Can't Wait to Wake Up
from this nightmare that I've created in my head. This psychosomatic depression-sickness syndrome syndrome. Two close friends have pointed out that cities are the land of syndromes, because people with too much time on their hands to pity or analyze themselves often conclude that their anxiety and unsatisfying life can be blamed on some kind of mental or physical illness, or a toxic environment. I could go on and on about how I imagine that I have Multiple Sclerosis, pneumonia, bipolar disorder, back problems or poor circulation, and how some of it might be due to non organic foods and the gross water that not only pours out of our sink faucet but Oh No! Pours all over me in the shower. But deep down I know that I have been lazy and let myself go, and as always it will take me two weeks to get back in shape for the next boat job, and for the entire time there I will not even think about these silly things. What a relief. I will say it again - I don't know anyone who relates more to the first paragraph of Moby Dick more than I.
I just realized than I haven't posted many pictures lately. Oh wait I should plug in my camera before I finish this post....brb
I just realized than I haven't posted many pictures lately. Oh wait I should plug in my camera before I finish this post....brb
Garlic Brownies
The weather this week has been the worst kind that Seattle regularly has to offer. Cold and rainy. Not a light drizzle that freshens your skin. Not a crisp morning where you feel revived. It's more like I walk 20 feet and my ears freeze up enough to give me a headache, and the dark gray sky keeps pissing on me just enough to warrant umbrella usage. My umbrella gave up the ghost a few weeks ago during a walk downtown.
I've been in a bad mood for hours. I think it started when I was walking up the steps to Pike Place from the waterfront and realized just how out of shape I am. Plus I didn't take a shower today and that worsens my mood. Oh plus my skin looks worse than ever. Really looking forward to that Michigan tan. Ha!
Hanging out with friends who are ambitious, fun, talkative and intelligent is inspiring when I'm in a good mood. When I'm not in a good mood my thoughts veer towards my comparative shortcomings instead. Luckily I can ignore those thoughts or analyze them later and still have a pretty enjoy my company. I thought this would be impossible when I walked in on an office party being held at the J&M Cafe with all of Jarad's new coworkers - mostly semi-yuppies in their 20's. But fortunately he was seated next to what turned out to be probably the most interesting folks in the group. Seated to my left was a petite blond lawyer, about 40 years old, who was a native of Iceland. Later I learned that she used to go to school with the drummer from Sugarcubes, that her brother partied often with Bjork, and that she loved Sigur Ros. Across from her was another woman about the same age, American, who sailed on a 50' Swan from Monte Carlo to Newport Beach, CA via the Panama Canal around 15 years ago. She used to be a massage therapist in LA but her wrists and hands crapped out on her. She now works in this large accounting firm and lives in Wallingford. So yeah, a few interesting folks, including Jarad's officemate who is apparently a member of a secret goth club on Capital Hill that we can't go to because we would have to be invited. LoL. All this entertainment including free drinks and appetizers. Can't beat that.
It took us forever to get home by bus, and of course the one we finally board seems to be full of all the underworld folks from Total Recall. Later my sister came over and we all watched "Mean Girls." I made what should have been wonderful brownies, complete with caramel topping, nuts and chocolate chips. The most special ingredient was the garlic flavored olive oil that I used, instead of the canola oil. BRILLIANT. We still can't get the taste out of our mouths. And that was from one bite.
I'm really tired and I need a shower... and a better attitude!
I've been in a bad mood for hours. I think it started when I was walking up the steps to Pike Place from the waterfront and realized just how out of shape I am. Plus I didn't take a shower today and that worsens my mood. Oh plus my skin looks worse than ever. Really looking forward to that Michigan tan. Ha!
Hanging out with friends who are ambitious, fun, talkative and intelligent is inspiring when I'm in a good mood. When I'm not in a good mood my thoughts veer towards my comparative shortcomings instead. Luckily I can ignore those thoughts or analyze them later and still have a pretty enjoy my company. I thought this would be impossible when I walked in on an office party being held at the J&M Cafe with all of Jarad's new coworkers - mostly semi-yuppies in their 20's. But fortunately he was seated next to what turned out to be probably the most interesting folks in the group. Seated to my left was a petite blond lawyer, about 40 years old, who was a native of Iceland. Later I learned that she used to go to school with the drummer from Sugarcubes, that her brother partied often with Bjork, and that she loved Sigur Ros. Across from her was another woman about the same age, American, who sailed on a 50' Swan from Monte Carlo to Newport Beach, CA via the Panama Canal around 15 years ago. She used to be a massage therapist in LA but her wrists and hands crapped out on her. She now works in this large accounting firm and lives in Wallingford. So yeah, a few interesting folks, including Jarad's officemate who is apparently a member of a secret goth club on Capital Hill that we can't go to because we would have to be invited. LoL. All this entertainment including free drinks and appetizers. Can't beat that.
It took us forever to get home by bus, and of course the one we finally board seems to be full of all the underworld folks from Total Recall. Later my sister came over and we all watched "Mean Girls." I made what should have been wonderful brownies, complete with caramel topping, nuts and chocolate chips. The most special ingredient was the garlic flavored olive oil that I used, instead of the canola oil. BRILLIANT. We still can't get the taste out of our mouths. And that was from one bite.
I'm really tired and I need a shower... and a better attitude!
"In Between" Jobs
MY FIRST DAY OF SEMI-UNEMPLOYMENT! I told the supervisors at the temp job I've been working at for the last four months that I'd be happy to be On Call for days in March when they really needed someone. Apparently they always really need someone so they said "Just let us know weekly what days you can work." I really don't see myself showing up more than two days per week this month. It's easy work and pays $100/day after taxes, so it's no bother at all to work a few days per week.
I've been sleeping in until 9am lately. I was thinking I'd start acclimating myself, sleepwise, to Michigan time, but I'd rather just enjoy my days off. Plus I have a few days free in Michigan before starting work so I can get over jet lag while there.
Today was fun. Went to REI and bought my first climbing harness, all nice and padded. Hell I might even start using it for climbing! It certainly is motivating now that I have my own. Went to happy hour with Capt. A and had some killer artichoke dip. Then I came home, drank some Obsidian Stout w/Jarad and made a very tasty red sauce = sauteed cut-up steak pieces with garlic, simmered in diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, wine, and a bit of fat saved from the time we fried up that organic pepperwood bacon from Whole Foods. Oh, and add cream and you have a super rich sauce. Almost too rich. But I ate it. It was good.
