I've been at Hard Times for a couple hours.
I woke up at Augsburg, and divvied out my bus fare for a cup of coffee and one refill. Sufficiently caffeinated, and tumbled out, I now blog.
Yesterday, I came to Augsburg and went to the Feminist Collective meeting. Erin runs it and it's fun to see the new faces and new view points, but it was also weird because I've been out of academia SO LONG... kinda... And when I used to go to Feminist Collective meetings, I would be pretty quiet, shy, reserved, hyper aware of my ignorance... but now, with a bunch of first years I feel like an overgrown snob.
After the meeting, Erin and I went to Kfai. Mayda was performing, and everyone was really excited. I worked on the blog, facebook, and made a tumblr. I really hope to become established with the social media thing.
Next week, The Sunny Era is playing, and I'm really excited to fan-girl out.
Today, knowing that my apartment will only bring sleep and dismay, I have stayed in Cedar Riverside.
I read a letter yesterday. A letter offering free fare for three weeks of the Arizona Renaissance Festival. I'd let that dream fizzle after the North Carolina blunder, but suddenly, with my current state of affairs, the prospect again seems promising.
I don't want to be dependent on anyone though, and I thought, "Hell, if I go for three weeks, why not go for the whole thing?" So I emailed John Coiner Pottery where my dad worked many years ago. I know pottery, I know Ren Fairs, February and March suck... sooo...
But the mere THOUGHT of North Carolina lost me my place in my band, and I worry that two months away might hurt my position with the Cocktails, and I love them.
If I went, I'd somehow pay for December rent, and then move home for a couple months. It couldn't be that bad... right? ... Again, I go through all that I know that I MUST do to stay healthy at home, and know that I'd get fat on the red chair watching Netflix.
And college loans.
Wtf.
I'm considering trying to busk Christmas songs, but I'm scared of panhandling politics. And trumpets are loud. Yesterday, I read an article about a Carlton student who juggled to pay rent, and now she's all professional. I want to build my own Hurdy Gurdy.
Fred and Daley showed up. I'm going to go read by them.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Domestic Blog
I'm on a blogroll.
I don't think I actually know what a blogroll really is, but it's not being underlined in red, so it must be real.
Yeah... so it is what I thought it was... a roll of blogs... but anyway.
I'm on a roll. I woke up this morning with a Walking Dead/Breaking Bad influenced zombie vampire animorph queer romance fan-fic dream in my head. When I sat down to write the one bit, a whole plot developed, and it's actually quite cool. Though it weirded me out when I transitioned to teenage girl handwriting when I did it. Hm.
Then I wrote my first Live From Studio Five blog. Check it out!
THEN I wrote on my Tumblr.
Now, I write in my quiet, domestic blog.
Because, Ah! As much as I would have loved to go to Farm Party, Erin couldn't, and now I get a whole day to recharge, not blast my liver, and prepare for coming adventures. I can read Moby Dick, The Ethical Slut, or my beloved, "Social Civics." I can nap unbounded, stay up watching Arrested Development, or go to bed early.
Then, tomorrow, I will be totally charged for my long awaited video game date. Well rested, and not hazed with other lovers and hang overs. So that maybe I will actually enjoy my video game experience. Granted they do actually share, and don't get bored after 20 minutes of Mario Kart because they are actually into video games, and would rather play some intricate role play for one person while I sit on the sidelines trying fretfully to follow the plot for some kind of entertainment as I simultaneously try not to gauge my eyes out with the assortment of writing utensils I can now carry freely in my new back pack...
I look forward to today.
I don't think I actually know what a blogroll really is, but it's not being underlined in red, so it must be real.
Yeah... so it is what I thought it was... a roll of blogs... but anyway.
I'm on a roll. I woke up this morning with a Walking Dead/Breaking Bad influenced zombie vampire animorph queer romance fan-fic dream in my head. When I sat down to write the one bit, a whole plot developed, and it's actually quite cool. Though it weirded me out when I transitioned to teenage girl handwriting when I did it. Hm.
Then I wrote my first Live From Studio Five blog. Check it out!
THEN I wrote on my Tumblr.
Now, I write in my quiet, domestic blog.
Because, Ah! As much as I would have loved to go to Farm Party, Erin couldn't, and now I get a whole day to recharge, not blast my liver, and prepare for coming adventures. I can read Moby Dick, The Ethical Slut, or my beloved, "Social Civics." I can nap unbounded, stay up watching Arrested Development, or go to bed early.
