this imploding heart

lay your burdens down

The instructor refers to himself in the third person about a third of the time.

"...and I can tell you anything that I want, but it doesn't make it true. Don't go repeating Mohammed and getting in fights in bars!"

He seems sweet and interesting, but the class is balls-out politically motivated, if you didn't see that coming from the texts.

The -Getting to Know You- assignment is to choose an 'encapsulating object' and write about why it sums up who you are.

I'm having a hard time choosing something, but the first 2 things to pop into my head are objects I employ when I'm severely emotional. The first being my skates, the second being that gigantic pink square dancing skirt.

I'm hesitant to use either of these, because I'm not sure I can stand in front of a classroom full of people and declare "Sometimes, for little or no reason, I get so sad that I throw up. I can avoid throwing up by lacing myself into these secondhand low top rollerskates and pushing around the sidewalk until I'm too exhausted to stand up. Other times, for little or no reason, I get so happy I feel like I'm going to explode. I avoid exploding by skating around madly until I fall."

and the horse died standing up

Anthropology 202 starts tonight at six. I went to the bookstore on my lunchbreak to pick up the texts, but when I saw the three 'Required' books, I immediatly recognized them as 'Not actually required. Not really.'
I may get there tonight and see everyone else sitting around 3 hardback novels (Enemy Aliens by David Cole, Rogue State by William Blum and Our Kind by Marvin Harry) but I kind of doubt it. These look a bit more book-reporty to me.

I also called the king county voters office today to find out if they'd changed my address and why the hell hadn't they sent me a voter card when I registered over 2 months ago. The woman who answered the phone said that the vendor they'd hired to distribute the cards was having a hard time keeping up with demand, so I should let everyone know that they can find their polling place online and vote whether they've received their card yet or not. Hear that, washington state? You can pretty much just show up and vote.

First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain, then there is

Man, I really hope you're right about this.

Because when it's all over, I don't want to find out that all along my creator was actually a giant sandwich, and all my life I've been eating sandwiches and thus eliminating my only chance at an afterlife by infuriating my Breaded Master.

Hey, do you think the sandwich is ever going to go out of style? I mean, if the Earl of Sandwich asked for meat between bread in 1762 and we've been eating sandwiches ever since, do you think there's a possibility it can become an obsolete method of preparing foods? Like eating cats, dogs and horses; when did they become cute enough to not eat? Bunnies are cute. Tons of people eat bunnies. They're RODENTS, for sandwich sake. Eating cats must have just gone out of style at some point in our culture and we've yet to pick it back up.

Bunnies are delicious, but they scream like a child when they know you're coming for them.

My mom called me last night to tell me that Mount St. Helens is expected to erupt again this week. As always, she asked me to put some water aside. I usually blow her off on that kind of thing, but have you seen the news lately? Nature is going absolutely apeshit. Maybe I should buy a box of dust masks.

(Is everyone who died prior to 1762 going to meet their Breaded Master by default?)

why in every version of the events shown here

I was getting ready to complain about already feeling trapped by the winter when i realized that today is the last day of my "summer vacation", meaning that I will be starting classes again tomorrow and 2/5ths of my work week is now absorbed.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how I should start swimming, or weightlifting, or something that makes my blood pump a little faster. I know that I'll generally feel better when I do, but because I don't feel better NOW, it's hard to make myself go in the first place. I also tend to crap out on that kind of self-commitment after a week or two, so I'm already depressed about disappointing my future self.

Perhaps school will be a motivator. Once classes start, I'm never, ever going to see Cake again, because he goes to school or works every night now, which means he'll be on restaurant-schedule (wake up late, work late, stay out till early next morning, sleep, repeat) all the time. I've been granted access to his extra bike, and with no handsome distractions, perhaps I'll overcome my fears and take to the streets.

I think I would taken it up earlier, but biking is one of the things I'm rather hesitant to do in my costume. Not so much the skirts, but the shoes. I just bought myself some new fluevogs (I WILL NOT be outdone, cake.) and I worry that I'll kick off and immediatly wedge $190 worth of quality footwear between the spokes.

So keds and pants, here I come. Probably.

and a pink panama with a purple hat band

Today is Cake's birthday, so I was finally able to give him the present I ordered a month ago.