I'm going to work on zine stuff now.
I've been sleeping in until 9am lately. I was thinking I'd start acclimating myself, sleepwise, to Michigan time, but I'd rather just enjoy my days off. Plus I have a few days free in Michigan before starting work so I can get over jet lag while there.
Today was fun. Went to REI and bought my first climbing harness, all nice and padded. Hell I might even start using it for climbing! It certainly is motivating now that I have my own. Went to happy hour with Capt. A and had some killer artichoke dip. Then I came home, drank some Obsidian Stout w/Jarad and made a very tasty red sauce = sauteed cut-up steak pieces with garlic, simmered in diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, wine, and a bit of fat saved from the time we fried up that organic pepperwood bacon from Whole Foods. Oh, and add cream and you have a super rich sauce. Almost too rich. But I ate it. It was good.
I'm going to work on zine stuff now.
Jesus Camp Fiery Furnaces
It is Tuesday morning and Fiery Furnaces are playing through my speakers, mesmerizing me. They are unpredictable and wacky and make me want to go play on the art or hide behind trees in Volunteer Park. They will lull you with a mellow beat then freak you out with space alien sounds or some kind of aboriginal walkabout craziness. The album I'm listening to is Bitter Tea. Check it out. I'm a sucker for new music. New indie music, specifically. New jazz, emo, and most new rock elicits little more than a yawn from me. What is Tom Waits classified as? He never makes me yawn.
Have Kevin Barnes help with a later Beatles album and I suppose you'd have something close to Fiery Furnaces.
Since my last post... I watched JESUS CAMP. As I told Nanette, "Saved" is to "Jesus Camp" what "Scary Movie" was to the entire "Friday the 13th" series. It is truly a horror movie. But it's interesting because if you play the commentary you'll find that the directors take a very unbiased stance. Is it just because I'm from LiberalLand that I assume they have an agenda? In their commentary they state only that this was a very good topic, with great personalities to have as subjects, and that they added the not-so-far-right radio commentator to give the movie depth and controversy. Once you consider that the movie focuses entirely on Evangelical Christians, sometimes even Pentacostals, you get why they all seem more extreme than what you thought was the normal Christian following in the midwest. There's a million hypocritical Christians out there - the movie subjects, specifically the children, are not part of that group. They're hardcore! And the fun but probably very disconcerting part was the big scene with Ted Haggard, PRE paying-a-gay-prostitute-for-sex-and-meth Pastor Ted. The subtitle when Ted appears is about how he and Dubya talk every Monday morning on the phone (!!!). The commentary is post-arrest, and they do mention how they respected the kids more than the country's most famous pastor. It's an amazing documentary. The cinematography is great. If you love documentaries or horror movies or taking a peek into really bizarre subcultures you'll love this flick.
Ok I also watched The Departed on DVD. Great movie, great performances. I almost wish it hadn't been hyped so much because I expected something truly amazing. But like I said, it was great.
Friday night Jarad and I met Andrew M. and Victoria (from Adventuress, Lynx, Lady, etc.) at Sunset Bowl for Karaoke. Victoria and Jarad sang a few times. Karaoke there sucks, in my opinion. It's tiny, loud, and the DJ is an ass. No new songs, either. Saturday we went to Uwajimaya (first time for me) and must have spent 3 hours there. I reminisced days in Hawaii by buying ling hing mui gummi bears, passionfruit, rice crackers, starfruit and mochi ice cream. Jarad loved the mochi ice cream as I expected he would. The lilikoi made my mouth water just as it did every time I used to walk down the driveway at the flower farm at Kualoa Ranch, seeing the tree there, anticipating finding the fruit on the ground. I'm salivating now just thinking about it. I adore passionfruit. That passionfruit vine wraps around a tree that stands right next to the fake cafe featured in the movie "40 First Dates" if you saw that and can imagine a visual. Sunday we went to Salmon Bay for breakfast, picked Thadeus up from the airport, and then I went over to Andrew's hotel where we spent hours looking at really awesome digital shots of Antarctica and the Palmer - the icebreaker he's been crewing on. Andrew somehow found himself in The Future and at some point bought a laptop, iPod and digital camera, to my surprise. I'm hoping to hear more from him from now on. Of all the sailors who refuse to get on board with technology, I'm very glad he's no longer one of them.
Now I'm playing Lady Sovereign. She's making me too antsy to continue sitting here and typing.
Have Kevin Barnes help with a later Beatles album and I suppose you'd have something close to Fiery Furnaces.
Since my last post... I watched JESUS CAMP. As I told Nanette, "Saved" is to "Jesus Camp" what "Scary Movie" was to the entire "Friday the 13th" series. It is truly a horror movie. But it's interesting because if you play the commentary you'll find that the directors take a very unbiased stance. Is it just because I'm from LiberalLand that I assume they have an agenda? In their commentary they state only that this was a very good topic, with great personalities to have as subjects, and that they added the not-so-far-right radio commentator to give the movie depth and controversy. Once you consider that the movie focuses entirely on Evangelical Christians, sometimes even Pentacostals, you get why they all seem more extreme than what you thought was the normal Christian following in the midwest. There's a million hypocritical Christians out there - the movie subjects, specifically the children, are not part of that group. They're hardcore! And the fun but probably very disconcerting part was the big scene with Ted Haggard, PRE paying-a-gay-prostitute-for-sex-and-meth Pastor Ted. The subtitle when Ted appears is about how he and Dubya talk every Monday morning on the phone (!!!). The commentary is post-arrest, and they do mention how they respected the kids more than the country's most famous pastor. It's an amazing documentary. The cinematography is great. If you love documentaries or horror movies or taking a peek into really bizarre subcultures you'll love this flick.
Ok I also watched The Departed on DVD. Great movie, great performances. I almost wish it hadn't been hyped so much because I expected something truly amazing. But like I said, it was great.
