Thursday, August 31, 2006

leaving, on a jet plane insert something less trite and lame here

Off to ABQ manana!

My friends have the following planned for me:
-Camping/hiking in the mountains. Mountains! Wow!
-Drinking beersss. Wow!
-Bill Maher tickets. Wooooo!
-Informational meetings about inspirational life-changing opportunities!

Also I am taking a lesson with the guy there, the trombone guy. Weeee! Trombone!

I'm sorry- did 2 margaritas and a beer make me incomprehensible? Hey, at least I can still spell it! Because I am awesome!

More drunken posts ahead as I reconnect with my dearest of friends, Timberly and Allimason, plus bonus best friend Megan! I'm taking my camera AND my USB cord. You never know!

Take away the beer, before I use any more exclamation points. My roommates are evil, I swear.

PS The Funniest Thing I've Ever Seen is the episode of Arrested Development called 'Mr F'. See it now or die trying.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

that was a freebie

dear lorn,

Here I am! Hi!

Hi!! *waves*

I'm all shiny and new- you're the first person to ever watch me, a brand new DVD!

By the way, don't you think I'm the funniest so far? I do. I'm really proud of all my work.

Enjoy me! I love you!

the George Michael to your Maeby,
3rd Season of Arrested Development

my path to fame

By far the top two search engine queries that lead to this site are "sudafed high" and "popcorn stuck in teeth." I get both of those at least once a week; in the case of "sudafed high" it's up to three times this week. I like to think that I'm big among the over-the-counter drug abuser crowd, on top of being helpful to those in need of relief from little bits of popcorn stuck in their gums.

This week the good contenders are:

"IM AFRAID OF THE BUDDHA" (all caps- this is someone who is currently performing a fevered internet search while Buddha pounds on his locked door, demanding to be let in or he'll 'break the sucker down and no one will ever hear from you again!!')
"clits pits and cats" (interesting- a new bestselling, irreverant chicklit novel?)
"i look like a teenager"
"Nickelodeon today makes me want to cry" (me too, buddy, me too)
"buddha swimsuit picture" (from before the Buddha became homicidal- hey, we all have our days)
"italian trombone squash"

But only one "cunt or pussy" search. I'm afraid I'm just not cut out to be a porn site, sorry guys.

how'd you find me?

Sunday, August 27, 2006

picture this

New on the Photoblog:

Pumpkins, you have two months to show me what you've got. Start your engines!

Looking hot in a new kick-ass t-shirt.

cats and laptops, being 25, and the end of summer

Why is it that cats love laptops so much? As I type this I have to fight with mouse space on my desk with Gatsby, who's taking over Nikolai's normal job of sitting contentedly on top of all my stuff, purring. I'm watching the cursor move slowly across the screen, and I don't know what time it is because earlier in a fit of happy Gatsby bumped up against my clock and knocked it to the floor. Now he's playing with whatever's being shifted with the air from the fan. Gatsby is too big for this.

But I wouldn't give this moment up for anything in the world. I am not ashamed to admit that I am in love completely with my cats and their silliness. This is why I must pass on the wealth to you, dear reader, in the form of a kitten. Please. Please take her.

Aaaaand....there goes my pen and my day planner. Commence self-satisfied paw licking session!

I'm good. I'm really good. It dawned on me the other day, in the midst of my angst-ridden misery, that I should be glad to have these feelings. I should be glad to know that I can deal, that I understand myself, that I am a grown-up in that sense. Sure, I still act like a kid. The combination of me, Jason, and alcohol is enough to make my maturity level drop to about that of a 19-year old. A slutty, self-centered, alcoholic 19-year old.

And one time, in Intro to Music Research? Yeah, I couldn't stop laughing because I'd accidentally shot a pen cap across the room after I'd been pretending to pick my nose with it. Yeah, I'm 5, too.

