Greetings from California!

Well, the time is nearing where I will fly back to Chicago but I figure I write from here so that maybe some California sunshine will warm our blog up.

See, it's still green over here.

First of all I'd like to say, Happy New Year to all the readers and spiders out there. I'm not gonna do much tonight, I'll be drinking some cranberry vodkas, counting down, and hopefully try to convince my city friends to play some good'ol Werewolves of Millers Hallow. This is because I love that game and I have Montana to thank for that.

Yesterday I went to a party/gathering of yelling people for a UFC fight. There were enchiladas, a very fast acting referee, and a very interestingly decorated cake involved.

Usually when I come back to California I have a checklist of things that need to be done:

• In N Out (is a must because there is no better burger than In N Out, I dont give a fuck what anyone says I will stand by their toasted buns, freshly cut fries, and simplistic menu.)

• Disneyland (it's the happiest place on earth, duh. Sam may say that Disneyworld has a better castle and scarier Tower of terror, but hey, Disneyland is the OG in the OC.)

• Shorts in the winter (yes, yes, yes. California can be boring as shit if you dont have a car but you can at least wear shorts and skirts when the east coast is wearing down coats)
• Play with dog (I know, this only applies to me but look how adorable she is:)

I've pretty much got all of them checked off.

Also, in earlier news. Sam and I rode the Christmas train and it was literally the ride of my life. When the train rolled up it smelled like Christmas. The inside was packed like sardines, but the seats had Christmas fabric on it. The ads were'nt ads because they were Christmas jokes.

Over and Out

For now.

Happy Yule!

The days are now officially getting longer.

You gotta love livin', baby, cause dyin' is a pain in the ass.

She tells me, I'm scared.

She just got done with an intense round of chemo. She finds out the results after the new year.

She tells me, I worry every day. I play "what if?" all day long.

She has 2 kids, 11 and 16. They do not have a dad, only a man, somewhere in town, with their same last name and a very short temper.

She tells me, I can't drink alcohol, it makes me sick. I ask her if it has always been this way. Yes. That's probably a good thing, I say. No. She wishes that it wasn't so. She wishes she had had more fun in her life. Like, real fun, she tells me. The kind of fun where you raise some hell and get yourself in and out of trouble.

I think we should throw a party for New Year's . It's my mom's birthday. Everyone could use some fun. No, she says. I'm too worried.

But what she's most worried about, besides bad news, is being in a funk and spoiling everyone else's mood. That's the way she's felt throughout her fight. She never complains. Even when she passes out standing at the counter, even when I direct her to her bed, she mutters lists of "to-dos," mumbling, I'll be fine, go, go.

I work with people who are in pain. I work with people who don't have all of their toes, who cannot snap their own bras, who cannot sleep through the night. I work with a woman who doesn't know if she will wake up tomorrow morning. But you know, I love it, what I do. I love being a part of these sufferer's journeys. To some, I am a sounding board. I can sometimes make the old ladies laugh, sometimes hold the kids when they cry. To some, I am a pain relief. The things I bring them release them from their lives. To some, I am just another shoulder to help them carry their load.

I am in a weird place in my life, working with a very grumpy, angry, sad population of people. But their unique insights on life, the joy that they have learned to derive from what I perceive as trivial, have made me a tiny bit wiser, stronger and happier to live this life I have.

Turns Out the Muppets Are Still Awesome

We saw the new Muppet movie, entitled The Muppets, this weekend. Good move on our part. Basically the Muppets rule because they don't age or try to go "serious" or whatever, and just spend decades and decades being extremely silly and extremely heartwarming. This movie was great, classic Muppet style, celebrating teamwork, singing, love, and the rainbow connection.

Best of all, it has the Fox Business Network's panties in a twist.

The basic plot of the movie is that an evil oil baron, aptly named Tex Richman and played wonderfully by Chris Cooper, has plotted to buy the Muppet studios, tear it down, and drill for oil where the buildings stand. Jason Seigel, Amy Adams, and Seigel's inexplicably puppet-like brother Walter (who, it turns out, is an incredible whistler), go find Kermit so they can get the rest of the gang back together for ONE LAST SHOW, as they say, to raise money to buy the studio back in time, yada yada yada. They live Muppetly ever after.

Fox's beef is that because the villain is an oil baron, Disney is brainwashing our children (America's children, I don't have any children) to be anti-oil, anti-corporations, and anti-America. Clark actually mentioned this as we were leaving the theater, mentioning his appreciation for the subtle nod towards environmentalism. Apparently not subtle enough for Fox (nothing is, really). I don't have anything really articulate or smart to say on the matter; my ridiculous meter for the Fox network blew up several years ago so I can't even think about how to respond. While we're here, though: the fact that they can't find anything else to talk about besides the supposed subliminal Communist messages in Disney movies drums up very little confidence, in, like, society in general or something. It's as if Fox News has finally graduated to the 7th grade, and will soon find out that someone whispers "Take of your clothes" in that scene in Aladdin.

It was them who whispered it.

And, for the record, there were bunches of little kids, ages ranged probably three to nine, and I don't think any of them know what the word "baron" means, or what oil is, or even Texas, for that matter, so it's hard to believe they'll take any stock in the bad guy in this movie (who, by the way, raps (?)), besides the fact that he's the bad guy, and scary music plays when he's on screen. They were just there to giggle at Fozzie's fart shoes and Miss Piggy hitting her head on the desk. It was a freaking Muppet movie, Fox, so stop trying to ruin our childhoods.

sorry to disappoint yo

much like one of my literary heroes Chuck Klosterman.... all i ever feel motivated to write about are things that piss me off, the general decay of society, and the different self-destructive methods i use in order to cope with all of the afore-mentioned things. get ready for a christams rant: coming soon to the GSS near you. as for thanksgiving... i really am going to miss my sister's down home cooking, and this year can blow me because even though i went to a pot luck at the shop that i currently work in, i dropped my new iphone in a glass of wine and i think that some lushy poltergeist now resides in one of the wires because my phone now randomly calls two people : my old boss at the coffee shop, and my old boss at a tattoo shop that i am no longer on good terms with. i can't really be mad at this ghosty living in my phone because i would probably do the exact same thing. i'm an asshole like that. also, sam, max, and rachel left for alabama to go give thanks with harriet (sam's mum) and will be gone until sunday. i am to spend this day all on my lonesome and i'm pretty bitter about it. at least i have my dog, right? i do get to go home for christmas, which i am balls excited about. not the christmas part, but being able to go home and see everyone that i hold near and dear and finish several tattoos that i started before coming out here. i am sending one of my fliers to my girlfriend shayna in preparation so that hopefully i can get mad business when i'm home and i won't have to stay in montana and live in my sister's basement.