Then, tomorrow, I will be totally charged for my long awaited video game date. Well rested, and not hazed with other lovers and hang overs. So that maybe I will actually enjoy my video game experience. Granted they do actually share, and don't get bored after 20 minutes of Mario Kart because they are actually into video games, and would rather play some intricate role play for one person while I sit on the sidelines trying fretfully to follow the plot for some kind of entertainment as I simultaneously try not to gauge my eyes out with the assortment of writing utensils I can now carry freely in my new back pack...
I look forward to today.
Friday, October 5, 2012
The Illustrious Rise of Fannie Blough the Fifth
Haha, real jobs. Silly couple of weeks ago Lily.
Soon, I will be the official blogstress for the Liquid Music Blogosphere, and maybe even for KFAI's Live From Studio Five. I know I would be good at it, and this kind of exercise will be good for my writing skills. Though, I'm a bit slow to sign on my commitment, because I barely ever blog here, and when I do, it's not very exciting. But with these sites, I suppose I better know my audience...
I wish I would have Augsburg Blogged better...
Anyway. I can keep trying. The ongoing Auggie Saga.
I've been reeling over the Renaissance Festival, particularly this last weekend. It's all in a manic, whirlwind, intoxicant hazed blur, and now here I am.
After summer semester in the University of Life, I think I got a 2.5 in choices, a 3.5 in drinking, 4.0 in relationships (stumbled a little at first, but I got my shit together in the end for an excellent final project), and a 4.0 in Fun.
There's more that could be said, but I write today because with Fest over, I lament the good times and the good people I had only just had the chance to know, and then, days later, realize that it doesn't have to end.
You see,
At this moment, you are speaking to Fannie Blough. That's right, THE Fannie Blough the Fifth of Cocktail fame.
Story goes like this:
I'm sittin' on the Morris Knoll, nibblin', flirtin', and shmoozin' when a woman says, "You play trumpet?"
"Yeeah."
"Do you want to play in a rockin' girl band with boy dancers?"
"Hell yeah, I do!"
"Um. Are you ok with wearing a corset?"
"Hell yeah, I am!"
"Great! We're called, "The COCKtails."
"Hell yeah."
***
Today, I had my first practice.
The Cocktails consist of four women, all interconnected and incestuous amongst the local FOLK community. I get to play bawdy, traditional and fun dance music, dress up, plot the notorious tree of Family Blough, and hang out with some of the coolest people I have had the chance to meet in my short time here (the World).
My first Cocktail cocktail had chocolate ice-cream in it.
!!!
Lastly, a prayer:
Dear Universe,
As I hunker into my couch to stay up all night watching Sherlock Season Two, I want to say thank you for your generosity. After many years of questioning my identity, that of being jugglersexual, I finally decided to come out to the world, and openly pursue my true feelings. I said to you, "Oh Universe, please, help me find a juggler to call my own." And universe, you delivered... Not saying he, or any juggler should be, "mine" necessarily, but Universe, you gave me the strength and the opportunities to thrust myself into the juggler community. And I did. And it's fun.
Amen
Soon, I will be the official blogstress for the Liquid Music Blogosphere, and maybe even for KFAI's Live From Studio Five. I know I would be good at it, and this kind of exercise will be good for my writing skills. Though, I'm a bit slow to sign on my commitment, because I barely ever blog here, and when I do, it's not very exciting. But with these sites, I suppose I better know my audience...
I wish I would have Augsburg Blogged better...
Anyway. I can keep trying. The ongoing Auggie Saga.
I've been reeling over the Renaissance Festival, particularly this last weekend. It's all in a manic, whirlwind, intoxicant hazed blur, and now here I am.
After summer semester in the University of Life, I think I got a 2.5 in choices, a 3.5 in drinking, 4.0 in relationships (stumbled a little at first, but I got my shit together in the end for an excellent final project), and a 4.0 in Fun.
There's more that could be said, but I write today because with Fest over, I lament the good times and the good people I had only just had the chance to know, and then, days later, realize that it doesn't have to end.
You see,
At this moment, you are speaking to Fannie Blough. That's right, THE Fannie Blough the Fifth of Cocktail fame.
Story goes like this:
I'm sittin' on the Morris Knoll, nibblin', flirtin', and shmoozin' when a woman says, "You play trumpet?"
"Yeeah."
"Do you want to play in a rockin' girl band with boy dancers?"
"Hell yeah, I do!"
