BOULDER, CO-

It was located in the basement of an old craftsman that had virtually no ventilation, directly across from the elementary school on Pine Street. When you walked down the stairs and into the dank space the air was hazy with dust particles that shone in the sunbeams that had bullied their way in through the highly set windows. The fractured yet cheery sunlight being the only reminder of outdoor life to the subdued musty feeling that hung in the underground quarters.

The house itself was a rundown rental: The small front yard was an odd mixture of overgrown weeds and patches of dry bare earth. Plaid couches, rescued from various dumpsters around town, littered the crooked porch of the sinking haven. Discarded empty bottles of whatever cheap alcohol someone managed to shoulder tap and smashed beer cans lay strewn about the base of the discolored sofas like barnacles. Really, the exterior appeared much like the interior, sans the heavily used and abused musical equipment and beer matted shag carpeting. The windows sat askew in their rotting wood frames like the crooked smile of a child who had just lost its first tooth. The filthy glass was covered in punk rock ooze, creating a darkened hue, that you couldn’t see in, or out of. (more…)

DENVER, CO-

I had the flu. Well, maybe it wasn’t the flu. It could have been stress. There are times, when I am excessively stressed out, that my stomach hurts and I get nauseous. I feel as avocado-green as a 1970’s kitchen appliance.

At first I thought that I had eaten something questionable, but after two days I had given up on that notion. It had been going on for a week. I didn’t feel bad enough to stay in bed but I didn’t feel good enough to actually do anything, let alone do it effectively. So I whined on the inside, annoying only myself with my self-pitying inner monologue, while externally powering on with my daily life at a maddeningly slow and completely ineffective pace. (more…)

DENVER, CO-

Driving across the country always feels like freedom. Music blasting, singing at the top of your lungs to songs you would never begin to admit you have on your iPod, and single-handedly keeping Starbucks in business as the plains of Eastern Oregon and Idaho blur together out the car window at 105 MPH. A good road trip is never hard to find. Every time I take to the open road, I realize I don’t do it enough. It’s the idea of the unknown, new beginnings, adventure, and of course, my unfounded fear of serial killers that keep my foot firmly planted on that gas pedal. (more…)

PORTLAND, OR-

I’ve been absent. My bad.

I moved. Moving sucks. I mean, the relocating part is good. I like that.

This was a big relocation for me, halfway across the country. It involved me, a dear friend, three pocket dogs and a goldfish, all in the cab of a very large moving truck. A comedy of errors in itself, but I’ll save that for later.

There was also some truck-stop food involved. Truck-stop food, the other gray meat.

I consider all of this fun, an adventure. (more…)

BURBANK,CA-

Picture this: Hungover semi-employed writer chain smoking on balcony in last night’s skimpy yet very comfortable and flattering outfit, unable to produce.

Yeah, that’s me. I haven’t mentioned the shoes I’m wearing, but trust me, they’re fabulous. I picked them up in Portland last week. Actually, I got two pairs, one in red and one in black. I’m wearing the black ones.

Still.

Which, in my bent mind, just proves me right about what good taste I have in shoes.

I love to be right.

(more…)