Got pictures of what's in my head.

Dear Burlesque Noir,

Read this book.

It's about the Everleigh Club, the high class brothel in Chicago in the 1900's. The owners, Ada and Minna Everleigh, were sisters whose shifting identities had them as traveling actors, Edgar Allan Poe's relatives, Kentucky debutantes fleeing violent husbands and daughters of a once-wealthy Virginia lawyer crushed by the Civil War. While lesser whorehouses specialized in deflowering virgins, beatings and bondage, the Everleighs spoiled their whores with couture gowns, gourmet meals and extraordinary salaries.

It's a fantastic read. Really lush detail. But really, the best part is that the professor of the string orchestra that played frequently at the club was a black man named Vanderpool Vanderpool. In the words of my father, "Someone jumped the fence."

I'm spent.

Working at a live music venue in Albuquerque means you have to deal with a pretty decent number of serious potheads. You have no idea how hard it is to get ticket sales counts from the Zone. Not to mention, a promoter managed to drop tickets off at a place called "Mike's Zone", instead of the actual Zone on Eubank. So, sweet, there's about $200 floating around in a discrete Heights head shop. Frustration abounds!

But enough of that. I have a new home! If this weather holds, I hope to have my fantastic mattress sitting pretty in a two bedroom townhouse this weekend. Maria lives down the hall from me. I'm so fantastically excited about having a short commute, as well as green chile stew. It's making me nostalgic for those old school dorm days, when French was hard and relationships were even harder. Geez, if I only knew.

Speaking of, love day was lovely. I worked 8 hours, watched Training Day, then went to 66 Diner and Le Chat Lunatique's CD release with my boyfriend. I hope you all got loves. I meant to send out Valentines, but settling in became priority. Just know I love every person reading this blog. Probably.

And go see the NM Burlesque Showcase this weekend. Good luck ladies, I'll be trying to sneak in on Saturday night. :)

Dolphin calling.

First off, I LOVE VICTORIA BECKHAM.



She's probably the most fabulous person in the world, married to the prettiest man in the world, and manages to not really really take herself seriously at all. After watching the Coming to America special, yes, I would love to be her personal assistant. And her best friend, really.



MAJOR!

In other news, I decided that the reason I wrecked my truck was so I could go to Jimmy Eat World. That experience was, by far, one of the best concerts of my life, something I did not see coming.

I’ve seen Jimmy Eat World a few times, and I’ve never really been too impressed. However, both times were in arena settings and perhaps they’re better enjoyed in a more intimate environment. And for the first time EVER, I was okay with how it sounded in the Sunshine. That’s a hard room to sound and I understand that, but geez, it normally blows. I guess JEW’s sound crew spent a while sound checking.

When they first came out, one of the things Jim Adkins said was that they’d been a “rock band” on tour for some time now and they wanted to do something different. So, they placed such precious jewels like “A Sunday”, an acoustic version of “Claire” that had me near tears, “My Sundown”, my personal favorite “Disintegration” and they closed with “Hear You Me”. Honestly, a lot of people were pissed about it, because they played nothing really fast or poppy. People were literally yelling at them. But, they didn’t care. And good for them! I think it was the kind of experience you really had to work to appreciate, if you’ve only followed the band via the radio, as pretentious as that makes me sound.

During “23”, all these people started clearing room for this couple to slow dance. It was kinda ridiculous and it really kinda made me upset. It was hot enough on the floor and no one needed to be anymore cramped. In fact, I remember making the comment “This is not freaking prom” to one of the people holding the barrier (which I feel really bad about now…). Then, the guy dancing gets down on one knee and asks the girl to marry him. I kinda hated it, but moreso just because of how precious it was.

I left the concert with a singing heart. LaLaLa!

And I could not have asked for a better concert buddy than Casey. We had ourselves a grand ol’ time, despite “that guy”, the one drunk asshole at the show that Casey almost punched in the face. He deserved it.

I guess the real important news is that I have a functioning car again! ZOMG! The bodywork’s not perfect and it kinda looks like my truck’s a little retawded, but more importantly, it runs and it runs well. However, I am stuck here for a little while longer working back the money I spent on a new radiator. PLEASE. Someone employ me.

I spent most of my weekend preparing for the big ol Burlesque show that’s happening on July 28th and visiting my mom, since she hasn’t gotten to see me in a while.

Female in LTR in search of California travel partner.

I'm currently sitting outside the UNM Sub, on this delightful Friday night, appreciating that my UNM account still lets me have internet time. I don't know if this makes me supremely dorky of supremely awesome.

But first off, have some slices of New Mexico life.


I gave my boyfriend a hat during the mass exodus from the Princeton house, it was one of those hidden items from high school I had completely forgotten about. I think it was one of my dad’s old Rotary hats, or I bought it from a gas station for a quarter. Either way, I hated it the first time Kyle put it on, I thought it made his already giant head (not to be compared to Kenneth’s cereal bowl of a cranium) look even bigger. After a few days, he said, “I think it makes me look I’m in the Lawrence Arms.” Ever since he said that, I kinda love it. (Between the hat and the hair, I’d say it’s an accurate description).


