these days
i am playing a lot of ukulele, and not taking photos.
i'm attending 9/9/09 dance parties with flaming absinthe, fire dancers, and dyke rap battles that extend into porch-sitting and making waffles deep into 9/10/09, recovering a lil bit and going to 9/11 "never forget, never stop dancing" parties complete with wax box bonfire, paper planes, punx doing interpretive dance, and just about everyone I know. i'm watching bad 90's movies and going to shows and missing out on shows and failing miserably at dumpster diving ALL AROUND TOWN because it was thursday, juggling prospective lovers and doing dishes at the deli and running the Blackrose bake sale/zine sale at Last Thursday, drinkin ladytime tea and going to western-themed parties that are too easy because I always look like a cowgirl, packing and mending and getting rid of everything i own in preperation for living nowhere in particular for the next month, and sending letters!!!! soon!
somewhere in there was this really huge drama about two of my really good, super anarchist activist friends breaking up, and the one i was way closer to leaving town to like become a lawyer or some shit. midlife crisis. but he's back now? and they're together again and fine? it was all really weird.
yesterday i went to stankhouse to play Don't Let's Start for Teague on the ukulele, as he would appreciate it most. he gave me a REALLY AMAZING iron-on dancing milkshake and fries patch, we went foodstamp grocery-shoppin with bri and went back to the house to make soup. LO AND BEHOLD, bill tells us about a movie scene being filmed at a friend's house that they need extras for. i was excited about the movie, he was excited about the free pizza and beer. 6 of us went to this mystery place and it ended up being my friend jordi's house, it was just an art school thing but the hot creepy bright movie lights were all set up, and the huge cameras, and the actors...
so, i'm in a movie. i do not know what it's called yet. i am walking through a room with my friend teague, drinking a beer, talking about the fourth dimension. we walk out of scene onto the front porch and a guy in a wheelchair is rolled inside and forced to shotgun a beer.
it was pretty awkward but then the rest of the flannel crew, and some people from the deli showed up and it turned into a legit party.
in other news, my mom, a stupid boy, a girl who sells ice cream, and a friend in japan all had their birthdays today! my mom is turning 40. stupid boy is in the desert being lame. friend in japan is most likely doing something amazing, i'm on my way to ice cream girl's tea party at the bluffs, i have to dress up and bake something and write down the tab for 'happy birthday' on the uke cuz it's hella easy but fuck fingerpicking, yo.
10/11/09 edit: the movie is called Bus Map, that's all I know. fingerpicking is amazing.
i'm attending 9/9/09 dance parties with flaming absinthe, fire dancers, and dyke rap battles that extend into porch-sitting and making waffles deep into 9/10/09, recovering a lil bit and going to 9/11 "never forget, never stop dancing" parties complete with wax box bonfire, paper planes, punx doing interpretive dance, and just about everyone I know. i'm watching bad 90's movies and going to shows and missing out on shows and failing miserably at dumpster diving ALL AROUND TOWN because it was thursday, juggling prospective lovers and doing dishes at the deli and running the Blackrose bake sale/zine sale at Last Thursday, drinkin ladytime tea and going to western-themed parties that are too easy because I always look like a cowgirl, packing and mending and getting rid of everything i own in preperation for living nowhere in particular for the next month, and sending letters!!!! soon!
somewhere in there was this really huge drama about two of my really good, super anarchist activist friends breaking up, and the one i was way closer to leaving town to like become a lawyer or some shit. midlife crisis. but he's back now? and they're together again and fine? it was all really weird.
yesterday i went to stankhouse to play Don't Let's Start for Teague on the ukulele, as he would appreciate it most. he gave me a REALLY AMAZING iron-on dancing milkshake and fries patch, we went foodstamp grocery-shoppin with bri and went back to the house to make soup. LO AND BEHOLD, bill tells us about a movie scene being filmed at a friend's house that they need extras for. i was excited about the movie, he was excited about the free pizza and beer. 6 of us went to this mystery place and it ended up being my friend jordi's house, it was just an art school thing but the hot creepy bright movie lights were all set up, and the huge cameras, and the actors...
so, i'm in a movie. i do not know what it's called yet. i am walking through a room with my friend teague, drinking a beer, talking about the fourth dimension. we walk out of scene onto the front porch and a guy in a wheelchair is rolled inside and forced to shotgun a beer.
it was pretty awkward but then the rest of the flannel crew, and some people from the deli showed up and it turned into a legit party.
in other news, my mom, a stupid boy, a girl who sells ice cream, and a friend in japan all had their birthdays today! my mom is turning 40. stupid boy is in the desert being lame. friend in japan is most likely doing something amazing, i'm on my way to ice cream girl's tea party at the bluffs, i have to dress up and bake something and write down the tab for 'happy birthday' on the uke cuz it's hella easy but fuck fingerpicking, yo.
10/11/09 edit: the movie is called Bus Map, that's all I know. fingerpicking is amazing.