I got everything I wanted for Christmas - I made my first overseas sale!
I am shipping some pretty earrings off to a nice lady in Paris tomorrow. I love the idea of some elegant French woman walking delicately over cobblestone as these jewels swing in the sun.
I am noticing a distinct thread in my work...Springtime-thirst. It seems far off now, but soon. Soon.
The last piece is my ode to winter, it does have it's pretty moments, despite the cold.
I have become so dependant on Etsy, it's frequent periods of downtime has really made me borderline. But on the bright side, I have been productive...
I'm getting started...Now that I will not spend the better part of time in Salinas. Business travel is for the birds.
I have been hunched over wire cutters and chain links for my last few weekends at home, feeding the dormant OCD tendencies that I luckily suppressed in the 11th grade.
My goal is to make enough money to purchase the materials, letting my hobby pay for itself. I want to do something modern, simple, elegant, and most importantly, accessible.
My only marketplace is Etsy, and my work can be found at my online shop, listed under kspell - what else? I hope you like what I have done! I am still moving in, so more is to come, soon, very soon...
I'm not sure what it is about the particular month of September, but I always seem to find myself in a lot of stress. When I was growing up I switched homes and schools every few years, so September always signified a new beginning. I was born in September, got married in September. Everything significant always happens in this month.
The last few days of this new year are no exception. I have been under a lot of stress. I have a constant ache in my stomach. My professional and family life are uncertain. I missed dancepod.
If I seem out of sorts of late, it will pass. Eric and YOU friends are the most functioning, healthy part of my life. My new year resolution starts now. I am going to go to Loyly once a week and will never miss an event like dancepod again. I will take my vitamins and sleep at least 8 hours a night. I will have you over for dinner more often.
If you looking for something new to listen to, check this band out. You can hear an amazingly long and blissful song simply by clicking your sweet little mousie right here.
If you already know this song because you love Wolf Parade too, then good for you. You and me are on the same page.
I promise you, this isn't a plug for myspace - that was so June 16th. I'm totally over it. Feel free to push that button, get out of your chair, lay on the floor, close your eyes, and listen.
雨季（うき) / the rainy season
雨が降りそう（あめがふりそう/ It looks like rain
雨雲（あまぐも) / a rain cloud
衣類（いるい) / clothing, garments
衣替え（ころもがえ) / a seasonal change of clothing
A PLAN is in the works, but I can't tell you what it is. Not yet. Wish me luck.
I'll keep you posted.
Growing up, I wasn't allowed to have short hair. I know it sounds like an odd thing to "control," but I suppose parents have forced stranger things on their children.
When I was 18, I chopped my hair off for the first time in my life. Ever since then I have gone back and forth, always wanting the opposite end of the spectrum. I cut my hair yesterday, and my family is coming to visit tonight. Coincidence?
Nope.
Last night, Eric and I went to meet David at a backyard bicycle-punk-rockabilly music show in North Portland. This is what I told Eric when I noticed my yellow leather sandals coordinated too well with my outfit as we walked towards the noise. He was willing to oblige, but I lost my nerve. Imagine that.
OK, yes I do. I had resisted for so long but then finally caved.
I am amazed at how it has completely transformed teenage social space. My three young sisters are logged in all the time, and I am always interested in exploring their pages, taking a peek into their complex social network 10 times the size of mine. The amount of time they have dedicated to customizing every detail is crazy. They are constantly experimenting with new painful color schemes and changing their profile picure like they should change their socks. Everything is so dramatic. One sister is in love for the first time, and her defining statement is "I love Logan!" My other sister's page is filled with flash animatin with the words "My heartbroken...........1 too many times...." running accross the screen.
Every parent should have a myspace account for this very reason. It's sort of fun to tease the kids into submission using virtual forms of public humilation. Doing so will usually result in removal of pictures.
Compared to these three girls, I was a pretty shy kid growing up. I don't think that I broke out of my shell until later in highschool with thanks to dope. But if I would have had myspace - damn! I think I would have been logged in 24-7 and completely drug free. Either that, or I would have started taking drugs way earlier. Hard to say.
In high school, the internet was something only Max Bonebright seemed to be catching onto. Robin and I would tip toe around this brave new world, sifting through archaic search engines looking for ANYTHING, music, boys in Kansas, whatever. 10 years later, I'm suprised when I meet people who don't have computers...and am somewhat suspicious of them.
I didn't take this picture, Eric did. He's amazing. He really is. Universe, tell me how I managed to meet this man? How the hell did I get so lucky?
I am here to tell you that those cliche notions that people can complete other people, that someone can make you a better person, make you more you - Yes, it's true. That's what happens when you meet a genuinely good, generous, creative person. If you don't have that in your life, stop what you're doing and go find it right now. That's the only life advice that I will ever have the right to give, because it's what I know.
Happy birthday baby.
I don't know what it is about concert settings, but in the midst of live music by a band I adore- I will draw blood if provoked. Perhaps it's the late 90s mosh pit spillover (not that I would ever risk getting my shoes ruined and always stayed away from the action when possible) or maybe the need for me to have a memorable moment without undue obstruction, I have gotten into fights on more than one occasion. Lucky for me, I have always chosen my enemies wisely. I could have taken all of them if necessary. Now don't get me wrong, I am usually a very nice person, but don't push me.
