Oh wait, what?

Hi, remember me? Is there anyone out there? Have you given up on me? It's only been 11 months, that's not too long to go between posts is it? I could just start a new blog but what fun would that be?

The TV is on. The State Farm falcon commercial on. I met the guy who bought the falcon in the commercial when I was in LA. I assumed that he was losing his hair because he was wearing a fedora. Then I realized that guys in LA just like wearing hats, like a lot. I don't get it. When I see a guy in a hat in NYC I automatically assume he is balding and about 90% of the time I'm correct.

Yeah, LA, that's something that happened. I flew out there to meet up with Cult of Youth on the second leg of their US tour. They were out with Danish teen sensations and dance party enthusiasts and aka the somehow over-hyped yet under-appreciated Iceage. I got back two weeks ago.

Omar's all grown up and is currently chasing a fly. Heaven Street and Fox & Fawn a thriving. It's now just Sean and myself in our apartment over the Greenpoint oil spill. I was diagnosed with endometriosis and as a result I had to stop eating wheat and dairy. I stopped writing for Vice and am just about to start again (and by just about I mean I'm submitting my first piece in ages tomorrow.) My mother moved to California. I went to Mexico and climbed pyramids. Bad Girls Club Season 7 started. Sean told me it's a bad idea to get a third cat. I baked a loaf of bread for the first time yesterday.

Oh and Pam and I started a band.

That's me, that's my life, spastically, sporadically domesticated.

And so I leave you with some pictures from the road with Cult of Youth and Iceage:


Jacob, Elias, and Dan backstage in Portland


Sean immediately after COY's set in Portland


Nu Sensae in Vancouver (new favorite)


White Lung in Vancouver (so much love for this band)


Vancouver, but I coulda sworn for a minute we were in Montreal


Cult of Youth plays to the on-coming storm


Iceage in Vancouver


Post show tiki bar dance-party in Vancouver


Danes dancing hard while Sean DJed


Things got vaguely homoerotic, par for the course with Iceage


Tour manager/everybody's favorite guy Logan got loose


King Dude in Seattle!


Christiana in Seattle


Iceage in Seattle

I was booked to fly back early the next morning post-Seattle show. The boys/bands were so bummed to leave each other as it was the end of their joint leg of their respective tours. I was just along for the ride, but I was crushed when a plan developed to go to Aurora, WA aka the site of Twin Peaks filming later in the day. I tried to change my flight but it didn't make sense geographically and I had to miss out while the others went. Such is life, but I gotta say there were some Facebook uploads from Aurora that were totally crushing. Also crushing was the show's schedule didn't permit for the boys to get tattooed together. Elias was set to get a Cult of Youth tattoo and Sean was set to get an Iceage one. I contemplated a Cult of Youth one on my left hand, another crescent moon to match the one I have on my right palm. I guess there is always New York. I hear that someone in the Midwest gave Iceage a tattoo machine and they've been tattooing each other. So far every tattoo Elias has given has gotten infected.

And that's that. I'm sweating in my apartment writing about sweating on the West Coast. Omar is lying on his back with his legs sprawled. We've got an AC unit in here, but it's not turned out, it's more loud than effective. I'm watching Bad Girls Club while Sean packs up copies of the new Cult of Youth 7" to ship. I numbered and assembled almost all 500 of them.

I miss writing on this thing and hopefully this won't be a passing visit and I'll be back for good.

Cult of Youth TOUR DATES!

So my magical boyfriend Sean is touring with his band Cult of Youth. You should go see them if you are in any of these cities. They are amazing (and I'm not just saying that because of Sean!)



Plus they are touring with Baltimore's Death Domain (ex-SIDS)
================================================================


Friday October 9, 2009:


Cult of Youth
Death Domain
Mean Mugger
Invisible Crack
DJ Deadbeat


Division Gallery
1353 Division St
Detroit, MI 48207
http://www.myspace.com/lordrudivisiongallery

9 pm // $5 // ALL AGES
================================================================


Saturday October 10, 2009:


BloodLust! Presents:

Cult of Youth
Death Domain
Anatomy of Habit


Viaduct Theatre
3111 N. Western Avenue
Chicago, IL 60618
773.296.6024

10:30 PM // $8 // 18+

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Event Links:
Last.fm: http://tinyurl.com/ydwcoew
MySpace: http://tinyurl.com/yaqhgce
Facebook: http://tinyurl.com/yd9vbcj
Troniks/Chondritic Sound: http://tinyurl.com/yc84ewp

================================================================


Sunday October 11, 2009:


CULT OF YOUTH (NYC, DAIS RECORDS)
deathfolk from brooklyn. think: swans on quaaludes.
http://www.myspace.com/cultofyouthband


DEATH DOMAIN (BALTIMORE, MEMBER OF SIDS)
minimal synthwave. cold, dark, damp.
think: if garth marenghi played synth.
backed up zola jesus in nyc.
(http://www.myspace.com/deathdomainmotif)


MAX ELLIOTT
dark intense folkery
(http://www.myspace.com/swollenuranium)


SUPERGUN
madison's very own synth darlings. current backing band for zola jesus.


