All I want are simple things

Effing Dykes needs to update.

Like now.

Luckily, I think that will happen today, probably because Krista, the blog's writer, knew I was going to bitch about it in this blog.

Okay maybe not.  Anyway, something else I want is to see if the either of the hippie deodorant/antiperspirants I bought today work.  Arrid XX, or whatever horrendously spelled deodorant I've been using for the past, oh, ever, isn't really cutting it anymore and as a Vermonter moving to San Francisco, I feel it is my duty to start wearing deo that is vegan.  In case I need to eat it.

There's no aluminum in either of these, which is what causes cancer and demonic possession and probably some other stuff.  We'll see how it goes.  I know you all want to hear about my sweat so I'll post reviews.

In other news, I decided to give away almost all of the stuff I want to get rid of instead of trying to sell it.  I know we're in a capitalist society or whatever, but it's like saying, oh, I bought this soda and I drank half of it, so I'll sell you the rest for half price.  I've used this stuff, hopefully gotten my money's worth, and I might as well give it all to Goodwill so they can use the money for good, instead of for beer, which is what I'd have used it for.

The exceptions are my bass, which I sold today (I'm throwing in a practice amp and my Oxygen 8 MIDI keyboard) for $100 and a batch of cookies.  I'm bringing it all to a guy in Manchester this Saturday on my way down to Tanglewood.  It's a ridiculously low price for what he's getting (I'm including the gig bag, a cord, and a stand too), but I don't want to be greedy.  I want to get my unnecessary stuff to people who will enjoy it.  I'm also trying to sell a "recording pak" that I bought mostly for the microphone, but I'm selling it at 1/3 of its value and I might just end up giving it away too.

I don't need stuff.  I need...love.  Free stuff = love!

Why didn't anyone tell me???

Pedicures are AWESOME.  Here is mine:

Yes I already ruined it, but what do you expect, it's me.  Anyway, my boo Tess had told me about the slutty Asian pedicurist she went to in Brookline, but I don't like slutty Asians.

Editor's note: This Asian isn't that slutty, but Googling "slutty Asians" is horrifying.

So I was like eeeeeh okay when my mom suggested we get pedicures, and then, as I said before, it was AWESOME.

We went to some salon school in Williston and my pedicurist-in-training was this cute girl named Anna with one of those Cindy Crawford beauty mark piercings.  Anna was also wearing a low cut shirt.  That meant, when she was giving me what basically amounted to a half-hour foot massage, I had both a nice view and a nice foot-time.  Mmmm.  I wanted my nails purple at the beginning, and then realized I was mean for not including green, and then Anna suggested I alternate toes.  Yay!  Of course, as you can see, I f-ed it up before I even walked out the door, but such is life.

In conclusion, get a pedicure.  Even if, like me, you spend the majority of your time barefoot, go treat your feet to a bath-rubdown-exfoliation-moisturizing party.  Is nice.  I like.

I NEED IT I NEED IT

I'm moving to San Francisco in September.  I will be getting out there by driving my 1997 Subaru Legacy wagon, which was purchased after this conversation:

My mom's boss: Well, I'm taking my old car to the dump today.
My mom: Oh, I'll buy it from you for a thousand dollars so my husband and I can spend several thousand dollars a pop fixing it up five times a year for the next few years!

Okay maybe that's not exactly what happened, but it would have been incredibly psychic of my mom if it had been.

One time we tried to drive this car from South Burlington to Boston with a completely full trunk/backseat and a full-size mattress and boxspring on top.  The clutch pretty much committed suicide about 12 minutes into the trip, which made for a really fun 6:12 AM experience.

Since I have to drive this car to San Francisco, I am not optimistic about its ability to take a million things.  So I have made a list.  Here is the current list, copied and pasted from the Word document:

Things I will take to SF, arranged by room.

Bathroom:

Nothing.  I’ll buy it when I get there.

Kitchen:

Knives

Knife roll

Rolling pin

Cast iron pans—too heavy to ship, so I’ll ditch it if the car breaks down

Big frying pan—samesies

Tongs!

Faery egg whisk

Everything else…yard sale.

Living room:

Will we have one?  I don’t know.

One hefty box of books including:

T

B

D

Nothing else?  I don’t think so…

Bedroom:

Computer/charger

iPod/charger

iHome

Pillow

Sheets

Outdoorsy stuff:

Bike

Helmet

Lock

Pump

Lights

Bike tool

Sleeping bag

Inflatable thing

Exercise ball

Racquetball stuff

Swimming stuff

Climbing stuff

Water bottles

This list makes me seem like I'm super outdoorsy, and also like I'm not actually a musician.  I need to update it to include the five trumpets, guitar, and keyboard that I own.  And all my music.  And mutes.

Also, am I a nudist or what?  Am I really bringing zero clothes?

Well, if things go the way I'm hoping they will in this Mecca of lesbians, I won't need any.  Alllllright.

But the point remains: what do I really need?  What books are going to go in that box, out of the eight zillion that I consider mine in this house?  How about all the little mementos I've kept? Postcards, rocks, real-paper-photos-from-when-Facebook-didn't-exist?  I'm going to be in this city, 3000 miles away from the house I grew up in, for at least two years.  I'm going to be a real person.  What things does a real person need?

Volunteering woes

Sad title, isn't it?

For the past two days, I've been volunteering at a bike shop which repairs and sells bikes at a huge discount to low-income or otherwise in-need residents of Burlington.  Yesterday I cleaned up some wheels, replaced a brake cable, calibrated brakes, changed a flat, and interacted with customers.

Today I moved boxes of parts around and then superglued washers and screws and things to the outsides of their respective little drawers in a cabinet.

For four and a half hours.

 

Really?

I'm only home for two weeks and I wanted to learn about how bikes work so when I spend my days commuting by bike in San Francisco and something explodes, I can fix it.  It's not like I volunteered at the screw-gluing shop.

I feel bad complaining because someone has to do it.  It would suck to be one of the two guys whose full-time job this is and have to put tiny metal objects in boxes with ones that look similar.  On the other hand, one of those guys didn't explain the job to me at all and I ended up supergluing a bunch of unnecessary things, a situation which I have to undo tomorrow, somehow.  I'm already bored.  I want to use a spoke wrench, dammit!

The Agenda

This is my third blog.

Perhaps this will be the one that works.

Things to be discussed include:

1) things I think are funny (most things)
2) the vagaries of being a musician
3) FOOD
4) All the TV shows that I loooove
5) The fact that I am moving to San Francisco in a few months
6) the gays

Right now I am home with my parents in Vermont, hangin' out because my mom will miss me a lot when I work in western Massachusetts for the rest of the summer and then peace out to San Francisco in the fall. Therefore I have to stay here. It's 11:21 and I'm on my bed in my bathrobe. I have so far a) showered and b) eaten breakfast. Productive?