Showing posts with label new mexico luv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new mexico luv. Show all posts

3.28.2010

Meat falls off the bone.


Want to know where I’ve been? Everywhere, really. Falling in love to the sounds of the city.


2010’s been kind thus far. Or as kind as it can be. Highlights of the first three months:


1. I bought a car. A CAR. I bought a car. Big hairy deal, friends. Never in my life have I had such responsibility before. It’s mine, for better or worse. Of course, a week after I buy it, it gets recalled. Of course! I’m not too worried about it, however. Ye old Toyota truck kept me safe and happy for almost 10 years (RIP Joan Rivers) so I had not a concern about buying another one. I ended up with a 2009 Toyota Matrix. I’m pretty happy with it, especially the power locks and windows. After 10 years of manual locks and a back window that would almost fly off the truck when you opened it, I’m excited to have keys that have buttons that make my car go BEEP.

Now, You might be wondering how I was able to afford such a vessel, as I have been rocking some financial stress recently. Well, true to form, Joan Rivers took care of me even after her death (RIP). State Farm gave me $8,300 for my truck, manufactured in 2000 with 200,000+ miles on it. I made the insurance dude repeat it about 5 times. Could not believe it. I was expecting maybe $2,000. It almost makes losing her that much more heartbreaking. She was a good ol’ girl. I still miss her fraying selt beats and the neon green silly putty stuck to the passengers seat. I can only hope she goes on to help lots of other baby Toyotas. Once again, RIP, fair truck, RIP.

2. Someone hit my new car. I know, I know, it’s fine, go ahead and laugh. I did. It’s hilarious just how much can possibly happen to my cars in a month. This time I wasn’t in the car. Oklahoma City had an ice storm back in late January and it basically shut down the city for 3 days. My favorite part was watching everyone freak out about it before hand. The lines at gas stations were ridiculous and you couldn’t find a loaf of bread or laundry detergent to save your life. Really, guys? Oklahomans laugh in the face in tornados. But ice storms, they don’t fuck around with their ice storms.

Anyway, I parked my car on the street, not in the parking lot of the condo complex, in an attempt to minimize the chance of something hitting it, AKA tree limbs and power lines which tend to fall down a lot in ice storms. However, I did not calculate the chances of another car driving down the road on an inch of ice and sliding into my parked vehicle, which is exactly what happened. As for when, your guess is as good as mine. I didn’t touch my car for 3 days because I didn’t want to wreck it and I was terrified to drive in bad weather after what happened to me and the truck in December. Pretty simple logic. When I did finally drive it, I went to Homeland to see if they actually might have some bread and sure ‘nuf, someone nailed my left front fender and didn’t leave a note. Thanks, dude.

It took me about a month and a half to get the money I needed for my deductible, but I did go ahead and get the damage fixed. So now she’s shiny and clean again. I’m just waiting for something to happen to it again. It’s such an abnormal feeling for me to now be driving a car that doesn’t have an effed up front end.


3. We had an ice storm.

I've learned pretty typical ice storm procedure is stay indoors and drink as much as possible.

So, this happened.




3. I made two trips back home. The first was back in January to actually celebrate Christmas with my mom, since I didn’t get to do that. It was a nice, mellow trip. I took a week off from work and treated myself to a plane ride. I spent most of my time in the mountains with family, but did have a very, VERY drunken night with Maria in there.


Her words: “You drank the whole bar.” My words: “It’s a miracle I was upright.” And thank GOD my phone battery died. Or you all would have been subjected to absolute torture. The good news is that I got about $20 worth of Golden Pride to cure my hangover. Bless you, Albuquerque.


The second trip was last weekend and far more eventful. On Friday night, Flood the Sun played their last show. But the big event of the night was Joel asking Ashley to marry him. I was in on it for a few days prior, but Ashley was completely in the dark. When I got to Burt’s, Joel told me it was my job to make sure Ashley stayed happy. He was worried that she might get emotional with it being the last show. I think I succeeded. The entire time Flood the Sun is playing, I’m about to bust because I know what’s coming.


And then, it happens and I do burst. It was so sweet and so perfect and Ashley had no idea what was about to happen until Joel was down on one knee. I’ve never seen the two of them smile like that. I get a bit misty thinking about it.


