I Can Dig It

Whilst researching ballot measure 65 to ascertain my vote, I discovered that the Oregon state motto is:

"She flies with her own wings"

It doesn't help me determine my vote with regard to the open primary, but I think that's a pretty damn sweet motto.

Best Landscaping Business Name EVER

For the poor of vision, a closer look:


When I officially move up in the world to "bourgeois pig" status, I am totally hiring these guys.

Hurraher! & Hurrahest!

Sorry. Life is good.

1) ABBA's Voulez-Vous is the perfect 73 degree Friday morning drive to work soundtrack. A-HA! I freakin' love ABBA. So very much. Their Swedish pop genius is a joy to behold. Behear? Eh. Why is there no sincere optimism in pop music anymore? Am I missing something? Tell me. Is there a contemporary equivalent to the sincere refrain of "I believe in angels/Something good in everything I see"?

2) I'm wearing sandals for the first time this year - & they're my lovely gold sparkly cork wedge sandals, to boot. Er, no pun intended.

(Lengthy parenthetical aside revealing my etymological dorkiness & alarming passion for punctuation:

("The boot in [the phrase 'to boot'] is pretty much the only surviving sense of a once prominent word. Some archaic or obsolete senses are 'advantage; profit; use' ('O spare they happy daies, and them apply/To better boot'--Spenser, Faerie Queen); 'something given in a sale or exchange to equalize the value of the exchange' (now only used in dialect, in America found chiefly in the south); and 'deliverance from evil or danger' (often in the phrase boot of bale 'relief from woe').

("The phrase ['to boot'] uses [the word 'boot'], in a sense like 'to the good; to advantage', and hence 'in addition; besides; moreover'. This particular boot is from Old English, and is related to better."

(The above explanation can be found in full, & with fewer parentheses/brackets, here.)

3) On Wednesday I made a decision which makes me molto contenta. I ain't tellin'. The action won't happen until 2011 anyway. Let's just say that I hope in three years the dollar/euro exchange rate is a bit more in my favor.

4) Said decision involved the more immediate decision to look for a part-time job. That same day, I found a listing for a part-time video store job, 12 - 14 hours a week, in NW Portland. I dropped my resume off that night, interviewed yesterday, & start working on Saturday. Yeah, I rock. Y'know, my favorite job ever was at a video store. This new one has the benefit of not being in rural Oregon, which gives me relative confidence that the following exchange is highly unlikely to occur:

Customer returning The Talented Mr. Ripley, which I had recommended to him the night before: I didn't like this movie.
Me: Oh, I'm sorry.
Him: It was about faggots.
Me: Well, yes, I suppose that's true.
Him: That's sick.
Me: Some people think so.
Him: You don't?
Me: No, I don't.
Him: Are you a dyke?

Yes indeedy. You can't make this stuff up, people. So...I'm going to get paid to talk about movies & clean & organize shelves stuffed with movies. It makes my movie-loving, compulsively clean & systematic self well-nigh giddy. Oh, yeah, plus I get free movies. I mean, I could probably get a better-paying part-time job. But the way I look at it, I already have one job for which I don't much care. If I'm gonna have a second job, I better damn well like it. And this is...perfect.

5) Also, this is entirely politically irresponsible of me, because I know absolutely nothing about his governorship, but goddamn. Whenever I remember that we live in a world where Arnold motherfuckin' Schwarzenegger is the GOVERNOR OF CALIFORNIA, things get just a little more...sparkly. I love it, I do, I confess. I don't think you could dream up something more deliciously absurd. Hee hee! Related: the commentary track for Conan the Barbarian is the single most fantastic commentary I've ever heard. Easily as good as the movie proper. (Governator: "She's so hot. I'm so hot in this scene" John Milius: "She's like a...Valkyrie." Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Surely they were both drunk. Schwarzenegger is a total chauvinist, which I inexplicably love.)

Hurrah!

These are some things that I particularly love today:

1) Peppermint tea

2) The Criterion transfer of Naked. It even looks good on my old TV set.

3) Dinosaur L (I said NO, thank yooouuuu....)

