There was a time when I'd have sold my soul for a B-

But now it just pisses me off. Especially when it's in my favorite class. Especially when heading into the final I had an A- and proceeded to write (I thought) a kickass essay.

Sigh.

Fuck it.

Update: Ok, haven't shrugged it off yet. Doing the math, I'd have to have gotten a D on the final to have turned my grade into a B-. Man, do I suck. I'm off to do something I am good at.... like.... ummm.... dammit.

A bald eagle! Dead Guy! A gypsy! An invading Hun! -OR- One Tuesday on Spring Break

Yesterday started off with a bike ride. I haven't ridden one of those things in about six years and I had forgotten just how FUN it is! Grinning and sweating, I pedaled furiously through the nature park down the street from my apartment. It's an ok little place for being out here in 'burbia. When I reached a dead end and turned around, I paused to catch my breath, looked up and saw a bald eagle. Really! Out here in the souless suburbs! My six-year-old former self would have been appalled at my lack of basic skills, though. I took corners like an old pickup with bald tires driven by an 86-year-old woman. Oh well, the scenery was great, the wind through my helmet was great, the air was clean.... I really didn't think the day would get any better.

I came back, sweaty, legs made of rubber. I had barely caught my breath when I remembered that Jenn invited me out to this place called Beulahland for lunch with a few friends from back in the Corvallis days, eons ago. After figuring out that Beulahland started with a B (it sounded like she was saying Lalulaland or something), I MAX'd/bussed across town to find what may be the perfect diner/coffeeshop. My art school grad friends scoffed at the artwork and scoffed at many other things but I'd have died three times over again to have found anything 1/10th as cool as that place out in hellhole Watertown, NY. These people have NO IDEA how lucky they are to live in Portland.

They had Dead Guy on tap (!) so I sucked down beers while everyone else got jittery on their bottomless, $1 cups of coffee. Seriously, I didn't think people could actually get drunk off of coffee, but these folks did it. Once again, I felt like the weird one in the corner, but they're nice people and with enough beer I don't even notice those things anyway. Rowan (an Anthropology major, too!) and I talked about our upcoming school-related travels and Jenn talked about her future squatting endeavors in Europe. I think I got Jenn excited about going to Antarctica one day. Or maybe that was just the beer giving me hope. Seriously, if I die without having seen a penguin in the wild I'm going to be very upset. (No, I don't know how exactly I'm going to be upset when I'm dead, but I'll manage, thank you.)

After figuring out the nearly nonexistant bill (6 people over 3 hours and the tab was in the single digits), Rowan, Jenn and I set off to wander the streets of SE Portland. As we walked (Jenn and Rowan hopping every now and then, me staggered and swaying) and looked at the fancy houses we'll never afford to live in, I thought about how the three of us - three kids from Philomath, OR - had made out pretty well so far in this big, bad world. Our combined travels have taken us to nearly every continent (have any of us been to Australia?), Jenn actually has one of those fancy degree things, Rowan and I suffered through various forms of military hell for years (and, consequently, don't have one of those fancy degree things) and all get by some way or another in the lovely city of Portland.

After Rowan left, Jenn and I sat around in her bus, listening to folk and bluegrass and looking at her pictures from Spain. She then took me to get giant burritos that made me so full that I needed to go home. Immediately. Enroute, I remembered that Gogol Bordello was to play later on. So I hurried home, checked my grades quickly (B MINUS in Environmental Sustainability! grrrr!) and took off again.

to be continued......

Attn Dr. Archaeology Man

We'd like our grades. Thanks,
Students of Anth 102

Update: TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!!! GAHHHHHHHHH!!!

Christ. Well, at least I can ride a bike. Sort of. Stupid school and its stupid grades.

done done DONE!

Finals are over. Not too sure at the results, but it's out of my hands now and therefore I'm happy. Oh, and remember those two papers I struggled to write while the Korean-speaking contruction workers tried to hammer the sanity right out of my head? A's on both of 'em. Ha! *victory dance*

I have to clean this apartment now. I've got around five hours to do so. Wish me luck.

2/3's sigh of relief

Only one more final to go! DAMN glad the archaeology final is over. Funny thing, he gave us the questions two weeks ago and I still had a hard time with it (it was an in-class essay, ok? I'm not THAT dumb!). In the better still department, I caught Hot Guy not just giving me the once-over, but outright staring at me today. Nice way to the end the class, eh?