But no, seriously. The things I can do now with self-confidence and enjoyment amaze me. I can flirt, dance, sing in public, drink people under the table, have sex, have and demand safe sex, socialize, meet new people and make friends with them in seconds flat, plan a vacation, pay my bills, grow cantaloupes, make people laugh, act without caring the consequences (in other words, act in a way that means I accept the consequences), disregard the consequences, act in a responsible manner when need be, plan my career, pay for my own schooling, teach, network, cook amazing meals, manage a household, care for pets, keep in touch, cut my own hair, embrace the joy of crayons, make obscure pop culture references from the 80s and 90s, ogle dancing girls in their bras, dress up as Joan Jett or a sexy gypsy lady and go out in public without shame, have sloppy make-outs, masturbate, live without regrets....

All of these things have been on my mind lately. Sometimes I go back and read through my archives here and am amazed at how much of a transition I've gone through. I guess it's normal, this steady path toward adulthood. But I'm happy, mostly because I can do all of these things (and more!) and not feel like I have to analyze them. I just do them. And that for me is the biggest aspect of maturity, the fact that I can, very simply, be myself in any situation. Instead of going through everything in my head, thinking 'is that funny?' 'what will people think if I...' 'who's looking at me? is it safe?', I

I like that. I remember that my freshman year of high school I went on a church trip to Boulder, CO. We worked for Habitat for Humanity, building, tearing down, making birdhouse donation boxes, secretly shaving even though it was a camp rule not too (something about saving water), feeling creeped out by the male counselors, arguing with the Minnesotans over whether it was 'soda' or 'pop', and having those camp chat sessions where you get all touchy-feely and let everyone know what you think of them and what you've learned from the trip. One of the older girls, just starting college, told me, "You remind me of me. You're shy, but that's not you. One day you'll grow up and that's when I'll be thinking 'Watch out world, because here she comes.'"

And I think finally, now, I'm beginning to understand what she meant.

Summer is over, and school starts tomorrow. Of course, I don't have classes...but I am going to teach lessons. I'll hopefully find out soon how I did on auditions, but I realize too that I don't really care. I'm not here to fight for ensemble space. I'm here to get better, to make myself a good trombonist in spite of odds and whatnot. If I'm not in an ensemble, it means more time to practice. I've had plenty of experience and I'll have time to get more. I've got a recital to plan and DMA auditions to arrange. A competition to do. Connections to make. No time to stress over how 5 minutes of my life affected one school year. No time. I SAID NO TIME!!!! Jesus.

Private joke/personal quip o' the week:
"And for a bit, all I could think was 'Oh my God! My hip! Uggghhh!!'"

Saturday, August 26, 2006

look at the size of my melons!

Remember when they were babies? Well now they're all grown-up and they smell delicious! Cantaloupe party at my house! Woooooo!

Friday, August 25, 2006

k is for kristopher!

Although I said it last week, I'd just like to take the time to wish my good friend Kristopher a happy official birthday today.

Kristopher is awesome because all summer he put up with me calling him when I was bored, hoping to be invited over for dinner and a movie. He has never refused me. And he lets me steal all his recipes. And they're all vegetarian. And then he gives me half of his bulgur wheat from Central Market.

Kristopher is awesome because he always has wine handy.

Kristopher is awesome because he knows the answer to lots of linguistic questions and ponderings, and he has this map of Native American language groups on his kitchen wall that I can't stop looking at when I'm over. Yet he never seems to mind that sometimes I stop listening to him for a few seconds because I am lost in thought about how cool California must be to have all those different language families.

Kristopher is awesome because he let me order him a beer one time, even though he doesn't like beer much, and drank it and smiled and said he liked it. He even bought the round!

Kristopher is awesome because he sees me itching to take a picture of something, and I've forgotten my camera, so he hands me his. I am still waiting to receive the results of our Fort Worth trip, however, and for that Kristopher loses awesome points. :)

Happy Birthday, Kristopher!

Thursday, August 24, 2006

possibilities, potential, and progress

It's one of those days- one of those days when you wake up disappointed in yourself and in life in general and you just wish you could get on to the next day after having slept off your fears and your sadness. Tomorrow, you know, will be a day with endless possibilities and you can look forward to feeling good, even if nothing special happens. But today, you're just blue. Maybe yesterday you didn't perform to your potential. You knew you hadn't worked hard enough. You knew you'd be nervous and things would go differently than you expected. Now you feel like things aren't working out, like you're just treading water and never getting better, even at the things for which you've been working hard. You're frustrated because you can't hear yourself, and you can't hear how other people hear you. You don't know if you've progressed enough. Your confidence is shattered and you feel sick to your stomach.

