Home is home. I've been spending about 90% of my time in Edgewood with my mom. I'm kind of feeling the pressure of constant hangout-ness. While the people I've seen over the past few days bring me nothing but comfort, I'm still missing a little bit of solitude. I miss just hanging out in my room, on the internet, and listening to music. OH. Those were the days.
I get a bit of that with my mom, as I do have "a room" there. But this room is piled high with boxes and bags, all my earthy possesions are split between that room and my boyfriend's closet. So, it's wierd, to sit on my actual bed, which is stacked on top of another bed, and just look at all your "stuff". Your life. In a box.
I'm currently perched atop the Golden West Saloon, watching a band load out. I've been doing some work here, playing catch-up on some office stuff. It's been okay, even the slightest hint of work sends anxiety up my spine. Oh, how I am enjoying my time off.
A big part of me feels like I never left. Well, I guess it wasn't that long. But, minus the whole carting my life around in a few bags thing, everything's about the same, I'm in my little Burque groove. Not bad, not good, just there and repetative. It's a little mudane, but in that, also comforting.
Tonight, I went to see Revolting Drag Queens at the Vortex. Burque peeps, if you find yourself with nothing to do on a weekend night, please, please, PLEASE go. It was the funnest theater experience I've had in a while. Safe to say, the ladies of The Dolls, have won my vote for the second best performance troupe in Albuquerque. :)
Sadly, all this climate change and lack of money has left my face pretty broken out. To the point of being painful. You know, acne's not supossed to last forever.
Hopefully, I head out for California after the 4th, if money allows. I'm excited to spend time by the ocean.
6.26.2007
Making change is haaaaaard!
NEWSFLASH: Holy God, there is a Taco Bueno on San Mateo now. I almost wrecked my car when I saw it.
BLOG: Last night, me and Kenneth decided to go to Macs Steak in the Ruf for dinner, an old standby for us. We get there, we order. Our total is $19.03. So, we get out a 20 dollar bill and 3 pennies, $20.03. Simple enough.
As we’re waiting, we see these two high school cholas get into a car any say, “What a dumb bitch!” in unison.
The girl comes out with our food on a shiny new red tray. After searching the rather basic receipt for at least 30 seconds, she says, “Your total is $19.03.”
“Okay,” says I, handing her the $20.03.
She immediately deposits 97 cents in my hand. I look at her a little bit perplexed.
“Is that right?” she says.
“Actually, I gave you $20.03, so I should get a dollar back,” I say, handing her the change.
She takes it back, stares at it, and says, “So, wait, what?”
“Well, the total was $19.03, so I gave you $20.03. I should get a dollar for change.” (Keep in mind this whole time me and Kenneth were planning on giving her the dollar.)
It takes her a second to react. “Um, I don’t get it,” she says, still staring at the change.
“I just need a dollar back. Not the 97 cents, I gave you three pennies to make up for it.”
No response, still staring at the change.
“Okay. I’m gonna go inside and get you some… straws,” she says. She scurries off.
Kenneth and me sit there for about 3 minutes, waiting for straws. They never come. Clearly, this girl is not coming back and she had NO idea what just happened.
“I don’t think she’s coming back,” I say.
“Wanna steal their tray?” Kenneth says.
“Sure.”
So, I guess we paid a dollar for a nice, new serving tray, which we are actively searching out uses for, other than hitting one another with.
BLOG: Last night, me and Kenneth decided to go to Macs Steak in the Ruf for dinner, an old standby for us. We get there, we order. Our total is $19.03. So, we get out a 20 dollar bill and 3 pennies, $20.03. Simple enough.
As we’re waiting, we see these two high school cholas get into a car any say, “What a dumb bitch!” in unison.
The girl comes out with our food on a shiny new red tray. After searching the rather basic receipt for at least 30 seconds, she says, “Your total is $19.03.”
“Okay,” says I, handing her the $20.03.
She immediately deposits 97 cents in my hand. I look at her a little bit perplexed.
“Is that right?” she says.
“Actually, I gave you $20.03, so I should get a dollar back,” I say, handing her the change.
She takes it back, stares at it, and says, “So, wait, what?”
“Well, the total was $19.03, so I gave you $20.03. I should get a dollar for change.” (Keep in mind this whole time me and Kenneth were planning on giving her the dollar.)
