Monday, August 22, 2011

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Absolutely Not Safe For Work! Or Young Readers. Everyone else, read on if you will...

I have a new story out in the August 15 edition of Tawdry Bawdry.
I won't lie, this one is raw. Lots of sex and lying and existential dissatisfaction. As well as vintage Christmas ornaments.
That said, it's a story I really wanted to write, so if you're feeling brave or reckless or even mildly curious, please click and read.
I hope you like.

Monday, August 15, 2011

dusty

So much to talk about.
I got new ink on Friday, my grampa's nickname on the inside of my arm. The lovely Ash, just back from central America, designed and completed the tattoo. Every time I see my new ink I think about Gramp. I miss him so. If I can be half the champion human being he was...well, I'm going to try.
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I'll have a story link to share soon.
A poet/artist friend got a rather nasty rejection letter last week, larded with pseudo-intellectual MFA jibber jabber. Whatevs. He mixed up a fresh cocktail, heavy on vermouth, named it "too conventional," and we toasted the slush pile.
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I played tetherball this weekend! Yes, I said it. "!"
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Today's soundtrack is Julius Sylvest--don't miss the video, it's trippy cool:



Saturday, August 13, 2011

it's okay (not) to smile

When I was a kid, this man in my father's church would corner me and my sisters, tease up the sides of his lips with his index fingers, and bare his teeth: "Smile, girls, god loves you."
Not much about my childhood made me want to smile.
I grew up home-schooled and religious; I never felt like I could please my parents; I had zits and glasses and crooked teeth.
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In my teens I became addicted to French fashion magazines and Kafka and Goodwill. Smiling was still unnecessary: I had pointy shoes and orange permed hair and a bad attitude. Smiling seemed like an invitation to talk to me and I didn't want people talking to me (see: homeschool) and I really didn't want them looking at me (see: skin + teeth + glasses).
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These days I smile more. Reluctantly. Sometimes purposefully. A smile is so much. An invitation. A flirt. An acknowledgment. Relief. Divertissement. A precursor to a conversation, or a kiss, or punctuation to a goodbye.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

yeah!

Lots of failure in my life, as you know, but finally, a few successes too.
<----- I figured out who this guy is (recall my obsession) and saw some of his work on a random bridge column and at Trabant, in the U-district.
I had a "yes, definitely yes" on a story I submitted to this fine journal.
Still.
I'm one-for-twenty this year with submissions. The recording project is on life support. A blog idea died prematurely.
It's just way too many no's for my taste.
Am I being greedy?
Hell yeah. Oh hell yeah.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

kiddos

Somehow this turned into a kid-centric weekend. And I don't even have kids! Friday night I saw a friend perform in the Seattle Children's Theatre production of Avenue Q. "The Internet is for Porn" didn't make the cut (hehe) but I've never seen the 21+ version of the show so I dunno what I'm missing anyway. The SCT crew did great, and I officially heart Trekkie Monster.
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Saturday I checked out the Rain City Rock Camp performance at Neumo's. At one in the afternoon, both bars were closed and a group of oh-em-gee 11-year-olds made me guess their ages (they guessed mine too, and were merciful).
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Later on, a friend wangled us onto the guest list at the C89.5 listener appreciation party at Neighbors (thanks DJ Scott Binder!). Students from Nathan Hale High School run the station and some of their croaky-voiced compadres were working the door, taking tickets and failing to issue us wristbands. Inside was a sweaty hott mess and we danced until we were exhausted, then repaired to the VIP area to drink and check out the names and the faces, the drag queens and the hangers-on and the nobodies.
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I dare you to not dance to today's soundtrack:

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Be on the lookout

Last week's horoscope included this: You may underestimate the intensity of your longing for continual transformation, but the universe doesn't...You are in line to capitalize on discarded riches and unappreciated assets. Be on the lookout for the treasure hidden in the trash.
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I'm not 100% convinced that the stars have anything to say to me, and I probably won't become a Freegan anytime soon. But it does give my obsession with graffiti and found objects a new context.

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