And other things sort of fell apart, too. You can't help but wonder what the hell you think you're doing, playing that one game, and you're just waiting for it to blow up in your face. You're thinking of quitting while you're ahead, so that the possibility of heartache is left out of the situation. Something's wrong with this picture, the potential for disaster is too high. Too many things are at stake. It's not a simple game of 'catch me if you can' anymore, it's a race, a competition. If you let things progress, you'll end up hurting other people as well as yourself, and maybe you'll be even more miserable about it than you are now. Before too many words are spoken, before anything hurts too much, you want it to stop. You wish you didn't have to give it so much weight, because it doesn't feel like a weighty thing, but it keeps demanding your attention. It won't go away unless you make it go away.

So Today you woke up feeling kind of sick, kind of off kilter. You'd like to have a good cry about it but it's so subtle you're not sure you can summon tears so easily. Everything irritates you. You know you could talk about it with someone instead of being cryptic here on your blog, but you're afraid of being lectured. Of having someone being wiser than you. You want commiseration, mutual misery, empathy. Someone who knows that Tomorrow you'll feel better and Today is for stewing in whatever mess is in your head. You're just trying to figure out what you'll do until keep these things from being too much for you.

It's the end of summer, and reality is knocking on your door. Surprise! It's time to start being an adult again. Get up before noon, cross off things on your to-do list, make plans for school, stop shirking responsibilities. Wake up.

Wake up.

Monday, August 21, 2006

'alo, sue

We've found a kitten, can you give her a home?
She's healthy and sweet, loves you and your cat
She cleans up real nice, no need for a comb!
If you take her and love her she'll be silky and fat!

Or maybe haiku is your thing?

Meet Sweet Sue the cat
Silver fur black stripes brown eyes
How she likes to play!

Seriously, though. Miss Sue needs a home. If you're in the DFW area and you want a sweet, healthy, charming little kitten, give me a holler. I'll explain what to do next!

Sunday, August 20, 2006

letters to inanimate objects

dear Season Three of Arrested Development,

Can't you come out sooner than next Tuesday? I reeeeaallly want to see you. I keep hearing your voice in my head and I'm dreaming about you. I love you. Don't leave me hanging.


dear Alcohol,

We need to stop seeing each other for a little while. Not too long, you understand- it's just that I've got this audition coming up this week and I'm so busy working on the music. I really need to do well on it, so that this year is fun for me. And you're just getting in the way, seriously. I need some space. You understand, right? Maybe next weekend we can get together again and have a chat? You just let me know.

all the best,

dear Boobs,

Thanks for helping me get cheap drinks last night. You guys are the best! Huzzahs all around.

hazily yours,

dear Albuquerque, NM,

I'm coming to visit you! I booked my plane ticket and I'm pretty excited. I hope we get to do all the things we've talked about and more, and get to know each other better. I really like the desert, have I told you that? Plus mountains. Sometimes North Texas asks me 'Lorn, what's a mountain?' and I have to stutter for an explanation. It's really very ignorant; you have to be patient with it so as to stay on its good side. Anyway, here's hoping for fun times with you, ABQ!


dear UNT ensemble auditions,

I am ready to rock out at you. Please, don't be alarmed at how I haven't practiced Brahms 2 as much as I should. I'm working on it- I've got three more days! I think it'll be good for me to shine this year, so I'm hoping for the best. Can you give me a hand? Make sure I stay confident, and don't throw any surprises at me. Is that okay?


dear Brahms 2,


hopefully practicing,

Friday, August 18, 2006


80s Night was a little disappointing tonight (although the Hot Indie Kid meter was at an all time high), but, but...

Manga Girl...she was her, her, um (blushes), her ((bra))!!!!

With Jim Morrison sunglass on. That girl is my hero, seriously.

