Wall and Piece.

Gross, head cold. brb, poping my ears for the 5billionth time.

It's interesting the things you collect. I keep finding little trinkets in my room and knowing I saved it at some point for a purpose and now I cannot remember why. I get scared about throwing things away. Who knows, maybe in two years I'll remember why I saved that piece of paper. But, I really am trying to make an honest effort to get rid of things. It's acceptable to hang onto college notebooks and textbooks, right? Especially if you're planning on going back to school?

So far, the bookshelf and desk are packed and ready for their new home. And I still have 23 days to vacate. 3 WEEKS? Scary! Thinking about moving makes my heart beat fast, like a new crush. I'm really nervous about it, really scared about it, but excited at the same time.

Speaking of leaving, my boyfriend's totally one-uping me and going to Argentina for a year. He leaves in August. When he got his official acceptance letter from the University he's going to, Palermo, I got a little weepy, but mostly I'm just super excited (and jealous) for him.

I took a mini-drive last night; up Paseo all the way to Taylor Ranch, down Montano to Coors, Coors to I-40 and back home. It was one of those drives where everything looked really clear. If that makes any sense.

This isn't happening.

brb, taking pictures of abandoned water sheds.

Actually. brb, In Tucumcari. Mostly on a photographic mission, but it looks like I'll crank out some high quality job hunting while I'm here. I spent today in Clovis, exploring the Norman & Vi Petty Rock 'N' Roll Museum. In case you didn't know, Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison recorded in Clovis, New Mexico. You can't make this up. After museum, I wandered about town and clicked away at run down grain elevators and sprinkler systems. I love D80. So much.

Also, love this one.

Gucci collar for dollar.

Next time, you see Kyle, congratulate him on becoming a tropical storm.

My current worst fear in life is that I'll refer to someone on the phone as "sir" and it'll actually be a lady.

Blue eyes blind like the sun.

I feel like I've always known Kyle. Not in some mystical, cosmic kind of way, but just that he's always been around. When people ask how or when we met, I never have a good answer. I know he went to ska shows I went to for years before we were friends. I remember the first Made in Bangladesh show because I was fresh off a break up and busy flirting with someone else. :) But I guess we weren't friendly till I was friendly with Chas.


But there's not much of a story in it. He started hanging around, I started taking notice of him. I can tell you that he was completely oblivious to me until I was kissing his face. And even then, he swears he was still confused. (This is not unbelievable, and completely adorable, if you know Kyle.)


We started out slow. But, I remember being amazed at how easy it was to be with him. I was never stressed out when he was around. We just sort seemed to fall into place after a few months. Before I knew it, a few months turned into a year. Then, another year. And now, another. He's still here, the tall boy and his level head. I'm really such a lucky girl.


I've never put much emphasis on our relationship being perfect or quintessential. He's never been my everything, I'll never be his. We never plan things ahead of time. We hardly ever talk about "our future together" (mostly because that term MAKES ME WANT TO VOMIT). But, everything seems to work out regardless, It's hands down, the best relationship I've ever had. He knows exactly who I am. And even though we don't talk about it, I think he'll be around for a long time to come.


Well, today, it's been 3 years since the first time we kissed. Three freaking years he's been around. Through Ska Prom and finals week. Through divorce and death. Through burlesque shows and broken cars. Through graduation and fires, from New York City and back to the desert, he's been there. I can honestly say I didn't think we'd make it this long when we started. But, little did I know I'd ended up with a most fantastic person; a smart and honest one; which is such a rare combination.


Like I said, there's not much of a story to it. It's actually remarkably simple. But, not to say it's been boring. I think it's rare to meet someone as geniune as Kyle Johnson. I do cherish him. Sometimes, I find myself waiting for some kind of fallout, some drastic complication. Then, I remember to sit back, relax, and remember how good I have it. Like I said, I'm a lucky girl.


Happy anniversary, tall awkward boyfriend.

16 pounds of boost.

Summerfest is a giant quince. But with crackheads. Who dance suggestively. When one of those crackheads tried to hip-thrust at me, my boyfriend put his El Rey security experience into good use and puffed up like a blow fish. Kyle puffing up is about the cutest thing ever.

In other boyfriend-related news, he played his first show with Flood the Sun on Friday. And while he sort of throws off the height average of the band (he does that with everything, though), I think he's sort of in love with that band. They're sort of in love with him too.

The department of Cinematic Arts at UNM sent out a letter asking for information on what their graduates are doing with their degree. While I think most of my fellow graduates get to talk about movie productions and taking Harrison Ford coffee, I get to be all, "I drove to Canada. And I hate my job." No, it'll be much more than that. I think I've conquered a lot post-UNM. I'm still shocked and awed by how much I do use (or don't use) that confounded degree. But, I do love that I graduated from such a small department. It's nice to feel like all those professors do actually care about my brain.

Which, speaking of, I think my brain is frozen. Blogging is pulling teeth. I might take a break. I have been writing a lot of other things, though. Dare I say it, I might, just MIGHT, complete a dang novel. More typing than anything I'm too proud of, but that's what rough drafts are for.

Tacos.

I spent the last few days house sitting in the south north valley (if that makes any sense) caring for a gaggle of canines. Such a good thing for me, I miss my dog so much that any kind of dog interaction turns me cheerful.