business at the shop has been hella-slow and i don't really know what to do about it. i drew a dope ass flyer:

and hopefully this will bring me lots and lots of people who think i am a rad artist and are willing to let me ink them forevers. other than whining about how much peanut butter i don't have, i have been drawing quite a bit, so that's productive (i guess). i know that when summer hits i'll do an about face and have lots of wonderful things to tell you about but for right now i'm sticking to my original formula.

i'm fore-going shout outs because nobody responds anyway.

olive out

This Looks Medium Interesting

It appears as though my former coworker and frequent high-fiver Dave is putting together some kind of project called Long Time Comin' - Lost Sounds From the Treasure State. I don't know whether the end goal is a compilation CD or a set of CDs or a zine or a documentary or what, but I figured since all of you have at least heard of Montana you might be of some help. They are looking for recordings and photos and whatnot, so if you have anything of interest (but certainly not of value) direct it towards Dave on the ol' FB or maybe this blog, which is possibly related. He is a good man.

For example, George Dennison of The Starfires, circa 1962.


This came up in the same google search?????

Good luck. Hopefully Bill Murray had a band in Butte called the Singing Kings and we'll be so famous on Dave's project for discovering that.

Bill Murray in his Starfires cover band, The Copper Fires, circa 1992.

P.S. What the fuck is happening to this blog? Remember when everything wasn't all whiney and separated by weeks and weeks of inactivity? Sam, I demand you to be funny.

Mini Food Revolution, Or Shape Up or Ship Out You Lazy Punks

To put it bluntly and overly simply, I'm disappointed in my generation. I'm disappointed in the degradation of punctuation and grammar that's leaked from the internet to essays and novels. I'm disappointed in cell phones that make it okay for people to be late because they can send a quick text: "on my way sry lolz :)" I'm also disappointed I was 18 before I started sewing buttons back on myself.

This guy knows what I'm talking about. Didn't even tie that tie himself. Lol.

Not that I'd trade my life with someone 50 or 100 years ago. The internet and communication technology and sewing machines and moms do wonderful things for us and for society- this is undeniable. The shifts in language show it's a living, growing thing, and makes it all the more fascinating to speak and study. Computers in offices and classrooms have provided immense benefits for people all over the world. And despite the widespread social and physical injustices that come with industrialism, factories, and worst of all, sweat shops, having affordable, durable clothing made by machines means we can actually live in live in them and wear them out and then get replacements, instead of spending our time in castle towers "embroidering," or whatever. Progress is progress, right?

The food, however, has not progressed. Everything is processed and squeezed and frozen and dyed so much it's hardly even food anymore, and it's an uphill battle trying to find food that's produced locally or even semi-locally. My peers eat frozen pizza, corn dogs, and bagels, and we're fat and grouchy because of it. And nobody knows how to cook.

True story.

When I arrive at a party with a loaf of zuchinni bread in hand, or a friend drops in to see me making alterations an incredible West African Peanut Soup recipe, they're stunned. They say, "How do you do that? How do you know how to do that? What are you doing? What's vegetables?" and teeter over onto our hideous couch. I revive them to say, "It's science," and send them on their way with full bellies and functioning arteries.

This isn't to say that I'm a foodie or -- God forbid -- vegan or anything. I just like too cook. I'm fortunate enough to have a functioning kitchen, a few cookbooks, and a little common sense, and prefer to spend money on real food instead of chemicals. By cooking my own meals, I can control how much sodium, sugar, and fat (and what kinds) I put into my body; I can support local farmers and independent, local grocery stores; I can experiment with flavor and expand my palate; and, best of all, I can spend time in a warm kitchen with people I love. I get to watch my mom fold chocolate into a creamy espresso truffle, Whittaker nibble at a spoonful of cheese sauce, and Clark pour over his family cookbook, hunting for something else to do with apples. It seems like the benefits in knowing your way around the kitchen are endless, even beyond the nutritional ones, and it's disappointing that more people my age haven't picked up on it.

So I am here to help. At least a little bit.

First of all, to get some basic knowledge down, I'd recommend either The Joy of Cooking or the Fannie Farmer Boston Cooking-School Cook Book. Both are loaded with pages of basic cooking tips, including stuff like how to prepare pumpkin or stuff a turkey or peel garlic, alongside hundreds of reliable recipes. Second, some other totally bomb collections I've used one billion times are The Moosewood Cookbook, Betty Crocker's Cooky Book, and, believe it or not, church publications from the midwest. Once you get past the four hundred the jello "salad" recipes in any given version, they're great resources for things like cakes, quick breads, and squirrel. Third, here are three things I think every budding chef chould know:
1. When sauteing, wait for the pan to get totally warmed up before dropping in your chicken or onion or whatever, so the food doesn't stick to the pan.
2. Bread products are done when a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
3. It's okay to guess and experiment with things like soups and sauces, but measurements need to be exact when baking, because the chemical properties of things like eggs, baking soda, and yeast are finicky. Doing steps out of order, even, can alter a recipe. So these things seem like common sense, but I bet if you did a random survey, very few people would know this shit. It's crazy, right? Are you getting how crazy this is yet?

And now the good part! Recipes! I have been cooking a lot this fall, partially because our neighbors have been generous with their harvests and partially because I have extra time compared to last year. Here are some good harvest-time it's-chilly-out-of-doors-time foods that are pretty bomb and pretty easy. I expect a report back. And also, the formatting is fucked up but I can't/don't feel like fixing it.

Macaroni and Cheese

This is Whittaker's contribution to Thanksgiving every year, and some years it's hard to eat turkey this macaroni is so good.

1 lb macaroni

4 c shredded sharp cheddar

1 c grated Parmesan

6 c milk

½ c butter

5 T flour

Topping

2 T butter

½ c bread crumbs

Pinch of paprika

1 tsp mustard powder

1. Cook macaroni and drain.

2. Melt butter over medium heat. Stir in enough flour to make a roux. Add milk to roux slowly, stirring constantly. Stir in cheeses, and cook over low heat until cheese is melted and the sauce begins to thicken. Put macaroni in large casserole dish, and pour sauce over macaroni. Stir well.

3. Melt butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add breadcrumbs and brown. Spread over macaroni and cheese. Sprinkle with a little paprika.

4. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

Gooey Apple Cake

A winner every time, but can get a little messy. And you may not omit nuts- the crunch is essential.