The Wisco
852 Williamson St
Madison WI 53703
608-256-8211

10PM // $5 // 21+
================================================================


Monday October 12, 2009:


*Minimal Wave & Neo-Folk Invade St. Louis*
CULT OF YOUTH
DEATH DOMAIN
VALENCE


ANTARCTICA
5226 Gravois
St. Louis, MO 63116

9PM // $5 // 18+
================================================================


Thursday October 15, 2009:


Cult of Youth
Death Domain
AntiMagic (Ex- These Are Powers)
Diamond Black Hearted Boy


The Triple
3306 West Broad Street
Richmond, VA

10 PM // 21+
================================================================

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!

Tidbits

I present some uncategorizable sights.


"Original Demon Slayer" from dinner @ Zenkichi


Normally I don't like the idea of fish coming out of my crotch but I was helpless when confronted with these pants at Fox and Fawn.


This girl has the worst tattoo I have ever seen. It's hard sneaking up on drunk chicks to take pictures of them without their knowledge. Her friend told me to stop taking photos of her drunk friend and not to embarrass her any more than she already had embarrassed herself. This girl was going nuts and was seriously aggro. Plus I didn't quite get the leather shirt. I guess it goes to show, no matter how annoying/Matrix dressed/shittily tattooed you may be, a good friend is a good friend. I've seen this girl around like 20 times since that night and she's been much better behaved. But she still has a faceless chick spread eagle on her arm.


This is Luna. She is my boyfriend's roommate's cat. Glenn found her after she'd been hit by a car. She's a former bodega cat and he nursed her back to health. She's missing a lot of teeth so her tongue has a tendancy to loll out, especially when she's sleeping.


These are some pics from The Milestone that didn't make it into the Vice article. Crass = Grass.


Anarchy = Gay.


Danzig = knocked out by a goat (according the Andy the Doorbum @ The Milestone.)

I'll update my own blog I swear!

So I managed to pump out another Vice post before I updated this. But trust me, so much tour business coming soon. Plus Throbbing Gristle!!!

New York - Florida Fashion

New post up on Vice!

North Carolina - Secret Hall of Fame

Love as Laughter played at one of the most amazing historic punk venues no one seems to have heard of. Before CBGBs there was The Milestone but of course no one cares because it's in Charlotte, NC. Check out the post, it's something I really wanted to share with the universe.

Spring Broke

Ahh, back in New York, just in time for the season of beer bongs and hula hooping. The older my friends get, the greater their enthusiasm for beer bongs seems to increase. Beer bongs and spring break. Maybe it's because those of us who did go to college never were the types to spend a weekend in Ybor City or South Padre Island. Cabo Wabo wasn't part of our scholastic venernacular. But the last thing I want to do was revist spring break after being stuck in Tampa on a Friday night during the actual time period known as spring break. It was halfway through the Love as Laughter tour, right before things started to go wrong. The boys were playing at a venue called New World. I was restless after spending the whole day in the van so I asked the promoter which direction was the best to wander. He pointed me around the corner and up the street. Little did I know that I was being directed into the heart of darkness known as Ybor City.

It was a typical party strip, filled with nightclubs and tshirt stores. Head shops next to cigar stores (this was Florida after all) and a token Coyote Ugly. All around me were girls in crop tops and mini skirts with brightly colored legwarmers or wrist bands advertising their school colors. Accompianying them were the class cargo shorts and sandal wearing meatheads. Everyone looked like a case of alcohol poisoning waiting to happen. The locals were dressed in slightly less garish but still horrifyingly miniature ensembles. Walking the strip in black jeans and a tshirt, I got a lot of attention. I guess I stood out. In addition to all the other riff raff, there was a gigantic outdoor mall. After walking around for 30 minutes I felt throughly traumatized and went to take a nap in the van. Desperately I started texting all the friends I knew were from Florida asking them if they had any leads on places to crash for the night. Trying to find a cheap hotel room during spring break is pretty difficult. In fact trying to find an open room cheap or otherwise is basically impossible. Everyone who wrote me back said stay out of Ybor City. I had to laugh as I looked up at a sign visible from the venue parking lot informing me that's exactly where I was.

