So Much Awesome In Only 52 (or so) Hours

i believe i'll bullet-point the weekend for convenience's sake, so here we go. all this for $10 and a tank of gas...

• friday i found out i won tickets to the incredible burt wonderstone through a friend's website. (if you don't know drew, and are a fan of magic and/or theatricality, go here.) this meant i got to get out of my house (for free!) and catch up with some old friends. the movie was actually much better than i expected, i met some cool new people, and i may have made a tutoring connection. excellent all-around evening.

• saturday morning i worked, as usual. but because one of my students cancelled, i got out an hour early and had time to take a nap.  i picked up c around 6 and we headed out to melbourne for a st. patrick's day street party. we scored rock star parking (for only $5 - which is seriously impressive if you're used to living in orlando) and headed over. it was a typical small-town street party: not terribly exciting, but rife with outstanding people-watching opportunities. and people with monumental mustaches. 

• the whole point of traveling to melbourne, of course, was to see cowboy mouth. if you don't know my love for this band, well, clearly we've not met. and you don't read this blog. they put on one of the best live shows you'll ever see. and they delivered, as usual. which is extra amazing when you consider that they just played d.c. 10 hours earlier to kick off the rock and roll marathon. so they were clearly tired and road-weary and all the rest, and still kicked ass. i wasn't sure what to expect crowd-wise, but there were several fans there, so that was cool. also, because the stage was tiny and we were up front (because where else would i be?), we were thisclose to the band - which made for even more interaction than usual. so much awesome. cm shows are such a catharsis, and since the past month or so has been one big ball of stress, i was overdue for a good release. 

• sometime saturday i learned via twitter that neil gaiman and amanda palmer were trying to do a ninja gig somewhere in sarasota on sunday. this is just over 2 hours away from me, and i waffled back and forth for hours sunday morning. do i go? can i really justify two road trips in one weekend? i mean, my little car is the most awesome piece of vehicular machinery ever (no hyperbole; just truth), but it is getting older and i hate adding to its stress. finally, i decided that if i didn't go, i'd probably regret it. and i was right. the show was at 2 at ringling college, and i figured i should probably leave at 11. after all the back-and-forthing with myself, i ended up leaving around 11:30. traffic was going well and i was feeling confident i'd arrive with enough time to figure out where on the campus i was going, when i4 came to a dead stop. absolute parking lot. for about 45 minutes. eventually it cleared, and i hurried on, afraid i'd miss the show. i arrived about 35 minutes late, just as neil began reading a selection. there's something innately magical about listening to an author read his own work to a spell-bound crowd. i'm sure the fact that it was neil gaiman reading only intensified the effect. afterward, he and amanda took questions from the crowd, which ranged from, "can you help me repair a friendship i messed up?" to "do you guys have to deal with carpel tunnel?" the conversation between them and the crowd went from inspirational to silly to philosophical and was lovely. i was interested (and pleased) to note that when amanda asked the audience, "who feels like they are doing what they are meant to do?", i found my self raising my hand and (more importantly) believing it. i may barely be making ends meet, and i may not be doing ALL of what i'm meant to, but i'm certainly doing some good. q & a ended, amanda sang a fantastic song about the power of the ukulele and, much too soon, it was all over. afterward, there was a group photo - with ukuleles, clearly - and i even got a selfie with neil. i totally had a (mostly internal) fangirl-like moment, which is SO not me, but it happened. his works have had a great impact on my life, from the first Death comic a friend gave me when i was a teenager, to his novels that make me think and question, to the short stories i once taught my 9th graders at CHS. and so i squee'd inside for a good hour afterward (and out loud in my car once for good measure). 

• one of the most unexpected and excellent things that came of this gig happened at the book table. amanda encouraged a book swap, so i found 6 books - mostly from my old classroom library - to go on to better lives. one of these books was dealing with dragons by patricia c. wrede. as the books tumbled out of my bag to join the others on the table, the girl next to me let out a gasp and touched dealing with dragons reverently. "i haven't read this since i was a kid! oh, cimorene..." "it's yours," i said. "done. take it." i could tell by the look on her face that she had just been reunited with a childhood best friend. it was heartwarming to see her reaction, to know that others are just as deeply affected by a stranger's words as i am. i loved seeing someone react to a book the way i would react to seeing a ramona quimby, age 8 or so you want to be a wizard. and i'm so glad i was able to give that reunion to her, because i know what it would've meant to me. (and now i've got to go find another copy of that book; truth be told, i don't think i'd ever actually read it, and seeing the reaction it garnered? definitely deserves a perusal.)

• after all that, i decided to head to a beach. i was right on the coast, after all, and shorelines are my grounding places. so i went and i walked and i breathed; and then i shook the sand off my feet and put my chucks back on and went home. 

so that was my weekend. random and joyous and unexpected, and so very much what i needed. i did end up with a narrow - but very angry - strip of sunburn on my neck from the i4 incident. it's not pretty, and i'm just hoping it doesn't blister. but that's insignificant. (at least to the weekend, if not to my skin.) my pile of good stuff far outweighed my pile of bad stuff, and i am very, very grateful for it.

