How To Become A Hipster

Snatchy

bananafistcakewalk — Fri, 03 May 2013 02:08:06 -0700

Last week, I went to strike for a show that I designed. The day before, I was running a 101 degree fever and had to spend the day in bed. Day of strike, I had spent the whole morning biking around town, taking care of various errands, and then went to work for approximately 9 hours, and then biked all the way to the theatre under the assumption that I would be up and down a ladder for a few hours. Keep in mind, I feel shitty as hell this whole day and was fairly certain I was going to faint.

I tend to NEVER dress appropriately for the weather. God knows that’s true. But when it comes to work-related attire, I know when it’s ok to be covered in paint, or when you should be wearing some pantyhose. Therefore, when I know that my day entails being horribly sweaty on a bike for any number of hours, I’m going to work toward dealing with that. Therefore I was serving yoga pants and sports bra/tank top fierceness, which I usually do when I bike anywhere, and I just bring a change of normal clothes with me.

When I arrived at the theatre, ready to work, I was met with a sea of actors throwing back some brews. Which I don’t mind. But I really would’ve preferred to be in bed. Sick and dying. Where I belonged.

I busted out the work I needed to finish, and right as I was leaving for the night, one of the actors in my show came up to me, cackling, and blurted out the following:

“So what’s your deal, are you like always on the way to the gym or what?”

Wow.

I obviously don’t feel like I need to explain myself to a sloppy drunk person who doesn’t know she’s being horribly rude. So I walked out.

This moment has sort of stuck with me the last few days. I would like to think I’m not that judgmental. (I probably am.) But I hope to be better than that, day to day. I also considered that I was taking that comment way personally, but what she said in front of a group of people made me feel immediately alienated. And sometimes it’s the other person’s fault. (And no, alcohol is no excuse for ANYTHING.)

Moments like that sort of channel into a personal reawakening for me. It reminds me that things we don’t understand don’t need to be scrutinized. If you’re genuinely curious about something, there is a classy approach to anything. And you always catch more bees with honey.

And if you’re gonna be a judgmental snatch to me, realize I’m going to blog about it.

Feminism.

bananafistcakewalk — Fri, 22 Feb 2013 00:14:00 -0800

I am so fucking riled up right now.

It’s a long story, but basically my best friend and I just got into an argument about sexism. He is a gay man. I am a straight woman. And we disagree? What. The.

It started with me saying that I wouldn’t be comfortable with having a male gynecologist. He says this is sexist.

I would not be comfortable having a male, who does not have the anatomical parts that I do, prodding around an area that, regardless of how much study, research, and medical science experience, he can never truly know or understand because HE DOES NOT HAVE A VAGINA. He will never know what it’s like to have your period, or uterine cramps, or have to fight half the population to have the rights to get birth control. HE CAN NOT KNOW THESE THINGS.

This makes me sexist.

I would feel, as dictated by basic human nature, uncomfortable with this arrangement, because I sleep with men. I would prefer a man’s interaction with my junk to be anything but medical. A casual interaction. An unflinching look at my crotch by a man who has somehow found a way to detach himself entirely from the carnal nature of this whole experience.

Oh, but I’m sexist.

That being said, I know lots of women who prefer male obgyns. Great. Great for them.

I am a prude. (And also sexist.)

He went on to say that when he went to the men’s health clinic, he had a female doctor. Great. Great for him. He has never, and will probably never, have intercourse with a woman. Same here. So logically, we would both prefer female doctors?

I think it also comes down to comfort level. I have an extremely private sex life. He sleeps with an astounding number of anonymous men. Therefore, I would think I would be more particular about these things.

But again, I’m sexist.

Call me old fashioned, but I’m still pretty sure that, as a part of a white male dominated society, trying to dictate the preferences of a woman when it comes down to the most intimate details of her reproductive life could also be construed as… oh… what’s the word….

SEXIST.

New Chapter

bananafistcakewalk — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 00:22:11 -0800

In 2 minutes, it will officially be Valentine’s Day.

In the past, this would have never phased me, made me feel any lesser, because before this past year, I have never really known what those feelings entailed. I’d see a Kay commercial every 3 minutes on tv and think “that is the most unrealistic thing I’ve ever heard of.”

The shitty thing is, it’s not. It feels like that, and it felt so vital to living. For the first time, I didn’t have to be strong. I could be weak and vulnerable. I felt so complete. Which, in retrospect, was basically just an addiction.