Radiohead, 1995, La Luna
This was one of my first concerts, and probably the most memorable. We were three obsessed high school girls who drove up from Eugene, scouted out the venue early, and had an amazing Thom Yorke sighting in the East Portland industrial zone. I am sure he would have hung out with us had Yvonne not been so stoned and freaked out to scream at Robin to speed off after a long drawn out moment of staring. We stopped, he smiled, and we were cute. Case closed.
Later at the show, I was front and center until some girl in a furry coat pushed her way in at the last minute. Here I was trying to make a connection from earlier in the day, and Miss Retro Portland had to cut in. I used the furry hood of her coat to dispose of my chewing gum. Really ground it in there good.
Built to Spill, 1998, Wow Hall
It was summer, so most of the students were away and Eugene was a quiet, lazy town. The hall was hot and sweaty so I think it may have caused me to lose my sense of decency, since this was one of the worst things I have done to a perfect stranger. As the show got started some beautiful blonde girl snuggled up to the guy I was on the make for (now my husband.) She stepped right in front of me and all of a sudden the two of them were arm to arm. Perfectly poised behind her, I began to pull one of her lovely, gossamer hairs one by one. I got to three and she moved. She must have thought I was crazy, and in her defense, I was.
Talk Demonic, 2005, Doug Fir
I love the sound of this band. If you have ever been to a show at the Doug Fir and seen a band with less than 5 people on stage, drowing out the music and ruining THE ONLY FUCKING REASON I CAME HERE, it can get a little frustrating when the person behind you won't stop flapping their lip about something stupid and all you can focus on is their insipid conversation. I turned around and basically told this guy to shut up (not exactly "nicely"). He pretended like he couldn't hear me and then him and is fag-hag girlfriend decided to talk about how both of them couldn't hear me. "What did she say, oh I don't know, so anyways..." So I screamed it really loud, and got up in his pudgy little short dude face. My fists were tight, my pulse was jumpin and I was ready to throw down. They shut up and later I learned that he was the drummer of the unoriginal, souless opening band. Little concert etiquette needed - He of all people should know - no?
TV on the Radio, 2006, Doug Fir, and inspiration for this post...
I love this band. Thanks to my audiophile husband, I see a lot of shows, but this band rocks my world. I made sure I was front and center, and to be honest, I don't think I've done that since maybe Radiohead 1995. At the last minute some falling down, passing out dumpy girl runs straight into me and begins to fall on the floor. I believe shes ODing on something and feel bad for her, as opposed to holding her up for the rest of the show, I let her lean on the stage. Mission accomplished, as soon as the band came on she was doing great, waving her pudgy arms in front of my face. Rub it in why don't you. Toward the end I leaned down to make the comment that she seemed to be doing a lot better, and again, she couldn't hear me (sensing a pattern....) So I screamed in her ear and still she played deaf. I made my appreciation clear after the show. Don't worry, I didn't hit her. But she left saying, "I guess I know what kind of people live in Portland..." That's right honey, stay home.
When I was in India I recieved a lot of attention from everyone. Most of the white people who set foot in Vishakhapatnum are either Russian sailors or the token corporate lakey. Gurmeet, one of the nicest, sweetest people I met layed a pickup line on me I will never forget. This photo actually captures the moment. Here is what he is saying:
"You're dad must have been a terrorist because when he had you, he made a bomb!"
Seriously, he really said that....and I love him for it.
I wonder what the sign in his bomb shelter reads...I brake for fat chicks?
Eric and I just had a whirlwind, pseudo weekend. I went to Work on Monday, and by 5 it was Friday, I wish all Mondays could be as great. We drove up to Seattle on Tuesday, checked into the Hotel Max and walked to the Space Needle and back. 
The Yeah Yeah Yeahs sounded great, and the Paramount was beautiful. Karen O spit water into the air, writhed on the floor, and exposed her bra strap for me. Ok, not for only for me but for you, and Eric, and everyone who cares to see it. And who wouldn't?
I could have done without Maps and the 17 year olds singing along behind me, but these are the things that you get used to when you realize you're one of the old people at the show and there's no bar.
Oh yeah, and the kids loved her. I mean them. Every member was great, but Karen O was sex on legs.
My heavy metal, death metal brother has done me proud. Toby is only 14 months younger than me. People used to think we were twins growing up, and we used to play along with it, finishing each other's sentences for fun. I don't really ever remember life before him, he was just always there.
When I played drums for a short stint in college, he came to one of my shows and gave me his bracelet to wear. It was leather with spikes which made it a joke on my wrist, but I so happy he was there for me.
I am really proud of you Toby. You're band is totally bitchin.
I wrote the title of this post and asked Eric what he thought. He said it reminded him of a tampon commercial. Perfect.
March 23, Belle & Sebastian was amazing. Yes, they performed the song Portland, Oregon, and yes, I squealed like a schoolgirl.
On my way back home, we almost couldn't land. There was a terrible lightning storm and more rain than Mumbai had seen in a long time.
It was like Portland was reaching out to me through weather.
I am finally home, glad to be home. But I will miss you.
I will miss your colors.
I will miss your history.
I will miss your energy and your need to keep moving.
Most of all, I will miss your celebration of all things beautiful,
and the way you smiled at me.
