As I’m staring down a stack of papers representing my taxes and contemplating meaning in a world gone insane, I’m clearly procrastinating. Because instead of finishing either of those two necessary tasks, however noble or banal each is, I’ve cleaned every surface in my house and also decided “yes, I should catch up on my journaling from 2016.” Because priorities.
So 2016 is all scrapped up and ready to go sit on the shelf with his buddies: eight other Farmer’s Alamanc planners and three rando planners I used before the OFA became my clear go-to. They represent over 10 years of hoarding papers.
Or at least, 10 years of putting my paper hoarding to some sort of creative use.
I can’t let go of paper. Ticket stubs, business cards, wedding invitations, even those little tags on tea bag strings. For years they sat in envelopes waiting for…well I didn’t know what. But finally after years of stacks of papers sitting around, I finally found a way to scrapbook/journal with all of that crap. As a result, I can get rid of most of the papers but keep the key elements that remind me of something that happened on a particular day: cards and notes, wristbands, ribbons, parking passes. They all go on their appropriate date page. And then I can throw the rest out. It’s still really weird, but at least now I have a hold of it.
And as a bonus, I have a solid book of alibis* going back years. So that’s nice.
A break from my crusading for environmental and human egalitarianism. I shall now rock out on my day off.
This band is stuck in my head so hard right now. I saw them a couple years ago when they opened for Slash at Stubbs. I hadn’t heard of them, and then I couldn’t forget them. As much as I loooooove LOOOOVE Slash, I think I actually might have enjoyed their performance more. Not that seeing Slash wasn’t great, and not that he didn’t still “have it”. They just.. blew my face off.
They’re basically a bunch of frontmen-type stars who each play their own gig, but then together. So instead of having an epic frontman with a huge feather coat and tight Freddie Mercury pants (which he has, plus FM’s chops) supported by mellow, competent musicians, they have that AND an insane keyboardist, flamboyant trumpet player, and everyone in between. The guitarist soloed and the lead singer jumped onto his shoulders, mid-solo; the trumpet player threw his trumpet high enough to get caught in the lights (it didn’t) and coordinated super-fast high kicks and dips; the keyboardist picked up his full-sized, wired keyboard and played it like a key-tar, then threw it into the crowd and surfed to it, seated himself on the crowd’s hands, and proceeded to play while he and his keyboard surfed around. Go read about the keyboardist. Evidently this kind of stage antics is totally normal for all of them.
And they produced this gem, which I loved from that moment and now (again) have stuck in my head. Look, I can’t stand the often moronic over-sexualization of the female butt. But damned if I don’t love this song IN THE FACE. And if asses aren’t your thing, the second video might be more your speed. I like that song, too.
I’m pretty psyched with what my buddy Mara did with my manky broken bleached bits from last year’s charity pinking. Since it was all gross and needing to be hacked off, I figured we’d just go all out, use up the dregs of the colors i had left over, and go for rainbow. So far, way too fun!! Thanks, mara!!
No, not the kind of spare tire I got from years of /played time on WoW. I mean the kind you put on your car. The kind of spare tire you put on your car next to your Flying Spaghetti Monster decal. In Austin.
OMJeez, I love Austin. Also, I’m totally doing this on my VW. And yes, I just made “yarnouflage” up, but I’m sticking to it.