*needs a stiff cold drink*

Thursday, August 17, 2006

new and improved miscellany

First off, a round of Happy Birthdays:

Jason- did you have fun last night? I did. When I saw the sun rising again I thought, 'oh, that's three in a row.' Only you can make me stay up that late on the third day when it feels like my eyes are bleeding and my liver is crying out for the tears of innocents.

Kristopher- I hope you have a great time in Michigan. I am jealous of the weather and the people and the scenery you get to experience. I don't need anything from there, thanks for asking...although if you can get some Bell's on the plane...I wouldn't refuse, exactly.

Most Painful Thing Evar, TM.

Last night I made dinner for Jason. The lentil soup was almost ready to be blended, and I wanted to smell it, since the last time I had it it was delicious. So I lifted up the lid of the pot, but I must have had my nose too close to the steam because when I inhaled....

Hot, hot hot hot hothothothot steam rushed up my nose and sent me to the floor in a dazed panic.

I scalded the INSIDE of my nose, people. Don't ever do that. It's like fire, and then for a little bit you think it won't hurt so badly, and the next thing you know you're spending ten minutes in the bathroom inhaling cold water. It still hurts. I'm snotty, but it's all crystalized and crusty. I think some nose hairs may be timidly poking their heads back out today, but they're still a little gun shy...

Thursday night is 80s Night! It's here again! I'm so excited!

Please don't forget to answer my poll!

The poll is also up in the women's bathroom at Lou's. Lou's women's bathroom has chalk walls and you can drunkenly scribble things on them while making sure you don't pee all over the place, which isn't really your fault because the toilet seat is too small for the bowl. You do what you can. Anyway, if you're at Lucky Lou's in Denton and you wanna take a poll, now you know.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

this one's for the search engine

It's recently come to my attention that have very strong opinions on what my girly bits should be called. Don't ask me how this came to my attention; it's too embarrassing/aggravating and I'll be blushing and ranting all over the place at the same time. Not pretty.

Anyway, I guess you have two mainstream options. Lots of people have silly names for it but those are for the most part private and personal. What I want to know is, do you have a pussy or a cunt? Boys/girls who love girls, how do you address the female genitalia?

Does the female form make you uncomfortable, Lebowski?

Anyway. Like I said it's come to my attention, and I feel the need to discuss, my problems with the word 'pussy' and why I prefer 'cunt' (I am tailoring this entry specifically to get The Kitty out of hiding. I know she can't resist a good feminist/sexual/political discussion...)

Let's examine how both words are used outside of a sexual context.

pussy: As in 'don't be a pussy' or 'he pussied out', pussy carries connotations of weakness and cowardice. It's in the same category as 'sissy' in that it implies the feminine, and therefore societally weaker gender role. Also, cats. I guess women are associated with cats but I never understood the switch-over. And if I hear one more time 'Oh look, there's a pussy on your pussy!' the next time one of my cats sits between my legs, I will go postal on your ass.

cunt: 'You cunt!' 'That cunt is always mad at someone.' Cunt is stronger, angrier, and yes, more controversial. You might not want to call someone's privates a cunt until you've cleared the term with her. But it comes from a goddess, Kunta, it implies power and mystery. If you call someone a cunt in anger it means that they've riled you up- gotten you embroiled in some sort of action. It's not passive like 'pussy' is.

And you can bet this transfers over to the sexual side of the words. Although I'd rather not be insulted in either manner I'd rather be called a cunt. What 'pussy' says to me, when spoken to a woman, is 'You are a sexual object for my use. I have reduced you to the parts that are valuable to me.' 'Cunt' says, 'you've made me angry, and that's hot. You're still a sexual object, but not one I can control.'

Pussy is a soft word, incapable of being spoken in anger but ideal for whispers and soft speech. It rolls off the tongue and is out the mouth without any significant thought. It's round and squishy and malleable.

Cunt is hard. Before it can be spoken it has to be willed, and the mouth has to wrap around it and spit it out hard. It's not light or transparent. It can be angry and affectionate, it can be joyous and intimidating. It's square and present and uppity.

Which would you rather?