Days Don't Get Much Better

so this friday? pretty much a perfect day.  not even the random fallout of small, bitey crustaceans hitching a ride in my car and ravaging my legs and any other uncovered skin for a few days ruined the awesomeness.

sometimes i have questionable ideas, and i thought (as i drove east-bound at quarter-to-5 in the morning) that getting up WAY before the crack of dawn to drive to the beach for sunrise was one of them.  turns out, it was an excellent idea. this was my view as i arrived:

i went to playalinda beach on the space coast. there was NO ONE. anywhere. at all. sometime around 9 am, i finally had some neighbors, waaaaaaaaaaaaay down the beach. it was blissful. after watching the sunrise and eating a cupcake for breakfast, i read for a little while. 

afterwards, i drove through a wildlife preserve, and admired the local flora and fauna. i actually saw a baby bobcat on the way to the preserve, but wasn't quick enough to catch it with my camera.

then i headed home, but not before discovering an adorable little gluten-free bakery in cocoa.

home, shower, nap. i got up, all refreshed-like, and got ready to go out. agr was playing at the hard rock hotel, out by the pool. so i threw on a sundress, actually did my hair and put on make up, and met up with charissa and ivana. turns out, there was some rum-sponsored party happening out there by the pool, and as such we got two free drinks for the evening, just for showing up. excellent. i got to hang out, listen to some of my favorite musicians, hang out with eric for a bit, and just generally relax and chill. at some point, c decided she wanted to jump in the pool, but she was wearing jeans. we reasoned that if she jumped in with a tank top and underwear, she'd be perfectly acceptable. but she still hemmed and hawed. so i offered to jump in, too. i mean, why not? i had a dress on, so it didn't seem like that big a deal. so we did. because we're ridiculous.

and spent the rest of the time listening to the band whilst in the pool. thoroughly enjoyable day.

Why This Weekend Rocked

it's been a really long time since I've been able to say I had an amazing weekend, start to finish. not that my weekends suck or anything - but I usually work saturday mornings, and don't do much else. there's nothing wrong with that, but for the first time in a really long time i could answer the question "how was your weekend?" with "it was amazing!" (ironically, it was the first time in a really long time that no one actually asked me that question on a monday. go figure.) reasons for extreme fantasticalness are as follows:

• i did not have to work at huntington on saturday morning, which meant no alarm to wake me up. blissful.
• watched some highlander and napped the rest of the day.
• met up with eric at the florida music festival that night. got in for free, too - without any effort on my part. sometimes it pays to be a cute girl.
• ping-ponged the ends of wall street, listened to some good music - and some not-so-good, but such is life - and laughed a lot.
• i was coming off the worst anxiety attack i'd had in years, and wasn't sure how i'd handle the crowd and chaos. turns out that, in general, when eric's around, i'm good. i am so invested in talking and laughing with him in the moment that i don't really notice anything else, so it doesn't bother me. being with him just makes my soul happy.
• sunday i met jen, chris, sandy, and the kidlings for fun at the magic kingdom.
• i love being aunt karen. it is awesome to be loved like that. gray was so excited to see me he bounced up and down and he literally shook with excitement. granted, he also reacts that way to seeing mickey mouse and riding a train, but whatever - i'll take it.
• i miss jen a lot - she really is my "fake sister". luckily her real sister and i get along great too... i have so much fun with both of them.
• chris's cousin and her family joined us half-way through the day - they were excellent people and fun to hang out with.
• left the kingdom around 10, completely exhausted but centered and happy.

I Love My People

paul, a friend from high school, was in town on a job. he and his his co-pilot - for he flies planes for a private company - were looking for something to do. luckily for them it was a Thursday night; we all know I rarely do anything and am something less than a social butterfly. I am completely out of touch with normal going-out-and-partying type things. but thursdays, I can offer open-mic night. so I did. and I asked some other people to come play, and they did, and I believe a good time was had by all. I know a good time was had by me, anyway.

rob: she's a dancer. she has to do everything with a flourish.
me: but not on purpose. I think I'm just extra ridiculous all the time, and flourishes are the result.
rob: yes, that's exactly it, actually.

eric: she likes nsync AND mylie cyrus? where do you find these people?
me: she's a new friend, I take no responsibility. you can blame rob.

me: (to paul) so not much has changed since high school - all my friends are still fun. and completely ridiculous.

pat: in brazil we are rude and push people and we not care about others.
me: that's an eastern european accent you're using.
pat: in brazil we sound like russian. this is what I learn at my job.

erin: (for the 7th time in as many minutes) but see, I'm married -
eric: is she married?
rob: well, she's married....
me: she really wants us to know this.
eric: or she's trying to convince herself...
rob: that's much more likely.
erin: (who has not heard any of this aside) what? I'm married, and....

me: you should go sing something.
paul: um, no.
me: why? you were IN a band once...
paul: yeah, that was a LONG time ago.
me: I'm sure it's like riding a bike...
paul: yeah, no. it's probably more like flying a plane - if you forget something you don't just fall down, someone could die...

FMF FTW!

the past thursday, friday, and saturday nights found me in downtown orlando bouncing from venue to venue for the florida music festival. great live music, bad band names (arnon armoth, anyone?), good friends, fantastic people-watching opportunities... all in all an amazing 3 days.

we all know i'm a live-music junkie as it is, so what better way to spend some time than watching some old favorites and discovering awesome new (well, new to me) bands?

people who don't suck:

(click on the name, and it will take you to a video...)

minus the bear

easy star all-stars

thomas wynn and the believers

tayler buono (not bad for a 17-year-old...)

the lighter exchange (featuring a friend who is also frontman for agr)

big 10-4

and of course, better than ezra. because you just gotta love kevin and the band. they're big fat dorks who happen to be excellent musicians. and they like getting up on a stage and playing with the audience. for example, as seen below: "if you have any troubles with fast-moving stuff, like flashing lights or strobes, and it makes you dizzy or you fall down... you might want to avert your eyes from my fretboard, because what you're about to see might just blow your mind!" (you may want to turn the sound down a bit - it's not the best quality. but still entertaining to watch...)