Friday night Jarad and I met Andrew M. and Victoria (from Adventuress, Lynx, Lady, etc.) at Sunset Bowl for Karaoke. Victoria and Jarad sang a few times. Karaoke there sucks, in my opinion. It's tiny, loud, and the DJ is an ass. No new songs, either. Saturday we went to Uwajimaya (first time for me) and must have spent 3 hours there. I reminisced days in Hawaii by buying ling hing mui gummi bears, passionfruit, rice crackers, starfruit and mochi ice cream. Jarad loved the mochi ice cream as I expected he would. The lilikoi made my mouth water just as it did every time I used to walk down the driveway at the flower farm at Kualoa Ranch, seeing the tree there, anticipating finding the fruit on the ground. I'm salivating now just thinking about it. I adore passionfruit. That passionfruit vine wraps around a tree that stands right next to the fake cafe featured in the movie "40 First Dates" if you saw that and can imagine a visual. Sunday we went to Salmon Bay for breakfast, picked Thadeus up from the airport, and then I went over to Andrew's hotel where we spent hours looking at really awesome digital shots of Antarctica and the Palmer - the icebreaker he's been crewing on. Andrew somehow found himself in The Future and at some point bought a laptop, iPod and digital camera, to my surprise. I'm hoping to hear more from him from now on. Of all the sailors who refuse to get on board with technology, I'm very glad he's no longer one of them.
Now I'm playing Lady Sovereign. She's making me too antsy to continue sitting here and typing.
Feed the Hungry?
Whoops that's NOT what presidents do. Did I really say that?
Mason has pointed out that this is definitely NOT what Bush is doing.
I have a car this week, so Jarad and I went out to breakfast before he had to be at work this morning. Breakfast is kind of "our thing" so that was fun. A good way to start a day before our stupid jobs. It's 5pm and he just called me to tell me there's a sort of moral boosting party at the big accounting firm he's temping for. He's at the top of a skyscraper downtown, looking through walls of glass at the Seattle skyline, drinking a martini. He sounded pretty happy with that scenario, which made me smile. Jarad's been almost giddy since he decided to go back to Texas. He loves Austin, and misses his friends and family very much. Winter in Seattle can be very depressing. It's too bad he's going to miss the glorious Seattle summer, but I won't be here anyway, and it sounds like his friends might have a hard time affording the trip.
I'll be working on a boat till early fall. I leave late March! So we're giving up our apartment and I think we'll both be happy to never live through another 6-month Northwest winter again.
Mason has pointed out that this is definitely NOT what Bush is doing.
I have a car this week, so Jarad and I went out to breakfast before he had to be at work this morning. Breakfast is kind of "our thing" so that was fun. A good way to start a day before our stupid jobs. It's 5pm and he just called me to tell me there's a sort of moral boosting party at the big accounting firm he's temping for. He's at the top of a skyscraper downtown, looking through walls of glass at the Seattle skyline, drinking a martini. He sounded pretty happy with that scenario, which made me smile. Jarad's been almost giddy since he decided to go back to Texas. He loves Austin, and misses his friends and family very much. Winter in Seattle can be very depressing. It's too bad he's going to miss the glorious Seattle summer, but I won't be here anyway, and it sounds like his friends might have a hard time affording the trip.
I'll be working on a boat till early fall. I leave late March! So we're giving up our apartment and I think we'll both be happy to never live through another 6-month Northwest winter again.
President's Day
In honor of all presidents past, I spent yesterday "cleaning house" and feeding the hungry. Actually I cleaned house literally. Not figuratively. And Jarad and I were "the hungry." I made pepperoni & cheese bread, baked drumsticks and chocolate chip cookies. A real comfort food kinda day I guess.
Our weekend never got more exciting. We finished watching the last season of Angel so now we're like "So what should we do?" Karaoke for Friday night had been canceled, and karaoke for Sunday night just wasn't in the cards for us. Too bad, too, because I read on myspace that Cass SANG! I've never heard her sing.
A girl that I was in Basic Training (Air Force) with 14 years ago found me on myspace and we've been chatting it up. I move so much. I don't have many friends from that far back. None from high school - though that suits me fine for the most part. I found a few people on myspace that I'd hung out with when I was 19, but we haven't hooked up yet. I stay in touch off and on with a good friend who lives in Ireland now, whom I hung out with a lot about 10 years ago... but besides that I guess my best friends are mostly people I spent time with in Hawaii. Nanette & Polly in particular.
Anyway I'm rambling. Oh yeah I think I DO have pneumonia! Yay!!! But deep breathing and inhaling fumes from boiling cups of Tiger-Balm water helps. Plus Jarad never got sick which is really fortunate. I'm listening to Brazilian Girls this morning and getting ready for work. Looking forward to quitting this job in a few weeks!
Our weekend never got more exciting. We finished watching the last season of Angel so now we're like "So what should we do?" Karaoke for Friday night had been canceled, and karaoke for Sunday night just wasn't in the cards for us. Too bad, too, because I read on myspace that Cass SANG! I've never heard her sing.
A girl that I was in Basic Training (Air Force) with 14 years ago found me on myspace and we've been chatting it up. I move so much. I don't have many friends from that far back. None from high school - though that suits me fine for the most part. I found a few people on myspace that I'd hung out with when I was 19, but we haven't hooked up yet. I stay in touch off and on with a good friend who lives in Ireland now, whom I hung out with a lot about 10 years ago... but besides that I guess my best friends are mostly people I spent time with in Hawaii. Nanette & Polly in particular.
Anyway I'm rambling. Oh yeah I think I DO have pneumonia! Yay!!! But deep breathing and inhaling fumes from boiling cups of Tiger-Balm water helps. Plus Jarad never got sick which is really fortunate. I'm listening to Brazilian Girls this morning and getting ready for work. Looking forward to quitting this job in a few weeks!
Slow weekend
We went to Glo's for breakfast today and I had the best biscuits and gravy I've ever had in my LIFE. Then I found some wool pants on sale at urban outfitters for $7.50. I know! You're probably saying "there's something at urban outfitters for under $25???" and yes there is - ugly brown wool pants. Go figure.
I have a killer cough. It feels like there is fluid in my lungs that refuses to evaporate or come out or just go away. It really sucks. Do I have pneumonia or something? I've had this cough for over a week and can't breathe deep without coughing upon exhalation. I had the same thing going on for 1 1/2 years after I developed chronic bronchitis. I suppose the key word there is CHRONIC. Then I took a yoga class a little over a year ago and focused on getting my breathing down better. I guess I'll have to do that again. My voice permanently became raspier after that first bronchial thing. Lately I sound like my aunts who've been smoking around 20 years each. Maybe later I can get a job as the voice for Marge's sister on the Simpsons... or just sound like a really mean captain.
