Via Chicago
Blood of the Lamb
Pieholden Suite
California Stars
Company in my Back
You Are My Face
Side with the Seeds
Pot Kettle Black
Shot in the Arm
She's a Jar
Handshake Drugs
Impossible Germany
It's Just That Simple
Pick Up the Change
Too Far Apart
Nothingsevergonnastandinmywayagain
Jesus etc.
Hate It Here
Walken
I'm the Man Who Loves You
--------encore 1--------
Someone Else's Song (Tweedy w/o amplification)
Misunderstood (amazing)
The Thanks I Get
Red Eyed and Blue -> I Got You
Monday
--------encore 2---------
The Late Greats
3.03.2008
2.15.2008
happy valentines day
so for valentine's i went out for vodka, video trivia, and fried pickles.
i love my body. my body does not love me right now.
as i was driving home, i tried to wrap my mind around love. this is always a good idea after three drinks. in a review of the people i have loved (like loved with a capital L) i came to two. these two are buffered on two men i have obsessed over.
like an obsession/love/love/obsession appetizer.
literally.
high school obsession.
college love.
adult love.
adult obsession.
it's kind of like a fried pickle. i mean the greasy outer layer is in no way good for me, but it's so damn enticing. i chase it around the plastic basket, suck it off the pickle and ruin my tongue on how
way
too
hot
it is.
inevitably, the freaky batter screws my stomach up and kills my taste for pickles- which really is the part that i love the most. i mean, i love dill pickles. like a jar at a time love.
and, i love these men. but the obsessions before and after are fucking up my gut.
i love my body. my body does not love me right now.
as i was driving home, i tried to wrap my mind around love. this is always a good idea after three drinks. in a review of the people i have loved (like loved with a capital L) i came to two. these two are buffered on two men i have obsessed over.
like an obsession/love/love/obsession appetizer.
literally.
high school obsession.
college love.
adult love.
adult obsession.
it's kind of like a fried pickle. i mean the greasy outer layer is in no way good for me, but it's so damn enticing. i chase it around the plastic basket, suck it off the pickle and ruin my tongue on how
way
too
hot
it is.
inevitably, the freaky batter screws my stomach up and kills my taste for pickles- which really is the part that i love the most. i mean, i love dill pickles. like a jar at a time love.
and, i love these men. but the obsessions before and after are fucking up my gut.
2.12.2008
my last 24 hours
my downstairs neighbor came up at midnight to talk about her faltering relationship.(kind of knew from the noise)
my clutch went out in the middle of 7:45am downtown traffic.
the tow truck guy witnessed to me during the entire car ride to firestone.
my gynocologist called to say i had an abnormal pap smear, and she has to look at my wassa with a microscope.
can i just go back to sleep?
my clutch went out in the middle of 7:45am downtown traffic.
the tow truck guy witnessed to me during the entire car ride to firestone.
my gynocologist called to say i had an abnormal pap smear, and she has to look at my wassa with a microscope.
can i just go back to sleep?
2.06.2008
first line i'm working with
i used to think that my father ruined our lives; later i realized we did that just fine on our own.
2.04.2008
epiphany 2007
it took a little while.
found it sunday morning during mile 2 on porter road, 37206.
in giving up hope, i gain everything.
that's it.
that's what i learned in 2007.
found it sunday morning during mile 2 on porter road, 37206.
in giving up hope, i gain everything.
that's it.
that's what i learned in 2007.
2.01.2008
what a good boy
this first time i heard the term hair shirt, the barenaked ladies were crooning through the speakers of my 1989 diesel suburban. we were in a parking lot in west nashville near our favorite restaurant, stir fry cafe (AKA spicy noods). we worshipped spicy noods and the ensuing gastrointestinal discord.
anyway, a hair shirt was originally a garment or undergarment made of coarse cloth or animal hair (a hair shirt). the word has come to mean an object that can be worn to induce some degree of discomfort or pain.
last night, hair shirt became revised...
email to a friend:
my date last night had his $238 shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest. what am i going to do?
her response:
what? I got your text about the debate (I was at an event). Who is the guy and why can he not dress? Is it the hoodie guy?
