Cooper family visit

Before I got all jazzed about getting to go to a blogger conference and in between travel, I had a week at home, another chunk of time I negotiated off when I took my current job. Judy and Jim, my parents in law from Kentucky, visited us! This was cool because they'd never been to California and because it gives me perspective to show off our surroundings with new-goggles on. I've gotten used to the giant tortoise on the block and the shiny sparkly ocean at the end of the street that I've swam in a total of NEVER times since January. It sure looks refreshing, though.

We went to the San Diego botanical gardens where we saw these guys.

I doubt they have Mariachi plant people in Nashville. I only just found them but I'm going to miss them. In La Jolla we poked around the cliffs.

We went to an antiquated La Jolla bookstore where the scent of thousands of musty pages was tranquilizing. I bought a dollar book of Berlin street art. The owner spent a good deal of time sitting on the sidewalk drinking wine with his friends. That guy has something figured out.

We drove east through the hills to Iron Mountain, where it looks like someone above took handfuls of boulders and scattered them over the hills like pebbles. I remembered the rock formation I saw when I hiked Iron Mountain last Spring with Kelly and Robin, where giant's fingers reach out from the earth and up towards the sky.

Camp Mighty, the first night

There is a lot of awesome to cover from Camp Mighty last weekend. Like, a LOT. But first I've had to sleep, work, and travel (ongoing themes). I started writing this from New Bern, NC, a town I didn't know about until now - it's lovely - and am finishing in Memphis; tomorrow I fly to DC. I've also been to LA and Charlotte since I left Palm Springs on Saturday.

A week ago I was in my hotel room at the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. I'd sped in from Oceanside and was trying to finish up some advance work for that week's shows before hitting the Camp Mighty welcome party that night. I wanted to clear my psychic scramble a bit before meeting a room full of strangers and also I was nervous. We'd been divided into groups with our own Facebook pages but I'd kept a low profile because I was so busy and hadn't really gotten to know anyone online.

Friday night felt like the first day of junior high and I was weirdly nervewracked with anticipation. Where will I eat lunch? Should I do my side ponytail high or low? I was also reminded of starting the Trek America job ten years ago. Then, Sara drove me down the coast from San Francisco to LA and as we got closer and closer to my drop off point, the Adventurer Hostel by LAX where happy hour margaritas were served by the grimy pool for a buck apiece, she soothed me like I was a kid going to camp, "You're going to have so much fun and make so many friends..."

So I called Sara from Palm Springs. Do you remember that speech you gave me in 2001? I also called Jocardo. He was in a car full of screaming Dominicans on the way to a club in DC so we mostly yelled at each other over the hubbub. And I did something that I never would have imagined even a few years ago: I worked on a couple of budgets WHICH CALMED ME DOWN. I told Jocardo the effect the budgets had on me and he said, "Well sure, that's something you have control over...". Oh right. Who needs therapy? Well, me but that's a different blog.

When I closed the computer and went to the party, I got my Ecco Domani glass of wine and drifted around the room, not landing anywhere until a woman whipped into my sight and stuck her hand in mine. Elaina! Elaina broke the ice like nobody's biz and was so open and energetic and funny, I immediately started feeling like me again not the little girl wearing big glasses and Forenza shorts. It didn't matter so much where I ate lunch! The tang cocktails were free! The ladies were smart and inspiring and not mean jerks! Camp Mighty was on.

Laughing quietly to myself

About how I was standing in a Memphis radio station this morning while the DJs were on the air and felt something in my sock. I (discreetly?) pulled my boot off and reached into my sock and pulled out a CHUNK OF BACON. I want to say that, "Wow, I'm that person?" But I don't think "people who find bacon in their socks" exists. Until now, my friends. Until now.

ps I had a room service cobb salad last night.

High Line view

Halle took this photo from the High Line and it reminds me of my life list. Not because I love cars, parking, and want to be an alpine mountaineer - I have zip interest in those things - but because of the juxtaposition and intersection of nature and city extremes. My favorite places have some element of extreme to them - New York, Berlin, Iceland, Alaska - and the motivation behind parts of my list is deepening those experiences. I also want to make a quilt out of old clothing so I'm not exactly a full-time adrenaline junkie. Numbers 101 and 102 on my list could be to never, ever have to try to escape from the claws of a grizzly bear or the cold embrace of an icy crevasse. Who knows, though? When I make it to that Alaskan cabin (#14), a curious bear may take it upon himself to sniff it out and I will be forced to hide indoors and sneak photos through the windows. I'm prepared for that.

charity: water

One of the things I'm doing to prepare for Camp Mighty is represent for my team, Team Two (woop!), in fundraising for charity: water. Each group's goal is $200 per person or $5,000 total. There are four groups so we are aiming to raise $20,000 before Camp Mighty even starts. Nifty, huh?

Please read below, watch the video and consider donating here. If you donate, please mention my name in the comment section. If you're in Oceanside, CA this weekend maybe I'll see you on the bike path as I will be channeling my inner 8-year-old and will be selling water and snacks and generally chatting it up on behalf of charity: water.

100% of your donation will directly fund freshwater projects in developing nations and every dollar raised is tracked to a water project.

charity: water focuses on life’s most basic need -- water. Water affects everything: education, health, poverty, and especially women and children.

One billion people live without clean drinking water all over world. Diseases from unsafe water and lack of basic sanitation kill more people every year than all forms of violence, including war.

Women and children usually bear the burden of water collection, walking miles to the nearest source, which is unprotected and likely to make them sick. Clean water nearby means more than safe drinking water; it means time, freedom and incentive to change communities.

When a water project is built in a community, members can often use the new water source to grow small gardens near their homes and secure their own food supply. Self-sufficient households are less affected by external conflict, famine or inadequate government services.

charity: water served its first one million people at the end of 2009. By 2050, the world's population is estimated to grow by three billion and 90% of this growth will be in the developing world. Unless sustainable water solutions are scaled fast, regions already stressed for safe water sources will be over capacity. We’re expanding our reach to meet these demands and will not stop until every person has safe water to drink.

Water Changes Everything. from charity: water on Vimeo.