8 T butter, divided

1 ½ c sugar

1 egg

2 c flour

1 t baking soda

½ cinnamon

¼ t salt

2 large tart apples, chopped

1 c walnuts, chopped

2 t cornstarch

¼ c evaporated milk

1 t lemon juice

1 t vanilla extract

1. Cream 5 T butter and 1 c sugar. Add egg and beat well. Stir in flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, apples and walnuts. Batter will be stiff. Spoon into greased 9x9 pan, and smooth top. Bake at 350 degrees about 35 minutes.

2. Combine remaining butter and sugar, cornstarch, and evaporated milk in a saucepan; bring to a boil over medium heat. Boil 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat; stir in lemon juice and vanilla. Pour over hot cake. Serve warm.

West African Peanut Soup

Makes a huge quantity and freezes well.

2 c chopped onions

1 T oil (I use olive)

1/2 t cayenne or other ground dried chiles

1 t grated peeled fresh ginger root

1 c chopped carrots

2 c chopped sweet potatoes

4 c vegetable stock or water

2 c tomato juice or canned diced tomatoes

1 cu smooth peanut butter

1 T sugar (optional)

1 c chopped scallions or chives

1. Saute the onions in the oil until just translucent. Stir in the cayenne and fresh ginger. Add the carrots and saute a couple more minutes. Mix in the sweet potatoes and stock or water, bring the soup to a boil, and then simmer for about 15 minutes, until the vegetables are tender.
2. In a blender or food processor (or with one of those "cool hand-held soupifyer beater stick things," to use my mother's sophisticated terminology), puree the vegetables with the cooking liquid and the tomato juice. Return the puree to a soup pot. Stir in the peanut butter until smooth.
3. Taste the soup. Its sweetness will depend on the sweetness of the carrots and sweet potatoes. If it’s not there naturally, add just a little sugar to enhance the other flavors.
4. Reheat the soup gently, using a heat diffuser if needed to prevent scorching. Add more water, stock or tomato juice for a thinner soup. Serve topped with plenty of chopped scallions or chives. Also if the cayenne is good and hot you might want a small dollop of sour cream floating in the bowl. Chopped unsalted dry roasted peanuts make a nice garnish too.


Zucchini Bread
This is the very best recipe for zucchini bread I've found, and is a great base for banana bread, pumpkin bread, applesauce bread, or whatever moist mashed item you happen to have.
3 c flour
1 t salt
1 t baking powder
1 t soda
3 t cinnamon
3 eggs
1 c oil
2 1/4 c sugar
3 t vanilla
2 c grated zucchini
1 c nuts
1. Stir together dry ingredients. Set aside.
2. Beat together eggs, oil, sugar and vanilla.
3. Add dry ingredients and mx thoroughly. Stir in zucchini and nuts.
4. Pour batter into 2 greased and floured loaf pans, then sprinkle with brown sugar.
5. Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour.


Cheesy Onion Rolls
Made this dip for a party a few weeks ago, and people flipped. It even pleased Bill, who had said, "I don't know why people go so crazy for dip. Dip's not even a food." Now it's the biggest section of his food pyramid, right after PBR.
3-4 c chopped onion
1/4 c chopped garlic
1 T butter
1 c mayonnaise (sounds gross, but bear with me)
2 c grated Parmesan
sourdough rolls or a baguette or two, sliced in half

1. Saute onion and garlic together in butter over medium heat until caramelized.
2. Stir onions and garlic with mayo and Parmesan until mixed thoroughly and cheese begins to melt a little bit.
So that's the dip. You can serve it with crackers or whatever, OR spread it onto rolls or a baguette then bake em until just slightly golden for a more serving-specific approach.


I think that'll do it for now, right? When the time comes, I'll let you all know my hot buttered rum recipe. But until then, happy cooking!

bein brizzoke is no fizzun....

so max got a real job yesterday, and has since quit his shitty retail jobs at barnes and noble and REI where he sold skis to people who can't ski because we fucking live in chicago... ANYWAY.... that just means that even though i was the first one to find a job in this lovely city, they have both surpassed me in the "being productive members of society" category. sam wakes up freakishly early every morning and goes to school where him and rachel don't do schoolwork... they "create", and the fruits of their labours can be viewed all over our house. max starts his new job at a small publishing company where he's going to have regular hours and (don't puke) a SALARY!!!! my days consist of this general routine:

- wake up (normally between the hours of eleven and one pm)

- drink half a pot of coffee to myself

- do yoga for thirty minutes and go for a thirty minute run with me dog (this will be the high point of productivity for the day)

- shower (every other day)

- eat horribly cheap food

- catch the bus to work

- sit at work for eight hours

-work activities include facebook, movie watching, video games, and sometimes drawing

- catch bus home

-take dog for walk

-drink half a bottle of wine and watch skins on the netflix (the u.k. version) until i pass out fully clothed on the couch

every once in a great while i will get someone who wants to get a tattoo from me, amd i do this with great joy, but as soon as i am done, the despair creeps back into my brainstem and i'm launched back into zombie mode again. hopefully my recently written resume (which i penned in a mere twenty minutes) will get me a job at a coffee shop or a shoe store or summing so i can pay my rent next month... if not, i guess it's back to montana for me, which would distinctly blow. i'm at the point where i'm not only handing business cards and resumes to anyone who makes eye contact with me, i 'm also "sending good vibes out into the universe" in hope that karma will look fondly upon my situation and keep my sorry ass afloat in the big bad city.

sam. i wuv you

max. you make me proud even though you're a bad influence on my dietary choices

julia. keep sending me young adult literary suggestions

that's all i have for now.

gss fo lyfe

Yes

Ol' Hulia's Mostly Reliable Recommendations for Recently Acquired Media

Now that I have an English degree, I know how to read, and since I don't go to school anymore, I have time to do so. Also, Clark is in a film class, so his homework = watch movies. Here are the fruits of my labor, book-like and movie-like, and some other things I've been spending time with.

The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins


No, I haven't stopped reading young adult literature yet, and yes, I'm sure you've already heard about this series, but I just thought I should I should emphasize that they are GOD. DAMN. AWESOME. Everyone knows I love post-apocalyptic stories; Collin's version is no exception. It is vivid and empowering, and includes sentiments of both the power of the individual as well as the power of of a group of downtrodden citizens coming together for a cause. The characters are mesmerizing, the setting stark and severe, and the story positively ruthless. An absolute page-turner, as they say.

My three beefs with these books are as follows: Books 2 and 3 aren't out on paperback yet, they're already making a movie of Book 1, and Book 2 (Catching Fire) really feels like a middle child - forgotten, quiet, maybe a little bit of a people-pleaser. It seemed like, at times, its only purpose was to act as a vehicle to move from Book 1 to 3, and didn't have as much of a story in itself as Book 1 did. It was exciting nonetheless, and I'm getting my panties in a twist waiting for Book 3, Mockingjay, to appear at the library.


