April 2009 Archives
Evenings in late spring when I was a kid. Folks would come over, my dad would start up the barbecue, I'd go wandering down the road, find some flowers growing next to the creeks in the ditches, swat mosquitoes, eat some huckleberries.
This is all I can think about when I listen to WITCHES, and to them I have been listening over & over. This year, my spring is all full of groundwork and no huckleberries, and every other band I find is either on Plan-It-X and/or has recorded on the Pink Couch; but Cara Beth Satalino gives me chills, like finding Smashing Pumpkins on the fm dial in 5th grade. Like Jason Molina and Chan Marshall before she turned model. Like June dusk.
This is all I can think about when I listen to WITCHES, and to them I have been listening over & over. This year, my spring is all full of groundwork and no huckleberries, and every other band I find is either on Plan-It-X and/or has recorded on the Pink Couch; but Cara Beth Satalino gives me chills, like finding Smashing Pumpkins on the fm dial in 5th grade. Like Jason Molina and Chan Marshall before she turned model. Like June dusk.
Everything Jane Lynch touches turns to gold. Although I will persist in referring to her as "Joyce Wischnia," because I can never remember her real name.
Miss CA's "opposite marriage" was kind of fantastic, but "National Organization for Man Lady Marriage" does it one better.
Thank you, famous gay people, for being making internet videos that I can watch when I am sick at home and wondering how to spend my afternoon.
Miss CA's "opposite marriage" was kind of fantastic, but "National Organization for Man Lady Marriage" does it one better.
Thank you, famous gay people, for being making internet videos that I can watch when I am sick at home and wondering how to spend my afternoon.
I have no voice and it makes me sounds a little bit like Julie Doiron. Cory said I should record songs and capitalize on the sexy rasp of a lifetime smoker. Instead of talking, Roommate and I have sat on the couch, side by side, all evening, talking on facebook chat in lieu of actual speech and eating all of my remaining Hall's Fruit Breezers.
THIS IS FRIENDSHIP.
THIS IS ALSO THE FUTURE.
We need Nyquil sooooo bad.
THIS IS FRIENDSHIP.
THIS IS ALSO THE FUTURE.
We need Nyquil sooooo bad.
A. "She's the dream the early feminists had, interdisciplinary, fearless, and fighting with love."
B. The surface narrative, which the performers will speak live, is the story of a sister (played by me), visiting her sister after a long period of not seeing her. The sister that's being visited, the napping sister, was really punk growing up, radical, on the edge, underground. And she was a poet. The sister who's coming to visit had always mimicked her life. So she goes and visits her sister, who's taking a nap. She's looking around the apartment and begins to notice all these elements of comfort--pillows on furniture, pillows to the ceiling, jars and jars of jam--that her sister never had before. And she interprets this new comfort as a sign that something has changed. She starts to see what's in her sister's world that didn't used to be. And she looks for what isn't there that did use to be there. What has this comfort replaced? The napping sister was a poet and was always writing. On napkins, newspapers, envelopes, clothes, everything. There were pens everywhere. Now the visiting sister (me) can't find a pen anywhere. Or any writing.
C. That said, Greenwood's piece turns over the question of feminist engagement, a young woman struggling with her older sister's evolution from radicalism to apathy (no pens, plenty of pillows). If the slumbering sister represents a potentially necessary choice, where does that leave feminism?
B. The surface narrative, which the performers will speak live, is the story of a sister (played by me), visiting her sister after a long period of not seeing her. The sister that's being visited, the napping sister, was really punk growing up, radical, on the edge, underground. And she was a poet. The sister who's coming to visit had always mimicked her life. So she goes and visits her sister, who's taking a nap. She's looking around the apartment and begins to notice all these elements of comfort--pillows on furniture, pillows to the ceiling, jars and jars of jam--that her sister never had before. And she interprets this new comfort as a sign that something has changed. She starts to see what's in her sister's world that didn't used to be. And she looks for what isn't there that did use to be there. What has this comfort replaced? The napping sister was a poet and was always writing. On napkins, newspapers, envelopes, clothes, everything. There were pens everywhere. Now the visiting sister (me) can't find a pen anywhere. Or any writing.
