laurenisms

Loren "Hot Sauce" Huggins’ last Seattle show with Chuckanut Drive (Day 14), originally uploaded by laurenipsum.

Loren is leaving the band to be a respectable grown-up, or whatever. I’ll miss him in the band.

Hot licks and stage kicks, originally uploaded by laurenipsum.

He does this thing where he kicks one leg in the air really high. It’s kind of impressive. I had a bad angle here but I got the timing I want — you can see the sole of his boot right there by his guitar.

Drums and bass, originally uploaded by laurenipsum.

I have been busy trying to get going with farm blog, and even more so, of course, with chores and work, and so neglecting this blog (again). But I have just started a new knitting project so I will be keeping notes on it here!

I have long meant to make the Ribby Cardi — it’s been on my list since I first started knitting; probably even since before I finished my first scarf. Then Megan made it and documented it very well, and I was inspired, though slow, obviously, to get started.

But I am going to Baltimore for the Usability Professionals Association conference, for work, and I needed something to bring. Most recently I have worked on a baby jacket in sock yarn, and a hat for Garth in sock yarn, so I wanted something that was not so fine, and Ribby Cardi was at the top of my Ravelry queue. So yesterday I picked up some Berroco Ultra Alpaca, which is a very soft worsted-weight that’s 50% alpaca and 50% Peruvian Highland wool (whatever that means). In black. I felt sad about choosing black because they had lots of gorgeous colors, but I couldn’t decide, and my black sweaters are starting to wear out, and I want this to be an easy project so that I will actually finish it, actually wear it, and actually have the morale to knit another sweater, ever.

Currently I am swatching and preparing to toss it in with the load of laundry I’m doing in preparation for packing. Taking a red-eye to Baltimore tomorrow night. Whee.

My sister was here this weekend and we went to see the Old 97s. The Showbox seems to have increased the number of all-ages shows they are putting on, which is fine because it means I can take her. They rocked, as always, and Rhett Miller is, also as always, extremely adorable. He doesn’t seem to have aged since the first time I saw him, which must have been 5-6 years ago. (Apparently I have written at least 3 posts about Rhett Miller and his hips. I also like the thing where he swings his arm around in a circle, most notably on “Barrier Reef.”) Anyway it was fun to take my sister, who had not been to a real show before, I don’t think. Good start.

In other news, I fell spectacularly all over the sidewalk on the Ave on Thursday. My walk to the bus consists of 2 blocks where I cannot see if there is a bus at my stop or not, and I am usually cutting it quite close, so I generally jog. This time I was thinking a bit too much about how silly I must have looked while jogging carrying my bags and coat and with my scarf swinging around, I guess, because I rolled my ankle pretty severely and went everywhere. My things stayed in my bags, and my bags stayed on me, but I think my shoulder bag did a full circle around my shoulder (like you always meant to do on the swing when you were small, but chickened out). My ankle is OK and walkable, though dramatic shades of purple; my other knee is skinned in two places, and very painful. This is, of course, awesome considering that I have to travel this way, and also attend a conference where I was planning to wear sandals and skirts. Classy.

Today it was sunny and beautiful, which I found pleasant even though it also meant it was cold. Had a nice day of outside-ness: Pike Place Market in the morning to get bread for dinner tonight and all kinds of veggies for Girls’ Night In on Wednesday. Then came home and suited up the dogs to go to the dog park, where we walked and enjoyed the sun — it was good for our moods, I think — and ran into Oscar’s old friend Emma (and her people). Now we are preparing to roast a chicken for dinner, dogs are too tired to move, and we have a good bottle of Spanish wine.

Also today I learned about molasses and Iceland. I learned that molasses is the same thing as treacle, which word Robin and I both associate very strongly with Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and I learned about the Boston Molasses Disaster, which is sad, of course, but also really funny. Then I learned about the Ring Road that goes all the way around Iceland and that you can bike around on. G. has been to Iceland (I am jealous) and thought I was silly for not having known about the ring road beforehand.

Last night was dinner out with my advisor from grad school, who makes beer and music and rides bikes, and his knittin’ wife. Then we went on without them to see Bobby Bare Jr. at the Sunset, which was far too crowded and at which there was almost a fight. But damn, that guy can rock hard with just an acoustic guitar. He’s covering “Sister Golden Hair,” which I really like, and I had a little epiphany listening to his version — the line is “I’ve been one poor correspondent,” not “I’ve been one more chorus partner.” Thanks, Bobby!

Wine glass is empty. Must resolve this situation immediately.

(song: “Summer Fall Winter Fall,” Slomo Rabbit Kick)

A few weeks ago, several of my favorite bands ever came out with new albums. So, mini reviews!

Neko Case, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood
This album reminds me a lot of Blacklisted, which I absolutely adore. I have listened to almost* nothing but Fox Confessor for the past week. My favorites are “Margaret vs. Pauline” (track 1), “Star Witness” (track 2), “A Widow’s Toast” (track 4), “John Saw That Number” (track 7), and “The Needle Has Landed” (track 12).

Eef Barzelay (of Clem Snide), Bitter Honey
I’ve listened to this one a few times, and I pretty much wish it were a Clem Snide album instead of a solo album. I love Eef, my long-lost brother, but Eef+guitar isn’t quite as snarky as Eef+whole band, and his lyrics are as snarky as normal, so it doesn’t quite match up.

