheaper than Wicked.

Overheard

Bachelor #1 - "Go back and pause that. What was that explosion?"
Bachelor #2 - "It looked like a base star."
Bachelor #3 - "Yeah, it had that triangle thing."


Bachelor #2 - "YES!"
Bachelor #1 - "What?"
Bachelor #3 - "Aw yes! I love this one. Is it Jason takes Manhattan?"
Bachelor #2 - "You know it."
Bachelor #1 - "Nothing will top Leprechaun in space."
Bachelor #3 - "Isn't that Leprechaun 4?"
Bachelor #2 - "Yes, it is."

End of an era?

First of all, I've gotta give a BIG SHOUTOUT to my bestest friend in the entire multiverse--one Ms. Janice Headley-Baehr who turns 29 years young today (wink, wink). The first 2 decades were a cakewalk--get ready for the toughest of them all. I'll be right up the street if you need a shoulder to cry on.

And in completely unrelated news . . .

Apparently, the Re-Bar is for sale.

I've spent many a happy night there. Home to lots of things like Hedwig, Lesbian Hip-Hop Night, Seattle's only monthly techno night, Krakt, and, of course, my beloved Flammable.

I know that a bunch of the bartenders bought the place from the previous owner, and I thought for sure they would have a much longer run. I know my last visit there was kinda lame, but I've had more good times there than mediocre or bad times. I've heard some great sets spun by great DJs.

I can only hope that any new owners will keep the Sunday night thing.

Speaking of music -

I know I said I'd only post mixes that I make from Acid from now on, but Acid is on my home computer and it is a pirated copy (shh! don't tell anyone!). So, at work I've got the other program--the one to which I own the registration key--so that's what you get.

I made this mix at work, listening thru my headphones. It seemed a little subdued, truthfully. Then I got home and listened to it on my stereo and I realized just how bangin' it is. I've taken it to the gym twice and it works really well for my cardio. I've been trying to up my time on the elliptical to an hour and this mix peaks at just the right point.

People have asked that I write a little more about my track selection (since, really, that's all I've got goin' for me). So I'll include a line or two.

For your listening (and hopefully dancing around your living room) pleasure:

OKDJ vol. 8

Neds (Vakant) - Alex Smoke -- Alex played a great set at Decibel, so I thought I'd give him some love (like he needs it).

Rancho Relaxo - Anja Schneider, Sebo K -- Umm, cuz the name of the track is Rancho Relaxo, duh!

Camino del Sol (Joakim remix) - Antena -- You know I like me some Joakim.

Lonely by Your Side (Booka Shade remix) -- Azzido da Bass -- Booka Shade, 'nuf said.

Overrun - Henrik B

Gutterballs - Jacob London -- I like the Chi-town sensibilities from this Seattle-based duo.

If You Give Me - John Dahlbeck -- This track is everywhere, so I had to follow the trend.

Monster Hospital (MSTRKRFT remix) - Metrics -- MSTRKRFT is gonna be here soon (10/20 @ Chop Suey).

The Pact - Silicone Soul -- Soma recordings puts out qulaity.

Pass this On (Dahlbeck and Dahlbeck remix) - The Knife -- John and Jesper reworking a great track.

Take a Chance - Mr. Flagio -- Everyone loves Italo. I think just about every electro DJ out there has caned this track.

What Else is There? (Vitalic remix) -- Yes, I probably shouldn't have used another track with Karin (from The Knife), but I love Vitalic.

Always Something Better - Trentemoller -- Haven't heard the new album, but everything I have heard from him is amazing. This one is no exception. (If you have the album, send my way, m'kay?)

Enjoy!

(Image from Endquote's flickr acct.)

For a certain someone

You know who you are:

[via Habitat67]

BBBBBB, (Part the 2nd)

What do you mean its not Wednesday?
It sure feels like Wednesday. Oh, who am I kidding? The only way I am able to keep track of days is by making little hash marks on my desk down here in the vault.
And they could totally be wrong because I think the Cylons are adding extra ones.
Anyhoo . . .

Before I continue with the story of my wonderful vacation, I would like to make some quick corrections to the previous post.

First of all, Neil, and not Keith is the mastermind behind Wolfgang. You can listen to Wolfgang tracks on his Myspace page, here. Now go buy a Wolfgang CD.

Secondly, GayProf did not begin conversation with stories of his ex. In fact, I'd say we made it a good 3 hours before I finally . . . er, um . . . probed him (hee hee) about the sitch. After that, though, it was like the floodgates had opened!!! (You know I'm teasing, right?)

Ok, so back to Brooklyn . . .

After the Bulldog fiasco, Tennille and I hit up Pioneer Bar-B-Q in Red Hook. There was someone special she wanted me to meet . . . Lisa, the psychic, who doubles as a waitress.
After bringing us a pitcher, Lisa came back to the table with her magic cards in hand.
She told me about a disconnect with my mother. (I was adopted, spooookky). She told me that I need to be around water--funny that, because I enjoy bathing. Then she told me that I need to be more focused on the business side of my career--hmmm, does that mean no more Tetris-challenge with co-workers when business is slow? Or does that mean no more making mixes between processing images?
Let's get to the good stuff, already.
In my future is a musical or artistic, rugged ginger. He likes to kayak or something. That'll be perfect because I love waving at people in kayaks from the shore. She also said I may end up in Vancouver. Awesome. Canada rules. You can smoke the weed. Marry a dude who is also a prostitute, and you both have health care. Rock.
If I were to move to Canada, maybe I could work on BSG. That would rule my balls.

