tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24140108409052256702024-03-12T20:44:03.694-06:00the noble meditations of amy staffordAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-27331008431577114262009-10-04T08:27:00.000-06:002009-10-04T08:28:10.153-06:00<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Dear Jackson, apropos </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Jackson</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">, <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">I am excited that </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Portland</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> is the newest structure that you must fuck up. </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Portland</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> is the room and nothing lies beyond it (I assume </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Portland</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> is your room, my room is my room right now, but to be analogous and less of a phallus I should say my room is </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Gainesville</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">.) Try to treat it like Plato’s cave, and make friends with those with you that seemingly have never even heard of the word “outside;” plug the sinister corners with ristras and spawn new shadows. But don’t tell them of the death pits, because they will find out on their own if they must. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">It is that I never can write automatically that is my problem. No matter how automatic, I’m terrified (and simultaneously, this is all I ever dream of romantically) that something deep within me will swim violently to the surface, and shoot out of Jacques Cousteau to ascend left from a water-logged box in the North Sea that he has been taken prisoner in for five years, to know that this is really what he is all about, and he will fuck up the epidermal layers, it will shoot off in every direction and land on a million civilian spaghetti dinners. I am not a creative being. I do not breathe, like artists breathe. I see the world around me through lenses, through a dangerous prescription, and I feel the ultraviolet judgment of everyone else. I have moved to </span><st1:state><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Florida</span></st1:place></st1:State><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> and now I lay out directly in the range of this ultravioletness. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>I have just realized that it is the opposite. Here I have for nine months lacked the cancerous judgments I am so comfortable to succumb to. I am too invisible; just strange enough not to get noticed within the militia of my peers. One step more and you are a lunatic, I always think but the opportunity absconds in exponents, one day I take a step, the next day I take another but I never become a <i style="">true</i> lunatic. I feel as though I am dying when the key I have does not fit, an arboreal prisoner for a terrestrial conversation, a salamander in a salt lake. How much longer can I see the world in terms of longitudes and latitudes, obsess over maps and calendars, not unlike a mathematician’s foaming, emotional abacus of rationality? I flounder in oxymoronic decay. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>At the same time I wallow as do the oily elephant seals with the albatross in </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">South Georgia</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">. There is a comfortable grossness, an amalgam of sand, vegetables, pubic hair, and penguin feathers. It is a comfortable grossness like urinating onto your legs, but it remains so unsung. It is the comfort of marginal errors that will save you from putrefaction entirely. <span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>I have trained myself that all I need to speak is one sentence a day, but this is a sedimentary sentiment, and I can only seem to look at that one layer of strata; maybe there are none others. One sentence to pull Jacques Cousteau’s box down even further into the freezing Petri-dish of the sea, losing more hope of an oneiric aerial renaissance. But instead I convince myself that I have been fed, one sentence a day is my appropriate ration. But obviously, I type this to you, it is longer than one sentence. It is better than small talk, I should read it aloud to my classmates for the pure sake of its synergetic existence. People talk themselves out of their accidental celibacies every day, </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Jackson</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">. …every day… <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>Eliza and I appear to be growing beyond each other to the point of occasional insolence, as </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Gainesville</span></st1:place></st1:City><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> and I well have at times. That is not to say anything, we’re still only separated and yet bound by a single strip of dialysis tubing that muffles some sounds while amplifying others. I would paint my room to get it right, it’s uncomfortable. I am no friend, I don’t believe in other people, because they all owe me something. And if just for a second I start to believe in the grandeur and amiability of humanity I am quickly shot back to earth by its orbital slingshot. Still it is a cheerful cynicism, a shitty oxymoron because I feel like a gross bowl of soup. I feel like the soup we try to make in this house and it always turns out gross. Too many beans and too much water and I end up drinking beans. I am opposed to this town as I was opposed to Santa Fe but here there is no trenchlike horizon where the sunsets to line up, waiting to get blown into ten million pieces and scattered into the clouds and the air like ashes let free on the California coastline (somebody’s grandfather died.) I am not focused, I’m distracted by stupid things, I can’t focus and my reality tunnel is humid and dark and searing. I’m trapped within a stretching and contracting hypocrisy, yadda yadda blah blah boo fucking hoo, trapped as fuck my nitric ass. And the ultimate irony is that I have the omnipotent liberty to change everything. It is ridiculous to write as if I am Dostoevsky, impoverished, beleaguered, and Siberian when I have before me an entire universe composed of microscopic futures vibrating at undetectable frequencies. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>“There is nothing beyond this room.” Sometimes its message is ingrained through repetition, but usually I keep the future and the past in mind. I am looking forward to my upcoming travels so much! </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> is the pits and I am ready to get out again. When I’ve traveled previously I often take for granted the extreme joy of sole displacement from this boring society. Not this time! I just bought a book that is all about pairing certain beers with certain foods. I will tear apart </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Germany</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">, </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">England</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">, and </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Belgium</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"> with my drunken somnambulism. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><span style=""> </span>I just got back from an awful show, I left because I was going to faint, not because of the band. Fallacious arguments indeed. It’s when everything in my sight turns white and grainy and then the ground beneath me falls away, I know I will faint. So I walked home and here I am, eating food, thinking about eating more food. I am right back to where I started; it is kind of comforting and kind of terrifying. Trapped again, blah blah blah. I think it is time for me to read another Bukowski book. It’s been a while, and I feel like it will cum into my life at the right time (now?) <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">And then, just with another spoonful of a night, it gets better. More embarrassing, but better. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK! I DON’T GIVE A FUCK! I DON’T GIVE A FUCK! I ate fish the other day. I ate a trigger fish and there was some chorizo on the side and it was good. I just have to do these things in order to be stay a man. I might get another tattoo, of a man in a cowboy hat staring down a louse. Homage to H. Miller. It may or may not happen. Depends on how the drawing works out. It may or may not happen, like I already said. Lately I’ve been enjoying coffee. It has been really harsh as I am not a coffee drinker; I feel like I’m on meth all the time but I like drinking coffee and then going to class because it makes me interject and talk and focus. However, I often forget to eat after I’ve had coffee. This is now all about the simple, floating-on-surface-of-nasty-but-refreshing-pond-water talk. I’m in, man. I’m so in. Are you in? Are you all about the post-rock? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">I look at photos from last year and you can tell they are photos taken by a fearful person. Every subject is distant and its head is turned. I look at photos from the present time and you can tell they were taken by someone who is now so fearless that she would survive being gored by 16 Indian elephants. This is true. But being gored by 16 elephants is terrifying nonetheless. I like to fantasize about a reasonable world, where things grow exponential uncomfortable, but at the same time retain their pillowy quadratic heft. In my head it’s been </span><st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Europe</span></st1:place><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">. Previously it has been everywhere. I think this is retrograde, dare I ever say anything I do is retrograde, that retrograde motion is even a possibility at all, if anything at all is even linear. Sighing to keep the blood flowing. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">I feel like I thought I learned a lot at boarding school, like it completed me in a way. It made me more rational. But I think it was a waste of time. I’ve always been told this by my friends, and I have disagreed, said that it happened and whatever, you can’t change what happened, but now I am furious. It has taken me a whole year and half to even realize that I am furious. Of course I am not furious all of the time. It is all about time and place. TIME AND PLACE. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Courier New";">Goddamn, do I even dare to send this son of a bitch preachy letter? <o:p></o:p></span></p>Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-55370622009517262072008-11-07T10:23:00.003-07:002008-11-07T10:48:24.436-07:00i keep forgetting to post here. i'm at my parents in the san juans. getting nourished. i just got back from the fest and it was the most amazing shit ever, definitely tops fest v by a landslide. i could go into a lot of detail, but i've done that a lot and since nobody reads this, i won't. plus if anyone reads this i've probably already told you my many fest stories. i had something to say and i lost itAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-53461719364538894492008-10-20T02:49:00.002-06:002008-10-20T02:52:18.291-06:00today i cleaned my room<br />i did laundry<br />i looked for a job<br />i looked for houses<br />i went on a drive<br />i bought groceries<br />i made a sandwich in the toaster oven<br />i went to goodwill and got pants and a shirt<br />i started working on my halloween costume<br />i read razorcake<br />i made a giant cookie in the toaster ovenAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-12075726730060579722008-10-19T16:05:00.002-06:002008-10-19T16:22:43.199-06:00man i really hate my life sometimes. i made a gigantic taco. but then it fell on my keyboard. i miss home right now. i need space to breathe. i might apply for a job at a nearby stable. it's all arabians, kind of cool! jess and i are looking to maybe get the hell off campus and get an apartment or something. HOPEFULLY. i never have any idea what the hell i'm doing in life.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-39244743250236037042008-09-23T02:12:00.002-06:002008-09-23T02:15:52.516-06:00trying not to be enthusiastic<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />finally found the bridge and tunnel album<br />and totally ran into matt canino today<br />so surrealAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-65805551456134192962008-09-22T10:26:00.001-06:002008-09-22T10:32:10.725-06:00well holy fucking shit i miss home and my friends.