Rhett Miller, The Believer
This album isn’t very good.
Can you believe I just said that about Rhett?
It’s just not very good. He needs the Old 97s. Especially Murry, the bassist. We saw Rhett live a few weeks ago and his bassist apparently had a crappy amp, or something; I don’t know what it was but he sounded terrible. It was really unpleasant. The songs from the album are better live than they are on the album, which isn’t saying much because they are kind of lifeless and flat on the album. And then he does that hip thing at the live show so everything is better.

*I have also listened to Paul Burch’s album Fool For Love. If Paul Burch and Neko had babies, they would make my head explode with the awesome singingness.

(song: “Star Witness,” Neko Case)

I am having a fight with this blog right now because I cannot figure out what to do to make comments work. I am sure that it’s something very small, and I think it has to do with passing parameters, but I can’t find exactly what it is. It’s making me very frustrated and cranky and not wanting to think about this site at all.

Last night I dreamed about Richmond Fontaine. They were renting a house in Astoria, just for a couple of weeks, and I walked past with someone who commented on a guitar that had been in the window. I asked what was special about that guitar, and whoever it was (I don’t remember; maybe Travis? but why was Travis a guitar nerd?) said “Well, Richmond Fontaine has one and they’ve said they are looking for another.” And I said “Then that means that either Richmond Fontaine is in that house, or someone who might want to sell their guitar to Richmond Fontaine is, so we should go see, in either case.” So we went in, and there was Willy and the rest of the band, and we said hi. They said to me “We saw you walk by with your sister earlier and do a double take when you saw us because you weren’t sure if it was us.” I had forgotten, apparently.
Then later were space aliens that were attacking people, and I had to shoot things and people and then G. was on the aliens’ side and he was going to shoot me so I had to shoot him, but he didn’t die right away, but the wolves were coming so I had to stand there and wait for him to die so that the wolves wouldn’t eat him while he was still alive. I didn’t like that dream.

(song: “Somewhere Near,” Richmond Fontaine)

i observed may day eve with only half as much debauchery as it deserves; there was drinking and loud music and dancing (well, head-bobbing) but no sex in the fields and no fires. which is best, considering.
i ended up selling out bobby’s tshirts, except the one small men’s that was left, which he gave me in exchange for accidentally running his merch table for him. he called me “princess” and told me about his wife and his baby, isabella. they call her “belly bare,” and he sticks out his stomach and rubs it when he says her name.
overdramatization in my last post; i don’t want to Be A Writer, but i want to write things i don’t hate. i don’t know what that would look like, though. i’ve never done it.

(song: “reno,” chuckanut drive)

when i was a kid i wanted to grow up to be an artist. i made my parents get me watercolors and palettes and pastels and nice paper; i dressed up as an artist for future career day during spirit week in 8th grade. i don’t even know what that means — i think i wore a beret and some jeans with holes in them. who knows.
shortly after that, though, i realized i’m not meant to be an artist: i frustrate too quickly, i’m not patient, i don’t trust myself, i can’t properly translate what i see or feel. i was heartbroken for a while and then i got over it, but the inability to create is still one of the major things i wish i could change about myself.
knitting was good for me to discover because it is impermanent yet it allows me to play with color and texture and shape as well as my limits. but lately what i want to do is write. not write great fiction or anything, just produce something i don’t hate.
everything i have read recommends writing daily, so i am going to try it. i am going to try to take notes when i think of interesting things — though i think for starters it’ll be seeing interesting things rather than thinking them up myself — and i am going to try to write about them in a way that i like.
what this means in practice is probably that i will post less frequently, though, because i will not want anyone to see it at first. so if i disappear that’s why. but maybe sometimes i’ll like things i write!
pfft.

***

seattleites, there is a very exciting show this weekend: my boyfriend bobby bare jr., with richmond fontaine from portland and chuckanut drive, 2/5 from here and 3/5 from bellingham. all of these bands rock seriously a lot and i’m really looking forward to the show. get tickets early as bbj shows usually sell out!

***

oh, the other good thing about writing is that it’s free. this is nice because i’m super broke. can only go to the show because of being on the guest list; tomorrow i get to go to the grocery store and am only allowed to buy dried beans, bulk rice, eggs, and whichever are the cheapest tortillas. at least i’ll be a semi-nutritioned (??) broke person.

(song: “the king of carrot flowers, part one,” neutral milk hotel)

maybe the reason i’ve been in a bad mood lately is that i haven’t been listening to enough old 97s.

(song: “indefinitely,” old 97s)

a list of mostly unrelated things.

it is a hot chocolate and august & everything after sort of day. i wish i could be home on the couch in pajamas watching the food network but alas, i am stuck on campus for work and class until 7:30.

i like to watch people on the bus and see what they are reading or knitting. this morning there was a confused-looking boy with messy hair reading kavalier and clay, which i really need to read; there was a girl reading about a boy - she will have to stop reading it on the bus soon as she is almost to the end and crying on the bus is no fun; the boy next to me was reading the liner notes to nigeria 70: the definitive story of 1970s funky lagos. and the girl with adorable shoes and an 80s-style high-necked overcoat was knitting a basketweave scarf almost just like the red one i made last winter, except grey, and it was taking her a really long time.

i am going to portland for thanksgiving but not for very long. have to come back on saturday to see my girlfriend neko. but i will get to see my sister and my mom and the stelladog. it will be fun!

(song: “anna begins,” counting crows. i like songs that talk about grey things.)