After the Pioneer Bar, Nilla took me to Mini Bar. Its located a mere block from her pad and is aptly named. Not only is the place tiny, but it is also frequented by little people. Or dwarves. Or midgets. After GayProf nailed me on the "Skinny Black Bitch" thing, I've been a bit recalcitrant in my assigning of labels to people . . . or drinks.

The bartender had an adorable Jew-fro and liked BSG. Of course, I was smitten. And I swear he was flirting with me. And I know I was flirting with him. Ah, well.

Then it was back to Tennille's pad and a restful, drunken sleep. I awoke the next morning and took the train to the edge of Brooklyn. I walked across the Brooklyn bridge for the first time in my life. I'm glad that it was headed toward Manhattan.
This was my first time to New York since 9/11. The skyline, surprisingly, didn't look more empty to me. I guess if the towers were something that I saw every day, then it would have looked suspiciously barren, but Manhattan holds my attention like no other place. It still vibrates and climbs, and by the time I had crossed the bridge, it had surrounded me.

I had no plans to go anywhere. There was nothing I really wanted to see (although the big mirror in Rockefeller Center sounded interesting), so I just wandered from park to park.
Columbus Park to Tompkins Square Park to Stuyvesant Square to Union Square to Gramercy Park to Chelsea Park to Bryant Square Park--and Washington Square Park was in there somewhere, too.

I liked having my music with me and turning it on and just watching people. Lawyers on a break. Old men playing bocce. A girl reading. Derelict digging through the trash. Gay dudes holding hands. It was a wonderful end-of-summer day and I don't think I could have spent it any better. [Note to gay dudes: Aviators are *so* over. Do you really want to look 10-15 years older than you are?]

It still only took me part of the day. I had some time to kill and my buzz was wearing off. To find a bar . . .
There was one little place that looked a bit too nice--awning, outdoor seating, sandwich board with specials. I had resigned myself to grabbing a beer there. Before entering, I looked across the street and spotted a small door. Few windows. A rainbow sticker. A bear sticker. A leather sticker. I headed across the street.

The 9th Avenue Saloon is Hell's Kitchen's very own leather bar. Every other Saturday is boot day. I'm sure the joint gets jumping on those days. At 3 in the afternoon on a Monday, myself and one other man were the only patrons. Joe, the bartender, was a fifty-something latino with a gravelly New Jersey accent. He pours a mean beer.
The other patron, a shaved bald white guy in his forties thumbed through a leather catalog. Both were friendly but not overly conversational. They asked when the first time I had been to NYC was. I had to think--1983, I guess. Hell's Kitchen would have been far off limits. Hell, back then, my mother held onto me like we were on an amusement park ride--and that was in the relative safety of Times Square. Well, '83 was about 11 years pre-Giuliani and the Disney-fication of the touristy area, so I can forgive my mother her overprotective ways in this instance.
Anyway, Steve, the bald 40-something bummed a smoke from me. He put his hand on my shoulder, gave it a squeeze and winked. I'm not into the whole daddy thing, but my mind instantly went to a naughty place. (And my naughty place perked up a little.) When he came back in, he sat next to me and showed me the leather pieces he owned. He was a Bensonhurst boy and Brooklyn was stuck on him. A USMC tattoo graced his forearm, and I found myself wanting another little squeeze.
Tennille stopped in and said hey on a break from work and I think she was pretty amused that I had found a leather bar so close to her work. She joked about getting me a bear flag for my house. I wonder what the roomies would think of that . . .
She went back to work and I ordered another. After a few sips, I headed to the bathroom. Steve was right behind. Thank god, I thought, I'll finally get some action.
"So, uh, you want some crystal or crack or weed?"
The stirrings in my loins turned to queasy in my stomach. "Uh, nah, that's cool. I've got a bunch of really crazy drugs back home."
He laughed. I laughed. I left.

Tennille and I then headed back to Brooklyn and the best veal scallopine I've ever had. We were joined by the ever-pleasant Keith. Then it was back to Mini Bar and the bartender. Wish I could've gotten a grope in, but alas, I was not hammered enough. Even after a whole day of drinking.

Up the next morning and off to . . .

The beautiful state of Texas and my wonderful parents.

If you don't remember my last trip to Texas, I direct you here. It was miserably hot. I think 95 the first two days. Anyway . . .

I feel pretty much the same way about the place that I did that time. My dad was determined to take me to Steak and Ale, and I couldn't figure out why. Then, the pieces came together. If you say its a "Special Occasion" when placing reservations, you get free dessert. Also, they had a coupon. I love that they think of that place as classy. My mom wouldn't let my dad wear shorts.

Mom and dad made sure to point out all the new housing developments--like I couldn't see them myself. I know, I'm an urban person and stuff, but all that sprawl makes me a little nauseous. It just seems to wasteful. And everyone drives. And there is no/very limited mass transit. Don't these people care about the environment or our future?
I know I take Seattle for granted sometimes--especially on some of its green policies. [All new construction of city property over a certain number of square feet has to be at least 60% self-sustaining. All of our schools are being retro-fitted to be more energy efficient (ok, so really, they're just closing schools, but that's energy efficient, right?).]
My parents don't even recycle. I can't believe that they aren't fined for that.
What am I saying? Of course I can believe that. They are in Bush country and consumerism is the watch-word. Who else is going to buy gas?