Please forgive the caliber of the image (and the awesome pun), but I stayed the night at Ashley’s and in celebration, she broke out the tent for some indoor camping. We migrated out of the tent to play The Sims 2, where I created me and Kenneth to live in a house together. MySim fell in love with KennethSim (OF COURSE! We, and our signicant others, are the only people that doesn’t make sense to), but we had a huge falling out when MySim tried to bang KennethSim and he wanted nothing to do with it. IN FACT, KennethSim flirted with a pregnant AshleySim (you whore) right in front of me! It was grand.


There’s neon green ice cream at Coldstone now. Apparently, it’s “Green Apple Gummi Bear” or something like that. Angie was the only one bold enough to order it (she did eat a pickle stewed in Kool Aid, after all).

Hey, you know what I love? My bar.




I went to BN rehearsal on Saturday, where I got to see Danielle’s adorable new solo and the tape of Angela’s latest and greatest. During the downtime, me and Kate, for some reason, decided it would be omg so awesome to draw on Cari’s dog. Really, I just held down Buzz, Kate is responsible for artwork.




One of the perks of hanging out in Edgehillbillywood is hanging out with my cat, my precious, precious kitty. Meet Mohammed the Profit. The best story about Mohammed is when my dad bought him, almost 11 years ago, he thought, little cat, little tail, yeah that’s right. Not quite. Mohammed has a little nub for a tail, almost like it was ducted. He wags it when he’s happy.


I officially bought my truck from my mom. For a dollar, which I signed and dated. We went to Moriaty to get the title signed over, which was the biggest waste of my damn time. When we finally get to the window (keep in mind it’s 100+ degrees outside), she asks to see the title and my license.

“It says you live in Albuquerque, ma’am,” the clerk says (in the worst Moriaty accent you can imagine)

“Yeah, I was going to UNM. I live with my mom now.”

“Well, I can’t process this unless you have proof that you’re living in Edgewood.”

(Okay, where am I gonna get proof? I don’t have any bills, that’s kinda the point of this whole personal freedom thing.)

Then the lady says, “Or you can get an emissions certification and I can process it through Bernalillo country.”

“Wait a second. So, even though I just told you that I don’t live in Albuquerque, you’ll register my car there? Is that legal?”

This prompts the evilest glare ever, which wasn’t entirely uncalled for. “Well, that’s what would make the paper work match.” SWEET. You know what lady, there’s a reason everyone dreads coming to the DMV. I don’t think I’ve ever been like, “Weee! A trip to the DMV today! I hope they have lollipops!”(I guess I was when I got my license, but I don’t really remember.). You would think that when so many people are so upset about a significant branch of local government, something might be done to fix it. Nope. That would be logical.

But, as far as I’m concerned, I paid my dollar and I’m now the official owner of property! Gawd, what a ridiculous feeling. I’m actually really excited about it, which was a big part of why the DMV trip was so terrible.

North 14. Safety!


TACO BUENO, emmer effers.


So, I pretty much thought I was halcunating the other night while driving down San Mateo. What do I see on the west side of the street, but a Taco Bueno. Taco Bueno is a Mexican fast food chain that’s been around since the 60’s. They’re most popular in Texas and Oklahoma, hence why I was convinced that I had fallen asleep at the wheel and I was having a dream about being in Oklahoma again. It triggered a semi-massive freakout.

Bueno is like the tasty child of Bell and Cabana. The really good news you can be completely full on under $4! The bad news is the reason that happens is because it’s probably the most fattening food on the planet.

Last, but certainly not least, there’s a new member of my own personal dashboard confessional, courtesy of this very nice redheaded snowboarder in Washington.


MEGA-BLOG! And why not? I did have fun in Texas, remember?

New Mexico is treating me well. I’m looking to save up some more money before heading out again. I really wanted to do a California trip, but finances and time might cancel that. I might just be heading east, destination Quebec, which was kind of the ultimate goal in all of this. California’s not going anywhere, at least not in the next 20 years.

HOWEVER, California would be a lot cheaper if I have someone else to go with. SO, if you’re interested in dropping your whole life (and about $300 in gas) for about 6 weeks, let me know. My planned route would take me up Highway 1/101 (San Diego, LA, San Francisco) to Oregon (Portland) and finally to Washington (Seattle and Bellingham). On the way back, there’d be a whole lotta desert and Las Vegas. I’m excepting any and all applicants who think they could be in a car with me for about 4,000 miles. AND WHO COULDN’T? I’m looking to leave ASAP.

I am getting ridiculously stir-crazy. I might head up to Raton for a weekend, just for some fresh air. I am completely in love with having no responsibilities. I’ve been telling people that this is the first time in five years I haven’t been completely and totally stressed out. I’ve waken up by going swimming (and by swimming, I really mean water-playing, because I can’t really swim. I know, I’m not really proud of myself either) almost every day this week.

Sweetness.