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So: weekend FTW.

Firstly, my most amazing and helpful daddy came over at an ungodly early hour of Saturday morning, and inspected my flat tire. It was quite beyond fix a flat, apparently, having popped its damn self right off the wheel; so we went to Les Schwab and they said they would send a truck in one hour. As my daddy and I are both Irish and also big fans of good cheeseburgers and cute girls, we went to Dot’s for the aforementioned and a good strong beer or two. I am pleased to announce that after two years of absence our favorite waitress is still working there and remembered both of us. We sat around in Dot’s having our good strong beers and becoming progressively more aggressive in our mirror image hand gestures and conversational material, and cute waitress flirted with us quite excellently, and it was all in all a very good way to deal with a flat tire.

Eventually the Les Schwab boy showed up and air compressored/kicked my tire back onto the wheel and into temporary fullness, and we proceeded to the tire center for heartbreakingly expensive new back tires. That is the problem with driving a little wild one and she brings you only sorrow: she requires extravagant new high performance tires about once a year and if you ever piss her off she will just arbitrarily knock one off the wheel for you just so you know what’s up. Le sigh.

HOWEVER: another reason my dad is the shit is that I told him the sad story of my cold dead stove and its twin tale of woe, the cold dead aid of the apartment management. Due to good strong beers and good strong conversation and having our heads thoroughly turned by the waitress, we forgot to check my circuit…breaker? box thingy? on Saturday. So yesterday he called me up and walked me through the process of checking my own…circuits? Oh. Fuses. and it was very empowering and now I know how to fuck with a party I am not enjoying in the most efficient way imaginable. So I pried open my circuit box and I looked inside, and was confused for a short while. Of course I immediately noticed that eight sets of switches were on, and one set of switches was off; but I did not immediately connect this in my head to the fact many things in my apartment were functioning and one of them was not. Silence, peon. I am nervous around anything having to do with electricity. It has a fondness for my sweet body. So anyhow, we discussed the layout and circumstances of my fuse box for a moment, and then SUDDENLY I noticed that the switches that were off, those only switches that were off? Were marked Range. And so I threw back my head and laughed the laughter of one who has found the world lacking in its fundamental nature, and who has risen above and firmly grasped the golden ring in her own grubby fist. And I flipped the switches, and went running out to make a pot of coffee and a loaf of bread. Selah.

I am

tinker tailer soldier fly

January 27, 2012

Well. It is a beautiful sunny day and my car is fucking me yet again. Today we have a flat tire, and we just think we are so darn cute. I swear to god it’s a ploy for attention. I know, I am SORRY I have not vacuumed you in over a month! I am aware that one of your roof patches is leaking slow raindrops into your passenger seat! It is not my fault, I am waiting for a weekend without rain; if I try to vacuum you in the rain you will just get far wetter faster than any slow leak could ever do for you, and there is simply no hand sewing a leather patch through a vinyl roof in the pouring rain. Stiff little fingers aside, no traction to speak of on an instrument that is literally the size of a needle. Have some understanding.

Hopefully tomorrow will be dry as a bone and I can bribe my father to help me put on my spare tire. I know you think I should be able to do it myself, and I admit that I share your point of view. However my jack is one of those yea old cross shaped affairs and even when I stand on it with both feet, position just so, and jump as hard as I can, it will not budge. Some things you need a big strong man for.

In other and far better news, my house is all set up now. It is homey in the way that only a one bedroom apartment largely devoid of furniture and totally satiated with paintings and cats can be. My stove continues broken, but it is occurring to me just now that perhaps instead of waiting in stoic resignation for the last of three things to go wrong with my car I can just assign that final portion of the malfunctioning triplet to the stove and breathe easier once the tire is replaced. And by breathe easier I do mean pay more stupid money that I do not stupid have, and continue to eat salami sandwiches for the uncertain duration. It is to sigh. Although salami is actually one of my favorite things in the world, so really; every cloud in my life has a silver lining at just this juncture. Knock wood and such.

I am

off to pen that paper

January 26, 2012

This made me cry huge tears into my keyboard. Kid after my own fucking heart. I now wish I had sent that letter to the entire Denver Broncos team this year.

Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Sweetness

I am

I am having an interesting sort of day. Firstly, I have not had coffee because apparently the stove in my new apartment is broken and it simply refuses to turn on at all, in any capacity, whatsoever. So no morning coffee. Furthermore I am myself as broke as a move across states and into an abominably deposit focused apartment (300.00 per cat. Those are some damn expensive cats, and I am considering whoring them out for Friskies commercials or something) can make a girl; so no coffeeshop coffee. This utter absence of caffeine is way more hardcore to deal with than the absence of a cigarette could ever be. Lots of days I don’t feel like smoking at all and so I don’t, and nothing untoward whatsoever happens to me. This lack of coffee though is brutal. I have the dickens of a frontal lobe headache and the rest of my brain, while technically functioning, is currently more suited to contemplations of parallel universes and the destinations of helicopters than toward say, any actual work such as the work I am supposed to be doing right this very minute.

