Jersey Shore!

Glen, Audrey and I went down to the Jersey Shore and had a basically awesome time. I had to get back to work so I missed out on a mushroom enhanced bike ride and potential karaoke but we did hit the strip and shopped our butts off. It's discount heaven with a lot of tie-dye thrown in.

I wrote about it for the Vice Blog, so click here for the full run down.



Aside from shopping we spent a couple of hours with Sadie at the dog beach. It wasn't fancy and we had to share it with a fat kayaker whose boat was named "The Emotion". That's right, no motion in the ocean puns, just plain old "Emotion"...laaaaame.






Of course the astro-turf set-up was Glen's idea and btw, that's no an American flag beach towel but a fucking poncho...what else could I expect?




The only rule was that the dog had to be on a leash that was held at all times. There was no length restriction so we found a nylon rope in Glen's van (that's not rapey at all dude) and tied it to the end of Sadie's regular leash so she was free to run around almost as much as she pleased although she somehow managed to reach the end of the longest leash ever a few times while playing fetch in the bay.


Family!


I look so posey here but I really wasn't. Audrey said she wanted to take some pics of me and I didn't know when she was taking them exactly. I throw like a girl.


Best dog ever

Best text ever...

From Sam Jayne
"Hey love as laughter alumni and heavy hitters there is a show in portland sep 20. Isaac is flying us out its the gp showcase for northwest music fest at crystal ballsroom and its gonna be huge. We can use MM double drums and percussion. We just have to find places to tay, i can help with that. Whos in?"

Translation:
Isaac Brock is flying a bunch of us out for the Glacial Pace showcase for the Northwest Music Fest at the Crystal Ballroom. We can use Modest Mouse's gear.

The line-up is:
Modest Mouse
Love as Laughter
Mimicking Birds
Morning Teleportation

I'll be singing back-up and playing tambo/cowbell. It will be an all-star Love as Laughter show I'm sure, since the group has some seriously awesome alumni. I'm stoked. Individual tickets for the show are already SOLD OUT but people with wrist bands will be able to come in until it's at capacity (which is 1000.) SCARY!

Sam recently let me join in for a show at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. It was free and the afterparty for the Mission of Burma show earlier that afternoon. We played with The Nasties and Violent Bullshit and it was a real good time. The Nasties are fucking awesome and we hope to have them play at the shop real soon.

Anyway, this means I'll be in Portland for a couple of days in September. My broke ass can't afford any more vacations (my most recent ones have been on someone else's dime or paid for by DJing gigs) so this is grand great news! I'm so excited...and this is gonna be way easier than tour.

Gotta practice my harmonies!

Highway Kind

Watched Be Here to Love Me for the first time last night. The doc was so-so, still heartbreaking, but not the greatest film. But the quality of the storytelling doesn't really matter, I love Townes Van Zandt so much that any further glimpses into his story bring me joy. Nothing beats his scenes in Heartworn Highway, though. However, getting to see that much Guy Clark made me so happy. In my circle it seems like everyone knows Townes (and with good cause, he is one of the greatest songwriters of all time) but no one pays much mind to his contemporaries. Guy Clark, Joe Ely, Steve Earle, all great and all I'm going to be listening to in the shop today.

There are two great recordings that I believe are bootlegs. I'll post them on an update soon. There is the "Afternoon Workshop" which was recorded in 1983 at the Vic Theater as part of a songwriter's workshop with John Prine, John Hiatt, Guy Clark, and Joe Ely featuring storytelling and an amazing version of Joe Ely playing Butch Hancock's Boxcars.



Here is Guy Clark playing Rita Ballou on the Texan Connection



And live in Austin, LA Freeway...this one kills me. If you go to the YouTube page there are some crazy comments...



The other record is Steve Earle, Townes Van Zandt and Guy Clark - Together at the Bluebird Cafe. It's a superb live album that has amazing story-telling and a great vibe between the three (at least deserving to be called) legends. I highly suggest it. It's funny, heartbreaking, and beautiful.

Here's Steve Earle on David Letterman playing his Celtic Appalachian fusion country hit...Copperhead Road...1988


Here's a cool interview with Steve Earle. Can't find a good embeddable video of "I Ain't Ever Satisfied:


And here is the a crazy Desperados Waiting for a Train All-Stars performance:

Full effectiveish

Okay. Fuck. I'm back from tour and have no idea where to begin. I guess saying that I'm back is enough of a start. It was my first time spending any serious time in the south. Aside from my solo vacation to the Hostel in the Forest/Cumberland Island the December before last and a childhood family trip to North Carolina's Outer Banks, I hadn't been to the offical "South" before. The tour began and ended in North Carolina. We learned some lessons, maybe spring break isn't the best time to tour, especially in Florida. Then again, I experienced the singular horror of Ybor City/Tampa on a Friday night during the height of spring break season. Ever been to Tampa? Everyone looks like either Pete Wentz or Travis Barker. They take their architectural hair seriously down there. If it is still the home of death metal, the death metal was in hiding. Understandably so.