I have a killer cough. It feels like there is fluid in my lungs that refuses to evaporate or come out or just go away. It really sucks. Do I have pneumonia or something? I've had this cough for over a week and can't breathe deep without coughing upon exhalation. I had the same thing going on for 1 1/2 years after I developed chronic bronchitis. I suppose the key word there is CHRONIC. Then I took a yoga class a little over a year ago and focused on getting my breathing down better. I guess I'll have to do that again. My voice permanently became raspier after that first bronchial thing. Lately I sound like my aunts who've been smoking around 20 years each. Maybe later I can get a job as the voice for Marge's sister on the Simpsons... or just sound like a really mean captain.
I AM SO SICK
I was feeling kinda nauseous last week, then Thursday I developed a terrible wheezing cough. By Friday morning I was hot with fever and really achy. I called in sick to work and slept the entire day, but Jarad and I had won tickets to a show late Friday night at the Showbox and I went, even though I was hacking and weak and probably infecting everyone around me. The walk home from downtown at 1am was torture, and I ended up feverish or with chills throughout last night too. I spent all day today inside, shuffling around our tiny place, watching Angel. Right now I'm at the computer and perched over my rice cooker, which is serving as a makeshift humidifier. A little moisture in the bronchial tube keeps me from the pain that has been coming from just breathing. My aunt called today and said everyone's had this coughy flu thing and they've ended up in bed for at least a week each. I say screw that. My tried and true Pretend-I'm-Not-Sick method should get me through this. When I'm not hacking my brains out or passed out from exhaustion, that is. Needless to say, I WILL SEE OTTERS TOMORROW. And while I may not sing karaoke tomorrow night, I WILL watch my friends sing karaoke tomorrow night.
Somebody took video at the show last night: Here's Of Montreal!
Here's a video for a song of theirs that I really like:
And HERE is a refreshingly different performer - I liked her but Jarad didn't. In my opinion, if Conor Oberst was the girl from Postal Service (with similar beats at times) then you have The Blow:
Jarad, on the other hand, thought she was more like Wesley Willis.
Somebody took video at the show last night: Here's Of Montreal!
Here's a video for a song of theirs that I really like:
And HERE is a refreshingly different performer - I liked her but Jarad didn't. In my opinion, if Conor Oberst was the girl from Postal Service (with similar beats at times) then you have The Blow:
Jarad, on the other hand, thought she was more like Wesley Willis.
Blogger's TRUE STORIES - Garee Coalman
Jarad and Leanne did this thing where you set your iPod to shuffle and with each new song it adds to your Life Soundtrack - or somebody's life soundtrack. It doesn't have to be your own. It can be a made up one like this one I came up with based on my random playlist:
Opening Credits:
Hotel Arizona by Wilco
Garee Coalman - what we didn't see in Differnt Strokes or the Sureal Life...
Flash through a quick montage of Garee's days as a young stand up comedian on tour in Arizona. He's not very successful. We see him drowning himself in whiskey after each show and reminiscing his childhood.
Waking Up:
Black (unreleased) by Saul Williams
Born during a James Brown concert in LA, Garee's parents were proud members of the Blak Pantherz. They'd poured their hopes and dreams into this new strong son that they knew would carry on their legacy of righteousness. They tried to instill in him a connectedness to the earth and a fighting spirit.
First Day at School:
Cast in the Haze (Been There Four Days) by Of Montreal
Tiny Garee, buoyed for years by his strong and loving community of Pantherz, finds himself alone and exposed after a conspiracy against his parents landed them in prison and him in the Phoenix suburbs with a new, rich, white family. Funny how Differnt Strokes imitated this part of his life.
All this happened right around the time Garee started kindergarten. Here the young boy falls in love with Rose, a beautiful redhead. Yes, he was young and didn't really know the meaning of love, but this infatuation led to a string of mishaps with white girls... his parents, in their shame, disowned him for his cracker leanings.
Fight Song:
Jailhouse by Sublime
Over the next few years Garee grew angry over being such a disappointment to his birth parents. He was a rebel.
Breaking Up:
Why Can't You Be Nicer to Me by The White Stripes
Garee's small man complex affects every relationship. He treats all his girlfriends like crap and they all say the same thing. "Why can't you be nicer to me?" The truth is, he only wanted little Rosie.
Prom:
The Sounds of Science by The Beastie Boys
Strangely young Garee immersed himself in science and philosophy during his last few years at the white suburban high school. Little Rose had grown to become quite the bookworm (think Fred from Angel). In an attempt to finally be noticed by her, Garee dedicated his days to studying chemistry. It was in the lab, that, for a fleeting moment, Garee and Rose found a small bit of their own chemistry - or so he thought. That's when he asked Rose to Prom. She and Garee got hot and heavy next to the bunson burners. Rose, it turns out, liked to get freaky in the lab. But that was all the love she had for Garee... her little man curiosity was quickly satisfied.
Life:
Slob by Weezer
After being blown off by Rose, Garee gave up science, became depressed and called himself an Existentialist. Why bother with college? He laughed every time he looked in the mirror. What a joke he had become. Then something clicked. He was a joke. LIFE was a joke. He pulled a business card out of a dirty pair of jeans on the floor. It had been handed to him by a casting agent who had approached him at the mall, telling him how "cute" he was and how together they could make a fortune. Here he began a life of leisure, as long as he could carry off his famous line; "whatchoo talkin' bout..." yeah you know the rest.
After several years on Differnt Strokes, Garee went back to AZ to do stand up and was able to ride the coattails of his own Hollywood fame for awhile. But the little man was not very funny on his own. And he knew it. Garee was bitter. He hated people, and he hated being small.
Mental Breakdown:
The Miniature Philosopher by Of Montreal
In the style of Howard Hughes, Garee locked himself away to ponder life and the meaning of it all. He rented a yurt on a Dine' Reservation and remained in solitude for 3 years.
Driving:
The Truth by Handome Boy Modeling School
One day Garee had an epiphany: there might not be a point to life, but here he was, still alive. Might it be better to just remember the good times, try and make the best of it, to live life to it's fullest? He ran out of the yurt to his car, managed to start it up, and headed straight for the Hollywood Hills.