Brick, directed by Rian Johnson


This was something Clark had to watch for class, and I'm thankful that was the case, because him taking notes prompted more discussion and understanding that wouldn't have arisen if we'd just happened upon the movie. This is because Brick is a wonderful twist on the essentials of film noir, and knowing these essentials makes the movie much more delightful; you can see both where Johnson gives a nod to the classics and where modernity takes hold.

Instead of being set in gritty L.A., for example, the movie takes place in sunny California suburbia. And instead of a hardboiled detective leading the cast, the main man is a loner high schooler, played by one of my longest-time celebrity crushes Joseph Gordon-Levitt (I know, right?). The movie follows many of the other markers for the genre, however, not the least of which being the heavy reliance on slang in the dialogue. The language itself, immediate and succinct and hilarious, was probably my favorite element of this movie. It can be found on Netflix. Go there now.


Henderson the Rain King by Saul Bellow


I read this book for some extra nerdy reasons, which I will tell you now: I was in an extra nerdy conversation the other day with my friend and Clark's bandmate Ben, who is one of the few people I know who's read more books than I have. We were talking about Salman Rushdie, who you all know is one of the only people in the world who can claim both to have had married a former supermodel and have a fatwa declared on them, at the same time. The man is insane. Anyway I mentioned how when I saw Rushdie speak at CWU a few years ago, his jokes didn't go over well because they were too "literary" (i.e. extra nerdy) and referenced things like obscure Whitman pieces and the writer Saul Bellow, which I'm convinced nobody in my generation but the extra nerdy ones have ever even heard of. So, to recap, Ben is nerdy, I'm nerdy, and Rushdie is extra nerdy, but he has enough badass feathers in his living-in-hiding cap that it's okay. And then Ben lent me this book (actually he lent it to Clark but Clark doesn't know how to read so I just read it and told him he should learn to read so he can read it).

This book is awesome, and not even that nerdy.

The main character is a guy named Gene Henderson, who's like this grouchy fat old guy in Connecticut. He kind of hates his life, but wants to keep living (driven by an undying, unidentified voice pleading I want I want), so he keeps trying new shit to get his motor really going again. He remarries, raises pigs, tries to learn violin, but nothing seems to work, so he third-wheels-it on his buddy's honeymoon to Africa. After helping his friend film or something, he says see ya and bounces with a guide and his jeep into the rocky, mostly uninhabited desert. The following things happen, not necessarily in this order:
1. Walks a total of 30 some-odd days in the sun with no food.
2. Blows up a frog pond.
3. Carries a dead body from his hut to a ravine, only to return to find it in his hut again.
4. Cries on an old lady with a cataract.
5. Saves a village from drought.
6. Becomes pseudo-royalty of the Wairiri people.
7. Consoles a lonely Persian orphan with his pet lion cub.

The story is vaguely picaresque, told in almost a stream-of-consciousness style. Henderson tends to ramble and digress, but he is an endearing character, and is easy to root for, despite his many flaws. The book prompted much pondering and laughter alike.


All the Pretty Horses, directed by Billy Bob Thornton (I know, right?)


I am a longtime fan of this book and a longtime fan of freaking Matt Damon, but somehow never got around to watching the movie until now. But it is good. I loved the sparseness of the scenery and the language, the almost palpable brotherhood between the main characters, and little Jimmy Blevins was just cute as a button and dumb as a rock, but lovable. It wasn't the most stunning film adaptation of a book I've ever seen, and "Some passions can never be tamed" on the movie poster makes it look pretty... "romantic," but it'll do. Also on Netflix.


Ashes & Fire by Ryan Adams


The old boy's done it again. It's been a while, to be sure, since anything Ryan Adams has put out has really wowed me. The most recent Cardinals album I listened to, Cardinology (2008), was fairly forgettable, I didn't even know he'd put out two albums since (Orion and III/IV, both 2010). Ashes & Fire, however, is a real doozy. He's back where the melodies suit him, his acoustic guitar playing is more refined, and the lyrics are as haunting and heartbreaking as ever. Folks of note who join him on this album include Norah Jones, Cardinals guitarist Neal Casal, and wife Mandy Moore (I know, right?).

The man still has some tour dates ahead of him, so catch him if you can. Once I saw him and it was terrible, but then I saw him again and it was amazing. So, it's a mixed bag, I guess, but that's to be expected from this guy, I think. Aren't we used to that from him by now?

Fall

I guess the summer was the off season for all of us. Maybe except for julia because she actually had something cool to write about which was traveling the areas of the US of A that I have never been to.

But life's back in session, and maybe now I can spill my brains on GSS.

So here we are in Chicago again. Sam and I live in two different places and honestly it's probably the worst thing in the world because going back and forth between apartments is the most annoying thing everrr. sometimes I throw things in sporadic bouts with anger and wag my fist in the air up to the sky cursing irrationality. But other than having to go back and forth I love both of the domains of which we preside in. Sam and I have a bookcase that consist of comic books, toys, and muppet movie DVDs. We have a large Dracula pop up book pinned to the wall.

This is where we get our (toy) fix...probably the best place on earth.

Sam and I are now officially employed. Consider yourselves lucky that you are not an SAIC alumni because you'd have to receive a call from one of us asking you for money to support our electric bills, scholarships, and bad art school haircuts. Tomorrow is our first day of calling real people and we're pissing our pants every time we think about asking for moolah.

I officially know how to make books now. So if you want a one of a kind hand made journal from yours truly, let me know. Maybe I'll make special GSS notebooks where we can write secrets of the GSS society....like Skull and Bones or something like that. Or you know, you can draw pictures of bunnies smelling some flowers.

This is what it looked like yesterday at the zoo.

Anyway, this is my second year in an environment that has real seasons, but really this is my first year in actually living where I can see it. Looking back, living in the Loop got depressing after a while. No trees, no real sense of change except when the snow came, and then that was everywhere. Being from LA has the best temperature year round but there were never beautiful leaves turning red and yellow and then falling in an cinematic manor. the other day we drove next to a park with green green grass with trees all around it and there were little kids playing soccer. it was too fantastic. I dont know if I could ever NOT live in a place with seasons again.