FaceBook: Creating a False Reality Since 2004

i met the levins on libby's 5th birthday. they were an amazing family that came to the garden, and i spent the day playing with them in between my shows. rebecca got my email address so she could send me pictures when she developed them and scanned them in. (remember when we had to develop photos?) so we stayed in touch. she let me know when they were in town, and i would come meet them to play. i went on ships for a year, then started teaching, and rebecca and i kept up with each other pretty regularly. when they came down for mickey's not-so-scary halloween party, i met them at mk and hung out all night.

life, of course, gets busy. rebecca has 3 kids, and they were growing up. there were lessons and appointments, and personal family stuff to deal with. i was teaching high school lit and working with the theatre department, so my plate was pretty full too. i moved away for almost two years, moved back... through most of this we had facebook. rebecca and i communicate pretty often on the fb; sometimes it's just comments and captions, but often we're sending letters and pictures, talking about the kids and what's going on in our lives. so much so that i forgot how long it's been since i've seen them in real life - after all, just a few days ago we were "talking". and to paraphrase william goldman, what with one thing and another, 6 years went by. as rebecca said, facebook really creates a false sense of reality about your relationship with people. not that this is really a bad thing - i'm extremely grateful for her friendship and that i'm able to keep up with the girls' cheerleading team and sam's goings-on. the levins took an impromptu trip to the area and luckily we were able to meet up for dinner, and it was like i hung out with rebecca and the girls all the time. which i kinda do. just not in real life...

to put it in perspective:

I Wish My Life WERE Tofu

so, random deep conversations happened last night, sprinkled in amongst the normal ridiculousness and shenanigans. (i will post videos of said shenanigans later. because the dancing? it is amazing.) one of these was about how crappy my life outlook is right now and how i seem unable to change that, as much as i wish i could. "it's ok," bibi said. "you're life's just... tofu right now. just... bland. it happens." but i couldn't agree. life's been tofu before, and while it's not completely fun, it is at least acceptable. but it's not. it's like life's a plate of onions and peppers - it won't kill me or anything, but please take it away because it's going to make me very, very ill. and that's just... sad. really kinda depressing. how do i get out of that? how do i change that? i don't even want to turn it into, say, chicken marsala with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh peas. firstly, i'm pretty sure that's impossible, but even it's not, it's out of reach for now. i'll settle for tofu. tofu would be good. so how do i get there? how do i change my menu?

and now, to lighten the mood and counteract my ick, i present to you "big fish, little fish, cardboard box."

Best Quote of Last Night...

... goes to bibi. we were at universal and city walk last night because andy was in town and celebrating mardi gras (again). while in rising star, a bride-to-be took the stage and while at least she could actually sing, she and her harem drunkenly cavorted and made it very hard not to point and laugh. i commented, "see? this is why i wasn't going to have one of these. we are just not these girls." to which bibi replied, "oh, no, sweetie, i would've thrown you one. but it would've been classy. we would've been in evening gowns and all done up... and there would've been a stripper, but he would be a CLASSY stripper - he would start in tuxedo pants and those little cuffs..."

aaaaaaaaaand this is why we're friends.

Wow, How Time Flies When You're a Mess...

the last time i posted was on may 18th - nearly 10 months ago. i'm really not sure what happened, besides the fact that life became to much for me to even comment on any more. which i realize is kind of sad and pathetic, but there you have giraffes. to bring you - and me - up to speed, i'll just bullet point the last year...

• got stuck in virginia till the end of the school year. planned to spend a few weeks with my parents and then move back to florida.
• my grandfather died right as i was moving, and i ended up staying in mo-town for a couple months to help out and things.
• moved to florida at the end of august. stayed with rob for a few months while i attempted to save up money to have my own place.
• started teaching ballroom dance at various schools as an after-school program, and working with a dance studio as an assistant.
• only at the studio one day a week now, still teaching ballroom, will be teaching tap, jazz, and ballet as well. hoping this will continue to pay the bills...
• still a big fat emotional mess. can't always be bothered to get up in the morning. working on this.
• a friend of mine is staying with me for now whilst she sorts out some issues in her life. this is awesome because she rocks and it's nice to have the company - and the pressure to actually care about my home environment. however, it's been a while since i had a roommate, so i have to remember how to be a good one. (rob doesn't exactly count because a. we're very similar; 2. it's like living with family; and also i kinda had my own side of the house.)
• discovered that my medical issues and "fibromyalgia" seems to be, in fact, celiac disease. great that i can control it just with my diet; sucks because gluten is EVERYWHERE and it's become very inconvenient and expensive to eat.
  
  i think that about covers it. i'll try to actually post now. i think it's best if i give myself some sort of outlet, and i haven't in quite a while. we'll see how this goes...