This is Cedric. I re-named him Captain Bighead.

I love that part of town so, so much. Something about the dirt, maybe. It's much finer than in the rest of the city. And all those old houses with their miss-matched rooms. People hang out on their porches. I heard a quince happening a few blocks away. Truthfully, it's pretty much the hardest place in ABQ to find a house because no one sells them there. They stay in the families for as long as possible.

I think I just love Albuquerque so much in general. But town, you're hurting my feelings. You know that, don't you? If I ever work up the courage to leave and get to Oklahoma, I guarantee I'll find the one Mexican neighborhood in the state and live there.


Probably my new, favorite part of working downtown is that they've started turning on the fountain in Civic Plaza. So, I can sit, enjoy my lunch, and watch water run down cement. My boyfriend comes to visit me for lunch a lot, since I don't see him much any other time. His school schedule is pretty much the opposite of my work schedule.

I've decided I want this:

And am now saving for it feverishly.

It's been a while since I've done this. But here's one of those flyer things.

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. :)

Ronkonkoma Ramblers

Please. Get me to a decent internet connection.


Rap Superstars.

Well, boyfriend’s flying high right now and I’m proud to report that’ll be a long time before I get on a Long lsland Railroad train bound for Ronkonkoma again. Geez. His visit was more of the secrets of New York, whereas Maria’s was all about the stars and the glitz. Equally amazing, but completely different.

However, Kyle did take me to do one of the most manufactured New Yorkian treats…


Ice skating in Rockefeller Center! It was kind of magical, and I’m really glad I went on January 14, as opposed to December 23. It was way less crowded, so you could actually skate, as opposed to “ice-crawling”.


Here’s that thing.

We also went out to Coney Island. In the winter, oh man, is it ever fantastic. Everything was boarded up, including the Taco Bell, and the whole place was disserted. So of course, I loved it.







Coney Island is way at the tip of Brooklyn, so it’s a pretty decent Subway ride. And an amazing thing happens in Brooklyn…


The Subway isn’t underground anymore! (I know, it’s not that rare.)


Brooklyn faces.

We also tried to eat as locals, as much as we could. That included a trip to the Corner Bistro, home of the best cheap burger in NYC; McSorleys, a 150 year-old pub that still has saw dust on the floor and only serves two beers: a light and a dark; THE KGB, which, as I told Kate, I’m proud to report is a tiny neighborhood bar for aging literature professors. (By the way, SO easy to drink underage in NYC, I've been ID'd twice out of eight places.)


Also, Grays Papaya, home to the $3.50 recession special: 2 hot dogs and a 24 ounce juice. Love.


And White Castle. Of course. Excuse the image quality, too precious to not post.

So, after all of that in two days, we took it easy last night and went out to dinner. But! Look who was there!


Pope John Paul the Second!

And by Pope John Paul the Second, I mean my grandpa. Isn’t it uncanny?


Grandpa rules. Hard.

You got eyes.

When I don't blog, it normally means someone is visiting me, therefore it's rude to excuse myself for several hours of myspace-coma. And true to history...


My boyfriend's here.

We've been museum-ing, visiting the AMNH and the Met, but mostly just pacing ourselves, taking New York in bite sized portions. But that probably means we'll be bingeing the next two days. His trip is already almost over! :(

One of the awesome things we did was going to the Late Show with David Letterman. I'm a pretty big Letterman fan, grew up on him really. So, I was pretty excited. And it was a completely Writers Guild-friendly act, since he, and his company, settled already. Not surprisingly, they've got it down to a science, getting people in and out of the theater nice and quiet-like. We ended up being seated in the balcony, something that made me somewhat grumpy, but not much because it gave us a better view of that gorgeous old theater. House gots some history. And that was really the exciting thing for me, being there, in that theater. The show itself was okay, we were in and out in about an hour. Got to see Morgan Freeman and Tom Brokaw in person. Paul Schaffer and the CBS Orchestra is a pretty awesome band, by the way.

Today we had a Jersey adventure with my fantastically Jersey-an cousin Gina. She took us through Newark, since she goes to Rutgers Newark and needed to buy books. Then, we ended up at a very crowded Cheesecake Factory for maybe the biggest meal I've ever eaten. I don't care what anyone says. Newark (and Detroit!) really aren't that scary! Just don't go dumb places with dumb people and dumb things won't happen to you! Newark is no more ghetto than the Burque war zone. But I really liked Newark because THERE WAS A BOJANGLES THERE.

The Met is probably the greatest art institution in the western world. I've never been there, shockingly enough, but it really is a fantastic place, The Egypt rooms and all the Roman/Greek stuff was not shockingly awesome, but I really liked the musical instruments they have there. Also, it's pay as you wish, admission is only a suggested donation. And a tip, it's open late on Fridays and Saturdays. And much less crowded.

In case you're not myspace friends with Maria (and you really should be) go do that now and go look at all the fantastic pictures she took in New York.

I feel my time in New Jersey winding down. I might be happy to head for a different place and do some more exploring. But, there's still so much here I've got to explore. There is a chance I'll head down to Washington DC for a few days, if I can budget it, and Smithsonian until my face falls off. And maybe interview for an internship at Newsweek. And you all thought I was being a deadbeat on this trip! :)