Oh yeh, and this is Max, Jen, Olivia, and Sam at the zoo...

adventures... i guess.

chynna... while i confess that i also have abandoned this blog (mostly for facebook and youtube) i did just go back and read your posts about new york. i think you must be having the same experience that i was.... and it sucks believe me. like sam said... theres a fucking mcdonald's across the street from my house and it's a battle every goddamned day to not go over there and drown my sadness and homesickness with quarter pounders and rolo mcflurries. i am pretending there is a force field around that place and i am by no means to ever cross that threshold. ever. so far it's worked. while i saved up a lot to het out here my cash supply is slowly diminishing.... mostly because of my bottle of wine a night habit and the fact that cigarettes are nine dollars a pack here. i don't even go out to the bars because they terrify me. i went out once and it was such a pissing contest that i couldn't even enjoy beyonce properly. i had to leave well before everyone else because some bartender who thought he was god's gift to the chicago bar scene kept grilling every request i made... in my head i'm thinking "i'm only secretly judging you on your fucking purple v-neck tee and your five o clock shadow that you probably pay twenty dollars a week to groom mr. bartender man/dj.... all i want to do is get drunk and have a good time/shake my bootay-doo and i'm not here to impress you." what came out of my mouth (i was four shots deep at this point) was "you're an asshole." so far i have not met anyone who i would be willing to kick it with (sam and max and rachel excluded from this statement) and i watch youtube videos of my friends back home every day and it makes me sad. however, ive come to terms with the fact that i came here for a reason, and nothing back home is going to change in my absence, so i can quit worrying about it and get on with my life.

i have found a job. and so far am staying fairly busy. i am now employed at Mastermind ink here in chi-town and that has improved my funk by leaps and bounds. all i'm saying chynna is keep your chin up sister, lord knows that the rest of the world isn't going anywhere...

sam... stop going to school so much and hang out with me more.

max.... you're a whiner!

julia... ur 2L2Q

rachels' gonna give me a dress to wear for all hallow's... so thanks.

calvin... i love you so hard

gss fo lyfe.

A confession

I haven't read GSS in almost three months...and while I understand this offense is punishable by death in most countries, I solemnly swear that I will spend all of tomorrow morning catching up on the latest posts.

p.s. I'm in Chicago with Sam, Rachel and Olivia now. Everyday I wake up with a delightful mixture of glee and terror.

Pretty Little Liars

It's late. I'm sitting up, thinking about stuff. I haven't slept much over the past week. I guess I have too much time on my hands, no direction, nothing to keep me occupied, keep me busy. I literally have nothing I need to get done, and the problem with that is that I can't do anything I want, either. I feel no contentment or satisfaction from reading, exploring, doing. It's worse than the despair and resentment I was feeling a week ago. At least then I was busy, trying to untie my knots.

I'm headed West. The big, bad city turned out to be too much for me. It denied me an opportunity to support myself, and I decided that the fight wasn't worth it. I had a short-term goal, here until April, and it's not worth it to me to stay in this place that doesn't get me off and sell my soul, rack up debt and try and work through my separation anxiety from clean air and water, for such a short commitment. That's what I'm trying to convince myself. But everyday since I booked that flight back to Washington, something amazing has happened, from meeting Dakota Fanning to being offered a job (guess American Apparel doesn't have a policy about showering often) to discovering I have actually made a really good, true friend.

Maybe I jumped the gun. Maybe I had Week 7 cold feet and hit the Buy button too soon. Or maybe my reasoning isn't off, and whatever path I choose is the right path, and I need to learn to go with it, to learn from what I've done and to look forward.

I moved here with $350 in my pocket and two phone numbers scribbled on the back of an envelope. The money is all gone, and the numbers never called me back. But I learned something really important. I learned what I value. I got to experience unconditional love from someone other than my parents, and I learned that I totally reciprocate that love. I learned that New York is a place of legend and lore, that it is what I make of it, and it will always be here, with its fish markets and bright lights, if I should ever need it.

Club 201, Or Acupuncture is the New Recliner Sofa

As the bicentenially-and-oneth poster (like, one who posts, not one which hangs, and by that I mean one which is mounted, but not... you know what I'm getting at), I'd hereby like to make a daring proclamation among Spiderettes and Spiderees alike: I am not moving to Chicago, and I'm very happy about it.

Me and Robin Williams hanging out in Missoula.

Big Sky Country is treating me very well for one or more reasons. I don't have to go to school but people respect me because I have (I finally received my diploma in the mail to prove it - but why does it take four months, might I ask?), I only work part-time, and it has been the freaking most beautiful end-of-summer I've ever seen. The leaves have just barely started changing color, our neighbor gave us a zucchini and a bucket of apples, and it only rains when we really need it. Autumn in Missoula is truly a wonderful sight.

Me and Robin Williams go fishing like, every day.

As a matter of fact, Haylee (cryptically and evasively part of the GSS as something donut-related) is coming to visit this weekend, and we have in our plans some or all of the following: Picking more apples and pressing them for cider both soft and hard; hanging out in my very own back yard with its very own greenhouse and yard furniture; drinking heavily; wearing sweatpants; attending the season's prime farmer's market; playing the baby grand piano which rests majestically in my very own living room; going back to bed; and acupuncture.

Acupuncture. I shall explain:

On our way back to Missoula from Maine this summer, we needed a place to stay somewhere in New York, so Kyle called up his photojournalism classmate whose boyfriend's parents lived outside Syracuse. Turns out the thread wasn't as thin as I imagined, and we arrived to the peaceful yet privileged town of Skeanateles ("skinny atlas"), where this boyfriend's mom served us a delicious Italian dinner and wine, and we camped on the shores of one of the cleanest lakes in the world.

Cue applause.

And also, Michael, said boyfriend, spoke to us about the ways of acupuncture. He had recently finished a program in New York that turned him, as a wand may turn a toad into a handsome prince, into a licensed acupuncturist and was moving back to Missoula to open a clinic downtown. It has since opened to an almost startlingly warm reception (I think or hope we've moved on from "Ancient Chinese Secret"); Clark has already been pinned, so to speak, once since they've opened, and made a second appointment for he and his bandmates for this Saturday.

At Missoula Community Acupuncture, you sit in a recliner in a big room and Michael puts 10 or 12 needles in your skin, or more or less, I suppose, depending on your "ailment." According to Clark, the needles themselves are hardly noticeable, and then you just sit for 45 minutes in this comfy chair, perfectly still, relaxing to the sweet new sounds of Enya and/or Philip Glass. Then you pay what you can afford (the average student rate is around $20) and go about your day.

Me and Robin Williams getting ready for some acupuncture.

