Music I've Listened To: "Acid Tongue," by Jenny Lewis

Wandering off from the more upbeat melodies of "Under the Black Light" down a dusty road filled with twang and sexually-charged energy, Jenny Lewis pays homage to the likes of late Johnny Cash and even good ol' Dolly with the album "Acid Tongue."

This album is much darker in tone than "Rabbit Fur Coat," evoking some pretty twisted imagery as the guitar strums right along with Lewis' signature coo. We get hints of drug use, sexual frustration, and even suicide contemplation from her here--it's as though she took these minor hints off of "Under The Black Light"'s tracks and decided to come right out and declare them in a different form, and alt. country seems the perfect fit.

Some great appearances from M. Ward, Zooey Deschanel, and Elvis Costello make the album absolutely sublime and set the tone perfectly. Every track seems to recall mistakes made or lovers lost, and Lewis really hits a vocal stride here and gives us the full spectrum of her abilities. This is the kind of music you want on a night of bad karaoke in the wrong part of town in some dive cowboy bar where it's just you and the whiskey-slinging bartender reminiscing about how life used to be (if it ever really was like that).

Self-reflexive tracks like "Pretty Bird" and the album's title track show us there's definitely more going on in Lewis' head than the usual boot-stomping country stuff, and that this is only the beginning.

Go Download: "Acid Tongue," "Pretty Bird," "Black Sand"

3.5/5 starxx

Stop and smell the somethings.

Life is full of beautiful, weird, and surprising little moments that you don't realize are happening until they've already happened.

Like when you watch a movie from years ago that you haven't seen since you were a kid, and you understand a joke in the movie that you didn't get before (example: all of the references to Streisand's 'Funny Girl' that happen in 'Mrs. Doubtfire').

Or when a song you're listening to in your car has a beat that matches the motion of the windshield wiper blades (The Pierces' "Boy in a Rock N' Roll Band" goes great with the second setting in my car).

Or when you see a small child randomly grab ahold of their parent and tell them "I love you" for seemingly no reason, right there in public, with little motivation to do so.

Or when you sit down with a glass of wine and three Advil at the end of a shitty day at work (my "bad day at the office" regiment) and let out that first sigh of relief because you're at home, in a safe place, and no longer at the mercy of the world's assholes.

I've started to write these moments down as soon as I can remember them. They might creep on to this blog from time to time. You have been warned.

PS-Go watch the Lady GaGa/Beyonce video for Beyonce's new song "Videophone" because it too is one of life's weirdly beautiful little moments. The song isn't half bad, either.


"I heard you crying loud
all the way across town
You've been searching for that someone,
and it's me out on the prowl
As you sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

The Life Elusive

Gah! Nearly a whole month without blogging? Shame on me. Not that this is inconsistent behavior for me, mind you, but still...

...Actually it sort of fits a behavioral pattern of mine. I always say "I'm going to go do this" and then about two days later I reflect "man, I should've gone and done this." I can blame finances for this current pattern of forgetful missteps--After all, it's hard to be gun-ho about errands and appointments when you're rationing out your bank account daily (if I put ten bucks in my tank, then I have 5 bucks to buy some groceries the day after that, which leaves me 7 bucks to use on a haircut).

However lately the issue with my lack of sterling savings has become more of a crutch (read: excuse) for anything that doesn't seem to go my way. "Well I'm poor, which is why I couldn't afford to drive out to the so-and-so writer's exhibit to network with other writers." It's a lame excuse, really albeit completely understandable. It's one thing I need to change about my life right now.

Another change is that in the past 2 months I've done less exploring of this city I call home. We've lived here for almost 6 months (I know right?) and yet things have sort of fallen flat in terms of checking things out and experiencing new things. Of course finances, once again, can be blamed for this (for consistency reasons). Thus I've decided that every time we get paid, Josh and I are going to have a "date night" somewhere in the city. We'll either shake the ol' Urban Spoon application or hit "random" on 'The Stranger Online' restaurant search engine, set a limit of 2 $$ signs out of 4 $$$$ signs, and then hit the town. The catch is that we'll never go to the same place twice.

Is there a nice sense of comfort in a new place that comes with going to the same places? Sure thing. But even the delicious nom-noms of Jet City Pizza, The Wedgewood Broiler, and I HEART Bento get repetitive after several visits.

Halloween was an absolute, balls-out blast. The Friday beforehand was spent working (of course) during the day and then partying by night. Together with our friend Julie and her boyfriend (also named Ryan, because in my circle of friends there are two of every animal), we went to this surreal warehouse party sponsored by Jones Soda and RIDE Snowboards. I use the word "surreal" because it felt like we were in an episode of 'The Real World' or 'Gossip Girl' or some such glitz-o-rama, fantastical alternate universe. Not only was it in a warehouse in Fremont, but there was no cover charge, free beer(! And it was Pyramid Ale!), free music, free stuff (I won a belt and Josh won a tee shirt), and some guy walking around taking pictures of neat costumes. For our part, we were dressed up as "horror dandies." Meaning gruesome costumes and makeup with fancy attire. I was a skeleton, Josh was a werewolf, Julie was a traditional, Dia De Las Muertas inspired zombie, and otherRyan was a hanged man. The aforementioned fellow taking pictures stopped us and said something like "nice theme!" and proceeded to take several photos for some unknown web site. We're still not sure who he was with or where those photos are posted, actually...

I spent Halloween itself working late into the night and then house partying. Nothing to write home about other than it's nice to be welcomed by other pseudo-adults into a house party where there are both fancy, vegan appetizers and beer pong in the same room. It was a real testament to the stage of life we're all in at the moment: Somewhere between stuff-shirt cocktail parties and spewing in the street after too much binge drinking.