"Um. Are you ok with wearing a corset?"
"Hell yeah, I am!"
"Great! We're called, "The COCKtails."
"Hell yeah."
***
Today, I had my first practice.
The Cocktails consist of four women, all interconnected and incestuous amongst the local FOLK community. I get to play bawdy, traditional and fun dance music, dress up, plot the notorious tree of Family Blough, and hang out with some of the coolest people I have had the chance to meet in my short time here (the World).
My first Cocktail cocktail had chocolate ice-cream in it.
!!!
Lastly, a prayer:
Dear Universe,
As I hunker into my couch to stay up all night watching Sherlock Season Two, I want to say thank you for your generosity. After many years of questioning my identity, that of being jugglersexual, I finally decided to come out to the world, and openly pursue my true feelings. I said to you, "Oh Universe, please, help me find a juggler to call my own." And universe, you delivered... Not saying he, or any juggler should be, "mine" necessarily, but Universe, you gave me the strength and the opportunities to thrust myself into the juggler community. And I did. And it's fun.
Amen
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Verve
Quick blog to get my juices flowing as my coffee kicks in.
I need to power write two cover letters. They are both casual, so I need to be spunky and show my true self. All my spunk and verve. Because I truly am a rockstar.
I was productive yesterday too, I'm getting all my shit in order because I'm going to have a real job soon. I do hope it is soon. As soon as something sticks. Ah!
I need to power write two cover letters. They are both casual, so I need to be spunky and show my true self. All my spunk and verve. Because I truly am a rockstar.
I was productive yesterday too, I'm getting all my shit in order because I'm going to have a real job soon. I do hope it is soon. As soon as something sticks. Ah!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Happy Childhood
I had a very happy childhood.
I feel that I can look back with few regrets, and I wasn't terribly scarred.
Unfortunately, I do think much of what made my early youth so pleasurable, is now responsible for much of my young adult suffering. Mainly, the fact that I don't know how to cook for myself, or work a vacuum cleaner.
Yes, both of these examples are exaggerations, but today especially feels like a wake up call. I quit my job. I have some regrets, but I am really glad that I don't have to go back there. I need a job that doesn't lend itself so easily to whiskey breakfasts and a deep seeded loathing for humanity. "The sides are listed right where it says 'Signature Combos,' right there, which you must have seen because that's what you fucking ordered."
I also wanted my freedom.
How starry eyed of me.
I'm not going to starve. I just need to lay off my delicious food habit. Learn to cook. That's step one.
Step two is the bigger question of housing.
This apartment is NASTY.
It smells and no one cleans. It's dark. The shortage of windows make for little air flow. There is no microwave, blender, or supply of wash rags.
All taken for granted.
I've been distracted from this post.
I feel that I can look back with few regrets, and I wasn't terribly scarred.
Unfortunately, I do think much of what made my early youth so pleasurable, is now responsible for much of my young adult suffering. Mainly, the fact that I don't know how to cook for myself, or work a vacuum cleaner.
Yes, both of these examples are exaggerations, but today especially feels like a wake up call. I quit my job. I have some regrets, but I am really glad that I don't have to go back there. I need a job that doesn't lend itself so easily to whiskey breakfasts and a deep seeded loathing for humanity. "The sides are listed right where it says 'Signature Combos,' right there, which you must have seen because that's what you fucking ordered."
I also wanted my freedom.
How starry eyed of me.
I'm not going to starve. I just need to lay off my delicious food habit. Learn to cook. That's step one.
Step two is the bigger question of housing.
This apartment is NASTY.
It smells and no one cleans. It's dark. The shortage of windows make for little air flow. There is no microwave, blender, or supply of wash rags.
All taken for granted.
I've been distracted from this post.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I wish I could play trumpet at night
My room feels like a vacuum of creative energy.
That's not true, in the past couple weeks, this room has fostered the creation of THREE acrylic paintings (none of them finished yet, unfortunately) and at least a few hours of solid trumpet practicing... yet, when it has come to writing lately, I've been a void.
So today, I went to Merlin's Rest, where I sang sea shanties with Will, Alexa, and the rest of the shape note crew, or at least the ones that I know. It was fun (the first song they sang when I got there was General Taylor, which I know from my favorite Great Big Sea album). It's a slippery slope indeed, and the next thing I'll know, I'll be singing shapes on Tuesdays. They are all so nice, so open with hugs and acceptance, and the beauty, history and culture that the songs hold hits me in my core with every closing harmony.
