Hi LiveJournal!

It's been a long time, I know. I won't be upset if you disown me as a friend or delete my account. I haven't been around much lately thanks to things like jobs, mortgage payments and sleep but I promise I haven't forgotten you.

How could I? You brought me magical things like awesome people I never would have known otherwise and that great series of lip-sync videos that made the rounds a few years back. You were my first forray into "online social networking", unless you count friendster and I don't because that thing was a piece of shit.

I used to spend a lot of time going on and on about how my day was and what new band I liked and what form of alcohol gave me a headache the most. Gradually though I think I realized that reviewing the minutiae of my terribly average life was probably not that interesting to most people. I'm fairly decent with words, but even the most talented blogger runs out of ways to say "Work sucked!" or "You'll never believe what she was wearing!" or even "HiLookAtMeI'mAwesomeTellMeHowCuteIAmAsMuchAsPossible!"

What does all that mean to us as a couple? Well, I don't know. I appreciate every moment we have together but I can't invest the hours and hours I've spent trolling through posts looking for humor, emotion, or pictures of shirtless hairy dudes anymore (Thanks xTube!). I'll swing by to say hello every once in a while and maybe I'll get inspired to write something substantial now and then, but the interwebs is a big place with so much to see and so many bandwagons to jump aboard. It's all I can do to keep up.

So don't miss me too much. There isn't that much to miss anyway.
gL

PS- Despite my comment of jumping on bandwagons I still think Twitter is stupid.

Posted some pics of our place. There's both pre- and post-decorating shots. Check it:

Our home and stuff.

So we're all moved into the new house and my week of vacation is almost over. It wasn't really a relaxing time away from work, but it certainly was gratifying:

• Primered and painted three rooms.


• Reupholstered dining room chairs.


• Installed a new chandelier.


• Assembled a new bed, a new dresser, and two new bookcases.


• Vomited excellent decorating taste all over this place.

Pictures are forthcoming but not now. No, I have a date with the Fred. He's making Thai gumbo and there's a bottle of wine just waiting to be opened. We shall eat, drink, and be merry.

Standing in line at Planet Smoothie surrounded by kids between the ages of Disney and Barely Legal who all know the lyrics to the Good Charlotte song playing on the radio makes me feel old.

In other news, we close on the house on Friday. Time can't move fast enough.

I'm still buying a house. We close March 6th. I can't wait. Here's the online listing.

I'm fascinated by a new local artist. His name is Christian Faur. Peep his shit. Don't miss the crayon work.

Other than the house thing, life is pretty swell. Work is calming down and I can actually spend time with friends again. Fred's birthday was yesterday. We went to Ikea to celebrate, shopping for ideas and checking out hot dads. He said it was the best birthday ever.

Just over a week ago I got pre-approved for a home loan.

Two days later I was out with a Realtor looking at houses.

Three days after that I looked at one property for the second time.

Yesterday my parents were in town and we went to look at the house for a third time.

Today I made an offer.

Let the fun begin.

So yeah, I might be buying a house and stuff.

Also, we have a black president, which is awesome. The media went on and on about the historical significance of the inauguration and I am in full agreement. It is historical and incredible and such a step forward.

What irked me a little about the whole thing is that some folks got up in arms about how the news media kept going on about it. And the black community went on and on about what a massive event it was for them. Here's the thing though, if the black community could alone elect a president then Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton would have been in office years ago. This is a monumental time for the civil rights movement of the 60s, all those folks who truly gave everything they had for something they believed in, but in the greater scheme of things, I think it's monumental for our society.

It isn't just that a black man holds the most powerful position in the land, but that a country as diverse as ours, racially, economically, politically, spiritually, and any other adverb you can throw in there elected him. We made that choice together. To me that's the most important aspect of this whole shindig. I guess that means I'm on board with celebrating that we voted for change, but really I'm just stoked crusty old white dudes are no longer the only actual options we have to lead our country.

I woke up this morning and looked at the top of my left hand. Underneath the hair I've grown there in the last ten years, I noticed a list of numbers written in blue ink, the result of a 12-hour inventory marathon yesterday that began at 4:00am. Many people became upset and infuriated by the end of the day, being asked, nay told to stay until everything was complete. Not wanting to waste anymore time, I quickly realized the search for scratch paper to document these numbers was not going to help the cause and resorted to a blue BIC and my hand as a temporary resting place for the information.

I used to wake up in the morning with a word rubber-stamped on that hand or depending on how long ago "used to" means, with a big "X" hastily drawn in black Sharpie across it. In fact, in the mid-to-late 90s and early 2000s, it would seem I had a permanent stain on that hand. A few times a week, me and some friends, sometimes just me would fork over the $3-$7 cover charge for an all-ages show somewhere in the Chicago-land area. More often than not, we were out west on Fullerton, about halfway between Western Ave. and California Ave. at a dingy, rundown shithole called the Fireside Bowl.

