Come out with an album, already!

Do yourself a favor and listen to "Babe." Thanks.

http://www.myspace.com/diamonddoves/music

This could also cheer you up.

In my attempt to save some of the image from the dark abyss, I turned Destiny's Child into an art film.

The first song of the night was Toni Braxton's "Unbreak My Heart," which she and I used to sing in the Broome Street office during our shifts together.  We scared a lot of residents away, I'm sure.  But, hey, that was just less maintenance requests to fax!

If this doesn't cheer you up, nothing will!

P.S. This is my car!

I think the people at Ford must have been spying on me.  Not only does the car fit my personality 100%, their marketing campaign heavily revolves around a goofball bearded dude.

"I designed these lowlights to highlight my sexy ankles...I like to call them my sankles." Plus a Tonya Harding reference.

Here's my car!  I named her BlueFuego.

Thanksgiving Recap

A holiday's holiday. A time when it's acceptable to wear elastic-wasted pants.  A day where it's absolutely scandalous if two people make the same cheese, crackers, and pepperoni tray.  Hours spent stuffing our faces and then complaining about how we ate too much, and then going for two servings of pie.  When most of the guests leave, we raid the refrigerator for that last taste of artichoke and cheese dip.  It's a cozy, lazy day.  Speaking from the synesthesia, Thanksgiving in my head is fuzzy.  Blurry around the edges.  Warm, but wistful.  Comfortable, but full of waiting.  Browns, reds, deep orange overlapping squares.  Cold feet and noses.

Here was what happened after my family left.  Dave and my oldest niece further pursued their love/hate relationship.  Video to follow.  You won't want to miss it.

I drew a giant squid!

For no damn good reason.

The Siena Spirit

LCD Soundsystem - Pow Pow

ADVANTAGES! ADVANTAGES!

I love this man.

The Decemberists - Everything I Try to Do, Nothing Seems to Turn Out Right

/end autobiographical malaise.

There, I got it out of my system.

Now I know I've made it.

My tattoo is featured in the "Prior Cultural Fallout" on www.powermobydick.com.

I used that site to write a paper once!  And I own a t-shirt from them.  Now I'm featured!  Wooo!

Me? Published? Get outta here!

Oh but I am!

www.marcopoloquarterly.com

Now the whole world will know I'm crazy.  Woo!

How Serendipitous!

The last time I was in NYC a few weeks ago, my friend and I ventured way out to Avenue C.  He had been to this place once or twice and immediately thought that it would eventually become "our place."  And, although we've only been there together once, it has.

I walked in and heard a familiar voice singing in the front of the room.  And then I looked over to the bar and saw a familiar face.  It was Frank Hoier and Feral Foster of Washington Square Park and Sidewalk Cafe Fame!  It was the first Manhattan edition of Roots 'n' Ruckus, a weekly roots music jam that's usually in Brooklyn.  I had met them years earlier as a student at NYU.  Feral even borrowed a pen of mine to write some other chick's information down.  A few months later, I saw them in the park again and my friends and I sat and sang with them.  I hadn't seen them since I was a sophomore.  No, they didn't remember me as they meet tons of people all the time.  But I really like their music, their style, their philosophy.  You should really check them out.  Here are some highlights: "We Both Live in Brooklyn Babe," "Comin' 'Round" and "John Henry."  My Frank Hoier impression was a long-standing source of entertainment for my friends.

So, that was cool.  Then Frank Hoier was reaching the end of his set as Feral Foster urged him to keep playing, "Just a couple more!"  Hoier paused for a few moments, seeming a little shy and exhausted, but then he started playing another song.  I am still completely startled and shocked and excited and confused at the song he played.  "Walkin' After Midnight" by Patsy Cline.

"Walkin' After Midnight" is probably one of the most meaningful songs of my life.  It would be  number one on the soundtrack if I were ever turned into a biopic.  It was my first karaoke song.  I used to walk around with a case of Patsy Cline tapes wherever I went.  It sums up my general feelings 80% of the time.  It's subtle.  It's beautiful.