Val and B.B. - A Tale of Two Intoxicating Women

from radio freefall: "the two women in the group... were as different from each other as valium and crystal meth."

i think this is an excellent description of me and charissa; both are very potent drugs, but they work in very different ways. when i sent this to c, she immediately and completely agreed. obviously (if you've ever met us, this will be easy to figure out) she is meth, and i am valium. i think it's part of why we work well as friends - we're opposites in a lot of ways, and we tend to balance each other out. almost immediately my nickname became "val", but meth proved harder to work with. "crystal" or "crys" just don't fit her, and are too close to her actual name anyway. "meth" is a stupid name for a person. c.m. (her actual initials, funnily enough) doesn't work either. so we started looking at street names for it. enter "black beauty" - a nickname for meth and the perfect (and very appropriate) one for her. we're using "b" or "b.b." for short. should i be concerned that a quote about drugs is what inspires our nicknames? i suppose it's just life imitating art, or in our case, art imitating life...

Quote of the Day

via amy, who is an elementary music teacher:

from kindergarten... upon hearing that we'd be singing/ reading the book "Puff the Magic Dragon" again, little girl says to her neighbor... Puff the Magic Dragon! That's my JAM!

pure awesomeness.

I Call the Back Seat!

so, i just had a realization this weekend that kinda threw me a little. it's been 2 years since we lost mikey, almost 2 since we lost roy, and nearly six (six!) years since we lost jefe and jamie. i suppose losing 4 co-workers (or former co-workers) in the space of 4 or 5 years doesn't seem that huge in the scheme of things, especially in a company as large as disney. but it's different in entertainment. co-workers are not just that; they're your family. love them or hate them, you spend a lot of your time with them, and they touch your life one way or another. in this case, all four wonderful men left far before their time should have been up. and they have definitely left their mark on all of us that were lucky enough to have known them. hope it's going well up there, guys - and i call back seat on the roy bus when i get there! (scoot over, mikey, you can totally share...)

Refocusing

this year has been one of extreme highs and equally extreme lows, amid general suckiness. the high points being finally (after almost 6 years of bad timing and false starts) getting to start a romance with the love of my life, becoming engaged, and starting to plan a life together. the low bits being pretty much every moment after he began to suddenly freak out about the whole thing and then stopped talking to me altogether. i won't go into it (you can go and read past blog entries if you really want to hear about the soul-crushing heartache) but suffice it to say that this has pretty much destroyed me. since the pain is not magically going to go away (and probably not ever - i mean it's gotta be all downhill after "love of your life," right?) i've decided not to even try. instead, i'm refocusing - shifting to outside of me. i'm stuck inside my head - and trust me, it sucks in here right now - and i need out. so i'm going to focus on my passions (theatre, teaching, and travel) and helping others.

clearly i need out of here, so the first step is moving. i figure i'll probably end up in central florida since i have some seriously awesome friends there, and i know the area. plus, that puts me in a position to help mikki with CN4C and lets me volunteer at the give kids the world village. i really wish there was some way i could convince the powers-that-be at GKTW to create a full-time photography position (with benefits, preferably) for me. however, since that's probably not going to happen, the first order of business is finding a job. that's where you come in. anybody have any leads on a job, at least temporarily? because of the fibro, i can't stand for long periods of time or lift, well, anything really, so keep that in mind. i'm working on getting my certification back so that i can at least sub while looking for other teaching jobs. so... help? any suggestions at all would be greatly appreciated. i need out of here, and as soon as possible, so that i can start focusing on yakking up sunshine and rainbows and making the world a better place and crap, and stop focusing on my own pain. thanks!

Stealing Stuff from Sami

(man, i love a good alliteration...)

my friend sami had this posted as her status: [sami] is damaged and thus will hurt you if you get too close. Therefore, I accept my sentence of experiencing this life by myself...

i feel like these words sum up my emotional state right now, and so i am stealing them.

The Only Time Snoring (and Drooling) Is Cute

i went over to jen's the other day; i took with me the plethora of crafting supplies i own, to help her put together a project for her sister's birthday.  we were in the sunroom, stuff spread out on the floor, the boy playing next to us with his jungle playset thingie.  after awhile, gray decided he wanted to play with our stuff instead, and did not take it well that we kept moving things like scissors and stamp pads out of his reach.  to appease him, i put him on my lap and began trying to distract him with random toys, so his mommy could work.  he was playing with his blue elephant when he leaned to the side and passed out cold, 60 to 0 in 5 seconds flat.  he's got a bit of a cold, so he's a bit snuffly when breathing - despite this fact, he had crashed face-down into my sleeve, and wouldn't be moved. so i had an armful of cute, snoring, 8-month-old baby while the two of us giggled at him.  too precious. :o)

But What Am I Going To Wear?

i'm not sure if the following story makes a statement about the kind of person i am, that c is, or about our friendship in general... (possibly all of the above.)

c called me earlier this evening and said, "ok, so just be aware, you and i are going to slovakia.  possibly soon."  my first question was, "when are we going?" the second, "what's the weather like?" which naturally led to, "what should i pack?" and then, "how am i affording this?" not until about 8 or 9 on the question list did i finally come up with "wait, WHY are we going to slovakia?"  nope, didn't even crack the top 5 in the List of Pertinent Information about taking a trip half-way around the world to places i've never been and don't speak even the slightest bit of the language. 

i have priorities, it just seems as though they're in a slightly different order from the rest of the world...