This year, I thought I would finally have someone. I would have someone to kiss on New Years at midnight. I would have someone to spend Valentine’s Day with. I would have someone.

And ironically, today I feel like I can finally say FUCK THAT. I don’t need it. I’ve never had it, and I don’t know how I could’ve ever deluded myself into making it such a priority. At the time it felt like the most important thing in the world. The corniest advice I get always ends up ringing the most true. As RuPaul says so eloquently: “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

I finally feel like I’m in a place where I love myself again. Any shortcomings in my previous relationship WERE NOT MINE. I know that now. And it is through no oversight or blame. After weeks of self-loathing, I can attest that much.

I’ve been spending my days biking all over town, and loving my new active life. I’m working a full-time job, finally getting a grip on my financial problems, and I’ve booked TWO lighting gigs. The only thing I’m missing is a man that makes me feel like I’m a priority in HIS world. Not the other way around. This is a two-way street, bitch.

After all the tears and the hurt, I know now that he was right. I DO deserve someone who will love me as much as I love him. It is just truly a disappointment that I was in it 100%. I saw the good in him, overlooked the flaws, and made the effort…. and he’s apparently incapable of that. Sad.

I may have gotten my heart broken, but the outpouring of support and love from my friends, combined with the much more important issues in my family, have finally helped me to get over the bump.

I don’t know that I’ll be jumping right back on board (since joining a dating site on Valentines Day seems like a TERRIBLE idea) but we’ll see where we land. I have a lot of myself to focus on for the time being.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Bike Rights!

bananafistcakewalk — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 02:40:34 -0800

One step closer to extreme hipsterdom: Yesterday… I got a motherfuckin BIKE.

Today I went to a shop to get all the gadgets: helmet, U-lock, hexkey multitool, LED lights, and of course, a bell.

(You know I’m gonna do it RIGHT.)

Now… I need rain gear. Because it’s supposed to be MISERABLE weather for the next 2 weeks and I don’t own anything waterproof. So it’s a good thing I got this train a-rollin when I did! I’m great at seasons!*

No, I haven’t named it yet, because I haven’t even taken it out for a proper ride as I just got a helmet TODAY. So cool it, Julio.

(Maybe Julio?)

This will hopefully accomplish the following things:

1) Get my ass moving. I sit at a desk for 8 hours a day, then sit on a bus for 1-2 hours a day and then come home and sit on my bed for enough hours until I have to then lay down which is like the lazier cousin of sitting down. So it’s time to get FIT.

2) Cost me less in the longrun. Bus passes ain’t cheap. The theory is that this thing will “pay for itself!” Which I know will not ending up to be true because life is HARD.

3) Result in more pleasant transportation experiences. I’m pretty much over waiting in the rain for a bus to show up in 4 minutes only to stand there for an hour. And then when the bus finally arrives, being greeted by the overwhelming STANK of homeless people. I am prepared to instead cross the Broadway bridge at my own leisure with the wind at my back and some sweet jams in my ears. (Not real jam.)

4) Give me PDX hipster street cred.

Things I am scared of:

1) Ass pain. It has already started. I need a new bike seat (the cool kids call it a “saddle”) because the one on my bike is for a man. And I have much more posterior than anterior… if ya know what I mean.

2) Physical failure. I feel like if I watch enough Biggest Loser I can deal with this, though.

3) Getting hit by a car/bus/person/bird/dog/plane/sandwich. I am not “good” by any means at riding a bike or anticipating danger yet. If I have to dodge anything in the near future… you can just go ahead and RSVP to my funeral.

4) Being unprepared. I didn’t get an emergency kit (IDIOT) so if I get a flat or something, I’m boned. I need to get one. (The Boy Scouts would probably back me up on this.)

5) Gettin jacked. If some dickwad steals my bike… I will literally lose my fucking mind. Part of me wanted to get 2 different U-locks to use at all times so any potential thieves would look at my over-the-top security system and be like, “Oh Jesus, screw that.”

6) Sucking at this.

*note: sarcasm

2013

bananafistcakewalk — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 22:53:40 -0800

Happy New Year, bitches.

2012 was a fucking rollercoaster.

I left the safety and promise of theatrical work in Kentucky. I moved on a whim and a prayer to Portland because I wanted to. I couch surfed for 3 months. I got an apartment with my best friend. I fell in love.