So, yeah.
Adam and Jeff came to rescue on Wednesday. I drove to Dallas to meet Adam for dinner. We went to Mia's for some killer TexMex. I had a delectable briscuit taco and a swirl margarita. I'm still not sure what the swirl was, exactly, but it was a great drink.
Adam was just how I imagined he would be--funny, intelligent. He could throw zingers right back at me and laughed at all the right places. I had only occasionally read Jeff's blog in the past, so I didn't really know what to expect. He was equally as charming. Conversation ranged from Sondheim to politics to which-dude-on-the-dancefloor-would-you-do. Seeing that I have no standards, any of the dudes on the dancefloor would have been fine with me. Even the robot. Even the really old one. Even the chick. After we parted ways, I put some pieces of the conversation back together in my head and figured out that Adam's partner graduated high school with my college roommate. Isn't that totally trippy?

So then it was back to Fort Worth and the final day with my parents. Then back home. Every time I return to Seattle, I get a greater sense that this place is home. While I can imagine myself living in New York or Boston, I think I would miss the scenery here. (Even though it takes someone like Earl to get me out to see it.)

Before I sign off, I just wanted to say that it was really great getting to see each of you. Prof, I won't be able to think Boston without thinking of you as my (sometimes lost) tour guide. Nilla, sorry its taken me so long to visit you, but better late than never, huh? You're a great hostess and I had such a blast! Brooklyn rules! Adam and Jeff, its always great to meet people who are as dynamic and funny as both of you. Thanks for putting up with my cigarette smoke and providing me with much needed sanity in the insane environment that is Texas.

[If you couldn't tell by my blogging irregularities, life has been fairly hectic since my return. Re-adjusting to the nighttime schedule, trying to fit in all my shows (BSG, Veronica Mars, The Office, ProjRun, ANTM, Gilmore Girls), choir practice, and just catching up with my friends again has eaten up most of my time. I'll try to be more fastidious in my posting--plus I got a rant a-brewin'--oh and a new mix.]

Apologies

I'm not dead--but I do feel like a zombie again.
12 hour day yesterday, 15 today.
I'll finish the post on Wednesday.

In the meantime, Jenny Wilson keeps getting better and better:



Of course, she's accompanied by Robyn, whom I've only enjoyed as remixed by Jesper Dahlback (and smack-dab in the middle of one of Rich's best mixes). Its a cover of a Saul Williams song.

Boston, Bars, Brooklyn, Bulldogs, Beards, Boys (Part 1)

I know you've all been waiting with bated breath. You can finally exhale like Whitney Houston.

I've been back in town for less than 24 hours. My vacation continues, but reality is slowly setting in. I have a couple loads of laundry to do. I have to start napping during the day to get back into nightwalker (or is that streetwalker?) mode.

I just saw Junior Boys with Janice at KEXP. They played a 3-song set. You can listen to it here. You'll have to select today's date (the 29th) and enter the time as 11:15AM. If they had mic'ed the booth, you could hear me giggling like a little girl.
I got to briefly talk to Jeremy (the one in the middle). I told him how much I liked the Morgan Geist track that was released earlier this summer. I'm a total fanboy. There were three adorable girls standing around talking to them, and I was the one who had my picture taken with them. I'm pretty sure they were like, "Dude, who's this homo who wants his picture taken with us?"
Anyway, Jeremy told me that he recorded four tracks with Geist and the others will be released at a later date. He also said that he liked the other tracks more than he liked the first release. So that's pretty rad. They gave us T-shirts and put us on the guestlist. So. Damn. Nice.
So I get to take Matt.
How rad can you get?

Thanks so much for taking me to the studio, Ms. Janice. The only thing cooler than Junior Boys is you!

So tonight my vacation will end with me seeing the Junior Boys.

But, really, you didn't come all the way down to this vault to read about music. You want the dish. How many times did I get laid? (Once, a bulldog in Brooklyn.) How intoxicated was I? (I was so intoxicated . . . ) How many bloggers did you meet? (Five.) Are GayProf and Adam as rockingly cool as they seem? (Obviously.) Where did you hide the bodies? (The Children's Museum, the Hudson, the very first Black Eyed Pea.)

I start with the Junior Boys because, besides the condoms, lube, and chapstick, I also brought the new Junior Boys and Arling & Cameron. Both discs got a lot of play and were the perfect counterpoints to a vacation's tendency to bring contradictory feelings like isolation and excitement, anonymity and hope. Or some other such bullshit.

Sometimes, vacations need soundtracks.

My flight left at 10:30 PST and arrived around 7:00 EST. Check-in at the hotel was 3:00. Still, I wanted to drop my bags off, so I took the blue line from Logan International, got off at the Bowdoin stop. I noticed a lot of people got off at State and deduced that that was a transfer point.
So I dropped my bags off, and the lovely, pert young lady told me that the hotel wasn't at capacity so I could come back in a couple hours to check-in. Excellent.
I walked to Boston Common and the Public Garden. The sketchy people in the Common seemed pretty tame. Their crack deals had a sense of innocence--not that I bought any crack. From them.
Tourists like me stood out. Dressed too casually--even by casual Friday standards. I walked through the theater district. Through Chinatown. Got on the Orange Line. Got off at State switched to the Blue. Learned later that I could have just stayed on the Orange.

I don't use maps. I am also used to cities like New York and Seattle which have the simplistic grid system--even if they don't use numbers, streets generally run perpendicular to one another. Apparently, Boston has too much history to not have been planned well. The streets were fun, though. They were a lot broader than I expected, which made tall buildings less oppressive. People were congenial yet staid (oh, and the accent is kinda sweet).
I found my way back to the hotel and napped.
The free wine was scheduled from 5-6 and meeting GayProf was scheduled for 7. Both appointments were met in a timely fashion. The first yielded 3 glasses of syrah. The second, well, the second . . .