*

They have 9 different angels flying about the tread, and they read 'Resists Alkali, Water, Acid, Fatigue and Satan'. We'll take all the help we can get.

Perhaps you are saying, "Sonya! Boys don't want icky dumb shoes! They want Matches! And Action Figures! And Explosion Noises!"

But I think he really loved them. And I love few things more than giving someone something they will use and love.

*Image from www.fluevog.com. I heart fluevog.

Happy Birthday, NSALAZAR!

Oh man, you guys missed it. We had a great time at the ol' Derb last night.

First, Matt Fu played as 1985. I've had the pleasure of seeing Matt play in different incarnations for several years now, and I really enjoy watching his songwriting style develop. It looks as though Matt may never cause me to shake my ass, but you can't say enough about the benefits of slow dances. I was particularly pleased to hear him really open up his voice and sing BIG this time. I think it gives his sweet and beautiful songs a shot of pizzaz.

Second, my socks were totally knocked off by Jack Saturn's killer pop numbers. A little vocally reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian, Jack as The Online Romance played a sweet and toe-tappy but don't-miss-a-word set. Tim wasn't kidding when he said you should check out those MP3s. Jack was a big crowd pleaser, and a damn nice guy.

Tim as Circus of the Stars wrapped things up nicely, closing out the tour with a mix of favorites, old and new. Hearing Tim play is always extremely nostalgic for me, as his music was a big part of the first 2 years of my life in Seattle; not only the music he created himself, but all the bands and styles he introduced me to. Like Matt, I've had the pleasure of watching Tim's music change and grow over a few years, so it was really fun to hear things I was familiar with in an infantile form realized with a few years of practice and refinement backing them up. Crisper guitar and clearer vocals. It was great! Not to mention the last minute addition of the recently wed Rick on Banjo, which always makes the ladies melt.

Take note people. Banjos make ladies melt.

It's got a backbeat, you can't lose it

I am the announcement queen this week. No. Imperial Badass! I am the announcement Imperial Badass this week.

There's gonna be a show at the Derby tonight, Seattle! And YOU want to come! (so long as You /= Stalker, Thief or Jerk. Stalkers, Thieves and Jerks should go see The Two Fifths at the Pink Door, they're really good!)

the online romance, 1985, and circus of the stars
tuesday, september 21st, 8pm, $ (donations for jack, the touring act)
@the derby house
Email for Directions

Here's a synopsis from Tim.

the online romance is from portland, or and is jack saturn's
pop music project. you'll love it. go listen to the mp3s and tell me you
don't so i can punch you in the eye.

this is our first show (1985, and CotS) back from tour.
matt (1985) and i have been on tour since august 16th, where we trekked across the nation to take the streets during the republican national convention. i booed at people and matt got arrested at a die-in. good times.

Come on, Seatown. We'll drink some beer and dance around the derby in our stocking feet.

Don't play that song for me

My work computer passed away this morning, taking with it my email and various other work related things. This isn't a big deal. The big deal is that it ate my Itunes. My precious precious days and days of work-sanctioned entertainment, gone. All my mixtapes, everything I've borrowed from anybody, loads of albums that I loaded and then disposed of, no more.

I'm generally pretty good at accepting things that no one can change. What's the use of expending all that energy if it isn't going to do anything, right? But oh man, I wish there was an Itunes genie that would pop out of the tilde key and bring me back my Adam Ant through Wilco.

your love is like a tidal wave

Sometimes my heart acts up and aches in places it was formerly broken. Today the cold air is making it ache around the "Why do you get upset with me because you're doing something you said you would do? How was I to know you didn't actually want to do it?" line, and I am going home sick.

I am going home sick because of the thunderous cough in my chest and the way my muscles feel wrapped in aluminum foil. At least that's what I'll say when you ask. I am actually going home sick because my heart is aching around the break lines AND my muscles feel like they're wrapped in aluminum foil and I can't fake a smile for the life of me. I already tried to fake seven of them today and they all fell flat. And one was so poor it was almost offensive.

Petition to re-instate the Assault Weapons Ban

Now, you kids know that I love me some firearms. One of the first things my father said to Cake when they met was "Sonya was a better shot with a rifle when she was eight than most full grown men." Guns are a big part of most of my early childhood memories, but I've never killed anything I didn't subsequently run after, carry out of the woods, thank, clean, cook, and eat. (And I've shot a ridiculously small number of things. Maybe 3, tops. I've run over more than that.)