I was wary upon coming back to Brooklyn when I was greeted with Glen's enthusiastic phone call about a spring break party he was throwing at LuLu's. My urge to stay a shut in for a good week post tour was overcome by my compulsion to be a good friend and I went despite my reservations about the whole spring break concept. It ruled. You know I love to photograph a beer bong. And what's more, I now love me some serious hula-hoop pics. Let's hope that theme stays with us for the summer. Anyone want to make a Target trip and buy some?

Without further adieu, I present to you, Spring Break: Brooklyn Style


DJ Naan Stop aka O.B.G.Y.Glen


The Budweiser shorts make the ladies go straight for the crotch.


"Brad Parsons stole my money"


They made their shirts right before the party.


Audrey was seriously dressed for the occasion


Sean was not (lookin good babe!)


Berkowhatz?


Group shot (featuring the abadoned boyfriends in the background)


The face of mediocre pizza when you've got beer vs the face of mediocre pizza when you don't


The return of the flabongo


Good form!


Hula hoopin head bangin


To everyone's credit, hula hooping is way hard when said hoop has no weight in it.


Still, Annie was a star, in fact I think it was she who got everyone going with the hula hoop in the first place.


I never found out if this was a retro spring break themed outfit (Daytona?) or if this is an everyday look.


Either way it was awesome, silver jangles, bedazzling, all goes so well when paired with a hula hoop.


Dudes just don't look nearly as good, no matter how hard they try.


Beer bong time...unfortunately (or germ/dignitywise maybe fortunately) for me Tommy Gunz left no abandoned unopened non-alcoholic brews sitting around like last time.


Fletcher looks like an add for How to Get Babes 101...the Corona beer poncho.


Here I am having what is apparently the best time ever! Now that's what I call a hula hooping outfit. Thanks Leah.


Coke-a-haunt-us or at least that's what I nicknamed Leah when she had her braids in earlier in the night. Bummer she took them out, she had a good native look going. Even without them, still good look going.


A dude in Budweiser shorts talking a reluctant looking girl into a beer bong. Now that's classic spring break date rape about to happen.


Except that it's Glen and Marsha Brady and they are totally bros and she's smart enough not to trust him. What a pre-bong look of mass suspicion!


Sorry he parties...the parting shot of the night.

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.

More THOR

The whole Thor trek I went on last night was inspired by this memory, which while meant for here also ended up on the Sick Fantasy drug thread.

Here's another scorcher from the annals of my alcoholism.

My bandmate Omid and I had to catch a 6 am flight to Vancouver to interview Canadian heavy metal legend Thor so I did what any tactical drunk would do, decided to stay up all night. I figured given it was an international flight, I should meet my Omid at 3 am, giving us an hour to get to the airport and then another 2 hours to get through security (ahh these post 9/11 times) so I went, suitcase and all, to troll the Ludlow strip.

As I walked in to my first stop, Max Fish, the doorguy stopped me and said, "Hey, you're Jen's friend Beverly, we're supposed to meet." Indeed he and I had a mutual friend and talking about her devolved into shots of Jaeger and singing along to Holocaust's heavy metal mania at the top of our lungs. Seven shots of Jaeger deep more friends showed up and by the time I made it to my (7 years sober) bandmate's house I was completely worthless.

Omid dragged my ass to JFK and somehow they let me on the plane. I didn't know what the fuck was going on when I woke up with a ripping headache midflight several hours later. When we landed I fetched my suitcase from the overhead bin and saw that it was completely covered in IRAK tags as well silver paint pen scrawls from ARE Weapons and Jake.

Still drunk I stumbled to customs where they informed me that I needed either a passport or a state id coupled with my birth certificate to gain entry into Canada. This was right around the time they were changing the rules and I was not aware of this necessity. All I had was drivers license. They told me that I would have to have my luggage searched and if I passed inspection they would allow me into Canada.

At this point I realized what a piece of shit I looked like. Bedraggled, still drunk, with six chains around my neck and a suitcase that said IRAK and ARE WEAPONS and wearing an ASSCHAPEL shirt rolling into town with a man of middle eastern descent wearing a Motorhead shirt didn't look good to say the least. However, despite my shittiness, I had nothing to hide so I agreed to be searched.