If you're going to Boston, make it a point to meet GayProf. He not only took time out of his busy social schedule on Friday, but also on Saturday. And, really, if you're in a city for the first time, there is no one better than a queer historian to walk around and chat with. Be warned, though, he can turn that gravitas on at a moment's notice.
I got the lowdown on his liar ex (who told many lies). I told him about my trials and tribulations in love (and my ability to convert straight guys even if only for a night). We had a lovely dinner at a Thai place the first evening and went to Fritz after. Sure, we made a wrong turn or two on the way there, but Boston is pretty compact and the weather was nice, so it was no big whoop.

The following day was rainy, and I had planned on walking the Freedom Trail. I got to the trailhead (which is really just a tourist information center in the Common), but opted out because I didn't want to get waterlogged. Instead, I found a cafe on the edge of Chinatown. I grabbed a seat, a sandwich and a latte and finished off one of the books I brought. Then it was back to the hotel for an afternoon nap (Lay off! I was on vacation!) and met GayProf for wine hour at the hotel.

He took me out to Somerville for amazing Indian food. I love samosas. I love vindaloo. Both at this place were stellar! The vindaloo made me break a sweat. That's always a good sign. Then it was onto the Ramrod which was totally dead. Sure, it was early, but it was still pretty dead. No hot sex in the back room. Boo!

Then it was back to the hotel for my final night's stay. The next day I took the Chinatown bus that everyone had warned me about. It was totally fine. Air conditioned, half empty, and relatively fast.

Tennille met me in New York's Chinatown around 4PM on Sunday. We cabbed back to Brooklyn and went to a bodega to buy some stuff to grill. The Moonshine in Brooklyn allows its patrons to bring their own food to grill. Its a great idea for a bar--two large gas grills out back, but little did we know that every third Sunday is bulldog Sunday. I used to think of bulldogs as sweet and funny looking--that was until I saw them en masse. Slobber everywhere and a youngster that humped anything even remotely humpable. Oh, and did I mention the poop? Tennille's friends Neil and Keith met us there and I believe they were equally as perturbed by the bulldogs.
Neil and Keith are also musicians. I forget what their band name is together, but Keith by himself is Wolfgang. You should buy his CD single Not In Love (Not True). It is great vocoder pop with nice bass. In other words, its music I like.

Holy crap. This post is getting hella long. I'm going to stop here. More soon, I promise--

Like other bloggers who were met during the trip and the lovely state of Texas . . .

Oh and Prof, is this color font better?

2 weeks without you and I still haven't gotten over you yet

I'm out.

Catch you on the flipside.

Its time for a mancation.

Got my DS, a couple books, a nice hotel, friends I'll be meeting for the first time, a friend I've known for years, and all this stuff is great but even greater is no work for 11 days.

Might blog while I'm out, might not. I'm really not scheduling anything.

See ya soon.

Ask the 8 ball

This is lifted from Janice -

Basically, you use iTunes on shuffle to answer the following questions:

1. How are you feeling today?
Back in My Arms Again - The Supremes

2. Will you get far in life?
Days Like This - from Falsettoland (Original Off-Broadway Cast)

3. What do your friends see you as?
What Else is There? (Jacques Lu Cont Radio Mix) - Royksopp

4. What is your best friend's theme song?
My Friend Dario - Vitalic

5. What is the story of your life?
I am You - Nightmares on Wax

6. What was high school like?
Cardiology (Isolee mix) - Recloose

7. How can you get ahead in life?
Something Bad is Happening (Reprise) - Falsettoland (Original Off-Broadway Cast)

8. What is the best thing about your friends?
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man after Midnight) - ABBA

9. What is in store for this weekend?
Monday Paracetamol - Ulrich Schnauss

10. What song describes you?
Carnage, Ok! - Sergej Auto

11. To describe your grandparents?
New Friend - The Concretes

12. How is your life going?
Morning Disaster - L'Altra

13. What song will they play at your funeral?
What else is there? (Trentemoller Remix) - Royksopp

14. How does the world see you?
It Ain't Easy - Jazmina

15. Will you have a happy life?
Get Me Away from here I'm Dyin' - Belle & Sebastian

16. What do your friends really think about you?
Nobody Knows - Zoot Woman

17. Do people secretly lust after you?
My Son Mystic - Gay Dad

18. How can I make myself happy?
As Four - The Concretes

19. What should you do with your life?
Midnight Sun - Ivy

Um. I can't make sense of most of them, but the answers to 10, 12, 13 and 15 made me chuckle.

Weekend perfection

Ok. So.
Yeah.
This weekend pretty much ruled.
First, on Friday, I met up with fellow blogger Earl and his beau Bucko for margaritas and nachos. Earl is the first blogger--outside of the Seattlest crew and personal friends--whom I have met in real life. What a complete joy! They're both laid back and funny and they live a mere stone's throw from my pad so hopefully we'll get a chance for future drunken escapades. As it stands now, I'll be joining them for a hike on Oct. 8th. And I promise pictures from the excusion.

Friday night brought the first round of Decibel Festival goodness. Matt and I camped at Neumo's forgoing hometown heroes Jacob London for the killer line-up of Telefon Tel Aviv, Apparat, and Alex Smoke. Telefon Tel Aviv played a solid set to an enthusiastic crowd. Their music is song-oriented so it really played to the Seattle crowd's general aversion to dancing. Maybe I misjudged, though. Maybe its not an aversion to dancing, rather a predilection for clapping.
So they exited the stage (and then began clearing empty bottles and cups!!), and Apparat came on. He pretty much shredded. The bass was thick--sometimes you could feel it before you heard it. He had the room rockin' and we all had a lovely time.
Next up was Alex Smoke. He brought a bit more of the funk in with him, but still rode the tech-tip. Matt and I danced and danced, and then decided we should go. (There was still a whole 'nother night of dancing ahead.)