Just a tad bit more studying to go, and then I have to clean this swine pen I live in, as Dad and the youngest sis and her friend are staying at my place tomorrow so they can drive to the airport the next morning. Sis is 15 and is going to spend spring break in SWITZERLAND. Oh, and ITALY. And a day in FRANCE. Let the hatefest begin.

A quick update

I stayed sober on St. Patrick's day. That's right folks, Sara did not drink herself into a stupor on Hedonist's Day. This, however, was not because I didn't want to drink, but because I ended up having to wait in line for TWO AND A HALF HOURS, to get into the back tent at Kell's. I got in just before Amadan hit the stage and had enough time to down a beer and some food under the leering eye of a large, charcoal Samuel Beckett before they started playing. I think though that it was worth it. People danced from the first note to the last. There were only two assholes in the crowd and they were spotted and thrown out promptly. The bouncer even said, "Yer outta here!" and jerked his thumb back like an umpire. I resisted the urge to point in their faces and yell, "HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" but I sure wanted to.

Today, I attended a huge peace rally/march in Portland. We started off at the waterfront, listened to a few bands and some speakers, then marched around downtown. The police estimated there were 9,000-10,000 people marching! I found out about this at the last second, so I sadly didn't have a witty sign ready like everyone else. Oh well, I wore my desert cammies, my dog tags and pinned my Airborne wings on my leather jacket. Sometime during the march I caught up with Veterans for Peace and got a few buttons from them. There were drums, marching bands, chanting, singing... ahhhhh, it was wonderful. Portland rocks.

Finals this week. The library is open until 1am, so I must go off and study. All this standing in line and marching and stuff has left me so sleepy. Good thing I have a pot of Dead Man's Reach coffee ready!

Hedonism

It's St Paddy's Day. Now, as you may know, I'm not the religious type, so naturally I don't give a crap about St. Patrick. In fact, I'm pretty certain St. Patrick was an asshole. I once had the misfortune of watching an episode of one of those supposedly innocent kids Christian shows called "Veggie Tales." The absolute blatant condensending propaganda was nauseating. They detailed that Patrick was a slave in Ireland and came back because he felt sorry for the poor heathens. The Irish that lived there at the time were depicted as all dressing like leprechaun/pilgrims, had red hair, and talked in high-pitched voices and said, "ohhh!" before every sentence. The narrator with his deep all-knowing voice explained that before St. Patrick came to Ireland to save them all, "the Irish were Pagans, which means they worshipped things like twigs," [zoom to red-headed leprechaun, "ohhhh the twigs!"] "and pond scum." ["Ohhhh, the pond scum!" the red-headed leprechaun exclaims while bowing at the edge of the (green) pond.] It's not often that I'm jaw-droppingly offended, but this was one of those times. My overtly religious buddy Rob was aware of my obvious sudden uncomfortableness and at least tried to make a joke out of it. For once even he may have been a little embarrassed, but probably not.

Anyway, St. Patricks' day, for me, is one great big party with beer and music all day. And in fact, with it arriving on a Friday this year, it's three straight days of party time. Those fuckers inserted religion into a perfectly decent holiday called Winter Solstice, so it's only fair that I refuse to participate in the religious side of this holiday. Unfortunately, poor me has finals next week so I'll have to spend at least Sunday studying. However, Amadan is playing FOUR TIMES this weekend and twice today, so at least I'll get to check that out.

Anyway, it's already four o'clock somehow, so I must get out to the giant party at Kells. See ya in a few days.

Can I quit these people?

Jeezusfugginchrist.... you'd have thought his would've been bigger news: Worst Ever Oil Spill on Alaska's North Slope. Why did I have to read about this originally on the Irish fucking Independent? Why aren't people SCREAMING about this here???

My favorite line from the Independent's article is this: "Initial hopes expressed by BP that the spill was limited to just a few tens of thousands of gallons proved to be over-optimistic, however." That was an OPTIMISTIC hope?

On the bright side, at least his gave me something to turn my grumpiness on to. I almost took it out on the waiter at McMenamin's who ignored me for twenty minutes, but then he turned out to be cute and mumbly-shy and gave me a free beer for my troubles, so I couldn't possibly have been angry with him. There are many ways to this girl's heart, but a surefire express route is free brew.

