i’m totally exhausted!

i’m listening to... crustation with bronagh slevin.

i have a million events to plan and such and i want nunnnnnaaaaaeeet. hard to pay attention. maybe it’s the weather… maybe it’s more general… dude, i have no idea… .. . i just know that i lit a fire under my own ass two nights ago and now it’s gone already… it’s just the whole… “i feel like i have it in the bag!” thing, only to discover that the bag disappeared. (the bag disappearing being fucked up shit with the event i’m throwing in new york… ughhhhh. cryptacize.)

—

[about last night...] >>> a draft which will be changed out later…

It was one A.M., and I was returning to my bicycle after a midnight lunch date with my friend Blake, who works night shifts. We had just had a deep conversation about ethics and the social responsibilities of individuals who wish to do right in the world, and I was feeling pensive. It took me a second to realize a man had abruptly emerged to my right, walking with me along my route. He apologized for his stealth and for startling me; I responded with, “It’s cool, man.” He in fact had not startled me, so lost in thought I was.

Dressed in multi-colored layers of sweatshirts and vests, the man was quite obviously homeless. He dove right in, the first words out of his mouth being rants. But he stated them in a way that was more like a camp counselor animatedly telling tales than of complete nutcases screaming obscenities, and I felt no fear. Gesturing slightly behind us, he shared, “That woman is insane!” but I saw no woman behind us; in fact, I saw no one behind us. The question, then, was whether he had pulled a woman from his mind’s fiction, or whether he had encountered her quite long ago and bitterly sustained the memory until he was finally able to release it upon another unsuspecting soul. Unbeknownst to me at the time, that question would reemerge throughout the conversation, as I debated whether the events he described were truly myth or reality.

As we passed Powell’s bookstore, he discovered a clove on the ground and picked it up, all the while verbally announcing that he didn’t particularly care for cloves but wanted a smoke. He was kind enough to ask me if I was a smoker, though these were only slight tangents from his life story, which he simply couldn’t share quickly enough. Through his rapid-fire reveals, I gathered that he had formerly been a Merchant Marine who found it abominable that a ship was docked in the city’s port without the proper permits, the boat’s mere existence supposedly a threat to the health of the water in the surrounding area. He also mentioned had recently been picked up by the police for trespassing, and had subsequently been driven thirty miles out of town to a jail, where he had to pay more than two hundred dollars to leave. Everything he spoke of was tangential, like fragments radiating outwards to smaller and smaller ends. Continuity was minimal, each varying exploration into a different subject matter criss-crossing with any number of the others, weaving a stringy mess of webbed information that my brain could barely comprehend, much less provide proper documentation of.

I soon discovered his name was Shermann — with two N’s, as he was quick to point out. Shermann seemed a proper man. His mind was without a doubt deteriorating, but his spirit seemed intact. At no point was he rude — generally quite the opposite, in fact. He questioned me about myself as though he actually cared, and surprisingly, he remembered when I told him that I was Chinese and that I had an older brother. Humorously, he questioned how my brother would like me talking to a white guy, and I could only say, “It’s cool, man; we grew up in a white neighborhood,” and he replied, “Oh okay,” but later made the same ludicrous point, insinuating that my brother would probably beat him up for being a white man who was wasting my time. He incorrectly assumed — firstly, that I lived with my brother; secondly, that my brother would give a shit; thirdly, that my brother would at all think Shermann was trying to date me if he were to see the two of us together.

Shermann also apologized on numerous occasions for wasting my time. But though he would apologize, he would again resume speaking, perhaps because he needed to; at one point, he noted that he simply needed someone to talk to about his problems — though not in so many words. Instead, he chose to spend his word usage in ways my mind cannot even begin to comprehend or recall. Shermann spouted off so much advanced terminology that I was unsure of whether he was crafting new words on the fly or rehashing bits of knowledge he had explored in the distant past. By mixing in scientific — or pseudo-scientific — terminology with sociolinguistic garble and themes as widely varied as conspiracy theories, government figureheads, and space shuttle landings, everything was confused diction evading all dictation.

I was left baffled. What did I know concretely? Shermann had mentioned that he was a former Merchant Marine, that the government had left his veteran self without financial aid, and that he was trying to make his way back to Idaho Falls by way of a job he had just attained for moving concrete at a rate of $15 an hour. All of these things seemed unequivocally true, but the things he mentioned outside of himself begged one to dissect Shermann’s life.

After discovering I was Chinese and could read some Chinese characters, Shermann pulled a Chinese newspaper from his bag. Cigarette burns had burned off faces of realtors and other advertisers, but to Shermann, these faces he had burned did not belong to realtors; they belonged to political figureheads of Korean descent whom he had known personally — though they were clearly in a Chinese newspaper, their names Chinese, to boot.

He wished for me to decode the newspaper for him, but my skills were lacking. He proceeded to dissect the content for me. He had fashioned many a tale despite not being able to read the text; from the photographs, he had crafted fully-encapsulated back stories. A photo of a man swathed in military garb inspired a list of names — John F. Kennedy, Dwight D. Eisenhower, and so on — with hints towards conspiracies. He questioned me about the names by posing questions without roots; I had no idea what his goals were, but knew only that he was asking questions from the intonations in his voice. Being as ignorant of presidential knowledge as I am, I had little stock with which to answer to his gubernatorial inquiries, but I did vaguely catch one point, where he was, I believe, asking me whether it was a grand idea for one to sue the government for leaving veterans behind. But even this line of questioning was difficult to ascertain, for there was no clear end and no beginning, thematic continuity dissolving in his head just as soon as he spoke of it.

The culmination of narrative bliss, though, lied on the back cover of the newspaper. There, a full-color spread with plenty of photographs highlighted a space shuttle take-off. Again, Shermann barraged me with scientific and pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo, but there are a few points I sifted from the debris — about space shuttles flying upside-down and being powered by coals, about secret miniature robots emerging from asteroids during the FDR-era, about certain equipment in space shuttles being formed from liquid titanium despite resembling plastic to the layman.

All of Shermann’s impassioned ramblings led me to wonder what his past was truly like. Had he truly seen some insanity as a veteran? Had he once been a brilliant man whose mind had simply deteriorated? How much was fiction, how much fact? There were no answers here, though. No ends and no beginnings, for even if one wished to question Shermann about the roots of his stories, they would most likely be long gone, banished to a world where even the storyteller himself could no longer distinguish fact from fiction.

horrible disputes.

anger freaks me out. ever since i was young and had to experience it intensely firsthand. ick. on the plus side, it has made me a mega-pacifist, and i pretty much never get explosively angry.

but to quote some arguing homeless (i assume) outside my window:

lady (at the top of her lungs): FAGGOT!!!
lady: i want my money! i fucking got those cans!
dude: you didn’t get shit!
lady: faggot!
dude: go get you one, bitch!
dude: get yourself a motherfucking nigger while you’re at it. im pretty sure you can find one that’s a motherfucking nigger and a faggot!