If I hadn't have met Michael and talked with him about it, I'd still probably be a skeptic about the whole thing. After all, it is numerous sharp things in my oh-so-delicate skin. After all, his clinic is in a basement. After all, it is an mysterious practice from... the Orient. But I was so immediately at ease with and trusting of Michael, I thought, well, what the fuck. Might as well get acupuncture this weekend. It's affordable and interesting, and, after all, I could use some new prick jokes.

This is post number 200!!

At least, that's what my dashboard tells me.

So this Thursday Max and Olive will be arriving in Chicago. We have a quaint 2 1/2 bedroom apartment in Andersonville, directly across the street from a McDonalds (the golden arches taunt me from my desk [I caved and got a Big Mac a few days ago {it was delicious}]). I basically forced Max to move here, so hopefully I don't ruin his life.

Chynna: You should probably move over here. We have one more teeny room with your name on it. Chicago is pretty much the tits. There are a shit load of publishers here, and a huge zine and mini comic culture if you're in to that sort of thing. That would be five (counting Rachel) Giant Spiders under one roof. Imagine what we could do? We could write a zine or have a gallery show or make some comics or read some poetry. I have the technical skills and you have the talent to take GSS further.

Max: Halloween costume idea for you: sexy pikachu.

$%@#

I think we killed it, GSS.

All the better to tell my secrets. I hate NYC.

I'm about to generalize the shit out of one of the biggest, most notorious places in the world:

The city is ugly and dirty, jaded and snobby. From the architecture to the architects, the city reeks with conceit and bitterness and anger. No one is capable of smiling, of patience when I brush their arm with my purse, of kindness or hospitality.

My justification comes from my privileged past. I have lived in the sage-covered foothills of the the Sandias in New Mexico. I have lived on the lakeshore of pristine Payette Lake, surrounded by snow capped mountains and fresh air. I have lived in Missoula, Montana, a place known for its beauty, not only geographically, but the beauty of the people. People in the west (no generalizations here!), are happy and light and kind and accepting because they have room to move, fresh, clean air to breathe, and a contagious happiness because they know that they do not have to live in New York Goddamn City.

Did I mention I hate it here?

People are so materialistic that they have babies like they buy purses. And so they hire nannies. To raise their children. So that they can show them off at the company holiday galas (which they work through) and fulfill some convoluted ideal that that is the way life should be lived.

Of over 100 applications and resumes submitted, I have been called back to 10 interviews. Of those, I have heard back from 5. Of the 5, 3 denied me because I am too "new" to the city. Denied because they doubt my ability to catch the L train and hail a taxi. (I'm really good at both of those things.) The other 2, a bookstore and a publishing company, denied me because my education was not obtained from a reputable establishment. Based on the curses and grunts I muttered on my way out, they may just be right.

I am not sure what comes next.

Hope you are well, wherever you are, GSS!

WHAT!!!!

Hello! It's me, Sam! I'm on Rachel's computer and too lazy to sign in to my own account.

I haven't written on here in like twenty-seven months. Sorry :(( I was busy doing Summer stuff like sleeping until noon, not meeting expectations, and shirking responsibilities. The Scoria Butte project Rachel and I were working with sort of turned in to a confusing mess of pretension and poorly communicated ideas, so that was a major bummer. We did set up on pretty nice gallery show, but all in all Butte was kind of a lame scene this year. Rachel took lots of beautiful pictures, some of which you can see here.

I also applied for a job on the new Ninja Turtles show on Nickelodeon, but I haven't heard back from them yet. Everyone who reads this should write dozens of vaguely threatening letters demanding that they employ me.

Now Rachel and I are in Chicago, sleeping on peoples' couches until we figure out our apartment situation. Max and Olivia will both be moving here eventually, which is good because I'm a baby who hates making new friends. Max is feeling a little nervous, so you should also write him dozens of vaguely threatening letters calling him a pussy.

Chynna - I hope you have a very great time in New York. We are planning to drive over and see you when we have a break.

Olivia - Be here soon :(

Max - Don't be a scared

Julia - Beat up Wilbur if you see him in Missoula.

More soon.

Jet Planes and Dreamy Dreams

I have an apology to make: I was really confused and kinda hurt, so I took it out by not ever writing for the blog. But now I am better, mostly 'cause I forgot why I was upset. And my palms are itching. So here's a new post. Sorry.

OK. Well. I am actually laying in a hammock right now, in my backyard in Idaho. My puppy is in the hammock too. I am really happy here. I left Montana 2 weeks ago with all I owned, and now half that stuff is at Goodwill, a quarter is in storage and the remainder is rolled and stuffed into a suitcase (maybe 2) because on Tuesday, I am moving to New York Citay.

I don't have a job, or any real prospects. In fact, I have no idea how I am going to survive, but I will. Maybe some nice suit will offer me a nice little office job and I'll serve my term in corporate bliss. Or maybe I'll pour smoothies.

I do know that I have a teenytiny love nest in Chinatown, and that some people are coming to clean and feng-shui the place just after I get there. My future roommate/current BFF said he found them on the internet, and they were offering such a killer deal that he signed us up! I'm not sure how one feng-shuis (?) a place so small, but I will tell you when it happens. He also informed me that on Friday, we will be singing karaoke. I'm not sure which of the two I am more apprehensive about.

Also, thanks to an intense summer school sesh, I can now speak pretty ok Spanish. Kind of. Mostly I can read it. And sometimes write it. But I'm not going to here, cause I get embarrassed. I would rather people know I have the talent by telling rather than showing.

The postgrad world is about to rear its head, and I really hope it doesn't completely destroy me. If you are going to be in da Big Apple anytime soon, please tell me.

Chynna

sam is a liar and all of us suck

except for julia... like i said, she has been making the rest of us look legit for quite some time now. as a matter of fact, we should probably just re-name this blog JULIA (and friends). i know you are awesome at writing and making us all look dumb jules but please post some pictures of your trip, i'm more of a visual kinda guy you know????

sam is a liar because the only time he ever posts is to promise that he will post soon. i know my contributions have been minimal at best but come on man, you brought all of us together, pick the ball back up and pull some william wallace type shit or i'm gonna die probably.

i'm currently writing from an apartment that smells like chapstick because my friend wilson (who resides here) has a debilitating addiction to lip balm. not kidding. this.whole.place.smells.like.chapstick. but don't judge him based on his love of lip moisturizer. judge him on the art he makes, which can be found here.

ANYWAY. i have been sooooooooper busy. so busy to the point that i'm quite sure that 'm going to quit me coffee shop job. so yay for me. there is big news in the world of the GSS, but i'm going to challenge sam to write about it, and if he doesn't, i'll kick him in the shins or summing.

i am currently foregoing my usual shout outs because i can't remember who even writes for this blog anymore.

olive out.