NYE in D.C. - A Photo Essay (Part 2 - The Freaks Come Out at Night)

the evening was in full swing. most of the party-goers had arrived, and if their behavior was any indication, i'd say most of them had drunk themselves into oblivion before setting foot downstairs. c and i wandered into the comedy room because i needed to sit for a while, and seating was extremely limited. we watched a couple of sets; the first comic we saw was quite funny (and i'm totally stealing two of his bits), but the second one just wasn't funny. we left the room and took the cheesy "official" photo - complete with bad cruise ship staircase background. we also took one with (a cardboard cutout of) obama, but unfortunately it didn't come out well. sad... ah, well. then we went back into the main ballroom, snagged another drink, and decided to people watch. we both love people-watching, and trust me when i say that this was one the best opportunities to do so, possibly ever.

typical non-creative heavy drinkers
the official website - as well as dc 101, the radio station that sponsored it - claimed that the event drew a "mid-to-late-twenties to mid-thirties" crowd. however, i think they lied. there were an awful lot of college kids and newly 21-year-olds there, and while that is fine and all, it just drastically changes the atmosphere; hence, all the drunken fools who couldn't walk straight even though it was only 10 pm. fun to watch, not as fun to interact with. ah, well. there were some seriously interesting people to watch, so it wasn't a total loss. because drunk college students? yeah, they do all sorts of ridiculous, embarrasing, and stupid things. like drink so much that you puke all over the floor in the middle of the hallway. (luckily i didn't witness this - unfortunately, c got that honor.) or being so oblitterated that you (a guy) try to use the women's restroom, can't understand why you're being yelled at to leave, and then fall over and can't get up so that a host of police officers and security have to go in and drag your ass out. (at least he was very cooperative and amiable. and he was hot, which was unfortunate, because the drunken stupidity totally cancelled it out.) or getting your long gown caught on the escalator and having several security and maintenance workers trying to free you without ruining your dress or making you naked. (hi, common sense: if you have a full-length skirt, you have to lift it up while on an escalator. not hard and plus they had people reminding girls of that on all floors.) there were lots of girls who clearly had not attempted moving, sitting, or even breathing in their dress before purchasing and wearing in public. either boobs were popping out while dancing, asses were hanging out, or things simply did not fit well. just... eeks. did no one teach these girls to twist, move, jump, and dance around in a dress before purchasing? because there were also the girls that clearly weren't comfortable - oh, they looked amazing, but they spent the evening standing stoically, carful not to wrinkle, bend, or take deep breaths, because they couldn't. i promise, ladies, it's possible to look awesome AND be comfortable. you should try it next time.

midnight balloon drop - we weren't here

meanwhile, it was coming up to midnight. c and i made the executive decision to stay outside the main ballroom instead of rushing in to be squished next a couple thousand drunken strangers just to watch a bunch of balloons drop. like i said, new year's is just not that big a deal for me, and besides, we were sitting down in a prime-people-watching spot. plus c's killer black and gold stillettos were starting to, well, kill her. it should be mentioned at this point that no matter how much pain c was in, she did not take her shoes off. i mean, we've all been guilty of it at one time or another, but you just don't walk barefoot around a hotel when there are open bars and people puking. you just don't take that risk. by midnight, i'd estimate that about a third of all the girls attending had taken off their shoes and were now lurching about with them in one hand and a drink in the other. there was a plethora of snagged tights and pantyhose, and these girls just didn't care anymore. some took them off and tossed them in the garbage, some continued to wear the tattered garments; one girl (and c witnessed this) had her shoes off, stepped in the puke from the previously-mentioned yakker, then - instead of immediately taking them off and scrubbing the first layer of skin from her feet - she simply ripped the bottom of the hose and rolled them up so that she had dipped-in-puke flesh-colored leggings. EW.

last thing in this installment, courtesy of c: the last-chance hook-up bathroom trolling. i swear i'm not making this up. aparently, this is the thing to do if you are a guy who, by the end of the night, has not found a girl drunk enough to sleep with you:

step one: hang out outside the women's restroom.
step two: evaluate each emerging female based on drunkeness.

step three: when you find one sufficiently intoxicated (stumbling is a good indicator) approach her casually, making it look as though you just happen to be passing by. if she's appropriated schnockered, i'm sure she won't remember seeing you on her way in.

step four: proceed to hit on her, making sure to lean on her so you can remain upright.

step five: if she is willing, lead her back to your hotel room upstairs. (and let's hope you have a hotel room, because you should really not be driving)

step six: if she is unwilling, walk away from her, mutter some choice expletives, and resume with step one.

seriously. c saw it happening while i was still rocking out with cowboy mouth, and once she pointed it out, i saw it for myself. yikes.

hopefully, most people stayed at the hotel...

NYE in D.C. - A Photo Essay (Part 1 - It Starts)

i usually don’t make a big deal out of new year’s eve; mostly, this is because new year’s (much like my birthday) seems destined to suck. also, I have found that my personal new year’s eve seems to be Oct. 31 – for whatever reason, that’s when my year-long cycle seems to end, ready to start again on Nov. 1. but this year was different, and thank heavens for that. my friend c came up to visit me and we decided to go to d.c.’s official “downtown celebration” event. It was a little pricey, but it included open bars, food, a chance to dress in a theme, and – most importantly – cowboy mouth.

