Friday, July 30, 2004


Good Morning Noon!

I wrote this entry yesterday but I erased it beacuse--well, I just did. Sorry about deleting your comment, Claire.

I have out-done myself sleeping wise. I sleep until noon-thirty today, and I took a three hour nap yesterday. I finally feel well-rested. And Athena snuggled with me all night. I also put all my laundry away.

I guess you shouldn't write in your blog just as soon as you wake up.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004



Lindsay and i just had a kick ass dinner of rib eye steak and mashed cauliflower and corn on the cob and sweet onions. We went to the hardware store down the street to buy a grill.

I took a long nap this afternoon. I take a nap everyday now. If I don't I get really grumpy.

Lindsay is in a cleaning kick--I think that I initiated it the other day by doing the dishes--and is asking me all the time, "Ames, do we need these dead flowers? Ames, what about this bottle of wine?" And I say, "Whatever."

It looks like we've decided, all of us, that Chris is going to move in when he gets here. I'm feeling less and less weird about living with my boyf, and more and more excited about living with Chris. The one down fall will be that we're going to lose our mal-used "studio"/"Amanda's old room"/"Den." Which is kind of a shame because we just started installing/painting in there this week.

I should shower now so that I don't smell like lighter fluid and butter.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004


Action Team, GO!

Now that I've been promoted to full DAT (Disaster Action TEAM!) I have a trunk full of Red Cross gear: two jackets, one poncho, relief kits, two army blankets, two binders, tons of different paper-work stuff, stuffed animals, giant plastic bags, and on and on. They even offered me a job.


This afternoon Lindsay and I are going to go record sounds in the industrial disrtict.

Last night I dreamt of infidelity and a Thanksgiving dinner where I burned every dish in an unreliable oven.

Sunday, July 25, 2004


Fried Eggs

You remember those "This is your brain on drugs" commercials where this guy's hand cracks open and egg and drops it into a really nice cast-iron type skillet? That's what my brain feels like, though I am proud to say that I am not on drugs. What I am on, though, is super nasty intense heat all day out in the sun saying "You want a bag for that or you gonna eat that now?" I almost cried because the mushroom vendor guy yelled at me for talking on the cell phone as I was packing up my van to leave. Then I got back to work and wanted to quit. I didn't though, most likely because it was air-conditioned. I sat at home with my feet in a pot of ice-water and watched disc two of Chappelle's Show. Now that I have NetFlix I feel like anything is possible. The first season of The Kids in the Hall is coming next.

Anyway my brain is still fried up and I want to spend some Q.T. with Amanda and Katie and Sarah and Shauna, but I can't seem to think. And, yes, I am drinking plenty of water, thanks for asking. I just am super sensitive to heat. I don't know why, but I am. I remember spending all day in my neighbors' pools, never leaving the water until my lips turned blue. What I need is to go to the pool. Maybe tomorrow I'll swing by the Sellwood pool and fight some kids for their water toys. "Hey, brat," I'll say. "I'm gonna kick your ass. You want a bag for that or are you gonna eat it now?"

Friday, July 23, 2004


Oh, Baby!

So, I got the call at 12:30 that it was time to birth a baby. And I was already packed up so I ran right over there, and Ann and Mark were pleased to see me. Dominick, the first baby, Baby #1, was asleep. Mark was very thorough in his tour of the house, and how to use the coffee machine. Ann went and sat in the car because she felt sick. I guess being in labor isn't much fun.

They left and I walked around a bit, read and re-read their four page instruction sheet. I put on my pajamas and set the alarm for early in the morning so I could have some time to make coffee and settle myself. I watched some TV, and, ungh, Halle Berry was on Conan. So I watched the Lehrer News Hour instead. Then Chris called, a bit drunk, and we talked for a long time until I couldn't stay awake. I fell right asleep, but woke up every hour or so. Finally I got up, made coffee, and went back to sleep. Then, it was morning.