On Sunday, Emily Stone became Emily Kohen. It was quite the event. The wedding, the reception, the wedding party, the bride, they all looked beautiful. But probably the most beautiful part was seeing one of my oldest Albuquerque friends marry someone who makes her so happy. Emily and I have seen some days, we’ve had quite a few adventures together. We may not be as close as we once were, but I was really happy that I got to be part of the next great adventure in her life.


So, congrats and mozel tov to the Kohens and the soon-to-be Dickmans. That weekend melted my heart into a pile of goo.

3. I still have a job. And yeah, it’s still temporary and that’s still driving me crazy. But I’m trying to be content with what I have. It’s a paycheck after all. The great news is I applied to OU this week. So it’s only a matter of time before I’m signing up for classes and getting back to the academic life, something I am so, so, so excited about. I haven’t quite figured out how I’ll be combining school with work when they collide, but I’m also not worrying about it. I’m more concerned with being happy at this point and getting back in a classroom will make me happier than most anything else. I’m 17 credits of a BA in Anthropology. Part of me just wants to crank it out in a semester and live off a small student loan. Most of me knows I shouldn’t do that.

4. Remember the novel I talked about on here a few times? I started writing it in April of 2008. I wrote pretty consistently from then till about December of that year then I lost interest and I drifted off from it. I came back to it a few months ago, with new motivation, and actually finished it on the 25th. That’s right, I, me, little old me, has written a book. A BOOK. 441 pages of BOOK. I’m not one to be a show off, but I’m proud of myself. I’ve started noveling several times and I get about 100 pages in and completely lose interest. So I’m applauding myself for actually getting it done.

So, what’s it about? Good question. I’m not quite sure. Me mostly, I guess. There’s a lot about the fire in the Golden West, some of college, a lot about growing up. It’s fiction, but it feels like I wrote a memoir. Now, the book itself is total crap. And I’m not just saying that. It’s a mess of grammar errors, typos and fluff. A part of me wants to lock it away and never look at it again. The other part wants to dive back in and get it ready for public consumption; maybe put myself through the super-awesome and self-esteem building process of trying to get it published. However, I don’t think I have the confidence (or the money) for something like that at this point in my life. So, for now, I wrote it for me. It might just stay that way. Who knows. I’m just celebrating the accomplishment.

5. Gertie killed a bird back to January. This was horrible, absolutely horrible. By killed, I mean she slayed that thing. Left nothing for the taking. We’re still finding feathers.

The day of the incident, I came home and Chelsey was napping. I open her bedroom door to retrieve the dog and Gertie trots out. We go into my room and get on the iMac. Now, I can open my bedroom window and it’s low enough that Gertie can scamper out of it and into the yard. This is awesome late at night. So, Gertie starts scratching at the window to go out and I open it. As soon as I do, I see this sea of white feathers. I already know what’s happened. I close the window immediately with Gertie outside. About a minute later, I look out and there’s Gertie, sitting by the window, prim, proper and proud, with the dismembered carcass of what might have once been a bird at her feet. I make Gertie come back in and make her leave the bird outside. I wait for Chelsey to wake up and tell her the awesome news. We decide to remove the bird with a team effort; she holds open the bag, I drop the bird in. Normally, things like that don’t bother me. It’s just nature. I worked at a vet for a long time. But what Gertie did to that bird… was completely unnatural. It took us about 20 minutes to build up the courage to go out to the yard and get the bird. But we did it and screamed the whole time. Once it was in the bag, I just threw it over the fence. Bad move, I know. A kid could have found it. But dudes, I was beyond caring. We tried our best to clean up the feathers but it was almost hopeless. Pretty sure Gertie ate most of them.

On that note, Gertie has eaten the blades off of one of my razors and chewed up multiple lighters, meaning she’s also probably consumed lighter fluid. The puppy is indestructible.



6. Kenneth came for a visit. My first visitor in Oklahoma! It was quite the event, His bus got stuck in the East Mountains for 4 hours and delayed in Amarillo for another 3. He was supposed to get in Monday morning at 9:30. He got in Monday afternoon at 4:00. Poor guy. But we had fun. We didn’t do too terribly much, honestly. He loaded World of Warcraft on my computer and one night, I fell asleep to the sweet sounds of him typing and battling away. What a flashback it was. It was nice to just spend time with him, just watch a movie together, that sort of thing, the way we used to.