And thank you...x

Life List

1. Learn to play drums
2. Go to Japan
3. Go to Ireland
4. Write in my journal more
5. Learn bookbinding
6. Design my own website for Ronckytonk
7. Go hiking in Tennessee
8. Do vocals on a song with Matthew
9. Set up a RACECAR tour
10. Have a yard
11. Learn to sail
12. Sail on a several days trip
13. Write about my brother
14. Revisit Alaska
15. Getter better on the skateboard
16. Build an eco-house
17. Have a vegetable garden
18. See U2 in concert
19. Print up more photos from my computer
20. Revisit Berlin
21. Revisit Iceland
22. Stay in an Ice Hotel
23. Slow down enough to pay attention to my mental and physical health
24. Find some physical class and actually do it: yoga, dance etc
25. Hike (part of or whole) Appalachian Trail
26. Snowboard in Colorado
27. Go to Moogfest in Asheville, NC
28. Call or work on a letter to an old friend every week
29. Go on vacation with my closest friends
30. See Patton Oswalt stand up comedy
31. Go to the Canary Islands
32. Volunteer for CISV
33. Be a Natural Ass human generator at a Pedal Power concert
34. Go to Space Camp
35. Learn how to build a fire
36. Go fishing
37. Learn to make soups
38. Listen to storytelling at The Moth NYC
39. Visit 35 US contemporary art museums: Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum (Ridgefield, CT), Artspace (New Haven, CT), Atlanta Contemporary Art Center, Virginia MOCA (Virginia Beach, VA), CAM St. Louis, Cincinnati CAC, CAMH (Houston), Contemporary Museum Baltimore, Chinati Foundation (Marfa, TX), DCCA (Wilmington, DE), Henry Art Gallery (Seattle), Institute of Contemporary Art (Boston),
Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art (Kansas City, MO), MMoCA (Madison, WI), MASS MoCA (North Adams, MA), MCA Chicago, MOCA Cleveland, MCA Denver, MOCAD (Detroit), MOCA GA (Atlanta), MOCA Jacksonville (Florida), MOCA Los Angeles, MOCA North Miami (Florida), MCASD (San Diego, CA), New Museum (New York, NY), CAC New Orleans, MoMA (New York, NY), MoMA PS1 (Long Island City, NY), Rochester Art Center (Rochester, MN), CMCA (Rockport, ME), The Renaissance Society (Chicago), SFMOMA (San Francisco),
SITE Santa Fe (New Mexico), Walker Art Center (Minneapolis), Whitney Museum of American Art (New York, NY)
40. Visit the Getty Museum (Los Angeles)
41. Visit Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art (Bentonville, AR)
42. Become more vocal blog participant and commenter
43. See Alain de Botton speak
44. Take a class at The School of Life in London
45. Stay in a Living Architecture building in the UK
46. Learn to open and close my switchblade properly
47. Refinish the church pew Ed: donated to Goodwill
48. Get a sewing machine and learn to use it
49. Make a quilt out of old clothing or have that lady at the Madison library make it
50.  Open my Yoga for Indie Rockers DVD (still in plastic for 3+ years)
51. Be a mentor for a high school student
52. Play chess without a cheat sheet
53. Go to each distillery on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail: Four Roses, Woodford Reserve, Maker's Mark, Wild Turkey, Jim Beam, Heaven Hill
54. Go to Dollywood
55. Jump in the water on New Year's Day with the Coney Island Polar Bears
56. Go on one of my dad's historical hikes in Cincinnati
57. Go to Russia
58. Cook more
59. Visit Elinor in Sri Lanka
60. Visit Charlie
61. Take a psychology course
62. Take a class at St. John's College in Annapolis, MD
63. Go with Miguel to a coffee farm
64. Become a parent, biological or adoptive
65. Get a new bike
66. Watch all Bear Grylls programs so that I can survive anytime anywhere
67. Learn to use my camera better
68. Take more photos
69. Buy a snazzy photo lens
70. Go to Joshua Tree
71. Subscribe to Rolling Stone and Spin magazine
72. Find a place to volunteer in Nashville
73. Spend a month during winter in Scandinavian country
74. Walk around my city more
75. Read The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan
76. Watch or re-watch American Film Institute's top 100 films:
Citizen Kane (1941), Casablanca (1942), The Godfather (1972), Gone with the Wind (1939), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), The Wizard of Oz (1939), The Graduate (1967), On the Waterfront (1954), Schindler's List (1993), Singin' in the Rain (1952), It's a Wonderful Life (1946), Sunset Boulevard (1950), The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), Some Like it Hot (1959), Star Wars (1977), All About Eve (1950), The African Queen (1951), Psycho (1960), Chinatown (1974), One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975), The Grapes of Wrath (1940), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), The Maltese Falcon (1941), Raging Bull (1980), E.T. (1982), Dr. Strangelove (1964), Bonnie & Clyde (1967), Apocalypse Now (1979), Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939), Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), Annie Hall (1977), The Godfather Part II (1974), High Noon (1952), To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), It Happened One Night (1934), Midnight Cowboy (1969), The Best Years of our Life (1946), Double Indemnity (1944), Doctor Zhivago (1965), North by Northwest (1959), West Side Story (1961), Rear Window (1954), King Kong (1933), The Birth of a Nation (1915), A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), A Clockwork Orange (1971), Taxi Driver (1976), Jaws (1975), Snow White & The Seven Dwarves (1937), Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid (1969), The Philadelphia Story (1940), From Here to Eternity (1953), Amadeus (1984), All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), The Sound of Music (1965), M*A*S*H (1970), The Third Man (1949), Fantasia (1940), Rebel Without a Cause (1955), Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), Vertigo (1958), Tootsie (1982), Stagecoach (1939), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), The Silence of the Lambs (1991), Network (1976), The Manchurian Candidate (1962), An American in Paris (1951), Shane (1953), The French Connection (1971), Forrest Gump (1994), Ben-Hur (1959), Wuthering Heights (1939), The Gold Rush (1925), Dances With Wolves (1990), City Lights (1931), American Graffiti (1973), Rocky (1976), The Deer Hunter (1978), The Wild Bunch (1969), Modern Times (1936), Giant (1956), Platoon (1986), Fargo (1996), Duck Soup (1933), Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), Frankenstein (1931), Easy Rider (1969), Patton (1970), The Jazz Singer (1927), My Fair Lady (1964), A Place in the Sun (1951), The Apartment (1960), Goodfellas (1990), Pulp Fiction (1994), The Searchers (1956), Bringing up Baby (1938), Unforgiven (1992), Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967), Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