I love helicopters. Part of me is astonished that they can leave the ground and stay away from it for any amount of time at all. They just look so fat and unwieldy. Today I missed my very own office building because I was too busy watching a helicopter land on a roof; for a second it looked like it would land on top of a bridge, I guess because it was moving so slowly and looked so indecisive, and hovered for long moments over a very apropos portion of bridge top…it would be awesome if bridges came equipped with centrally positioned heli pads. I would totally pay thirty dollars to sit on top of a bridge in a helicopter for ten minutes.

When the helicopter eventually landed, not on the bridge but on a nice predictable rooftop, I peeled my eyes off the sky and realized that I had wavered to an uncertain stop in front of the neighboring coffeeshop and all the people inside were looking at me with as much interest as I had been looking at the helicopter. I cursed my inability to buy a two dollar cup of black coffee (robbery) and turned myself officeward, attempting to look like I had been gathering vitally important information from my prolonged scrutiny of the sky, and that now I had better haul ass to collate some equally important info to support my doubtless planet saving hypotheses. I need coffee.

When I arrived at the office late and feeling slightly ridiculous, I stood in front of the elevator wall for a good thirteen seconds pushing the up button before it finally slid into my consciousness that this particular button was not working and moreover it had no intention of working any time soon. It was in fact quite dead and broken, much like my very own stove. So I stood there for a few seconds more, contemplating the very long hike up eight flights of stairs (and you can just shut up, eight flights of stairs is an awfully daunting  trek for a smoker who has not had her coffee in twenty four hours) and then of course it occurred to me that all I really needed was for the elevator to open; so I pushed the down button, and it worked, and the elevator opened, and there we were. I pushed 8 and waited, and the elevator gave a little jump and went silent all and silent still. And terrible visions of plummeting behavior or long minutes passing uneventful as I waited for salvation that was never coming, my faith in the emergency call button being sadly shaken by the betrayal of the up button, flashed through my mind and oh, how I wished for coffee. A whole hour or so in an elevator would be all right if I had only the sweet companionship of some strong black coffee. Then the elevator jumped again, and dropped a bit, and I gave a startled little squeak and the doors slid open and I was back on the first floor. Before I could make up my mind to any sort of decisive action, the doors shut again and the elevator carried me without further complaint to the eighth floor, which is a veritable relief with but one bitter drop to poison it: here I am at my desk, and I have no coffee.

I am

turn the page

January 17, 2012

there is a road

no simple highway

between the dawn

and the dark of night

and if you go

no one may follow

that path is for

your steps alone

if you should stand

then who is to guide you

if I knew the way

I would take you home

All right, which of you darling angel hamsters discovered my blog by googling ‘iguana sombrero leash?’

I am

shining down like water

January 10, 2012

What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

I snowboarded and damn was that awesome. Fortunately (for my selfishness) there is not much snow this year right now, so I cannot sit at home and pout about not having enough money to go slicing downhills faster than I could have ever imagined nothing but a body and a board could go. Also I rode from San Francisco to Portland in a Uhaul with my cats on the inside and my car on the outside, and we every one of us emerged unscathed. My car needs a new fuel injector but I am certain that cannot have anything to do with her recent days long piggyback ride.

Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I think I made them. I’m sure I tried to keep them. For this year I am going to do whatever the hell I want and trust that it is just and good and right and fitting so to do. Furthermore I have promised to start flossing more than three times a year, and I believe that I will also learn to play the saxophone and buy another motorcycle. Selah.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Scott is…kind of close to me. We live in the same town now. And whilst he did not actually give birth himself, I am certain that he gave very necessary other things. Now there is baby D’Brickashaw in the world, and I am suddenly remembering that I think I owe him a quilt. Add that to the list of my new year’s resolutions.

Did anyone close to you die?

No. And they better not, either.

What countries did you visit?

I drifted closer to the danger shores of despair and rage than I have ever previously done in my life, and then suddenly when it appeared that all hope was lost and I was going to crash my blue canoe against the rocks just to spite my own indecision, something as yet utterly undefined and underconsidered occurred and I spun several cookies and headed back into the shimmer the sun casts against the edges of the ocean’s ripples…and I tore ass on home to flat fuck fabulous without even referring to the stars more than four times or so.