So, we left Neumo's and hailed a cab. In the passenger seat sat a dreadlocked black man who spoke a bit like Daffy Duck. He and the cabbie were friends, apparently, and he just rides around with him. They questioned Matt and me about where we had been. We told them and the passenger seemed to know more about the festival than your average joe. That's when it hit me.
"You sound like Riz," I said.
"That's because I am Riz," said the passenger.
He had just finished his usual Friday gig at the Re-Bar and now he was just tooling around in the cab. Strange--but a nice ending to the evening.

Saturday afternoon was spent in rest mode. I was in and out of sleep the entire day. Saturday evening I met up with Bill to see Little Miss Sunshine which I enjoyed, but not as much as I'd hoped I would. Matt met up with us after the movie and the three of us went back to Neumo's for Jerry Abstract, [A]pendics Shuffle, and Green Velvet. [A]pendics Shuffel was great, but Velvet rocked the party. He played a good 8 minutes of Plastikman's Spastik with a great vocal laid on top. There was a slew of other hits, and like my friend Erik said, "If you're going to hear someone play the hits, I can't think of anyone better than Curtis." Hear, hear!

I didn't take any pictures because the event was being well-chronicled. I think everyone was snapping pictures with their phones or cameras, or recording video. (It was actually a little ridiculous.) Here's a link to a photoset. Oh, and here's a link to the festival's blog.

So, that was my weekend.

What did you do?

I was the one worth leaving

Long weekend ahead with the Decibel. I hope my ears bleed from songs like this one (although this on probably won't get played).

Some days need poems

Passing Stranger - W. Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Lady love

So this weekend was OKDJ's first gig playing out. My trusty Sony laptop decided to not be so trusty and the screen on it decided to go kaput a few days prior. No big deal, I reasoned, there are still two more laptops. Unfortunately, neither had a cache of songs as deep as the Sony. So I spent Friday and Saturday morning frantically trying to find/buy tracks for the big commitment ceremony.
One of the brides requested that I have "Happy Together" by the Turtles. Check. As well as three covers of that same song. I was also requested to have something by Diana Ross and the Supremes. Check. Besides that, the list was up to me.
My selection ran the gamut--from Billie Holliday and Louis Armstrong singing Berlin's classic, "Cheek to Cheek" to Grandmaster Flash and Melle Mel's "White Lines." I had just over four hours of music--but for some reason, only a fraction was played. Ah well. I tried my (almost) best.

So, onto the wedding.

Lynnie has been like a surrogate mother to me since moving to Seattle. [Hi Lynnie!!] Her daughter, Risa, and I were roommates in college. Since those days of traversing mountain passes to spend Thanksgiving in Seattle, Lynnie has always made sure I'm included in family functions--from Easters to birthdays, she has always made me feel welcome and a part of the family.
Lynnie herself was in a period of transition during much of the time I've known her. She was in the process of getting a divorce, and she was beginning to come to terms with her sexuality. Her first gay relationship, from my point of view, was unstable and demanded concessions that would strain any relationship. Still, I admired her chutzpah for living her life the way she saw fit.
I don't know how Lynnie met Joyce, but, as anyone who was at the wedding can attest, Joyce is the yin to Lynnie's yang. They complement each other well, and they are a testament to the fullness and scope of love.

I arrived to their house surprisingly on-time. The backyard was awash with lesbians. One of them was my landlady to whom I (re)introduced myself. She then told me that I could disregard the late-fee she had just mailed to our place (damn holiday!) which made me very happy. Both brides were convivial and well-dressed. I don't think I've ever seen Lynnie dressed in anything quite so feminine.
I tried to make small talk with some of the womenfolk and then distracted myself with setting up the music.
Shortly thereafter, Risa, her fiance Keith (who is a frequent commenter on this here blog), and her younger sister Nikki arrived--there were finally people with whom I felt comfortable conversing. We got a briefing about our champagne pouring responsibilities and the ceremony was soon underway.
Officiated by Rachel, Lynnie's eldest daughter, and Joyce's business partner, the ceremony was simple and sweet. They included the Jewish tradition of a ketubah. Joyce and Lynnie exchanged vows which sent Nikki into the first of many sobbing fits.
I couldn't help but chuckle occasionally during the ceremony--Lynnie and Joyce live frightfully close to a shooting range and the sounds of people shooting their rifles and handguns often overpowered the voices of the celebrants. At the end, after the smashing of the symbolic wine glass, it was toast time.
I sure am glad that the Jews were well-represented. Two rabbis--count 'em, two--were present. Lynnie's brother, one of the two, arose and gave the first toast. He talked about the symbolism of the shattered wine glass--that even in times of joy, there is still pain and suffering and nothing can be truly perfect. Jesus bless the Jews. Its that sort of thinking that makes me think I might have some Heb flowing through my veins. Lechaim! All those Jews made me feel like I was hanging out with a bunch of rich Greeks.
Other's toasted but it was more based in the gentile tradition of, "Ohh, you two. Ohhh, love. Awww, so sweet."