>/

recap central: england, day four: london.

friday, march 5th, 2010.
So in the morning, Jericho didn’t show up when he was supposed to. We called him a zillion thousand times, and it turned out, he said his aunt and uncle had fixed him breakfast (he was staying with them), so he couldn’t just peace out. The frustrating part was, he sent us Facebook messages telling us he couldn’t make it, even though he knew we didn’t have internet. In total, I must have spent like 5 or 6 pounds that morning trying to call him. Really kinda frustrating.

First stop was St. ____’s Park or something… which is supposedly the most beautiful Square in all of London… except we found St. ____’s Park or something, which was a teeny tiny little square… and we were like taking photos in it and thinking, “This thing sucks. It’s quaint, but… what the hell!” Then we realized we were totally off base and the real park was actually pretty good. Images from the real park:

Someone was feeding birds and freaking Sherry out.

More bird. This bird was a total homie and kept following us around ^__^

We then went to Buckingham Palace, where Jericho met up with us. I mean, I’d seen it before and wasn’t particularly impressed, but this time was major boredom times a million zillion thousand hundred million. It went on forever, and Jericho and Lori had pressed up to the front while we stayed at the back (we had both seen it; they had not seen it), hoping we could leave but not wanting to rush them in case they were actually enjoying the abominably boring procession. If you’ve never been to London, take it from me, motherfuckers: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE IS BORING AS HELL AND CROWDED AS HECK. DON’T WASTE YOUR TIME!

These ladies, in their various stages of bag-holding, really amused me…

After that, we tried to walk to the bus stop where we could partake in the Big Bus Sightseeing Tour! Woooo. Since Lori and Sherry didn’t have much time, it was the quickest way to see everything… we just did one loop all the way through.

Eventually, we landed near Big Ben and tried to go to Westminster Abbey, but there was something keeping us from going to it, so that was slated for the next day, bright and early. We wandered around a bit and walked kinda aimlessly and ended up going to this random restaurant to eat Fish & Chips. It wasn’t particularly delicious. I had a veggie burger and it was hands down the worst veggie burger ever. Blah. Afterwards, the other three wanted to go on the London Eye, but I didn’t want to cause it was expensive, so we made an appointment to meet at Tate Modern (Tate Modern, Bankside, London SE1 9TG). I was pretty convinced that they would take longer than I, but we ended up arbitrarily picking a time to meet. I ended up going to a nearby coffee shop and working on my laptop. One of the workers there — whose business card I got but I think I never emailed him, oops — wanted me to work with him cause he said it was difficult for him to find quality graphic designers to work with, blahblah. He didn’t realize I didn’t live in London, but figured it out… when I told him. Haha.

So finally I left to go meet the friends, and the sun was starting to set. I was kinda in a rush cause I was late, but it turns out they were very late as well. I walked along the waterfront, enjoying myself, for the most part.

One homeless guy stopped me and said all he wanted was money for a hot cocoa. I told him I didn’t want to give him money, but that I’d go with him even though I was in a rush. He said there was a shop right nearby, so we went to Pie Minister (24 Stokes Croft, Bristol BS1 3PR, London), a really super adorable pie shop that also sold drinks. They were closing, but the guy who was working there — a very extremely nice chap — let us in. He was so nice! I saw that I was buying the guy a drink, and he made the drink and tried to make small talk, and made this really nice hot cocoa — quite lovingly, I’d say — and gave it to us for free. I was quite smitten with him but I ran outta there quite quickly Had a schedule to keep ~__~

Except the road along the waterfront was closed — the worker told me this — so I had to make a detour around the bridge and it took quite forever to get to Tate Modern. I called Jericho along the way to tell him I’d be late, but they were all late, too. I got there and was in the gift shop forever, and they finally found me but said they had entered somewhere else. Of course.

And so it went, hanging out at Tate Modern. I can’t say I remember all of the stuff we saw, unfortunately. Shit. I have a horrible memory.

gotta get give!

My Turkey trip is supposed to leave tomorrow. I was supposed to fly to Oakland this morning, but I was so convinced the trip wouldn’t be happening (read: Icelandic volcano) that I re-booked my flight to Oakland for tomorrow. It cost me $130 extra, but like I said, I was convinced. Well, the thing is, my friends, that it looks like the flight to Turkey is on. In many, many ways, it’s kind of terrifying, because we don’t actually know what the volcano will look like a week from now. Or hell, even tomorrow. Or hell, if Katla, the more “violent” volcano, is going to blow in addition to the current one.

Moving onwards. But first, I just have to say, I was on that freaking glacier where the volcano is now! The secret powers! Zomg! I could be angry about the Turkey stuff being all weird and unclear, but I’m not. Being in the power of nature, which can throw all of man’s plans for a loop however the fuck it wants to and decides to, is kind of amazing. What’s more — the volcano is affecting globalized Western nations. No longer is it an offshore earthquake in some third-world country. It’s so much more real. And granted, the people afflicted aren’t suffering in as real ways as, say, earthquake victims, but that’s to be expected, really…

Anyway.

I haven’t deposited checks in a while to my personal account because I’ve been, on all accounts, quite fuckig broke! I have had enough money to pay for my credit card bills, but for the past month {?}, I’ve been living off of credit cards — aka, one month in advance. Which is really nice. I know a lot of people are against credit cards, but I don’t think there’s any reason to be against them if you’re a responsible person who can pay bills on time. Don’t spend what you don’t have… it’s not that complicated. But in emergency cases like cases of emergency poorness, credit cards are certainly quite a fucking help.

So I got some checks which came in recently, so I’m now out of the red, I think. Well, thank god! To celebrate, today I went to go deposit my checks. It’s about a half mile walk each way to the bank. Ladida. The bank is across the street from Fred Meyer. I decided to go into Fred Meyer to pick myself up some light dinner. The idea was salad. There was a homeless guy selling the local homeless newspaper, Street Roots, outside of Fred Meyer, and I kinda didn’t pay too much attention to him when I was walking in, which I realized as I was walking in. I decided to buy him some food… I thought about an apple or a banana, but I remembered being rejected — on that same street — of an offer for an apple because the person I was giving it to was allergic to them. I opted for soup instead, because it’s kind of a cold and rainy day. Of course, keeping myself in mind, I got two variations of soup — choice, my friends! — so that I could keep one for myself and eat it myself. Settled on broccoli cheddar (the one I actually wanted) and a crab chowder. Also bought this lovely little 99 cent bundle of foccacia bread, which I’m sure was just delicious! I approached the guy outside, and he bared a toothless smile. I told him I’d bought him soup, if he was interested. I had one soup in each hand, and he said he was interested, and opened up both palms to take in both the soups. “One of them’s mine,” I told him, “but you can pick!” He picked the broccoli cheddar. Of course. I swear, every time I give a choice, they always pick the choice I want. Hahahahaha. It’s kinda funny.

