Don't be scared.

The Get Up Kids are an American indie rock band from Kansas City, Missouri. Formed in 1995, the band was a major player in the mid-90's indie rock scene. As they gained prominence, they began touring with bands such as Green Day and Weezer before becoming headliners themselves, eventually embarking on international tours of Japan and Europe. They released most of their albums on Heroes & Villains, their own imprint under Vagrant Records that also put out records from bands like The Anniversary, The New Amsterdams and Reggie and the Full Effect. Like many early emo bands, The Get Up Kids came to dissociate themselves with that label, as it came to be seen as insult to be known as an "emo band." The Get Up Kids were viewed throughout their existence as a prototypical "emo" band, having been major players in what is commonly considered the "second wave" of emo music.


The summer I turned 16 is still one of the most influential of my life. 2 days after I finished school, I boarded a plane and flew to England. I spent the next two weeks on the British Isle. I actually celebrated my 16th birthday in Scotland at Lock Ness Lake. 2 days after I came home, my boyfriend of nine months, my first serious relationship, dumped me.

I spent most of the summer wallowing in the divine misery of my first love lost. Most days, I woke up and went straight to Stancie's, where both of us tried to make sense of it. At the time, I could imagine life getting ANY worse than the way I felt. This was it, rock bottom. And in a way, it really was. Sure, I'd find other dudes to ruin me, but they all feel different than the way that summer felt. I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how hard I tried. Probably because when you're 16, there's even barely a tunnel. If that makes any sense.


Now, I don't blame the boy, one known as Jesse, for what happened. God no. I can figure it out now, how much of that crap was self-inflicted, just how personally I took everything (but again, this is what you do when you're 16). In fact, I almost thank him for it. God, how badly I needed to go through that, to know what that felt like, to torture myself so much. It really was such a quintessential experience, I wouldn't give a minute of it back. I learned so much as a direct result of Jesse.

He probably has no idea of that, I barely talk to him any more. Every now and then, I'll sent out an email and get a response. We shared the most awkward phone call of my life about a year ago. But other than that, we're pretty much strangers now. He lives in Washington state now. You can listen to his music here.

But the point of this story is that Jesse introduced me to a lot of music. I was on the verge of punk rock, but Jesse threw me into it. He also got me into ska. And on one of the few days I saw him during that summer, I told him I wanted some new music, I missed getting CD's from him. I remember him being sort of annoyed about it, probably because I rarely gave back the CD's he lent me, but he went to his car and gave me a copy of The Get Up Kids' Four Minute Mile. He told me something along the lines of, "I think you'll like this. You'll probably identify with it."


I don't think he meant it in a good way. Even by that point, in the year 2000, there was a well-established back lash against emo. But all it took was one listen and I was completely hooked. I don't think that CD left my mom's car stereo for a solid month.I was a little embarrassed about it. I didn't exactly know what emo was, but I knew I wasn't supposed to like it. But, I did. I really did.

I'll come back to that record now, when I'm feeling a bit lost, and it still resonates with me. 9 years later and on the brink of a huge change, I find reasons to sing along as loud as I can.

I hope I find my home
And I hope you’re the first one in it.
I know it won’t be the same.
I’ll be there if you need anything at all you want to be.
Run around the world with me.
State your distance but it’s not a million miles away.
If this is what will really make you happy…
Then I’ll say that we’ll be...

Old enough to know better, young enough to pretend.

P.S. In 2005, The Get Up Kids announced that after ten years they were calling it quits. The group disbanded after their sold-out farewell show at the Uptown Theater in home town Kansas City, Missouri. However, in November of 2008, the band officially confirmed the re-release of Something to Write Home About (also a damn fine album) and a 2009 national tour to celebrate the 10 year anniversary and re-release of the record. (!!!)

All about us.

Nacroleptic Dogz







Bring the lolz

When I found out.

Of all the people in the world they could have picked to make a live action film based on Where the WIld Things Are, I think they totally picked the right one.

She's gone to the movies.

Can someone PLZ explain BrokeNCYDE!!! to me? They're from Albuquerque? I have no idea who these people are... I mean, I'm no scene expert (swoopz hair and pullz up leggingz), but I think I know a bit about local music, as I work at a venue. And it's like these dudes came out of nowhere. Normally, you see the same dudes in bands over and over, but none of those dudes look familiar at all.

Not only that, but I feel like I deserve an actual explanation as to why they exist. Or perhaps an apology.

Marky said they called up the El Rey a year or two ago and wanted (demanded) to play. When Marky tried to explain that local shows are in the (late) G-Dub, they said they would sell out the El Rey in a matter of minutes. Marky proceeded to put them on hold, listen to their myspace and almost choke from laughter. Needless to say, they did not receive a booking.