I have hundreds of pictures and nearly as many stories. From Charlotte strip clubs to Tampa General Hospital to getting robbed twice in one day (and puking twice in the same day) in Orlando. There were ups and downs like any tour but overall it was fun. We had the essentials: rad folks, great tunes, and more food than I care to even think about. We hit up every roadside essential except for Sheetz and Krystal. I got food poisoning from a turkey sandwich at 7/11 while everyone else digested their tacquitos just fine. Live and learn, go with the tried and true on the road. Sometimes trying to eat healthy will fuck up your stomach ten times worse than the deep-fried standards. I got my beloved Cheese 'N Eggs with raisin toast at Waffle House (smothered, chunked, and peppered) and spread apple butter on my Cracker Barrel biscuits. Despite my attempts at ordering the grilled chicken sandwich at all the fast food joints I was foiled by my milkshake obsession (Hardees has a fine one, so does Chick-Fil-A.)

The weather wasn't as warm as I'd hoped and I didn't get to spend too much time by the water. However we had a beautiful river-view in Wilmington where Sean and I got a hotel room to celebrate our anniversary (4 months...we're that kind of couple...I know) and we had some lazy beach time in St. Augustine. And I guess we relaxed poolside at the Sea World Hilton (cheapest hotel in Orlando, $42/night for four) but our relaxation was cut short when we found out we'd been robbed of all our luggage/clothing while we were sunning ourselves. But more on that story later, I'm trying to talk about how awesome everything was first before we go into the inevitable disasters that every tour seems to have. In fact my friend Glen said that "no tour is complete without someone going to the emergency room." I never did on the Battletorn tour but I also broke out in hives so badly that I thought I was going to have to. At least none of the damage was permanent and everyone walked away fine, albeit a little bit broker and with a lighter luggage load.

So I'm back, but only sort of. I've been avoiding dealing with my bedroom and both of my pillows and blanket went on tour with me so I don't want to sleep in my bed until I have a chance to do laundry. Plus Sean bought Mario Kart for his Wii, so I've been keeping busy playing video games, listening to all the rad records we bought, and plotting to practice my flute so I can accompany Sean while he toys around with the autoharp he bought in a pawn shop on our way out of Asheville.

Much much more to come in this upcoming week. And I'll be responding to comments/keeping up correspondence with all of you once this weekend is over and I'm back in the swing of life. Although the weather is getting nice finally, it's going to be hard to keep focused. Finally, weather worth being unemployed during! I've been waiting since September for this.

Barbados!!!

So, you may be wondering why I haven't posted about my vacation yet, or you may just not care. But, here is a vacation rundown I did for Vice, Barbados - You Should Go on a Tropical Budget Vacation. It's a vacation Top Ten. Again show your love and leave me comments...I'm the new kid on the blog, totally fagged and slightly insecure.



I wish it were always bikini time. I like being as naked as possible but only when contextually appropriate and not actually around real naked people. I guess I'll test that when we go to Burning Man...wait, I didn't tell you about that? Oh, that's another story...just you wait.

On the road again...

I'm going on the road with Love as Laughter in like 2 weeks! Sean is playing bass and Nic Gonzales is playing drums. It's been awesome listening to the old songs from Sam's back catalogue while Sean is learning them. So stoked I have such a ruling, talented roommate, the one and only Mr. Sam Jayne. If anyone has buddies in any of these towns hit me up and we'll have fun. I'm looking forward to some epic psychedlic journeys and lots and lots of sunshine!

Apr 7 2009 8:00P
Square One with Arbouretum Greensboro, North Carolina

Apr 8 2009 9:00P
Tasty World w/ Arbouretum and Puddin Tang!! Athens, Georgia

Apr 9 2009 8:00P
Cafe Eleven with Arbouretum Jacksonville/St Augustine, Florida

Apr 10 2009 8:00P
New World Tampa, Florida

Apr 12 2009 8:00P
TBA ORLANDO!, Florida

Apr 14 2009 8:00P
The Engine Room with Arbouretum Tallahassee, Florida

Apr 15 2009 8:00P
The Bottletree with Arbouretum! Birmingham,, Alabama

Apr 16 2009 8:00P
The Emerald Lounge with Arbouretum! Asheville, North Carolina

Apr 17 2009 8:00P
TBA Chattanooga, North Carolina

Apr 18 2009 8:00P
Milestone with Arbouretum Charlotte, North Carolina

Apr 19 2009 8:00P
TBA Wilmington, North Carolina

Back in partial effect

We knew it was time to leave Barbados when we saw a dead monkey on the side of the road on our way back to the apartment where we were staying to pack up.