Sunday, August 13, 2006

wishes are horses

I'm bored. Other than the fact that I've been reading Pamie's archives, all the way from the beginning, I'm really just in a funk. I meant to get up early today and Get Things Accomplished (tm) but I didn't. I managed to clean my bathroom, but only because I can stand walking on kitty litter for so long.

I am a big scary loser.

I'd really like to get out of the house. Maybe go get some iced chai with someone. I kinda feel like there are very few people out here that I can go to coffee shops with, and that's a strange feeling. In Madison, you're not only up to your ears in coffee shops, but you're up to your ears in friends that want to go to them for studying/gossip/deep discussion. You run into friends at the coffee shop- you don't even have to call them. Case in point? The New Years I went to Madison with Jason, I had a few hours to myself. So I walked around State Street, browsed the stores, and then stopped in to Expresso Royale for a chai. I sat in the window with the couches, and drank and read. About ten minutes later I hear commotion outside, taps on the window, and I look up to see my friend Dan coming through the door with a big grin on his face.

Dan was supposed to be in Mexico. No one I'd talked to knew when or if he was coming back. I hadn't told him I was coming to Madison for the holiday.

Madison coffee shops are magic.

The difference here is, I can't walk to any of them. I'd have to drive and I'd probably sit by myself as I'd never in a million years run into someone I knew except in passing, and they'd have coffee shop friends anyway so I'd just continue to sit quietly and read my nonexistent book (I really need a new book to read, but I can't go to the library. I have a fine. I don't have any cash. I can't get a book to read until I have some cash).

In San Diego, my visits are usually timed up with holidays, and other friends are home. Coffee shops are a good way to catch up with friends. Unfortunately, the only coffee shop I can think of since Borders betrayed me and switched to Seattle's Best is Hot Java, and man, that place is stanky with the hormonal adolescence of Rancho Bernardo's suburban emo kids. It makes me feel weird sometimes just holding the game boxes, like suddenly a cute boy I like will walk through the door and I'll have to hide in my friend's shoulder and giggle uncontrollably. And then maybe I'd go write a song about it on my guitar.

So San Diego coffee shops are not magic.

Anyway, I'm a little bemused about my lack of coffee shop friends. Most people just want to party and adventure and bar hop, and I'm fine with that. Still, I like those quiet evenings spent chatting over a puzzle and figuring yourself out.

Who will be my coffee shop friend?

I'm missing...Tim and Allison.

I'm trying to get a flight for Labor Day weekend, and everything's about $200. That's not too bad, I guess, but ABQ is so close. Only 2 hours away by plane. I suppose I'd be staying free and I'd see Megan again too and finally meet this cat of hers, and I'd get some hiking and camping in...oh hell, I'm totally going to do it. As soon as I get that check from financial aid.

I also want to go to:
Toronto (Jerry)
New York City (Doug, Davis, Hans?)
Boulder (Emily)
San Diego (Mommy and Daddy)


I have to save up money for a trip to Santa Barbara in November for Sommer's wedding. I have to save up money for auditions in the spring, and if I want to make sure I like the places, I may have to go to them twice...ah hell.

I might have another school to teach at- I got a call today from a high school band director who wants to meet with me. I'm conflicted. On the one hand, teaching is fast, easy money. It is music related; it looks good on the resume. On the other hand, it's just as far away as Mesquite, only in the opposite direction, and I'm tired of driving. I'm terrified of myself for already having put 12,000 miles on my barely 7 months old car. I might have a job at the rec center here, lifeguarding, and if not I'm applying to work as an usher at the Murchison. Work Study. Not as fast easy money.

But I said I'd go out and meet the guy, and play for him.

I'll get $2000 in work study. I won't spend any more money on gas than usually takes me to get to school, because I can work my schedule around practicing and concerts and classes. I might just bike, anyway, because the rec center has showers.

If I teach 15 new students once a week for three months, I get $2700 for the semester, roughly. Not counting absences, deadbeats, drop outs and days off of school, the total is probably more like $2300 or so. Gas? I'll need half a tank for each trip, plus maintenance every three months.