I won't touch a firearm while in the city or when children or pets are untethered within 400 yards. However, one of the things I miss most about Idaho is going to the firing range at the neck of the river, laying on my stomach propped up on my elbows in the dirt with the .22, taking my sweet time to line everything up, and firing. The cycle of Silence-Careful Concentration-Explosion was intensely soothing, and I'd stay there until dusk.

But you know what? Nobody needs an assault weapon. The only thing an assault weapon is good for is killing a bunch of people who are running for thier lives.

So please, if you'd like to see the ban back up and running,Click Here and sign at the bottom

New Plays!

Annex Theatre presents the Hothouse Playwrights Festival 2004

For two weeks, playwrights Rachel Atkins, Lisa Konoplisky, Kate E. Ryan, and Jose Teodoro will work with directors Tom Milewski, Matthew Fontaine, Makaela Pollock and Bret Fetzer —and a host of local actors—to create new pieces of theater in a laboratory-like setting with the support of Annex Theatre's staff and company.   The event will culminate in four public performances. Each performance will be followed by an audience/artist discussion about the Hothouse process. The Thursday night performance on September 30th will be followed by a gala with the artists.

During the two weeks the writers are in residence, Annex will also host public readings of previously written works by each writer.  These readings will take place at the cafe at Richard Hugo House and will be offered at no cost to the public.

Performance Dates:
     Playwright Readings September 20th and 21st, 7pm
     Hothouse Performances of new work September 30th, October 1st and 2nd, 8pm
     There is a matinee performace October 2nd at 2pm

Performance Locations:
     The Playwright Readings will be at the Richard Hugo House, 1634 11th Ave
     The Hothouse Performances will be at the Capitol Hill Arts Center, 1621 12th Ave

Ticket Price: Playwright Readings are free, Hothouse Performances are $10
Annex Reservation Line: 206.728.0933
For more information, go to www.annextheatre.org

don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy

I've got 4 inches of paper to sort (first by letter, then by number, then by date) and then data-enter.

My new boss asked me what my career goals are. I said I desperately want a position that will allow me to go to the bathroom whenever I want.

"You don't want to move toward something more....specific?"

"Well, I've been answering phones for more than 5 years now, and I think my priorities are pretty straight. I don't really care what you want me to do, but I'm tired of having to ask permission to pee."

but I would still rather be one of those guys who sweeps the street or rides a bike around giving directions to tourists.

go round the outside

I voted in the Washington primaries last night. After my (actually kind of researched) choices for governor and senator and attorney general, I picked judges by choosing male-female-male-female and representatives by whether or not their names made them sound young. Yay, Democracy. It's Democrazy!

everybody happy as they could be

Oh love, how I wish you could remember all the outdoor dances I imagined for us. In evenings on lawns with bandshells and just enough light to run barefoot with our wine sloshing up the sides of the glass. How I could breathe out and leave my expectations. How you could breathe out and leave your addictions and oh, we'd be so light. We'd be so light that when we ran, the wind billowing in your jacket would lift you clean off the ground for a second. We'd be so light that when we kissed, I could put my hands on your shoulders and suspend myself at your height. I could kneel on your hips and you would barely feel it, we'd be so light.

The music is never awkward, and I never try to lead. There are always Taxi's with Indian pop music waiting when we're tired. You have starlite mints in your pocket, and your sheets are always clean.

Love was blind, and I was too blind to see

I feel a great need to apologize and ask for forgiveness for some of the more hot-headed actions of my past.

There's a voice in my head that says it's not fair to apologize and ask for forgiveness after you're not mad anymore. That somehow, throwing wild fits, waiting for time to heal all your wounds and then expecting to be forgiven is having your cake and eating it too.

Then there's the other, more troubling voice. This voice is the one that whispers "Wait a minute...did I already apologize? Did the offended/offender even know what kind of horrible things I did and said? Is apologizing going to open old wounds?". Really. I can't, in some cases, remember if I've made an official apology. I think these things are important, though, because i believe that your grudges go with you beyond the grave, and I'd like to have as little as possible to worry about after I'm dead.

Oh I don't know why

Hello you pretty ones.

I should warn you now that the only thing I can talk about is teeth. Teeth teeth and more teeth.