<br />but psyched for bridge and tunnel / good luck / paul baribeau on the 6th<br />mannn my introverted misanthropic ass is too badass for thisAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-36785070472122638932008-09-03T01:13:00.001-06:002008-09-03T01:13:52.828-06:00fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the world fuck the worldAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-5258001365740714842008-08-31T23:26:00.003-06:002008-08-31T23:28:05.182-06:00GB!i've been on an old school kick lately. i'm packing and organizing all my cds but i'm very distracted. how come you never told me american steel ruled so much. it will be september in 30 minutes, and then i can say "NEXT MONTH I WILL FEST!" but until then<br /><br />i can't believe the things we say<br /><br />cant you learn to take a fucking jokeAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-1736348311052387772008-08-30T01:14:00.003-06:002008-08-30T01:43:13.805-06:00i'm checking outWHOA, what a trip. taylor kreuzberger ended up coming down from sonoma to hang out last night. mackenzie stole more vodka which makes me question her sanity. i definitely did not touch that bottle of bullshit. i saw hot water music, and they really really rocked. i took BART from walnut creek and it took me about an hour to get to powell st. then i was so disoriented and get lost a few times walking back and forth on o'farrel trying to find larkin. some dude totally threw me in the wrong direction. i stopped to eat dinner at this pakistani place and had my favorite aloo palak. delicious. the walk was kind of shady, at least for santa fe girl over here. seeing coke all over the carpet in this doorstep off the street. never in santa fe. i tried to ask this woman for directions and she completely ignored me, i figured she thought i was trying to get some spare change, GOD FORBID! fuck you woman. in the red was alright, they kind of tried to force us to enjoy them which was a shame. you can't force fun. mike park ruled. what an awesome dude. and so humble despite everything he has done for punk rock today. he even played a cover of "the crowd" by operation ivy. he came down from the stage to do that. the venue was kind of disappointing, it was just a ballroom, but fucking gigantic. sound sucked. i couldn't hear vocals very well at all. in between in the red and mike park i met this cute british guy who has been traveling around the states for a while. his favorite hot water music album was caution. he went crazy for strike anywhere. i tried to like them. i tried very hard. i just can't do it. SO NEXT WAS HOT WATER MUSIC. they started playing all this flamenco stuff when they went on stage. we were being filmed the whole time, and having photos taken. i was at the front, but the stage was so high, almost up to my neck. it strained your neck to look up at the band for that long. people crowd surfing. it's been a long time since i've been at a show where people were enthusiastic enough to do that. or allowed to. i realize it is no longer 1981 and punk rock is not like it was, i mean i guess i realize this but i would never really know. bad scene, everyone's fault. i got fairly beat up and i'm pretty sore right now, which is always just a reminder days later of an awesome show from days past. they totally ruled, they played almost all of my favorite songs. they played "manual" and it was glorious. encore shmencore. played late, until 11:47. i had to get a cab to take me back to walnut creek because BART would be closed by the time i got to the station. i called mackenzie and said i'd pay her $20 for gas if she came and got me but wouldn't, how frustrating, so i hailed a cab and he charged me $93 plus the $12 tip i gave him because driving that far sucks. and i don't really know what cab tips are supposed to be like. i finally get back to the motel shhix and meet up with kenze and taylor and we hang out go to jack in the box eat good curly fries and head back. then mackenzie leaves for the night and taylor stays with me, but mackenzie, the next morning, i don't know what was up with this but she kept saying her dad was making her clean her room and do chores for hours. sounded like bullhonkey to me. taylor and i ended up going to berkeley and exploring. i bought some kickass animal stickers and some MORE vinyl, and taylor and i both got bracelets. then ate falafel and came back. then i raced to get my bags and get back on bart after taylor went home so i could catch my flight. i got there 20 minutes before scheduled departure. what a relief. read cometbus listening to pissed jeans and hot water music the entire flight back. i think aaron cometbus has made me realize many things. i forgot about who i was. this is hard to explain. but read this zine. plus i love hearing greyhound stories, they never grow old. hopefully someday i will have some of my own that don't end with my demise, with like a displaced head or something. and now after a solid length of a hydroplane back to rainy santa fe i am ready to start thinkingAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-24299655469299374882008-08-28T15:39:00.002-06:002008-08-28T15:45:43.533-06:00hungry for MOREtomorrow i return to santa fe. BUT FIRST. tonight i'm seeing hot water music! and strike anywhere. who can suck my dick. and in the red, who i've never heard of but apparently they're playing the fest too. and mike park. (he's the asian man) so i'll be departing on my adventure to the heart of san francisco in a few hours. i need to get some CASH though, gotta remember, in case i need to take a cab home. "home" AND tonight taylor is coming down from sonoma to hang out with me and mackenzie and i haven't seen her in 6 months. I'M SO EXCITED!!! today is awesome day. last night i was drunk and i think i took a walk in my socks cause now they're dirty socks and they're brand new and i'm bummed but it can't ruin awesome dayAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-66939128228836215442008-08-26T22:45:00.002-06:002008-08-28T15:35:56.945-06:00HERE I GO AGAIN ON MY OWNi have one hell of a month ahead of me. i'm going to make a vague itinerary for my own organizational sake. currently i am at a motel 6 in walnut creek, california. yesterday i went out when mackenzie had to work and took mister BART all the way to the mission neighborhood and walked around there for a bit. i met an old man with an organic television and he put on a politically charged and good humored puppet show for me. then i had the most epic falafel ever, a "falafel deluxe," which i chose over a "falafel regular." it came with eggplant and potatoes and onions and spicy sauce and cucumbers and was a brick. and i drowned slowly. then i walked around eating this thing and put the rest back in my purse. (YEAH I HAVE A PURSE WELL IT'S A BAG OK) next i found this really cool D.I.Y. store with all kinds of zines and books and clothes and some local music i had never really heard of and cool art. i bought an archive of the first 20 years of cometbus, and i've been slowly making my way through it. awesome. it is. so then i went (and i think all of these events are out of order, i think cometbus came before falafel, but does it look like i care?) and saw WARCHILD, which was a bosnian/german film about this woman who lost her child in the war in the 90s and she goes out to find her... and i won't ruin the rest but it was pretty good. so then i headed back. cool deal.