77. Drink a Pisco Sour on the beach
78. Move to Nashville
79. Join writer's group in Nashville
80. Own a Japanese sake cup bathtub
81. Be active participant in my neighborhood
82. Frame art that's important to me
83. Go on New Orleans walking cocktail tour
84. Collaborate on hitRECord
85. Have a drink at glass-enclosed New York Central Restaurant over 42nd St.
86. Travel by train from one US Coast to another
87. Watch or re-watch 100 documentaries:
The Cove (2010), Spellbound (2002), God's Next Army (2006), Truth or Dare (1991), TransGeneration (2004/2005), The Century of the Self (2002), The Kid Stays in the Picture (2002), A Film Unfinished (2010), When We Were Kings (1996), When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts (2006), One Day in September (1999), Wartorn 1861-2010 (2010), Jesus Camp (2006), 9/11: Press for Truth (2006), Grizzly Man (2005), The Mormons, Frontline (2007), The Eyes of Tammy Faye (2000), Shut Up & Sing (2006), Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004), Man on Wire (2008), Gasland (2010), Tarnation (2003), Murderball (2005), The Power of Nightmares: The Rise of the Politics of Fear (2004), The Filth and the Fury (2000), All Watched Over By Machines of Loving Grace (2011), Lake of Fire (2006), Who the #$&% Is Jackson Pollock? (2006), New World Order (2009), The Corporation (2003), Darwin's Nightmare (2004), Neshoba: The Price of Freedom (2010), Inside Job (2010), Taxi to the Dark Side (2007), Paragraph 175 (2000), Brother’s Keeper (1992), Tongues Untied (1989), Dogtown and Z-Boys (2001), Food, Inc. (2008), Street Fight (2005), Bus 174 (2002), Crumb (1994), Dark Days (2000), The Fog of War (2003), Bowling for Columbine (2002), Paris Is Burning (1991), Trouble the Water (2008), An Inconvenient Truth (2006), The Celluloid Closet (1995), The War Room (1993), Little Dieter Needs to Fly (1998), The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years (1988), Burma VJ (2008), Catfish (2010), The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters (2007), Philosophy: Guide to Happiness (2000), Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room (2005), Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills (1996), Exit Through the Gift Shop (2010), Capturing the Friedmans (2003), Touching the Void (2003), Supersize Me (2004), Biggie & Tupac (2002), March of the Penguins (2005), Waltz With Bashir (2008), Roger & Me (1989), The Thin Blue Line (1988), Hoop Dreams (1994), Jupiter's Wife (1995), RFK Must Die: The Assassination of Bobby Kennedy (2007), The Cruise (1998), We Live in Public (2009), Joy Division (2007), Dogs Decoded (2010), 9/11: The Falling Man (2006), My Flesh and Blood (2003), Enemies of the People (2009), Popaganda: The Art & and Crimes of Ron English (2005), Manufacturing Consent: Noam Chomsky and the Media (1992), Examined Life (2008), Cropsey (2009), I Like Killing Flies (2004), Hype! (1996), The Trials of Darryl Hunt (2006), The Trials of Henry Kissinger (2002), No End in Sight (2007), Art & Copy (2009), Helvetica (2007), Scottsboro: An American Tragedy (2000), Scratch (2001), Capitalism: A Love Story (2009), For the Bible Tells Me So (2007), The Oath (2010), Beyond Belief (2007), The U.S. vs. John Lennon (2006), Sex Positive (2008), Outrage (2009), Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson (2008), The Times of Harvey Milk (1984), A Brief History of Time (1991)
88. Have my own work space
89. Work on public speaking so that I like it again
90. Cut out dairy for a month and see what happens (whee!)
91. Listen or re-list to the 50 albums that changed music according to The Guardian UK:
The Velvet Underground and Nico, Self-titled (1967); The Beatles, Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967); Kraftwerk, Trans-Europe Express (1977; NWA, Straight Outta Compton (1989); Robert Johnson, King of the Delta Blues Singers (1961); Marvin Gaye, What's Going On (1971); Patti Smith, Horses (1975); Bob Dylan, Bringing it All Back Home (1965); Elvis Presley, Self-titled (1956); The Beach Boys, Pet Sounds (1966); David Bowie, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972); Miles Davis, Kind of Blue (1959); Frank Sinatra, Songs for Swingin' Lovers (1956); Joni Mitchell, Blue (1971); Brian Eno, Discreet Music (1975); Aretha Franklin, I Never Loved a Man the Way I love You (1967); The Stooges, Raw Power (1973); The Clash, London Calling (1979); Mary J Blige, What's the 411? (1992); The Byrds, Sweetheart of the Rodeo (1968); The Spice Girls, Spice (1996); Kate Bush, The Hounds of Love (1985); Augustus Pablo, King Tubby Meets Rockers Uptown (1976); Youssou N'Dour, Immigres (1984); James Brown, Live at the Apollo (1963); Stevie Wonder, Songs in the Key of Life (1976); Jimi Hendrix, Are You Experienced (1967); Prince and the Revolution, Purple Rain (1984); Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon (1973); The Wailers, Catch a Fire (1973); The Stone Roses, The Stone Roses (1989); Otis Redding, Otis Blue (1965); Herbie Hancock, Head Hunters (1973); Black Sabbath, Black Sabbath (1970); The Ramones, The Ramones (1976); The Who, My Generation (1965); Massive Attack, Blue Lines (1991); Radiohead, The Bends (1995); Michael Jackson, Thriller (1982); Run DMC, Run DMC (1984); Chic, Self-titled (1977); The Smiths, The Smiths (1984); Primal Scream, Screamadelica (1991); Talking Heads, Fear of Music (1979); Fairport Convention, Liege and Lief (1969); The Human League, Dare (1981); Nirvana, Nevermind (1991); The Strokes, Is This It? (2001); De La Soul, 3 Feet High and Rising (1989); LFO, Frequencies (1991)
92. Read How Nashville Became Music City USA by Michael Kosser and listen to the artists from the book
93. Take Neill on vacation
94. Take a martial art again
95. Have a pair of custom boots made
96. Buy gifts from local and independent artists and businesses
97. Learn how to play the MF tax game
98. Keep working on being a better manager and leader and don't get complacent
99. Start a business
100. Do a form of street art