Anyway. So I gave him the soup and went on, crab chowder in hand and crackers in pocket. Of course, two blocks down, was another homeless man. An older black man with dreadlocks, holding a sign that says, “Anything helps,” or something along those lines. Well, how can I deny him? Shit. I just gave the other guy some soup. Now I have to give this guy some soup… so I asked him if he wanted some, and he asked what kind it was. I told him crab chowder, and he said, yes. I told him I didn’t have a spoon. He said he’d get one. And said thanks, and called me dear, which I liked. Haha. Old people calling you dear is just cute. Actually, anyone, I guess. I like that term as a term of endearment. So I gave him the soup and I went on my way, pleased with myself. A lot of people bring up the argument that being happy about giving is selfish, but I don’t feel like that’s fair. Just because it makes you happy doesn’t mean that is the motivation, know what I mean? I’m not sure what the motivation is. It’s just something to do.

In any case, I went away pretty quickly, bidding both people goodbye and have a nice night and yadda yadda. As I was walking away, I was wondering to myself…………………………….. and this is the main purpose of this post, really, not to brag about the soup-giving, because that’s pretty unextraordinary…………………………. is it rude to just give and run away? It’s not even running away… it’s just me in awkward “I’ll-leave-you-alone-now” style. Is it better to try and make conversation? Are they lonely? Do they want to be left in peace? What is the correct thing to do in such a situation? Does it even make sense to think about this so much? Should I even worry about my reactions and actions in such a circumstance?

I don’t really have answers to these questions. And I kind of hate that they come up to begin with… but it’s unavoidable. I mean, talk about overthinking things you do. But I can’t help it. That’s all, really. Vomit.

Wait, one more thing. This post reminds me of this book I just finished reading, called Jenny And The Jaws Of Life, by Jincy Willett. I bought this book a long time ago and had forgotten all about it, but I now highly re-recommend it. It’s not a comedy, as the Amazon reviews will correctly tell you. It’s tragicomic. Tragicomic short stories that wallow in the hilarious miseries of human existence. It embraces what I lately find to be the should-be ruling motto of life (in fact, one story deals with that issue directly, head on):
MISERY IS HILARIOUS. FIND AMUSEMENT IN HORRIBLE TRAGEDY. IT’S THE BEST WAY TO SURVIVE.

I mean to lend this book to Sherry on our trip to Turkey. But I don’t think she’ll get it. Nonetheless.

PS – I’m REALLY fat right now. Gross.

—

ADDENDUM: Xinlei read this post and e-mailed me a really funny story about her mom. I just have to share.

so your post totally reminds me of what my mom told me the other day. she saw a homeless guy at the pleasanton bart during the winter, and he looked cold. so she went home and found an old blanket/sleeping bag thing, and decided to go drop it off to him. it was late at night, so bart was closed. anyway, she went to drop it off and the guy was sleeping and hiding under some clothes or something… and as she walked up to him, he looked up at her and she freaked out because she didn’t realize he’d wake up and she THREW the blanket at him and ran away… hahahaha. -____- her heart was in the right place. but pretty funny because she dashed back to the car. then she was like, crap, i dont even know if it was a man or a woman.

denied.

i passed a homeless guy in a wheelchair this morning. he was the second homeless guy in a row after the first dude, who was selling “street roots”, the local homeless newspaper. i went to the bank, and before i came back, i stopped by fred meyer and bought two apples. one for each homeless guy. i offered it to the guy in the wheelchair and he told me he couldn’t eat apples, but thanks; something in them made him feel funny. he said his bag was black cherries, because they help his legs because of their antioxidants. bummer. and then he proceeded to get his wheelchair partially run over by a dude who was parallel parking but actually hopping the curb. in any case, i gave his apple to the “street roots” homeless guy, who was very excited and said he’d already eaten an apple in the morning but would eat another one. yay!

read more in-depth write-up here

“my ego’s like my stomach; it keeps shitting what i feed it.”

I’m listening to… “The Recluse” by Cursive. Song for the motherfucking DAY. The video kinda blows, but see below… I’ve had Cursive’s music for a long ass time and I’ve always liked bits and pieces but today is the first time a song of theirs has really resonated with me musically. ^__~

(This is NOT the official video. Seems that I cannot find a good one, and people have made a lot of their own renditions of the videos… so there ye have it.)

Volunteered at the Greenwood Senior Center this evening with Joe (who I also keep running into at the library). Turns out he’s pretty much exactly my age… one year older… or maybe the same age, actually, since he did Running Start. Speaking Spanish — while I still suck — seems much more natural now than it did before. I hope that classes will help me get back into it (whenever the fuck they start), and that they’ll be somewhat useful, at the very least. Stupid non-English-speaking Spanish adults are just so cute, though. All non-English-speaking older adults, really. They just make me smile, so much! They’re so cute. I like helping people who can’t figure out how to double-click a mouse… it’s just… fun… .. .!

After that, went to buy some meat (and came to the realization that today was only like, the second day I’ve ever bought meat that wasn’t a frozen bag of chicken) and headed over to Hojo‘s, where he was holding a hot pot shindig. I needed to go over to pick up tickets for the Helio Sequence show tomorrow anyhow, and luckily, I knew more people than I thought. But man, people our age sure aren’t very mature. HAHA.

We ended up watching, freaking, some movie with Stephen Seagal called “Executive Decision”, and there’s this Asian guy in that movie who is also on “Law And Order” right now. His name is B.D. Wong. Alina was asked by someone what the B.D. stood for, and she didn’t know, so she concluded it stood for “Big Dick Wong.” So, the rest of the night, people were making up synonyms for “Big Dick Wong,” including but not limited to, “Big Dong Wong,” “Bombastic Dill Wong,” “Balls Deep Wong,” etc. LOL. Sometimes the name was expounded upon by putting it into a phrase, such as, “Big Dong Wong Goes To Hong Kong,” as the name of a film or something. I wish I even remembered a quarter of the ridiculous references, cause there musta been like… at least 50. Towards the end, it became not just penis jokes, but anything related to the letters B.D., such as “Blanket Drape.” Haha. Not all of it was funny but some of it became very hilarious.

I left a bit before everyone else, and on the way back, I stopped by QFC to buy some milk. Stopped for like a half hour to talk to a Real Change vendor named Jonathan, who was very unhappy about the evening. I guess he had been trying to sell Real Change copies outside of the Safeway on 15th and John in Capitol Hill around 7:00pm, and the manager had come out and told him he couldn’t sell stuff there. I reckon that bothered him, cause here he was, still out selling newspapers at 11:00pm and all he wanted to do was sleep. While I was chatting, this friendly biking guy came by and was really stoked to buy this week’s issue of Real Change (which, by the way, my name is now in, sucka!) and it was kinda cute and supportive and nice he was, being really friendly and offering cigarettes and what not. Go him. After he left, Jonathan was talking about stuff like how he had gotten into a fight with his girlfriend after the Safeway manager incident, and then went to the liquor store, which made his girlfriend even more mad… and how he had to go to court next Monday because of drug possession charges. I asked him what kind of drugs, and he said, “The good stuff,” and then asked me why I wanted to know. I said because I wondered what kind of drug possession would get you only one to eight months in jail, which is what he’d quoted (probably not the right word, but whatever!). He asked me some questions about myself, and I said I was unemployed but volunteering for Real Change, yadda yadda, and that I did stuff with computers. He said he had a cousin that did stuff with computers and was a real hot shot that made 6 digits a year, but then he got laid off… and that he hasn’t talked to this cousin for four or five years even though they used to play videogames together.

