Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Next week in the promised land

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Happy, belated, passover.
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I know that if things look bleak, if I suffer from persecution, if I'm forced to leave this land, being chased by angry bigots with bats and empty beer bottles...
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There's always next week in the promised land.

That's not a real word

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These are my new shoes. While they are not plaid slip-ons, I still like them.
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Oh shizzle.
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Izzle.
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This is a creepy painting of a woman being watched through a key hole.
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Played Scrabble with Megan and Steve, did I mention that I hate Scrabble.
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This is a playing card picturing two wrestlers garbing each others junk.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Non-linear Geodesics

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Here I am looking cool in the big city.
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In my dream; Roseburg has an array of charming breakfast places that all serve something different that I like, and on weekends we have to decide which one to go to and when we get there; there is a line and we have to wait, but it's ok because they give us good coffee and Bloody Marys.
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This is an add for an all lesbian realty company. Maybe they are investment bankers. Maybe that's not the point.
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The man walking on the sidewalk had these very strange bouncy stilt shoes. I was unclear as to their purpose and/or possible benefit. (I will note that I found them by searching "bouncy stilt shoes").
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This was a book on how to shoot your own porn. It may have been called DIY Pornography.
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Do I need to comment?
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I was driving and saw the cupcake sign and had to stop.
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Here is my assortment of delicious (and expensive) cupcakes.
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Here are the beginnings of a geodesic dome in Mary's back yard. Who knew that the "artistery" was so into Buckminster Fuller?
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Here is Mary looking less terrified by my presence.
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While I don't remember what it was; there was something very strange about this funeral home/mortuary/whatever place. I think it had something to do with dead hippies.
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I got strawberry chipotle ice cream. The guy told me that as summer progresses; he will continue to make the ice cream spicier and spicier. I whole heartedly approve.
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Before I left; Mary and I went up to the bluffs and looked out over the train yards. Oh, how I miss urbanity.
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Farewell city life. Possibly better put: farewell traffic, breakfast restaurants, slow service, gentrification, ethnicity, culture, a selection of bars where there is very little risk of the patrons wanting to hurt you, young people, fashion, public transportation,...
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The list goes on.
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I got a hot dog at a Chinese restaurant/hot dog place.
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Driving back from Portland I had the revelation that Roseburg holds little prospect of love for a smart and charming boy with good fashion sense.
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And, one day, when I leave this land of Mar-Far chicken and things that are "spendy", will I be too old to find love?

Friday, April 25, 2008

Does that make me a country boy?

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Here I am, prepared for the big city.
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This was my first time out of the sticks in a dogs age.
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While we do have homeless people in Roseburg; it takes an urban hobo to just throw his used sign on the ground.
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Mary is, apparently, happy (or terrified) to see me.
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This Thai restaurant was inside an old house and had festive tableware. It was quite adorable.
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However, they only had one person working the floor, so our meal took forever.
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Maybe my life in the country (or shall we call it the land of meals that are delivered too quickly) has made me impatient. Which is strange; shouldn't I be annoyed at these fast paced city-slickers?
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I had come up to see my good friend Lyn Goeringer. She was in town from Rhode Island doing a performance as part of a evening of women in experimental electronic music.
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When I had gotten to town (city) Marie wasn't sure if she wanted to come out to the show because she thought that I was going to drag her to see some singer/song writer with a guitar.
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I don't even think I know any singer/song writers...
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Here is Lyn; rocking out with her instrument (the ExOSkeL).

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We hung out with Lyn as we listened to the electro-___ stylings of the Electrogals.
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We tried to convince Lyn to come out dancing, but she had to catch a flight at 3am.
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I don't really feel smart enough, anymore, to write a compelling critique of the performances of the evening. And I also feel that as a representative of Whitey and The Man; I am in no position to critique lesbian fashion.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Think of it like the sorbet

I feel like we need a moment before I can proceed with the "story line" as it was proceeding prior to this week.

I wish I had some music to review.

Or maybe a humorous anecdote.

I wish there was a way we could just fade to black for a moment an then pick up where we left off.

Instead here is a picture of a cowboy.


Heart,
Gabe

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Elephants in the room

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This morning at breakfast I renounced Roseburg. The previous evening some angry man threatened to tear our heads off and shit down our neck holes. This morning there was snow on the ground, I mean WTF it's supposed to be spring. I fear that I live in a town where I will not find love and when I do leave, someday, I will be too old to find it.
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Why does Roseburg hate me so?
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I went out to the college to work on my lesson plan. There was snow on the ground and a class in the room I needed.
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I called Megan to tell her that God hated me and that I needed something to do. She asked what I wanted to do. I said cry.
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We left the dark clouds of Roseburg and headed to the coast.
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I told her every gruesome detail.
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It was a cathartic afternoon.
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The sad seems mostly gone now.
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For dinner at the Captains' Catch we got sides of coleslaw. They brought them to us as an appetizer.
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We had "fish" and chowder. I thought about asking what kind of "fish", but then I forgot.
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When our waitress came to clear our table; she told me that I needed to eat a few more "fish" before I could leave.

Gabriel Burian-Mohr