It takes her a second to react. “Um, I don’t get it,” she says, still staring at the change.
“I just need a dollar back. Not the 97 cents, I gave you three pennies to make up for it.”
No response, still staring at the change.
“Okay. I’m gonna go inside and get you some… straws,” she says. She scurries off.
Kenneth and me sit there for about 3 minutes, waiting for straws. They never come. Clearly, this girl is not coming back and she had NO idea what just happened.
“I don’t think she’s coming back,” I say.
“Wanna steal their tray?” Kenneth says.
“Sure.”
So, I guess we paid a dollar for a nice, new serving tray, which we are actively searching out uses for, other than hitting one another with.
6.24.2007
Satellite WiFi Killer.
First and foremost, I need to congratulate Matt and Melanie on having their son, Caden Jakob, last week.
Oh, Matthew, how far we've come from dying our hair in motel bathrooms and taking way too much No Doze at 4am. Now, we're.... adults? Well, probably not quite. But still, I'm sure both of them are going to kick the crap out of parenting.
Well, true story, I'm in Albuquerque. Kinda didn't want to make a big deal about it, since I've only been gone a few weeks. But, I got offered a bartending gig and a couple other opportunities to make money presented themselves. So, here I be. Mass apologies to BN for not being in attendance last night. I've bee fighting off a cold all week and it seems that yesterday, after a full night of bartending, I was dead. I actually managed to fall asleep in the Golden West while there was a show going on. I was impressed with myself. I think the cold managed to drain itself into my brain and I was dizzy and discombobulated all day yesterday. Not exactly the state I needed to be in at the Launchpad. But, I did have every intention of showing up, and once again, I apologize I wasn't there. I was pretty sad about it.
I left Norman on Thursday. I was actually a little sad about it. I'm thinking of ways I might be able to make money there, spend a little bit more time there, etc. We shall see. I stayed Thursday night in Pampa emmereffing Texas, where my dad lives/used to work. No one was at his house, we was in Tucumcari, his wife was on a religious retreat, and her kids in Washington. So, I got the nice, little house all to myself, something very welcoming. The thing about traveling is that I'm with someone almost 24/7. For the most part, I'm a solitary primate, I like my space. So, just being able to lay around on the couch and watch all the cable TV I could fit into my brain, was great.
I told my dad, "Pampa Texas isn't the middle of no where, but you can see it from there." My dad's family has lots of roots in the Texas panhandle and my dad took the Chamber of Commerce job there for a few years. I spent some Christmas's there, with my uncle and extended family. Also, when I went overseas when I was 16, the tour group I went with was based out of Pampa. It's pretty typical small town America; local sports are god, everyone hangs out at the Sonic, and I'm pretty sure firin' guns off is good fun. But, relaxation is very possible.
I drove to Tucumcari the next day to have lunch with my dad. He's working there now, doing economic development. He made sure to scold me for being vulgur on my blog. What a good dad. :) However, my poor dad is stuck living in a motel room because, needless to say, there's not of real estate options in Tucumcari. Oddly enough, my great grandfather was ordained an elder in Tucumcari in 1917. You're never far from home.
After getting into Albuquerque, I went straight to bartending, which could probably explain my exhaustion. I'm looking forward to some hardcore relaxing while I'm in the Burk, as well as making some cash. If anyone has any opportunities for money, lemme know. I'll mow your damn lawn, slave away in a fireworks stand, whatever. I don't really care.
I missed you, desert heat. Thanks for getting me with such a warm reception. Jesus Christ.
Oh, Matthew, how far we've come from dying our hair in motel bathrooms and taking way too much No Doze at 4am. Now, we're.... adults? Well, probably not quite. But still, I'm sure both of them are going to kick the crap out of parenting.
Well, true story, I'm in Albuquerque. Kinda didn't want to make a big deal about it, since I've only been gone a few weeks. But, I got offered a bartending gig and a couple other opportunities to make money presented themselves. So, here I be. Mass apologies to BN for not being in attendance last night. I've bee fighting off a cold all week and it seems that yesterday, after a full night of bartending, I was dead. I actually managed to fall asleep in the Golden West while there was a show going on. I was impressed with myself. I think the cold managed to drain itself into my brain and I was dizzy and discombobulated all day yesterday. Not exactly the state I needed to be in at the Launchpad. But, I did have every intention of showing up, and once again, I apologize I wasn't there. I was pretty sad about it.
