Today I’m doing laundry and packing for my three-day sojourn to Mount Pleasant, where I will work my ass off and sleep only six hours a night while I perform the duties of the Seva Desk at Amma’s programs. It will be wonderful and exhausting and I’m really excited. (If you’re coming to see Amma and need any little thing, come find me at the Seva Desk and I’ll help. It’ll say Seva Desk right on it, and it will be inside the hall.)

It’s raining. Looks like it’ll rain all day. This will make cleaning out the inside of the Jeep somewhat problematic.

Anyway, I probably won’t post again until Friday. I’m sure there’s Internet access somewhere on campus, but I’ll be too busy to ferret it out, probably.
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We did go! The eBay guy paid! I’d sat moping in the living room staring at the TV feeling sorry for myself, then decided to come upstairs to email the motel and cancel our reservation, and LO AND BEHOLD there was an email from Paypal saying we’d been paid!

Fucking halleluia! I skittered downstairs like my feet were on fire and told Mr. Brett, who got up and walked right out the door with me. He also got me to Chicago – from our house – in five hours, so we didn’t even miss the opening act, Ethel. We only saw their last piece, but still! FIVE HOURS! Door to door!

The show was a sort of accoustic-slash-unplugged thing, which I hadn’t expected. No band, no bass, no drums. Naked. The Cadillac Palace is gorgeous and our tickets were pretty good. Fifth row, far left side. Ethel was so interesting and fresh and intense that I’m going to have to feed some to my iPod. Even Brett dug them – they’re a string quartet that play like a band and they emote like nothing you’ve ever seen. (You can tell just by looking at them that none of them got laid in high school, but they’re monster players now.)

Joe Jackson, as it turns out, is totally gay. (Perhaps I’m the only person who didn’t know this, but I’ve never really been a fan of his. Although it does seem that if you’re an English singer/songwriter whose main instrument is piano, your odds of being queer are increased astronomically.) I enjoyed Joe’s set a lot – he does write some fantastic fucking changes – although I did find his vocals a bit rough for the first half of his set… I think he hadn’t warmed up, actually. The crowd was interesting because they were either there for Joe or Todd, meaning there were Todd-rockers snuggled in next to tony gay couples all over the seating plan. Joe’s adorably funny – his bits of patter between tunes were cute and got quite a few laughs, and who doesn’t die for a luv’ly Englishman-living-in-New-York accent? His piano chops are hot, and his purple swing-coat suit jacket was pretty hot too. Brett leaned over and whispered in my ear after Joe played Stepping Out and said, “Oh, I finally realized who this guy is.”

Todd was your basic rock god at the top of his game. He came out, picked up his axe, and blazed right through accoustic versions of a couple of old songs. His chops and voice were tight. The second tune he played was one of those two hits he had in the 70’s – either I Saw The Light or Hello It’s Me – and he’d rewritten the changes to these gorgeous, fucked up, suspended inversions… he actually hit some very crazy sus 11 chord (or some such loveliness) at one point and stopped the song to say, “I want you to listen to this chord. Just in case you think I’m some kind of misguided Dave Matthews or something… I’d like to see him play this chord,” and then he launched back into the song. (He also told us shortly thereafter that he was messing with his nose not because the snowman had come but because he’d neglected to trim his nosehairs, AND he played Bang On The Drum All Day on the fucking ukelele. I love that man.)

After some guitar stuff, he sat at the grand piano and did a piano set, which included The Viking Song (of all things) and the other 70’s hit, the one he hadn’t played earlier. (Must have been Hello It’s Me. I think I Saw The Light was the guitar tune.) I knew every song Todd did save one, and had a great time seeing him again. It was totally a fan’s performance.

It wasn’t a very good Intro To Todd show for Brett, though, because not all the songs necessarily show to their best advantage when the rest of the band is missing, but I dug it so much I can hardly stand myself, and that was the point after all.

After Todd’s set, Joe and Ethel came back out and they all did three more tunes as an ensemble: Pretending To Care (off of Todd’s A Capella album), and While My Guitar Gently Weeps (wherein Todd’s little amp shit the bed and was taken off stage by a roadie WHO DID NOT LOOK AT ALL LIKE TODD). The encore was Black Maria.

I loved the show and was SO HAPPY to have been able to make it! By 11:30 we were on our way to our motel.

We checked in and left immediately, and walked about five blocks until we caught a cab. The cab dropped us at Fat Joe’s and we both got tattoos. I did not get Karajishi, alas, because they quoted me $415 for the whole thing and I didn’t want to get a partial, but I did get a new low back tattoo (beneath the one I already had) that I’m quite pleased with, and Brett got a pin-up girl on his inner right arm. She’s adorable – a cartoony naked 40’s chick in a Navy peacoat. We’re both pretty pleased.