<br /><br />and now for my MASTER PLAN:<br /><br />so i get back late on the 29th. hope wants to meet up with me in el paso for our juarez escapade. i would want to go straight from albuquerque, spend the night there at someone's house, and drive down 4 hours the next morning. but i don't have my passport, so i'd have to drive an hour north to my house and then 5 hours south. 2 hours out of the way. but i need a passport so it's what i gotta do. i think we will be spending the weekend there. just a few days.<br /><br />then i must pack like crazy for school. in the span of 4 days. (does that make sense? i speak good english, i swear)<br />boring boring boring will probably forget very important things lalalala oi<br />and maybe zozobra but it kind of sucks and i hate drunk teenagers (like myself) so why would i go<br /><br />SEPTEMBER 7TH i drive up to denver all alone which i am stoked for because driving alone is pretty pretty good. hot water music that night! then i guess i am caravaning with noah and mike but i don't know the deal, maybe go to sedona and the grand canyon and the greater regions of utah and then through nevada... i kind of wanted to see if i could stop wherever jackson is in california, arcata i think, and see him... so we'll see. i want to get to manda's around the 15th so i can chill out for a few days before i have to deal with all this crazy shit i'm going to have to deal with like meeting new people, how daunting.<br /><br />and hopefully sometime all the time everytime i go to seattle i can chill with cassie because she is the shark pants<br /><br /><br />i wanted to add something<br />a deep fear of mine<br />is that someone will be using my computer and go on dictionary.com and look at all the words i've looked up and be like "what the hell she didn't know what eradicate meant until recently?"<br /><br />yeah.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-32386419720615068152008-08-22T19:05:00.001-06:002008-08-22T23:09:07.399-06:00oh the irony of being in big sur with my father.<br /><br />i feel insecure lately. or embarrassed. i kind of hate myself right now. for the past week. whatever, hopefully this will pass soon.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-40306533082990683072008-08-20T23:08:00.001-06:002008-08-20T23:09:45.959-06:00i went to cannery row today and there were no friendly chinese grocers nor a bustling whorehouse. damnAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-43581678623377490042008-08-18T01:56:00.002-06:002008-08-18T02:20:56.602-06:00,,,brahDUDE. totally just got back from CHINE. was definitely one of the best experiences of my life. i was with a lot of intelligent people and it was really refreshing. it was kind of weird, actually, to be around people where we don't end up talking about UNBELIEVABLY DANK ELECTRIC BONGS by the end of every conversation. every time i travel i am reminded about how much i love to travel. when i'm at home for a while i tend to forget this. i will continue to pursue my interest of history and anthropology this fall. so yeah, not taking the "imagining the body" program anymore. although gender studies, sociology and psychology are very relevant, no denying. plus when i travel i have escaped american society. i've noticed when i'm in the states i always end up looking at people and being able to classify them so easily. of course mine is sheer judgement and it's most likely callous and harsh, wrong too, but people do do this to themselves. maybe it is just this town. arid arid arid arid town. i've been a hermit for the past week or so. I'M ON A WEE THREAD. so fuck the world. i feel really awesome. i think i have changed a lot over the past six weeks. i'm at ease, it seems. holding onto myself until it's time to move out. i feel less awkward, to say the least. and more comfortable. like all these past years i've been wishing that things were like this and now they are and it's unusual. i think i learned a lot about myself in china. more than i ever learned at uinta. i guess it clicked. it's pretty hard to describe, kind of fantastic, i don't know. maybe it will last. maybe it will burn out. next summer i'm thinking some epic traveling will ensue. buddy?<br /><br />I AM EXCITED FOR LIFE:<br />- camp with noah and michael in the woods tomorrow<br />- ben's wedding / THE OCEAN IN BIG SUR<br />- san francisco with mackenzie / HOT WATER MUSIC<br />- HOT WATER MUSIC in denver<br />- road trip to manda's on my own!<br />- OLYMPIA AHOY / learn shit about cool shit / stealing boats and smellin salty again<br />- 5985908332 awesome shows because bands actually tour the northwest<br />- THE FUCKING <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">FEST FEST FEST FEST THE FEST THE FEST</span> I LOVE YOU hell yeah :)Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-9906162917723849302008-06-21T23:51:00.001-06:002008-06-21T23:52:43.754-06:00it's so satisfying to blame everything that isn't working on the town you live in<br />like it's a living being<br />STRANGLING YOUAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-20245357838883430152008-06-20T00:53:00.003-06:002008-06-20T01:00:57.242-06:00mophead boysometimes i feel like i have too many e-friends. I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE. i bought my plane ticket to orlando today. $451. eeks. luckily i had that much and still have $100 to spare. i'm selling buttloads of my stuff. even some against me vinyl. *gasp* whatever, hot water music has totally bumped them out of my heart. i had a tarot card reading yesterday. i don't even know how i feel about that stuff but it was kind of intense. i was told that right now my life is a little out of balance and that things are going to come together and i'm going to change dramatically. into a mature, open person. and i'm going to find new passions. no time for relationships right now. and i'm going to look back on this as one of the best years of my life. "have an awesome year!" fuck yeah. it encourages my already prominent enthusiasm for life right now. tomorrow i'm going to a lake to go swimming. i'm so excited. it will be awesome. swimming is so rad. AHHH THINGS ARE SO EXCITING RIGHT NOW BUT THIS CITY IS EATING ME ALIVE.