About even, right? I think I'll go by my stress levels, then. Time for the band director let down!

Sorry these entries are so long lately. I'm bored. I'm starting to think people don't like me so much because I'm stinky. See, I got a new deodorant. It's 'all natural' as they say. It doesn't really work for shit. I knew this was going to happen- I've experimented with Earth friendly deodorants before. The thing is, I spent $4 on and now I'm determined to get every last cent out of it. So I guess I'll see you guys in about two months or so.

And another thing. Why am I not practicing? I was doing so well for about a week, and then I lost it. I stopped and I forgot to have enthusiasm and drive and now I just don't feel like it at all. I'm going to suck at my audition and Jan's going to be upset with me and I'll end up with no one ever asking me to play in anything or be in any groups, just like last year.


Saturday, August 12, 2006

for a minute there i lost myself, i lost myself

Man, I was driving to and from the bank today with the best post in my head. It was funny, it was sage, it had all the bells and whistles---

And then Kristopher called and invited me to IKEA. I didn't have anytime to wait for my slow-ass computer to boot up, connect to the internet, and allow me to even begin to outline the entry.

Well, I did get to go to IKEA.

Let's play a game! Guess which item Lorn got for free from IKEA?

I purchased:
2 small throw pillows $.99 each
A large-as-fuck wooden cutting board (that I left in the back of K's car- dammit!)$9.99
A whisk $4.99
An ice tray that makes ice shaped like puzzle piece $1.99

My total was $15.11 (1.15 tax).

IKEA: Free whisk with purchase! Wee!
My cat is a rock star.

Last night, during 80s Fantasy Movie Night, Gatsby and Nik were doing their customary chase sequence. Nik went careening around a chair, but Gatsby, clever cat that he is, decided to go over the chair instead. Well, that's what it looked like. In reality he did one of those Fred Astaire kind of dance moves where you hit the chair, it totters, you pose with your feet on each side of it while it considers which side gravity is arguing for strongest. After a second or two it chooses 'fall over' and you skip off having done the Ultimate Cool Chair Dance Manuever (tm).

Only, Gatsby didn't look so cool. Instead he stood, hackles raised, on the fallen chair, and then bolted off in fear. I have this theory that cats think their whole world is stable. Everything within jumping distance is stable. Until it's not. Then they get that hurt, confused look that says 'what just happened to my perfect world? oh mercy me!'

They do, however, know full well when something is in prime position for being batted off something else. Commence chaos!

Why am I so offended by the whole Chick-Fil-A schtick? It just bugs the crap out of me. 'Eat more chicken' says the cow in the apron, but really, is that the way we want our farm animals to interact? Oh, it's cute and all, that cow wants us to eat more chicken so that cows are saved, and hee hee, animals are funny.

It just really gets to me. Really. On top of the fact that I can't eat there, not that I want to because ick, fast food, it's just...okay, it's fair, I don't like advertising in general. Or chains. Except for IKEA and Target and Chipotle and the Gap. Shit.

Is instant messaging past its prime, or am I?

I haven't signed onto AIM in a while, mostly because I always forget at home and by the time I remember I'm ready to get offline anyway, or because I'm in the computer lab at school and I won't be there long enough to converse with someone.

It just seems like, long ago in the glory days of ICQ (my user name was Enjolrasse, and I was a nerdy-nerd), I would have all these long, hilarious, heart-felt conversations with people like Hans and Jon and Megan. I used to print them out for later, and I would read them at night before I went to bed, laughing. I had something Hans told me, a nice quote, taped on the wall above my homework desk. When I started using AIM more, it wasn't much different.

I just remember....salmon hats! Pfft! and oh man, it was so easy to flirt.

Maybe I'm just out of my element now, but I miss the little cat that would show up in the ICQ logo when you ran you mouse over it.

80s Fantasy Movie Night was fabulous, by the way. We got through The Dark Crystal and The Labyrinth before the majority of people took off, and then Leah, Heather, Kristopher and I watched The Neverending Story, which is really a story about nothing in particular. Just a series of montages.

