Cheers, Darlin'

Damien Rice, oh baby... Oh baby.

Apologies for my hiatus, however, I'm sad to say that it might continue to be stretched out. With arena scheduling tomorrow and my ongoing struggle to find pants that fit right (geez, clothing industry, don't model cardboard, please), I am going to be fairly preoccupied until school starts.


Seeya then, blogger buddies, be expecting the massive "ew it's a whorefest with these stupid freshman sluts" rant.
Exciting!

Double the Decemberists, Double the Fun

This should've been posted WEEKS ago. Urgh, I suck.

Summer Camp!

Though it took an hour later than originally planned to drag ourselves out of the house, we finally got on the road for our 2-3 hour venture to Bend for Summer Camp! The drive was relatively nice. . . Mountain-y, forest-y and eventually turned into a midpoint between green-Oregon and desert-Oregon. While checking in to our hotel, I called the Amphitheater to pester them one last time about a press pass they never got back to me about. They connected me to the stage manager, "Big John", where he explained to me that because tour managers weren't involved with the concert, there was no publicity allowed. Fair enough. We ran down to a market, picked up a french roll, garlic spread, disposable camera and tons and tons of bottled Fiji water then headed for the concert.

I had all the water in my infamous "the lift that will never let you down" bag, with a cartoon picture of a woman in a push-up bra. It was after ten minutes of walking and schlepping around blankets and junk in 100 degree weather when we saw the sign reading "no outside food or beverages." At Les Schwab Amphitheater, we allow nothing, not even breathing!. . . So after safely storing everything back into the trunk of my car, we went inside the venue.

Viva Voce, a two person band, kicked off the show. I had heard only a few of their songs before seeing them live and their set went fairly quick and smoothly. I was highly impressed with the drummer. At different points of their set, he had managed to play piano, kazoo and acoustic guitar all along with his drums. Entertaining!

While Pedro the Lion was setting up, I went to go and buy overpriced water bottles and after waiting in line for nearly 15 minutes, to my dismay, they HAD no water. Most likely because at Les Schwab Amphitheater, they want you to be as UNcomfortable as possible.

Pedro the Lion zoomed thru their 30 minutes. Because they were in such a hurry, the two man band came off as very cold and not in to the audience, however, they did play Criticism as Inspiration and Big Trucks, which made it better.

It was about this time where I took notice to how many cameras were flashing off... Which then got me noticing all of the press passes. Naturally I was upset and frustrated with their obvious lack of communication with everyone working there. Let's hope that they get this sorted out since they're wanting this Summer Camp thing to become an annual event...

Then came the reason we drove there, the Decemberists. They opened with a new song, which I found weird, usually it's a song people would know already, and to be honest, it sucked. Then, rather than going on to something recognizeable, they continued to play new things. And by new things, I mean "let's sound like we're in a high school garage band." It was so disappointing! Joann and I slumped further and further down onto our blankets until we heard the catchy Infanta drums.

Death Cab for Cutie came onstage and so did the mosquitoes. We stayed for a few songs, unimpressed and giggling at how overrated they are and then took off.

Decemberists at the Bite!

And what's cuter than an 8 year old with a speech impediment singing Decemberists songs? Just about nothing. Sam and I went to pick Colin up around 3ish and drove a surprisingly quick drive to the Waterfront Park in Portland. So pretty there! Colin immediately started his "let's make Katy laugh until she swears she'll pee her pants" trip when we got out of the car, and continued for the whole night.

We're at the sidewalk crosslight to get to the park when Sam asks Colin if his name is Colon. Colin nudged me, and corrected him. "Well where's Colon?" Sam asked, and everyone around us kind of chuckled. "Riiiiight there!" And he pointed to his tush. Fun!

Anyways, it was only $5 to get in, and all the profit goes to Special Olympics.. Sam got in free, rad! We sat in the 3rd row and a band from Portland called The Kingdom took stage. They were a mix between Coheed and Cambria and Hot Hot Heat, or something like that. The lead singer made me laugh, he looked like a middle-aged man who just got off of the couch, crumbs included.

Then some really dull guy came on. In fact, he was so dull that I don't even remember his (most likely dull) name. Pat somethingorother. He's up there with his guitar and fake drum stomp things and a harmonica and he looks strung out on heroin and his songs were so depressing, monotone and crap. I was convinced my ears were bleeding. But then, during the middle of his set, I nudged Colin after spotting the nerdiest nerd at this nerd festival. His profile looked like Colin Meloy's except his glasses were five times better. He had shorts up past his navel, a fanny pack, a cigar in his mouth and shirt tucked in. He stood up on the front row bench, placed his hand on his side and the other over his eyes, threw his head back and pondered. Colin yelled while pointing "HARK! It's a laaaand pirate!"

Yes!