Because a big fat I told you so may be coming your way.
email to a friend:
hoodie guy. super virago type. too designer jeans, a scarf, and a pearl buttoned patterned cowboyish shirt with embroidery. and 7 stark chest hairs peeking from the unbuttoned abyss.
her response:
I am speechless. Actually, I am in disbelief that 1) this species is still in existence and 2) wandered out of his habitat to 37206
men are my hair shirts.
i know before i put them on, it's gonna be itchy and uncomfortable.
anyway, a hair shirt was originally a garment or undergarment made of coarse cloth or animal hair (a hair shirt). the word has come to mean an object that can be worn to induce some degree of discomfort or pain.
last night, hair shirt became revised...
email to a friend:
my date last night had his $238 shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest. what am i going to do?
her response:
what? I got your text about the debate (I was at an event). Who is the guy and why can he not dress? Is it the hoodie guy?
Because a big fat I told you so may be coming your way.
email to a friend:
hoodie guy. super virago type. too designer jeans, a scarf, and a pearl buttoned patterned cowboyish shirt with embroidery. and 7 stark chest hairs peeking from the unbuttoned abyss.
her response:
I am speechless. Actually, I am in disbelief that 1) this species is still in existence and 2) wandered out of his habitat to 37206
men are my hair shirts.
i know before i put them on, it's gonna be itchy and uncomfortable.
1.30.2008
irony to the third power
how can the son of an english teacher/school board commissioner not be able to spell, at all?
why do the things that make the least sense, feel most right?
(and the chuck taylor of that)
why is it the guy who is perfect for a friend chasing me around the mulberry bush? i hope that i can get his bird circling her bush before he tries to pick a berry from mine. it's gonna be sooooo awkward.
why do the things that make the least sense, feel most right?
(and the chuck taylor of that)
why is it the guy who is perfect for a friend chasing me around the mulberry bush? i hope that i can get his bird circling her bush before he tries to pick a berry from mine. it's gonna be sooooo awkward.
1.27.2008
want to
so the guy who bought our bottle of wine at the bar last night has the song "want to" by sugarland, on his MYSPACE page.
get ready to be entertained.
get ready to be entertained.
1.25.2008
yin and yang
i have come to a clear handle on this concept in one respect:
attachment is the expansive to the contractive uncreative.
detachment is the contractive to the expansive creative.
i like being attached.
i like being creative.
i have never brought the two together.
ho hum. what comes to us is not to be understood, but merely accepted.
not that my g.i. tract is paying any attention to my belief system.
my body is a stupid little vehicle. in its pheromonic and recently discordant symphony, it has neglected to note the harmony in my brain.
attachment is the expansive to the contractive uncreative.
detachment is the contractive to the expansive creative.
i like being attached.
i like being creative.
i have never brought the two together.
ho hum. what comes to us is not to be understood, but merely accepted.
not that my g.i. tract is paying any attention to my belief system.
my body is a stupid little vehicle. in its pheromonic and recently discordant symphony, it has neglected to note the harmony in my brain.
1.23.2008
virginia woolf
she had been promised a soft pretzel when she was 8. he had made the promise of refined grain and rock salt in an attempt to shut her up on the way to the smithsonian. this ran her mind as she lit the cigarette in the parking lot of the drug store.
as she drove down the pike, she thought of that lie and the others she had been told. barbie trucks, mocking birds, nicotine. all of these promises worked in her like the buckwheat that was not digesting from dinner.
she promised her stomach that the feeling would go away, that all things came and went. and in the doubling over, in the roll of her gut, she saw the pretzel. it was twisted like the promises that she had made to herself: the lies that are the most truth within us.
as she drove down the pike, she thought of that lie and the others she had been told. barbie trucks, mocking birds, nicotine. all of these promises worked in her like the buckwheat that was not digesting from dinner.
she promised her stomach that the feeling would go away, that all things came and went. and in the doubling over, in the roll of her gut, she saw the pretzel. it was twisted like the promises that she had made to herself: the lies that are the most truth within us.
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