Now I just have to get over my recent library phobia and trot on back downtown to study. What the hell, I used to spend Friday nights as a teenager in the library. Why am I avoiding it now?

oh.my.god.

So I have this paper due this morning. I stayed up late in an unsuccessful attempt to finish it and now I'm skipping my first class to get it done. First, there was a lawn mower running outside my window and people walking on the roof. Now someone is HAMMERING DIRECTLY ABOVE MY HEAD. Seriously. It's 9:30 in the morning. Don't they realize that maybe - JUST MAYBE - people may be sleeping? WHAT COULD THEY POSSIBLY BE HAMMERING UP THERE??????

Update - Papers aren't due until Thursday. I supppose I deserved this.

Oh, and I HAVE heard that song, Charlie! Although it's been awhile... I wonder if I have that CD, still....

It's on Mule Variations, and yes, I still have it. Oh, and I forgot to mention that the guys banging on my roof this morning were also speaking Korean. Seriously.

Newsflash: Earth Still Spinning

In a shocking article published by livescience.com, Hundreds of Human Genes Still Evolving.

No kidding??? Next thing you'll tell me is that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow! What did we think the genes went on strike or something? "Y'know guys, how long have we been doing this evolution thing? Billions of years? And what have we got to show for it? A buncha bumbly two legged creatures and a whole buncha CO2 in the air. SCREW these people!"

Sigh. And I get my news off the internet because it makes me less upset than when it's on the tv.

Flogging Molly Pt III

Usually I sit through opening bands rather impatiently, checking the time and wondering when in the hell they are going to get off the stage. However, I didn't want the Scotch Greens to stop playing that night. They were that good!

Alas, it had to end and the mayhem that is two road crews transforming the stage from one 8 instrument band to another began. People were scampering this way and that; rolling up cords here, unrolling them there; heaving amplifiers to and fro; and my favorite, the taking down and unfurling of the bands' colors in the back. These modern day sailors have a unique look about them - tattoos, worn out jeans, little-known band t-shirt, and a facial expression that says they know EXACTLY what they're doing and you'd better get the hell out of the way. One of the bands had a girl in the road crew and I was impressed; it's not often you see one of those type!

The wait wasn't as excruciating as it normally is and this probably stems from the fact that although I had an excellent spot, I didn't feel threatened of losing it. No one was trying to shove and arm or limb in some impossibly small space between me and the dude to my left.

They finally hit the stage and went into a song that I'm not sure I've heard live before: "Another Bag of Bricks." I thought it a strange choice for an opening song, but it was fun to sing the "Heyyyyyyyyyyahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" parts. From here the order of the songs gets fuzzy. I will tell you the highlights.

"Factory Girls" On the album, this is a duet with Lucinda Williams, which led to me purchasing one of her albums and henceforth falling in love with her voice. If I could pick a woman to sound like, it'd be her. However, they don't personally own Lucinda and bring her out on tour, so Bridget sang. Not only is Bridget a rippin' fiddle player (and tin whistler) she can SING too! Ahhh, jealousy. Seriously, who wouldn't want to tour around the world playing pirate songs on the fiddle?

"Queen Anne's Revenge" This song was written and sung by Nathen, the bassist. In case you didn't know the Queen Anne's Revenge was Blackbeard's ship. On the album this song feels like getting hit by a tidal wave. It's a pounding calvacade of rhythm and sound. It bashes you back against the seat of your car as you beat on the steering wheel, struggling to navigate through the sea of freeway traffic. (Ok, maybe that's just me) But they've never played it live and this has always left me a little disappointed. So I was fairly BEAMING when the song was announced. I hope my thrashing about was noticed so they might play it more often in the future.

"Worst Day Since Yesterday" I love a band that writes songs that take on new and different meanings for me as time goes by. I used to not really enjoy this song. It was slow and, I thought, kinda wimpy. But as I grew up, I all of the sudden and at once understood it. It's a song about a hangover and it took an actual hangover for me to get it. Poetic, I am not. As Dave said, they hadn't played the song in years but due to the enthusiastic drunk in the front row, they were going to break it out. This made me trés happy, as not only had I not heard it live since the sudden revelation, but on this song Matt crosses the stage with his accordion and plays right in front of where I was standing. Hooray for accordions! There was much swaying in the front row and this was also pleasing.