Dominick has never in his short little life woken up without his mom or dad around, and he was shocked to see me there. I spent a good half hour reading the note his mom wrote to him over and over, and eventually convinced him to let me change his diaper. Then, breakfast, then a lot of playing with numbers and adding and subtracting.

"I'm number eight," I said, "because I am too tired to stand up. And you're number one because you can stand up."

It went smoothly from there. He learned how to use the calculator on my phone, and how to take pictures. I posted a picture that he took of me, and a picture that I took of him.

Mark came home at eleven. There's a new baby, Baby #2, a little girl, and everything went really well. I'm back at home now, and about to pass out.

Dominick gave me a hug goodbye. That was awesome!

Thursday, July 22, 2004


Maybe, Baby!

How can I be such a pooh sometimes?

I got a call from Ann today, saying she might be popping out baby number two tonight, and could I come over if she is? I said, sure, just let me know, give me a call. And then, I go to the K Records Summer Dance Party thing at the Crystal. I really only went because I knew that Steve (or as John and Matthew call him, "States Rights Steve") would be there, and I haven't seen him since before I went to France. I paid my eight bucks, went in, saw Steve right away. I gave him a medium amount of shit for not returning my email, and he apologized and I said, no, it's cool. Steve has a lot of friends, he's a really friendly guy, and all these people kept interrupting our catching-up session. So I was all, I'm gonna go upstairs and check it out. And then I saw Kirk (Amanda's friend) and Emily and John and Patrick. And I stood there all awkward with John and Emily and Patrick for about ten minutes, then said, "I'm going to take a walk." And then I walked right out of there, gave a homeless guy some money and walked to my car.

I hate shows, and it's so hot everywhere, and there were so many people, and I was all anxious about the baby possibility. Typical. Just typical.

Oh well. I'll know soon enough if there's a baby a-coming. Still, I don't know nothing 'bout birthin' no babies. (Props to Shelley for that joke.)

Tuesday, July 20, 2004


This is a boring entry.

It's Tuesday again. I made some bread pudding last night and it turned out pretty good. We had all this old, stale bread, and I couldn't let it go to waste. So I had bread pudding for dessert last night (Shauna came over and had some, too), and bread pudding for breakfast this morning.

I fixed up my resume this morning. I printed out a copy and now maybe I'll drop it off at Tiny's. I also have various errands to run such as depositing my paycheck, grocery shopping.

I have come up with some killer beats. That is something to look forward to.

Monday, July 19, 2004


Sonic Universe Goes Boom

I've spent today cutting up ambient recordings. I have a high tolerance for that kind of thing, but not that high.

Tiny's is hiring. The thought crosses my mind: maybe I should apply. But what would happen if the only place I like to come and hang out becomes another place of work. I don't think it's a good idea for me to work here, although it seems like a lot of fun, and I'm totally qualified.

Anyway, Lindsay has commisioned Animal Kingdom to make a piece for her Locher installation. So far I've done a lot of division. I like rules and music together. Except that this won't be music, it'll be ambience on a recorded loop. Several loops, all factors of 360 (six minutes times sixty seconds). Several loops layered and beginning and ending at different times. Might it be awesome? It might.

I've been listening to The Beattles in the car, and heard "Across the Universe" on my drive here. I'm addicted to that song. I've started a cover but I don't know . . . I've gotten lazy in the heat and don't feel up to manufacturing synth sounds all day. Plus, I know that licensing a Beattles song means giving money to Michael Jackson. Right?

The Gender Party was fun yesterday--my co-worker's wife has switched gender identity to be now my co-worker's husband. Well, since they got married as lesbians, what happens now? Is their marriage valid no matter what? I smell some investigative reporting.

Friday, July 16, 2004


I'm way more Indie than you

Maybe I've acquired some sort of Zen Mastery, but work has been
affecting me so little lately. My guess is that it has something to do
with the plethora of other projects in my life, things I need to do
other than wait tables.