This guy Jonathan’s whole thing… as he had said it… is that he has made some mistakes in life, and while someone who was, in his words, “normal,” would get a slap on the wrist for drug possession, he’d have to go back to jail and then come back out with nothing and start all over again. He said something along the lines of, “There’s only so many times a person can start all over again,” and it was really quite sad. But he looked off kinda far off in the distance and said that this couldn’t continue on, though, and that he needed to change… and that he was trying to find a job at Goodwill because they help homeless people secure housing and will let people work even if they have some problems. Didn’t quite know what to say to him other than, you can do it… and then things will be better. And hopefully they are… but who knows. He was pretty resigned to the fact that he will probably spend at least a month in jail and then start all over again. It’s tough livings… but he acknowledged that “I made my own bed, and now I have to lie in it,” as far as drug possession charges go.

I know that people who read this will be like, oh yes, another homeless person who is homeless because he’s a druggie and a deadbeat… and while I cannot possibly deny the druggie bit… how many of us do drugs and never get caught? But it’s not even about that… I feel what’s important is how good of a person you are. When he was talking about the Safeway manager not allowing him to sell Real Change outside of Safeway at 7:00pm, he was really bummed about it, and said, “It’s not like I’m asking for that much.” I tried to cheer him up by saying that it was only the opinion of one man, and he said that he didn’t want to get “into it” with the Safeway manager because he didn’t feel like it, and… here’s the part that made me kind of impressed… he didn’t want the folks over at Real Change to get into trouble or have trouble because of him. Maybe there are ulterior motives now that I write it, but it seemed genuine. I guess what I’m saying is… I don’t think we should be so quick to write a person off as worthless just because he or she might have a drug problem or can’t deal with shit or be responsible… what’s important is having one’s morals about. I think, anyhow. I mean… if you can go through the pits of the shit and still maintain the integrity of your character, then you’ve got something good going on.

///
(I haven’t felt compelled to write in a literary fashion for quite some time, but I felt compelled this evening.)

He caught my attention as I was entering the QFC. He called after me, “If you have any spare change when you’re done…” and I nodded — a slow nod implying a promise.

I kept some change out for him.

When I came back out, I handed it to him and proceeded to scope out his possessions on the ground. There wasn’t much — just a plastic bag overflowing slightly with clothing, a plastic see-through cup, and a cardboard sign that said, “OUT OF LUCK / NEED A BUCK,” in thick blue-black marker. Quickly rendered, no doubt, but with an artistic stroke of the hand.

With the change I’d given him still in his hands, he begun to talk very animatedly about his day and how the past four hours had been misery for him. In his excitement, he flung the change into the lawn and the sidewalk as he spoke.

His name was Jonathan, and he had a Michelle Pfeiffer kind of blonde, pale beauty. He could have made a beautiful woman. His loose-fitting maroon sweatshirt made obvious the drooping, aging mounds of his chest, but despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, he was vivacious and full of energy. Years of hardship had managed to weather his body, but not his face. His face remained youthful, and his piercing blue eyes, full of life, were the crux of it all.

For the most part, talking to Jonathan was completely ordinary. It was only when he would speak about himself that he became a little distant — that he would look off in the distance, focusing on nothing in particular, lost in his own convoluted thoughts. All of those thoughts were those of a man who, at that moment, felt completely downtrodden and defeated by life and wanted nothing more than to escape an endless cycle of losing. Whether it be losing to the system, to circumstances beyond his control, or to his own actions, it was all the same. It all ended up in the same place, with him possessing nothing and starting off again at square one.

\\\

His name was Jonathan. He had a Michelle Pfeiffer kind of pale blonde beauty, and he would have made a beautiful woman. Though it was nearly midnight, his blue eyes were piercing with their liveliness. His loose-fitting maroon sweatshirt made obvious the drooping mounds of his chest — a feature which is often found in aging men. But despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, he was vivacious and full of energy. His age was elusive. Years of hardship had managed to weather his body, but not his face. His face remained youthful, and his blue eyes, full of life, were the crux of it all.

my stomach hurts. too much salt and vinegar chips.

My newest love is Salt & Vinegar chips, which is really fucking bizarre because I used to abhor them. I really need to stop eating bags of chips, like seriously, asap. I feel like I’m turning into a giant fatass. :L

Anyway, this morning, I volunteered over at Real Change designing their layouts. As I was leaving, this long-bearded old dude saw me leaving. He was obviously a Real Change vendor, and Real Change is a homeless newspaper, so he was quite obviously homeless.

He said to me, “When did you start being a vendor?”

To which I responded, “I’m not a vendor!”

I don’t know if I said it offensively, but it was my instinctual reaction to deny it, not because it was so embarrassing or offensive anything, but because… well, I’m not a vendor. But I think it came off kind of offensively or something. :L So I offered, “I’m volunteering to lay out the pages.”

To which the man responded, “Right, cause you have a home to go home to.”

To which I could only reply… “Yup…”

In retrospect, had I been as witty as I sometimes like to think of myself as being, I would have said something like, “About ten years, actually.” But I’m never as witty as I think I could’ve been after I’ve thought it through, because I always answer these things without much thinking. I’m just honest. That’s why.

Another possibility is that I felt kinda awkward leaving and passing them in the first place, which is kind of a trained reaction I have with strangers, to not really look them in the face when walking by or whatever. I kinda have to force it. When passing this guy while leaving Real Change, I forced myself to look at him and kind of give him a half smile, which was really awkward and kind of forced, likely, and then when he actually said something to me, I was already in this awkward state of being and could only respond awkwardly.

Oh yes. Thinking about things that don’t matter. Oh yes.

what can i say? i fucking like bums.

on sunday morning, i went to chinatown to post up a sheet of paper for people to draw on (clarification pic coming soon). after stopping in at snowboard connection that morning and talking to kenji, kenji suggested i post one of the sheets in king st. station to see what the bums contribute to it. what a fucking good idea, i thought! and i did. i parked my car and went to cross the street. this guy stood next to me, kinda well-dressed (not like suit, but like, clean) taller black dude… light-skinned. he said, “papa-san told me that if i didn’t take care of you, he’d kick my ass.” i said, “that wouldn’t be good.” so the light changed and i was going to cross the street and there was this drunkard lady approaching and she had beef with him. they exchanged some words. he told me to keep on walking. lol. then i got to the pole, and i started putting my shit up, and he was still exchanging words with the drunkard lady, and when that finished, he’s like, “go ahead, post your shit, i got your back,” and i posted it. when i finished, i thanked him (even though his bodyguarding probably wasn’t necessary, it was nice) and he said anytime i was down there he’d watch out for me. haha. how cute.