I left Norman on Thursday. I was actually a little sad about it. I'm thinking of ways I might be able to make money there, spend a little bit more time there, etc. We shall see. I stayed Thursday night in Pampa emmereffing Texas, where my dad lives/used to work. No one was at his house, we was in Tucumcari, his wife was on a religious retreat, and her kids in Washington. So, I got the nice, little house all to myself, something very welcoming. The thing about traveling is that I'm with someone almost 24/7. For the most part, I'm a solitary primate, I like my space. So, just being able to lay around on the couch and watch all the cable TV I could fit into my brain, was great.
I told my dad, "Pampa Texas isn't the middle of no where, but you can see it from there." My dad's family has lots of roots in the Texas panhandle and my dad took the Chamber of Commerce job there for a few years. I spent some Christmas's there, with my uncle and extended family. Also, when I went overseas when I was 16, the tour group I went with was based out of Pampa. It's pretty typical small town America; local sports are god, everyone hangs out at the Sonic, and I'm pretty sure firin' guns off is good fun. But, relaxation is very possible.
I drove to Tucumcari the next day to have lunch with my dad. He's working there now, doing economic development. He made sure to scold me for being vulgur on my blog. What a good dad. :) However, my poor dad is stuck living in a motel room because, needless to say, there's not of real estate options in Tucumcari. Oddly enough, my great grandfather was ordained an elder in Tucumcari in 1917. You're never far from home.
After getting into Albuquerque, I went straight to bartending, which could probably explain my exhaustion. I'm looking forward to some hardcore relaxing while I'm in the Burk, as well as making some cash. If anyone has any opportunities for money, lemme know. I'll mow your damn lawn, slave away in a fireworks stand, whatever. I don't really care.
I missed you, desert heat. Thanks for getting me with such a warm reception. Jesus Christ.
6.21.2007
Pure magic.
And why?
Finally, finally, finally... I got to go here:
Yay!
Me and Matt got up early after bingo night and left Norman by 8:30, Arlington-bound. It was a pretty uneventful. Upon arriving in Texas, things just, you know, got a little more Texan. There can not be a giant American flag, unless there's a giant Texas one right next to it. We also drove past the Texas Motor Speedway, on Dale Earnhardt Way. That's nice. Six Flags is located on the road titled, "Road to Six Flags". I was amazed, Texas is just as creative as Kansas in naming. We also were on the "Tom Landry Memorial Highway" for a while. There was a picture of a fedora on the actual highway signage.
And don't you forget it.
Six Flags, in general, was alot of fun (BATMOBILE!). Matt and me must have hit the Six Flags day-to-go jackpot. The longest we had to wait to ride anything was maybe half an hour. Some rides, we just walked unto. Not only that, but they ahve re-admission, which allowed for us to go to Chipotle for lunch and allowed for me to go to CVS pharmacy, squirt a gob of sunblock into my hand, and walk out. Seriously, $10? Uh, not when I can do that. Matt laughed at me as I was slathering myself in my contraband sunblock in the parking lot. We drove by a store called Condom Sense, I thought it was great, and the site for the new Cowboys Stadium. The old Cowboys stadium cost $35 Million to build in 1971 and seats around 66,000 people. The new stadium will cost ONE BILLION DOLLARS and seat 100,000. You see? Nothing in Texas is ever big enough!
But, here's the best part of big Texas:
The Texas Giant!
Oh, I've got such a soft spot in my heart for wooden rollercoasters. They're fantastic. Sure, they hurt and you feel like death is certain about 90% of the time, but they're just so romantic. I've always been far more amazed with their construction, as opposed to metal coasters. I think they just more dramatic. "To construct this monster (the Texas Giant), contractors used 900,000 board feet of lumber, poured 1,220 concrete piers, hammered 10 tons of nails and screwed in 81,370 bolts. The estimated total cost to construct the Texas Giant was five and half million dollars." Amazing! Not only all that, but it was the most fun I had all day. I was laughing and smiling the whole time. Oh, I love you, rollercoasters. But, especially you, Texas Giant.
