Thursday, July 16, 2015
Last Daze
It's my last day of work for the historical society I work for. I'm pretty bummed out. I've written 3 blog entries and deleted all of them because they're scattered and negative. No blog entry today I guess.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Deets and foods.
At this time next week I will be on a plane on my way to New York. Hopefully I will be asleep on that flight, but you never know with me. I still have a lot to do.
I have to do laundry, organize my jewelry, and start packing clothes I want to take to New York. Between saying goodbye and working up until the last possible minute this is going to be tough. Most importantly I need to make sure I get to the bank and get everything to transfer over to my new account. So many boring necessities to think of, so much stuff I hate doing!
This weekend I'm also taking a road trip with my dear friend Micaela to the Portland Zine Symposium in Oregon. I'm fairly certain this is a fancy name for a zine fest but I know how Portland likes to be fancy and I'm not going to hate them for it. I can't think of a better way to leave California and my bestie than taking a 4 day road trip to promote The Blunt Letters. When I get to New York I want to find places that stock zines and see if we can put some stuff there on consignment. In The Bay you just have to walk in and ask them to do it. Well, unless you're the uppity Rock Paper Scissors collective where you have to have at least 75 cool points and given at least 3 blow jobs to CCA faculty. They're the worst! They're a bunch of posturing dicks. Any time we see these moody hipsters in person they tell us to bring stuff by, but when we do they never get back to us. I wish there was an emoji to show me doing the jacking off hand gesture. Yeah maybe that's rude, but so are they.
Thankfully, there's not much to do for the Blunt Letters to go on the road. We're like a well oiled machine. We have our tabling kits ready to go, an inventory box, and a bunch of fresh zines we printed last week and a car reservation confirmed. The only thing I have to do is change some square stuff but that's it. I'm looking forward to staying with Camden and apparently there's 5 bars in any direction from her house. One thing that Oregon does better than California is no sales tax and super cheap drinks. Like drunk for $20 cheap drinks! They're also great at catering to hippies and nerds; we're having vegan gluten-free lunches delivered to our table! OK, two things Oregon is good at.
Road trip food is also not the best but I do love trying pancakes in new places and These United States have some truly fantastic pancake places. As president of the Pancake Fanclub, I believe it is my duty to try all the pancakes I can whenever I'm on vacation. In fact, I tried some satisfactory pancakes in Long Beach this past June that I have neglected to write about. This is mostly due to the fact that they were fine but not great. However, I was racked with anxiety when I was eating at The Breakfast Bar (home of "alright" pancakes) due to my ATM card being stolen. Although, if they were truly spectacular pancakes I think I would have pulled out of my bad mood faster. Luckily The Breakfast Bar lived up to its name, they had excellent Bloody Mary's with lots of pickles!
On this trip I can't abide by my "If I'm not puking, I'm fine" vacation motto. Not because I want to puke more, but because I should refrain from activities that would cause gastro distress. I know we're called "The Blunt Letters" but I don't want to write another apology song to the state of Oregon. I really wish more places had veggie hot dogs because hot dogs are one of my favorite foods. I know Portland has lots of hippie foods for me to eat but the rest of Oregon is all about the flesh of animals. Fun fact! I learned yesterday that some Rastas don't eat meat because to eat meat is to touch death. They got their problems like everyone else, but I like that philosophy in particular.
Well this has devolved into things I like and foods I want to eat so I think it's time to wrap it up! Laterz.
I have to do laundry, organize my jewelry, and start packing clothes I want to take to New York. Between saying goodbye and working up until the last possible minute this is going to be tough. Most importantly I need to make sure I get to the bank and get everything to transfer over to my new account. So many boring necessities to think of, so much stuff I hate doing!