I'm going to Camp Mighty

I've worked on the American Idol tour for the past seven summers and had plentiful good times but I also missed a lot: a Bronx summer reevaluating my life and possibly my decision to quit my publishing job, a Columbus summer with Bova flowing with gin & tonics, laughter, and solitude (I used to sit in his living room and underline A LOT of philosophy), a summer in LA which would have hastened an inevitable break up, a couple of summers in Kentucky with Matthew and all the backyard parties and cut off jean shorts that entails (apparently no slim figure) and finally, I missed BlogHer conferences.

I've read accounts of BlogHer with envy, nice I want to be your friend envy, not mean I want what you have and would poke you in your eye to get it envy, but envy nonetheless. Each summer I'd become immersed in my job, stepping far away from my blog and feeling like I was starting over each September. I always wished I was going to BlogHer to meet all the smart ladies I lurk about online but instead I was on a midnight bus to Tulsa eating string cheese and drinking a Bud Light.

When Maggie Mason and Laura Mayes announced Camp Mighty, I was thrilled. It's in November and therefore not summer, it's in Palm Springs so I can drive, and that's all it took. I signed on immediately.

This summer I was offered a job tour managing promo for one of the Idols' new albums and I took the job on the condition that I had certain dates off, like Nov 10 - 12. It's been tricky trying to do everything well at once - do well in my relationship even though I'm not home much, do well in my job because I have pride and care about the people I'm working for, and do well creatively. It hurts to write this next sentence but, ah well, I think it's true: because I'm not getting paid for being creative and being married, I think those areas are taking the biggest hits right now. I will smile through bloodshot eyes to make sure I get my job done but I'm not writing much and no amount of phone calls a day are equal to the simply being next to someone you love.

Nov 10 - 12 is creeping up and I'm starting to feel like Camp Mighty has jungle eyes. Yeah, I'm likening drinking a poolside cocktail at the Ace Hotel to a panther staring at me through the pitch, eyes glassy and reflective. I have to prepare! I'm on a team and we are raising money for charity: water, a non-profit that brings clean drinking water to people in developing nations. And by we I mean they because I've done fuck all. My personal Charity Water brainstorm session starts Sunday when I'm hanging out in Nashville with Matthew, my last show of the week completed.

I'm also in process of writing my Life List of 100 things I want to accomplish with relish. Big, small, and medium-sized, these are the items on my bucket list that I need to have noted and ready to dissect for Camp Mighty. Sounds fun? It is. And hard. I had no idea. I've worked on it mainly on planes this last week and it's finally getting up there; I think I'm at #84.

Laughing quietly to myself

About how when I was riding bikes through Oceanside with Marisa and I asked her which street we should take to cross Mission, she said the street with the light BECAUSE DANGER DOESN'T TAKE A HOLIDAY.

They hate elves

Due to corporate relationships that I'm not at liberty to discuss, I can't say exactly why I find this photo funny and yet I'm compelled to share...I know, annoying. The palm tree enemy is really for Elise since she was witness to my most vehement outbursts against palms when we moved to California and walked around Oceanside those first few days. The Keebler Elf enemy is unrelated except that it happens to be on a truck parked in front of a palm and I might have once heard an executive say sort of joking and SORT OF TOTALLY SERIOUSLY say, "We hate elves."

And I laughed but instantly mourned because I wouldn't be able to blog about it for real.

I don't hate elves. But I love that there are people in the world who can say that and have their reasons.

Going away

Sunny, Mandy, and I have always talked about going away together. We used to imagine a garret apartment in Paris where we would live poverty-stricken, adventurous lives and would know when not to enter our shared flat due to the colored bandana-over-the-doorknob system that told when one of us had a boy over. I love that we never imagined enough money to have our own space; it was always small and close. When Sunny and I met Mandy in junior high, we started sneaking out of our homes and trying to get in trouble.

I think we were all impatient for MORE: more age and freedom and independence. I know that more than anything, I craved experience. I wanted to rack up experiences like bright beads and wear them as a necklace, a hemp necklace. (It was the 90s). I thought about other girls I knew who followed rules better, many of whom I liked and were my friends but who I didn't necessarily feel as inspired by because they weren't as daring. I thought I'd rather question everything and make mistakes and learn my own way. I remember thinking, "I'd want my child to be this way."

This past weekend, Sunny, Mandy and I finally went away together to Union Pier, on Lake Michigan, with their girls Freddie Jane and Sarah Grace, aged 2-and-a-half and 2 years old.

Photo: Sunny Neater-Dubow

It was nuts in a really calming, wine-drinking, walk to the beach sort of way. In some ways I still see our cravings, the more-more-more thirst for whatever it is we want and in others a bizarrely complementary patience reigns. Slow to marry and mate, their babies are so young and we are all still young enough yet we're 20 years removed from our Paris dream, a dream that specifically wasn't important. None of us had a great love for the French, we just wanted to be out in the world. And we all got into it in our own way.

Photo: Sunny Neater-Dubow

I know that I'm old enough to be slightly terrified at the idea of all of the above: having kids, not having kids, having my kids be like me. When I was younger, I was glad I was so moody, petulant, and pissed off because I thought that meant I was thinking. Now I'm also glad I got out of a lot of scrapes in one piece because that thinking led me down some dark alleys.