C. That said, Greenwood's piece turns over the question of feminist engagement, a young woman struggling with her older sister's evolution from radicalism to apathy (no pens, plenty of pillows). If the slumbering sister represents a potentially necessary choice, where does that leave feminism?
"Cynicism is no wisdom. It's a lazy way to say that you've been burned."Theo Zumm makes me remember why I fell in love with Conor Oberst when I was 17. But let the unflattering analogies implied by that statement end there, because Athens is still a powerhouse and Omaha burned out. And if Bright Eyes stayed inside to wallow in that frozen apartment, Nana Grizol grabbed shovels and seed packets and went outside to plant a vegetable garden.
Since I am on a how-to kick, here is a recipe.
This is the most important recipe I own.
It is my grandma's pie-crust recipe.
Flakiest-of-flaky pie crusts, much sought after and rarely achieved- I have experimented with so many recipes for crusts, trying to get the perfect mix of shortening and butter, flour and water. Trying to make crusts as good as my grandma's. And now I have her recipe, joining the many many "Never Fail Pie Crust" recipes on the internet ... but the other "never fail" recipes do not cut the mustard, and truly, this is the only pie crust recipe you will ever need. Accept no substitutes.
NEVER FAIL FLAKY PIE CRUST
from Grandmother Dolores
Makes one 2-crust pie
3 cups all-purpose flour
1½ cups shortening
1 teaspoon salt
Mix and cut together. Add:
1 small egg
1 teaspoon vinegar
5 tablespoon water
Mix and chill in wax paper.
AND THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW. Like all of my grandma's recipes, this one is spartan and to-the-point; unlike most of her recipes, this one actually has exact quantities and complete directions.
I am making some tarts this weekend with my little sister that we will serve at family Easter brunch and they will probably use this crust and look a lot like this.
This is the most important recipe I own.
It is my grandma's pie-crust recipe.
Flakiest-of-flaky pie crusts, much sought after and rarely achieved- I have experimented with so many recipes for crusts, trying to get the perfect mix of shortening and butter, flour and water. Trying to make crusts as good as my grandma's. And now I have her recipe, joining the many many "Never Fail Pie Crust" recipes on the internet ... but the other "never fail" recipes do not cut the mustard, and truly, this is the only pie crust recipe you will ever need. Accept no substitutes.
NEVER FAIL FLAKY PIE CRUST
from Grandmother Dolores
Makes one 2-crust pie
3 cups all-purpose flour
1½ cups shortening
1 teaspoon salt
Mix and cut together. Add:
1 small egg
1 teaspoon vinegar
5 tablespoon water
Mix and chill in wax paper.
AND THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW. Like all of my grandma's recipes, this one is spartan and to-the-point; unlike most of her recipes, this one actually has exact quantities and complete directions.
I am making some tarts this weekend with my little sister that we will serve at family Easter brunch and they will probably use this crust and look a lot like this.
I painted my bass today.
Before, it was ugly. It looked pretty much like this:
This is the bass I got in 9th grade. It has always been ugly. I dream of Danelectros, but new basses aren't cheap. Instead, I bought some spray paint and got to work on my maligned old Yamaha.
What follows is a how-to-repaint your guitar for people like me who:
A. don't know much about painting and hardware stores
B. don't know much about the hardware on guitars
C. have a shitty guitar they don't care about
It was easier than all of the how-to websites made it sound, but time-consuming because I am a perfectionist. Here is what you do.
1. Wait for a clear day. You'll be using some fumy chemicals, so do this outside.
2. Go to the hardware store. You will need sandpaper (I used 320 grit), paint thinner, spray paint, a clear finish or furniture wax, and painter's tape. You can probably get all of this for around $30.
3. Take the strings off of your guitar. Wet a rag with paint thinner (aka "mineral spirits") and wipe down the body of your guitar, to remove grease, dirt, etc. Let it dry.
4. When it is dry, rub the body of the guitar lightly with the sandpaper. You don't want to rub it hard- just enough to scuff it, to break the finish and give the paint something to adhere to. Once you have done this, wipe all the dust off with a damp rag and again, wait for it to dry completely.