When the ceremony was over, I started through the playlist. Unfortunately, I culled too broad a spectrum. Billie Holliday, The Supremes, The Ronettes, The Crystals, Laura Nyro, Labelle, Gladys Knight, Anne Murray, Barbra Streisand, Air Supply, Chicago, Atlantic Starr, Melissa Manchester, Debby Boone, and Leslie Gore were all summarily dismissed.
Instead, we ended up listening to the same 10 or so songs over and over. Mainly, "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang, "Sir Duke" by Stevie Wonder, "September" by Earth, Wind, and Fire, "Hey Ya!" by Outkast, and once the lesbos wrested me away from the decks, it was non-stop "Hung Up" by Madonna, "Gloria" and "Self Control" by Laura Branigan, "Invincible" by Pat Benatar, and "The Warrior" by Scandal. Yeah.
So one of the more, um, shall we say, rural of the lesbians, asked me if I had "Hotel California" by the Eagles. Nope. Sorry. Then her friend approached me and asked if I had any techno. God, you don't know how much I would have loved to rock the party with something like this, but something tells me that's not what she envisioned when she said techno. I, also, didn't have anything too dance-y on the hard drive. Ah well.

So I think the whole thing went really well. The best part of the night probably came when Risa and I began talking about her wedding in February. She and Keith want me to officiate--so I get ultilize my ordination. I am unbelievably honored and humbled that they want me to be in charge of such a large portion of their day. February is only five months away and something tells me that there will have to be quite a few planning days.
I'll let you in on more as the day approaches--at this point, I know that I'll be singing at least one song, and performing the actual marriage.

So all this marriage stuff got me to thinking--I haven't been in any sort of relationship for nearly three years (and that last one I only count so I don't have to say that I've been single for over six years). Being single, suits me, though. While I do feel the pressure from the heteronormative world to be in a relationship, I think I like myself better as a single person. Of course, I have no real basis for comparison. I do like the idea of two people with similar values and goals who have analagous sexual desire for one another joining forces like a superhero team and trying their best to live in a world that reflects their values and in which they can achieve their goals. All that sounds cool, or whatever.
I think a lot of my aversion to more actively seeking dates has to do with the fact that I view myself as a work in progress. Certainly, we all have aspects of our lives that need work, but I generally careen a bit more than your average joe. The highs and lows from a reckless youth (and slightly beyond the "youth" category) are still in the process of finding a median, and, until I find that balance in myself, I certainly wouldn't want to subject a perspective beau to those wild fluctuations--its bad enough that my friends have to deal with them.

Speaking of my misspent youth, Friday marked the end of a five year probation.
Driving under the influence cost me around $17,000 and five years of my life. The upside is that it is not on my record. Better news, I can apply for a passport again.

So, yeah, I guess that's all I have to say. Don't drink and drive.

Oh, and Sean should have the latest Listening Party up sometime today.

One chants out between two worlds

My boy recieved the Golden Lion award for Lifetime achievement yesterday at the Venice Film Festival. He is the award's youngest recipient ever. Tonight
INLAND EMPIRE also got its world premiere. US release date is still up in the air, but it will definitely be in the New York Film Festival on Sept. 29th. I'm hoping that after all this festival biz, it gets an end of the year release, but most likely you can expect it in February.
Here's some of the early word on Lynch's newest:
Variety
Guardian

Also, Yahoo! has a bit about the press conference, but if you're a total freak like me, then you've already listened to the press conference found on this page.

Sunshine on my shoulder

Well, Tommie Sunshine did make it to Seattle and what a crappy turnout. It is nights like these that I feel the need to apologize. Sorry that Seattlites can't or won't show up for a world-class DJ/producer who is playing for free. It was just pathetic. That, however, did not stop me from dancing the night away.
Tommie didn't let that prevent him from throwing the smack-down, though. There were a series of tracks with 16th note bass-lines which gave an appregiated feel, and simultaneously made me feel like I was running a marathon. I love when old sounds begin to sound new again and to say that Tommie is on the cutting edge, would be a bit of an understatement. Needless to say, the few souls who did show seemed to have a good time, right Bill?

Onto Sunday. I was determined to go out to Flammable mainly because I knew it would be a long time before shaking it again. I am glad I went because it was a holiday weekend and some people I hadn't seen in a long time were there (hi Gigi, Erik, Matt, Dominique, Paul, David, and Jared!), but most of the crowd were just dumb ol' homos. They made both myself and Dom stabby--I think Paul, David and Jared bailed early. And the music pretty much sucked, and there was so much sketch there. I mean, a dude was passed out in front of the place at 10pm--that should have been an indicator. Flammable did live up to its name and everyone there was a hot, sweaty, sloppy mess. I got a few good shakes in, then called it a night.

And now, something completely different . . .

Why my tuna fish sandwich is better than yours:

wasabi
shiso
julienned cucumbers
(other than that, its just like yours--unless you use tuna in oil or something other than albacore)

Back to zombie-land . . .

. . . and my two closest friends:



Well, the few days off were nice.

I've got Sunshine on a cloudy day

It has been forever since I've gone out--April 20th to be exact. That was for the always adorable Matthew Dear show at Chop Sweaty which Matt (roomie) and I thoroughly enjoyed (we closed the mofo out). There might have been shows that I let slip through the cracks, but there hasn't been anything that has compelled me to call in late/sick to work.
My schedule (as is well-chronicled) precludes me from spending mediocre nights on the dancefloor. I'm cool with that--perhaps I'm a little fatter because I don't dance as much, but my wallet is also little fatter.
This weekend marks my triumphant return to the discotheque. I get to bust out all the moves I've been practicing in front of the bathroom mirror, and who better than Tommie Sunshine for my reinauguration?
I've never had the pleasure of hearing Mr. Sunshine play out, but I am very, very familiar with his body of work. He's remixed everyone, and he's played the world over. Best of all? Its free.
If y'all didn't know, free is like my all time favorite word. I once skipped a midterm for a free breakfast. Oh, and I love free basing.
Rich, over at fourfour, has a mix that has his latest release with Marc Romboy, 'Body Jack.' If the beats are like that track, I expect to dance the whole night through.
Sunday, I'll also be going to church, aka the Re-bar. True, the sound being sported at Re-bar isn't really my thing anymore, but the crowd is great, the vibe is good, and sometimes we need nostalgia.

