So maybe...

... this blog is sometimes all about karaoke. Not to imply that I'm embarrassed or have anything to answer for, but... it's just that karaoke is sometimes the perfect distillation of everything good about Irvine. (Everything bad about Irvine, by the way, is having to go to court early in the morning to try to get a judge not to charge you $200 for rolling through a stop sign.)



But on the subject of things that are good, if you're in the OC you must come to Faultline's launch tomorrow! There will be a cheese waterfall on a marble slab and--I have it on good authority, but shh, it's a surprise--wine.

Is it Wrong to Love Karaoke?

No.

Also, it's not wrong to go to the prom in a dress affectionately named "George of the Jungle."

Nor is it wrong to drive really fast, if you are in California. In Iowa it is wrong, apparently.

Salt Lake City

We are getting a late start today, here under the toothy Wasatch mountains. We still have to see the Temple, and we also failed in our quest to find a speakeasy--but they must exist, right? Places where they secretly serve full-proof beer and the Tabernacle Choir cuts loose in the back?

Ogalalla, Nebraska

Apparently Best Westerns now have wireless, as do all the rest stops in Iowa. I guess I like the 21st century. I like Ogalalla Nebraska. It has crazy lightning and a western smell.

On the Road Again!

Sisterkins and I are napping up a storm in preparation for our big road trip. Tomorrow: Julesburg, Nebraska! Then Salt Lake, Reno, Tahoe, San Francisco, down the coast, and home. We're preparaing to load up with snacks and music and drive drive drive. As I type, Sisterkins is on the phone being an HPI (high-powered individual), arranging for the Boss's big world tour.

It's a weird world...

.... where you can find your nose doctor on myspace.

Bird Report

She is gone, and I miss her! She's been gone since last night when I got home from having a Pabst bucket at the lovely new on-campus food-court-turned-pub. Come back, Bird, please. We need you!

Tonight I'm giving a reading. It's been months since I've shown anyone a poem, so it's a little nerve-wracking to think of reading for a whole room of bored undergrads, but good to get back on the horse.

A public service announcement: Today is May 11. It is not May 12. Sisterkins's birthday is tomorrow, not today. Just in case anyone else was also confused.

Bird, Lovebird...

...has really moved in, I think. She was there, with her neck sunk into her shoulder-feathers and her beady eyes tracking back and forth, when I got home tonight from a beautiful Sex-and-the-City binge at HenHen's. Before that we all went to the bank. It was a lovely evening.

I Think I'll Call Her "Bird, Lovebird"*

The front door to my apartment is in a little covered alcove, and on a fire-extinguisher case in the alcove a bird has decided to make her nest. The nest is made of sticks and is less woven than just piled up (I think the bird and I use the same interior decorator). It's at eye level, and we have to pass about six inches from it on our way in and out, but the bird just sits there, giving us her beady stare. She also has a mate who brings her sticks and sometimes sits on her. Not in THAT way, but still, we are hoping there will be eggs and then babies. We also hope they will want to attend, or at least not call the police on, our parties. Thank you, bird! Thank you, Irvine!

*"bird, lovebird" is a line from a Faultline poem

UW Students:

Please don't all be married or 12 years old. Please be my new friends.

My nose...

... got acquainted with a concrete pillar yesterday at an unadvisable velocity. It is now cut and swollen and obviously not quite right (but I'm pretty sure not broken). If anyone else thought they were the klutziest, well, sorry.