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-31267944973223940142008-06-15T20:25:00.006-06:002008-06-16T02:52:47.072-06:00fucking operation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper920/stills/3eff6e4c3dd60-61-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper920/stills/3eff6e4c3dd60-61-1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />hunger happens. that is why there is chocolate cake. i've been sleeping so late lately. going to bed 3/4ish and waking up around one. i don't think i like it. it's so hot too. and it's a dry heat. i feel like my skin is falling off when i go outside. gross. that is new mexico for you. my week has been awesome, though. i've been busier. i think i may want to ride again. i just don't want to go back to las campanas. i don't know how that will work. but it will give me something to do. that rocks. i'm pretty stoked about going to china. some dude called me, who is going on the trip with me, and he seems pretty cool. i was probably a butthead though, because, after going to the grand prix de santa fe earlier this afternoon, i've been small talked-out. i should pack, but i won't. because i will PROCRASTINATE. i bought the sigur ros dvd, it's so good. i want to go to iceland now. it is so gorgeous. it seems like a good soundtrack to that kind of place. i think i will go take a hike tomorrow. oh yeah, i'm seeing fucking HOT WATER MUSIC in august. in san francisco. <span style="font-size:180%;">FUCKING HOT WATER MUSIC. <span style="font-size:100%;"></span></span>Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-59637697002215297832008-06-09T21:54:00.002-06:002008-06-09T22:01:49.193-06:00the body of the BIIIIRD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiq8zshdUKg8x7vkOJSDplSiY9Dgqp-65frq0rVcvQPX7bqWK993UjFkN1A8nVd4wXyWSkWQzJgt69mw8IX7mucBl-5uIse1BpcPo-i6Urwzra6ior1_THBHXbLngoKXYvo33WXPv86vKb/s1600-h/paarden.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiq8zshdUKg8x7vkOJSDplSiY9Dgqp-65frq0rVcvQPX7bqWK993UjFkN1A8nVd4wXyWSkWQzJgt69mw8IX7mucBl-5uIse1BpcPo-i6Urwzra6ior1_THBHXbLngoKXYvo33WXPv86vKb/s320/paarden.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210096305945088674" border="0" /></a><br />i think it's lame that i've been so bored lately. i've been selling a lot of my shit though, and it's pretty satisfying. so far i have about $380 saved up. looked online for plane tickets, there's one from seattle to orlando, direct. overnight! whoa. seems intense. i'm waiting for my friend blair to call me. she's supposed to arrive here today. but she never told me what time she was getting into albuquerque. i hope it's not super late. i'm tired. i was hoping to go in the daytime so i could go to flying star and get me some new razorcake. so i ended up reading mrr in border's here instead. i think that zine is just too punk for me. AHHHHHHHH! so i guess i'm gonna start a distro or something. aka just spend a whole lot of money. but the good music must be shared. i wish i were riding those ponies in the picture.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-24021451826628118052008-06-07T00:47:00.003-06:002008-08-31T23:22:59.231-06:00GET THRASHED<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKb9c0fObtzDLHCwh1idy3SMk2rxq5XHSzuiFdnoxmPYyrEKJJck4t7RUpLJb7aKitF2-yjMVi6Dkg2px-BUV8iXBD-5O5_VJgj1qP-rQLzSK3iBQmFDVGbWRMqXnW0G6gS-DsEZYSbAOv/s1600-h/DSCF4278.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKb9c0fObtzDLHCwh1idy3SMk2rxq5XHSzuiFdnoxmPYyrEKJJck4t7RUpLJb7aKitF2-yjMVi6Dkg2px-BUV8iXBD-5O5_VJgj1qP-rQLzSK3iBQmFDVGbWRMqXnW0G6gS-DsEZYSbAOv/s320/DSCF4278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209030512546185778" border="0" /></a><br />saw the immortal X tonight. good show. better than i expected. not much else to say about that. punk rules. i am seriously awesome. more awesomer than ever. whoa. rode my bike up calle nopal (hill of death) and up past the landfill. i am so exhausted. i was almost dying in the pit at x too. but i held up. i found a song about santa fe by small brown bike/the casket lottery:<br /><br />Driving through your childhood,<br />and all the stories that youve told me since we first met.<br />I get the feeling that you're forgetting to tell me what you're trying to forget.<br />As we walk across the park on the iced over grass<br />you start to talk about all the times when,<br />and all the nights when, and the underneath us breaking like glass.<br />This is the park where you fell asleep, and couldnt tell if it was a dream,<br />when you opened your eyes and saw the man hiding in the trees.<br />This is the street where the woman died,<br />she had the problem of being too sweet,<br />and how naive of me to think I couldnt get homesick in a week.<br />All the sweethearts here litter the streets, the liberal and artistic minds.<br />They walk hand and hand and kiss each others cheeks when they meet.<br />They have got everything in common and the conversations never stop,<br />they've all got the one about running all night from the campus cops.<br />But behind the trees at the overpass-a girl was once crushed by a train,<br />running to catch up with her friends, her life turned into one day.<br />And the town carries on-and the town heals with time,<br />everyone tries so hard to chase these ghosts from their mind.<br />And how naive of me to think that i couldnt get homesick in a week.<br />It starts to snow as the quartet down the street warms up the strings.<br />I'm in the wrong hometown.<br />It feels like its time to leave.<br />I'm in the wrong hometown for Christmas Eve.<br /><br />it is painful. that's perspective for you, right there. so the fest is on halloween this year. i gotta be something super rad. no idea what.<br /><br />shorebirds are awesome. get the 7". jawbreaker/latterman madness.<br /><br />and i'm trying very hard not to be bored.<br /><br />things are awesome in some aspects. aspects that haven't been awesome for almost 2 years. how refreshing. feearAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-71575170376718711762008-06-04T19:51:00.002-06:002008-06-04T19:59:56.842-06:00creepiest motherfucker ever today. what a fucking asshole. navona asks this guy to help us with my bike rack and he is totally throwing around all of this sexist bullshit, "well of course, i'm a man." and saying how "engineeringly inclined" he is. all this whole time i'm standing in the backround knowing exactly how to do it but afraid this clown will do something weird if i dare assert myself. when we get the bike off, he stays there and watches me screw it back in and i tell him that i've got it, i don't need his help, i'm fine. and then i get pissed. AND THEN he starts saying how he wished he had a camera to take pictures of two chicks and their bikes. WHAT THE FUCK? biggest asshole i've ever probably encountered. condescending sexist bullshit. what an asshole. what an asshole.Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-26038473200217651672008-05-28T01:20:00.004-06:002008-05-28T01:30:53.799-06:00high life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a309/lastyearsmodel/jeremyenigk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a309/lastyearsmodel/jeremyenigk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />i want to meet my doppelganger. we would sit together on the futon and listen to all our favorite bands. and it would be completely non-objectionable. and then we would talk about life. and we would relate about so much. and our paranoia would drive us up the wall when the sun went down. so then we'd turn on the night light. because that's what we do. and most importantly, we would engage in the mightiest embrace.<br /><br />it's one of those intangible things. like nature. i guess that's where tree hugging comes from. we channel our religious energy outwards and whabam the universe shits out a hippy. every little thought or emotion is scratching inside of our tiny bodies, just dying to manifest itself in some inappropriate fashion.<br /><br />or...<br /><br />i might just be crazy.<br /><br />i think it's lame that i have a desire, not to fall madly in love with anyone, but just to meet someone who listens to the same music as i do. and then fall madly in love with them. FEST FEST FEST 7 7 7 ! ! ! take me to your leader! grrrawwwfAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-91468835558794214272008-05-22T00:06:00.000-06:002008-05-22T00:07:03.140-06:00untitledbrightside37: you are the worst vegan ever<br />brightside37: naming your poonie kielbasa like thatAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-87040659782972281502008-05-19T19:38:00.003-06:002008-05-19T20:09:59.793-06:00xenophobia xenophobia, fucking up your utopia<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1O-Wa-K-w420GWfrTEZWaQXMnTtR_4xh2YkP2I5QQefC5vL6gUJk5yMCS6UuHbmrlxDffHpSwjzs8OSJZqx1ipVQEsfSDN4-12z9QpS4zEt_T5xhChgc3chuQ9DjiPblCO8bNXoLoBo-/s1600-h/P5160001.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202270497969744626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1O-Wa-K-w420GWfrTEZWaQXMnTtR_4xh2YkP2I5QQefC5vL6gUJk5yMCS6UuHbmrlxDffHpSwjzs8OSJZqx1ipVQEsfSDN4-12z9QpS4zEt_T5xhChgc3chuQ9DjiPblCO8bNXoLoBo-/s320/P5160001.JPG" border="0" /></a> unfortunately, veronica mars is over. i've been debating whether or not i should start it again. BUT THAT IS RIDICULOUS, and i must move on. i have been meaning to "...blog" for the past while but it just has not happened. i hate the term "...blog." apparently i'm in oregon. once again. plagued with vicious episodes of nausea and romantic up-chucking. therefore i return to the motherland on wednesday. and then off to white sands my family and i go (including a mother who hates spending more than 5 minutes being with her husband and daughter)... WHOOOOOAAAA i am pushing the limit) but seriously my inner cosmonaut self beckons and to alamogordo we venture on. freeze dried food? hell yeah! i smell pizza.<br /><br />so i can pretty much get used to the region known familiarly as the pacific northwest. i cannot emphasize how excited i am to go to college. i went to the academic advising day. i'm taking a program called imagining the body. as shown on evergreen website:<br /><br /><em>"We do not have bodies; we are bodies. We do not move; we are movement." –Emilie Conrad-Da'oud<br />Our bodies are physically and socially constructed entities that influence our identities. The way we move, adorn, and utilize our bodies all reflect and also help shape our sense of who we are, most notably in terms of our gender and sexuality. In a way, our appearance is linked with our essence. But how have bodies been used and understood over time and across cultures? Throughout history, the significance of the body and its relationship to individual and group identity has been socially constructed in ways that have had profound impacts on power and gender dynamics.<br />This two-quarter program will take a historical and cross-cultural look at how our notions of gender and sexuality are embodied in our experiences through an examination of topics such as pain, pleasure, fashion, prostitution, body modification, aging, ability, standards of beauty and reproduction. We will primarily focus on the gradual creation of modern Western perceptions of the body from the middle ages to the present, using cross-cultural examples for comparison. Case studies might include the medieval Catholic cult of saints' relics, the rage for exotic costuming in pre-revolutionary France, the struggle between enslaved people and their owners for the physical control of slave bodies in the 19th century U.S. South, changing standards of masculine and feminine beauty in 20th century America and Europe, and contemporary attitudes towards body modification and transgender/transsexuality. Cross-cultural examples may include foot binding in early modern China, puberty rituals across eras and societies, and the relationship between adornment and ritual in selected non-Western cultures.<br />Grasping the significance of the body involves studies of personal psychology and physiology as well as studies of historical, social and cultural variations in experiences and identities. We must recognize how our own bodies and identities are located within a particular social, cultural and historical context. In this program, all of our work will be guided by our ability to develop a grounded understanding of our own bodies and internal authority. To that end, we will engage in regular, serious experiential movement workshops to begin the work of coming to know our bodies and our external reality through our bodies. Through an understanding and embodiment of somatic concepts such as awareness, intention, centering, authenticity, and the interplay of mind and body, students will have the opportunity to create an awareness of self from their own life processes, rather than from externally imposed images, standards and expectations. They will be invited to explore and enjoy the dance already going on inside their bodies, and to learn to perceive, interpret and trust the natural intelligence of intrinsic bodily sensations. Movement workshops will help us become more sensitive to our inner world by exploring breath, sound, and fluidity.