The weirdest part, however, is that my friend and I had just sung it the night before for karaoke.  And he and I had decided long before that it was "our" song.  A song that we would put in the car and listen to on wistful drives back to Albany.

When Hoier started singing, "I go out a-walkin'..." we flipped out.  We caused a ruckus.  What are the odds that I would stumble into a bar named Banjo Jim's, two of my favorite musicians would be there, and one of them would sing my theme song that is also a special bonding point with my best friend?  Feral and Hoier's girlfriend Moselle (I'm not creepy, I only know her name because they are in a new band together: Boom Chick.  And they are adorable.) were sitting right next to us and probably very confused at our overwhelmed reaction to this meek song.  He played sweetly and quietly, but we just kept going crazy: "I can't believe this is happening right now.  Is this really happening?  Is he really playing Patsy Cline?  This is really happening!"  We couldn't stop laughing.  I couldn't stop grabbing my friend's arm and looking back and forth between his face and Frank Hoier's face to make sure it was real.

Who the hell covers Patsy Cline acoustically?  It was glorious.  The rest of the night was also ridiculous, as we made friends with farmers from Canada and I stayed a little later by myself and made some friends of my own.  I still get warm and fuzzies when I think of it.

A reason to settle in NYC if there ever was one.  Where else would that happen!?

I'll get there some day.  Eventually.

I'm going to NYC this weekend, and you can bet your banjos we're going back there.  It's like a hajj to Mecca now.

iPad pictures of boredom!

My Mock Political Campaign Commercial

It's not 100% technically sound, but I didn't really have time to make it "perfect."  Oh well!

Special thanks to Kanye, The Felice Brothers, and the cows.

Halloweeny Time

                        

I went trick-or-treating with the kids around my old 'hood tonight.  It was kind of surreal.  I haven't walked around there in a very, very long time.  So weird to think that I spent the first 17 years of my life confined to those blocks.  The big Partition Street hill didn't seem nearly as big this evening.  I didn't get winded walking up it.  Flashbacks of past Halloween costumes came to me as I sat on the ledge in the kitchen where my now overgrown behind used to perch beautifully.  I've been Wednesday Adams, Cruella DeVille, a bag of money, a nun (as a baby - that was my first costume), an alien, Dorothy, the Pillsbury Dough Girl, a rainbow with a pot of gold... It was a nice feeling to walk around and not be terrified that someone was going to pelt me with an egg.  I guess some high school gang-like group used to haze its members and battle each other right along my trick-or-treating route.  Since I'm always the one to get hit in the head with stray basketballs and soccer balls and baseball bats, I always kind of feared for my life.

Never fell into that game where, as a rule, it seems that adolescent and 20-something girls take Halloween as an excuse to dress skankily.  Instead of striving for glances, I usually end up being something that I find super-ridiculous.  As a grown woman I've been a power ranger (wore the plus-sized kids costume), a spoon, The Snuggler, and Werewolf Bar-Mitzvah.  I may not have gotten any phone numbers, but I sure got some high fives of appreciation.  And that's way more meaningful.  Anyone can wear nothing and get stares, so who the hell really cares?  All hail the creative and the absurd!

I really like this time of year, but at the same time there's this weird kind of dark wistful feeling that comes with it.  After all the candy is eaten and you realize you're almost done with another year.  Things start to wind down, more layers are worn, the days all start late.  I can't really explain.  Walking around in the dark.  Wet leaves.  Holidays.  And then snow.  And then the thaw.  And then more snow.  The end of Holidays.  The clean-up.  Unpacking.  Overeating.  Over-heated offices.  Under-heated living rooms.  

Seasonal Affective Disorder happens for a reason.  I wonder how much poetry and music we'd be missing if it didn't exist.  Channel your inner darkness!  Maybe you'll win a Grammy!  Or be a poet laureate for some random small town!  You never know.