Future shows include:

9/15 - Decibel Festival (Telefon Tel Aviv, Apparat, Alex Smoke) @ Neumo's
9/16 - Decibel Festival (Jerry Abstrakt, Green Velvet) @ Neumo's
9/17 - Decibel Festival (The Dead Texan) @ Broadway Performance Hall
9/29 - Junior Boys @ Neumo's (and in-studio @ KEXP, thnx Janice!!!!)
10/20 - MSTRKRFT @ Chop Suey
11/12 - Brookville / Tahiti 80 @ The Croc

So, few and far between, but that works just fine for me. Hope to see you out at one or two of these shows!

Sunny Sunday soul singers

UPDATE: The Peter Bjorn & John link has been fixed. Its such a good track, please download it and then decide that you need to buy their album. It, for me, is a perfect end of summer track.

As always, all tracks posted are for limited time, please support musicians and all that other shit.

Nice, mellow weekend which is just what was needed before a more regemented schedule takes hold this week.
Sunday morning I went to El Greco for brunch with Kelley and Steve 2. Our waiter was the type of dreamy that wakes you up slightly moist. He had a Space Needle tattoo on the back of his right arm and when questioned about it, he blamed it on the indiscretions of youth. (Insert swoon here.) The food, as usual, was quite good. I was particularly taken with Steve 2's sweet potato fries replete with large crystals of sea salt. It is touches like this--a side dish that acts as a link between breakfast and lunch--that make El Greco a step above the rest for ladies who brunch.

Then we walked through the Capitol Hill Farmer's Market. Kelley bought some blackberries and then we wandered over to Cal Anderson Park. We dipped our feet in the wading pool and watched children play. It was sunny and warm and the perfect way to kill time after a delicious meal. The water feature in the park is really beautiful and its hard to believe that urine-soaked Broadway is a stone's throw away.

After that we headed over to First Hill to the always-interesting Frye Art Museum. Folk artist Henry Darger is the current exhibition. I was pretty underwhelmed with the art itself,--it mimicked (sometimes blatantly) ad campaigns from the time--but Darger's ignorance toward gender was prety fascinating and his output was phenomenal. Darger has a tendency to draw little girls with little penes. He, apparently, was not aware that male and females differed in the genital region. Darger wrote The Vivian Girls which, as the curator is quick to point out, is the precursor for such strong female heroes as Xena, Wonder Woman, and the Sailor Scouts. If you live in Seattle, you should make the trip to the Frye. The Frye is free and if the Darger stuff creeps you out, you can always check out the inocuous Trimpin exhibit.
If you're not in Seattle, but would like to know more about this elusive, reclusive artist, put In the Realms of the Unreal in your Netflix queue.

So, yeah, like I said, it was a pretty mellow weekend. I got lots of sleep. If I were to make a playlist for the weekend, it would probably look something like this:

Song for the Songs - The Concretes
Let My Shoes Lead Me Forward - Jenny Wilson
I Think of You - Ivy
Objects of Affection - Peter Bjorn & John
Different Day - L'Altra

No, its not all over your face

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Aretha Franklin to start my week

My first image today was that of a young Aretha Franklin in a slinky grey dress bathed in a pink spotlight. I'll let that set the tone for the week.

What did I do this weekend?
Well, I leveled all three of my characters on WoW, and I auditioned for the Seattle Men's Chorus.
Oh, so now I have to justify myself to you? Fine.

Reasons why I auditioned for the Men's Chorus -

I like singing
What do I have to lose?
Performing on stage at Benaroya Hall and McCaw Hall would be mass rad
Reason to get out of the house once a week
Free refreshments
Meet dudes
Forcing all of my friends to attend at least one show (yes, I mean you!)

So I think my audition went pretty well. I wasn't properly warmed up and I had a lot of phlegm all lodged up in there, but I sang ok. Turns out the cigarettes have been murder on my range (I used to have a 4 octave range, now I'm barely making 2). He had me sight read which was totally gross and something I haven't done in forever--I haven't even looked at sheet music in quite some time. And it wasn't exactly an easy piece to sight read, dotted quarter notes, naturals, and a 4 note jump which was like groping for a book on the top shelf of a very tall bookcase. I'm almost 99% that I'm in--find out on Tuesday by way of phone call.
Keep your fingers crossed, y'all!

I'm never gonna dance again

I hate only being able to watch half of ProjRun before heading in to work. Once at work, I'll peruse the usual blogs and, inevitably, I will find out who got auf'd. No big whoop. I'm not one of those spoiler queens who insists that knowing how a story ends ruins the actual telling of the story. I don't, however, believe that I can watch poor Allison's dreams become shattered in the final half hour of last night's episode. Add to that the ridiculosity of Benji winning So You Think You Can Dance, and you might just get a whiff of my pungent ire.

Oh, that wasn't my ire that smelled so bad--it was my feet (which have, at times, smelled of broccoli).