Flashback:
The Road by Tenacious D
On his drive to LA Garee thinks back over his life. All that time he'd been bitter - not appreciating crazy nights on his stand up tour - more redheads... the fire down below...
Wedding:
Goodbye Honey by Ryan Adams
Over before it began. Again. One heroin filled night during this quest to really enjoy life, Garee found Rose working a pole at a strip club in Compton. She may have gotten over her small-guy fetish but the truth is she went black and never went back. At first she liked the way the Compton boys roughed her up after each shift, but after awhile the bruising was bad for business. Seeing Garee again, Rose thought here was a brother she didn't have to fear. Garee plied her with much-craved valium, and the next morning they were awakened by a bellboy at the Rio in Vegas. Rose was swimming in mardi gras beads under a fake palm in the lobby. Garee reached in his pants and pulled out a piece of paper - a marriage license. He sat back, waiting for the drugs to wear off.
Rose left later that day and he didn't hear from her until 9 months later.
Birth of a Child:
You Tell Me by Johnny Cash
A letter arrives in the mail. Rose had a baby. It died.
Garee doesn't let all this drive him back to solitude. He tries to once more make a name for himself in Hollywood. Years passed by, publicity from The Sureal Life helped, and now Garee wanted to direct. He had a great idea..
Final Battle:
Holland, 1945 by Neutral Milk Hotel
Garee pitched a movie to a producer - it was all the crazy events in his life but set during World War II. A small black man in love and fighting the harshness of the world - this is how he saw himself. Garee's idea was crushed as no producer had any interest in his idea. Little Garee finally gave up. Rose was gone, he never once saw his child alive, and Hollywood didn't want him.
Death Scene:
Section 12 (Hold Me Now) by The Polyphonic Spree
Garee poured a bottle of sleeping pills onto a table. He grabbed 5 pills, put them in his mouth and washed them down with straight whiskey. Garee passes out but wakes up as his stomach is being pumped by a lovely redheaded nurse. It's Rose. She's rehabilitated and found God and achieved her nursing degree with the financial support of her new Fundy friends. It's too late for Garee, though. His consciousness is brief and his vision of Rose fades to black as his soul slips away from his mortal coil.
Funeral Song:
Down In A Second by Phantom Planet
In Garee's final comedic act, his casket was accidentally dropped into the grave.
End Credits:
Give My Love to Rose by Johnny Cash
Opening Credits:
Hotel Arizona by Wilco
Garee Coalman - what we didn't see in Differnt Strokes or the Sureal Life...
Flash through a quick montage of Garee's days as a young stand up comedian on tour in Arizona. He's not very successful. We see him drowning himself in whiskey after each show and reminiscing his childhood.
Waking Up:
Black (unreleased) by Saul Williams
Born during a James Brown concert in LA, Garee's parents were proud members of the Blak Pantherz. They'd poured their hopes and dreams into this new strong son that they knew would carry on their legacy of righteousness. They tried to instill in him a connectedness to the earth and a fighting spirit.
First Day at School:
Cast in the Haze (Been There Four Days) by Of Montreal
Tiny Garee, buoyed for years by his strong and loving community of Pantherz, finds himself alone and exposed after a conspiracy against his parents landed them in prison and him in the Phoenix suburbs with a new, rich, white family. Funny how Differnt Strokes imitated this part of his life.
All this happened right around the time Garee started kindergarten. Here the young boy falls in love with Rose, a beautiful redhead. Yes, he was young and didn't really know the meaning of love, but this infatuation led to a string of mishaps with white girls... his parents, in their shame, disowned him for his cracker leanings.
Fight Song:
Jailhouse by Sublime
Over the next few years Garee grew angry over being such a disappointment to his birth parents. He was a rebel.
Breaking Up:
Why Can't You Be Nicer to Me by The White Stripes
Garee's small man complex affects every relationship. He treats all his girlfriends like crap and they all say the same thing. "Why can't you be nicer to me?" The truth is, he only wanted little Rosie.
Prom:
The Sounds of Science by The Beastie Boys
Strangely young Garee immersed himself in science and philosophy during his last few years at the white suburban high school. Little Rose had grown to become quite the bookworm (think Fred from Angel). In an attempt to finally be noticed by her, Garee dedicated his days to studying chemistry. It was in the lab, that, for a fleeting moment, Garee and Rose found a small bit of their own chemistry - or so he thought. That's when he asked Rose to Prom. She and Garee got hot and heavy next to the bunson burners. Rose, it turns out, liked to get freaky in the lab. But that was all the love she had for Garee... her little man curiosity was quickly satisfied.
Life:
Slob by Weezer
After being blown off by Rose, Garee gave up science, became depressed and called himself an Existentialist. Why bother with college? He laughed every time he looked in the mirror. What a joke he had become. Then something clicked. He was a joke. LIFE was a joke. He pulled a business card out of a dirty pair of jeans on the floor. It had been handed to him by a casting agent who had approached him at the mall, telling him how "cute" he was and how together they could make a fortune. Here he began a life of leisure, as long as he could carry off his famous line; "whatchoo talkin' bout..." yeah you know the rest.
After several years on Differnt Strokes, Garee went back to AZ to do stand up and was able to ride the coattails of his own Hollywood fame for awhile. But the little man was not very funny on his own. And he knew it. Garee was bitter. He hated people, and he hated being small.
Mental Breakdown:
The Miniature Philosopher by Of Montreal
In the style of Howard Hughes, Garee locked himself away to ponder life and the meaning of it all. He rented a yurt on a Dine' Reservation and remained in solitude for 3 years.
Driving:
The Truth by Handome Boy Modeling School
One day Garee had an epiphany: there might not be a point to life, but here he was, still alive. Might it be better to just remember the good times, try and make the best of it, to live life to it's fullest? He ran out of the yurt to his car, managed to start it up, and headed straight for the Hollywood Hills.
Flashback:
The Road by Tenacious D
On his drive to LA Garee thinks back over his life. All that time he'd been bitter - not appreciating crazy nights on his stand up tour - more redheads... the fire down below...
Wedding:
Goodbye Honey by Ryan Adams
Over before it began. Again. One heroin filled night during this quest to really enjoy life, Garee found Rose working a pole at a strip club in Compton. She may have gotten over her small-guy fetish but the truth is she went black and never went back. At first she liked the way the Compton boys roughed her up after each shift, but after awhile the bruising was bad for business. Seeing Garee again, Rose thought here was a brother she didn't have to fear. Garee plied her with much-craved valium, and the next morning they were awakened by a bellboy at the Rio in Vegas. Rose was swimming in mardi gras beads under a fake palm in the lobby. Garee reached in his pants and pulled out a piece of paper - a marriage license. He sat back, waiting for the drugs to wear off.