4) Mmmmmangoes!

5) Feelin' like a fourth grader. Yep, in my quest to prove that April Model 1978 is in fact completely obsolete, my newest fascination is book making. See, it occurred to me recently that at present I seem to be drawn toward the tactile. Rather than subvert these fascinations into something more ephemeral, I thought well why not just make things I can touch? I ain't a writer, & my drawing skillz are stuck in stick-figure land (tho' it be a mean stick figure indeed), but I see no reason whatsoever to let that stop me. I made a book last night! With velcro & wiggly eyes & o-rings & junk mail! (I successfully fought the urge to add glitter.) Here's a small detail of one page:


As usual, my grand plans exceed my technical capability by a wide margin. Sheesh. We'll see. You don't know how much I want to catch one of these flitting momentary obsessions & pin it down, already. How is it possible that the older I get, the less attention span I have?

6) Portland Maps. I often bemoan the fact that everybody in my neighborhood looks like me. What do I mean by this? While Buckman ain't quite an army of April clones, it is a 739-acre area with 7,923 people who:

• Are most likely between the ages of 22 & 39 (52%)
• Are whiter than an arctic glacier on a sunny day (81%)
• Have yet to breed &/or are not overly keen on cohabitation (52% one-person households)
• Got no strings to hold them down (84% are not home-owners)
• Stand a solid chance of being male (52%) or female (48%)
  

I am a 29-year-old child-free white girl who lives alone in a rented apartment. Thanks, Portland Maps, for proving me right!

7) Spring. Not this spring, this year, this here. But in general. And SUNSHINE. Glorious rich yellow sunshine that is both absorbed & reflected by the green of the trees & the grass.

8) Making the soundtrack for the wedding I will never have. See, it all started with Kid Creole's version of "If You Want to be Happy". If you don't know the song, click the link. You'll understand. The vision of playing this as the first song at my unwedding made me gigle giggle (no semiconductor, I) madly for endless minutes (the looks on people's faces would be freakin' priceless), so I thought, why stop there? This project is saving me from an increasingly bilious resentment toward other people's weddings; therefore, it makes me happy.

9) And actually, I kind of love everything. Probably in theory - I wouldn't test me with, say, a puddle of puppies or a basket of babies. But I am, how you say, a happy camper.

AMAZING

At some point this summer I've got plans to visit the places where the exteriors for the "Twin Peaks" pilot episode were shot. You know, the biggies: the Great Northern, the falls, etc.

Somebody has done all the work in finding the locations for me. They even found the friggin' branch upon which the bird in the opening credits perched.

In Twin Peaks for the photo comparisons; More In Twin Peaks for the actual locations.

Wow. I'm super-psyched.

White People! Get Funky!

Ohmanohmanohman. HOT CHIP. If you didn't see 'em in the last month, too bad, unless you live in San Francisco or are attending Coachella, because their U.S. tour is otherwise ovah. (I suspect they'll be back through before too long, though.) Holy cow. I saw 'em at the Doug Fir in November 2006 & was suitably impressed by their fantastic-ness. But last night! Oh, last night. They were...magnificent.

Portland must have some fairly ridiculous laws involving concert venues & alcohol, because nearly every place with live music is 21+. Being old & crotchety, I have no problem with this. I don't want my overpriced beer jostled by a passel of hyperactive young 'uns wearing too much eyeliner. The Crystal Ballroom, however, is one of the few all-ages venues in town. It's a weird set-up - the stage is in a corner. The room is "vertically" divided in half by a low black barrier. If you want beer, you have to be in the half that's further from the main stage. If you want to hang out with high schoolers, you can be in the half that's right by the stage. Hmm...beer or teenagers? I choose beer. Luckily we arrived early enough to score prime spots right up against the divider. So I could put down my sweater & my purse & just freak out. PLUS have a great view of the stage. It was sweet.