Cut to 3 weeks ago, my best friend gets in a terrifying bike accident, my sister tells me she has cancer, and then my heart gets broken.

As if the holidays weren’t already too hard to handle, my grandfather passed away on Christmas Eve.

So yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been ready for a new start.

I’ve been doing yoga again. I’ve been planning to get a bike and start the super Portlandy trend of biking everywhere.

Today I got a phone call from my father telling me that my creditors are coming after me for unpaid bills. So I have to consolidate my bills. Which everyone tells me is a terrible plan, but I have no alternative.

It’s hard to get a new start when YOU CANT GET GOING. Sigh. It’s hard to stay positive when things are so damn hard. Time heals all wounds? Let’s freaking hope so.

Dumped: An Analysis

bananafistcakewalk — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 16:10:43 -0800

I got 3 hours of sleep last night. I spent the entire time struggling to fall asleep… then thinking about how the pillows smell like his hair, and then be immediately upset because that was the case, and then burst into tears, and once calmed down, then try to fall asleep again.

I guess you could say I feel blindsided. And the shittiest part about all of this is that he was nice and honest about it. If he was a dick, I could be pissed off about it. But because he said things like, “I feel bad,” I want to hold him and tell him that I love him EVEN MORE.

Goddamnit.

I don’t know what I did or didn’t do. I was completely myself. I made sure to always be honest. And as usual, I poured my heart into it. Which I guess could be pinned as “my mistake.” But I’m a very invested person. If I get into something, I jump in, feet first. I’m passionate. Which is a problem, I guess.

Everyone says it’ll be ok and I deserve better. I don’t feel that way. I feel like he was the best I could’ve ever dreamed to be blessed with. Which is why I feel so terrible about myself. He says he cares about me. But how can you care about someone without love being a factor? I don’t understand.

So… now I’m alone for Christmas.

In Portland.

How much more hipster can you get?

Heartbroken

bananafistcakewalk — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 01:50:00 -0800

It’s the most overly-used, dramatic, bullshit term… but goddamn if it isn’t right on target.

I can’t sleep right now because my heart hurts. Literally. All of me aches.

I can’t stop crying.

I don’t know how to handle this. I’m new to this whole relationship thing.

I guess I didn’t ever consider that it was going to end.

Agradecida.

bananafistcakewalk — Thu, 22 Nov 2012 16:13:57 -0800

In 4 days I will have lived in Portland for 6 whole months. In that time, I’ve couch surfed, had 2 jobs, got an apartment with my best friend, gone vegan, and fallen in love.

I have a lot to be thankful for today.

Thanksgiving is just the beginning to a season of joyful spirits. Soon, everything will be red and green, blue and silver, flecked with christmas lights and tinsel. Soup and tea will be the obvious choice of meal at every opportunity. Everything is pumpkin flavored, and your morning Starbucks will have a little snowman etched on the cup. Boots piled by the door, fireplaces blazing. Blankets are tossed casually on couches, because you’re obviously going to need it later when you curl up and watch Breaking Bad with your boyfriend. Phone calls to extended family members are speckled with fond memories and awkward pauses. Stories of travel are on everyone’s lips, and luggage hopefully won’t get lost in transit. Everything seems possible.

People still ask why I moved here. I wish I could just say “So I could have all… this.”

Libra.

bananafistcakewalk — Wed, 24 Oct 2012 14:54:27 -0700

If you were to look at an astrological calendar, it would be simple enough to ascertain that, being born on Oct 4th, I am indeed a Libra. I take personal pride in being the only sign that is an inanimate object, along with being considered the most love-centric of all signs. I may not believe in the majority of the “spiritual sciences” but I think this is fairly accurate:

“You’re a social dynamo with a grand expression of love, warmth and vitality, wherever you go. In your social and love life you may find it just a little difficult at times to find partners that can keep up with your lively nature. As well, you have a most erratic and spontaneous tendency.”

Crazy in love? Preach.

(This is not the first time I’ve been told that I’m out of my mind.)

Lately, I’ve been finding it much easier to just accept the madness of day-to-day adventures, whereas in the arts, it’s actually kind of opposite. It’s a very regimented and industrious environment. Portland is not that way. I’m loving it. I love that every day there’s something silly and stupid to do with a group of people who are down to experience whatever same silly fun. Keep Portland Weird.