Speaking of my feet, my left foot looks like a ham hock. I thought I had Fred Flintstone feet before my mysterious injury, but now I could easy power a prehistoric vehicle to the drive-in (if only there were someone with whom I could park--hell, I'd even settle for an order of ribs that tips the car over). How did I get said injury? I'm guessing a pair of dress socks that were worn all day Saturday that are quite constrictive--but I literally (and I mean literally, not figuratively) have no idea how it happened.

Even though the results of SYTYCD are disappointing (Travis should have totes won), I think that Risa, her sisters, and I are going to attend the September 12th SYTYCD performance at the Paramount. Tickets are priced $37-$50. I say, spend the extra $13 bucks, but we'll see.

So that's on September 12th. Two days later, the third annual Decibel Festival will be underway. The line up is pretty impressive this year. Green Velvet, Telafon Tel Aviv, The Dead Texan, Apparat, Andreas Tilliander, and Alex Smoke, to name a few.
If you're a househead and you're coming to town for this festival, you're more than welcome to crash on our couch. We accept beer, pot, sex, or cleaning as forms of payment.

And since I'm talkin' 'bout music again (funny how that happens), here's the latest:

OKDJ vol. 7

I know I said I wouldn't release another one until I figure out Acid, but I just don't get Acid. I mean, do I have to just work two songs together and save it as a new track then add another song? And why can't I change the tempo?
Plus, I had all this awesome music to share. Oh, and I've been really bored down here in the vault.
So, you get more music! Yippie!

Here's the tracklisting:

Ladyflash (Simian Mobile Disco Mix) - The Go! Team
Toop Toop (Oliver Koletski Mix) - Cassius
SadomasochistUS - Creme de Menthe
Weird Fantasy - B-Series
Cuz of You (Mark Grant Mix) - Green Velvet
The Minimum of Life - Joakim
Wake Up (Justus Kohncke Remix) - Lo-Fi Fnk
Bells feat. Linda Lamb - Vitalic
You Take My Breath Away (Mylo Mix) - The Knife
Shemale (Black Strobe Mix) - Sir Drew
In White Rooms (Elecktrochemie Remix) - Booka Shade
Les Djinns (Trentemoller Remix) - Djuma Soundsystem
Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John

If you'll notice, I reviewed the first track over here. You have been keeping up, right?
And, not to toot my own horn, I think this mix is easily one of my best. Hard to go wrong with Vitalic, Green Velvet, The Knife, Trentemoller, Mylo, Joakim, and Booka Shade, though.

A descent proposal

Matt, Steve 2, and I went to catch "The Descent" yesterday afternoon. I think the general concensus was that it was decent. I mean, it didn't stink, so we didn't have to de-scent it. (Ok, I'm out of puns.)

It had some pretty good ideas and it could have been about fifty times creepier than it was, but still, far, far better than say, Saw, Saw II, The Hills Have Eyes, The Amityville Horror, and most other horror films released in the past 10-or-so years.
I really liked all the vagina related crap--an all-female cast (the only dude gets offed in the first 10 minutes), climbing into a big hole in the ground, all the blood, and other crap. The monsters were pretty ineffective and, overall, the whole thing could have been psychologicaller, y'know?
Things left to the imagination, especially in confined spaces is just cuh-reepy. The sequences of the spelunkers shimmying through tight spaces were way creepier than the battles with "the crawlers."

So I think I got Matt (Steve 2 is only at the "tolerate" phase) hooked on Veronica Mars (yay!), now I've just gotta convice the rest of you.

I think Deputy Leo made it to season two episodes, but even if he didn't, dude is foyne.
Check it:













And, he's in love with me.












And don't you want to be supportive of my (imaginary) relationship? Well, then start watching the show!
Oh, and check out the fashion:

Season 1 is available on DVD now.

Season 2 is released on August 22nd.

Season 3 begins Tuesday, October 3rd at 9PM on the CW (omg, right after Gilmore Girls)!!!

I expect annotated reports detailing your love for the show on my desk in the morning.

Class dismissed.

Work around

I know my shift from daywalker to night monkey has been chronicled fairly well on this here blog, but I feel like further expounding upon the subject.

Technically, I only have one day off a week--Saturday.

I go into work at 11PM on Sunday and I am finished at 7:45AM on Friday (don't think I work straight through, cuz that's just crazy talk).

I spend my entire time at work in a digital dark room. I look at pixels. I listen to music, and, for all intents and purposes, my body and brain still think that they are in some form of sleep.

Most of my dreams are related to cell phones or fame.

Asian girl on cell phone.

Mariah Carey on the red carpet.

Last week began with a sweaty Freddy Mercury and quickly degenerated to civil war in the Sierra Leone. Nightmarish images.

I saw emaciated children burying children who starved to death.

I saw a man dead on the street and I thought it was nice that someone had placed a flower on his head.

When I zoomed in, the flower turned into brain matter. I turned his brain into the flower I saw initially because someone should be nice--even if it is someone who didn't know the man. Even if the man has been dead for years. Even if I had to turn it back into brain after I finished with the picture.

I spend my time away from work trying to sleep. I no longer sleep for long periods of time. Part of this is a blessing--it battles my predisposition for depression induced sleep. Most of it is a curse.

I sleep for four hours. I am awake for two. I try to get a few more naps in before starting the cycle all over again. I do not feel connected to myself in my waking hours. I often feel as though I am watching myself. Bunuel has nothing on the surreal images that are formed when one naps, looks at tons of pictures, and naps some more.

I'm not writing this because I expect some sort of sympathy from you. I'm writing this so you understand why I don't return your phone calls. I'm writing this so you understand why I am frequently not available. Its not you, its me--but you already knew that.

Back to the filthy images from the Polish Solidarity Strike that began almost 26 years ago.