Rules for 80s Fantasy Movies:
1. The Castle/Mountain/Fantastic World/Evil Dwelling must crumble at the climax of the film.
2. There must be a traveling montage.
3. Dance sequences are optional but strongly recommended.
4. One of the ensemble cast has to be a whiny, yet perky, child. Coming-of-age in a meaningful manner is optional.
5. One or both parents of above child must be recently deceased or piteously absent.
6. Seriously, everyone did some sort of hard drug in the 80s. Even the muppets:

Rules for the Labyrinth:
1. David Bowie's crotch gets more air time than his face.

Set up your own 80s Fantasy Movie Night! It's fun!

Friday, August 11, 2006

oooh oooh ooh it's just like a dream
how 80s night at hailey's works

For my birthday night #1, Jason took me to 80s Night at Hailey's, which is a sort post-modernist warehouse type club off the square. You know the drill- blue backlighting, sheet metal walls here and there, christmas lights. Anyway, every Thursday night is 80s Night, and I have become a regular.

Here's how to have fun at 80s Night:

Step 1: Get drunk before you get there, or at least get on your way to tipsy. The only drink specials they have on Thursdays are $4 Long Islands, $3.50 New Belgium Beers, and $2 Texas Tangoes, which as I have discovered is a shooter of flavored vodka and fruit juice. Basically whatever the bartender wants to give you. Last night I heard someone in the bathroom calling it a 'Texas Terror' and then vomiting all over the toilet seat. Hurray!

Step 2: Look 80s, but in a sort of Denton Indie Kid kind of way. You have no idea how emo/indie this town is. It's like this: EVERYONE has a haircut that's all choppy and uneven, but it looks good on them because they've paired it with a sullen look and vintage clothing. EVERYONE is good looking and on any given night at Hailey's you could see yourself going home for sweaty indie sex with just about everyone in the room, with the exception of the DJ who is kinda nerdy looking, but not in a good Weezer-like way.
Addendum: Hailey's gets HOT. Friggin hot. All these sexy twentysomethings (plus the occasional older folk that look disparagingly down their noses at you thinking 'And me? Well I actually remember when this song came out and MY t-shirt isn't a Old Navy knockoff. Assholes.') dancing it up means that you will sweat. You will sweat so much you'll think you're still in the shower. You'll be able to reshape your funky haircut just based on all the sweat running through it alone. Dress accordingly. My best bet so far has been shorts and a tank. The skirts don't work. The dress didn't work. Go light.

Step 3: There are two regulars at 80s Night that you must find. One is the Bunny Hop Girl. Do not let her out of your sight- she will entertain you all evening with her hop-step-fist jab-hop-step. She is wearing jeans and clunky sandals. The other is Manga Girl. Manga Girl caught my eye the first night I was there and I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since. She's skinny, but well-proportioned, and she's always wearing little shorts, big socks, and fun sneakers. To me, it seems as though she's just stepped out of your favorite shoujo and is about to Karaoke her way into your heart. Chuck stopped her last week in the parking lot and told her I said that, and she was flattered. I will now engineer a way to sleep with her.

Step 4: Which one of your friends are you going to sing to? Figure this out at the beginning and then flirt shamelessly.

Step 5: People will take pictures. Okay, I will take pictures. You will not look good in them, because of the sweat. Don't worry, you're drunk.

Step 6: Once you're good and drenched, it's time to walk to Fry Street. Fry Street is a fifteen minute walk when you're sober but it will take you at least a half an hour on 80s Night. If you want to get to Lou's in time for $2 Long Islands, you should make sure you leave Hailey's before 1:30. Be prepared to ditch hop.

Step 7: Your underage friends could get into Haileys, but they can't get into bars on Fry Street. Say good night and go wander hazily amongst the bargoers.

Step 8: If you have an afterparty, make sure it involves waterguns and a sprinkler. Let your guest pass out wherever they want.

Have fun!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

in which i meet my neighbors

Yesterday I decided it'd been far too long since any sort of yard work had been done. Mind you, there's not much to do really- in the middle of a drought I refuse to water more than once a week, so the grass is pretty much brown. Doesn't bother me- then I don't have to mow it, either. But there was still some healthy grass near the hose, and weeds were everywhere. Out I went, hacking at the bushy grass with our push mower. It was hot, I'm out of shape, and when the grass is long enough the mower just won't give.