Last night I stumbled across this photo set and the flashbacks began. First I remembered the facade, the tan paneled exterior with the red trim and detail. The font that read "FIRESIDE BOWL". The giant bowling pin that falsely advertised "BOWLING". Though bowling did happen on occasion, it wasn't sport that made this beat-up building special. It was the incredible roster of bands that pulled up in broke-down vans hauling trailers filled with road-worn instruments.

I spent a good hour last night reading through all the old flyers posted here. I actually remembered picking up some of them and stuffing them in my bag after shopping at Reckless Records. I recalled the anticipation of first hearing about some of the shows listed. Most of all, I absolutely remember playing on that stage in the corner with my old band notaword, some of the shows we played are even listed on these flyers. It brought on a wave of nostalgia I haven't felt in a long time. Not an introspective what-the-hell-happened-to-me sort of experience, but a damn-those-are-good-memories sort of reminiscence.

I saw the last Los Crudos show there, the one where Martin jumped into the crowd and almost started a massive brawl not five feet away from me with the disgusting goth-punks hurling anti-gay insults at him. I saw Death Cab for Cutie open a four-band lineup, the first of many times I not only saw them because of another band, but also realized how terrible they are live. I played gigs with Appleseed Cast, Shiner, and An Albatross, who by the way used to have a name that was at least 20 words long and set up in the middle of the floor and destroyed a 7-minute set so incredibly that they were asked to stick around and play the late show as well. I met my first gay indie/punk/underground/whatever musician friends there and realized I could be a fag and still play in rock bands.

The Fireside Bowl will always hold some of my greatest memories. The last time notaword played there we all snagged a bowling pin as a keepsake. That was in 2001, maybe 2002? A while ago. I still have the bowling pin. It looks as beat up as the venue itself: chipped, stained, dented, battered by years of abuse. I've amassed quite a few nice things in the years since, but that single grimy bowling pin, certainly standing out among the Jonathan Adler pottery, numerous pieces of art, and pricey modern furniture will always be one of the most special artifacts decorating my house, no matter how far away I live from both the place or the era.

I know it's just the first full week of 2009, but Animal Collective just released what might prove to be the best album of the year. Merriweather Post Pavillion really is as incredible as the cool kids say it is. Even if you've never liked them before, at least give it a listen. I can't stop listening to it. Try "My Girls". If you aren't shakin' your groove thing even a little by the end, then you have no soul.

On a somewhat related note, I've decided that my next band, after Unicorn Glüe Factory, will be called The Roses of St. Olaf. Get it?!!?

Things that were awesome about 2008:

• Columbus, OH.


• Rag & Bone.


• Getting promoted.


• Spending too much money on art.


• The Hold Steady and The Loved Ones at Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland.


• Our dog Daisy Fuentes.


• Friends, old and new.


• Records by: TV On the Radio, Cut Copy, Nachtmystium, Flying Lotus, Fucked Up, Torche, The Hold Steady, Vivian Girls, Fuck Buttons, and plenty of other excellent bands.


• Converse by John Varvatos on sale at DSW.


• Fred

I survived another Black Friday.

No one got killed at my store.

Take that Wal-Mart.

I like this Kings of Leon record.

We saw Twilight last night. Iron & Wine just made a shitload of money.

I can't wait for Christmas. The gift-giving is shaping up nicely, and so is the presentation.

My Christmas cards are going to be awesome.

I miss people I like a bunch. The internet has been awesome for making friends from all over. Along with that comes the fact that you don't get to see those people enough. Not even close.

That being said, this is a shout-out to my homies, near and far. Ya'll still my bitches. Keep it sleazy.

UDF bear with the Iron Maiden vans - m4m - 34 (short north)

My boyfriend has a craigslist stalker.

In case you were wondering, having the stomach flu is nothing like spending an afternoon playing with puppies in a magic valley filled with leaves made of cashmere.

It's more like an invisible scaly claw is constantly reaching inside your stomach and endlessly twisting your intestines into painful pretzels.

I'm just saying...

Fred and I went to Chicago this weekend. It was a brief getaway spent with closest friends. I played tour guide pointing out alleys that I'd thrown up in and disgusting strip clubs where teenage boys give blowjobs to elder gays for crack. I pointed out nice things too.

Paul Smith scarves, while gorgeous and lovely, are entirely too short. Also, I wish I could have justified purchasing the electric blue Balenciaga scarf. It was long and soft and radiated the same comfort that my grandmother used to when she handed me a piece of hard candy and said, "Don't tell your mother."

Rogues Gallery might just be the best thing ever from Maine aside from lobster and whereispaco. My love for John Varvatos is enduring, but some of his shit is too fucking gay and will someone out in LA please beat down Christian Audigier. Ed Hardy is just awful.

Those are my fashion rants. There's more I'm sure but these were the tops.

Fred had fun and got to meet some of my peeps. Saturday night we saw Project Runway winner Jay McCarroll out and about. Apparently he has some documentary coming out that he worked on and it was premiering at the Chicago Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. That doesn't excuse his hair. I'm sure he's great and funny and a thrill to be around but when I was in close proximity to him, peeing was a much higher priority than blowing smoke up his ass.