"Tobacco Island" There was a show or two that I attended after this song was released where it wasn't played and that made me quite sad. However, the past two shows now they have played it, so I hope this continues. Like I said earlier, I had gotten myself a spot in front of the mandolin/banjoist because I'm fascinated with those instruments. "Tobacco Island" has the most kickass banjo part in it that I've been known to fast forward through the song just to get to it. I made sure to scream loud and long when the song was introduced, I was so excited. Once again, I hope this was noticed as I would like to hear this song again and again. Besides, it reminds me of my friend Honey, as we would sing "off to hell we must sail!" everytime we walked to the motor pool (at least 17 times a day) back at Ft. Drum. Ahh, the memories!

"Salty Dog" Pirate song! Need I say more?

"Grace of God Go I" Honestly, this is the only song I routinely skip on any of the Flogging Molly CDs. It's a prayer. I am not a pray-er and I therefore have trouble connecting with it. However, it's a wonderful song live. Dave came out for the encore by himself and sang it. Aforementioned Drunk And Enthusiastic Guy In Front Row sang every word. While I don't empathize with prayer, I do have an appreciation for honesty, passion and humility, all of which this song addresses, and beautifully well at that.

"Son Never Shines on Closed Doors" This is a song for singing by yourself, when you're sure no one's looking. I prefer high speeds on lonely stretches of freeway to sing it, personally. Never heard it live. The was the second song of the encore and Bridget sang the duet. There was more swaying in the front row and I remember thinking, "Man, what a great night! I don't want it to end!"

"Delilah" I've trashed many barracks rooms while jumping around to live recordings of this song, but have never heard it live. (I don't think. However, they may have played it that one time in San Diego on the Warp Tour way back when. I didn't know enough about them at the time to remember any song names.) Words do not describe the level of excitement I was at when I heard the first opening chords. I was fairly certain that my face was going to split in half from smiling so hard. I almost screamed myself hoarse before the first verse even began! The manager, whose name I can't remember, came out to play trumpet (hooray for my old instrument!), there was more swaying in the front, plenty of crowd-only sing-alongs.... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! It was so wonderful wonderful wonderful that I was ready to die when it was over. Really, that's all I need out of life. Just a little bit of fantastic music.

And there's the Flogging Molly review. Sorry it took three posts and four days to get it out. Oh, and Dave stands on his tip-toes when he sings. It's very cute.

Fixing up the old dive

If you'll notice, there have been some changes and additions in the links to the right. Mostly these are for my own convenience (especially the thing-ma-jig ones), but there they are. If I got anything wrong or you're terribly offended because I forgot you or your favorite thing-ma-jig, leave a comment or email me or throw a paper airplane at my head.

And yes, I really lived there.

Flogging Molly Pt II

The venue (Showbox) was pretty cool. Three bars surrounded the dance floor with plenty of tables and yet nothing obstructive either. Not wanting to drink because of the 4 hour drive home afterwards, I walked up front and secured myself a place on the right side of the stage. I did this as the last several shows I've ended up on the other side and I really wanted to watch Bob the banjo/mandoliner(mandolinist?) play. To my continued amazement, I remained in this spot the entire night.

The first band, the Rolling Blackouts, was a straightforward rock n roll band. The crowd wasn't really into them, but they weren't bad. The singer had very pretty eyes and that perpetual 2-3 days worth of scruff that's so popular right now.

The next band, the Scotch Greens, kicked much ass. It takes a lot for a band I've never seen before to get me dancing/fist pumping. The singer sounded like a cross between Johnny Cash and Shane MacGowan and he hopped around stage bug-eyed, slurring and growling. They had a mandolin/banjoist and played kick-ass punk rock with a country twang. They hailed from Ketchum, Idaho. They played last night in Portland, but I was too sleepy to make it.

More to follow. I've got to find some beer.

Flogging Molly Pt I, or How I Almost Got Myself Killed Once Years Ago

I was a bad student yesterday and blew off my American Studies class so that I could get a head start on my trip to Seattle. I needed to eat, get my oil changed and print out a map of the route. Despite the oil changer guys doing their damnedest to convince me that my car was going to rattle apart and/or explode in the next five minutes if I didn't completely rebuild the entire thing, I only spent 40 minutes or so there. I let them replace the radiator cap and the windshield wipers, but I drew the line at replacing the battery.