After we got inked, we left the tattoo parlor around two in the morning and caught a cab to Kingston Mines, where we stayed until 4:30. We watched the last part of a set in the big room, then moved to the side room for the final act of the night. Brett kept trying to get me to go ask if I could sit in (“I’ve been waiting for something like this for eight years, Mushlette.” he said. “Go up there and kick ass!”) since they were letting people play with them, but I lamed out – I realized by the end of the night that I should have gone up and sat in, but it’s weird in a venue you don’t know in a town that’s not your town with musicians you’ve never even seen before to just walk up and say, “Can I sit in? I know I’m a white girl you’ve never seen before and have no reason to trust, but just give me a twelve-bar blues in G…”

Ah well, live and learn. Next time we’re there and they’re letting people sit in, I’ll just walk right up there and grin. THAT would be fun: to kick ass at a well-known Chicago blues club and then just leave and go back to Iowa. Heh.

We got back to our motel room around five in the morning, showed each other our new tattoos and did the necessary tattoo care regime (wash with mild soap and water, pat dry, apply ointment, stare at them in the mirror, compliment each other’s new ink, etc.) and then we went to bed and had… um… we didn’t get to sleep until well past six.

AND THEN WE GOT UP AT NINE.

We checked out, drove down town, got lattes at a Starbucks and spent a lovely 45 minutes reading the paper, and then wandered around aimlessly killing time until Gino’s opened at noon. We ordered an extra-large pie (tomato, garlic, eggplant, spinach, and ricotta) , ate one slice each, and had the other ten pounds boxed to bring home.

Then we drove home. It was a long, long, looong drive after drinking until 4:30 and getting only three hours of sleep, but we’re home and the dogs were glad to see us. I had so much fun, Brett had so much fun, we’re both really happy with our new tattoos, and we managed to blow enough cash that we don’t have to suffer any nagging feelings of flushness. (Snort!) I’m going to try to wait until dark before I crash, but I doubt I’ll make it. Especially since I just ate another slice of Gino’s pie and am feeling rather food coma-ish.

I had so much fun! I had so much fun! I had so much fun! Not only did I get to see Todd, but I got ink, and it basically counts as an anniversary trip since we were married in May. YAY!

…zzzzzZzzZzzzzzzzzZzzzzzzzz…

The guy didn’t come through. So we’re not going. I’m out a hundred dollars worth of tickets I can’t sell, and probably the hotel fee as well for not cancelling 24 hours in advance.

This sucks. I’ve never wanted a mere couple hundred dollars in cash so bad in my entire life.

I’m going to deal with my crushing disappointment by taking a fucking nap.

When Brett and I go to Chicago, we like to stay at The Lakeside Motel because it’s cheap, weird, and centrally located.

The last time we went to Chicago was in 2002, and I’d totally forgotten the motel’s name and address. After literally hours of googling, I finally found it. Whew. And only 8 miles from the Cadillac Palace theatre, where Todd‘s playing!

We’re leaving for Columbia, MO and Brett’s mom can’t let our dogs out because she’s out of town too!

We’ll be back tomorrow, but hell… Somebody please let my dogs out tonight? Tomorrow morning? Ack!

Joe’s sitting at a green table under a sign that says ‘Spanish 21’. He’s smoking a cigarette, drinking a cocktail. His hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a very stylish shirt. Jason and I stand behind him and watch him play four hands against the dealer.

Brett approaches, seats himself, and places a chip in the little circle on the felt.

Joe’s hand ends, and he says to Don, “I don’t mind if you take a moment to give him,” and he tilts his head the tiniest amount to his right, “the spiel on how to play.”

People sitting at tables in casinos begin to comunicate in tiny little movements. Sometimes all that moves of them are their hands. They utterly cease to point. Dealers don’t need anything more than a token movement; Don turns to Brett. “Have you ever played this game before?” Brett shakes his head.

Joe organizes his chips, sips his drink. He moves his ashtray a few millimeters.

The dealer says, “Well, there are no tens.”

And Jason – quiet, reticent Jason – explodes. Into a single syllable he could not have held back if he’d wanted to:

“Ah!” he says.

In it was such relief, such understanding. I think I actually heard tumblers snick into place in his head! “Ah!” he says, but what he means is “I see! The missing detail! The game becomes clear!”

It was hysterical. Perhaps you had to be there. It was the funniest “Ah!” ever uttered, in the history of “Ah!”s. I think I laughed for five minutes.

“Ah!” I quoted, giggling, pleased with being witness to that moment, that ineffable sensation of suddenly getting it, of collecting a satisfying little piece of information from the world.

I adore that feeling.

“That was so funny!” I told him.