We also took in the National Memorial, the first time I’d been since I’ve lived here, a bit of downtown and Myriad Gardens,


which has some grossness happening.


7. I’m not the only one buying a car. Chelsey got a new Kia Forte back in January as well. My mom decided she was a little sick of being stuck in the mud and invested in a Rav 4 when I was visiting in March. The dealer was only going to give her $500 for her 1993 Corolla, something she was a bit upset about. So she said, “Does Kenneth need a car?” Me: “Uh, yeah.” Mom: “Okay, he can have mine.” Just like that. Mom’s pretty sweet.

Other than that, life’s finding a routine. Something that would normally upset me but after the chaos of last year, I’m pumped about it. I’ve been trying out several infamous Oklahoma eateries (see Mr. Spriggs, Eischens, Kendalls and the great onion burger war). I’m scared of the impending tornado season. I like vodka + soda a lot these days. I’m hoping to head to Dallas on May 15th for Tom Petty. I’ve been enjoying Sundays quite a bit, which normally includes brunch, Megan, mimosas, and Chelsey singing Lady Gaga at the HiLo.


Bonus Sunday activity. Or not. Depending on how you look at it.


Sometimes I wonder if I’ve been too calm and too rational recently. Like, maybe it would be helpful to lose my head a little bit, let the crazy girl run free.

12.09.2008

Please Don't Walk Away.


Happy Holidays.


Talk about domestication, I decorated my house and baked enchiladas in the same night. This, is completely unheard of. It's amazing the lengths I'll go to procrastinate about editing my cover letter. Again. For the 19th time. (No really, 19 saved drafts on my computer.) Above photograph is a clear demonstration of job search frustration. Take notice of the frazzled hair and under-eye bags.

Last week, I babysat a film crew in the El Rey. Men Who Stare at Goats used the theater for catering and costuming. Catering was the buzzword in my agreement to babysit. I knew it would be an early morning, but I had no idea I'd have to be at the El Rey at FOUR IN THE FREAKING MORNING. And I certainly didn't have a clue that I wouldn't get out of there until SEVEN THIRTY IN THE FREAKING NIGHT. You film people are crazy. People, especially of a certain age, seem to have a hard time understanding why I have a film degree and yet so reluctant to work on a film set. FOUR IN THE FREAKING MORNING, that's why. For my efforts, I got to watch the entire first season of Arrested Development (Steve Holt!) with limited interruption and a to-go box full of probably the best salmon I've ever eaten in my life.

Side note: The costume people for that movie are meanies. The second they walked in the El Rey, they started talking shit about it. Trust me, I'm aware that she's seen better days, but come on now. I wish I could go to all their houses and insult them. I threw down some pretty vicious lady eye daggers and their insults seemed to go away. Or at least, out of my earshot.

I've been a bit of a solitary primate lately, since my boyfriend's lost in an abyss of finals and I seem to be operating on the complete opposite sleep schedule than anyone else I know. But, Sunday I caught up with Jennifer and walked the Rinconada Canyon Trail off of Unser. Pretty good day; I sort of forget how close all that stuff is. If anyone's got a day off this week (or wants to take one), let's go up to Chaco. My treat.


Because this place is pretty great.


It's cold in my house. But I'd much rather burrow under blankets than pay PNM any more money.

10.29.2008

Coffee, Tom. Freaking coffee.

I decided today that my job can be summed up in a single phrase, "What do you want me to do about it?"

In researching this book, I found this fantastic review:

I vaguely remembered when this riot took place, hearing it on the national news. They never really went into great detail, as to why the riots took place. However, this excellent book goes deeply into the corruption, the physical blackmail, and the awful conditions taking place inside this prison. This book will make you angry! This prison was a trainwreck waiting to happen, and those in power knew it. This book discusses specific events leading up to the riot, the overcrowding, the lack of proper amnentities, the threat of violence not only from inmates but from guards as well, all of these and more contributed to the horrific conclusion of that three-day-weekend in hell.
Yes, it is graphic, and not for those who don't want to know the torture endured by some of the weaker inmates, but the truth being exposed may keep the Mexico prison riot from happening again, there or in the U.S.