Rose left later that day and he didn't hear from her until 9 months later.
Birth of a Child:
You Tell Me by Johnny Cash
A letter arrives in the mail. Rose had a baby. It died.
Garee doesn't let all this drive him back to solitude. He tries to once more make a name for himself in Hollywood. Years passed by, publicity from The Sureal Life helped, and now Garee wanted to direct. He had a great idea..
Final Battle:
Holland, 1945 by Neutral Milk Hotel
Garee pitched a movie to a producer - it was all the crazy events in his life but set during World War II. A small black man in love and fighting the harshness of the world - this is how he saw himself. Garee's idea was crushed as no producer had any interest in his idea. Little Garee finally gave up. Rose was gone, he never once saw his child alive, and Hollywood didn't want him.
Death Scene:
Section 12 (Hold Me Now) by The Polyphonic Spree
Garee poured a bottle of sleeping pills onto a table. He grabbed 5 pills, put them in his mouth and washed them down with straight whiskey. Garee passes out but wakes up as his stomach is being pumped by a lovely redheaded nurse. It's Rose. She's rehabilitated and found God and achieved her nursing degree with the financial support of her new Fundy friends. It's too late for Garee, though. His consciousness is brief and his vision of Rose fades to black as his soul slips away from his mortal coil.
Funeral Song:
Down In A Second by Phantom Planet
In Garee's final comedic act, his casket was accidentally dropped into the grave.
End Credits:
Give My Love to Rose by Johnny Cash
Free Lattes
Kirkland guy started a cafe where you Pay What You Can.
"he figures he can finesse the largesse of well-off latte lovers to cover the tabs of the less fortunate." - The Seattle Times 2/6/07
www.terrabite.org
Though we all know that Kirkland probably has, like, one, maybe two, low income residents... I still think it's an awesome idea.
"he figures he can finesse the largesse of well-off latte lovers to cover the tabs of the less fortunate." - The Seattle Times 2/6/07
www.terrabite.org
Though we all know that Kirkland probably has, like, one, maybe two, low income residents... I still think it's an awesome idea.
Creepy Guy
So get this, my friend has a stalker and his name is Louis. After a year of her going through a ton of crap with him, and thinking he's finally over her, this guy links through her myspace friend list to my "jack tar" myspace profile and decides to contact me via not only the contact email I've posted, but also via letter to my magazine address. He says he's coming to Seattle and wants three copies of my magazine. This guy is in no way involved with traditional maritime stuff. What a creepy psycho dude.
THIS IS WHY I KEEP MY PROFILE PRIVATE. It's bad enough that this blog is open to public viewing.
THIS IS WHY I KEEP MY PROFILE PRIVATE. It's bad enough that this blog is open to public viewing.
I can't believe she made it.
I just finished reading Maiden Voyage by Tania Aebi. It got to be laughable - how did she make it around the world? People towed her through rougher harbors, she always hid out in her bunk in heavy storms, her cats pissed and pooped all over her bed, her food, everything. She didn't learn how to properly stow ANYTHING until the last month of her 2 1/2 year trip. And I'm talking anything. Her floors were constantly covered with food and sauces, she lost cans of fuel out of the cockpit... all because she didn't stow stuff right. A million people fixed her engine for her, and then she would promptly destroy it. I'd rather have read about how she grew as a person than how she fumbled around the world, messing up her boat, and calling her daddy for money or to come put her boat back together. But hey, she WAS only 18 when she set out. And not very salty.
Here's the one paragraph I got a kick out of about a fake beard and an empty grenade that she brought on her trip:
"My father and I had assumed that if ever somebody (undesirable) wanted to board, maybe a bearded man would make the predators think twice. If that didn't work, I could pull out the pin, hold up the grenade and say, "If you come on my boat, we all go." If they still ignored the twerp with bold words and decided to come anyway, well, what the heck, I tried"
Here's the one paragraph I got a kick out of about a fake beard and an empty grenade that she brought on her trip:
"My father and I had assumed that if ever somebody (undesirable) wanted to board, maybe a bearded man would make the predators think twice. If that didn't work, I could pull out the pin, hold up the grenade and say, "If you come on my boat, we all go." If they still ignored the twerp with bold words and decided to come anyway, well, what the heck, I tried"
Morning with Stupid
Give me a good reason why I should be called "captain" of anything, because this morning I've proven my almost complete inability to navigate my way into a building that lies about 1 mile from my apartment. After one hour of joviality, one hour of confusion, a brief cry, and another hour of bewilderment, I managed to locate the new Coast Guard Licensing office in downtown Seattle. That's the short story. Skip the rest unless you want to hear the gritty yet sometimes entertaining details of my Tuesday morning ridiculousness...
First the lesson: Never attempt an important errand without a thoroughly researched plan. You know that attitude that some people have... those people who say to me "Kim, you plan too much, you worry too much! Relax! Everything'll work out." Yeah you know who you are. Can I blame this morning on you? I won't. I'll take the blame. I'm a dufus. I'm a dufus because instead of checking the address, I just ASSuMEd that the REC was in the same place it was 4 years ago - on the Coast Guard base way down the waterfront past the shipyard. Makes sense, right? Coastie office on a Coastie base? WRONG. But before anyone thinks this is going to include any kind of rant against the Seattle REC, you're dead wrong, because they have always been great to me.