My all-time favorite punk rocker blog belongs to Brendan Kelly, of The Lawrence Arms. His blog, Bad Sandwich Chronicles includes many fascinating stories about strip clubs and tips on getting b-jobs. He recently blogged about BrokeNCYDE (here & here) and it is literally the first time I've ever clapped while reading a blog.

But RLY. Who are YOU, BrokeNCYDE?!?!


NPH, you remain ABQ's proudest son.

But it rang and rang.

BOOM. Work's over. I celebrated by drinking beer with Marky and eating Taco Bell. Last night, I slept for 11 hours. So glorious I can barely talk about it. All in all, it was a great little job. I learned a whole lot and I hope they'll want me next year, if I can come back.

Fear over unemployment hasn't set in yet. Only relief over not working 18 hours a day. The few days I've had between marching up to the Governor's office to turn down the job and now has only sealed the deal that I made the right call. I can't believe I was freaking out so much over it. (Now, ask me about that when I'm broke in OKC.)

I'm starting to take stock of my posessions; what I want to take, what I need to take, what I should get rid of. I honestly don't have that much. A speedy move out of the Princeton house took care of that.

You know, I've got some dreams up my sleeve. I might never get there, but I can't help but feel like I'm heading in the right direction to turn them into reality.

My step brother signed up to be one of the few, the proud, the Marines. It's personally a little scary for me, but he came to the decision on his own. Can't be anything but confident in him about it.

The East Mountain Triple Homicide hits a little close to home for me and Kyle, as one of the victims was my cousin-in-law (not at the time...) and it happened at Kyle's old bus stop. I think the trial's left both of us feeling a little left of center. Especially the fact that Brandon Craig's going to get away with it. Looks like money can buy justice.

Riding fast and living slow.

Dear friend and major Republican Tom Schelby is now officially in Kuwait and I will miss him terribly, as Tom has become quite the pal over the last year. I'm also intensely jealous of his big time adventure. Last week, he "learned how to evade capture if caught behind enemy lines".

I think one of the reasons me and Tom buddied up so much is because we're sort of in the same place right now. While Tom is far more professional than I, I think we both struggle with the responsibilities of adulthood. But more than that, we're fantastic at fooling people about it. There's this line from Elizabethtown, where Claire Colburn tells Drew Baylor: "Do you ever feel like you're just fooling everybody?" Drew Baylor replies: "You have no idea."

I feel like that about all the time. Like, everything I am when I'm at work is nothing but a giant act. There's a part of me that still feels like I'm completely not cut out for this, that there's something else I need to be doing. I'm sure a huge chunk of that is just my complete reluctance to admit I'm an adult now, and there are certain things I just can't get away with anymore. The thing that scares me the most is that maybe I really am a grown up, I am a professional, and the only person I'm fooling is myself.

Tom threw complete caution to the wind, took a job with the American Red Cross, and moved to Kuwait. I feel like that same sort of decision is staring me in the face and I can't commit to a side. Responsibility or adventure? Safe or scary?

I found such relief in punk rock in high school. In that culture, really. At its heart, that's completely what punk rock has always been about; throwing caution to the wind and doing what really makes you happy. I've never really lost that part of myself, regardless of how different I am from the 16 year old I once was, with her green hair and yellow pants.

Point is, I got offered a big deal professional job in Santa Fe. A job at the Governor's office, with fancy benefits and a decent enough salary. Even though I've been planning on moving to Oklahoma, where I have no job, but a great room and a great roommate. I even set a deadline, May 1.

I had no idea what to do. In fact, I've spent the last week of my life in a completely melodramatic wasteland. This is in part, due to the amount of sleep I haven't been getting and 80+ hours I've worked already this week. But for every reason I found to take the job, I found one just as compelling not to. And the same goes for Oklahoma.

The thing about staying here and taking the job in Santa Fe is that it would be so easy. There would barely even be a transition. I'd even be working in the same building. Honestly, the thought of going to Oklahoma, even after all this time, scares me. And why shouldn't I be scared? Moving, changing jobs, leaving home, all that is scary, scary stuff.

When I talked to Tom about it, he told me I should turn down the job. He said, and this is probably the grandest quote I've received from all of the advice I've gotten in the last week, "I'm 25 years old and I still want to be a spy."

Kenneth told me to flip a coin. I did, and it told me to go to Oklahoma. That scared me just as much, leaving something that serious up to chance. I needed to be strong enough to make that decision on my own, without a coin. Because of all the factors influencing it, I'm the biggest. I feel like this choice says a lot about the risks I'm willing to take. Do I play it safe in this horrible job market or do I take a chance and make a move I've been talking about for years?


May 1, 2009

(Probably...)

Tom Schelby's proud of me today.

Work jerk.

Even though...

I'm still at work and probably will be well into the morning hours;
I've got 24 hours to make one of those annoyingly large life-altering decisions;
I'm running on almost no sleep and this pattern is bound to continue;
I've eaten nothing but Wheat Thins all day;

I am still smiling like a goofy idiot.