5. Remove as much of the hardware as you feel like (I took off the plate on the back that leads to the knobs, but I left everything else on because I didn't want to fuck things up). Cover up whatever you don't take off- this is where it gets time-consuming. I carefully masked the corners and edges of the bass neck, and volume and tone knobs, everything, and it took a good hour of tearing and applying tape.
6. Paint it! Do multiple light layers, so you don't get drips. Let it dry between coats! I got impatient, and now mine looks a little crappy.
7. Once everything is dry, finish it so it won't get scuffed as easily- spray finish stuff or use furniture wax.
That is all! My bass still has that old man jazz-bass shape, but at least it is robin's egg blue now and not ugly wood finish.
(photo taken with my computer, so the color is a little off, but pretty close)
Before, it was ugly. It looked pretty much like this:
This is the bass I got in 9th grade. It has always been ugly. I dream of Danelectros, but new basses aren't cheap. Instead, I bought some spray paint and got to work on my maligned old Yamaha.What follows is a how-to-repaint your guitar for people like me who:
A. don't know much about painting and hardware stores
B. don't know much about the hardware on guitars
C. have a shitty guitar they don't care about
It was easier than all of the how-to websites made it sound, but time-consuming because I am a perfectionist. Here is what you do.
1. Wait for a clear day. You'll be using some fumy chemicals, so do this outside.
2. Go to the hardware store. You will need sandpaper (I used 320 grit), paint thinner, spray paint, a clear finish or furniture wax, and painter's tape. You can probably get all of this for around $30.
3. Take the strings off of your guitar. Wet a rag with paint thinner (aka "mineral spirits") and wipe down the body of your guitar, to remove grease, dirt, etc. Let it dry.
4. When it is dry, rub the body of the guitar lightly with the sandpaper. You don't want to rub it hard- just enough to scuff it, to break the finish and give the paint something to adhere to. Once you have done this, wipe all the dust off with a damp rag and again, wait for it to dry completely.
5. Remove as much of the hardware as you feel like (I took off the plate on the back that leads to the knobs, but I left everything else on because I didn't want to fuck things up). Cover up whatever you don't take off- this is where it gets time-consuming. I carefully masked the corners and edges of the bass neck, and volume and tone knobs, everything, and it took a good hour of tearing and applying tape.
6. Paint it! Do multiple light layers, so you don't get drips. Let it dry between coats! I got impatient, and now mine looks a little crappy.
7. Once everything is dry, finish it so it won't get scuffed as easily- spray finish stuff or use furniture wax.
That is all! My bass still has that old man jazz-bass shape, but at least it is robin's egg blue now and not ugly wood finish.
(photo taken with my computer, so the color is a little off, but pretty close)
Last night I dreamed of womyn's land. We all ran off to separatist colonies in the hills and used laser guns to defend ourselves against attacking homophobes.
Apparently feminist utopia looks a lot like The Battle for Endor?
Apparently feminist utopia looks a lot like The Battle for Endor?
Old story: People grow up, even artists. The Mirah of the new album (a)spera is not the Mirah of 2004's C'mon Miracle or 2002's Advisory Committee or 2000's You Think It's Like This but Really It's Like This or any of the many singles, compilations, collaborations, or live recordings released in between. You can't step in the same river twice, but you can remember and enshrine the past, sometimes at the expense of the present.Eric Grandy has gotten to do that unusual thing, a music critic getting to review one of their favorites. Even rarer, he does it justice, in an elegantly-constructed piece of music criticism that hits all of the nails on the head. If you are a Mirah fan of the deep and/or old-school variety who is so far failing, like me, to fall head-over-heels with the new album, then this is a must-read.
Yesterday, my bandmates and I journeyed to Seattle to make a pilgrimage to H&M. What place could be better for finding mod-ish suits is small-ish sizes at cheap-ish prices?
Two H&M locations later (also: Nordstrom's, the Gap, Club Monaco, Barney's [??]), Express, and Value Village), still no luck. In fact, a wild goose chase.
Nordstrom's men's apparel sent us to boy's apparel, where we found $300 jackets. From Nordstrom's to Gap, where a helpful kid told us that he finds his skinny-legged suits in the women's section at Express and the Limited.