My biggest struggle as of late is that there’s not enough hours in the day to do such. I just got back from being gone for a week and a half, where I traveled to CO for my ladyfriend’s wedding (in which I caught the bouquet… holler!) and then to Vegas for my last(?) LDI. This is the first year of LDI where as much fun as I was having, I was truly homesick. And it wasn’t for Colorado. I think I’ve fallen in love with Portland.

While I was gone, I missed the 1 month anniversary of my first date with my boyfriend. According to Twitter, today is the 1 month of being bf/gf. I feel incredibly lucky, but also terrible for being absent for half of our relationship. You know what BNL says, though: We all know absence makes the heart grow fungus.

Squee.

bananafistcakewalk — Mon, 24 Sep 2012 22:25:41 -0700

Today, I deleted my OK Cupid account. Because I found someone. And he makes me sublimely happy.

I am sublimely happy.

Thanks, Portland.

Flippity Flop

bananafistcakewalk — Fri, 21 Sep 2012 01:32:32 -0700

As a friend of mine recently said, “Everything’s comin up Darci!”

(But just replace her name with mine and we’ll all be on the same page.)

((Actually, I don’t know why I didn’t just put my name there and then I wouldn’t have had to have prefaced it but it’s too late now I dedicated my time to it so THERE IT IS.))

My life has drastically shifted. Yet again. This time, in a positive, less insane way. Some would see it as normal progress in “growing up” but everything is new and shiny to me, like a newborn baby or a recently activated automaton.

Relationships and I have had a sorted past. It’s something I’ve never fully disclosed to anyone, and I don’t necessarily plan to. But suffice it to say, the move to Portland was for a lot of reasons, and that is definitely one of them. That being said, things are going really well. If they continue to go well (which I truly hope they do) there will probably be a facebook update of some sort. But I’m on the DL till then. My private life is private. (Hence the redundancy.) But I’m just going to be happy and enjoy the ride for now. :)

My new job has so far proven to be AWESOME. I’m still in “training” for the rest of September, which is kind of ridiculously long, but I’ll be a better employee for it. The only sucky thing is that I’m opening for the rest of the month, and I hate the morning. So. Boo.

I am very excited for my birthday. We’re going to rent a karaoke box thing. This means that we will have fun. Success. I haven’t forged ahead with any plans, but Nathan is making it happen, apparently. I am indecisive and whenever he asks me anything, I have no idea. I am Switzerland.

I am (shocker) excited as hell to go to LDI. It’s less than a month away, and it’s the last year I get to go. :( Nevertheless, I get to go to Vegas, see my LDI babes, and take incredible classes. (Shit I just realized I never emailed them and gave them my class requests DAMNIT) Oh, and drink my brains out. So that’s gonna be awesome.

After that point, I think I’ll have enough of my life back that I can start movin and groovin and getting more LD work in town. I got the itch, baby.

I just wanna make the lights go blink.

Acclimate!

bananafistcakewalk — Fri, 07 Sep 2012 14:22:56 -0700

As Tina Fey would say, “Things are happening!”

First- Amy and Will are separated. So that’s probably the worst thing that could ever happen. Besides the pilot for Evolution. BOOM ROASTED.

I got a new job yesterday!!!! It’s front desk at another spa. The differences are:

At the old Spa, I had to clean everything always, I got no fucking hours (which equals no fucking money), I had to stand all damn day (9ish hours), and I had to wear a black polyester uniform that made me sweat like a whore in church.
At the new Spa, I don’t have to clean anything, I get full time, I get to sit at a desk, and I get to wear whatever I waaaaaaant!!! (AKA Toms).
At the old Spa the only celebrity encounter I had was Dave Chappelle.
At the new Spa, my friend Kevin booked and checked in Florence Welch.
The old Spa is all the fuck way down south by the SW Waterfront by a bunch of office buildings.
The new Spa is 20 minutes away and in a cute hip little area.
The old Spa is next to the WORST GODDAMN RESTAURANT EVER.
The new Spa is next to an adorable cafe that I ate at and it will definitely be better.
The old Spa has a giant bitch I have to “answer to.”
The new Spa… has… strangers? I dunno… this seems more appealing, somehow.
The old Spa is the one my bestie left for the new Spa.
The new Spa has my bestie at it.
The old Spa was stingy about freebies so I just stole shit all the time. (I will be stealing lots before I leave on Wed.)
The new Spa gives everyone a free service EVERY MONTH. Apparently this is standard practice everywhere but my old Spa because they are stupid.
The old Spa is connected to a fitness facility, restaurant, and hotel. This is problematic and frustrating.
The new Spa is JUST A DAMN SPA and that is excellent news.