I thought I'd planned my trip to the REC meticulously; every paper I was submitting was in it's own plastic sleeve, with a brief summary note slipped in with it, for example, a sea service letter had a note summarizing days (inland or NC) and tonnage. Plus I'd gone to bed early so that I could be there when the workers were fresh - upon their 7:30 am opening. I'd hoped for good moods and had originally planned a Monday arrival, but I'd stayed up too late. So after a 6am wakeup, and a 7:12 am bus from Capitol Hill, I was downtown near the ferry dock and walking the long straight walk out to the USCG base. The bums were still asleep in their dirty blankets, the overcast sky was hiding the morning sun, and a dockworker gave me a kind "good morning" along the way. Upon reaching the base I found no way to enter in the usual spot, and saw a sign that said "New Entrance on Massachussetts Ave." I stepped towards the road and looked up and down Alaskan Way, squinting to see distant street signs. Which way was Massachussetts? I wondered. I couldn't remember. I looked around, feeling lost, and figured I'd start walking north to look at some street signs a little closer. A kind looking man was walking briskly in the opposite direction, and he smiled at me and said "Are you looking for the REC?" relieved, I said I was and he proceeded to tell me that he was Andy Crawford, and that he could give me directions. At this point I'm thinking "Andy Crawford! Of the reputedly excellent Crawford Nautical School just one mile north. This is definitely a man who can help me." With his nice smile, Andy points points towards all the buildings downtown and tells me to look at a black smokestack. He tells me basically to line the black smokestack up with one of the shipyard lighted towers and a tall USCG sign. He says go in that direction, and then gave me a ton of instructions about where to go in the actual building. FYI I haven't been even awake before 8 or 9 am in weeks so I got as far as going in the direction of the smokestack and figured I could discern the rest once there. How hard could it be to find Massachussetts street and a federal building? I thanked Andy and went on my merry way, theorizing how my maritime guardian angels were all named Andy and had very Maritime-related last names (Drake, McKee, Crawford). When I reached the area of the smokestack I was in Pioneer Square. No federal building. I walked around a few blocks, looking for Massachussetts Street. No luck. I thought I'd head over to the ferry dock and ask around over there. There was a street map of downtown outside the ferry dock. No Massachussetts street. Five middle eastern taxi drivers were having a big argument about men wearing skirts and one guy asked me to justify that I'd seen this phenomenon. "yes, kilts" I replied. "SEE!? Kilts! She's seen it!" and they went on like this while I made my way up the ferry terminal to find a better map. Nothing was available, so I walked back down to the guys with Seattle maps imprinted in their brains (the taxi drivers) and asked them to point me in the right direction. "Massachussetts? You want me take you there? ok then well go south on first until you hit it. It's south". So great I was on my way and heading south on first, walking by some of the same bums and people walking their dogs, down, down first. Down, down, wow this seems far from Andy's smokestack... I found a busdriver at a bus stop and asked him if I was close to my street. Just a few more blocks he says. I look to my right and see a big Coastie vessel over the top of a building and ask myself "am I really all the way back by the USCG base?" and this is affirmed once I hit Massachussets street to find nothing on it but buldozers and lighting stores, until it meets up with the USCG base across Alaskan Way.
At which point my eyes get a little wet with frustration.
Swearing that I will figure this crap out, and hoping I don't see Andy Crawford again, I walk the front of the base again. Two young Coastie girls picking up trash walk up and I ask them if they know where the Regional Exam Center is. They've never heard of such a thing. And look interested but still confused when I tell them it's where people apply for their captain's licenses. One girl tells me to go to the USCG front gate and talk to "a large black man named Mr. Gatti". I thank them and minutes later I find Mr. Gatti, who informs me that indeed the REC has moved and it's now at 9th and Jackson. I thank him as well and start another trek downtown, this being the 4th time I've walked this distance. Downtown I pass several streets, but not Jackson, and when I reach the streets I know, I realize I'm not going to pass Jackson anytime soon. My backpack is heavy. My legs hurt. It's after 9am. I sit down in front of a tall building near 2nd and Cherry with stonehenge-like rocks decorating it's terrace. The bench reeks of urine. I'm close to a bus stop and thinking my transfer will get me back south, where Jackson must be, I wait for a bus. I see a bus that says it's going south and hop on, only to find that it's getting on Highway 99, next stop West Seattle. As it turns the corner towards the highway I ask the jerry-curled driver if this bus goes to King Street Station (the train station near Jackson) and he says No. I say "i'm stuck on here, aren't I?" to which he actually replies "yep. unless you wanna give me something." I realize he is wanting me to slip him some cash and I just slink back. I sit there, way past crying, and just finally relaxed in a warm seat and laughing a bit to myself. In West Seattle I get off and jerry curl tells me what return bus to catch. On the next bus I'm pretty mellowed out and enjoying the morning sun behind mount Rainier, and those cool UFO clouds above it. I get off the bus again, near Jackson, and find 2nd and Jackson straightaway. No federal building. There's a county building where a security guard tells me "nope, no Coast Guard Regional Exam office here" and I almost tear up again but instead head over to Zeitgeist coffee, where I cannot get wifi, then to Tullys, where wifi is spotty, but up long enough to google a map for the actual REC address, which turned out to be 2nd and Marion. Mean-faced and haggard I hike up 2nd and find myself at a building I'd passed twice already this morning. The same one with pee-smelling benches.
So, 3 hours after my trek began and with one hour to spare before having to head to work, I arrive at the REC. They laugh at my plastic sleeves and notes and take my fingerprints on a cool scanning machine. They charge me $100 and tell me I should have my license in 4 weeks.
THE END
First the lesson: Never attempt an important errand without a thoroughly researched plan. You know that attitude that some people have... those people who say to me "Kim, you plan too much, you worry too much! Relax! Everything'll work out." Yeah you know who you are. Can I blame this morning on you? I won't. I'll take the blame. I'm a dufus. I'm a dufus because instead of checking the address, I just ASSuMEd that the REC was in the same place it was 4 years ago - on the Coast Guard base way down the waterfront past the shipyard. Makes sense, right? Coastie office on a Coastie base? WRONG. But before anyone thinks this is going to include any kind of rant against the Seattle REC, you're dead wrong, because they have always been great to me.
