have you heard this cd?  rid of me by pj harvey? you should.  it’s psychotically amazing.

big day.  exciting day.  something for everyone here.

i’ve got lots of new stuff up.  a new story, the second and final xanga journal from my trip to new mexico, and some eye candy for those who are completely or mildly illiterate: 3 new overgrowth pictures (i told some of you i’d have more…i don’t lie)

first, the story.  i wrote it two nights ago on paper and typed it up last night.  it’s called 500 bakeries and it’s nice.  i’d finished off a bottle of wine and the first line, “500 bakeries lined the street north of my house.”  later i changed lined to line.  lined really killed the whole thing, don’t you think?  laura said it was disgusting, but funny.  50 points if you can guess what i’m getting at in the story. 

screw that, no points.  take the story however you want to take it.

next, the overgrowth pictures. overgrowth (two), overgrowth (three), and overgrowth (four).  if you’re only going to look at one, look at four.  i drive by it on the way into town.  it’s my favorite plant i’ve ever seen.  it seems to stand in defiance saying “bow before me and lick my roots” to all the lower, lesser plants.  i’m going to add a picture of it in the winter when i get it. 

then one new piece of news.  i very well may be published in an independent magazine.  why independent you ask?  i’d not have it any other way…unless of course i was asked to.  i’m not sure about the title, etc. of it, just that it’s new and, though i wasn’t told this, i’m assuming it must be kickass, yes?  frank the fish is the editor of it, and he found me and sent me a note.  anyway, it’s $2.50 an issue, with 32 pages. i’ll let you know more info when i get it.

okay, that’s all for now.  here’s the journal i wrote

july 13, 2004, tuesday

yesterday we went to alamorgodo as a stopover on our way to white sands.  white sands is this national monument where they blew up the first nuclear bomb.  there’s also an air force base there and there’s a spot for tourists where you can go play on the dunes.  it’s a desert, and it’s  white sand, made from gypsum.  i wanted to get bitten by something like a sand snake, some albino freak on the underbelly of nature.  no such luck.

so, alamagordo.  i wanted to go to a record store there.  i looked up in our phone book “music.”  the only music stores in the area were in alamagordo.  they had a hastings, and then they had days gone bye, and the ad said “rare, hard to find vinyl, cds, tapes, and more!”  while looking for days gone bye i got to see a lot of alamagordo, a somewhat small city.  i don’t know the population because they don’t seem to believe in giving out that information in new mexico on the city limit signs.  i’d say it’s about a fifth the size of austin.  actually, no, i have no clue.  anyway, driving along the interstate, i created the following, possibly a local legend of how the city was formed:

there were lots of pawn shops and miserable people living in the desert.  god saw this, and saw their boredom and hatred of life, so he took all the small towns they were living in, people and all, and flushed them down the toilet.  however, one of the towns was clogging the toilet, preventing the rest from flushing.  god grabbed this town and flung it into the desert, enraged by their insolence.  the town was alamgordo.

and that is the legend of alamagordo.

we finally found days gone bye.  the sign was light yellow painted on a white background, and it didn’t have “records” or “music” anywhere, just “days gone bye” and the phone number and zip code.  it seemed to be part of an “antiques” store (their nice way of saying crap, kind of like a pawn shop as far as the merchandise goes.  i actually do like looking around in these places so that got me more excited.)  stepping inside it felt like they had the heater on. it immediately crawled up my back and slapped me in the face, grabbed hold of my crotch and melted my feet.  a guy who worked there came up to us.  “just let me know if i can help you with anything,” he said.  “is days gone bye in here?” i asked.  “yep, that’s me.”  we stood there for a while.  has he rigged his dentures to somehow store and play music?  “um,” i said.  “where are the records?” he pointed behind him.  “right over there,” he said, then walked off. 

there were a few sad used cds, backstreet boys, cheap trick, others that i had never heard of, nor ever wanted to.  there was more vinyl than cds, but they mostly consisted of christmas records, lots of huey lewis and the news, and strange 70s glam rock.  they were a dollar a piece, so i got three, guy lombardo, kris kristofferson, and bruce hornsby.  (not becuase i was dying to get them…but because they were a dollar apiece)

by the time i picked these out my face was flushed from the heat and i was sweating in several places on my body.  i paid for the records and walked out, looking at the stuff in his display counters.  it was some pretty cool stuff, but i couldn’t stand the heat so i had to leave.  it was upwards of 90 degrees outside.  it was hotter in the store.

we next went to hastings.  i almost always go to an independent store to buy music, or at least save my money til i do, but with no record stores in sight i had to settle with hastings.  i got pj harvey’s rid of me cd (if you’ve never heard of her you must get something by her.  steal it, borrow it, whatever.  get it.  screw sleater-kinney.), franz kafka’s the trial for the 10 hour trip home, and the new believer, a music issue this time, with a sampler cd including the likes of death cab for cutie, iron & wine, the walkmen, and more (if you’re a fan of any of these don’t get too excited–they are just songs from their newest released albums).  then they had an article on elliott smith, colin meloy of the decemberists, david byrne (talking heads), joanna newsom, ulysses (the book, not the band), and, of course, a lot more.