that evening, rachel and i tried going to a seattle international film festival screening. fucking sold out. mothabitch. i really wanted to see that movie. after locking my key in my car (alex had to rescue me), we had to kill time by getting some food. went to dick’s initially. outside a guy asked if we had any change. i said, “no, but want food?” and he said yea, and i motioned for him to come inside. i didn’t think he was coming cause he took so long but soon i saw him right next to me. damn, he was tall. dick’s was way too fucking hot, though, and the line was damn long, so we went down the street to kidd valley. he followed. his name was ratt, i think.

i bought him a cheeseburger, yam fries, and a strawberry milkshake at kidd valley, kind of fulfilling my dream of eating a meal with a homeless person. i don’t know why that’s appealing. i suppose i just want to hear their stories. unfortunately, he mumbled a lot and it was kinda hard to understand him. he wasn’t completely sane but he wasn’t even near psycho either. he could hold a conversation but just barely. i asked him how long he’d been on the streets and he said his whole life. he muttered some stuff about how people don’t usually pay attention to bums except for on thanksgiving and christmas. some other talk about how he wanted to leave seattle because it’s not bum-friendly, so i asked him where was better. he didn’t much have an answer that was better… think he said he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

he got a LOT LOT LOT of food stuck in his beard. it grossed rachel out big time. haha!! can’t say i blame her, i mean, it was kinda gross. i don’t really mind that kinda thing, though. but yeah.

later some guy who WAS bat shit crazy and definitely a vietnam war vet came in and was babbling about this and that. ratt said that this guy was also on the street his whole life. i gave him my yam fries because they were much too much for me to handle.

man. i like bums.

no real time to think.

listening to: “cherry” by ratatat, “reh. vuh. lee” by the helio sequence, “come a little closer” by brandy. keke.

i don’t really like cupcakes but cupcake royale cupcakes are yummy.
but they fucked up my order. i asked for four of kate.
they gave me four of mr. formal! BITCHES. he lacks personality.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
to make it worse they give you a DOZEN. not a baker’s dozen. WTF!
at least i made a homeless dude selling real change kinda stoked.
he said he always sees people with cupcake royale cupcakes
and that he feels bad asking for one because they’re expensive.
as i was walking back to my parked car, he said hello to me…
for some reason, i instinctively said, “i don’t have money,” which was a lie.
i didn’t have a dollar (the price of real change) but i did have a twenty.
i offered him a cupcake to make up for lying to him (not like he knew).
he chose to take one of plain ol’ mr. formal, and then said of cupcake royale:
“they’ve come a long way. i’ve enjoyed watching them grow.”

—

in a nutshell, this past week:
- sold $1k of advertisements in the next issue of redefine… by myself. *self-pat-on-back. profitable? no. not yet.
- worked ass off because trendi hath launched our beta!!! final-freaking-ly. sign up if you like clothes. or if you like to be critical of other people’s clothes?
- celebrated gildas’ birthday. went to dinner at a korean restaurant and had much too much food.
- celebrated alex’s birthday. bought him a lavender cupcake from cupcake royale (aka the best cupcakes ever). had a “birthday topper”, which was a plastic ax. (on saturday, i will give gildas a cupcake… his topper will be a pink ballerina. i know, i’m twisted.)
- watched “live free or die hard”… yeah, ridiculous. and kind of awesome.
- finally played a bout of diablo 2. my character was going to expire in 56 days, oh no!!!!
- went to an eisley show with ryan — openers were vedera and the myriad (who we tried to interview a million years ago, but they were poor at following up with us). eisley pretty much sucked the first half. it was disappointing. the second half was better. but sheri is picking up some really terrible singing habits, that’s for sure.
- the projector, aka my former best friend, has been taken away by chris. to where? I DON’T KNOW. maybe it’s back now, actually… i should check.
- went to dean zulich’s art institute of seattle hall of fame induction. i freaking didn’t stick around for the food, though, and instantly regretted it upon leaving. lul.
- got my *first* letter back from a prison inmate!!!!!!!!! christopher davis, of oklahoma. i will scan in soon.

what i think next week will be like:
- trying to harass more people into buying redefine ads.
- working ass off more for trendi’s beta launch.
- celebrating no birthdays.
- lots of movies, courtesy of netflix and screeners from the seattle international film festival.
- “party in the park” at the olympic sculpture park. free ticket. heck yes.
- cirque du soleil CORTEO!!! YEAHHHHHHHHH. it’s been a while. like a year and a half since i’ve seen a cirque. mmmm. and this one was special expensivo tickets.
- camping at the olympic peninsula for memorial day weekend. hiking, biking, kayaking? YEY-YER.
- continuing to wonder what happened to GOOD DAMN R&B, MATE.

long journeys to and from sxsw. my brain hurts.

oh yes i will regale you with tales from sxsw, i will. i actually think i took too few photos. fux0rz! :[ god, this blog post is going to take forever. i am dreading it already. this is why you always have to write shit down the day of. or else massive skimping.

READ OUR OFFICIAL REDEFINE MAGAZINE SXSW COVERAGE

***

thursday, march 13th, 2008

slept over at hojo’s on sunday evening and dennis took us to the airport in the morning. flight arrived in houston in the late afternoon, and then we had to take another flight to austin. got there at 6pm. met some old guy on the plane (houston to austin) who said that he moved to austin for retirement. he had just come back from vacation in veracruz, mexico. he was very sunburnt. haha. so very red!!! he talked a little bit about music when he found out i ran a music mag, like willie nelson and stuff. and said austin was the only place in texas he’d live since it’s liberal.

anyway, we got there and was going to stay at koji’s sister tomoko’s house, but she wasn’t off work until like 8, so we had to shoot the shit until then. took the bus from the airport. it took forever to come and was late. :L at the bus stop was an editor from the seattle times and some random musician guy who gave hojo a CD. the musician self-booked a show that was not sxsw-related. afterwards, went to the convention center to pick up our press passes and get photo credentials. blahblahblah. saw that hanson was playing at sxsw. lul.

got to the streets and i still have my bag and don’t have anywhere to put it. we get some food at a taco stand. i like getting weird stuff at the taco stand, so i got a fried chicken taco… it was fucking delicious. i also got a fried avocado one but that was not so good. but man. fried chicken taco for the fucking winnnnnnnnnnnn. hojo went to check out a show and i was sitting there finishing up my taco and a couple of guys came up and were like, “you were so hungry you didn’t even stop to put away your bag?” and i was like, “yup.”

afterwards, hojo wanted to go to a couple of places but i had my bag so i didn’t want to walk around and shit. we went into a couple of bars but /fail and then i was just like this shit is lame and we went to sit in a coffee shop instead. looked up some shows on the internet. then went to tomoko’s cute little house, pictured below!

dropped off our stuff then went to eat bbq at stubb’s. i did as i always do — that is, got a vegetarian plate at a bbq house. werd. pretty good, though. what it was… on the top… fried okra. on the left… mashed yams (i shoulda gotten mashed potatoes but i like to get shit that is weird, what can i say). on the right… cheesy jalapeno spinaches. quite the spicy. the dinner itself was weird/awkward for me because tomoko and hojo were like catching up and i was just like………. zzz.

ever wonder what a piece of wonderbread looks like when condensed? this is what it looks like. the 1″ x 1″ ish square!!!

afterwards hojo and i wandered around kinda aimlessly. went to a couple of shows, kinda. went to a random show at habana calle 6 (outdoors) and it was mediocre. but then we went inside and saw something great.

