bands, booze, and a crazy french dude

I am the first to admit it, I am a groupie for a band with perhaps the worst band name ever... wait for it... Handful of Luvin'. And yes, I have now attended 4 shows that they have performed at. Honestly, they sound so much better live I haven't bought their CD's and who in their right mind would want a t-shirt that says "Handful of Luvin" on it? So I figure I support the band through cover charges (even though I didn't pay one last night), and simply showing up and bringing different friends every time. Like Friday night, I introduced KAL to their music (and the violinist with the broody eyes, which of course sets my heart a flutter). Little did I know what the night had in store for us.

We got to Fado early, had a couple beers and talked for a good hour. When the band started, we both listened to them play and watched the really amusing groupie-boys who were right up in front of the band, dancing like they were epileptics or swinging their arms off-beat. Overall, it was awesome. I was definitely buzzed from not having eaten a large dinner, and KAL was feeling it too.

Then I got a tap on my shoulder, and all hell broke loose.

Generally I refuse drinks offered to me at a bar because I'm too nice to not talk to the guy for a while, and then the situation gets awkward because I never feel comfortable talking to random guy who is buying me drinks to hopefully make out with me at some point that night.... but due to whatever reason, and the fact that KAL doesn't turn down drinks, we soon had two Mac'n'Jacks in front of us. The guy talks to us, with a strong accent that I soon recognize as French. We talk, and he seems cool enough... but there's always the "in town just for tonight" and the flirtatious touches that get me put on edge. Soon enough he's got his hands on my back, shoulders, whatnot and is trying to kiss my neck, cheek, etc... For whatever reason, I am cracking up at the situation, and rather than running immediately for the exit, which I normally would have done, I kinda put up with it. I try to brush him off so that I can listen to the band, but he is continually making a pull at me towards my lips.

Eventually, I'm tired of it to the point where I don't want to stick around to listen anymore, and Kirsten and I walk to the bathroom laughing, and out to the sidewalk to wait for the bus. Ten minutes later, after being cat-called from a cruising car with VERY shiny wheels, out walks my frenchman, cigarette in hand. KAL does a good job monopolizing the conversation for my sake, but he cannot be dissuaded from grabbing my face. Finally the bus comes, and I ride one stop the wrong direction just to finally get away from the guy who would have insisted on walking me to my bus stop had I not run away.

I get off the south-bound bus in Pioneer Square and have to walk the 3 blocks to my bus stop. I put on my "Fuck-off" vibe extra strong, and walk straight past a group of club-bound guys who whistle and "hey baby where ya going?" at me as I walk towards them, and mutter "Oh, so COLD..." as I walk off without even so much as looking up. I get a kick out of that too really... I'm all kinds of weird when it comes to the opposite sex. I find all these dating and mating rituals utterly disconcerting one day, and fabulously hilarious the next. I guess really I like being in a position of power, getting to be the rejector is far more fun than being rejected.

So overall, it was a hilarious night and much fun hanging out with a good buddy, while creating a fun story. Only one problem... I still didn't talk to broody-eyed violin boy. Who's up for concert #5? :P

transportation gods

Mode of Transportation
Originally uploaded by arirose

Somebody up there really hates me. All I want to do is bike to work and I am just not having any luck. First I got a cold the first week of June and sniffles + rainy biking = yucky yucky yucky. I got over the cold quicky because I didn't bike, but then the following Monday, I head out in my newly healthy state, and get a flat tire on the way home. Since it was the rear tire, it was too daunting to fix on the side of the road, so I waited and waited and waited for a bus. It came 20 minutes late. Little did I know what was to follow...

Fixing the tire seemed easy enough, until a brake pad fell off after trying to replace the wheel. Then the other break pad fell off. Then the tire wouldn't go in straight. Then I lost the nut for one side of the wheel for 2 hours, finding it improbably tucked into a part of the bike when I KNOW I had put it on the towel on the floor to not lose it. Then the breaks were still messed up and the tire uneven. Thursday night I got it all back in working order, only to go home to b-town for Father's day festivities.