“One takes these small victories,” he said, grinning sideways at me, but but actually watching the table with that easy concentration of his, “whenever they come.”

An autumnal toast to us all: may it always be so fun to learn something new!
Continue reading Ching! →

I’m on my way home from a two week vacation in Colorado and will soon resume regular updates here on the ‘box.

Just you wait ’til you see the vay-cay pics… especially from the Telluride Blues & Brews fest! Yee haw!

Yesterday, Joy & Ella and I stayed at Ron’s all day. I knitted Brett a dark-grey-almost-black hat for this weekend (Telluride will be, like, five degrees at night… and we’ll be camping like total hippy freaks) and read Ender’s Shadow from cover to cover. Joy and Ella baked a cake and Joy made dinner, we all spent some time in the hot tub (Ella went twice), and I did some housekeeping and laundry.

Today I slept until ten because I was up ’til 2:30 finishing Ender’s Shadow. (Yum.) After I got up and clean and dressed, we three girls loaded into the Jeep and drove to Boulder to meet the guys for lunch. We went to a pub and everyone had burgers; I of course had a Gardenburger.

After foodies, the guys went back to work and we girls did a little shopping on the ped mall; I got two more O.S.C. books in the Ender’s universe at Boulder Book Store and some lip shit from The Body Shop, and then we said our goodbyes at the jobsite and drove on to our main goal: Boulder’s local yarn store, Shuttles, Spindels, & Skeins.

It was so wonderful! The place was huge and packed with so much great yarn. I bought a set of needles and some yarn, and tomorrow I’m gonna make myself a warm hat in a brown/garnet colorway for Telluride.

We were planning on going after that to a giant Salvation Army-style thrift store that Joy had heard about, but we were tired and Ella was at the end of her stamina, so we drove home. We passed the guys’ trucks at a bar along Hwy 72.

Ella fell asleep on our drive back to Ron’s, and woke up with a horrible earache like I used to get when I was little. Joy thinks it might be because she wasn’t awake to talk and move her jaw around I went to look it up to explain to her why her ear was aching, and this is why my ears hurt all the damn time and I can’t hear anything driving up and down the mountain: some lovely issue with a little tube in my ear keeps my ears from popping properly. I have always had a hard time in unpressurized plane cabins and driving up or down mountains; I guess I used to cry constantly when my folks drove me over passes. Poor Ella’s been crying almost constantly since we got home, except for when I asked her to ‘doctor’ my knee (I scraped it superficially tripping in the driveway while chasing after our rotten pack of dogs) and when we were explaining how air pressure differences were making her ear drum hurt. Joy called the guys and asked them to grab some asprin on the way home and it sounds like they just pulled in. It’s 6:59… and they’ve been off work since 3:30. Heh.

I’m off to help comfort Miss Ella now that her poppy’s home with aspirins. Ciao!
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Brett has some crazy idea about leaving tonight… tomorrow morning, actually… “around two or so.”

“Two? Or so?”

“Yeah.”

“In the morning?!”

“Yeah. Gotta get through Nebraska while it’s dark out, you know.”

Two in the morning?! Jeez!

But I guess it will put us there on Saturday afternoon, a nice time to arrive. I guess. But shit, even guys who go fishing don’t leave ’til like four or five, right?

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I just spent two hours at the car wash cleaning the Jeep. And I didn’t even wash it.

I put money in the vaccuum four times. I bought one of those Armorall sponge packets and a chamois and cleaned the absolute hell out of the dash and console.

You can hardly tell. It’s depressing. The Jeep has an entirely beige interior, so the difference between dirty and clean isn’t much.

Once I’m done with this post, I’m going out to wash the windows. The inside of the windows. Hopefully I can get Brett to wash the outsides, now that we have an outside faucet and a hose.

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Instead of packing, I spent the morning slapping together a rather half-assed set of pages for Grand Orleans Hotel. I’ve been waiting for weeks and weeks for this client to send me content, and of course he finally sent some yesterday!

I told him I’m leaving for two weeks and probably won’t be able to work on it (it depends on if I can find a PC with a DSL or not) and that I’d get something up in the meanwhile. Hopefully it will satisfy.

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I still need to fold laundry, pack, wash the retrievers (they smell so bad), make the bed, do the dishes, bring in those three rugs that have been on the laundry line for most of two weeks, remember phone and PDA and GameBoy chargers, find CDs, buy fuses, remember water, tell Joe how much to feed the cat, find dog leashes (and ideally collars with tags on them), get Brett to organize the tools he’s taking, and load the Jeep. And bathe. And shave my armpits for heaven’s sake.

And it’s six already!

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Not so bad, really, considering that we’re not leaving for eight more hours!

…except that I’ll probably have to sleep for six of them to be able to wake up at two. Snort!