The opening act was Free Blood, which has some correlation with !!!. They're a duo - let's call them Mr. Beard & Adorable Brunette Girl With Bangs. All the music was pre-recorded, although they did bring out a guy on guitar for a couple numbers. It was altogether too reminiscent of karaoke for my taste. In a sense, that's the point, but when I think about, say, Jamie Lidell live...well, he twiddles his knobs while he's singing. And alls by hisself, at that. Free Blood's performance made me feel at least two shades pastier white than I already am. Plus, when they danced together onstage, it inexplicably looked to me like some sort of chicken mating ritual. The music was fine, & I will totally listen to their album when it comes out, but the live show felt unnecessary.

Anyway, Hot Chip put on what is easily one of my top ten favorite shows of all time. Mebbe even top five. They. Fucking. Rocked. Christ on crutches. I was a four-on-the-floor booty-shaking machine out there. Up down all around. The band arrangement was different this time. At the Doug Fir, it was mostly five guys rockin' out behind keyboards. Last night only Joe Goddard was manning a board. They played more like a typical band - guitar, drums, etc. Plus, maracas! Oh yeah. The lights were good, the sound was good, the band was great. It gave me a whole new appreciation for the most recent album, Made in the Dark, with which I'd previously had some problems. And, ooh, the only song they played from their debut album Coming On Strong just so happened to be my favorite song from that album - "Crap Kraft Dinner". Because really, who does have time for a jack-your-body loser? But I think my favorite moment was during the encore performance of "No Fit State" when they dropped my favorite part of New Order's "Temptation" in there - "Oh you've got green eyes/Oh you've got blue eyes/Oh you've got grey eyes...". (Although, erm, technically speaking, every part of "Temptation" is my favorite part.)

You know, Hot Chip may only be going to heaven if it tastes like caramel, but me - I'm only going to heaven if Hot Chip is there. I hope they let me shake the maracas. I am nothing if not a funky white girl.

LOL

Shit like this is what teh internets are fucking made for...

Song charts. How did I not know about this? I'm glaring at you, Mandy.

You can't beat that one for sheer simple brilliance, but I'm also partial to this:

Which reminds me, I need Blur back in my life. To the Music Millennium!

These Shoes Sing To My Soul

This is the present I awarded myself after I managed to select a pair of boring plain brown flats (for comfortable non-sneakered city walking) without crying or throwing up:


Lots more views are available here. I wish Zappos weren't so expensive (for ince, I picked these up on clearance at DSW for $42 less than what they're charging), because I would dearly love to support their shoe pornography on a financial basis.

And yes. This post's title is an accurate recount of the exact words that came into my mind when I saw these. What can I say? They were made just for me.

Also, let the record show that I indulged in mad shopping this weekend past & purchased not one single sparkly thing. Marvel at my self-restraint. Bow down before my greatness.

Finally, speaking of sparkly...I spasmed when I saw these. If I ever see them on sale I will buy them, but they are waaaayyy too impractical for me to throw $100 at 'em.

LOL It's Almost Caturday!

You know what sucks? Arriving at work on the leap day of a leap year & remembering of a sudden that the last time it was leap day, you were gallivanting about Rome, hunting down the Tomb of the Baker. Which might not be quite as depressing for you, if Rome be not your heimat, but it sure as spit bums me out. At least Mr. Leap Day has the decency to be Friday...

Also, I recall what happened right after that trip, which would be the first, last & particularly debilitating case of bronchitis I acquired on the plane ride home. Seriously, I thought it was SARS. My favorite memory of that illness would be the day it took me literally three hours to work up the energy to get out of bed, walk 15 feet to the bathroom to grab a bottle of cold medicine, & stumble back to bed only to realize with dismay that I'd snagged the completely wrong bottle of cold medicine. I cried. And I had this bizarre lingering throat affliction which took four months & five medications to clear up. Actually I also cried when the ENT specialist gave me that last set of meds, because having swallowed four consecutive courses of pills & then being told your fifth involves huge pinky-thick things that appear to be made for horses, while your throat screams in severely swollen pain...is not as fun as it may sound. Ah, whatever.