I thought I'd planned my trip to the REC meticulously; every paper I was submitting was in it's own plastic sleeve, with a brief summary note slipped in with it, for example, a sea service letter had a note summarizing days (inland or NC) and tonnage. Plus I'd gone to bed early so that I could be there when the workers were fresh - upon their 7:30 am opening. I'd hoped for good moods and had originally planned a Monday arrival, but I'd stayed up too late. So after a 6am wakeup, and a 7:12 am bus from Capitol Hill, I was downtown near the ferry dock and walking the long straight walk out to the USCG base. The bums were still asleep in their dirty blankets, the overcast sky was hiding the morning sun, and a dockworker gave me a kind "good morning" along the way. Upon reaching the base I found no way to enter in the usual spot, and saw a sign that said "New Entrance on Massachussetts Ave." I stepped towards the road and looked up and down Alaskan Way, squinting to see distant street signs. Which way was Massachussetts? I wondered. I couldn't remember. I looked around, feeling lost, and figured I'd start walking north to look at some street signs a little closer. A kind looking man was walking briskly in the opposite direction, and he smiled at me and said "Are you looking for the REC?" relieved, I said I was and he proceeded to tell me that he was Andy Crawford, and that he could give me directions. At this point I'm thinking "Andy Crawford! Of the reputedly excellent Crawford Nautical School just one mile north. This is definitely a man who can help me." With his nice smile, Andy points points towards all the buildings downtown and tells me to look at a black smokestack. He tells me basically to line the black smokestack up with one of the shipyard lighted towers and a tall USCG sign. He says go in that direction, and then gave me a ton of instructions about where to go in the actual building. FYI I haven't been even awake before 8 or 9 am in weeks so I got as far as going in the direction of the smokestack and figured I could discern the rest once there. How hard could it be to find Massachussetts street and a federal building? I thanked Andy and went on my merry way, theorizing how my maritime guardian angels were all named Andy and had very Maritime-related last names (Drake, McKee, Crawford). When I reached the area of the smokestack I was in Pioneer Square. No federal building. I walked around a few blocks, looking for Massachussetts Street. No luck. I thought I'd head over to the ferry dock and ask around over there. There was a street map of downtown outside the ferry dock. No Massachussetts street. Five middle eastern taxi drivers were having a big argument about men wearing skirts and one guy asked me to justify that I'd seen this phenomenon. "yes, kilts" I replied. "SEE!? Kilts! She's seen it!" and they went on like this while I made my way up the ferry terminal to find a better map. Nothing was available, so I walked back down to the guys with Seattle maps imprinted in their brains (the taxi drivers) and asked them to point me in the right direction. "Massachussetts? You want me take you there? ok then well go south on first until you hit it. It's south". So great I was on my way and heading south on first, walking by some of the same bums and people walking their dogs, down, down first. Down, down, wow this seems far from Andy's smokestack... I found a busdriver at a bus stop and asked him if I was close to my street. Just a few more blocks he says. I look to my right and see a big Coastie vessel over the top of a building and ask myself "am I really all the way back by the USCG base?" and this is affirmed once I hit Massachussets street to find nothing on it but buldozers and lighting stores, until it meets up with the USCG base across Alaskan Way.
At which point my eyes get a little wet with frustration.
Swearing that I will figure this crap out, and hoping I don't see Andy Crawford again, I walk the front of the base again. Two young Coastie girls picking up trash walk up and I ask them if they know where the Regional Exam Center is. They've never heard of such a thing. And look interested but still confused when I tell them it's where people apply for their captain's licenses. One girl tells me to go to the USCG front gate and talk to "a large black man named Mr. Gatti". I thank them and minutes later I find Mr. Gatti, who informs me that indeed the REC has moved and it's now at 9th and Jackson. I thank him as well and start another trek downtown, this being the 4th time I've walked this distance. Downtown I pass several streets, but not Jackson, and when I reach the streets I know, I realize I'm not going to pass Jackson anytime soon. My backpack is heavy. My legs hurt. It's after 9am. I sit down in front of a tall building near 2nd and Cherry with stonehenge-like rocks decorating it's terrace. The bench reeks of urine. I'm close to a bus stop and thinking my transfer will get me back south, where Jackson must be, I wait for a bus. I see a bus that says it's going south and hop on, only to find that it's getting on Highway 99, next stop West Seattle. As it turns the corner towards the highway I ask the jerry-curled driver if this bus goes to King Street Station (the train station near Jackson) and he says No. I say "i'm stuck on here, aren't I?" to which he actually replies "yep. unless you wanna give me something." I realize he is wanting me to slip him some cash and I just slink back. I sit there, way past crying, and just finally relaxed in a warm seat and laughing a bit to myself. In West Seattle I get off and jerry curl tells me what return bus to catch. On the next bus I'm pretty mellowed out and enjoying the morning sun behind mount Rainier, and those cool UFO clouds above it. I get off the bus again, near Jackson, and find 2nd and Jackson straightaway. No federal building. There's a county building where a security guard tells me "nope, no Coast Guard Regional Exam office here" and I almost tear up again but instead head over to Zeitgeist coffee, where I cannot get wifi, then to Tullys, where wifi is spotty, but up long enough to google a map for the actual REC address, which turned out to be 2nd and Marion. Mean-faced and haggard I hike up 2nd and find myself at a building I'd passed twice already this morning. The same one with pee-smelling benches.
So, 3 hours after my trek began and with one hour to spare before having to head to work, I arrive at the REC. They laugh at my plastic sleeves and notes and take my fingerprints on a cool scanning machine. They charge me $100 and tell me I should have my license in 4 weeks.
THE END
Miss March
My friend Cass, featured in many shots below, is "Miss March" in the calendar recently published by her bike club. BUY THIS CALENDAR!!!!
Hello, Plano!
another storm in Seattle! mostly this means You'd Be Stupid To Drive ANYWHERE. oh, and beware leaving breakables under large old trees (like your truck, if you have one).
last night i rec'd a sample copy of the zine i'm working on. i was pretty satisfied, though the publisher acquaintance of mine had tweaked my whole magazine in InDesign and gave me an extra copy showing how he could do it that way. it made me nervous because the whole thing was laid out differently, including every font being changed. i felt guilty telling him i wanted to stick with my design, because here he was trying to help, but mine looks a little DIY on purpose, and he might not "get" that.
by the way, if you, reader, did not get an email from me requesting your home mailing address, and you would like a copy of this 'zine, please email me at jacktarzine(at)gmail.com
everyone who actually donated money ($20 or more) or time to the effort will get a year subscription and a few little extras. one of the extras is a cute button designed by The Beard.
other news - I am applying to boats to work during late spring & summer! can't wait to get back on the water. i guess i'll take the laptop with me and put together the zine from the water, wherever I am.
The title is referring to whomever lives in Plano, Texas and reads this blog. You've been a mystery to me for a year now. Still... Jonathans in Bremerton and Illinois, and numerous folks in LA, thanks for keeping up with me! As well as Mason, Erik, and Mark (I think). Did I miss anyone?
2007 is going to be a kick ass year for all of us!!!!