ANAVAN

and that something great is los angeles band anavan (shit, that shit rhymes). CLICK HERE TO SEE A VIDEO OF ANAVAN. they’re all very good musicians. when i first entered, the vocalist was wearing a helmet and so was the keyboardist. before i knew it, vocalist boy was in his underwear, dancing around and playing drums with hairy man legs, and hugging a pole while singng, and putting his head on my shoulder rofls. quite the good show. if i had to describe their music, i just say “electro screamo.” not sure how else to say it!!! but it was fucking fantastic. see anavan if you get the chance.

why yes and i almost forgot to mention the crazy rotund asian girl who was trying to get on the singer’s jock DURING the show. he was starting to take off his pants and she kept screaming, “TAKE IT ALL OFF!” “TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT!” etc. he ignored her. then during the set she got all close (everyone else was rather far away since the singer likes to utilize a lot of floor space) and was like trying to get all up in his face while he was performing lol. then of course she was the first one to rush over after the set, calling him by his first name. maybe they knew each other, i don’t know, but it didn’t seem like it. it did definitely seem like she wanted his bawlz, though.

this is the inside of that venue, although it is not anavan in this photo. i don’t know who is playing at this time.

SHOUT OUT OUT OUT OUT

it’s quite confusing how many outs are involved in this band’s name, but they were some kind of house electro band with a live band. not too shabby… but it was weird because at any given time, one of the band members would be doing absolutely nothing at all. (… nothing at all… nothing at all… nothing at all…) lol. the keyboardist (not shown in this picture) was a crazy boy who looked funny and was extremely drunk. at the end of the set, he was playing guitar propped up against the wall, like he was half passed out. then he fell behind the stage, with just his shoes sticking out from behind a projector screen. lul. it was weird and funny. like wizard of oz witch stylee.

DIZZEE RASCAL

we didn’t have much to do after that and hojo wanted to see dizzee rascal so we went. prior to dizzee rascal were like three rappers. shit sucked big time. dizzee rascal was okay but i was bored out of my mind. i don’t like jump-up type hip-hop at all. shit sucks. :[ blech. yeah. my feet hurt and the venue was at the scoot inn, which was in the middle of nowhere. shit sucked. and the walk back was somewhat amusing but much too long.

we did however, run into this homeless guy who wanted some money in exchange for a joke. we were without money, but i told him he could tell us a joke anyway. his joke:

HOMELESS GUY, TELLING US HIS JOKE:
homeless guy: “what does a gay horse eat?”
us: “no idea. what?”
homeless guy: “hay hay hay!”

***

friday, march 14th, 2008

woke up in the morning and hojo needed toiletries because he had not packed a toothbrush or anything. outside, a homeless guy stopped us and he wanted some change for ‘food’. i bought him a drink — i had an apple juice and a vitamin water. i was hoping he’d take the apple juice but he took the vitamin water. oh well, though. both were alright. lol.

half-assededly covered up graffiti near the cvs, at some recycling depot. and omg! haven’t been to a cvs pharmacy in for fucking ever!!!!

afterwards, called up jason of bangarang because we were supposed to meet up and hang out. so i’ve been talking to randy of bangarang for a while now and i guess he gave jason my number since jason was coming to sxsw. anyway, so we met up with him and we got some food… somewhere… i forget where. as we were at the bbq place, some guy was squeezing new potato salad out of a plastic bag and it looked fucking gross. like playdoh. he was going to run and get some more coleslaw and i was like, no thanks, i will get out of here before i see him squeeze that shit out.

DUB TRIO

not bad. their name was unfitting, but yeah. basically they would rotate between like metal riffs and dub at the drop of the time. i don’t quite remember what their music was like, to be honest. sadface.

afterwards we headed over to the pitchfork party at emo’s for a little bit, where i was going to meet up with judy from warmfuzzy. there was telephone confusing and i had a hard time finding her because emo’s is like, four different venues in one haha. we then decided to meet outside. hojo had gone off somewhere else so jason and i met her and her friend. wOo! they wanted to get some food so we followed them to dirty dog. there wasn’t really any food left, so i had a coleslaw sandwich. haha. it was um, not good. :0

LIAM FINN

they were playing at the dirty dog. judy left early and we agreed to meet up later but that never ended up happening. she didn’t have a wristband so things were hard :[ anyway, jason was obsessed with the pedals the liam finn guy had and he says he’s going to build pedals into a block of wood since i gave him the idea?? lol. anyway, they were an interesting band. experimental and extremely random. :0 they were both spazzy as fuck. spazzy is good.

“TALK TO US ABOUT ANYTHING?!”

see post above for details on this……..!! it should be a separate post from the music stuff because i’m anal like that, i guess.

the hot dog king was there, but he was not dressed up. he should have been. /disappoint.

THE LITTLE ONES

went to see some san francisco band — purely by accident — because they were playing a little bit before the helio sequence. shit was lame. there were sound problems and the mic went out for a couple of tracks, but people there — mostly an older crowd — were super into it. i was not so much down with it. :0 blech. couple asian guys in there, though, which was interesting.

HELIO SEQUENCE

as usual helio sequence was great. i had thought they were playing in the room the little ones were playing in but when the little ones ended and no one came on, i figured there was actually a back room where the helio sequence was playing. it was fantastic even though it took them a long time to set up because the mic was all fucked, and one of the guys in the crowd was being super assholish and anal, and telling them to hurry the fuck up and that it didn’t matter. but of course, it always matters. benjamin weikel is like the best drummer ever, for eternity. i tooketh some hilarious video of his great drumming faces and actions. ^__^

BRITISH SEA POWER

when i was done with helio sequence i called hojo and him and jason were at british sea power at the mohawk. i met them there. british sea power, unlike all the other sets before it, had to of course play like a one hour set. i wanted to die. it was THE most boring show i saw at all of sxsw. i wanted to leave but wasn’t sure where else to go. at least i got a free gross-tasting, overly-sweet watermelon popsicle. at least jason picked me up a pin of a girl feeding a popsicle to a husky… not as good as the one he got of a squirrel riding a horse, but it’s okay. i’ll survive. british sea power is the motherfucking suck. i thought this showing would maybe have changed my mind, but no, it didn’t. i do like their crack-headed looking guitarist, though. he totally looks like a druggie biatch.

after british sea power, we had nothing else to do for a couple of hours so hojo wanted to get some hot dog at best wurst, so as we were walking over to the stand, we saw some guy being arrested by the cops. i took a couple pics through the barricade. while at the barricade, some guy started talking to me about taking the photos and getting good shots, and he mentioned he was in some band. i asked what band. turned out it was two guys from tera melos. then i said, “i know you. you guys are friends with facing new york,” and they said, “yeah.” and then i said, “i wrote a review about you guys,” and gave them a card. and they said they new. the lead singer said, “this might be weird, but i think i may have read that review, and you were in our van?” ahahaha. i guess it was amusing because they had been reading that review and had never met me because i had just silently gone into whatever van they were having the listening party in, and were just like, “who the hell is this girl? she was in our van?” guess that question got answered!!

afterwards we went to go get some waters at the convenience store. blahblahblah. then more talking to people!