Suffice it to say, I am totally fucking stoked. I put in my “2 weeks” which is actually only one week because they’re terrible at posting a schedule 2 weeks in advance WHICH IS YOUR JOB, FRONT DESK COORDINATOR YOU FUCKING CUNT I AM OUTTA HERE.

Moving on.

I drank the Kool-Aid. I started an OkCupid account. Yes. I know. I KNOW. That being said, I have 3 dates this weekend. And I only joined like 5 days ago. Jesus Christ I don’t know how to handle this. Be ready for lots of blog posts about how awkward I am. Unless I get murdered in a dive bar. PLEASE CALL THE COPS IF I GO MISSING IN A DIVE BAR!

I watched all the speeches from the DNC and I cried. I think it’s either the overwhelming patriotism of election season. Or the PMS.

PORTLAND!!!!!

PDX Resident

bananafistcakewalk — Tue, 28 Aug 2012 14:24:57 -0700

I did it, y’all. I couch surfed for 3 glorious months and, when faced with having to actually start paying to sleep there, moved the fuck out and got a place to live.

My apartment is, what I would like to call, quaint. It is quaint because there is nothing in it. Just this morning I helped my bestie haul a desk upstairs after seeing it out on the curb. 4 days ago, I Craigslisted for hours to find a free couch. I found one. And upon lugging it home, getting it upstairs, and to the front door, discovered it DOES NOT FIT INSIDE. Therefore, it is currently residing on the front lawn, collecting mold and innumerable insects until the garbage company gets a complaint and it gets towed away. I do not intend to make the call, as I feel like the couch has already done enough to wrong me. And my phone is over there and I don’t feel like getting it or looking up the number.

The living room consists of a wireless router and a few boxes. The kitchen has a card table, one chair, and a popcorn popper.

My room is literally a pile of clothes and an air mattress. I broke down after sleeping on the cold hard ground for 4 days, so I walked to the Fred Meyer. They had twin air mattresses on sale for $15 so I grabbed one and headed to the checkout, where the cashier decided to tell me that he “got one of those. It fits perfectly in the bed of my truck.” I am now certain he is a serial killer.

We are also not allowed to have any pets, so I will probably have to become a serial killer too.

My bestie is currently going for a run. I refuse to do so based on the fact that I had to spend way too much money on a dress I will never wear beyond the one day it is mandated, and I want to sit here and eat cereal.

There is a magical and enjoyable part of living in PDX that results in complete laziness. It’s also probably partially because I didn’t get “the dream job” that I wanted. That aside, Tuesday will be my day of sedentary living, even though we don’t have a couch to laze about on. I can dream.

All I know is that in October I get to finally have “a vacation” which will consist of non-stop work, but at least the locations I will be in will be different, and I won’t have to roll any fucking towels.

I’m having a “happy” day.

thebackstagebadger: Submitted by hiding-behind-alibis

bananafistcakewalk — Tue, 28 Aug 2012 01:45:44 -0700

thebackstagebadger:

Submitted by hiding-behind-alibis

2 Months In.

bananafistcakewalk — Mon, 06 Aug 2012 12:35:28 -0700

As I sit here, 2 months after the second biggest move of my life, I’m sitting in a sweltering basement, listening to The Weakerthans with a dog in my lap that is not mine. This place is not mine. I’ve been a squatter here for 2 months too long, and hopefully, if the bureaucracy allows, I will be a renter of my own little slice of civilization this week.

My intentions were nothing but innocent in this adventure, but of course, there is always an uprising of something upon every move I make. The IRS is after me still for unpaid taxes. I need to pay back my student loans starting last week. After being here for 2 weeks, my computer got destroyed. I need to somehow afford a plane ticket with 3 stops on the way. And an overpriced bridesmaid dress. The kicker? I was told today that I probably won’t get full time hours at work.

It’s not all bad. Obviously. It just feels like a summer break in college. As if tomorrow I’ll pack up my suitcase and fly back to GJ to start a new season.

I started and finished the first inaugural show with a new theatre company in town. Considering I busted out 2 designs in about 2 days each, I would call it a crowning success. Only unsuccessful part? Unpaid gig. I understand that it’s for the love of the art, but this bitch needs to eat.