first up: costume design. the official dress code was “creative black tie”; they equated this to what you might wear to the mtv music awards – formal, but funkiness was encouraged. no problem. c and I headed out to the malls and such in search of appropriately fabulous attire. We weren’t exactly sure what we were looking for… we figured maybe an ethnic theme, like Chinese or Indian, or a period theme, like 20’s or 50’s. after combing potomic mills (the nation’s largest outlet mall), we found ourselves at a loss. we really didn’t want to spend a lot, and we also didn’t want cookie-cutter formal wear. then we stumbled across a random kiosk in the middle of the mall. a lovely woman of indeterminate asian decent was selling a mix of Chinese and middle eastern clothing and accessories. c found a lovely read Chinese dress, and I found a fantastical black scarf-like thingie with bright pink embroidery and sequins. and so we had our themes: c’s was “asian” and mine became “bollywood.” c found a pair of kick-ass black and gold heels, gold jewelry, and a sparkly red flower to wear in her hair. oh, and a fan (hey, we're all about props). i found a pink corset, long black skirt, and silver jewelry. we were set.

c, the asian princess me in my bollywood finery

a creative jacket choice (the only)

of course, we were two of only four people (out of a few thousand) who new how to interpret "creative black tie." everyone else was wearing general mall-bought cocktail-wear. i mean, there were a few really fabulous formal dresses and some equally fantabulous shoes, but for the most part, it was a sea of unimaginative party-goers. (sidebar: while there were several amazing shoe choices, not one of the girls who chose them could walk in them. they all walked around like truck drivers, or like first-time stilt-walkers, or 5-year-olds playing dress up in their mother's shoes. just disgraceful. it's not that hard, people. and if you can't walk in them, don't wear them, the end.) so we stuck out, but it's not like we're not used to that. it was a good kind of sticking-out, anyway, because people came up to us all night, telling us how awesome we looked and how hot we were. always good for the ego...

a pre-party starbucks (note the wristband)

apparently - and we've noticed this before - when c and i are out in public together, we seem to attract the freaks. seriously, it's like we both have one-half of a neon sign that says "come talk to us, freaky people!" that combines and lights up when we're together. it's like the bad wonder-twin power. it started in line. when we arrived downtown and parked, we found ourselves almost two (nyc) blocks away. seeing as it was below freezing, and we were wearing skirts and heels, we took a cab to the hyatt. yes, my friends, we were those people. we entered the hotel, picked up our event tickets, went through the registration - where they proceeded to brand us with a florescent orange wristband (really? it's black tie and you're just going to ruin the effect with day-glo jewelry?) - and had a pre-party starbucks before we were let in. as 8:30 approached, we went to stand in (a ridiculously long) line to head down the escalator to the main party areas. enter becky.

becky was a pert little 23-year-old who had obviously been to a very generous pre-party. she started by telling us how hot we looked and how no one else was as creative as us (well, duh), and insinuated herself in line with us. of course, she hadn't gotten her wristband yet, so she needed to be in another line altogether, but it took a while to convince her of that. becky had apparently come with some neighbors of hers, and although she was technically there with a guy, she had somehow found him lacking and had ditched him. before they had even gotten in to the party. we lost her as we went downstairs and she had to get her

wristband, but she appeared behind us in line for the coat check. she then - rambling drunkenly - proceeded to follow us around while we were checking out the venues. there was a sports bar/karaoke bar, a ballroom set up to be a club, a comedy room, and the stage venue where cowboy mouth and two other bands would perform. set up in both the stage and club areas were buffets of nibbly things, and bars were set up throughout the three (yes, three) levels of the hotel that were being used. halfway through the club area, and heading into our second drinks, we somehow lost becky, and i can't say that i was that sad about it. i mean, she was completely entertaining at first, but after a while, it kinda felt like my annoying little sister had decided to tag along. anyway, with that presence gone, we decided to hit the food tables and chow down.

to be continued....

c and becky, in line

Life Is a Mix Tape, Part 2: The Albums

"tonight, i feel like my whole body is made out of memories. i'm a mix tape, a cassette that's been rewound so many times you can hear the fingerprints smudged on the tape."