RETURN OF THE “TALK TO US”

see next post!!!!

SO DOPP

blargh hojo wanted to check out japan nite so we went there before shit even started. cause he was bored because he was not participating in the talk to us. the show was mer, whatevers. i guess it’s cool that asian girls are in bands and the bass licks were neat but other than that, it was pretty much non-exciting. some person kept shining around one of those scary green lasers. the bouncer / worker tried finding that person but /failed.

after that went to eat some mexican food at… jaime’s?? it was not bad i guess. i got a steak fajita taco or something. mmmmmkoi. and then i was going to go see danger radio but i got there too late. boo urns. i didn’t want to stay around for envy on the coast, so then i met back up with hojo who was trying to get into something else. he failed. we went to walk hella far away to see devotchka. waited in line for like an hour and a half to get in because tons of people were there, trying to see vampire weekend. vampire weekend got out and we were still not inside. in line, talked to some drunken fool with a six pack. haha. it was amusing. he shared one with hojo and one with a guy next to us. then some homeless guy came up and was eyeballing the six-pack (he somehow knew even though it was in a paper bag) and the guy was like, “dude, this is a sandwich my mom made me!” and then as the homeless guy was walking away all dejected, the guy was like, “hey man, i’m sorry, i’m just an asshole. here you go,” and he gave him one. lol. interesting. he talked about how he got his wristband online or something and had to get a hotel also, because that was the deal. blahblahblah. god this journal is taking way too fucking long.

DEVOTCHKA

they were alright. not as good as i had hoped but they did have some elaborate instrumentation going on. unfortunately, they had a mini orchestra which could barely be heard. but man, THEY HAVE A TUBA. how fucking awesome.

CONSTANTINES

they would start off every band here with some little poster with a sometimes witty kind of saying. the constantines one sucked (shown) but the devotchka one was good :0

asides from my newfound love for their keyboardist (feet shown here) who is like, amazingly cute mannerism-wise, constantines were fantastic. one of the best shows i saw, for sure. prior to the show, i had sat down on the ground (second row, middle of the crowd), because i was super tired, and before i knew it some other guy had sat down also. then a few other people, and soon there were six people on the ground! WOOT. i tried talking to the guy next to me but he didn’t quite say much lol. i told him, “thanks for joining us,” and he just kind of nodded. and then he tried to get someone else to sit down but failed. interesting. anyway, those attempts to talk to him were nice though because later when some people left in the first row, in front of him, he let me take the spot. so i was right in the first row, next to this hella old grey-haired guy who was uber drunk and rocking out to constantines. good stuff. but i love the keyboardist. and they closed with an ac/dc cover, i guess. anyway, great performance. that’s all there is to it, really. i’m a fan now.

guitarist playing with a broken hand. pretty hardcore shit.

i wasn’t allowed to leave the menu with a cup of water because it was considered an open container. weak!

then we went home. took a petticab part of the way and the guy almost crashed us twice. he was totally like not paying attention and was in a rush. he dropped us off at like, 6th and red river because he was lazy. and that cost $5 each. bleh. he said he didn’t want to take us the whole way because it was his rush hour. yea, yea.

walked home the rest of the way and it was all good. werd. >__>

***

saturday, march 15th, 2008

god this shit is taking way too fucking long. BAH. i’m getting hungry. woke up and it was late because i had a killer nosebleed which went on for like a half hour. bah. bled all over tomoko’s kitchen and paper towel roll.

THE VALLEY ARENA

went over to emo’s lounge to FINALLY see the valley arena. it was a good show, although maybe not as good as i was hoping. it was for alternative press, which is weird to me still. ummmm. afterwards i talked to warren and chris for a little but hojo was fucking hovering, wanting me to get him into fader fort. which is lame. because i would have really liked to talk to them longer since i probably won’t even see them again, at least for a long time. weak fucking sauce. my fault, though, i should have just asked them what they were doing later and tried to meet up with them again. bah.

went over to the “south by seattle” or… the northwest showcase to get some free food. there was some pretty bomb zucchini mixed with red pepper and some little things with creme cheese and salmon on a piece of pastry. and some meat thing that looked gross, so i didn’t eat it. i would have eaten a plate of that squash and zucchini, though. lol.

THE COPS

the cops, or at least i think it was the cops — that or throw me the statue — were playing at the northwest showcase when we got there. surprisingly good. as far as the crowd goes, maybe hot people like seattle music, because there were a lot of good-looking fools there.

after that we went to fader fort. lame. it was far and pointless, at least for me. especially since hojo’s name WAS on the list too, so i basically left the valley arena for no reason whatsoever. i was kinda pissed the whole time. after that i had to go back to the place i just was watching the valley arena at to see anthony green, so it was REALLY pointless.

DOES IT OFFEND YOU YEAH?

british, or something, electro rock band. pretty good. this seems to be the direction music is headed though. i wonder how oversaturated it’ll get. then everyone will want to eventually return to rock roots. it’s going to be a mess.

ANTHONY GREEN

anthony green is a naughty boy, and while circa survive is great, his solo stuff is just mediocre. that being said, anthony green can do whatever the fuck he wants. he has that kind of cult fan following who will follow his every move without quite thinking twice. what he did end up doing was inviting the whole crowd (or whoever would fit) onstage with him during his last song, and i did manage to get this one good shot. again, though, the music was mediocre.

i was trying to meet francesca from equal vision but she never showed up so i sat around for a while with all the little kids.

ALL TIME LOW

all time low is kind of crude, but i guess people like that. i could care less for their music but i guess they kind of give off a good pseudo-punk vibe or something. i find it to be rather juvenile but i can see how kids would like it. they fucked up on a song, called themselves amateurs, and then they said:

“on the count of three, give us the middle finger and say, fuck you!”

met with jeanette’s friend janet briefly. we went to eat but she was in a rush to leave practically the entire time, so it was completely and utterly pointless. yeah. well i guess it was slightly point-ful because she told me that crystal castles had not cancelled their show, so i managed to see them still. that was good, i guess!!!!!!!!!

after that i walked back towards emo’s to meet up with francesca. finally did. had a brief chat and it was good. turned out greg sieme was with her, and i would have liked to meet him, but it didn’t end up working out :[ walked in the wrong direction to see ole time relijun and that sucked. walked really far. then i went back the other direction and actually it was near the fucking scoot inn. motherfucking boohoo. so far. so so far. i was walking on the way there and some fool stopped by me and he had the most giant hickey on his neck, lul!