It took me 27 years to leave North America. Shameful, I know, but I have the bad habit of spending all my money on food and clothing and never saving a dime for any substantial travel. My trip to Alaska last summer was a big deal, but before that most travel was limited to the lower 48. I went to Canada once and thanks to Tino I was so drunk I don't remember getting on the plane and just found out that apparently I went to Lit after Max Fish that night, something I also have no memory of...probably for the better. They almost didn't let me into the country, but that's a story I've already told. When I was twelve I went to Mexico with my mom and another friend and her mother. It was my first experience ever getting cat-called on the street. It was creepy and awesome for a chubby preteen Nebraska girl. We also rode a bus that was playing Over the Top. My memories are pretty limited because it was a rather touristy and tame trip. And I probably blocked out the drive, Nebraska to Monterrey, pretty hellish.

As far Barbados, I don't even know where to begin. It was amazing. We originally planned on staying for six days, being back in time for the Pentagram show, but after careful consideration (and a wicked sunburn covering the entire back side of my body) we decided to put in a few more days in paradise. I took hundreds of pictures and have nearly as many stories I'll post in the days to come. I'm still recovering being back in the city. My body and mind aren't quite ready to unrelax, I don't want to get out of the island grove. 82 degrees every day, sunny as hell, clean air, white sand, emerald water, I mean come on. Some places are tourist destinations for a reason. But strangely there were almost no Americans. Almost all the visitors were British and if not from the UK then from Canada.

So here I am, back in the real world: no job, my pants fit a little tighter and my chest is still peeling. I think I gave myself diabetes with all the blended drinks and exotic shandies and sodas I consumed while there. Somehow knowing I missed a late-season blizzard in New York City while I was there makes everything a little bit better. That and I know spring is just around the corner but its hard to go back to hoodies when you were walking around in sundresses.



I mean come on, bikini, sand, pyramid sunglasses, and a ginger shandy next to my beach chair.

Stay tuned, there is so much more to come.

Some stories aren't better left unfinished

I finished telling you about the island but I never finished telling you about the forest. It's been nearly a year since I went down to the Hostel in the Forest on the outskirts of Brunswick, Georgia. It was my first trip down south and hopefully not my last. I haven't been back down that way since although I hope to change that soon.

I already related the basic stories of hostel life, from Jim the Mountain Man to the kindly staff. I neglected to mention Jim had an aversion to knowing the time saying that it enslaved us and also sported a Burning Man tattoo on his arm. Such details are important. Let me show you the way round the forest of dreams...and I'll let my inner hippie shine (drum circles are still off limits in my mind.)

Here are some details I neglected:


Chickens! Everywhere!


Outdoor shower

I was terrified of the outdoor shower. So terrified I avoided showering until my last day there when I was so filthy from my island excursion I had no other choice. It was amazing even though the water smelled of sulpher. I really wish I'd done it more than once. The water was steaming hot and the view of the quiet forest was holy and serene. I don't have too many opportunities to commune nakedly and privately with nature, in fact I believe that was my only one, so it was an experience to be cherished.



The toilets were a slightly less terrifying and extremely more necessary hurdle. I'd never heard of sawdust compost much less used it. From the photo above you can gather the basics of how it works. Still, pissing in a hole and covering it up with sawdust takes some getting used to. However it is infinitely less gnarly than an outhouse and actually smelled quite neutral. The pleasant gnomes and elves painted on the walls and the mosaic and stained glass work made it a lot easier as well.







My favorite thing about wandering the grounds was that there was something to see every place you looked. The gifts left behind by travelers over the history of the hostel were still in place. Trinkets here and there, a well placed dream catcher or skull. Not just feathers and runes, although I am a sucker for both. There were island shells and notes and beads and so much more.




This was my window inside the Pool Hut (picture at top) where I stayed my second and third nights.





The Labryinth was the most magical spot on the grounds. Let me give you a tour.



