Why?

Because New Mexico abolished the death penalty and one of the best girls I know is sporting a classy diamond on the most important of fingers.

Life's about balance.

For example, competition.

Momma is wicked precious. I called her this morning and told her that Larry is probably the nicest man on the planet, seeing as he cut me a key to his apartment in Santa Fe, so I can stay there whenever I need to. Even when he won't be there, like this weekend. My mom's response: "What will you eat?!?" My response: "There are lots of restaurants in Santa Fe, Mom." Her response: "But it's a boys apartment, there won't be anything in the fridge." My response: "Mom, there's nothing in my fridge at home, either." I really don't have the heart to tell her how rarely I eat out of my fridge.

On that note, I called in a to-go order of a club with soup from the all-time home of comfort food known as Christie Mae's last night. When I got home, I discovered they'd given me the wrong order. Disappointment subsided when the order I got was the Acapulco Chicken, a far superior dish. I really only missed the cornbread.

When I did my time sheet this morning, I was shocked to discover I've only worked 65 hours this week. ONLY, by the way. It's felt like a lot more. I think that has something to do with the commute... Some days we work 16+ hours. Thankfully, working for Kathy Zimmer has prepared me well. The last year or so of college, it was habit to work in the office all day, get food, and come back to bartend. Those days weren't that bad, it was the day after that was horrible. The problem is, now, I don't get the day after off.

Only 8 more days of this job left. That's 8 straight days. I'm working straight through the weekend. Honestly, I'm not even scared of being unemployed. I'm just so excited for it to be over.

Flipping a coin.

May 1, 2009

(Probably...)

The term of state contract.

On Saturday, I started bragging about being around all these sick people and not getting sick. Half an hour later, my throat started hurting. It's been down hill ever since.

Moral of the story: Working a lot when you're a lot of sick is a lot of suck.

I've found something I like about Santa Fe. It took me a while. But, it has that small town-after rain smell. I missed that.

One more time, I say.

Every year, the New Mexico House of Representatives plays the New Mexico Senate in a "friendly" game of basketball. This year, the House maintained their 9 year winning streak, beating the Senate, 61 to 51. The whole thing benefits the UNM Cancer Center and this years game was dedicated to Patty Jennings, wife of Senate Pro Tem Tim Jennings, who lost her battle with breast cancer on Valentines Day this year. The game raised an all time high $10,000.

It was surprisingly aggressive. I thought it would be competitive, but I had no idea it would get as rough as it did. But believe me, there's still a lot of comedy in politicians playing organized sports.

By the way, congratulations, Raton. You elected a damn fine basketball player to serve as your state representative.

Meep, meep.

Running Rails.

Normally the train is on time, if not a few minutes early. Overall, I consider myself impressed with New Mexico's first attempt at a commuter rail, something that has been needed between Albuquerque and Santa for a long, long time. I've gotten used to the train by now. I almost look forward to riding the train in the morning. It gives me an hour to relax before work, read and drink some Starbucks. It makes me feel close to my grandfather, my dad's dad. He loved trains. I'm sure he would have loved the Railrunner.

But, sometimes, the train completely blows it. Today, a water pump gave out on the engine, so we had to wait for another train to come and pull us into Santa Fe. I was an hour and a half late for work.

Gross.

Caught by the River.

iPod tendencies for the week include Doves, Doves, Doves, Doves, DOVES, Doves and more Doves. Also, brushing up on my mid-90's Springsteen in preparation for April 10th in Denver. Because, clearly, the most responsible thing to do when you're jobless and preparing for a move is spend $150 to get close enough for Springsteen to sweat on me. DEAR JESUS, if that's not responsibility, then I don't know what is.

Speaking of New Jersey...


Welcome to Newark. Where taggers are kind enough to censor their art. Clearly, they care about their community.

And welcome to a New Jersey post.


Circles and squares. We flew out Saturday with surprisingly few mishaps. Probably the best part of having a disabled mother, and she'll attest to this too, is the early boarding. One of the most interesting parts are the wheel chair drivers the airport provides. Some of them are super slow and very talkative. Others are speed racers and barely say a word. In Albuquerque, the wheel chair lady had Downs Syndrome, practically ran my mother through the airport and had no problem jamming her through lines and crowds of people. I was barely able to keep up. It was seriously a walk of shame, trailing behind them. I felt like apologizing to everyone that got plowed over. However, I think at that point, me and Mom needed some serious comedy. Dear God, please bless the mentally impaired. Thank you.


We flew over a wind farm. I am assuming this is San Jon, but I'm not sure.


At 27,000 feet.



DFW is nothing short of lovely.


And they have an iPod vending machine. Recession, by the way.