I finished reading an article that Lindsay gave me, "Why Have There
Been No Great Women Artists?" I read it in light of my experiences in
the (Portland) Indie scene. Why, I ask myself, are there so few women
in these bands? Why are women presented as the sexy front-woman or the
sexy bass-player, but almost never the creative force? (There are
exceptions: Mirah, Sleater-Kinney et. al.) The women I encounter, the
women who hang around the boys in the bands, they seem to me little
more than pretty ornaments who maybe design clothes or knit, or make
crafts, but not musicians, not performers. A lot of why I miss Claire
(and Marian, for that matter) is that I miss having women
collaborators, women performers. I don't find myself striving to
perform, even though I love being on stage and playing music. Why do I
make all this music? Why don't I feel like I should share it with
others by performing?

I have an answer as to why I don't perform.

Wanna hear it?

Because I see the whole playing shows, booking venues, schmoozing thing
as one giant Men's Club. I'm not saying that it is, I'm saying that
that's how I see it. I feel out of place. I feel out of place because I
want to be seen as an artist on their level, but I feel awkward talking
about what I do. Awkward because a) I don't like to brag, and b) I
don't want to sound stupid.

The thing is, 99% of the time the men friends that I have who are
musicians seem genuinely interested in what I do, and are supportive
and kind and encouraging. They also seem a little bit surprised when I
talk about the kind of music I make, the kind of things I can do.

So, where's the problem?

Do you know?

Thursday, July 15, 2004


Nap from Hell

I just woke up from the most fitful nap I've had since last summer. Napping on a full belly does not do me good. I read three hundred and thirty five four panel comics about a robot and his porn-star girlfriend, Diesel Sweeties, and so that's what I dreamt about. I had mini-nightmares. Mini-nightmares about things like walking into a big spider web filled with spiders.

Lunch with Lisa and Douglas and Lindsay at Gravy was really yummy, although I think I made food choices that were a bit too heavy. Biscuit and sausage gravy, Bacato omelet, fruit bowl. That's most likely why I had all those bad dreams. I should know better than to nap in the summer.


Our Love's Becoming a Thing of the Past

That's the last song I heard at work tonight. Those Shirelles . . . sigh. I spent most of the day web-designing. Lindsay's new pooch is turning out to be spectacular. The cats seem to be adjusting alright.

Lindsay took me to yoga down the street today. It was really nice and I liked the instructor and her attitude. I miss yoga. It's totally my type of exercise. "Now, lay down and stretch out and breath." Boo, yay! I can do that! I can do anything!

I had a lot of customers tonight that were regulars and really awesome. Also, a gaggle of hippies showed up ten minutes before close and were all, "We want three thousand beer floats, now." Ugh. Hippies. But they were nice (some of them helped bring stuff in). Steve helped get them out. That was awesome! And, I made good money. I like good money.

I got a friend request from one of those people I knew back in High School who I thought was really cool and interesting and super, but I was a bit afraid/intimidated by. I wrote her a message saying that. Does that make me creepy? "I was always fascinated by you." Too late now.

Tomorrow will be brunch with Douglas and Lisa and hopefully Lindsay (I hope!), and then more web stuff, then maybe another chapter in the novel (see the Measure of Permanence link). Then, maybe, some crazy fun! Like, Karaoke? Dinner with Greg and Lindsay, because Greg's leaving. I can't believe all these things that are happening. But I seem to be doing OK.

The more tired I am, the more exclamation marks I use. I think that's strange!

Wednesday, July 14, 2004


Another Day, Another Web Design

I am all hot now, and Lindsay has a new dog, so all the windows are closed to keep the cats inside. Giant poo.

If this heat keeps up . . . I don't know what I'll do. I have to do something. But what? Go to the river? Drive out to the coast?

I'm going to re-pot some plants now.

Monday, July 12, 2004


Giant Poop

The stock is still boiling down, so I have some late night time to write.

I spent all day evening and night at the PDX POP! Festival, and I met some really interesting, friendly, funny people. I got to guard the doors, count people, drink water, smoke cigarettes, give away cigarettes, and go to the after party. I wish I had just gone home, though.