I can't look at these little girls and wish dark alleys upon them for the sake of knowledge. I wish them confidence, joy, and curiosity. I watch them run around in circles, laughing and egging each other on and wonder if they'll get along when they're older. I think it's important that they see us make time for each other so that they'll value friendship. We laugh about how they might turn into princess-cheerleaders, so different than we were but we'll quell the cringe and love that about them, too.

I watched Mandy and Sunny sit on the floor and change their daughters into pajamas. Mandy passed a diaper to Sunny and I almost laughed by how similar they still looked to their high school selves, right down to their clothing. Everything has changed, and nothing.

Laughing quietly to myself

About hotels that try so hard to be sexy or just so hard in general.

The sign under a light switch in Los Angeles that reads "Baby, you turn me on."

The hotel in Nashville where I have to call Matthew and debrief after ordering room service due to the officious way the staff asks permission to lift each silver lid off the food. Because I'm losing my mind I always have the sense that a) I'm rehabiting the mid-80s and have a butler, specifically Mr. Belvedere, or b) It's my senior year of high school and the Antioch College Sexual Offense Prevention Policy has come out in response to date rapes on the Yellow Springs, OH campus and consenting adults must obtain verbal consent before proceeding with each step of sexual advance. May I unveil your medium hamburger? May I wipe away the dew that has settled upon your water glass? Shall I heave over the pats of butter with tiny huffs of breath until you deem them spreadable?

After none of these things happen and I quash the whole charade with a quick "Oh naw, naw, I got it," the kitchen usually still calls up to the room to TALK ABOUT IT and make sure I had a good experience. That's when I call Matthew and say, "Next time, I'm secretly filming it so you know what I'm not exaggerating..."

It's incredible. I'm sure there are people this kind of service appeals to. If I didn't get so holed up in my room working, not wanting to break my momentum or waste time by going outside and finding a restaurant, I wouldn't even know about this shit. In New York at least I can be a workaholic and neurotic and still never succumb to room service because there is always something open, nearby, and quick to walk to.

But this hotel today in Midtown Manhattan has SHOT GLASSES instead of regular glasses to drink from in the bathroom. And even though they are double shots, do you know how frustrating it is to try to quench your thirst with shot after shot of water? I looked like a damn hamster last night and finally stuck my mouth to the faucet. I'm sure someone thought the shot glasses were clever, though.

Waking up in Union Pier, MI

A. Skate

Full disclosure: Despite all my talk of skating and the fact that I have my own board and there's a small colony of skateboards leaning up against the wall at my front door, I skated a total of ONE TIME this summer. ONE WONDERFUL, GLORIOUS TIME.

I've regretted the fact that I talked so much about skating before tour because by August I couldn't stop thinking what if I break my hands if I skate on a day off? How will I type and do my job with broken hands? Somehow I imagined a cast extensive enough to require a little stilt between my torso and arm. It was a bad break, bad enough to break both arms along with my hands. Really bad.

My one skate was in Salt Lake at the very beginning of the summer during rehearsals. I was walking around the city with Neil Wilson and we spotted a deserted parking garage underneath an apartment building. I scooted around and leaned this way and that and took a few turns and was pretty pleased with myself. Nothing fancy but it felt like a solid start.

For the rest of summer I was harassed by Neil Rinden and Tyler, both of whom would ask me periodically how my skating was going and then make fun of me for being a poser. Neil Rinden was particularly relentless and kept asking to see my wheels to which I kept giving him the finger. Finally, on the second-to-last show day he said that we had to do a photo shoot of me "tearing it up." Sure, I said, no problem.

I forgot, though, how crazy the last show day is. There is so much to wrap up and close out and take care of and it's one of those days where I want to be sentimental and thank everyone personally from the bottom of my heart for all their hard work but I end up resorting to Lamaze breathing to try to calm the fuck down and at best manage to share a few beers in the parking lot after load out.

When I saw Neil in the dressing room corridor that day he said, "Roncker, get your board out!" and I distinctly remember replying simply, "NO," over my shoulder as we passed. The photos didn't happen, the wheels still look new and I still can't skate very well but I still think it looks fun especially now that I'm less worried about the repercussions of being in a body cast.

But what I really wanted to tell you to check out is this: A.skate, a nonprofit for autistic kids.

Children with autism often struggle with the ability to follow directions, play on a team due to the lack of social skills, and many require activities to be performed on their own terms.

Autism, like skateboarding, can be unpredictable and often times unruly. We embrace the parts of autism that are hard to understand and give these kids an outlet that is free of rules or judgment, and allows them to be social without being “social”.

How cool is that?

ALL-GIRL RAGE TRIBUTE

It happened in Nashville last night. Yeah, I'm bummed I missed it.

DTW

You know you're traveling too much when you realize you're going through the Detroit airport SIX TIMES IN A TWO-WEEK PERIOD. DTW is arguably my favorite airport in the country but still, too much.

Laughing quietly to myself

About how Matthew woke me up in the middle of the night talking in his sleep about what a good movie Karate Kid is.

Johnny Mañana's pt. 2

Johnny Mañana's pt. 1

I felt at home and lazy eating a burrito at Johnny Mañana's this weekend, laughing with Matthew about the night out before and planning to see Drive at the movie theater across the street later that evening. It was sunny and warm and relaxing on the patio until an idiot kid drove by and threw a M-80 firecracker into a stroller on the sidewalk. The baby who belonged to the stroller was being held at the table next to ours when it exploded. Our waitress investigated and laughed. The father inspected and came back calmly. I felt jumpier than everyone else at lunch was acting; maybe I'm not as relaxed as I thought.

I've been ON for months so coming home and unwinding is easier said than done. I want to calm down deeply. I don't want to portray calm so as to project an image and encourage those around me to feel confident, I want to feel it in my own motherfucking marrow but it takes time.

I got a massage in Manila. A tiny woman straddled my back and chopped up my butt cheeks like she was mincing vegetables. She wound my legs around sockets I wasn't aware of, stroked my scalp, and paid so much attention to each knuckle on my fingers, I could have kissed her. Instead, I tipped her big. I slept eight hours on the 13 hour flight home, drank wine like water, and saw everyone safely on their way. This would be my cue to take a deep breath.