I am ready to go back to the island and the hostel, but unfortunately it won't be on the same dates, as I have no money for an end of November joyride. However, I am faithful it will come soon, perhaps when the weather first starts to warm although I do want to avoid college hippie spring break mayhem. I'd rather drive than fly this time and am open to company. This trip was so valuable to go alone the first time, it doesn't have to be solo the second. It was a memorial pilgrimage in part, to honor the memory of my friend Stefan, a series of coincidences put me in his favorite place in the world (the hostel) on the anniversary of his passing. One can surely understand the sacredness of making that trip alone. I was afraid at first of the hostel because of that association, not sure if I could handle it emotionally. But my memories kept me warm instead of keeping me scared and for that I am thankful.

The mighty may they fall

From Brendan

I saw Metallica play at Ozzfest on the 9th. Much discussion was had as to what songs we wanted to hear most. Brian wanted Creeping Death. I crossed my fingers for Orion but knowing it would not come named Sanitarium as my #1 want to hear it track. They opened with Creeping Death and played Sanitarium third...majorly exciting, but also kind of a let down. After they play your dream songs, what do you have to look forward to? In our case it was a large bulk of songs from the Black album. Crowd pleasers, greatest hits, you know the drill, but at least while we were there we only had to suffer through on post-black track, Cyanide from their new album. It was pretty wretched, far too much hardcore bass slapping for Metallica's sake.

But I made friend with the woman sitting in front of me. Her name was Jenni Jones and she was with her daughter and her mother. Three generations of metal at Ozzfest. She'd gotten in because she had gotten a call from her temp agency asking her to work at the Pizza Hut stand (Ozzfest was at a plcae called Pizza Hut Park btw) and they'd told her she could stay and watch the rest of the show when her work was finished as long as she wasn't in the crowd in her uniform. She wasn't even allowed to take in her wallet much less a bag (security was gnarly enough for us, I am sure they treat their temp workers like dogs) so she made her son-in-law take off his shirt and let her wear it.




Jenni was totally amped during the entire Ozzy set and then went totally apeshit (note to self...use that phrase more) (another note to self don't make notes to self w/in blog entries, it's self-congratulatory and is almost as bad as copy and pasting your IMs) during Metallica.



In between the two she showed me the two shirts her family bought her (she was at their mercy since she couldn't bring in cash with her.





In other late-breaking Ozzfest news:


You can't tell from the picture very well but that is a Dimebag tattoo on this guy's chest.


I know it's cheesy but I totally have a lady boner for Zakk Wylde and his shredability. Dude is a viking personified and he is from New Jersey! Plus he named one of his kids, Hendrix Halen Michael Rhoads after "Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, Mike Piazza, and Randy Rhoads" or so Wikipedia tells me.


There were a fucking lot of people there.


When I told my new friend I was supposed to have met Lars she sighed and told me she was more of a Hetfield woman. I said I wasn't a Lars girl, he was just the most sociable of the lot and that of course I was a Cliff Burton girl in this life and into his next one and she just looked confused. Said, "Oh, he's the guy who isn't in the band any more, right?" It was my turn to sigh and said, "Yeah, something like that..."

What a weekend

I went to Provincetown.

I went to a party.

This man was the host:


This man was a guest:


He was wearing this shirt:


Before the party we went out here:


I was hanging out with this guy:


I'll spare you the shot of me in my bikini and instead show you this:


There was also a tiki bar involved.

I'd never done the east coast weekender before, it's a very strange scene. The streets were packed, riding our bikes down Commercial felt like a third world country, all foot traffic, no room for cars, bikes weaving in between pedestrians, near collisions happening constantly. The vacationers consisted primarily of athletically-built immaculately-groomed men. Nearly every snipped of conversation we heard as we rode out to the break water was pure gold (although no one really wants to hear the words, "speaking of cows..." while riding their bike past a gaggle of gays.)

I had a blast though. Provincetown seemed like the friendliest place in America. Seriously, I had multiple strangers come up to me and wish me a good summer, compliment my ability to run in heels, make fun of my bike riding ability (but in a pleasant manner) and one guy even made fun of a Belgian dressed like Pee Wee Herman to me.

Also of note in Ptown, a youngish mom giving her daughter Pop Rocks for the first time. Daughter reactions violently, spitting them out and rubbing her tongue. Mom points and doubles over laughing still holding the Blue Razz package in her hand.

Also of note, "My boss came to work at the motorcycle shop and told me he fucked George Michael last night."

Also someone had a story about their friend making out with Taylor Dayne. Yes, apparently Taylor Dayne enjoys getting felt up by young gays at parties on boats. The kid had no idea who it was he'd been making out with but it was the talk of Ptown according to the storyteller. The next morning the kid's mother whapped him on the head and asked, "What the hell is wrong with you? You madeout with Taylor Dayne. Do you have any idea how old that woman is?"


Amazing.

P.S. She's 46.

Taylor Dayne - Tell It To My Heart
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