Josh and I went over to West Seattle a few days ago to pick up his art that was showing in the art walk during September/October. No buyers, but a lot of "interest" in his pieces, and exposure is absolutely necessary even if monetary rewards don't emerge as an outcome. We stopped in a record store on California Ave. while we were down there. I don't remember the name of it, but there were also sandwiches and coffee at a cafe inside of it. This bears further investigating.

I think I'm going to make a mix for my friend Alli and try to send it across the Pacific to her in Korea. It's times like these that messenger pigeons would be really cool. Or if I could somehow be assured that if I put it in a bottle and threw it in the sea, it would was ashore just seconds from her apartment building, then I would totally message-in-a-bottle her. I think I;d have to put the mix on a flash drive and put it in the bottle, though. I don't think a CD would fit in there.


"You want me?
Fucking well come and find me.
I'll be waiting
With a gun and a pack of sandwiches.
And nothing."

I go a' walkin' . . .

So I recently finished the entirety of Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman" comic books in their collected forms, and have lately had a weird sense of ennui. Why am I here? Where is this going? What's next for me? Has my life really been reduced to a series of waiting games between paychecks and trying to figure out if I can afford to go out for cheap sushi or a drink?

The answer to all of these questions is the same one: Yes and No.

Yes I am here (and no I'm not). Yes, this is going somewhere (but right now it's not). Yes, something is going to happen next (and no, I won't be able to see what it is). Yes, I play the waiting game and must strain my resources between paychecks and no, I don't exactly hate it. Yes I love cheap sushi and cheap booze. No, I shouldn't spend the money on those things.

Gaiman did a great job of telling stories that were about stories. There were all sorts of stories happening within each other, twisting and turning and tying together in ways that were both telegraphed and unexpected. It's difficult to really understand the enormity of what he wrote. I've read several of those volumes more than once and I still can't quite grasp it all; meaning is right there out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn to look it's completely gone.

Meaning.

So now I wonder where my story goes, or if there is a story to tell at all. I can romanticize it or tell it like it is. Or maybe there's a romantic beauty in just telling it like it is. "What is, is." I'm not sure if there's going to be anything to tell as life continues on for me, but when it does, I'm going to tell it here.

And that's the answer for now.


Spaces and places and faces and traces,
They turn and they turn,
And they all go to pieces.
And I can't describe
What's in front of my eyes.
It's just you.

Fall and Fall things.

Autumn/Fall is my absolute favorite season. A lot of great things have happened to me in the Fall, and a lot of great things happen every Fall regardless. Now that my engagement along with the beginning of Josh and I's relationship is synonymous with the season, it's even got sappy undertones.



Fall's got great beverages like apple cider and orange cocoa and stuff made with rum. It's got great food that you can feel guilt-free about. It's got great movies (our Netflix queue has been dominated by horror and thrillers lately--"The Thing" remake, "Adams Family Values" and "The Unborn" are on their way today). It's got such a friendly atmosphere that Winter can almost match, but only barely.

The thing about Winter is that while the holidays generate that warm and fuzzy feeling in us all, there's still that undertone of commercialism and panic that comes with this need to give and create perfection amongst complete and utter chaos. Anyone who has worked retail during the Christmas season will tell you this--9 hours a day on your feet helping ungrateful people will suck the spirit of the season right out of you, even if you're wearing a gold lapel pin that lights up and plays "Carol of the Bells."

However there's no such obligation during Fall (save the end of the season when American Thanksgiving transitions us into Winter). Yet doesn't it seem like everyone seems friendlier or happier or just a bit more cheerful? It's this electricity in the air that can't be matched. A sense of fun and carefree and routine, really, that's left over from the Summer and needs to burst into the atmosphere before Winter forces us all indoors and out of each other's way. The Fall is our last chance to get out and do something; to travel or take a walk with short sleeves on or get out of the house on a daily basis. It's this unspoken energy that runs along the surface of the days in the Fall that truly makes me love the season.

Not to mention that for Seattle, we've had an absolutely beautiful Fall this year.



Next weekend we're driving out to Coeur d'Alene to see my family. I'm hoping the weather stays strong for our trip. 7 hours is a long drive, but it'll be worth it to see them all for a bit. My family decorates the hell out of their home for Halloween, and I can't wait to see what absurdities my dad has created this year. I have such vivid memories of getting bundled up and decorating the outside of the house with him (really, I'm sure I was running around and un-boxing decorations and causing more distractions then help--yet he still let me "help" in my own way). Although when I was very young it was more likely an apartment or two bedroom rental or duplex; we lived in so many homes when I was small, but my family managed to make every single one feel as homey as possible. Decorating it for Halloween was one way that my parents maintained that sense of normalcy for me.

After an hour or more or when ever the serious decorating had to begin, my mom would scoop me up and put me inside with some apple cider and a snack, and leave me with the television playing Halloween-themed Disney cartoons while she went outside to help my dad finish. I was a pretty self-sufficient kid, or so I've been told. My parents couldn't have been much older than Josh and I are now; they were so young. it would be neat to go back and see if they were anything like us in those early days, fresh out of school with a kid and not much money and not much of a life plan, either.


"I'm dead babe; dead as dead can be.
It's all because a zombie ate me.
You loved me when I was alive,
But now you see that I'm on the other side.
I still wanna go out with you,
But there's something that you've gotta do.
Give your life up and over to me.
Come on, you'll see how happy we can be."