Matthew: "Hey! I'm not an American Idol! You don't have to fight me!"

Me: "What? Oh."

Matthew: "This is a discussion, not a battle."

Me: "I'm sorry, you lost me."

One of the Idols was cracking me up, telling me that she's going to have PTSD, Post Traumatic Signing Disorder. She's caught herself smiling for cameras as she's falling asleep in that half-in/half-out state, alone in bed in the dark, flashing her teeth and cocking her head to the side. Another found herself murmuring to herself in her sleep, "Thank you, thank you so much for coming to the show..." We are all of us firmly anchored to what was required over the summer and now it's time to lift that. (It's heavy).

Have I mentioned that I'm grateful? I am. It was a great group to work with for many reasons. Part of the reason that it's harder to settle down right away is that I'm jumping quickly onto another project. It's smaller and more sporadic but still enough work to keep me from cartwheeling down the beach in my free time. Make that "free time". I'm grateful for this new work too, it's just hard because it feels like I'm losing the balance war.

Do you remember the time I asked Geoff, my old boss, how you balance home and work?

His answer was swift.

"You don't."

I found that depressing. I've never ever thought that work was worth destroying personal life and I still don't. Yes, we make sacrifices in the short term but - for us, until now - it's been okay because overall we've come out ahead. The minute that reverses itself is when I start reevaluating everything. Until then, each walk in the park is a gift.

Asylum

Short video featuring Oceanside, Asylum skate shop and Pablo, Matthew's co-worker:

http://theberrics.com/field-ops/asylum.html

Lush henna - After

Several people asked for after photos from my recent Henna session so yesterday I obliged and stood in the mirror mugging myself for a few too many minutes. It was further proof of why I'll never be a style blogger. It is so hard for me not to look crazed, goofy or cross-eyed in photos. Ignore my face and focus on the hair color, thanks! This hue brought to you by two blocks of Caca Marron and one Caca Rouge.

Manila minute

What a strange introduction to the Filipino culture this week was. My time here was so structured that what I saw most were streets from the inside of buses and vans. Families of four riding one moped or eating dinner on the sidewalk, painted jeepneys, and slums in sharp contrast to our hotel swim-up bar.

Three times I drove to the GMA TV studio and stood on the sets of shows: Manny Many Prizes with Manny Pacquiao, Unang Hirit morning news, and Chika Minute entertainment gossip. I jumped over camera cables, avoided the shouting production assistants, and scooted out of the way as dancing girls in hot pink minidresses chittered past. I cringed as I watched an Idol eat balut, a day-old chick, straight from the eggshell.

I tapped my cheeks to stay awake when the jet lag kicked in, again. I sat beneath a lobby chandelier as a pianist played Greatest Love of All on the baby grand. In one hour at the pool at noon, my skin fried. They kept it open late for us last night; swimming at 3 am is much more gentle.

I passed through a market near the Araneta Coliseum. Beautiful pyramids of fruit, kaleidoscopes of color. Animal bodies hanging by hooks. Assaulted by the smells of red flesh and blood, I hurried past slimy butcher blocks. Live catfish flapping around for the last time finally lay still. Baskets of shrimp the size of my arm - not really - and chickens squawking.

A shemale swished down the aisle and all the vendors (it seemed) stopped what they were doing to jeer. I heard the hooting and catcalls and looked around confused. I caught short sight of her as she rounded a corner quickly, holding a handbag tightly, looking at no one who yelled.

Manila streets

Not famous, not backpacking

It's a good thing I'm not famous because apparently I don't do well with bodyguards. I was trailed by security the other day and within no time at all was plotting how I might sneak away unnoticed if it ever happened again.

Our promoters here in Manila are doing an excellent job taking care of us and they have local road managers and bodyguards available all day and night at the hotel. On day one in the Philippines we had a safety meeting wherein the Idols were lectured on common sense when traveling in a different country and one of the points made was that it's safe to walk around during the day but not so at night, at least where we're staying.

I've been so jet lagged that the last thing I want to do at night is walk around: I hit the wall around 8 pm. The other day, though, I had two hours before I needed to be anywhere in the afternoon so I thought I'd do one of my favorite things and wander for awhile. In the lobby, I encountered one of the ubiquitous bodyguards as I headed towards the door.

"Miss, you want to go outside?"

"Yes, I'm just going for a walk..."

"Wait, I get someone for you."

No, no I protested. I'm fine. It's daytime. But it didn't matter and a burly young man followed me. Again I tried to dissuade him. I'm just getting coffee down the street, I said.

"There's many bad people," he told me. "I walk a distance behind you."

I grimaced and froze for a moment, frowning. My reaction to having someone along during my alone time was so negative I came this close to saying sorry I can't do this and going back inside. Thankfully I resisted and started walking but anxiety set in and increased with each step.

Knowing that someone was walking behind me and watching every move made me UNCOMFORTABLE. I got so self conscious that I felt incompetent and began second-guessing everything: how fast I was walking, how I was holding my bag, crossing the street, stepping off the curb. I actually hesitated so severely while crossing one road that he hurried to join me, held out his palm and said, "Let's go," to indicate that it was safe.

I have been crossing streets by myself for 30 years now and in several countries just as crazy if not crazier than the Philippines. Didn't matter. When we got to the other side, he dropped behind and I felt horrible. Not only do I suck at life and can't cross a street, I have someone following me because I'm too much of a jerk to walk with him. Oh, shame. Over the next block I slowed and asked him a question. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he was doing something for me, not against me. I tried smiling. It worked! He introduced himself, "My name is Nino."

Nino and I ended up getting coffee and makeup remover wipes. We walked in step and he held his hand out to make sure cars didn't run me over. He asked me if I like history and told me about Intramuros, the walled city near our hotel leftover from WWII. I remembered Matthew and his Filipino co-worker's requests for traditional balisong knives. Nino and I walked into the walled city and I found balisongs with wooden and horse bone handles. We parted friends and he asked me if I was happy, I'm guessing because I seemed so different than the straight bitch I started out as.