I’ve been hanging out with a few people more and more, but the more you live outside of the tight-knit community of theatre people, you realize that you have no idea how to “make friends.” Which sounds sad. And it is. But you never really consider that maybe you won’t be surrounded with people who like the same things you do and have the same ultimate goal that you’re all working towards. It’s teambuilding at its finest, and that tends to build friendships really quickly. When that isn’t the case… well… you watch a lot of netflix instant.

I feel like I’ve done enough hipster things that I’m slowly but very surely melding into the hipster universe of Portland. I bought a pair of Toms and an iPhone. I eat more often at food carts than in real restaurants. I take the tri-met everywhere and can probably figure out which stop I need to take to make a transfer to that other bus that I will probably miss because that’s my fucking luck. The next step is to get foodstamps and a fixed gear bike.

My foray into veganism is wavering. It’s hard to justify shopping vegan when you’re broke as hell and don’t know how to do it successfully yet. But it’ll happen. I’m in fucking Portland. So. Get it together, Vanessa.

The apartment that I’m hopefully getting has a chandelier.

Classy and ironic. AKA totally hipster.

Nesting.

bananafistcakewalk — Tue, 12 Jun 2012 01:29:08 -0700

Here are things:

1) After only 5 days of unemployment, I work in a spa. Oh yes. A fanshy-shmanshy day spa where people get massages, mani-pedis and facials. A magical world of aromatherapy and relaxation. A place that a loudmouth, sweaty, strong willed human does not fit in. But NO LESS! There I am. My job consists of booking appointments, taking exorbitant amounts of money from overprivileged snobs, and TOWELS. My job is almost entirely towel-related. Therefore, I would classify it as “unfulfilling.” But it’ll pay the bills for now. Good ‘nuff.

2) My entire life has turned into the bus schedule. I’m that girl listening to my iPod wearing sunglasses. Along with every other person under 30 on the bus.

3) I live 2 blocks away from a grilled cheese grill on a double-decker bus. I live 3 blocks away from an independent movie theater that serves beer and pizza while you watch the film. I live 5 blocks away from a gelato place, thai restaurant, and about 300 bars. Subsequently…

4) I’m going vegan. Don’t know when, but it’s happening.

5) I’m looking for a place to live. I love sleeping on a couch and all but uhhhhhhh. It’ll be weird and nice all at the same time. Weird because I won’t be living with 5 people. Nice because there’s an IKEA and I’m gonna get ALL MY FURNITURE THERE I LOVE YOU SWEDEN.

6) I’m all prepped to start emailing my life out to theatres. I’ve been out of the game for 2 weeks and I’m already losing my shit. I can’t stop having dreams about framing gel. I miss the shit out of LCT. It’s like moving away from home to go to college all over again. Except my home is not my home and my house isn’t 3 houses with my 20 family members inside.

7) I am going to adopt SO many animals. Like, so many.

8) I’m considering online dating if for no other reason, so I have shit to do in my spare time besides watch 30 Rock.

9) I will probably not online date as I am also very scared of being murdered.

10) Gays are not clean. Whatever the television tells you- IT’S A LIE.

Acclimation PART 1

bananafistcakewalk — Mon, 28 May 2012 00:24:49 -0700

I am here. Yes, I am here in Portland. I flew in last night at 8:00 (which equates to 11:00 Eastern so I was completely exhausted) and headed to a local restaurant/dive bar. It was very local of me.

Today I spent walking down probably every single street and riding every bus and lightrail and streetcar that exists. There are maps. There are many maps. They are confusing. I am scared of this.

I have, and will always be, TERRIBLE with directions. Yeah, I know Colorado Springs like the back of my hand, but that took 20 freaking years. I don’t got that kind of time. If someone says to meet me on Burnside and 26th, I BETTER KNOW WHICH BUS LINE TO RIDE. This, I believe, will prove to be my greatest challenge.

Things I did today that TOTALLY give me street-cred as far as Portland goes:

-I went to Powells Books.

-I went to Voodoo Donuts.

-I took the Airtram over the city.

-I moved in with two gay men.

-I rode the Max. A lot.

-I ate at adorable bistros. A lot.

-I went to a barbeque with a bunch of theatrical vegan lesbians.