Apparently customs agents can detect distant memories because even though I hadn't done blow recently my luggage and purse tested positive for what they termed "significant traces" of cocaine. Then I remembered, a few weeks prior I'd hit it pretty hard with an all-nighter. But being a chick, they weren't even my drugs and I had done laundry since then. I watched them scan my luggage and then pull out my toothbrush for further testing. They did the same with my purse and pulled out my keys. FUCK!

After many accusations and denials we were at a standstill. They said they levels of cocaine did not make me seem like an occasional user and while they didn't care about my personal use, they needed to make sure I wasn't bringing drugs into their country. I was at a loss. It's very hard to defend yourself when you are telling the truth. Suddenly a woman took me aside and walked me to a corner. She told me, "There are two places people generally hide drugs when they are bringing them into the country, in their shoes and in their crotch. We've already checked your shoes..."

I think that must be the point when anyone who is hiding something breaks down and admits it. Since I had no drugs I just looked her in the eye and said, "I've already told you, I don't have any drugs on me, I don't know what else I can do to show you that." And then it was over.

Canada didn't exactly welcome me with open arms. Jon (aka Jon Mikl Thor aka fucking THOR himself) was waiting to pick us up at the airport and he made a comment about how long it had taken us to get through customs. Omid just shook his head in disgust and sighed. Jon took us to get burgers at some legendary Vancouver spot and initially I thought maybe some food would do me good. I was still drunk and beginning that slow painful transition from wasted to a walking waking hangover.

Our burgers arrived and I was doing all right. I ate a few bites then sat there trying to smile and appear attentive and pleasant during my first meeting with Thor himself but a few moments later I had to excuse myself and run to the bathroom. I made it to the stall, but not the toilet. I puked all over the stall, I'm talking projectile vomit all over. I tried to wipe it up with toilet paper but ran out. I hurriedly washed my hands and splashed some cold water on my face before high-tailing it out of the bathroom, but I didn't totally get away with it. As I was exciting the bathroom a middle aged woman was coming in and I heard her gasp, "Oh my god! Some people are just disgusting!" as the door was closing behind me.

I sat back down at the table and stared at my burger. Jon joked about how women never finish their food and Omid just glared. Not a good way to start a three day stretch of interviewing one of your heroes.

That whole "getting kicked out of a thrash band for partying too hard" scenario is starting to make more sense.

Memorial Day Weakend

For the first time in the history of my working life I have Memorial Day weekend off. That shit never happens when you work in retail, but god bless Judi Rosen, we are closed Memorial Day weekend and the 4th of July weekend...hell yeah!

I am adapting to my new existence as a weekend warrior. I am managing The Good The Bad & The Ugly doing all their PR, web sales, and displays. I've never been a proper manager and I find it hilarious that I manage two people...wow, what power! Still it feels good to be trusted with someone's business. I mean I'm not an asshole, I just never got promoted before at my old jobs because I was in school, in a band, touring, and...oh yeah...a huge drunk.















Wow, that last picture...a few months later I was making out with a dude in my room and he knocked over a lamp with a bare bulb. It fell on the bag and we didn't notice until we smelled something burning and realized the heat from the lightbulb burned a hole through the bag. I didn't realize until after I moved out of that sublet that I had in fact burnt the floor and warped a pile of records the bag had been sitting in front on. Gavin Russom, the person I had been subletting from called me and asked if there had been a fire in the apartment while they'd been away. I immediately knew what he was talking about and my stomach sank. There is nothing you can do in that situation but tell the truth, no matter how humiliating it may be. I lost the majority of my $750 deposit replacing multiple rare records and repairing the floor.

One of the above pictures was taken on the Battletorn tour when I was drinking every single night. My first night on the road earned me the nickname "Sister Swagger" and it went downhill from there. It's the picture with Walter, Matt, and me sitting in the back of a pickup truck. It was taken in Minot, North Dakota. I look so terrible, so bloated and unhealthy. I can joke about it now, but when I came home from that tour my pants didn't fit me anymore. I gained about 15 pounds in a month and it took a long time for my body to recover from that abuse, and my relationship with my bandmate never did recover. Harsh.

Anyway, I'm in charge of someone's livelihood and am not scared about it. It's a good feeling. Looking back, I get it. I know why I wasn't ever a manager at Beacon's Closet. Maybe the constant hangover puking in the bathroom, showing up still drunk reeking of vodka had something to do with it. Who knows?

I got an invitation from a friend to go to a house upstate for the weekend. All I want to do is run around in the woods and sit in front of a fire. Far away from beer-soaked memories and city walls.