-rob sheffield

sometimes one song just isn’t enough; sometimes a whole album is tied to a memory. hearing any song from that album will bring me back, but it also works the other way, too. i may randomly think of something that happened and then really want to listen to the album that accompanies it. (the playlist at the bottom has selections from each of the albums.)
8 dark side of the moon – pink floyd: besides being an excellent album on its own, this cd is tied to my freshman year in college. we would often put this on at night, on repeat, to sleep to. funny side note: i recently re-bought this album because it had been lost or stolen long ago. i popped it into the cd player and about two songs in, i found myself getting sleepy. talk about your pavlovian responses.
8 sublime – sublime: college, theatre department parties, jono and greyton’s house. jono and greyton were roommates and theatre students a year ahead of me. they had the best house for parties – two stories, sprawling wrap-around porch, and neighbors who were either not very close to the house, or at every party anyway, so they didn’t mind the noise. it was also at the top of a hill (mountain, really) and though it sucked to get up there in the winter, it was a very zen-like area with woods on two sides of the house. every single party started the same way; once enough party-goers had arrived, the “circle of death” table was set up with a pitcher and a few decks of cards, a few joints were rolled, the keg tapped, and this album put on. usually there were a few discs in the changer that rotated around, but this album we listened to straight through, beginning to end, before switching the music. those were good times – i don’t have a single bad or even boring memories from those parties. (note to my mom, in case you’re reading this: i had nothing to do with the pot – that was all jono and greyton, i promise. i stuck to the drinking games and laughing at the fools that couldn't hold their liquor.)
8 when i woke – rusted root: senior year of high school and freshman year of college. rusted root is a folk-funk-hippie-accoustic-fusion band from pittsburgh. because morgantown was only a hour or so away, they used to play every thursday night at the nyabinghy dance hall. (memo to me: there needs to be an entire blog dedicated to the ‘binghy at some point…) because we knew a few of the bouncers – or, more accurately, because i knew a few people who knew a few bouncers – we were let in even though we were underage. we only ever came to see root, and we didn’t try to drink any alcohol while we were there, so mostly they let us get away with it. new year’s eve 1995 found john, dale, and i at the annual root show in pittsburgh, and then at a party at a friend of dale’s sister’s. it was a fun night, even though i spent large chunks of the party making sure the stoners weren’t feeding marijuana to the friend’s parents’ great dane.
8 discography – pet shop boys: i’m not sure why, but this album played non-stop throughout my sophomore year in college. it seemed like whenever john, dale, melinda, and i were in a car together, this album was playing. it didn’t matter whose car, because we all had a copy. it was the default bgm to our wanderings.
8 greatest hits – bob marley: i would like to preface this by saying i love bob marley – quite a lot, actually. however, since it was one of the very few cd’s we could agree on in adventure ocean (the kids' center) on the serenade, we listened to it a lot. incessantly. over and over and over. rob was the worst offender; he always put it on, and we always seemed to work together. it finally got to the point where i took it out of the cd changer and hid it for a couple of weeks.
8 fear – toad the wet sprocket: sophomore and junior year of college. ferruso and i listened to this all the time. it’s another cd that became default bgm. mostly, though, it reminds me of the puppeteers of america festival in ohio. this and an “awesome eighties” cd were in heavy rotation that weekend. we met famous artists and puppeteers, we got rave reviews for a performance we slapped together for a cabaret night, i sliced open my thumb with a stolen outback steak knife whilst carving a coconut out of a nerf ball, we got through some of the lamer performances by loading our travel mugs with zima and sour candy (we couldn’t find any jolly ranchers on short notice), and we met all kinds of fantastically random people just by playing uno in the downstairs lobby. excellent times.
8 play – moby: for a month and a half, while i worked at disney and lived in clermont, this cd was stuck in the player of my car. i couldn’t fish it out and i couldn’t afford to get it fixed. the player was stuck; i couldn’t turn it off, i couldn’t change the volume or the track, and i couldn’t switch it back to the radio. it’s a really, really good thing that this was the cd that got stuck. (and that it was at a decent volume, come to think of it.) it’s one of the (like 5) albums i have no trouble listening to straight through, and it’s a testament to the quality of this album that i never got sick of it and that it remains one of my all-time favorites.
8 elephunk - black eyed peas:splendour of the seas, the sob (that’s the staff and officer bar, thank you). there are many different types of people working on ships: people of different nationalities, from different walks of life, who speak many different languages. it’s no surprise, then, that there was some dispute over the music to be played in the sob at night. for whatever reason, this album was the one everyone agreed on, so it was played almost every night squished somewhere between the british punk rock, romanian trance, and morroccan pop music (most of which i quite liked, actually…).

8 the lion king soundtrack: this is pretty self-explanatory, unless you don’t know about my stint performing at disney. i did both lolk (legend of the lion king) and folk (festival of the…) from the summer of ‘98 till the summer of ’03. legend closed in 2002 (to make way for a 3-d movie – great planning, eisner; way to take away the most popular attraction in the park), but i continued doing shows at folk till i was (wrongly) fired in ’03. (i got my job back… eventually. that’ll have to be a blog at some point, too.) anyway, due to the fact that i heard the soundtrack on a daily basis (at least 9 shows a day at legend, 4 at festival) it is permanently ingrained in my head, along with all corresponding choreography. everytime i hear the songs, i see the choreography in my head; because i knew 5 tracks (roles) at legend, i participated in every scene at some point. i’m pretty sure, given a stage and the appropriate puppets, i could still do either show pretty well, including things i was never trained in. it’s also my curse; the lion king soundtrack follows me. wherever i go, it’ll pop up to annoy me. true stories: 1. we were in skagway, alaska, and headed into a shopping center to get lunch at one of the cafes. as we walked through, “can you feel the love tonight” by elton john came over the loud speakers. really? alaska? and 2. in vegas, rob and i walked into the first casino to “circle of life”. jeez, people, let me have a vacation! there are many more instances, but i’ve done my best to block them out.
8note: the quote at the beginning of this blog is from the book love is a mix tape by rob sheffield - a brilliant memoir of life and love by a contributing editor of rolling stone. it's lovely and sad and inspiring and funny and real, and i'm going to keep bugging you until you go read it.

new mix tape:

Life Is a Mix Tape, Part 1

"the times you lived through, the people you shared those times with - nothing brings it all to life like an old mix tape. it does a better job of storing up memories than actual brain tissue can do. every mix tape tells a story. put them together, and they add up to the story of a life."

-rob sheffield

music is a huge part of my life and always has been. it’s no surprise, then, that many of my memories have music tied to them. i’ve decided to list some of these, and update as i think of others. also, if you happen to think of a song that reminds you of me or of something we did together, let me know! (p.s. if you’re not sure what a song sounds like, or you’re thinking, “hey! i love that song!” i’ve included a playlist at the bottom for your listening pleasure.)
8 “in your eyes” by peter gabriel: this is one of my favorite songs of all time. and it never fails to make me think – just for a second – about fedan and our obsession with the good morning vietnam soundtrack. i would go over to her house to hang out and we would listen to it nonstop and dance around like fools. and, yes, i realize this song is not actually on the soundtrack; but for whatever reason, our obsessions with peter gabriel and the gmv album are synonymous in my head.