So I guess I had to learn some lessons: just because I've traveled and done lots of stupid things in less developed countries over the years does not mean I know a lot, if I expect other people in my group to listen to safety lectures I probably should too, traveling with American Idol is not the same as backpacking anonymously.

Waking up in Southeast Asia

Manila, Philippines

Imperial Pub copycat

Total stranger in Toronto bar last week, totally biting my style.
Photo: Jenny Lobland

48 hours in NOLA

Ginger mint juleps, voodoo, sin, crosses and Irvin Mayfield. I say yes to all of that. I just wish I'd taken photos of Kermit Ruffins at Bullet's Sports Bar.

New Orleans, Louisiana

Lush henna

You know what's really interesting? MY HAIR.

I cut it and dye it and generally mess with it so much that I end up spending a lot of time in awkward stages of growing it out. If I could stick with a hairstyle, I would look more polished overall and less like George Washington or a medieval page. But I bore easily so, oh well.

My objective at the moment is to let my hair be itself...mostly. I'm done with the blow drying and flat ironing regularly; my hair curls and flips and acts out and I want to let it. But I'm not yet at peace with its natural color which is becoming, increasingly, gray.

I was born a humungous 10-pound slab of a baby with a little tuft of brown hair. I grew into a blonde kid and graduated to honey brown in junior high, aided in part by an affinity for buying Sun-in at Walgreens. Over winter, I was a darker brown. I spent a year of high school with long, fuchsia locks. I let a friend hack that off at some point and since then have experimented going shorter, darker, lighter, blonder, redder, whateverer.

In London in 2008, I let a hair stylist have his way and he, disdainful of blonde, dyed it a deep brunette with a heavy bang and a solid platinum streak. It was blunt and unapologetic and I thought it looked really good but it took WORK. I kept it up for awhile and flat ironed it to conform but the style slowly and eventually morphed into something else AND IT COSTS MONEY to have hair professionally maintained every few months. I'm also not willing to worry about my hair at the first sight of rain or humidity for the rest of my life; I'm not that fancy.

Since then I've gone jet black (not good with my skin tone) and several shades of brown with a few bleaching phases thrown in for good (bad) measure. I screwed with my hair so much that it was undeniably damaged last year: totally fried, limp, and stringy. I responded by cutting it all off.

Today I'm smack in the middle of another George Washington-ish grow out but I'm determined to keep it healthy this time. Once I realized I couldn't afford to dye it at the salon, I had three choices:

1. Be proud of my premature* gray and flaunt that shit
2. Buy cheap color from the drugstore
3. Find a third option

I initially chose 2 and went back to Walgreens, much as I did in junior high, but fuck, people, it hurt. The fumes from the dye stung my eyes and was obviously toxic.

Around this time I mentioned to Kevin, my assistant tour manager, that Matthew and I have a soap habit. We like soap and will throw down for a bar if it's handcrafted and smells delicious. Kevin responded by buying me a gift certificate to Lush as an end of tour gift, so nice! I did buy soap but I also read all about Lush Henna, a natural dye. No joke, I read nearly 400 reviews of Lush henna and by the time I got to #399 I was convinced.

Almost every person who wrote about Lush henna said their hair is softer, shinier, bouncier, and looks better than it did before. There are no chemicals leaching into your head and your brain when you use Lush henna. And it's relatively cheap. Why isn't everyone dumping this crap on their head? Probably because they either haven't heard how magical it is or they are scared by the fact that you can't put regular dye on top of henna so if you screw it up, you have to deal.

They may also be put off by the procedure: it sits for 4 - 8 hours before you rinse it out. It comes in blocks that look like baker's chocolate. You boil water, grate the blocks of color, mix up the four hues (Caca Rouge, Caca Marron, Caca Brun, Caca Noir) or use just one. Make a paste with the grated henna and slop/comb it into your hair. I rub vaseline around my ears and hairline, cover everything in sight with saran wrap including my head when I'm done, and then walk around with a shower cap on for the rest of the afternoon.

I know I'm not really addressing the fact that I could just HAVE GRAY HAIR. I'm not ready. I look at my mom who has the coolest most beautiful hair, who gets compliments on her naturally silver, naturally curly crazy hair all the time. She says that when she's in a room with women her age, she's often the only one who isn't dyed to kingdom come. She looks so, so good and I admire that she doesn't hide anything and isn't afraid of her age or her hair but I'm not there yet. Perhaps we shall delve into why in a later post?

Saran Wrap, headband, blocks of Caca Marron & Caca Rouge, cheese grater, rubber gloves, tea kettle, shower cap, mixing bowl, photo of llama for visual interest

The last time I used Lush henna was on one of our recent days off. It was rainy and sucky out, the perfect time to hole up in a hotel room with a shower cap on my head, hoping no one pulled the fire alarm.

*I may be too old to call my gray "premature". Humor me.

Laughing quietly to myself

About one of the Idols who was getting nostalgic for the end of tour and going around the bus telling everyone how much he loves them. When he got to me he said, "Jess, I feel like if I kiss you you're going to knee me in the crotch so I'll just give you a hug." And maybe I'm wrong but I feel like there was love implicit in his understanding me so well.

Natural Ass vs. Natural Gas

I watched the documentary Gasland this Spring and it scared the spit out of me. I didn't know anything about natural gas drilling and the process of hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, and was struck by how easily I would have assumed it was a good source of energy just because it wasn't oil. Maybe it's the word "natural". It makes it sound so peaceful. It's not. It's f'ing frightening. Go get a glass of water in the middle of the night and your tap bursts into flames, live with constant headaches and nausea, the health of your body and your land and your water and your pets in decline, slowly poisoned, FRIGHTENING. It's happening all over the U.S.

I recently met a woman named Jaime who works at the arena we played in Long Island. She came up to me to ask me if I'm Jess and then introduced herself. She's dating Ronnie, who gave me my first touring job, and she knows his friend Ariel, who was also my friend in New York. I emailed Ronnie and Ariel, giddy with excitement as it's been two years that I've been in contact with either and haven't seen Ariel in six.