On a happier note, it was decided last night that if anybody knows of a more perfect combination than eating a brie-n-butter baguette sandwich whilst sipping lemongrass soda & watching M. Hulot's Holiday, well, you can KEEP IT TO YO'SELF. The committee for wonderfulness is officially Not Interested. (N.B. The tennis scene made me laugh harder than anything since, okay, well, since This is Spinal Tap played at the Laurelhurst a couple of weeks ago. But still. Ridiculously funny. Highly recommended.)

And Mandy, re: your comment on my 23 July 2007 post - you have no idea. From December through about last week, I was getting approximately 300 hits a day on that post. Which is a lot for this silly piffle of a blog & means that, like, thousands of people around the world have now seen what puts the cleav after the captain. Whatever. I find it entirely amusing. (My personal fave comment, though, happened last summer IRL when I wore that dress to a wedding reception & my beloved friend Colin remarked, "I'm gay & I can't stop staring." Man, I miss my PA bitches.) At least it's slowed as quickly & inexplicably as it started, or else I might have to get all analytical about what it means. And then the poor little pea that lives in my skull would go 'round & 'round in circles until I got a nasty headache & I'd need a hot toddy & a roomful of pastel-hued soft fluffy things to calm me down.

Mmm...pastel-hued soft fluffy things...and...

The question is, will I never grow weary of lolcats?

"BE ADEQUITE". Please.

Remember a few years ago, when Lindsay Lohan was teh hotness for about five minutes? Wasn't that great? I even had her 2006 calendar. (And, um, if I'd known that I could've sold it in 2008 for $40, I wouldn't have trashed the damned thing when I moved.)


Sigh. I hadn't even made it to March by the time THIS happened:


Um, ew. And a none-more-black darkness spread across the land accompanied by an increasingly distressing series of incidents & pictures. Those creepy knife pics. The passed-out-in-a-car pics. The "no really, officer, there is coke in my pants, but they aren't my pants" story. And so on. Topped off, of course, with the obligatory mugshot:


Just look at that top picture. Now look at the mugshot. I could cry.

But wait! don't give up yet! there's more! A fellow by the name of Bert Stern apparently took some quite famous pictures of Marilyn Monroe shortly before her death. New York magazine recently sang him the sweet siren song of a paycheck in exchange for a "remake" with a contemporary starlet. Illud est, Our Miss Lohan. Now, that whole Monroe patina of myth has always bemused me. I fail to discern the fabulosity. And I find both the original & new flavor of Mr. Stern's pictures drearily jejune. However!


Ladies & gentlemen, the bones are gone & the boobs are back. Hallelujah! Now she just needs to ditch the blond & go back to red, already. And to stop dressing like a coked-out skank. Or even better, to not speak or go out in public for the next year or so, so that websites like this one aren't funny anymore & Defamer can't put together (admittedly hilarious) collages of her non-sober faces.

Keep On, Just Keep On Pressin' On

Here is my new toy:

It is called a "TTUSB Turntable with USB" & it plugs right into my laptop. I just hit "play" on the player & "record" in the audio software program & presto wow! magic happens & the music is on my computer. The only real bitches so far are the absences of a cueing lever & a dust cover. Also, I should probably give it some hot new stylus action because the one it came with is kinda chintzy. (I'm currently lusting after the Numark CS-1 Carl Cox Signature Model Stylus.) But it does have some anti-skate & pitch control goodness, & with a bit o' wrangling you can digitize 78s too. It's also got a 1/8" stereo mini-jack connector which you can use to transfer cassette tapes. Sweet! It does what I expected it to at the price I could afford & I love it. LOVE LOVE LOVE. It is so easy to use. Vastly superior to the other uber-complicated way I know how to make vinyl into digital thingamabobs. I haven't fucked much with all the settings & effects & whatnots, so I don't know what I can do with the sound yet besides normalize it & execute some light noise removal, but I'm pleased. Particularly since I can now easily make CDs out of my 12-inches, which is very convenient. These, then, are the first tracks with which I meddled (& yes, they are in the exact order in which I magicked them to my computer, so forgive any lack of, uh, smooth transitions):

download 'em here. you'll be sorry if you don't.