We got into Newark close to 11:30 on Saturday night. We ate some pizza and slept the best we could. It was nice to have a day before the services to sort of mellow, start the gradual process of going through things. family came over, some of which I hadn't seen in years and years.


These are my cousins Mike and Gina. They're siblings. And Mike just had a baby with his wife Kristen. And this is right before Gina's precious yorkie bit baby Landon.

I can't even begin to express my gratitude to that baby. 90% of the time, I still feel perpetually awkward around children. It's not that I don't like them, I'm terrified of breaking them. But it was just so amazing to have that much life around. And comedy. Landon liked to vomit a lot, but he was so silent about it. He would just open his mouth, no noise, no warning, and this flood would spout out. Didn't ever phase him.

It also helped that Landon has the exact same head as my grandpa. Exact same!


Gina doesn't have children. Gina has Niko. She needs nothing else.


Later that night, Gina took me to the diner closest to G-Pa's house for disco fries and coffee. This is, in fact, the quintessential Jersey experience. Considering I love diners so much, maybe I should move there and not Oklahoma. But, the owner of the diner asked Gina how my grandfather was doing. While it's never the best news to report, it was sweet of him to ask.

I didn't take any pictures at the services. It didn't feel right. But it all took place on Monday. First, we went to the funeral home, which was the hardest part for me. Grandpa was cremated and I'm fine with that. But, seeing the flowers that people sent really got to me. Especially the bouquet from the Eldorado, the building he worked for. After that was mass. My mom made awesome jokes there about how all the statues looked like they were levitating. Then, we went to the cemetery/mausoleum. Grandpa went in the same spot as his wife. The cemetery was very nice; great view of the city. There were really tall grave markers and huge, massive tombs for people. Gina kept talking about getting one for her and Niko and having it say "Gina", nothing else. After that was certainly my favorite part, and Grandpa's favorite part, the eating at the local VFW.

Lots of family came. 3 out of 4 of Grandpa's daughters were there; Madeline, my mom and Colette. Colette's kids were there; the previously mentioned Gina and Mike, with Mike's husband Kristen and baby Landon. Also present were cousins Jackie and Suzanne, and Jackie's husband Mike. And family from Canada! My mom's cousin Rene and his daughter Lucie came, the ones I stayed with in Quebec, and another of my mother's cousins Aline. If I ever do make babies, I will have the easiest time naming them since I have all these beautiful French names in my family.


Me and cousin Rene gettin down.


My mom found these ducks on Grandpa's garage. She took one and gave Rene the other.


Very Flattering Me and Lucie.


Probably my favorite image from the entire affair. Stuff like this is what made it bearable.


This one is a close second. There's actually an entire series of images of my cousin Gina embarrassing my mom.

I spent most of Tuesday in the City. It's a fantastic place to lose yourself. And that was exactly what I needed to do after the emotional battering ram of Monday.


Ducks as big as big as sky scrapers. Just keeping things is perspective.

My first stop was the B&H Photo Superstore. And let me tell you photo nerds, that place is shier madness. So many people! Also, a good 90% of the employees were wearing yamakas. After that, I rode the Subway to Central Park West and 88th; the Eldorado rests at CPW and 90th. Since it was so close, I ducked into Central Park and walked around the Jacqueline Onassis Reservoir, where the above photo is taken. This is at the far north of the lake, looking south.


And this is looking west. The building in the middle is the Eldorado.


Little metal "M"s mean the Met. Which was next stop. I actually didn't do much looking. I sat amongst the Roman busts and the Egyptian tombs for a while, listening to the crowds and watching school groups wind through the sprawl of that place.

After that, I hiked over to the CBS store in Times Square to get a Late Show shirt and got back on the bus for NJ for a dinner date.


Last time I was in New Jersey, I spent some time with my mom's friend Linda. Her and Linda met when my mom was barely 20, they lived in the same building. They've stayed in touch over the years and needless to say, they are absolutely adorable when they're together.


We left Wednesday. It was a sad goodbye to the red brick house on Sabina Street and to New Jersey as well. I don't think Mom knows when she'll be back. But, by that point, I was more than happy to get home and get back to normal.


Flying over the Appalachians. In the East, mountains are actually hills. But they are pretty.

On getting things back to normal... I can't tell you how happy I am to be home and out of February. I am happy I went to New Jersey. It wasn't an easy thing, as this was only the 5th funeral I've ever been to. Grandpa is the first person I've lost in my family that I was close with. I think there's still a long way for me to go with it, but I know that it would have him very, very happy to have all of us together.


This was the sunset in Santa Fe the night he passed away. There was something awesome in walking outside of work to that. It always seems to work out that way; the weather seems to understand when big, huge moments are taking place in your life and it tries to help you remember them.

Anyway, glad to be home and back to doing my thing. Work is madness, I'll probably be here till midnight tonight.