8 “be my lover” by la bouche: we were in italy the first time we heard this song, in a discoteque. the other girls and i quickly found out that italian men come in two varieties – mediteranean god, and sleezy grease ball. we spent the evening dancing in a group, john and jim circling us at intervals to ward off said grease balls (because apparently the god-like men weren’t at our disco).

8 “everything i do (i do it for you)” by brian adams: my junior year in high school, the marching band performed music from the movie robin hood: prince of thieves. i loved the instrumental music, but we also did the popular “love theme”. this was the one piece of choreography that sucked for us in the color guard. our instructor (who is another story in and of himself) gave us difficult, dci-worthy routines, but this unfortunately didn’t continue on to the ballad, during which he decided we should do a dance sans apparatus. it was not particularly good, but what i remember most is my end position; i didn’t have an exact coordinate – i just needed to end up a few yards behind chris bouquot and off to his left. i can’t remember what i ate for lunch yesterday, but i remember a field position from 14 years ago…

8 “the hustle” and “there’s a kind of hush”: when i was little, i was encouraged to listen to any and all of my parents’ record albums. mom and dad didn’t restrict me to “kiddie music” nor did they expect themselves to live on a steady stream of trite educational songs. (also, i suspect that there wasn’t the market on kid songs that there is today.) one of the albums my mom would play fairly regularly was a “workout album.” on one side, there was a selection of six or seven songs with a perky voice calling out the dance/aerobic moves. on the other side were the same songs, sans instructions. both “the hustle” and “there’s a kind of hush” were on this album, so they make me think of dancing around in our awesome black-white-and-chrome living room in huntington with my mom.

8 “my perogative” by bobby brown: we danced to this in a jazz class… there are specific dance moves that go with “i see nothing wrong/ with spreading myself around” and “ev’rybody’s talkin / all this stuff about me”. i feel compelled to do them to this day. maybe if you’re good, i’ll record the moves and upload them…

8 “super trouper” by abba: this was my favorite abba song as a kid. we had a van for long trips, and my dad wisely installed an 8-track player with headphones next to my seat in the back. (that’s right, i said 8-track.) this way both my parents and i could listen to what we wanted. when i was four, my favorite 8-tracks were abba’s the album, a sesame street album, the beach boys’ greatest hits, and hooked on classics. my freshman year in college, i found myself in the cac’s concert theatre during a scenic design class. victor pointed to the back of the house to show us the large professional spotlights. “those are called super troupers,” he told us. “OH!” i exclaimed half a minute later. “THAT’S what they meant in the abba song!” i had always assumed (hey, i was four when i memorized the words) that it meant trouper as in someone who put up with something, like being lonely while on tour – being a trouper. victor glanced over at me, rolled his eyes, and said, “seriously? stop talking, gibson.” this would not be the first OR the last time he said this exact phrase...

8 “don’t stand so close to me” by the police, and “private eyes” by hall and oats: I had a small record player when i was young that played 45’s. these were my first two 45’s ever, and i played them over and over.

8 “satellite” by dmb: i already owned the album, so i’m not entirely sure why this reminds me of sitting around a pool table at a bar in college. i’m not even sure which bar – though i think it was probably the barn, as it was owned by a friend’s brother and we always got in for free. for whatever reason, i remember sitting with john and commenting, “oh, i like this song” as it came on. then we – and the other assorted people with us – starting discussing jam bands. unimportant, really, but i think of it every time.

8 “tootsie roll”: luckily i don’t hear this song very often, as it is a stupid, stupid song. however, it’s burned in my memory because of kenny and jason, two fellow theatre students. i don’t remember why the three of us always traveled together from the evansdale campus to downtown; i lived above the student union (stupid honors program) instead of in evansdale like every other creative arts student, but i can’t remember if jason and kenny did too, or if we had a class together. either way, the three of us often scaled the nine bajillion stairs from the bottom of the mountain, where the prt station was, to the top, where everything else lived. (and i’m not kidding about the stairs. we counted them once, and it came out to three hundred and something. and that was just to the mountainlair – there were several more flights to get up to my dorm. remind me to tell the “alice in wondershit” story at a later date.) one day, for no apparent reason, one of them burst out with the song, the other joined in, and they danced their way up the stairs as they sang about the moves. once they realized how obnoxious this was, they repeated the performance frequently. made me laugh (almost) every time.

8 “the end of the world (as we know it)” by r.e.m.: john and i are singers. we sing along with every song on the radio if we know all the words or even (or sometimes especially) if we don’t. dale, however never joins it. he enjoys the music and will bop along, but he leaves the singing to the rest of us – except on one occasion. we were driving around pittsburgh when this song came on the radio. dale then proceeded to sing every lyric of the song correctly. if you’ve heard the song, you know it contains a lot of random words and phrases sung quickly through the verses. john and i stared at dale for a verse or so and then burst out laughing; it was so out of character for him that it became hysterical. dale looked around at us and kept asking, “what? what’s so funny?”

as i think of others, i'll post them - in the meantime i leave you with an interesting mish-mash of music...

8 note: the quote at the beginning of this blog is from the book love is a mix tape by rob sheffield - a brilliant memoir of life and love by a contributing editor of rolling stone. it's lovely and sad and inspiring and funny and real, and you should go read it.