01. "Double Dutch Bus" - Frankie Smith
I've got my funky bus fare. HO!
02. "Give Your Body Up To The Music (Larry Levan Mix)" - Billy Nichols
Sadness. I didn't know that Mel Cheren (the West End Records & Paradise Garage big cheese) passed away in December 2007.
03. "Right There In The Socket" - Shalamar
Feel that e-lec-tricity.
04. "Need Somebody New (Larry Levan Mix)" - Jamaica Girls
A promo 12" with Larry Levan mixes on Arthur Russell's Sleeping Bag label. I experience fierce nerd paroxysms every time I touch this.
05. "Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll (Pt. 1)" - Vaughan Mason & Crew
"Roller skaters one in front & one behind/Bounce left, bounce right/It's disco time" INDEED.
06. "New York Movin'" - Ahzz
Gotta love Peter Brown. And this song.
07. "These Memories" - Oh Romeo
Produced by the legendary & legend-in-his-own-mind Bobby O. My mind thinks it's funny to replace "memories" with "mammaries" for some bizarre reason. Yeah.
08. "Dolce Vita (Radio Mix)" - Donnie Grillo
Very nearly ungoogleable. 'Cause I rock it all obscure-like.
09. "Keep On (Francois Kevorkian & Hubert Eaves III Mix)" - "D" Train
Four minutes & thirty six seconds into this, try to imagine that you're in a room above a Ukrainian restaurant in NYC's Lower East Side where 200 people of literally all ages, colors, shapes, etc. have come together for seven hours of sheer unadulterated dancing bliss with balloons, food & the man who was instrumental in forging the paths of both dance music & the modern DJ, starting back in 1970 with the very first Love Saves the Day party in his loft. I could write ten thousand million words & never even begin to properly convey it. The two times I was able to attend number amongst the most spiritually transcendent & ecstatic experiences of my life. (No jest or hyperbole, for reals.) "Reach, reach, reach/You're almost there." This is disco.

The End Of Hair (Promise)

So here's what my $60 different-but-not-too-different haircut looks like:



The pics are kinda crap; however, I hate flash & am too damned exhausted to get my tripod & use more suitable settings. If I have time, I'll take some shots in the daylight & replace, but I wanted to document it before I pass out & ruin that fresh-from-the-hairdresser loveliness. Basically, Scott "textured" it (which seems to mean subtle layers), cut it short in the back, started to angle the front, & then did that fringe-y side bang action (which I LOVE). It's not colored...yet...though I may actually skip that for now. I think the style is rather well-suited to my natural color.

I love the salon, I love my hairdresser, I love the cut, although we're gonna grow it out a bit over the next few months. What really sealed the deal, however, was that afterward I was strolling down Hawthorne, rockin' my new hair, when a random cute girl smiled at me & said "You look great!" as we passed each other on the sidewalk. How often does that happen? Unless I've been missing out on a world of strangers haphazardly handing out compliments to each other with no ulterior motive.

And, y'know, it was true. I did look great. The ensemble overall was nicely put together if I do say so myself, but the hair was definitely the buttercream on the genoise.

Place Rack In Upper Half Of Oven & Preheat To 375 Degrees

I bought the most fantastic product today at the Alberta Co-op. It's called "Aura Glow". I don't know an awful lot about Edgar Cayce. All I know is, right now...right at this very second...

I smell like a friggin' ALMOND CROISSANT.

The baker in me is mad with glee.

Proof Pudding

Look! I can win at bowling! At least two games in a row! That makes three games I've won, ever. I think that merits a big ol' w00t!!!1!!1!




*Sniff*. I'm so proud of me. Um, I'm the kraut if you couldn't figure. Thanks to the mick for the pics.

Blessed Art Thou; Or, It's Totally Your Lucky Day!

