(November 25, 1920 – January 14, 2009)

All the old school trekkers are dying lately....

I can't stop listening to the sound track to Dr. Horrible's Sing-A-Long-Blog. Seriously creating fantasies of a Nathan Fillion, Neil Patrick Harris with a Lisa in the middle sandwich.


I would settle for just Nathan Fillion tho.

This is what that would look like:



Except I wouldn't have such sausages for arms.


You know what, while I'm at it, I sorta had to see how me and David Boreanaz would look getting all squishy faced too.



Yea, that's what I'm talking about.

I'm planning out my next tattoos.

Ok, so these are the options so far.

1. (I've been thinking about this one for awhile.) Chest piece, traditional style but I want the U.S.S. Enterprise and a Bird Of Prey to replace the swallows.

2. Orion Slave Girl in a pin-up girl pose. Unsure of location. Arm?

3. Shooting stars, probably on my side, with a banner that says "I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop". Which is a Kerouac quote from On The Road and kind of fitting. For me.

4. Nautical stars on the back of my legs.

Oh, and I should probably get my sleeve finished.

I've got stuff to say and I don't know how to say it.

 

I have a bunch of pictures I took while in DC/RVA over the weekend. As soon as I stop being lazy, I'll post em.

Oh and an update on what's been shakin'* too.


*my butt.

Holy. Shit.

I need to get this to D-Ray.

I went to The Church last night to see Jonah (from Far and Onelinedrawing) play. Those of you who have known me long enough, or have been reading this journal know that back in my early twenties, I was obsessed with him. Every time he'd come to Virginia, didn't matter where he was, I'd be there. I'd walk away from his shows feeling higher than I ever have. It's not even that he's good. I mean, he is good, but his music, it hits a part of me that over the years I've convinced myself isn't cool. Convinced myself that it's not ok to show the soft sides. Last night, I found myself sitting there with this uber grin on my face and singing along to everything he played. I felt young again. I felt all those things I felt back before my skin got too hard. It felt good. We talked for a little bit after the first set. (It was funny. The first set, he caught my eye and recognized me, even though it had been years.) Told him what's been going on lately and he gave me quite possibly the best hug I've ever recieved from anyone. He gave me his email and I wrote him this morning.

It kind of feels good to feel a little bit cheesey.



Hey Jonah,

Just wanted to write while this was still fresh in my head. It was truly wonderful to see you play again last night after so many years. I've been such an open wound lately with all the break up stuff and last night was a piece of the bandage I've started to apply.

See, the thing is, without trying to sound all weird and awkward, you were my first music crush. I remember going to see you play all those times in Virginia and walking away from it each time feeling completely high and giddy. I've had other crushes since (I saw Tom Waits a few months ago in TN and had trouble wiping the smile from my face the entire time) but you have always been, in some way, real. I thank you for that. I think when I first saw you play I was 20? 21? Back then I believed in all the gooshy. I wrote love letters to boys, felt heart thumps, and still believed in fairy tales. Years have gone by now. I've been through a marriage and a divorce. I've fallen in and out of love and confused infatuation with love more times than I can count. Then all this shit with the alcoholic happens. And it's a thing that shouldn't happen to someone like me. I'm stronger than that right? I thought so anyway. Suddenly I realize I'm jaded. I start to worry that the magic will never happen again. I worry that I'm covered in too many emotional scars and that everyone can see them sticking up out of my skin like light bright pieces. I worry that I will never feel the way I felt when I was younger ever ever again and it makes me sad. A deep down sad. A sadness you just learn to accept because it's always going to be there. My ex husband told me once the reason he married me was because "we made a good team". I thought that was a horribly unromantic explanation for partnership and I never wanted that to be the reason I got together with anyone. A couple years later, it was. I heard the same words that came out of my husband's mouth back then, come out of my own.

Big giant, What the fuck? You know?

The truth is, I believe in that. I believe in logic and partnership. I believe that when we get older, things change and love is, well, heavier than it was when we are young. That said, there's still a part of me that wants to find that love and wrap myself up in it. Roll around in it until the whole world sparkles again and I'm short of breath.

Watching you play at The Church last night, you gave me a bit of that hope back. Reminded me of what I felt like back then and that it's ok to hold onto that even though years have gone by. You drew out that young girl who was all bright eyed and singing along. She still exists! It was good to find that part of me again. When I said I thought I was too grown up, I meant I thought I'd given up on that hope. When I said you're still good, I meant you still had me smiling through the entire show. When I was leaving and said thank you, I needed this, I really really really did.

Take care of yourself and know your art has a huge effect. I'll see you the next time you come around!

Hugs,
Lisa

Ryan and I went to North Star Bar last night to see Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby. It was really really fun and they are two of the nicest people I've met. Eric was hanging out in the bar before the show and I got to talk to him for a bit and he signed one of my 7". I told him for being so punk rock, he's really just a big geek. It was definitely a good time. New album is surprisingly really good too. I'm going to hunt down more of Amy's stuff in the near future because I really dug her songs too.

When he sang Whole Wide World, he threw my name into it even. Which was pretty awesome. :)

Amy Rigby & Wreckless Eric


Autograph and the pick he used:

human_ephemera told me the absolute best thing about Philadelphia while hanging out this weekend.

Apparently there's a homeless dude near the art museum with a battery operated radio. Slip him a few dollars and he'll follow you up the stairs while playing the theme to Rocky.

Yes. I will be determining the validity of this claim soonish.

I am probably way more excited about this show tomorrow than my hipster inclinations should allow me to be.


The last time I saw them was 1997 and it was the ONLY reason I bought tickets to Lollapalooza.

New post @ Reviving The RPMs

Check it out. We went to see The Magic Christian Friday night (Cyril Jordan of The Flamin' Groovies + some others you might know.)

I am unbelievably excited about this tonight:



Like, really.

I've made no secret of the fact that I hate using public restrooms. The reason for this is the notorious bowl fart. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. You sit down to pee, relax just a little too much and a fart echoes off the inside of the toilet bowl. The thing is, when other people do it, I sit in my stall and giggle like a 12 year old. I am unable to take the same humiliation in return. If perchance I do offend, I will sit in there until everyone leaves in hopes that my identity will not be discovered.

Lately I've taken to texting Bri while in the midst of this predicament.

I'd like to share today's adventure with the rest of you. (Because she didn't get it.)

Me: Once again we find our heroine trapped in the ladies room trying desperately not to bowl fart.

Bri: Oh no! What will she do? Can I have choices like those adventure books from when we were kids?

Me: To the NORTH there is a CLOSED door. To the EAST there is a wall. To the WEST there is another wall. To the SOUTH is a tunnel.

Bri: Take the SOUTH tunnel.

Me: You have been eaten by a grue.

Don't come any closer, don't come any nearer...

(This is the reason I love youtube)

Rockpile - Girls Talk

Dave Edmunds - Queen Of Hearts

Love Sculpture - Farandole

pri being adorable

It seems in the real world lemon tomatoes do not really exist...

Have been amusing myself for the past hour by watching Jethro Tull videos on YouTube.



Good lord Ian Anderson, your pants are right tight.

(I need to get out of the house.)

I don't know if I'm excited about this or if it's destroying something sacred.



Probably both.

For anyone that's ever been to my house and met my boy-cat, this is pretty spot on.

Ok so my brain hasn't slowed down enough to recap the Tom Waits show but that's mostly cuz this will be bulletting towards Philadelphia tomorrow morning stuffed with all of my prized possessions junk.