Ariel and Jaime gave me the website of a project he founded this year, Pedal Power NYC, and it is hilariously creative and inspired. Pedal Power NYC put on a concert in Union Square powered by humans riding bicycles. Natural Ass, not Natural Gas. Brilliant. I cannot wait to get my ass on one of those bike generators and help put on a show.

“Pedal Power is an action that demonstrates the creative energy within our community. It demonstrates our ability to make our own energy choices, and it demonstrates the will of a city that is infinitely more powerful than the kilowatt hours it consumes. We will not solve our energy and water challenges on bikes alone, but through purposeful actions in this spirit, we will be the generators of our clean water future. Pedal On!”

The Natural Ass Sessions - NYC from Pedal Power NYC on Vimeo.

Outdoor community movie theater

Once I see something like this, I know I'm going to like a place.

Providence, RI

Never Never

Kickstarter is one the newest coolest things I've heard about. I know about it thanks to Megan and have contributed only to her project so far but how badass it to see her, in her words, CRUSH HER GOAL and get to finish her album with the support of hundreds of people? Veeeeeeery. DIY, just do it. Here's a video that she just made.

Desiderata

I drank an americano at Bard Coffee in Portland, Maine and read the local weekly. An article about Market Street Eats made my mouth water so I looked up the address and walked a few blocks to buy a wrap at the sandwich shop, an avocado melt. Everything the article said about the food was true, so dang good I went back for breakfast.

When I stepped in the second time, the guy who took my order the day before said, "Hey Jessica..." all casual, like we've been homies forever when our entire relationship actually consisted of him writing my name on the food ticket yesterday.

"Hey," I said and complimented his memory, "Nice one..."

While I waited for my breakfast sandwich, I wandered around and looked at the walls, at the license plates, bumper stickers (Jesus would signal, Who died and made you Elvis?), artwork, and photographs and then I saw Desiderata.

As has so much lately, the timing felt auspicious. Not everything in the poem spoke to me specifically and I don't mean to sound as if I'm in some sort of spiritual crisis but this has been a summer of challenges, conflicts, and confrontations. I've also cackled and chuckled but the laughs don't loom as large. It's been exhausting at times, exhilarating at others. I've questioned a lot what goes on around me, what goes on inside me, and how I handle the both.

Overall, I'm proud. I still have to order myself everyday to get my nose out of the paperwork and keep laughing, that it's all part of a bigger picture and all learning. I don't know what part of that learning curve I'm on but I'm riding the hell out of it.

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Waking up in Portland, ME

Waking up in Providence, RI

42 pages of shoes

It doesn't look like hurricane weather from my window in Providence, Rhode Island but I've seen the photos taken from the international space station. ONE THOUSAND MILES OF PURE STORM. It's practically sexy.

We have postponed a show and changed route for the hurricane. Depending on what happens tomorrow - if Irene slows down or speeds up - we may revise our plans of when, exactly, we leave Providence for Portland. All I know is I got galoshes yesterday in Bridgeport. And even though I played it cool last night, I was COMPELLED to spend the two hour overnight bus ride browsing shoes on 6pm.com. Now, they were deeply discounted - I looked at nothing less than 60% off - but I got through 42 pages of shoes. 42 pages of shoes. On some deep, dark, level, I was stressed and I needed to be soothed by 42 pages of shoes.

Graft

National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden, Washington DC
Graft by Roxy Paine
Stainless Steel
Photo: Matthew Cooper

Flowers taped to utility post

Flowers taped to utility post? Sure, why not.



Long Beach, Long Island

Laughing quietly to myself

About how Renee asked if living in the land of sunshine makes one passive aggressive or aggressive aggressive. Well, I said, I flicked off a palm tree at the botanical gardens in DC the other day so I'll let you be the judge of that.

Hiding behind stuff in DC

We chose beer and statues.

National Archives

Research librarian standing in front of National Archives, Washington DC.

Happiness.

Hearts

Last night I went to bed sick (body) and tired (mind). I've been worrying about things I can't control and I was caught up in an ugly mix of gloomy sadness and hot anger. Swinging wildly between wanting to escape (read historical novels in bed and eat jellybeans until my stomach aches) and wanting to take a motherfucker out, my temper has been shorter, my patience thinner, and my nose is running.

Reading blogs today snapped me out of it; sometimes other people's words are just what I need. While I've shied away from much of the online social media world and have stuck just to blogging, I'm reminded this morning of why I keep writing and reading blogs even if I don't tweet, have pinterests, and quit Facebook.

You don't always know what's well received or not when blogging. Silences may hang after posts. Did it make sense to anyone? It doesn't necessary matter but knowing when you connect with someone is gratifying. My friends and family often comment away from the blog and give me their reactions privately. I'm not a huge commenter myself so I'm definitely guilty of not telling people what I think and, actually, really want to do more of that.

I woke up early this morning and decided to try harder. I pulled the curtain open and opened the laptop. Among all the sites I checked were Megan's tumblr and Already Pretty. God, ladies. Thank you! Megan's posts on awareness and peace and Sal's thoughts on assuming positive intent were so damn timely, it nearly broke my heart.

"Hearts and rainbows!" as Rinden and I say sarcastically. Well, hearts. I'm still not really into rainbows.

Jersey Shore

Also seen in Atlantic City: a lot of tribal tattoos, tans, manbellies, boardshorts, baseball hats, bumping, grinding, drinking, the limbo. And this shirt: Cool Story Babe. Now go make me a sandwich. I'm sure there are redeeming qualities to this place. Right?

Day off in Ohio

I drove south on I-71 from Columbus to Cincinnati content. Snarling Nine Inch Nails loud with the radio, it could have been 1992. The familiarity, even the HELL IS REAL billboard, made me smile. I picked up Neill and he held onto my right hand as I drove with my left. We drove to our parents house and I slept in the bedroom I grew up in. The books on the shelves reminded me of college and the years just after: women's studies, writing. A thunderstorm. The ceiling fan clicking over my head. The white curtains we hung in seventh grade. I woke up early and drove back north to work.

Scene in NYC

Courtesy of Halle Heyman

Dolly

I'd like to kick off August with this poster I saw in Nashville a few days ago.