Gather the blankets & glasses of milk, bring the cookies if you got 'em, because it's time for a little story. (Mandy, stop pulling my hair & settle down!) Go back, back, waaaaay back here, to the big bang, aka the genesis of this here blog-thing. Following the standard "Hey world friends! This is my blog! Hey!" post, the very first thing I wrote about was a filmmaker by the name of Phil Solomon. The words were few, succinct (I used to try!) & heartfelt (to the max, Phil. Heh. I've hardly begun to exhaust my repertoire). What I did not mention was that I had actually had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Solomon on more than one occasion, in more than one state (& I use "state" with more than one meaning, naturally), over the course of several years. I even chauffeured him to TJ's house - that would be Thomas Jefferson's Monticello, for those who aren't hip to the C-ville slang - in a pick-up in, I think, 2004. Alas! sadly, that had been the last of it.

Until very recently, when Mr. Solomon found my feeble little post about him & left me a wonderful comment, which gave me a case of the warm fuzzies you wouldn't believe. Subsequently, memories were jogged & communications (re-)established. All to your benefit, friends, as I've laid my grubby little paws on clips from some of his films!

Now, I realize that I am slightly inclined toward hyperbole. I am simply helpless in the face of that with which I am enthralled, be it positively or negatively. My words can be a minefield of superlatives. However! If you took the whole of every aggrandizing statement I've ever made, every command & must & implore & love & amazing & so forth, & you put them in a mortar & mashed them to a splendidly redolent paste, the resulting bouquet would still not do these films justice.

My limited mind knows not how to provide a better introduction. Tell me you believe me. Better yet, just watch the clips. I provide them to you out of love. (And if you love me, you'll watch them, bitches.) Yes, they are necessarily but pale ghosts of the films entire; but after all, as Double Exposure so well put it, "Ten percent of something/It beats one hundred percent of nothing at all"!

The Passage of the Bride

Clepsydra

The Exquisite Hour

Nocturne

Remains To Be Seen

Seasons....

The Secret Garden

What's Out Tonight is Lost

Yes, I Said Yes, I Will, Yes

Psalm III: Night of the Meek

The Snowman

Psalm II: Walking Distance

Happy-Makers 2007 12 19

(You'll probably have to make the pictures bigger to get the full effect here.)

Why I love my video store:


There are also three shelves of "Demons, Devils & Their Worshipers".

Why I love my scary neighbors:


Yeah. That's Santa Claus. On a motorcycle. I know it's a terrible picture, but they are my scary neighbors, so I didn't want to get too close or use a flash, even if I made sure their lights were out. I never thought I'd miss tacky Christmas decorations; but I did. And they filled the void! I like to stand on my porch & ponder Bad-Ass Santa.

Boompty Boomp!

I clearly need more friends who like house music.

Derrick fucking Carter is playing at my house, dammit! It's funny, 'cause I've definitely missed out on a lot of DJs around here - Mark Farina, DJ Dan, etc. - that I really do love (well, I gotta say, I stopped with DJ Dan after about six or seven CDs, because, um, they actually do all sound the same). Anyway, generally speaking, while I enjoy listening to them, most house mixes are too damn fast for my tired old body to even contemplate keeping up with in a live setting. So I've just kind of skipped 'em.

But...I mean...it's DERRICK CARTER. House Music Legend (tm). He's boompty, not "boom-chk-boom-chk-boom-chk". Shit, he created the boompty boomp. He's got a track about friends & tater tots, people! He's just adorable & I love him madly. And the show's only fifteen dollars.


Sigh. I don't really want to go alone, but I just might have to. Damn PDX indie kids.

Say Hello!

Meet Jasper, my darling new car. Jasper is a 2007 Toyota Corolla LE (the "L" is for luxury, people). It was love at first sight. That & the fact that I'm a sucker for a pretty face with under 17K miles on it. Jasper is more accustomed to the finer things in life than was the Road Warrior, so I expect to drop a bit more moolah on him, but you know, I think he's worth it.

Without further ado:

The color was key. Ever since I bought the silver Road Warrior, I'd been envious of the gunmetal gray Toyotas. Really, aren't Corollas boring enough without having a dull color to compound it?

Power windows were a non-negotiable must.

Oh the luxury of faux-wood paneling! My heart quivers.

And I would be remiss if I failed to remark upon the coup de grace, the feature that was my heart's secret desire:

Remote key entry, oh yeah!