A lot of what I loved about the festival was squashed at the after party, and if the after party had happened first, I wouldn't have gone to the festival. It became so very scenester in a way. I had a bad bad taste in my mouth after what turned out to be an awesome day.

I need to listen to that voice that tells me what to do. When it said, "Go home and check on your veggie stock," I should've just come back here.

Saturday, July 10, 2004


Peaceful Easy Feeling

I left work before the eleven rush, and had a beer at the Hedge House and a cookie, too, with Shauna, and now I'm on the front porch all relaxed and happy. It's nice out, cool and breezy. Simon, our dishwasher, and I decided to communicate using only song lyrics tonight. Example: I couldn't open the ice cream and I sang to him: "Open your heart to me, baby." He couldn't open it either, so I sprayed it with water and then it opened.

I have a day ahead of me tomorrow because I need to do the deposit and be around in case it gets too busy at brunch. I like this extra responsibility that I've been given. It makes me feel a certain ownership for things and how they go at work. I like that.

I feel all around good. Here's a story Lindsay told me today. The night before Noah's grandfather's memorial service, Lindsay got unexpectedly drunk. She got so drunk that she didn't remember asking Noah to marry her, not once, not twice, but a whole bunch of times. I think that Lindsay and I are in the same boat in some way. "Sometimes I just think we should get engaged and agree that this is it and that that's OK," she said. Marriage. How is it that fifty years ago getting married was completely expected of us at this age, and that it would be totally normal for us to want it. Now it feels wrong to want it. (And I'm not talking about ethical objections concerning the equitable nature of the institution.) But want it I do. I don't feel the need to get married; in fact, I don't want to get married just because I don't want to be alone.

Then again, I don't like the idea of wearing an engagement ring, or all the things that in my mind go along with that. What I want is a partnership on all sorts of levels: creative, procreative, financial, emotional, etc. I've been exposed to two marriages recently that I admire. One is Douglas and Lisa's, the other is Leila and Zachary/Carrie's. I see two distinct people, two interesting and creative people, who love each other and love being around each other and care about each other's welfare. Also, let me add Ann and Marc to that list, too. (They are a bit more traditional in that they have babies and all, but Marc is the primary caregiver.) I also don't want to be in a marriage that cuts me off from the rest of the world, or in which I am perceived as half of a whole.

The fact that I was tempted to stay in Austin, when asked (by Chris' parents and other people) why it was that I had to go back to Portland, makes me a bit uneasy. Who is this person? And here I thought I was so independent and tough. Love does strange things.



I don't want to get out of bed, I just don't and if I could avoid it all day that would be great, although I'd like to see a movie today, too. One of those new movies in the big theaters. I've already been out of bed today, and I even left the house to get brunch and a stuffed creature with Lindsay. I am posting a camera phone image of it right now. I've been in a cranky bad mood all day because I'm hungover from whiskey--not much.

Last night I almost passed out at work, but I squatted down in the kitchen and then I was OK. I need to eat on a more regular schedule or something, or at least I need to take breaks to eat when I work for eight hours. I made some good money last night, though. And maybe again tonight I will make some good money. Then tomorrow I am going to be volunteering at the PDXPOP! festival. That will be fun, I hope. But what I really want to do, above all else, is see a movie.

There are other things to do, like make the website work. These things would be nice to do if I knew how to do them. "It's not my department," I could always say. Or, "Your server will be right with you."

Thursday, July 08, 2004


Second Bill of Rights

I just read this in Harper's.

FDR said in his State of the Union (January 11, 1944) that in addition to our right to freedom of speech, etc, and in order to enjoy such rights as guaranteed by the Bill of Rights, American citizens should have a Second Bill of Rights, which includes:

"The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation;

The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation;

The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living;

The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad;

The right of every family to a decent home;

The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health;

The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment;

The right to a good education."

Now, is it just me, or does this seem radical? Badical, even. Just imagine living in a nation like the one FDR proposes. It seems so obviously right, this "freedom from want." But imagine just how much things would have to change. It makes me tingle inside.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004


back on the chain gang

Portland is cool and dry compared to Austin, Portland is lovely and my tomato plant has ripened. I've already been back to work, just for a few minutes.