I just saw a giant bug crawl by. Erin saw a bug this week, and said, "Ew, I hate ear wigs." I didn't think ear wigs existed up here, and the thought of them is terrifying. Ew. I hate ear wigs.
After singing I stayed at Merlin's, read a little bit from one of the zines I bought at Boneshaker, and then wrote a letter for the first time in a while over a tall glass of Pimms. Mmmm, Pimms, a summer drink made with Gin, oranges, strawberries, apples, mint and cucumbers.
From there, my writing energies still bubbled, but I knew that if I came back here, they'd allude me yet again, so I went to the C.C. Club for the first time. Pretty cool. Lots of bikes outside. Tattoos. Cake on the jukebox. I wrote another letter, and then became absorbed in a zine called, "The Last Words of a Fucking Asshole." Now, the cadence of the author's candid narrative still courses through my head.
Because it's so personal, and HAND WRITTEN, I feel the urge, a need even, to write back. Letters come easy to me, and I want to zine back and say, "I love the sound my bike makes when it doesn't shift right too, and I know what it feels like to be swept away by those fits of mania, can we get together and talk about seratonin some time?"
And this after only tonight expressing in letter one that I didn't like how my experience of zines thus far has mostly been people with creative illusions that think their lives are amusing... while at the same time struggling with the idea that my very own core philosophy rests on the necessity to share our stories, no matter how trivial.
My zine will have pictures.
I have a big day tomorrow, what with work and wooing, but I don't want to sleep. I'll find something to do. South Park, for example.
That's not true, in the past couple weeks, this room has fostered the creation of THREE acrylic paintings (none of them finished yet, unfortunately) and at least a few hours of solid trumpet practicing... yet, when it has come to writing lately, I've been a void.
So today, I went to Merlin's Rest, where I sang sea shanties with Will, Alexa, and the rest of the shape note crew, or at least the ones that I know. It was fun (the first song they sang when I got there was General Taylor, which I know from my favorite Great Big Sea album). It's a slippery slope indeed, and the next thing I'll know, I'll be singing shapes on Tuesdays. They are all so nice, so open with hugs and acceptance, and the beauty, history and culture that the songs hold hits me in my core with every closing harmony.
I just saw a giant bug crawl by. Erin saw a bug this week, and said, "Ew, I hate ear wigs." I didn't think ear wigs existed up here, and the thought of them is terrifying. Ew. I hate ear wigs.
After singing I stayed at Merlin's, read a little bit from one of the zines I bought at Boneshaker, and then wrote a letter for the first time in a while over a tall glass of Pimms. Mmmm, Pimms, a summer drink made with Gin, oranges, strawberries, apples, mint and cucumbers.
From there, my writing energies still bubbled, but I knew that if I came back here, they'd allude me yet again, so I went to the C.C. Club for the first time. Pretty cool. Lots of bikes outside. Tattoos. Cake on the jukebox. I wrote another letter, and then became absorbed in a zine called, "The Last Words of a Fucking Asshole." Now, the cadence of the author's candid narrative still courses through my head.
Because it's so personal, and HAND WRITTEN, I feel the urge, a need even, to write back. Letters come easy to me, and I want to zine back and say, "I love the sound my bike makes when it doesn't shift right too, and I know what it feels like to be swept away by those fits of mania, can we get together and talk about seratonin some time?"
And this after only tonight expressing in letter one that I didn't like how my experience of zines thus far has mostly been people with creative illusions that think their lives are amusing... while at the same time struggling with the idea that my very own core philosophy rests on the necessity to share our stories, no matter how trivial.
I have a big day tomorrow, what with work and wooing, but I don't want to sleep. I'll find something to do. South Park, for example.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Uptown girl... buh duh duh duhduh duhduh Uptown World
I've been a resident of Uptown for almost two weeks now, and where am I?
Hard Times.
The internet at my new place continues to be unsuccessful, and today, I met Erin for brunch at Seward Cafe. I'm feeling very post-grad, mobile, and existential.
I'm still reeling from the last couple weeks: My last paper (I had my first post-college anxiety dream, in which I woke up ((In the dream)) thinking, "OH NO! I DIDN'T ACTUALLY TURN IN THAT PAPER!!!")
My 22nd Birthday (Being 20 was so long ago! Will I be as cool as 25 year olds when I'm 25?)
Graduation (Still not really done... radio internship and all, but I don't want to pay for it).