What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A Mayan calendar? Um…more shoes. Huge mashing loads of friends and family inside my house all the time except for when I am painting or sleeping. Faith in myself.

What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

There will forever be a kaleidoscope of many moments in sunshine solitude when a painfully wistful riff of electric guitar or mellow nostalgic note of saxophone bled me gently open and left me soaking in the deepest most beautiful pain of my life…I know that sounds incredibly emo, but it was really an incredibly difficult year for me. Every moment when the tang of my own soul came bursting or curling up through the stranger of my day to day life will stay with me for a long while.

And the absolute BEST date has no real calendar assignation either, although I suppose I could google it were I not so lazy. I went to a show with Alain and some friends and I sat on grass in a deep dark slope of nighttime hillside and I basked in the music of Eddie Vedder, Santana, and Neil Young. Those were some of the most blissful moments I have ever spent.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Deciding that I don’t need a damn rational reason to feel the  way I do.

What was your biggest failure?

Fearing my life and death, doubting my intelligence and reason, curbing my enthusiasm, downing my sorrows, waiting. Waiting.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

Well, you know. Fair amount of head colds; fair amount of bruises. Would it even be a year if I’d gone without a bruise somewhere upon me at any given time? I think not.

What was the best thing you bought?

Well, I’m still pretty stoked on the black leather Darth Vader hoodie I got for Alain.

Where did most of your money go?

I would assume with all the certainty of a details avoidant junkie that the majority of it went to cat food and Alaska Airlines.

What did you get really excited about?

PAYING OFF MY CAR. Working for Blazing Cloud! My secret garden murals! School! Oh my god, school. School was the great and burning love of my life during 2011 and it ate most of my time the way plane tickets ate most of my dollars.

What song will always remind you of 2010?

Long May You Run.

Compared to this time last year, are you:

Happier or sadder: I would imagine that I am happier than I have been in several years. For the first time in that long I have some solidarity of soul, some direction of purpose, and, most importantly, the vastly valuable but long absent teaspoonful of Does Not Give a Fuck.

Thinner or fatter: Is this really possible? I am thinner in silhouette and fatter in…fattiness. I need to stop living on crackers and do a pushup. I say that every year.

Richer or poorer: Well, I make more and I am done paying for my car every month, but now I have rent to do and shoes to find. I always seem to come out even. Knock wood.

What do you wish you’d done more of?

Not given a fuck. Laughed, lit up, got out, got down. Played more air guitar. Done more pushups. Made more graffiti.

What did you do you wish you’d done less of?

Cudgeled my brains for the exact angle from which to move a given centimeter; abused myself for personality traits I should have been celebrating; blamed myself for acts of god; fucked up perfectly good Billy Joel songs; dropped the soap; worn shoes with holes in the heels; eaten cliff bars for breakfast and lunch five days a week…

How did you spend Christmas?

I spent it where the wild things are.

What was your favorite TV program?

Oh…Ghost Adventures. Definitely Ghost Adventures. And then, fucking Mad Men. I blame the recurrence of cigarette addiction in my life 89% on Mad Men and 11% on personal fragility.

What were your favorite books of the year?

This is kind of sad, but…I mostly read textbooks. And I loved them all. My favorite was my Psychology of Human Development.

What was your favorite music from this year?

Well, Dire Straits Pandora is kicking my ass with its utter awesomeness right now; literally, it is playing me decades of incredible bass thumping head banging music for hours and hours straight and everything has absolutely rocked face except once when they were silly enough to throw some Jimmi Hendrix in there. But I understand why they thought maybe that was smart. It just wasn’t.

Also I super loved Yacht, PINK FLOYD, Tom Petty, and…oh. Is this question supposed to be about music that came out during this year? Because I have no fucking clue. I am behind the times and I do not care. I got a Justin Beiber singing toothbrush if that counts.

What were your favorite films of the year?

I super loved Hugo; and the last Harry Potter movie was pretty good, I love me an unlikely hero. And…Super 8 was simply kick ass.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

On my birthday I went to the Nite Lite and put hats on people and took pictures of them. It is all that I ever want for my birthday and it filled me with joy and also apparently a vicious head cold.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

If I could have just fucking damn believed in myself.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Dwindling into obscurity. For some reason I cannot define it really fucked with me to resemble more closely the homeless population than anyone else on the sidewalk. I didn’t want to change my style but there was nothing I could do about anyone else’s and so I just stopped paying attention. I am happy to say I got better. And I got some great hats.

What kept you sane?

Electric guitar.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.

It is my life. I will live it. Fuck you.

It is 2012, and I am