On Surprises, National

Things I wasn't prepared for, but maybe should have been:

The Pacific Coast is as stunning as everyone said and I vaguely remember. To finally see the full open ocean again after 6 or 7 years of settling for the Sound is entirely breathtaking; foxgloves and lupines dotted the roadside, giant towers of rock broke the waves into shards, and we Nixoned every construction worker on the 101. Not to mention we found the most badass secret camping spot in all of Oregon, which only you, the loyalest Spiderettes, who continue to read even after all my coworkers have left me, will know about.

There are customs gates on the California border. Luckily we only had the one orange.

Redwoods are enormous. We didn't find the tree you can drive a whole gol-dang car through, but we found some pretty big ones. For example, Clark and I sawed one down (one who saws is a sawyer, by the way) and determined it was 6'8" in diameter and over 1,500 years old!

Humboldt County is full of hippies. And elk. Unfortunately both hunting seasons had already passed.

Fire season can last 12 months in central California. Dry heat is usually no problem for me, having grown up in a pseudo-desert, but I spent most of my time in Sacramento drinking ice water in front of a fan indoors. The remaining time I was in Tiger Creek pocketing gravel-sized chunks of gold behind my hosts' backs. And a baby peed on my floor.

People drink beer and smoke weed in plain sight in San Francisco. This is a city comprised mostly of sinners. But we had a mostly good time and ate very well, despite (or perhaps because of) being only metres away from the city's main sewage treatment plant. We didn't go to the Golden Gate Bridge, or ride a trolley thing, or drive up the idiot street that turns every four inches, but we did see the Full House ..... houses.

U.S. National Parks are world wonders. Yosemite and the Grand Canyon were littered with families clearly and proudly, to my dismay, NOT using English to express their awe. On several occasions we couldn't even figure out what garbage they were speaking, which was all the more infuriating because the entrance signs to both parks clearly state: "YOU LOOK AT OUR SHIT, YOU SPEAK OUR LANGUAGE."

Death Valley is hot as shit. We drove through it at roughly 9:30 p.m. when it was roughly 105 degrees. Our campsite in Shoshone, about an hour outside the valley, was furnished with lava showers and spigots for Tabasco on-site. Very accommodating, the Shoshone people.

Las. Vegas. Sucks.

The Hoover Dam was not named after my favorite vacuum cleaner brand. Rather, it bears the name of a president who wasn't even invited to the dedication ceremony; he was "the Great Engineer had quickly drained, ditched, and dammed the country," according to Wikipedia's citation of another writer.

Route 66 is the most stereotyping highway in America. Never before have I thought about what it would be like to spend a night in a wig wam, or wear REAL INDIAN JEWELRY, or buy post cards with traditional Indian imagery on them. And now I know what this sacred, wild place was like 60 years ago, in the golden age of cowboy consumerism.

Clark was right about Texas. One should spend as little time there as possible.

Southern hospitality is still going strong. Aunt T and Uncle Jack let us sleep inside. Clayton smoked chicken and bacon-wrapped hot dogs and cigarettes in the front yard. Big Dave bought us breakfast (though he did lie about free muffins). Kyle got an $8 haircut.

RED ALERT!
YOU CANNOT BUY REAL BEER IN A GROCERY STORE IN OKLAHOMA.
PEOPLE PUT WATER IN BEER'S CLOTHING.
DON'T BE FOOLED. ONE MUST BUY BEER AT A LIQUOR STORE AND WAIT A WHILE FOR IT TO COOL DOWN. CONSIDER BUYING A CROSSWORD BOOK WITH YOUR STROH'S.

THIS IS ALL TRUE.

Arkansas is nicknamed The Natural State. An apt name for the greenest state of our trip to date; basically God took a giant nature shit on the country and called it "Appalachia." Rolling hills, diving kingfishers, and gleaming trout everywhere. One thing they haven't figured out, however, despite their best efforts, is mountains. We're staying in Mountain Home and recently visited Mountain View, the alleged folk music capital of the world, but so far I haven't seen any mountains. As a matter of fact, the highest point in the state is only 2,753 feet up, and is flat-topped to boot. The moral of the story is: people in Arkansas don't know what they're talking about.


Final thoughts:
Kyle and I are both inclined to wait until trip completion to post pictures.
Prodigal Summer was not Kingsolver's best work.
Star Anna came out with a third album and Gillian Welch a fifth.
New Orleans is next.
You guys suck.

On Noncommital Disappointment

I can't believe you guys! This time last year everyone was ballz to the wallz about the 3rd of July and the Folk Fest but I guess since I'm not there to shove beers in your face you all hibernated right through it. Are you alive even?


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Message relayed from Mountain Home, AR. I'll do a trip update in a day or two... This keyboard is as difficult as a Butte Blogger.

Smell ya later!

OUR BLOG IS DYING

what are we all going to do about it??? i vow to post at least twice a month. if at least it is only to say that i'm lame and i miss all of you.

Sweat City

Where is everybody? It is hot as balls in California.


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Hello from the Mighty Columbia

I am truly busy as Sam alluded. I just spent almost a month in Ellensburg, which is long enough for baby redwing blackbirds to learn to fly and leave the nest and a wildfire to be started and put out on my parents' property. Thanks to Solstice party attendees for putting all their fireperson skills to use in a time of crisis. It will be a year to remember.

Today we celebrate the Actual Summer Solstice in Longview, WA, which is our first Actual Road Trip Stop. Today we visit two eighty-year-olds and a bridge for squirrels. Tomorrow it's likely I'll wake up in the woods.

Business Time

So even though I only manage to post here once a month or so, I have been spreading the gospel of the GSS far and wide whilst tipsy. A month ago my roommate and I got free business cards that make no sense whatsoever beyond the facts that I listed this blog as my employment since I lack a real career and also tacked on the disclaimer "I'm probably drunk right now," which has been true about 90 percent of the time. I've passed them out in three different states over the past couple of weeks and have gained in return:
-2 free pitchers of beer
-1 free shot (and applause from everyone at the bar when I took it) and a free pint of Irish Death
-2 new Facebook friends
-5 business cards that actually make sense because real people who are not jokes in life gave them to me
-Many confused looks, then pointed glances at the exit. Also a guy I went on a date with stopped calling me.
... Mostly kidding about that last one. He was actually the first blatantly homophobic person I have met in Seattle, which was jarring, but it was nice to realize that there are so few homophobic types around here.
In other date type news, the driver of the bus I take every morning asked me out for coffee, which was nice of him. The bus is a sardine tin full of fishy surprises; I also recently learned from a strange smelling man in the front seat that the Nutcracker is actually about incest, furthering my conclusion that it's getting time to start biking everywhere.
Anyway. I'm headed to Europe in ten days having planned absolutely nothing, but I have been watching Locked Up Abroad and eating a lot of cheese in preparation. I'm traveling with my sis Apple, who apparently is this blog's number one fan and also more batshit then me, so we'll try to send a less rambly update before returning in late July!