So, we were pretty much done with Six Flags by 6:30. And it just so happened that the Cubs, Matt's favorite baseball team, were playing the Texas Rangers that night. And Six Flags just happens to be right down the road from Texas Ballpark. So, we went to the game.
Keep in mind, this was my very first professional sporting event. As soon as we walk into the ballpark, Matt hears this little girl ask her father, "Daddy is this going to be the bestest day of my life?", which was just completely precious. You cannot argue that there is a magic about baseball, all the legends, the stories, the superstitions, especially with the Cubs. Some of it is lost, thanks to steriods, salaries, and big business. But, there's still something a little bit enchanting about baseball.
And what's baseball without beer?
And bearded friends!
Well, last night's game was kind of special. Sammy Sosa was trying to hit home run #600, a pretty big deal, dontcha know? I can only assume that's what the little girl was refering to, a little piece of baseball magic for everyone there to see. Well, he did it. You should have seen that place. People were going insane, there were so many flashes going off, everyone was cheering. I wasn't even in my seat.
We'd gone to the roof so Matt could smoke. I hear Sosa's name being called to bat and I walked to the nearest seating entrance, just as he swung at the second pitch. And there it went, freakout. As I was walking back, I see this janitor, holding his broom and his trash sweap, just smiling. I told Matt, I can guarantee that man loved the Texas Rangers more than anyone else in that whole stadium. He looked very, very happy. It was, in fact, a pretty awesome moment, regardless of steriod abuse, and everything else that plagues professional sports. There is something at the heart of it, sometimes you forget it, but there's a reason it got to be so popular and it had nothing to do with corporate deals or drugs. I know it's idealist, but what part of magic isn't?
I was amazed. I managed to spend 12 whole hours in Texas and loved almost every minute of it. We go Jack in the Box on the way back and I woke up sore and hoarse this morning. The price you pay for a great day.
6.19.2007
Men are mowing lawns.
It is HOT AS SHIT here. I can handle 95 degree weather. Seriously, don't even play. That's nothing. But, add freaking 80% humidity, and I'm ready for death. I walked over to the OU Art Museum, about a 20 minute walk from where I parked (illegally. I was almost hoping for an OU parking ticket. Good thing to show the parents!) and I think I lost about 5 pounds during that freaking walk.
Never in my damn life have I seen so many people mowing lawns as I've seen today. At least 20! People actually give a crap about yardwork here, I guess. It's like the northeast heights of Burk. But no xeroscaping. I'm sure if I tried to explain to Matt's dad (JIMMY) that we put rocks on our lawn in patterns, he'd just go, "What in the hell is that?"
Speaking of Matt's parents, they're pretty much the best people in the world. They make me feel so welcome every time I'm here, always offering thier food, their house. I've hit the free-places-to-stay jackpot when I'm here.
But, my favorite part of staying here is every night, Matt's mom puts out a bowl of cereal every night for Matt's dad to eat the next morning. I think it's probably the most precious thing on the face of the planet.
I keep having crazy suspension dreams, where it's more this preformance art piece. I'm in a gallery, with lots of fabric (thanks Kate!), but I'm hung in this weird rig that lets me change poses mid-air. Almot like aereal gymnastics. And always to "Firestarter" or "Stay By My Side Tonight" but the Jimmy Eat World. I wake up facing the complete different direction. Why, oh why, can't this happen?
Hey, if you're bored, and last night I was, I majorly revamped my pictures on the space. It's intense.
Six Flags tomorrow (Finally! Don't you dare flood, Texas!). Between that, going to bingo tonight, and Matt's sunroof, I'm a happy Gata.
Never in my damn life have I seen so many people mowing lawns as I've seen today. At least 20! People actually give a crap about yardwork here, I guess. It's like the northeast heights of Burk. But no xeroscaping. I'm sure if I tried to explain to Matt's dad (JIMMY) that we put rocks on our lawn in patterns, he'd just go, "What in the hell is that?"
Speaking of Matt's parents, they're pretty much the best people in the world. They make me feel so welcome every time I'm here, always offering thier food, their house. I've hit the free-places-to-stay jackpot when I'm here.
But, my favorite part of staying here is every night, Matt's mom puts out a bowl of cereal every night for Matt's dad to eat the next morning. I think it's probably the most precious thing on the face of the planet.
