June 2009 Archives
I have hit a dry spell on here because I spend all my time with Ladyfest planning or at band practice or writing songs.
I am going to start documenting things with my band HERE. Because this is something that I have wanted for so, so long, and I will want to remember, and I need some sort of motivation to write it down; and because really, I don't need another blog. (Speaking of, Cory and I are collaborating on a new internet endeavor, an infrequently-updated lesbian fashion blog.)
We recorded demos a few months ago, and have the mixes back now. We played for the homos a few weeks ago at Pride Prom, which was weird and fun. We played at the Rogue, before that, which was weirder.
Now we are getting more shows and I am trying to book a West Coast tour for us- late August, down to LA and back. I've been picking friends' brains, asking about venues and cities and houses and van rentals and stories.
The most important things I've learned: don't play Eugene. Good luck getting a show in Portland. Get AAA. Make a gear check-off list for load-in/load-out.
I cannot wait to tour. I always thought I couldn't deal with it- long long drives with only a few other people, shitty food, limited showers, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, maybe crabs. Then I started to get jealous of all the bands who have played at our house, making tour stops and new friends and traveling as one unit and always falling asleep so early after the show.
There are amazing places out there! Like Arcata's Green House (does every city have a Green House and a Hell House?), which makes me so so sad that sweet Friendship City will be going belly-up in only a few months: I am my happiest when there are bands playing in my living room. I stand around with a big dumb grin on my face, grab heavy objects to hold kickdrums in place, empty my wallet for their hard work.
These messy punk shows in awkward spaces bring me such insane quantities of joy; it is my dearest wish that I can karmically return some of that joy by playing music myself. Creator, not just consumer, participant in the making.
Relatedly, Alison and I made a pact the other day: in five years, we will be published. She, for graphic novels or children's books or high fantasy or whatever the fuck she gets around to finishing, but no backing out- something published, somewhere, by June 16, 2014. And me, music writer, legit. Will do. Have to. We swore on our pinkies but not our mother's graves.
LET'S MAKE IT HAPPEN.
I am going to start documenting things with my band HERE. Because this is something that I have wanted for so, so long, and I will want to remember, and I need some sort of motivation to write it down; and because really, I don't need another blog. (Speaking of, Cory and I are collaborating on a new internet endeavor, an infrequently-updated lesbian fashion blog.)
We recorded demos a few months ago, and have the mixes back now. We played for the homos a few weeks ago at Pride Prom, which was weird and fun. We played at the Rogue, before that, which was weirder.
Now we are getting more shows and I am trying to book a West Coast tour for us- late August, down to LA and back. I've been picking friends' brains, asking about venues and cities and houses and van rentals and stories.
The most important things I've learned: don't play Eugene. Good luck getting a show in Portland. Get AAA. Make a gear check-off list for load-in/load-out.
I cannot wait to tour. I always thought I couldn't deal with it- long long drives with only a few other people, shitty food, limited showers, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, maybe crabs. Then I started to get jealous of all the bands who have played at our house, making tour stops and new friends and traveling as one unit and always falling asleep so early after the show.
There are amazing places out there! Like Arcata's Green House (does every city have a Green House and a Hell House?), which makes me so so sad that sweet Friendship City will be going belly-up in only a few months: I am my happiest when there are bands playing in my living room. I stand around with a big dumb grin on my face, grab heavy objects to hold kickdrums in place, empty my wallet for their hard work.
These messy punk shows in awkward spaces bring me such insane quantities of joy; it is my dearest wish that I can karmically return some of that joy by playing music myself. Creator, not just consumer, participant in the making.
Relatedly, Alison and I made a pact the other day: in five years, we will be published. She, for graphic novels or children's books or high fantasy or whatever the fuck she gets around to finishing, but no backing out- something published, somewhere, by June 16, 2014. And me, music writer, legit. Will do. Have to. We swore on our pinkies but not our mother's graves.
LET'S MAKE IT HAPPEN.
Some construction dudes came over to work on the foundation of our house. THE JOKE'S ON THEM- we don't have a foundation!
Anyway, I noticed that we have hardly any water pressure and that there is a gushing sound outside the backdoor, so I went to investigate.
Our house is now sitting on top of a waterfall!
The construction dudes are sitting in the grass by the fire hydrant on the street, just hanging out and looking at their wrenches and chatting. And sometimes running to the backyard to do stuff.
Aside from taking a quick out the backdoor, Sam and I are feigning obliviousness and he is playing Ninja Gaiden and I am hanging out with some books. "It's pretty cool having a moat at our house," Sam pointed out. But the dudes just asked if we knew where the water main is (we don't), which doesn't seem like a good sign.
AND JUST LAST NIGHT WE WATCHED "WATERWORLD"! Coincidence? Probably not.
Anyway, I noticed that we have hardly any water pressure and that there is a gushing sound outside the backdoor, so I went to investigate.
Our house is now sitting on top of a waterfall!
The construction dudes are sitting in the grass by the fire hydrant on the street, just hanging out and looking at their wrenches and chatting. And sometimes running to the backyard to do stuff.
Aside from taking a quick out the backdoor, Sam and I are feigning obliviousness and he is playing Ninja Gaiden and I am hanging out with some books. "It's pretty cool having a moat at our house," Sam pointed out. But the dudes just asked if we knew where the water main is (we don't), which doesn't seem like a good sign.
AND JUST LAST NIGHT WE WATCHED "WATERWORLD"! Coincidence? Probably not.