<br />In addition to these experiential workshops, we will also develop our understanding of embodied identities through lectures, disciplinary workshops, films, and a series of guest speakers. Students should expect to engage in weekly critical book seminars, regular writing assignments, in-depth research and writing projects, independent and collaborative work, and regular </em><br /><em>program discussion.</em><br /><br />not sure what i want to do with it, but it is interesting to me.<br /><br />i took a walk today. down by the river and then i found a perfect, plump and luscious meadow and proceeded to sit and ponder for an hour. it was really peaceful. but i'm always paranoid. i hear something crunching on the pine needles and my instant assumption is "OMG ED GEIN!" seriously i am scared shitless of a lot of people and possibilities in this world. i am also scared of odds. but nature was welcoming as usual. it would be nice to place some of the world's most powerful figures each in their separate piece of the woods for as long as it would take for them to pass some stupid act to promote sustainability. facts are terrifying. FACTS ARE NOT FICTION. fact / fiction fiction / fact ... i need some good ole' ECO-THERAPY:<br /><br /><br /><em>Ecotherapy is based on the emerging field of ecopsychology, which looks at the relationship between our mental/emotional/spiritual health and our culture's increasing disconnection from the natural world. <br />Ecotherapy challenges what Steven Foster and Meredith Little call "The Big Lie"--the belief that we are somehow separate from and superior to nature. This belief leads us to fear those things that we can't rationally explain or control--and leads us to destroy the Earth, our only home. <br />We have plenty of information about environmental destruction. And yet it continues. Many of us walk around with a tremendous sense of guilt and despair as we watch trees uprooted to make way for another MacDonalds, as we drive along the highway littered with the bodies of animals who are losing their habitat. <br />And yet despair, guilt, even anger aren't enough to motivate the majority of us to make the radical changes that are needed to turn this around. It's when we're in touch with our love for the natural world that we can truly get moving. And of course, it's really self-love, since we're part of it all.<br />So how does ecotherapy address that? Ecotherapy helps people find balance, connection, guidance, and healing through deepening their relationship with the natural world. This could be as simple as taking a walk every day, paying attention to seasonal changes; or joining with others to clean up a local stream--all the way up to solo fasts in the wilderness. <br />The practice of ecotherapy helps us to see our personal needs and wants within the web of life--to find ways to honor all our relations.</em><br /><em></em><br />dude totally just like the day i found out that global warming was happening, i ran straight into the bathroom with a bottle of valium<br /><br />but ended up only touting it around like a salt-shaker to christen the linoleum floorAmy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-21477958819396260602008-04-27T22:43:00.004-06:002008-04-28T10:51:13.170-06:00i feel like i'm in costco<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ-9dGy8g3IDNEJKJrCLz8PiHmkvxbNcSXpzpGg77pPyykaLYS7cmaBOCbALMsQqcF5elDt1QUtJDpm1QUWbOP8Z38TPOZ1oEXGejuI70cIyc6Cx7qVhzS96HfOsFZRsBMUGJoYttMgdk/s1600-h/IMGP0607.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXQ-9dGy8g3IDNEJKJrCLz8PiHmkvxbNcSXpzpGg77pPyykaLYS7cmaBOCbALMsQqcF5elDt1QUtJDpm1QUWbOP8Z38TPOZ1oEXGejuI70cIyc6Cx7qVhzS96HfOsFZRsBMUGJoYttMgdk/s320/IMGP0607.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194153537764812050" border="0" /></a>kanye west show was last night. with n.e.r.d. and lupe fiasco. what a shitfest. navona and i arrived at journal pavilion around 8 pm and parked with the holy guidance of men with large glowing wands way the fuck in the boonies. we head towards the tentacle-like arch and see the biggest slut you can imagine, not sure if she was a hooker or what, should've brought my ak. angry, drunken new mexicans abound in their natural habitat. especially over going to take a piss in the port-a-potty. we go after this chick touches our asses to make sure we're NOT loaded with aks. we head to the beer line. no success. faggy frat boy is not up for that. so ice water it is to get drunk off of this fresh evening. so lupe fiasco gets on and i don't even know that it's lupe fiasco because i don't know who lupe fiasco is, except for that superstar song or whatever. pretty lame. but we get into it and everyone thinks we're assholes. sweet. then next is n.e.r.d. who put on probably the worst, most sexist thing i've ever seen in my entire life. he picks about 10 "sexy mamas" from the expensive seat section and they all get on stage and dance like they do on those spring break MTV shows. seriously, i didn't know these people actually existed. self-degradation to it's finest. so let's check out the lyrics to this danceable lady song and another one too:<br /><br />her off beat dance makes me fantasize<br />(her curves) she's sexy!!<br />her ass is a spaceship i want to ride<br />(her ass) she's sexy!!<br />(i like it when you're wet baby) ehh<br /><br />chicks nickname me prador; they get high off my dick<br />i take 'em to my home, they call it the 'cock-pit'<br />time for take off - they panties they drop quick<br />now that's first class fuckin', ain't that some fly shit?<br /><br />and chicks drop their panties for this shit? WHERE IS THE LIGHT? please respect yourselves and your own fucking dignity, ladies.<br /><br />it is a fucking joke. seeing these dudes that are so far away that look like mice dance around on stage. how can you even get into that? and where's the community? when i get the stink eye for bumping into you at a show. not that you don't know this, hypothetical blog reader. IT'S ABOUT FUCKING SHIT UP! where i come from. this is what people do in america. they get down to dancing mice. it took kanye west's army of 5000 a half an hour just to set up his black phantom aesthetic light show props. deliverance!<br /><br />but you can't say i didn't have it coming. grrr.<br /><br />anyway, to make up for that, sweet house show today at las campanas or somewhere equally decadent. <a href="http://www.craftyrecords.net/brookpridemore.cfm">brook pridemore</a> and <a href="www.myspace.com/wingnutdishwashersunion">wingnut dishwashers union</a>. cool shit. 