This weekend I'm also taking a road trip with my dear friend Micaela to the Portland Zine Symposium in Oregon. I'm fairly certain this is a fancy name for a zine fest but I know how Portland likes to be fancy and I'm not going to hate them for it. I can't think of a better way to leave California and my bestie than taking a 4 day road trip to promote The Blunt Letters. When I get to New York I want to find places that stock zines and see if we can put some stuff there on consignment. In The Bay you just have to walk in and ask them to do it. Well, unless you're the uppity Rock Paper Scissors collective where you have to have at least 75 cool points and given at least 3 blow jobs to CCA faculty. They're the worst! They're a bunch of posturing dicks. Any time we see these moody hipsters in person they tell us to bring stuff by, but when we do they never get back to us. I wish there was an emoji to show me doing the jacking off hand gesture. Yeah maybe that's rude, but so are they.
Thankfully, there's not much to do for the Blunt Letters to go on the road. We're like a well oiled machine. We have our tabling kits ready to go, an inventory box, and a bunch of fresh zines we printed last week and a car reservation confirmed. The only thing I have to do is change some square stuff but that's it. I'm looking forward to staying with Camden and apparently there's 5 bars in any direction from her house. One thing that Oregon does better than California is no sales tax and super cheap drinks. Like drunk for $20 cheap drinks! They're also great at catering to hippies and nerds; we're having vegan gluten-free lunches delivered to our table! OK, two things Oregon is good at.
Road trip food is also not the best but I do love trying pancakes in new places and These United States have some truly fantastic pancake places. As president of the Pancake Fanclub, I believe it is my duty to try all the pancakes I can whenever I'm on vacation. In fact, I tried some satisfactory pancakes in Long Beach this past June that I have neglected to write about. This is mostly due to the fact that they were fine but not great. However, I was racked with anxiety when I was eating at The Breakfast Bar (home of "alright" pancakes) due to my ATM card being stolen. Although, if they were truly spectacular pancakes I think I would have pulled out of my bad mood faster. Luckily The Breakfast Bar lived up to its name, they had excellent Bloody Mary's with lots of pickles!
On this trip I can't abide by my "If I'm not puking, I'm fine" vacation motto. Not because I want to puke more, but because I should refrain from activities that would cause gastro distress. I know we're called "The Blunt Letters" but I don't want to write another apology song to the state of Oregon. I really wish more places had veggie hot dogs because hot dogs are one of my favorite foods. I know Portland has lots of hippie foods for me to eat but the rest of Oregon is all about the flesh of animals. Fun fact! I learned yesterday that some Rastas don't eat meat because to eat meat is to touch death. They got their problems like everyone else, but I like that philosophy in particular.
Well this has devolved into things I like and foods I want to eat so I think it's time to wrap it up! Laterz.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Boxes, boxes, boxes!
8 days from today I'll be getting on to a big beautiful iron bird and flying non-stop (thank you Jesus!) to New York City to start the next chapter of the Elle Lectrick experience. Which I'm realizing now would have been a way better blog title, oh well. In the meantime I'm taking down the boxes one card board sentinel at a time, to shuffle and sort through all the earthly belongings of this West Coast life I've been piecing together. I think the fact that things like my beloved Hello Kitty toaster (burns her face right into the bread!) have been in storage for 6 months is reason enough to try to find a place that isn't The Bay that might have some counter space on which to put that fanciful kitty toaster. That may seem like a small, insignificant reason to ditch the Golden State, home of my entire friend and family base, but alas you have never had toast with a Japanese cat face on it.
Just kidding!
The facts are I've always wanted to live in New York. In high school I tried to get into Sarah Lawrence college, an endeavor that ended in a teary screaming match with my parents who absolutely refused to pay to have their daughter live 3,000 miles away from them. My reaction was fairly dramatic, but I was goth in high school so literally everything was dramatic. I opted instead to attend Mills College a mere 30 miles from my hometown. While I was in college I found my way onto a roller derby league and began traveling the country with about 45 other women. There's nothing quite like going to a women's college and being on a roller derby league at the same time, the closest comparison is belonging to a secret organization and being a celebrity with a massive entourage. I was told I could do anything and saw women everyday who said "I'm gonna do this" and just did it. And we're talking about The Bay Area in the mid-2000 the things that these women were going out and doing were so exciting; I saw the insides of art studios from people who made stuff for Burning Man, ate for free with food truck entrepreneurs, visited sex workers living rooms, carried red wine from a book launch reading to the back stage of a music venue, roller skated in historic landmarks, and jumped rooftops into a party with both a bonfire and a burlesque show.