The first two days were spent passed out and sweating from painkillers. I have fuzzy memories of opening my eyes and seeing Cake. Most of our conversations went thusly:

"Hey there pretty girl! Nice to see those eyes open! Lets hurry and feed you something so you can take your pills before you fall asleep again, okay? Can you drink some water?"

(cries for a second. Looks around, baffled by surroundings) I WANT A HU-HU-U-U-UG!"

"Okay! You can have a hug! Don't cry, sweetheart."

By Thursday midnight, it was "Hey! Look who can focus her eyes!"

My mom came and took me out on Friday for a few hours. I was famished, so if it could be ingested by mashing it around with my incisors and tongue, it got eaten. 2 pints of cookie dough ice cream? 4 CUPS of oatmeal? 1/2 gallon of yogurt? You fucking bet.

I'm still tender, and my ears and sinuses are killing me, but I feel that I've donned my subcutaneous insulation and slept like a grizzly bear, so I must be ready for fall.

na nanoo

I don't remember a bit of it. Dr Sexy came in and put his mask on, and then I was sitting in a wheelchair in the hall with a headwrap like marley always had when he paid the first visitation to scrooge. I think I got sad in the taxi for no reason, because I remember Cake telling the driver, "She hasn't had the greatest day so far."

But now, there are little bits of black string holding my mouth together, and the medicine usually makes me sleep for hours at a time. When I sleep, I have terrible dreams about string.

Beauty Kant have a Kantcept

This is the only day I'm going to work this week, as the wisdom teeth come out first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll post from home, maybe I won't. Wish me anti-infected wishes. Wish Cake patience with my teary-eyed and dirty-mouthed demands for a short play about corndogs with epilepsy.

Spin the Bottle was Friday night, and I think my hostessing abilities were sufficient. I told a story that didn't make any sense to cover some time, I forgot about my duties for a second, shouted 'Oh Yeah! I'm hosting!' to a dark theater, the lights came back up, and we were on. Not perfect, but charming. I think I covered lightly charming.

Cake also decided that he was coming this month whether I liked it or not. (I secretly liked it very much.) I think he found it entertaining enough to be worth his time, and that's all I really wanted.
(I thought we had a great show.)

On Saturday, I went to a wedding on the north end with my parents. (My father wore a blue suit, my mother wore a purple suit, and I wore a pink dress. We looked awesome.) I had a fine time at the wedding, and was one of the few who danced at the reception. The highlight of the deal was seeing my cousin James, who came into the city after the wedding. We went to see The Unicorns at Neumos.* The Unicorns rocked it like the whole world had a crush on them. A little talky, but so invested it was worth it. Make sure you catch them.

The Unicorns were AA, so it was only 10 when the show let out. James wasn't musically satiated, so we went down to the former Sit and Spin, current Hideaway to see the Husbands and Dead Moon. The Husbands rocked it with tassled outfits, an enthusiastic misc percussion guy, and motown covers mixed in with Muffs-esqe punk. They're one of Roxy's favorite bands, so I was ready for them to rock. They did. Dead Moon was very high energy punk with an audience of diehard fans. I loved their shit, (FIFTY FOUR FORTY OR FIGHT!) but I could only take about a half hour of it before the intensity made it feel repetitive.

Sunday was full of houseware shopping and home maintenance. We now have oil paintings of Diana Ross and The Supremes in the livingroom. Souxie made a killer housewarming gift and we went to Camp Vassar for dinner. Drank wine. Got punchy. Laughed really hard while relaying the story of the hostage tragedy in Russia because I couldn't not tell it, but I felt really bad for feeling like I had to tell it to anyone who showed up.

(on the phone)
Cake: "What're you doing?"

"I'm carrying wine up the hill, you crazy motherfucker! What're YOU doing?"

"Whoa, somebody's punchy. I'll call you back later."

"OH NO YOU WONT! I already picked up the phone, samuel clemens. We're gonna TALK."

See you guys when the swelling goes down.

*Dear Neumos, after 3 totally horrifying and/or wildly annoying show experiences, I finally had a decent time at your establishment. I tentatively withdraw my firey verbal curse. Lets work together to balance out the sucking-to-rocking ratio.

However you pray

200 people. Most of them Children.