I keep having crazy suspension dreams, where it's more this preformance art piece. I'm in a gallery, with lots of fabric (thanks Kate!), but I'm hung in this weird rig that lets me change poses mid-air. Almot like aereal gymnastics. And always to "Firestarter" or "Stay By My Side Tonight" but the Jimmy Eat World. I wake up facing the complete different direction. Why, oh why, can't this happen?
Hey, if you're bored, and last night I was, I majorly revamped my pictures on the space. It's intense.
Why Oklahoma ain't so bad.
Oklahoma and New Mexico are pretty similiar. Why?
One. They both hate Texas. That's a biggie.
Two. They're both home to legendary space chimps.
Three. Whenever someone says, "I'm going to Oklahoma" or "I'm going to New Mexico", they both get the exact same reaction, "Why?"
Being raised in New Mexico makes you see things differently. There's a beauty in the desert, but rarely is it the kind of beauty you just see, it has to be taught. It's a gradual appreciation. I've said it before. Learning to love home, especially New Mexico, is something you're only able to achieve over time.
New Mexico is my home and it always will be. My mom has lived in New Mexico for 31 years, and still she refers to New Jersey as her home (Jersey is also a lot like NM, but that's another post and a lot of Bruce Springsteen). New Mexico will be the same for me, I can already tell you that.
Home is healing. There's a big part of me that can not wait to come home, see my pink sandias and eat some Frontier. But, a part of me is so ready to leave it. That's what this trip is all about, seeing other people's homes and figuring out what makes them so excellent.
I took an instant liking to Oklahoma. I remember my skirt sticking to my legs and my hair poofing up instantly. Southern hair has nothing to do with Aquanet, it's all about the humidity. It just feels different here. That's the thing you'll notice driving across Texas from NM to OK, every time you get out your car, it's just a bit more humid. That's how you know you're close.
That and the sky.
Brian, the old trumpet player from Third Grade Scuffle told me once that he's never seen a bigger sky than an Oklahoma sky. I looked up and knew he was completely right. Oklahoma is open space, rolling fields. It feels so continous.
Oklahoma's got a completely different kind of history. The other day, Matt took me out to his family's farm for band practice. When I asked him about it, where it came from, and how long his family had owned it, he said, "Well, there was kind of this land run in 1889..." Something about that, knowing I was standing on a piece of land someone ran for and it's still in the same family really interested me. And yeah, I know all about how messed up the whole thing to Native Americans, but that was part of it. I've never been awed by standing on a piece of history the way that farm did.
But, what all of this has been taught to me, you see? Oklahoma is another place you must learn to love. But, once you do, it's in there.
In that, I think you can argue that every place is like that. Location is almost irrelevant, says the girl who grew up in Raton New Mexico and bitched about it almost every day. But, as I tell people now, who ask me about growing up in a small town, "Well, you can set shit on fire anywhere."
Just as much can happen to me here as anywhere else.
There are two things born into Oklahomians: hating Texas, and loving OU football. Oh, football. It's my secret reason for loving Norman, just as it was my secret reason for loving Friday nights in Raton. Sure, it's dumb. Sure, there's drug use, assholes, and probably a complete waste of time. But, here's the fact of it, something in that stupidity makes people passionate. Middle-aged men who care about nothing actually care about OU football. Even more than that, that silly little football field is a unifier for an entire state. Truth be told, that's pretty impressive.
With OU football, there happens to be this fantastic, little university (Matt told me the other day that most people in Oklahoma don't even associate OU football with a college. It's just football.). The University is almost a mirror of UNM, with nearly the same student body population (except it's a whooping 82% cacausian here). The big difference: funding. That silly, little football team, with all their ticket sales and hoodie sales rakes in millions of dollars each year. All of which must be shared with the University. And let's say it's yielded some lovely results. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful campus.
You see, it is beautiful here. Sometimes, you have to search it out and sometimes it's right in front of you.
Oklahoma makes me happy. It's not something anyone else can understand, just like most people would ever understand while such a cruel city like Albuquerque could be my comfort zone. But, a person's relation to space is completely relative, no place is universally adored. I kinda like that, having my own secret havens.