I went inside for some water. The doorbell rang.

A boy of about ten answers my 'yes?' with a deep Texas accent. 'Yew got ah minutt tah tahalk tah muh dahd?'

There was a truck waiting on the street. Instantly my mind was racing, trying to figure out if I'd done anything wrong, or what I would say if they offered lawn service.

'Just a second,' I said, and went in to get a shirt to cover my sports bra.

Turns out the guy just wanted to loan me his gas mower, which I turned down at first but he wouldn't talk no for an answer.

'Tuh Laord's seen fit tuh bless me wuth ah mohwer, ahnd Ih'm willing tuh leht yuh use ut. Tuh Laord's beehn good tuh me, blessed me wuth this cahr and such. Yuh cahn burrow ut, ahl we ahsk is that yuh pray for us!'

He came back a little while later with a gas mower, an electric edger, a blower and a weedwacker.

I didn't touch the other three, but the gas mower did help. Now I've got all this yard equipment sitting in my garage, waiting to be picked up. He gave me his phone number but I've got this irrational weirdness about strange, if kindly, thick-accented neighbors having my phone number on their cell. I keep imagining this scenario where somehow we end up married and I'm stuck playing housewife but I still have to mow the lawn because 'yuh gotta kehep up yuh figur!'

I know. I'm crazy.

Maybe he'll just come by this afternoon and pick it up without me having to ask.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

this is that, and that's that...

Here's a newsflash, since I can't seem to get the words to come out of my mouth audibly and we all know I'm a much better passive-aggressive internet person than a reasonable, honest human being.

I'm single.

Chuck and I finally quiet beating around the bush today with pretending to be happy and to go places, etc etc, and broke up. It was quite amicable. We are still close. He is still living here, albeit in a different room.

What's weird to me is the hardest part now is telling people. I feel like I'm breaking up with everyone else, too, and they may possibly might could take it worse. It's a weird sort of bandage coming off quickly kind of moment. Having trouble saying it aloud, so here I am. Gracias, les internets, for your easy anonyminity.

Monday, August 07, 2006

fuck this shit, yo

time for a change! take bets on what it might be. winner gets a slap on the ass and a pepsi cola.

you know how sometimes you've been trying to make a big decision and all of the sudden life starts throwing you little clues, because really you know the answer to your problem already, and then the movies you watch and the websites you read, and the conversations you have all seem to conspire to make one big flashing arrow at the thing you need to do?

yeah. time for some drama.


First. Mark ye calendars! 80s Fantasy Movie Night is Friday August 11 at 7pm! My house! Popcorn and drinks (soda, lemonade- no booze. I will make it to the end of all four movies and I don't expect doing that liquored up and woozy). We will be screening Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal, Neverending Story and Return to Oz, because it's awesome. AWE-frickin'-SOME. Show up for all four or just wander on over. It's all good!

Second. Sorry I have been silent! Lots of things have happened and I haven't had much time to post. In no particular order:
- Megan's visit= Fun and Enlightening, for both of us. Make outs were had (but not between the two of us)! Conversations stretched into the night! Cranium was played! In short it was the kinds of things Megan and I do best.
- Taught middle school band camp and learned to understand the Horn somewhat. It was fun! I felt inspiring. Still, needed to be paid much more money.
- Monica's wedding, fabulous. I played in the quintet, housed four out of town friends, and was openly nosy in the biggest house I've ever seen at the evening reception.
- Job interview at the pool, good! I managed to babble and stutter a little, as I always do, but aced the CPR stuff. They can manage work study. I may have a job!

Third. Auditions fast approacheth. Hear me now. I will make orchestra. Rarrrarwr.

Fourth. Items remaining this summer (only 20 days left!): Lessons pick up again, practicing is rampant, camping?, Jason's birthday, 80s nights at Haileys, adventuring, cooking, rearranging of bedroom, harvesting of delicious garden fruits.

La vie, c'est bien!