I am currently laying on the couch that will be my bed for the next few weeks (I can only assume) that is in my best friend’s living room. The people above me are listening to “My Baby Takes the Morning Train” and singing. Loudly. Tomorrow, I have resolved to clean. Because, here’s the thing, world. The gays are totally not as tidy as they are in the movies.

I will be posting a lot this week I think, as there are loads of plans ahead ALREADY. Tuesday morning I will go in for my interview to work at a day spa. I went there today and met everyone already. Totally gangster. Then I’m going to watch rehearsal for the experimental theatre that my bestie SMs. Shit is getting real.

Granted, I feel weirdly numb. Like it isn’t real yet. Like this is some crazy thing that I’ve been dreaming of doing for so long, that it couldn’t possibly have come to fruition. That I’ll suddenly wake up in my twin bed in 820sassy and come downstairs to see my roommates crocheting and watching Jeopardy. Alas.

My heart is still in Kentucky. It just hasn’t come over via FedEx yet.

T-Minus 5 Till Takeoff.

bananafistcakewalk — Mon, 21 May 2012 19:22:51 -0700

I have kept my iPod touch loaded with sweet jams for the past 2 years that will please any self-respecting lady in the scene shop. Today, my mission was to make it completely hipster friendly. I have added the following bands back into my playlists. Damn the man. I will love my weirdo mellow music and you will suck it.

-Bjork

-The Ditty Bops

-Zero 7

-Roisin Murphy

-Aimee Mann

-Tegan and Sara

-Sufjan Stevens

-Spoon

-Ray LaMontagne

-Mumford and Sons

-Kaki King

-Iron & Wine

-Imogen Heap

-Gotye (Totally mainstream. Not hipster anymore.)

-The Weepies

-Belle & Sebastian

-Fleet Foxes

-Foster the People

-Neutral Milk Hotel

-Vampire Weekend

-The Weakerthans

To say, “yeah, you’ve probably never heard of them” is a gross misstep. Everyone has heard of them. Hence why I’m not a hipster yet. TEACH ME, FUTURE GUARDIANS.

Also, through a bizarre turn of events, it seems as though I have a job interview as soon as I get to Portland. At a spa. So. Things might just start workin out for ol’ Softshoe. (Still working on my hipster nickname.)

I move in 5 days. I am not packed yet. I am highly emotional. Even more than usual. Yipes.

Opposite of Hoarders

bananafistcakewalk — Mon, 14 May 2012 18:17:57 -0700

Yes, I am packing everything I own 2 weeks before I need to leave. This is not only so I can be prepared, but also so I can go through everything I own. I need to do this for obvious reasons, but most importantly, to take inventory of all the things I own that will pass in Hipsterland, USA. Here are the things I have found in my possession that could prove to save me in a pinch:

-Plaid Fedora

-Gotye’s Album “Making Mirrors”

-Owl Necklace

-Rice Notebook paper

-Leggings

-Organic Chai Vanilla Body Lotion

-A Bag of Yarn

-A Copy of The Omnivore’s Dilemma

-A Beret

Just for organizations’ sake, here are the things I KNOW will not pass as “cool” or “ironic”:

-Hundreds of Tiny Plastic Dinosaurs

-Jager Shirts

-Dinosaur Lamp

-Basketball Shorts

-Dinosaur Slippers

-Horse-Racing Memorabilia of Any Kind

-Dinosaur Onesie

I guess you could say most of my anxiety is dinosaur-related.

T-MINUS 2 WEEKS.

Obama Is Soooo Gay For the Gays.

bananafistcakewalk — Wed, 09 May 2012 19:13:00 -0700

I have news: Gay people are people too.

……

I’ll let that sink in for a moment.

I’m swimming in joy for my future hipsterdom. Why? I am moving to a place where my vote will actually count. I will be among like-minded people who understand that basic human rights have nothing to do with who’s junk fits inside who’s. I will live in a place where love is all-encompassing and people can hold hands with whoever they want to without fear of any consequence, whether it be sneering or shooting.

I am proud of my president for doing what is right- standing up for the little guy. The constitution exists to protect human rights. And if there is anyone who needs standing up for, it’s the minority groups. If not, we’d be using it to make sure that white people were still allowed to live in suburbs and eat Doritos. Snoozeville.

The best part of this? Not only is he the first black president, he’s the first gay-friendly president. DOUBLE WHAMMY. Your history books won’t even be able to handle all this alternative lifestyle fierceness. I can’t wait for the first female president who has 3 legs and is a former stripper.