Wait for it....

FAIL.

Dad got a wind turbine for his birthday today. Feliz compleanos, padre.

Mom's born on January 20th. She would like a black president and an inspirational speech. Go vote.

9.05.2008

He is NOT the father.


Instead of watching John McCain accept his party's nomination, Maria and I decided to go watch the OTHER Old Man Gloom.

If you're unfamiliar with Zozobra (aka live in Oklahoma), it's this party where 40,000 people pile into a park and watch a giant paper mache marionette burn to the ground. So correct! It is the most useless/best thing ever!

Burning Zozobra is supposed to rid yourself of gloom. You're also supposed to bring pictures, divorce papers, lawsuits, parking tickets, things like that, to be burned up with Old Man Gloom. It's nothing but an excuse to party. But it's also neat to watch something large be lit on fire.


It was the first time I'd been and I went expecting the worst. Once again, I really hate Santa Fe. And the organization of their public events completely lived up to my expectations. You would think, after having this event since 1924, that maybe, just maybe, there would be some organization to it. And you would be completely wrong. Finding parking in Santa Fe is bad enough. Try finding it in the middle of 40,000 people. You'd think maybe they would have have a Park n Ride from somewhere. Once again, you'd be wrong.

Maria and I left Albuquerque about 6:30 after ATMing and eating. Various internet sources told me that there was in fact, a park and ride at "the mall". Limited Santa Fe knowledge tells me that "the mall" is Villa Linda, or Santa Fe Place as it's called. WRONG. The "Park n Ride" was actually at DeVarges Center which can park about 500 cars. Maybe. And it's a mile from the park they have Zozobra. Maria and I lucked the freak out and found a spot at the DeVarges Center when someone left. We then walked a mile, got herded, crossed a few tiny bridges, and got into the actual park at about 8:00. I was terrified we were going to miss it.


But we didn't!


Our timing was actually near perfect. We didn't have to stand too long, he started burning at about 8:30. Because it's Santa Fe, there was a whole lot of modern dance before they get to the actual fire, which lasts under a minute. I guess they want you to feel like you're getting a show out of Zozobra, but I don't think they realize the only thing people care about is watching the dang thing burn.


I'M IN UR FIESTAS, BURNIN UP UR GLOOM.


But, considering I got about 15 minutes of entertainment for a 4 hour ordeal, I still had a lot of fun. I think there is some karma in it and the crowd was super excited about it.

But, and this is very important, do you know what started today? Do you? Because I do. AND IT'S THE FREAKING FAIR. I. LOVE. THE. FAIR. So, wine festival on Monday, Zozobra on Thursday, and Fair on Sunday? Yeah, best week for New Mexico ever.

2.19.2008

You drank. You drunk. You fail.

I've become a canyon winder. Every day, I commute through the trees and into the big city. And I love it, really I do. That drive makes me feel 5 years old and amazingly adult all at the same time. It's nostalgic since I made that drive so often when I was a wee Catherine and now I make it on my way to my 10:00 to 6:00 job. I loved that cement plant when I was a kid. Just like all other mountain kids, I thought it was a castle and wanted nothing more than to go slide down one of those giant slides. Now, I'm very glad I was a timid child.

I've decided we need to go back to a barter system, given the recession. My Western Civ I teacher told me that capitalism as an economic system only had another 20 years left in it and I think he was right. So, I vote for "give me a goat, I'll give a fence." However, since I don't have any goats or fencing, I'd prefer "give me an iMac, I'll give you a keg of Shiner."

Angie gave me an offer I couldn't refuse yesterday, a public lecture at a small town public library talking about piercing safety and history. HELLO. Yes, please give me an excuse to talk a whole lot in public about things I can never shut up about.

I applied for a very exciting job yesterday, one which I can't speak too much of yet. With any luck, I'll be staying here for it, but I might have to leave. As I told Joel on Saturday, the longer I stay here, the more I want to stay. I've been out now, I've seen a good chunk of all these states and I still proclaim that New Mexico is the fairest of them all. I love being entrapped.

6.19.2007

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.