This whole thing excludes western Kansas, of course. There is nothing good about that place.
That place can suck a space chimp.
One. They both hate Texas. That's a biggie.
Two. They're both home to legendary space chimps.
Three. Whenever someone says, "I'm going to Oklahoma" or "I'm going to New Mexico", they both get the exact same reaction, "Why?"
Being raised in New Mexico makes you see things differently. There's a beauty in the desert, but rarely is it the kind of beauty you just see, it has to be taught. It's a gradual appreciation. I've said it before. Learning to love home, especially New Mexico, is something you're only able to achieve over time.
New Mexico is my home and it always will be. My mom has lived in New Mexico for 31 years, and still she refers to New Jersey as her home (Jersey is also a lot like NM, but that's another post and a lot of Bruce Springsteen). New Mexico will be the same for me, I can already tell you that.
Home is healing. There's a big part of me that can not wait to come home, see my pink sandias and eat some Frontier. But, a part of me is so ready to leave it. That's what this trip is all about, seeing other people's homes and figuring out what makes them so excellent.
I took an instant liking to Oklahoma. I remember my skirt sticking to my legs and my hair poofing up instantly. Southern hair has nothing to do with Aquanet, it's all about the humidity. It just feels different here. That's the thing you'll notice driving across Texas from NM to OK, every time you get out your car, it's just a bit more humid. That's how you know you're close.
That and the sky.
Brian, the old trumpet player from Third Grade Scuffle told me once that he's never seen a bigger sky than an Oklahoma sky. I looked up and knew he was completely right. Oklahoma is open space, rolling fields. It feels so continous.
Oklahoma's got a completely different kind of history. The other day, Matt took me out to his family's farm for band practice. When I asked him about it, where it came from, and how long his family had owned it, he said, "Well, there was kind of this land run in 1889..." Something about that, knowing I was standing on a piece of land someone ran for and it's still in the same family really interested me. And yeah, I know all about how messed up the whole thing to Native Americans, but that was part of it. I've never been awed by standing on a piece of history the way that farm did.
But, what all of this has been taught to me, you see? Oklahoma is another place you must learn to love. But, once you do, it's in there.
In that, I think you can argue that every place is like that. Location is almost irrelevant, says the girl who grew up in Raton New Mexico and bitched about it almost every day. But, as I tell people now, who ask me about growing up in a small town, "Well, you can set shit on fire anywhere."
Just as much can happen to me here as anywhere else.
There are two things born into Oklahomians: hating Texas, and loving OU football. Oh, football. It's my secret reason for loving Norman, just as it was my secret reason for loving Friday nights in Raton. Sure, it's dumb. Sure, there's drug use, assholes, and probably a complete waste of time. But, here's the fact of it, something in that stupidity makes people passionate. Middle-aged men who care about nothing actually care about OU football. Even more than that, that silly little football field is a unifier for an entire state. Truth be told, that's pretty impressive.
With OU football, there happens to be this fantastic, little university (Matt told me the other day that most people in Oklahoma don't even associate OU football with a college. It's just football.). The University is almost a mirror of UNM, with nearly the same student body population (except it's a whooping 82% cacausian here). The big difference: funding. That silly, little football team, with all their ticket sales and hoodie sales rakes in millions of dollars each year. All of which must be shared with the University. And let's say it's yielded some lovely results. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful campus.
You see, it is beautiful here. Sometimes, you have to search it out and sometimes it's right in front of you.
Oklahoma makes me happy. It's not something anyone else can understand, just like most people would ever understand while such a cruel city like Albuquerque could be my comfort zone. But, a person's relation to space is completely relative, no place is universally adored. I kinda like that, having my own secret havens.
This whole thing excludes western Kansas, of course. There is nothing good about that place.
That place can suck a space chimp.
6.18.2007
Well, I was going to go to Six Flags today.
But, then it decided to rain in Texas.
They're saying that towns are getting an inch of rain every 15 minutes. I-35, the inerstate from Dallas to Oklahoma City is closed at the north border of Texas.
And where's the one city in North Texas that isn't flooded? Arlington. I'll give you a guess where Six Flags is.
Sad is Cat.
But, it's for the better. I can work on a few blags and nurse a grumpy throat back to health. I probably wouldn't have been able to scream anyway.
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