After college, and a stint at a coffee shop where I met my bestie, I found myself working in 2 Bay Area museums and writing a the best zine in the universe The Blunt Letters. The second half of my twenties I had settled down considerably. Finally, I had work that I cared about, that allowed me to be my super nerdy self and talk to people who were interested in California. At that time I was still totally in love with California, the history, the weather, but slowly things were changing. The rents in my once beloved Oakland were sky rocketing as the tech industry boomed.From recession to housing crisis the working class artists were just getting slammed and Oakland was "totes into it". Every week there was a new macaroni and cheese restaurant, artisan meat eatery, over priced bar, and small business closure. What's worse is, my friends the artists and writers were moving out and away from the bay. I stayed and watched as venue after venue closed. There were no more house shows or even house parties because no one could afford a house. Eventually my own housing situation fell apart and I was back at my parent's house.
So cool, I have the best friend in the world, a sweet job, and the best zine in the universe. However, I live with my parents, I work 6 days a week, I can't afford an apartment, and I'm severely disillusioned. Enter the opportunity of a life time: a job in New York City, and a place to live for free until I get on my feet. It's time to dust off an old dream. After 2 anxiety attacks and many deep breaths, I'm here in my cardboard fort surrounded with the material pieces of my life thus far. Maybe having room for a toaster on my kitchen counter isn't the best reason to fly across the country to another incredibly expensive metropolis, but becoming a well-rounded interesting non-townie is a good reason.
Just kidding!
The facts are I've always wanted to live in New York. In high school I tried to get into Sarah Lawrence college, an endeavor that ended in a teary screaming match with my parents who absolutely refused to pay to have their daughter live 3,000 miles away from them. My reaction was fairly dramatic, but I was goth in high school so literally everything was dramatic. I opted instead to attend Mills College a mere 30 miles from my hometown. While I was in college I found my way onto a roller derby league and began traveling the country with about 45 other women. There's nothing quite like going to a women's college and being on a roller derby league at the same time, the closest comparison is belonging to a secret organization and being a celebrity with a massive entourage. I was told I could do anything and saw women everyday who said "I'm gonna do this" and just did it. And we're talking about The Bay Area in the mid-2000 the things that these women were going out and doing were so exciting; I saw the insides of art studios from people who made stuff for Burning Man, ate for free with food truck entrepreneurs, visited sex workers living rooms, carried red wine from a book launch reading to the back stage of a music venue, roller skated in historic landmarks, and jumped rooftops into a party with both a bonfire and a burlesque show.
After college, and a stint at a coffee shop where I met my bestie, I found myself working in 2 Bay Area museums and writing a the best zine in the universe The Blunt Letters. The second half of my twenties I had settled down considerably. Finally, I had work that I cared about, that allowed me to be my super nerdy self and talk to people who were interested in California. At that time I was still totally in love with California, the history, the weather, but slowly things were changing. The rents in my once beloved Oakland were sky rocketing as the tech industry boomed.From recession to housing crisis the working class artists were just getting slammed and Oakland was "totes into it". Every week there was a new macaroni and cheese restaurant, artisan meat eatery, over priced bar, and small business closure. What's worse is, my friends the artists and writers were moving out and away from the bay. I stayed and watched as venue after venue closed. There were no more house shows or even house parties because no one could afford a house. Eventually my own housing situation fell apart and I was back at my parent's house.
So cool, I have the best friend in the world, a sweet job, and the best zine in the universe. However, I live with my parents, I work 6 days a week, I can't afford an apartment, and I'm severely disillusioned. Enter the opportunity of a life time: a job in New York City, and a place to live for free until I get on my feet. It's time to dust off an old dream. After 2 anxiety attacks and many deep breaths, I'm here in my cardboard fort surrounded with the material pieces of my life thus far. Maybe having room for a toaster on my kitchen counter isn't the best reason to fly across the country to another incredibly expensive metropolis, but becoming a well-rounded interesting non-townie is a good reason.
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