I slept on the plane, slept and slept and slept, and I read The New Yorker, too. It was an uneventful series of take-offs and landings, except the flight attendant on the Austin to Las Vegas leg kept telling jokes and singing songs over the intercom. I was too tired in the morning to be sad. Perhaps I'd already been sad enough the night before.

Yesterday was the fifth anniversary of my dad dying. I'm always aware of it, but still the grief creeps up on me in some strange ways. For instance, the fear of abandonment sneaks into other areas of my life. After the honeymoon is over, life sets in, and distance. There are different types of distance. Distances that can be closed, distances that can be lessened, distances that are unbridgable.

I'm going to lie down now, and rest a bit. I can't quite process.

Tuesday, July 06, 2004



This week has been all web designing, navel gazing, music making, quiet times, and just a pinch of raucousness. For instance, last night we went to Beer Land with Debbie to sing karaoke with Satan's Cheerleaders. Then we wandered down Sixth Street into various free dance clubs and into Boyz Cellar, the gay bar the Debbie likes. I have a secret crush on Debbie. One of the KJs had on these really short red shorts and white heels and was all sexy like, but managed somehow not to be cute. It was confusing.

The thing about vacation is this: if it didn't end, it wouldn't be a vacation. Having this set amount of time together, and budgeting how we want to spend it exactly, and not getting things done that we thought we would, and doing things that we certainly had not planned to do, all of this has been very relaxing because there was no schedule. If we wanted to stay up until five in the morning recording, we could. If we wanted to get up early and make crepes, we could. If we wanted to close the door on the rest of the party and dance until we were out of breath, we could. If we wanted to play chess on the floor, and if we wanted to tell each other to take back a move because that would've been checkmate and we wanted to keep playing, we could.

It's the kind of thing where you wouldn't have it any other way.

Monday, July 05, 2004


Bang! Boom! Zwee!

The Fourth of July was an afternoon in the creek being pulled downstream by the warm current, playing unconscious, playing Baywatch, eating Jumbo Corn Dogs and gigantic Turkey Legs, listening to the out of phase Austin Symphony, fireworks on the giant lawn, and falling asleep intimacy. It was my favorite.

In other news, I haven't been smoking--not intentionally, but I feel fine. It's too hot to smoke here.

Chris tried on these jeans at his mom's work and they looked so good, but cost about as much as a flight to Portland. It's hard to balance things like that in one's head. Because you can have those jeans for a long time. And you can consequently look damn good.

Sunday, July 04, 2004

this is an audio post - click to play

Saturday, July 03, 2004


She act way different with dick in her

Chris is taking a shower, and there's an A.A. meeting outside his window. It's not as intolerably humid and hot as I thought it would be. Last night I got to meet almost all of the Austin crowd. I felt really weird in the beginning because this girl who Chris sorta did for a while doesn't much care to have me around--she's 18, what can you do? I remember being 18 and I remember being irrational and such. Anyway, once she and her contingent left I felt a lot more comfortable. And then all the cool kids showed up and stuck around. Jeff played guitar and sang, Isaac danced and his girlfriend was super nice and cute. Jeff's sister Christen was a riot. Hayden and I talked about Georgia. Hank showed me the moon up close. My favorite was Debbie, though. If Shauna and Melinda had a baby she would be something like Debbie. She also had a tie, and I think ties are hott.

There's a lot of stuff that's happened, but I don't have the focus right now. I'll tell you all later.

Thursday, July 01, 2004


Texas is Warmer

Here I am in a climate controlled coffee shop down the street from Chris's apartment. It's sunny and humid outside, and not altogether unpleasant. Air travel really freaks me out because this time yesterday I was all two thousand miles away and nobody should be able to go that far that fast. Not even Jesus.

The iced coffee is equally good here. Chris is throwing a party Friday night. We have some web design to do. I feel closer to Mexico.


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