Light the Lights

I'll be (nervously) hosting this month's Spin The Bottle tonight. The show should be great, but I might be a minor disaster*. Please come!

*but I also might rock. You never know.

Hey, don't write yourself off yet

Phone rings, internal number.

"Front Desk, this is Sonya."

"Hey Sonya, this is Fresh Out Of College Sub-scientist. I need to get in touch with one of the IT guys."

"IT is at extension 9000, do you want me to put you through?"

"Nobody answered."

"If it's an emergency, you can dial 9000, then press # and the tech-on-call will be paged to your number. Is it an emergency?"

"No."

"Do you want me to transfer you to 9000?"

"And, like, what? Leave a message?"

"Ummm, yeah. That's what I'd suggest."

(exasperated exhalation) "Fine."

Transfer, and release.

What the fuck are you calling me for? Do you think I have some magical power that makes the Techs answer the phone? Do you think a special red phone rings in their office when it comes from my desk? Sheesh.

don't want nothing at all

I just saw 2 girls get arrested at gunpoint!

I was walking back to work from lunch. Just as I rounded the corner, I heard the little Whoop Whoop sound that cops make when they want you to pull over but they don't want to turn their sirens all the way on. A brown car hesitantly pulled up a few feet away from me. Then BAM! There was another cop car that materialized as if from thin air, both cops were out of their cars with their guns drawn and pointed at the driver and passenger. I was only 15 or 20 feet from the tip of the officers Death Distribution Device, so I backed the fuck around the corner. The cops screamed at the girls to put their hands up, then out the window. 6 more cop cars showed up and swarmed the entire intersection. The girls got out and kneeled on the ground. The cops handcuffed them and moved them to the sidewalk. I heard one of the cops say, "So where'd you get the car?" They put their guns away, the second cop on the scene reparked his car and the rest of the cops scattered, and people started moving again. \

She's already smoothing her hands for the pictures

Expected High tomorrow, 64 degrees.

So...I'm finding that the 3/4 of my wardrobe that I obliterated in The Great Move/Flood of Ought Four was the part of my wardrobe that kept me, you know, warm.

I tried to explain this to Cake last night, and he was nowhere near sympathetic enough to my shallowness.

I *hate* my seasonal-appropriate clothing selection. Almost all of it.

This is a major issue for several reasons. The first of which being that it increases the amount of time it takes me to leave the house by nearly 20 minutes. Which means I have to wake up 20 minutes earlier than necessary to look at what I picked out for myself last night, decide that I hate it and try to figure out what I'm going to hate less, only to put on the thing I picked out in the first place as a last resort.
And then, oh shit but I'm cranky. And dressed in something I hate.

The second problem is a bit more delicate. Motivation. Most of the time, I enjoy my wardrobe so much that I delight in activities that allow me to change my clothes. Not being able to find something to wear makes me not want to leave the house at all.
The truth of the matter is that I see my clothing as a special Confidence Costume I put on. The special costume allows me to forgive myself for accidently saying something dumb to someone I don't know very well. The costume allows me to respond confidently to situations I don't feel confident about at all. The costume tucks the socially awkward, panic-stricken, never-ever-says-the-right-thing me into the back and brings out the amicable, gregarious, slightly-more-capable-of-saying-something-appropriate me to the front.
Most of the time, I can be the better version of me with or without the C.C., but just like asthma, you never know when it's going to strike. The random space talk will come out of my mouth and I'll feel like a hundred burning spotlights of judgement have been turned on me. When those spotlights come, I'd rather be looking stinking cute.

I know you're gonna run, and I can't blame you

I've been dealing with a lot of social guilt lately, because I've been almost totally unable to convince myself to do anything that doesn't sound like a good time. So far I've skipped my uncle's wedding (which probably would have been fun, but I felt like crap and it didn't sound like fun until after it was over), a company meeting, a fundraiser, rollerskating(who fucking skips ROLLER SKATING?!), several live shows and a lot of drinking. I've passed over most of these things in favor of sitting at home on the porch eating yogurt and reading books, or watching the republican national convention like it's a car wreck with frizzy hair, or looking at photographs while sitting on the kitchen floor. All of these activities have been immensely satisfying for me, but they make for crappy conversation fodder.
Unless you want to talk about yogurt, car wrecks, what got spilled on the floor, or the republican national convention. BO-RING.