The drive was suprisingly easy, even though I arrived in Seattle, known for its horrendous rush hour traffic, at 5:30. Google gave me a back route and shockingly I managed to not end up in Canada! I did get frustrated in downtown, though, and wound up pulling into the first parking garage I could turn into without changing lanes or waiting for oncoming traffic to pass. This happened to be about a mile from the venue, but because the weather was reasonable and so was the price of the parking ticket, I stuck with it.

To kill time before the show I walked through the closed Pike Place Market and down to the docks. I found myself a spot with a view of the Sound, the cityscape, the Space Needle, the harbor and the dozens of planes flying in and out of the airport. I don't know if it was the sea air, the quiet sound of the water rippling and the dock gently bumping below, or the patchy fog, but I was reminded of a night in Monterey.

For those of you that don't know, for a year and a half I was stationed in Monterey, CA, studying Korean for the Army. My recruiter told me this was the biggest party in the military. It was a dream assignment for those normal folk with active social lives and a car. I had neither. One Friday night while everyone on the planet seemed to be out having a fabulous time at various parties, I was in the barracks reading or writing in my journal or something equally nerdy. Through my window I could hear the waves and the sea lions barking ("The only thing you won't like about the place is those damn sea lions barking all the time," a sergeant at the Portland MEPS said to me) and at around midnight I decided that brooding down by the water was better than doing so within the concrete walls of my tiny barracks room.

Walking through the fog, I reflected on the cruel irony that although I feel like a wounded artist-type, I have not a shred of actual artistic talent. Unable to paint or poeticize about it, I was just doomed to wander along beaches feeling sorry for myself. So that was exactly what I was doing when I had the brilliant idea to climb out onto some rocks in the water. I'd get up on one and the next one would be right there, so I'd hop onto that one and before I knew it, I was a good ways from shore. All alone, in the dark, I started to feel kind of smug. "Ha! I don't need to stinkin' parties! I entertain myself! haha!" And then a wave came and knocked me off the rock.

Luckily, once I managed to get onto my feet, the water was only waist deep. Pulling myself along the rocks, I fought the tide and managed to get back to shore without breaking any bones or getting washed out to Santa Cruz. You idiot! You can't even swim! What were you thinking? Worthless! I was soaking wet, covered in sand and I smelled like kelp. Even better, I was two miles from home. But by the time the walk was over, I was giggling maniacally. I may have almost moped myself to death, but hey, I at least did something, right?

***
Wow, I was talking about my trip to Seattle, wasn't I? Damn, I guess that will have to be continued.

My ears aren't ringing - they're roaring

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh lord! I drove all the way to Seattle and back last night (4 hours one way) to see Flogging Molly for the 7th time. Yes, they are that good.

Not much time to post, except to say that they played a number of songs that I've either never heard live, or hadn't heard in a long long time. Such highlights were "Factory Girls," sung by Bridget, "Queen Anne's Revenge" sung by Nathen, "Son Never Shines on Closed Doors" (once again with Bridget singing), "Grace of God Go I," "Another Bag of Bricks," "Worst Day Since Yesterday," and.... and.... "DELILIAH!!!!!!!!!!"

I really could die of happiness, but alas, there is archaeology class to attend! Updates to follow.

What the hell is that sound??

Ole! Ole!

Today is going exceedingly well. Class this morning was cancelled due to the instructor having the "flu." I use quotes as I'm highly skeptical of this claim. (Before you think me a bad person, I'd like to note that Teacher's Pet, upon hearing the news sniffed, "Well, if he's going to keep giving out minuses like he's been doing, I hope he has the bird flu!" Another pat on the back for myself for making it all the way out of the building before I let out the snicker.) Anyway, I'm skeptical because it's the most beautiful day of the year and it's Friday and hell, if I had the opportunity, I'd use my yearly flu excuse, too!

So instead of sitting in class, staring out the window and wishing I was outside, I went walking through Goose Hollow and Washington Park. I admired the views of Mt Hood, St Helens and Mt Adams, walked through the rose garden, and saw many flowers and birds. What a great city Portland is! One of those days that makes me wish I had a camera.

I couldn't figure out how to get to the train station underneath Washington Park, though, and I was about to starve to death, so I walked back down and ate some cheap, greasy Mexican food at Cafe Ole. mmmmm!

It's only 3:00 now, so I still have plenty of time to do more work, leaving my weekend free. haha, I just peaked outside and it's cloudy out again! What timing!