At Express, the women's blazers were cropped short for hips and chest; the men's jackets were not in sizes smaller than 36.
In the dressing rooms, the boy who unlocked a room for me asked through the door,
"Um, are you guys all lesbians? Because if you are, you are, like, the trendiest lesbians I've ever seen."
It was really nice to be read as "trendy" instead of "fucking skeezy and clearly not going to buy anything," which was how we felt everywhere else.
One lesbian can be invisible.
Two is a couple, isn't that cute.
Three? You can miss us or misread us. Three demands acknowledgment.
And we stood out wherever we went, three lezbotrons in boy's clothes asking about size 32 suits and getting sideways glances from everyone except two sympathetic gay kids in retail.
In Barney's, we acted like it was no big deal for us to be looking at $3000 jackets. A salesman slid up, sweating profusely, with a giant ring on his finger, and showed us the jackets that "lots of rockstars are wearing these days," and a size 0 fit me perfectly. It also cost the equivalent of one year's undergraduate tuition at a public in-state university.
He told us what we were afraid of: there are no suits for less than a couple grand that will fit bodies like ours.
So now back to the drawing board: assemble our own suits out of found bits and pieces. Take up suit design and make our own. Stumble upon money and with it hire a tailor or buy a Band of Outsiders jacket.
CALLING ALL DYKES OF THE WORLD for an international lesbionic apparel poll: where do you find a fucking suit? We are not the first queers in our generation- and not the first generation of queers- to desire men's suits. Invoking the ghost of Radclyffe Hall and drag kings throughout the universe, where is the line of men's suits designed for women's bodies?
EDIT: Today Sarah walked into Good Will and there was a navy suit. In her size exactly. And then Claire went to Target and found a gray one in the little boy's section, which I had somehow completely missed. And now I am the only one who is suit-less, racked with jealousy as they show off their suspenders and tip their fedoras at me.
Two H&M locations later (also: Nordstrom's, the Gap, Club Monaco, Barney's [??]), Express, and Value Village), still no luck. In fact, a wild goose chase.
Nordstrom's men's apparel sent us to boy's apparel, where we found $300 jackets. From Nordstrom's to Gap, where a helpful kid told us that he finds his skinny-legged suits in the women's section at Express and the Limited.
At Express, the women's blazers were cropped short for hips and chest; the men's jackets were not in sizes smaller than 36.
In the dressing rooms, the boy who unlocked a room for me asked through the door,
"Um, are you guys all lesbians? Because if you are, you are, like, the trendiest lesbians I've ever seen."
It was really nice to be read as "trendy" instead of "fucking skeezy and clearly not going to buy anything," which was how we felt everywhere else.
One lesbian can be invisible.
Two is a couple, isn't that cute.
Three? You can miss us or misread us. Three demands acknowledgment.
And we stood out wherever we went, three lezbotrons in boy's clothes asking about size 32 suits and getting sideways glances from everyone except two sympathetic gay kids in retail.
In Barney's, we acted like it was no big deal for us to be looking at $3000 jackets. A salesman slid up, sweating profusely, with a giant ring on his finger, and showed us the jackets that "lots of rockstars are wearing these days," and a size 0 fit me perfectly. It also cost the equivalent of one year's undergraduate tuition at a public in-state university.
He told us what we were afraid of: there are no suits for less than a couple grand that will fit bodies like ours.
So now back to the drawing board: assemble our own suits out of found bits and pieces. Take up suit design and make our own. Stumble upon money and with it hire a tailor or buy a Band of Outsiders jacket.
CALLING ALL DYKES OF THE WORLD for an international lesbionic apparel poll: where do you find a fucking suit? We are not the first queers in our generation- and not the first generation of queers- to desire men's suits. Invoking the ghost of Radclyffe Hall and drag kings throughout the universe, where is the line of men's suits designed for women's bodies?
EDIT: Today Sarah walked into Good Will and there was a navy suit. In her size exactly. And then Claire went to Target and found a gray one in the little boy's section, which I had somehow completely missed. And now I am the only one who is suit-less, racked with jealousy as they show off their suspenders and tip their fedoras at me.