Grandparents (They've been ridiculously old since I first met them in their 60s...)
AH! I LIVE IN AN APARTMENT, AND I HAVE ENOUGH LOANS TO SUPPORT A FAMILY OF 5 FOR AT LEAST 3 YEARS, AND I WANT TO RUN AWAY, BUT MAYBE I MISSED THE MANIA, AND WILL END UP STAYING IN MINNEAPOLIS YET ANOTHER WINTER.
When I got back from Grandparents', I went to a concert at the Nomad. Second Hand Ska Kings, Matt Wixon's flying Circus, STOP DROP, and ROCK STEADY BREAK FAST.
Lolololol.
I hope this doesn't come up if you google those bands... hm.
In that case, and in all seriousness, the whole show rocked. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, especially after I escaped the weird headspace that plagued me for the first hour.
You see... there's this particular woman... girl, really, who I've been loathing for about a month now. Blah blah blah, non-monogamy, ethics...
For a while, she haunted this whole neighborhood, and then, when I moved to Uptown, I'd see a blonde coming around the next block and brace myself to pounce. Eventually, I got sick of the anger, but wasn't able to really resolve it.
Until... Right before the show, I came to pregame on Coffee at Hard Times, and the blonde around the corner actually was her... and I hid.
But then, I emerged, was civil, and later told her that I am still really upset about the situation, but I don't want things to be bad... and now, while I may never see her again ever, I feel better. !
Life Starts on Tuesday. If a job equals a life... and if that job is fast food, if it really counts as anything...
Haha, actually, my fast food job is going to rock, and I'm really excited. I've been biking around more the last few days, so the 12 mile commute won't kick my butt. That won't really pick up for a while, and even when it does, the shifts are bearable... I wish I only needed the one job. :(
I hope to find another job serving somewhere so I can have funds to sit on in the fall, but I also want to get the most out of this free summer as possible.
Kfai internship. I will email Doug NOW.
Bicycles.
Hard Times.
The internet at my new place continues to be unsuccessful, and today, I met Erin for brunch at Seward Cafe. I'm feeling very post-grad, mobile, and existential.
I'm still reeling from the last couple weeks: My last paper (I had my first post-college anxiety dream, in which I woke up ((In the dream)) thinking, "OH NO! I DIDN'T ACTUALLY TURN IN THAT PAPER!!!")
My 22nd Birthday (Being 20 was so long ago! Will I be as cool as 25 year olds when I'm 25?)
Graduation (Still not really done... radio internship and all, but I don't want to pay for it).
Grandparents (They've been ridiculously old since I first met them in their 60s...)
AH! I LIVE IN AN APARTMENT, AND I HAVE ENOUGH LOANS TO SUPPORT A FAMILY OF 5 FOR AT LEAST 3 YEARS, AND I WANT TO RUN AWAY, BUT MAYBE I MISSED THE MANIA, AND WILL END UP STAYING IN MINNEAPOLIS YET ANOTHER WINTER.
When I got back from Grandparents', I went to a concert at the Nomad. Second Hand Ska Kings, Matt Wixon's flying Circus, STOP DROP, and ROCK STEADY BREAK FAST.
Lolololol.
I hope this doesn't come up if you google those bands... hm.
In that case, and in all seriousness, the whole show rocked. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, especially after I escaped the weird headspace that plagued me for the first hour.
You see... there's this particular woman... girl, really, who I've been loathing for about a month now. Blah blah blah, non-monogamy, ethics...
For a while, she haunted this whole neighborhood, and then, when I moved to Uptown, I'd see a blonde coming around the next block and brace myself to pounce. Eventually, I got sick of the anger, but wasn't able to really resolve it.
Until... Right before the show, I came to pregame on Coffee at Hard Times, and the blonde around the corner actually was her... and I hid.
But then, I emerged, was civil, and later told her that I am still really upset about the situation, but I don't want things to be bad... and now, while I may never see her again ever, I feel better. !
Life Starts on Tuesday. If a job equals a life... and if that job is fast food, if it really counts as anything...
Haha, actually, my fast food job is going to rock, and I'm really excited. I've been biking around more the last few days, so the 12 mile commute won't kick my butt. That won't really pick up for a while, and even when it does, the shifts are bearable... I wish I only needed the one job. :(
I hope to find another job serving somewhere so I can have funds to sit on in the fall, but I also want to get the most out of this free summer as possible.
Kfai internship. I will email Doug NOW.
Bicycles.
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