We drove home late last night but not without stopping at numerous truck stops to admire the quality craftmanship that goes into making dreamcatchers with a portrait of Jesus in the center. Remote, rural areas scare me sometimes.

The temperature is dropping in mid-Ohio and it feels like fall. At least for a week or so until, I'm told, we fast forward to winter. It's cold and stuff and going outside with the dog in the morning is a daunting but necessary task each morning.

My parents were here this past weekend. I was determined that they wouldn't wear me out like usual, but instead we played it cool, taking our time walking around the neighborhood and just enjoying each other's company. I had to restock on candles from Paul Robinett and found a new one that's just dandy: Pipe Tobacco. It smells like my grandpa.

Daisy is still awesome, though she's in quarantine right now due to a slight limp that won't go away. We're doping her up on painkillers to make her chill out. Not playing in the backyard with her BFF Mia is killing her, but tough love is sometimes the only option. Fred and I fell asleep on the floor watching Baby Mama last night while Daisy hogged every bit of space she could between us. It was incredible.

The remaining days before holiday insanity at work are swiftly ticking by. I worked over 50 hours last week moving merchandise and unpacking boxes and trying to get everything done at once. I survived but it wasn't easy. Once everything is set and in place, we'll be good to go and the philosophy "Stack'em high and let'em fly" will firmly be in place. Getting to that point though is a lot of hard work.

I've got a couple more weekends off before the mandatory 6-day work week starts. One of those is Halloween. The other is a three day mini-vacation in the middle of November just before the season truly kicks off. Fred and I have decided to go to Chicago. It's been so long since I've visited and this is the last chance I'll get before 2009. I can't wait. If Daisy didn't vomit every time she got in the car she'd come with us, but she does so she's not.

I've made a decision. I do not like Marnie Stern's music. To most people that will not be relevant. To others I probably lose some cool points, but it's annoying and crappy noise that I just don't get. On the other hand, I do like Fuck Buttons and Flying Lotus and we're going to see Fucked Up tonight. Fred wants to hug the lead singer. I'm shooting higher. I want to make out with him.

Fred and I were discussing the most uncomfortable overhead announcement possible at a pharmacy or grocery. This is the result:

"Can I get a price check on a RID Complete Elimination Kit, a double pack of Fleet enemas, 2 packs of Trojan condoms, the red ones, and an Ortega Taco Dinner Kit?"

Any other suggestions?

I've been in my new position at work for three weeks now. It's been an overwhelming experience at times, stressful and complicated and I took over the department during a time of massive transition, only adding the intensity I expected. Overall I'm still excited but there are moments when I feel completely inadequate.

My desk is a mound of printed out e-mails, reports, training alerts, and scratch pieces of receipt paper with notes to myself. I've had no chance to actually organize my things in there and a retail manager in the office is not a good retail manager. In reality, the only opportunity to make my desk look more like a desk and less like a garbage dump is to go in on my day off. I'm not opposed to doing that except right now I don't really want to. I'm all for putting in the extra time to get things done, but I kind of think three 11-hour days in a row last week was sufficient. Also, after tomorrow I won't be in the store again until next Monday. I'm not off work, just won't be working in my store so the growing pile of dead tress will probably exist even longer.

The business trip I anticipated is canceled. No Atlanta. No Houston. While is was for work, I was still looking forward to just going somewhere else. I used to travel so much and I loved it, but since moving to Columbus I've only left the city once. I love it here, but I still like to get away. Unfortunately I won't receive any vacation time until February. I'm somehow trying to fit in a extended weekend where I can run away for a few days, but as the holiday season comes closer and closer into view, that idea is seeming less and less likely.

All in all life is real good and shit. Fred still kicks major ass and I'm feeling more and more like a part of the community here in the C-Bus. It's the most I've felt at home since leaving Chicago and I've only been here 7 months. I "get" the city and the city "gets" me. I don't see myself wanting to leave anytime soon. In fact, in the next year I plan on being a homeowner which is exciting and terrifyingly grown-up of me. I guess that happens as you, you know, grow up and stuff.

Flying Lotus already made my favorite hip-hop record of the year (and it's instrumental!!!), but now he has made what could prove to be the most incredible music video of any genre for 2008. Seriously, please watch this and feel enlightened, but DO NOT WATCH IT AT WORK or else you might get judged and/or fired. If you are working, don't forget to check out this video later, at home, when no one else is around except for you and the two lovemaking fools on your computer screen.

Also, there's flashing lights:



xtreem_aaron should totally be down with this cause he tries to convince me that Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! is worth watching and I can't get down with that.

In the immortal works of Tony!, Toni!, and of course, Toné!:

It feels good.

I can't embed the video because that apparently would be the end of the world, but you should really get nostalgic on this shit: Click for magic!

Also, holy crap is the new record from TV on the Radio good.