None of us are dead! Just busy!

I'll write so soon.... I'm sorry....

i swear i'm not dead.

hey ya'll!!!!! guess what???? i still exist... which shouldn't be really surprising except for the fact that all the good people were supposed to be sucked up to heaven by some holy vacuum and the rest of us were just supposed to stay here and tear each other apart????? luckily, it was just another delusion by some crazy christian wackjob and didn't really mean anything. i did try to use it as an excuse to get out of going to work that day but when my boss casually retorted with that little word that donald trump is so fond of i gave up on my dreams of using my last day on the planet to do copious amounts of cocaine and show my boobs to everyone, and instead went and made really grumpy tourists coffee. for all day. other than that... things are not so normal around here. i have decided that i will not be going to norway (this is where you all sigh sadly) and instead will be staying in bozeman and enrolling in school again. i hope this will kick my life into high gear for a while because even though we all had to listen to and read sam's bitching for the last year i was secretly envious. i miss the hustle... not like the rap game (i get to do that on the weekends) but i just miss being so balls deep in projects that when i lay down at night i can actually sleep. makes sense no???? so that is what i am doing. as for me and russell... we are still friends and care for each other a lot... so don't freak out. i miss you all and now that sam is in butte i feel a gss reunion coming on. what are everyone's plans for june????

max---- te amo your awesome.

julia... take lots o photos

sam... i love you.

rachel... i love you more probably.

chynna---- i don't know you but your posts are interesting and it would be fun to meet you *hint hint come to butte*

is that it???? if we have a new contributor i missed it and it's not my fault.

ciao bellas!!!!!
(in my heaviest drag queen accent)

Unusually Calm

So I took a spontaneous trip to Montana and am, right at this very minute, sitting in Clark's living room with Julia + family as they talk about her road trip (should have jumped on this, it sounds AWESOME, though Julia was not willing to go to the world's most giant ball of yarn though so I'm headed to Ireland instead) and we digest an amazing breakfast.
Montana has been unusually tame. The wind has been crazy and people's houses are getting smashed all around us, but the fact that I remember everything that happened this weekend means that things have definitely changed. I miss the days of midget fights and free drugs from hobos (tags: first trip to Montana, alternate universe, MOM COME AND GET ME THINGS HAVE GOTTEN STRANGE) but I'm now feeling kind of inclined to maybe move here for a bit. We'll see.
Anyway, Julia was disappointed that I hadn't posted more so this is my whirlwind update, I told her I was intimidated by how fascinating and funny all the rest of y'all are. Congratulations, and carry on.

Now that I'm done with college and yet another commercially-driven holiday is behind me and the flower shop, I theoretically have more time to blog, but that doesn't mean I actually will. Because here is the thing. I have to move out of my house, "have fun with my family while they're in town," then get ready for our enormous road trip.

This is roughly our path. We leave Missoula May 18, and while I'm lounging around Ellensburg for a month, Clark and Kyle will be working for a friend of Clark's on her ranch in Nevada. They are going to build a straw bale structure of some kind; they've downscaled somewhat from their original goal so I'm not a hundred percent on what they're actually doing besides getting buff and tan. Then they'll come back up to Ellensburg, and after the Solstice party on June 18, we actually technically hit the road.

All the way west, then south, then fuckin' Grand Canyon camping for Fourth of July, then three steamy weeks at Clark's parents' house in Arkansas.

We will get to see America in all its shining glory.

Then, somehow, we're supposed to get all the way up the east coast and back to Missoula by the third week of August, giving Clark and Kyle enough time to get ready for fall semester (suckers). As of right now, we're set to be in Cleveland for Clark's birthday, August 16. We'll see how that goes.

Already getting ready for the birthday party.

Seriously, though, I can't really hang out on the blogosphere the next two weeks or so. Sorry, I'll blog all about Ellensburg when I get there.

Que hubo parceros?

The other day I went into a small grocery store to buy some food. The cashier handed me my items, and I replied with the customary "gracias!". Except instead of saying gracias I said "cuatro!"...which you may know and love in English as the number 4. I don't know where these mental slip-ups come from but it's basically shown me that being a Spanish major has its limitations.

Also, a few weeks ago someone spray painted on my house "No a la invasion imperialista en Libia" (No to the imperialist invasion of Lybia)...which makes me think someone out there knows I'm American and is blaming me for bombing Lybia. But I'm innocent. The only bombs I drop are news updates like the following: I'll be in Butte June 11th through June 27th and in that time I want to kiss each and everyone of you.

That is all.

I Demand a Turkey in a Pan

Hello Julia. I need to see this tattoo.

Hello Max. I need you to write a post someday. You are the worst one.

Hello Calvin. You are really actually the worst one.

Hello Rachel. 'Sup? You are probably still asleep because you stayed up watching the Royal Wedding. Why?

Hello Haylee. Do you ever wear headphones but not listen to music so you can eavesdrop on people? I'm doing that right now. I can't decide if I want to hear someone talk about me or what. I guess I just like to spy.

Hello Olive. How's Dexter? I'll be back home in two weeks to steal your dog and your boyfriend.

Hello Chynna. Would you be interested in doing some readings in Butte this summer?

Hello Internet. I've been trying to avoid being on you, but you have far too many fun games. It's almost finals week, which is a time for me to reflect on if my absurdly pricey education is worth it. I'm going to go with yes, it is.

me circa this very second

I think it's a valuable thing because it is teaching me that I am terrific and that other people are just just just awful. In this school I have been surrounded by so many whiney baby-childs that I can never ever again feel worthless. Even at my very lowest, at least I am better than some of these people. The teachers and facilities are top notch. I've grown exponentially as an artist and a thinker. I've developed self-esteem enough to consider myself above certain others. Valuable lessons up in here.

Ironically enough, the root of these people being terrible is a lack of humility. Uniformly, the worst of the worst at SAIC are the kids who hem and haw over every assignment. The ones who deflect criticism and roll their eyes. It's scary/sad how many of these types are around. There's a sense of entitlement here that I never felt in Montana (or anywhere else, for that matter).

Also I met Rachel here. That's worth $700,000 a semester I guess.

The only people to eavesdrop on right now are talking about House MD.