OLE TIME RELIJUN

well, the stage they were at made it absolutely impossible to see shit. i literally just saw the top of the standup bass and the top of the singers head occasionally, and nothing more. they would have been very good, though, i think. had i been able to see them. their lead singer also spoke french, spanish, and japanese. lol. amusing. they pulled in such an interesting crowd.

HEALTH

so i’ve heard health and i like their music but i never really expected it to be mind-blowing or anything. well, it was fucking fantastic. from the intro to the end. i can legitimately say i’m a health fan now. it’s funny because while in line for the constantines, people were saying that their music was absolute noise that could not be considered music. and health isn’t even ALL THAT noisy. so it’s hilarious. they were older, though. like 40s. CLICK HERE TO WATCH A VIDEO OF THEIR INTRODUCTION.

this day was a good day. lots of shit going on. but all hectic and stuff T__T i wanted to see why? and some other bands but mer.

WIZARDS

i wasn’t paying attention while they were playing, because i was talking to some older graphic designer guy. music sounded okay, not exactly my chip bag. they blew out the power twice, though. hehe.

the venue health, wizards, and ole time relijun played at, which is usually a mexican bar, i guess.

KBN

walked back to japan night and saw some taiwanese electronic band called kbn. it was decent. they invited some buddies up and they were just okay too. yeahhhhhhhhh.

LOOK. SEE. PROOF.

this band was extremely good-looking and had nice accents, because hell, they’re from the uk as we were waiting for them to come on, started talking to some producer from the uk, who introduced us to the band’s managers. this uk guy is now working on producing an album by the harajuku girls — yes, gwen stefani’s back up dancers. i guess he has worked with a lot of big names. look.see.proof. were just okay. pop-punk mixed with like, arctic monkeys type thing almost. it was okay! only a 20 minute set, though.

CRYSTAL CASTLES

crystal castles’ vocalist has recently broken a couple ribs and yet she was jumping around. she was hot. the vibe was amazing. everyone was so into their music. i started off in the second row and somehow ended up in the fifth. met some couple random people who were into health and crystal castles and loved the sets of both. lots of jokes about shortness. met some guy who was also going to finish off his night with mstrkrft. his name was richard. anyway, crystal castles set was decent but i couldn’t see shit, so it was decidedly less exciting. hojo was bored by it and hated the people in the crowd. i didn’t see any real problems.

CONVERSATION ABOUT THE LEAD SINGER OF CRYSTAL CASTLES:
guy 1: “she’s so hot.”
guy 2: “are you guys talking about the lead singer?”
guy 1 and friends: “yeah.”
guy 2: what, so do you like mixed tapes and nintendos and 80s music?”
guy 1: “no… it’s not like that. i just want to marry her.”

afterwards, i wanted to see mstrkrft. hojo followed me under the presumption that i wouldn’t get in. i did get in, so he left and did whatever.

ZTRIP

ztrip was extremely random and played all sorts of mashup music. played the pink floyd remix i like. blahblah. during z-trip this guy (pictured) was crowdsurfing for like… i want to say 5 minutes… or at least the duration of a song. people kept pushing him up to the front but the security kept pushing him back into the crowd. he had his middle fingers raised up for a while because well, he was up for so long.

KILLA KELLAH

however the fuck you spell his name. beatboxer who used up time between mstrkrft and ztrip’s set. it was mediocre.

MSTRKRFT

the mstrkrft show was probably the craziest show i’ve actually been to in a loOooOoOong time. which is strange because, well, it’s a house music party. but people were acting like it was a rock show or something. soooooo many crowdsurfers. i want to say at least… 15? and they just kept coming and coming. i got kicked in the head once with a chick wearing giant platform boots, and one guy started falling on me, so that basically my back was supporting his fall. luckily he got caught before he fell the entire way… three people (at least) fell on the ground but most got up right away. one girl who crowdsurfed wearing a mid-length white skirt. one guy who was with mstrkrft. one guy who had a nice camera in his hands and was just taking photos as he was being pushed around (this happened twice). people were like really a lot nicer and more careful with the guy with the camera… everyone else just kinda got tossed around but it was almost as if people respected that he had a camera and wanted to preserve it. cause that’d be a real bummer. lul.

shit kept falling down from the ceiling… not sure if people were throwing it or if it was literally falling from the ceiling. there were rocks and things. i had my arms crossed at one point and giant shit fell down and i guess i caught it. so i mentioned that to the guy next to me — who i later found out was named EJ and worked for limewire — and haha he showed me his arm when the strobes were on and because his arm was sweaty, it was covered with small black rocks. ahhahahaha. it was hilarious. X:

one other girl got wind that there was stuff falling from the ceiling and started being super paranoid about it, pulling at her hair like every few seconds or so.

one other guy said he had saw people throwing ice cubes as well. (there was a balcony up top.)

pretty much an awesome vibe from the entire show… i mean, it was crazy but still good. later on my newfound friend from the crystal castles show found me. he’s going to send along some crystal castles pics cause i was too short to get any good ones. owned.

***

sunday, march 16th, 2008



morning trip with tomoko and her boyfriend to taco fast food stand. woooot. it was yummy. horchata popsicle for the fucking win. best popsicle i’ve had in like my life. best meal during this entire trip too, because this trip fucking sucked as far as food goes. this place was called “el chilito” or something like that. tomoko’s boyfriend was pretty cool. she seems cool too but she like didn’t talk to me as much.

then they dropped us off downtown so we could catch a bus.

but before that, this is like the most amazing thing. on sundays, some church holds a homeless church service for all of the homeless people, with food. this is what i’m doing next time i go to austin. that’s sooo fucking amazing and interesting!!! i thought it was a fucking swap meet. lol.

anyway, while at the bus stop, talked to a guy from the seattle times who is a rock critic. he pointed out a house that used to belong to the founder of rolling stone. interesting. he had crazy curly gray hair that was wild! luckily for us, the bus was on time so we made it to the airport in time. flew out of austin to san jose for a layover.

so let’s just say that the san jose airport sucks balls. to get from terminal to terminal you take a fucking bus. not only a fucking bus, but a fucking poorly marked bus that says that it’s going to long-term parking but really can go to the terminal. needless to say, there were a lot of confused people. we only got wind that the long-term parking bus could bring us to the terminal when i eavesdropped on some guy — also coming from sxsw — asking the bus driver if the long-term parking bus went to the terminal. werd.

even their food court is ghetto.

and apparently now there’s some card you can get?? that let’s you get “in and out of security in four minutes??”

LADY AT AIRPORT, ON A STOPOVER IN SEATTLE BEFORE GOING TO IDAHO:
“i’m glad we’re going to seattle. who wants to stay in san jose?”

indeed.

getting on the san jose airport flights = outside walking. which is kind of nice and cool, but still somewhat ghetto.

fuck i’m glad this blog post is over. +__+