Last night, in all the glorious sunshine that was about to fade, I left work late. I was dying for my bike, but I was heading home via bus due to my weekend bag still with me. Little did I know a fire had knocked out the electrical lines for the bus I normally take. After waiting almost 35 minutes, and missing two connecting busses, I finally had an alternate bus show up, grabbed it, and caught the long bus home. For a typically no-more-than 45 minute trip, it took an hour and 40 minutes.

So today, I'm not about to trust the busses. I head down to the bike cage and grab my bike to head out. Only, something feels wrong. I look down and the rear tire is flat. AGAIN. This time after I flip the bike over (and get coated in grease again) I discover a small piece of glass stuck in the tire. I had done a thorough once-over on the tire to check it after the previous flat, and there was nothing, or at least I didn't see anything. So after a few moments, I realize it's more trouble to fix the tire in a rush than to go upstairs, change and run to the bus. THEN as the bus is pulling up to the transfer point, I watch as my connecting bus pulls away from the sidewalk.

My god. What did I do to get this kind of Karma?

note on the state of things

Why on earth does it make me so mad that one cannot reserve a decent campground anywhere near Wenatchee/Lake Chelan on a weekend 3 weeks in advance? I really do have to plan these things out on an extended time scale... Or stop working on a regular, M-F, 9-5 schedule. I'd better get started on that trip I want to take in August! So much for winging it... I need to be on top of this summer before it passes me buy again.

...but exactly when will it begin?

looking for that thing deep down

So, more or less I'm taking option 3 while expecting option 1 to kick in anytime now, since I'm not sure what the hell direction option 3 is going to lead me in. What do I mean? Just that I'm going on with life as it is, in this somewhat stinky economy with very limited lab job postings (and my limited interest in another lab job) and meanwhile trying to figure out just what it is that I should be doing. Part of me is determined to see if being creative outside of work will be enough to allow me to function those 40 hours a week in a rather logical and dry career. I realize I need to get out of science at some point, but I need something stronger to stand on than a part time job a Starbucks or REI with regards to a potential new career.

But on the other hand, writing is just not happening. Sometimes I'll get a moment where I want to write something, but even writing for this blog is something I'll put off to no end... Hopefully a new endeavor will encourage me to write more (while being another thing on my 101 list to check off, now that I'm getting painfully behind!). Here goes:

So you'll have to promise not to laugh, but I'm starting in on visual journaling. It was very roundabout, but I found multiple blogs by rather talented and creative people in the course of a week (just around my birthday actually). Through these discoveries (and many, many minutes and which probably add up to hours spent watching youtube videos...) I landed on a blog where the author was about to start an online workshop. God knows I respond well to assignments and accountability... Plus, it was going to run during the 8 weeks that Vinh was out of town (and thus I'd actually have some time to myself, and I mean that in the nicest way possible Vinh... :)). So I threw caution to the wind, stopped at the art supply store, and stocked up on the various supplies needed to be non-verbally creative.

The first assignment was in regards to space: your general art space, the journal as space, journaling away from your usual locale, and in some ways, defining the spaces within the page. This page (above) is the first attempt, which turned out better than I'd expected. I'd forced myself to cover the pages in stream-of-consciousness writing, then some crayon doodles, then layering on paint (acrylics, using my new $.65 plastic palate knife... it's fun :)). After that I kinda ran out of ideas, even though the pages looked so pretty in an abstract kind of way. I made the butterflies out of cardstock and then put in the notebook paper scraps to create writing space (see, I can never get away from words...). The pictures were part of the "assignment" in which I determined my "in" journaling space, and my "out" journaling space. The "in" is basically my coffee table draped in an old XL t-shirt (freebie from an engineering fair...) and my Met bag with a large shoebox of supplies inside. To try to be brave, I took a small bag of supplies (mostly markers, crayons, glue, tape and collage scraps) to my favorite coffee shop, Herkimer, and stayed as long as I felt I could justify taking up their table. This page (at right), which had a red background already painted on it, turned into a bit of a complaint towards adulthood and the frustrations I'm feeling between what I want to do and what is feasible. I'm not sure I'm as happy with this page since I think I kept going too far with it, but I suppose for a second attempt, and in trying conditions, it's probably progress.

So there you go, something new to write about and to post pictures of. My 366 is being mended right now... but I'm almost caught up after having to do some patchwork and catch-up photos. Capturing days that are insanely boring while not repeating the same photo over and over is not very easy. Not easy at all.