'nuff said. sorry this isn't more interesting. no, wait. I'M NOT SORRY THIS ISN'T MORE INTERESTING. FUCK YOU. AND YOUR OPINIONS.<br /><br />ps i an unbelievably stoked for asian man tour 08<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://andrewjacksonjihad.com/other%20images/tour%20flyer.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 549px; height: 397px;" src="http://andrewjacksonjihad.com/other%20images/tour%20flyer.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a>Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2414010840905225670.post-60570649206505732002008-04-22T09:02:00.004-06:002008-04-22T10:02:48.453-06:00if that's what they call normal...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78HBo52nOJIxGnakQyYcll5GeAgUKAfgrU0NVRqujGuOI5JRXCaCYk6fwJi2KmPuSm0mY3Kz_0isN-S8GAYv3nQpiPSCov71rBLEOIOg8hBrbvfFfMtBVJh7aerZO-HdGzhZbosLq2j6s/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78HBo52nOJIxGnakQyYcll5GeAgUKAfgrU0NVRqujGuOI5JRXCaCYk6fwJi2KmPuSm0mY3Kz_0isN-S8GAYv3nQpiPSCov71rBLEOIOg8hBrbvfFfMtBVJh7aerZO-HdGzhZbosLq2j6s/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192099508310205682" border="0" /></a><br />yesterday was a non-eventful. i displayed my desire to drive around blasting old mixes from freshman year, which turned out to be almost completely full of green day or at least any bad that is closely related to green day. on the first mix i put in, track 1 was green day, track 2 was pinhead gunpowder, track 3 was the network, and track 4 was the frustrators. later on i discovered another mix that was almost entirely ska. and entirely skerrible.<br /><br />my list of things to do consisted of this (as so not to drive completely "aimlessly," as my mother likes to refer to it):<br />1. hello, i have a 40% off coupon for a dvd at borders. not to mention i kind of want a copy of hot water music by bukowski and recipe for disaster by someone else. so i go and scope it out, turns out there's really no dvd worth buying because i rarely watch things twice (except for free willy, but i'm kinda over that now). and i figure that it's cheaper to buy nothing at all than to give in to their coupon anyway. so i quickly browse the books and conclude for the thousandth time that they are way overpriced and i head out to the bookstore on the corner of read and guadalupe. there i peruse through some steinbeck and virginia woolf, but i end up in the world history section. i have three interesting finds:<br /> 1. <span style="font-style: italic;">the intellectual adventures of ancient man</span><br /> 2. <span style="font-style: italic;">middle east conflicts</span><br /> 3. <span style="font-style: italic;">the palestinians in perspective<br /></span>so far so good.<br />2. next stop is double-take, the thrift store. still very over-priced, as are most things in santa fe. i'm here for a very long time. but after trying on 5 items, only one fit; a light grey 3/4 length shirt that says "WYOMING" in big red letters with a guy riding a bronc on it. omgsoindie. it's pretty cool. and it fits. imagine that!<br />3. next thing i know i have this unbelievable thirst for all things drinkable. the aztec is right across the street, but i want something cold, and their cold drinks don't appeal to me for once in my life. THEREFORE I MUST GO TO SONIC. i really want a cherry limeade. i get to sonic and change my mind and end up ordering a gigantic strawberry slushie instead. pretty satisfying.<br />4. i head down to agua fria and then to siler road to find the solid waste management building. i need a recycling bin. i find it but i'm not sure if it really is it and i keep circling and these dudes keep looking at me like i'm straight up loco, bro. so i get out and open the door and it's just a bunch of rooms and a vending machine and a vibe that says i'm really not supposed to be there. i noticed the bins through this gate, so i walk on and take one. mission accomplished.<br />5. the mall. i saw this tank top at... victioria's secret a month or so ago and now i'm finally interested in it. my tank top collection is lagging because my shirts are all mysteriously too short for me. so i scope it out and it turns out the shirt is an ugly piece of shit and that it costs FORTY DOLLARS. damnations! so i proceed to lenscrafters when all the sudden i see this weird as shit kid with this fitted hat, pin straight thick black bangs covering his right eye, a slipknot shirt, and those weird "bondage" pants. and he seemed to take himself very quickly. i walked away before i could see him get down on his knees and bow down to his pagan hot topic god. lenscrafters was busy and i go to pearle vision instead. on the way this guy in one of those booths they have in the middle of the mall says very loudly, "HEY, HOW ARE YOU DOING?" so i say that i'm doing good and walk along. and then i thought it would be pretty damn funny if i ever scored a date in the mall the only time i've been to the mall here in probably a year. but no. i'm sure he wanted to sell me a cell phone. so i get my sunglasses cleaned and adjusted and then i go back to the car.<br />6. i decide to go to whole foods. i wanted to go to the co-op, but i wanted a candle and didn't want to go a bunch of different places, so i went to whole foods. i got soft tofu, vegan peanut butter cookies, vegan chocolate chips, tahini, and an earth scented candle. it is quite nice. i have mixed feelings about whole foods.<br />7. i have film to pick up at visions but i don't have enough money so i race home and i race back when my mom doesn't have any cash either so i conclude that i'll have to use the card. i got 5 rolls developed and it cost $70. and about 20 pictures came out okay because (now coming to the conclusion) my camera is jank. i think it has a delay with the shutter because they were mostly overexposed.<br /><br />that's basically it for my extreme errand run. i went to the <a href="http://www.bitchmusic.com/">bitch</a> + <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.excitingconclusion.com">the exciting conclusion</a> show at backroad around 8:30. it was really really good and i highly recommend that you all give them a listen. kind of ani difranco, indigo girls, but angrier and more political. i hate comparing.<br /><br />then when i returned i soaked in the hot tub and watched an episode of veronica mars. and went to sleep.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Amy Reid Staffordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08290543307609984247noreply@blogger.com0