I will always have a special love for the Road Warrior - it was, after all, not only the very first car I'd ever bought, but also its very purchase was at the time a wonderfully freeing & empowering action. But Jasper is like the Road Warrior squared. I am pleased.

Rendered Speechless

Amanda Palmer played at Berbati's Pan last night. Since I still haven't forgotten the occasion on which Los Amigos Invisibles started their show right on time with nary an opening act, I made sure to show up as close to 9:30 p.m. as I could. Shit, I even drove.

So naturally, there were opening acts. The first was a rather twee-sounding five-piece from, I'm guessing, Seattle. They sounded lovely & all, but I think my problem with them is aptly summed up with my reaction to the girl singer - I found her Feist-ish & irritatingly adorable. Like, she was really cute, but looked kinda like she sweats tea & has a ruffled bedskirt. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but Amanda Palmer could have made that girl crumple just by looking at her. Also, I always get a little pissy when all the people playing instruments are dudes, & the chick is just up there singing. You probably wouldn't snap in half if you picked up a guitar, sweetie. Or hell, a tambourine. An odd choice of band. I didn't catch their name, unfortunately.

After they were finished, I went off to the smoking area of Berbati's Pan. While I was standing there, Amanda Palmer came out of the bathroom! We had a weird moment! She walked in my general direction & then looked at me & we locked eyes. I felt like she expected me to say something, but literally the only things I could think of were "I love you" & "You're shorter than I would have guessed". Both of which seemed completely inappropriate in totally different ways, so I managed to choke them back & limit myself to a sort of half-smile. Probably the same one that shows up on my Oregon driver's license, making me look retarded. AWESOME.

I thoroughly enjoyed the next act, Estradasphere. You haven't lived until you've heard Slash's guitar solo from "Sweet Child O' Mine" on the violin, let me tell you. They're actually really awesome, but this was probably the funniest thing that happened all night:


(Okay, so that's not the performance from last night, but close enough. I saw the video & the accordion player's "sign language" interpretation.)

They stayed on stage to accompany Palmer's set. What can I say? She really is fabulous. Last night she was wearing a lovely mocha-colored coat dress, the bottom half unbuttoned, & worn striped stockings with a black garter belt & black rufflebutt panties. (For the encore she lost the coat dress & added a Black Sabbath t-shirt.) Apparently, she's recording a solo album with, *cough*, Ben Folds (I'm trying to not hold it against you, darlin'), but she's also up in Seattle recording some stuff for it with Estradasphere. It's not a tour - as she said at one point, they'd been on tour for a whole eight hours. I'm pretty sure it's just 'cause she likes Portland. She hinted vaguely at it when she said, "This city is fucking awesome." The show overall was delightfully disorganized. She did a couple of Brecht covers (I've always liked Brecht a great deal - it's Brechtianism I tend to find overly pedantic & dull). She also played the astronaut song that she played almost exactly a year ago at the Crystal Ballroom, & it made me cry again. I know. So weird. Turns out that she had actually written the song the day of the Crystal Ballroom show.


(Again, not the performance from last night.)

Also, they did a cover of a Madonna song (one from the first album, can't remember the name), & she got down off the stage & touched my arm! I think Amanda Palmer is in love with me. Imagine the possibilities. We could run off together & play My Little Ponys & shop for garter belts & stockings. It would be fierce. It would be girly.

It would be beautiful.

April, Er, tiegkopf88, Published Photographer

So this thing called "Schmap" requested permission to use two of my photos for their 4th edition Portland guide...you can see the pics here & here (check the upper right hand corner after clicking on each link).

Sure, I didn't get paid, the pictures are tiny (though if you click on them they take you to my Flickr page) & even though I asked them to credit me using my real name, they used my oh-so-clever webonym...

But still! Somebody who isn't me & doesn't know me thought my pictures were useful/pretty enough to use on a website for a travel guide! I'm happy as a clam. Today, much like the past few days, has been a huge roller coaster of awesome highs & sucky lows, particularly for someone who's become accustomed to riding the Ferris Wheel of life.

True to form, I'm both pleased & annoyed with this change; but this one here is a good thing.