Finally the Decemberists got on stage. Sam was elated. During their set-up, I made friends with an older couple sitting in front of us. A VERY tall grey-haired guy and his short, frumpy wife. There were these teen-bop girls that kept annoyingly walking inbetween the rows, and when the last girl walked by, I whispered to Sam "Punch her!" Apparantly the wife of the couple thought it was hilarious and began talking about how much she LOOOOVED the Decemberists. Part of me was happy. The other part was in disbelief that that will, no doubt, be me in twenty years.

And then they played and of course sounded wonderful. I was much more impressed from the start with their set. They got to "On the Bus Mall" and ended up pausing after Colin Meloy sings "At the Waterfront Park" due to the crowd cheering. It was cute. Colin Meloy talked about how much he loved Portland and loved being home.

Then they played their so-called last song which was "I was Meant for the Stage" and during the end they proceeded to break-the-shit out of their instruments. Sam was upset they didn't play the Mariner's Revenge, but of course, they shortly returned. This is where the fun starts. Colin Meloy had us practice screaming like we're being swallowed by a whale, and then they started the song. Sam's up on the bleachers dancing around, the older lady in front of me is dancing around, I look back and EVERYONE'S dancing around to the sweet accordian riff (yeah!). Right before we get to the swallowed by a whale part, the crowd started screaming. I looked back and someone set loose this GIANT blue ball (snickers) that was over a booth, by popping the milk jugs. So the Decemberists end up laughing because the crowd's moving this giant blue thing that ironically looks somewhat like a whale towards them. Ohhh it was fun. This is a long paragraph.

That sums up the Decemberists part. A majority of the crowd was there for the Violent Femmes but because of the drive and the lateness, we had to leave to get back home at a decent hour. And who would of thought leaving would be so hard? We spent a good thirty minutes surfing thru drunk people and/or standing completely still. Colin started screaming he was having contractions which led me to believe he had Moses-like skills, until people realized who was screaming it.

Nevertheless, Decemberists at a less expensive cost, closer venue and with less bands is much more preferrable than a complete load of Les Schwab crock.

Phew.

It's Hereditary!

Clearly.

Please Please Please

And thus it begins. The Scandi parade is most likely marching down 6th St, blocking off traffic. I finally met the other interns at Tri County yesterday when we had a meeting about coverage of the festival. How damaging, you ask? Well I'm essentially living between 10th and 4th st for the rest of today after I go to the bank and get a new lens, I'll most likely be there tomorrow during the day before heading off to the Bite of Oregon with Colin and Sam, and somehow, I managed to talk my way out of the busiest days of the four, Saturday and Sunday. Saturday's my mom's 30th class reunion and Sunday I'm (hopefully) going to Newport to spend all day on the sand either with Diana and her family, or completely alone (!!!).

Okay, let's cut down to the point here. I wrote this entry to yell at Sabrina for not being alive the past few days. Hello? Where are youuu? And this is an invitation to walk around downtown with me, call my cell (please please please).

On a slightly random note, I found myself experiencing horrible fits of senioritis yesterday after listening to girls complain about weight, being over-zealous-y healthy and talking about boys. Now, keep in mind that I have been ready to get out of high school before I was even a freshman, and for it to worsen is shocking to me. School hasn't even started yet! Sigh. However, I am, for the most part, looking forward for it to start. Partially because the sooner it starts, the sooner I'm finished, but it's mainly because the classes I'm enrolled in are really going to offer me something because I'm motivated and looking forward to actually having a class that'll grab my attention.

And on another slightly random note, I cannot stop listening to the Final Fantasy cd I ordered a couple weeks ago. Owen Pallett, you're a god!

Check Out My New Gear!

The camera's nice. One of the lenses that came with it is indeed a monster. Just from walking around with it, the reactions I get are highly entertaining.

Summer camp was relatively fun. Of course I'll go more in depth when I'm not so out of it. We came home on Sunday and found out my great grandmother had another stroke (I guess that makes five?) so we spent all day Sunday with her at the hospital. I feel so bad for her and my great aunts right now. They had thought she would pass immediately and because she can't swallow anything, they aren't feeding her. That has to be possibly the worst decision any daughter has to make for her mother's own good. So she'll end going probably this week and this will make funeral #5 for this year. Geez.

Other than that, I've been relatively drawn away from socializing for the past few days. I worked today with a client named Brian whose mom started the company and he was insanely intriguing. Rather than talking, he'd answer questions with facial gestures. I love it! But now my hands are hurty and I'm very tired due to lack of sleepage, but all is well!

The wonderful, joyful (. . .) Scandinavian Festival* is coming up on Thursday and as much as I'd like to avoid it, I've been recruited to cover a decent amount of TriCounty's photography. Luckily, I've managed to get out of Friday evening and Saturday coverageness and Sunday's still up in the air(sigh!). I'm not sure why they can't print out last year's issue and use it again because it's been the same every year.

*Yes I know just about everyone in the pictures!

Rise and Shine, Darling

Uuuuuggggghhhhhhhhhh.
While I'm pulling weeds and sifting the ground up, my brother will be at Crater Lake with his friends, splashing and relaxing away. I really don't feel like working today.


|||Now Playing: M. Ward - "Poor Boy, Minor Key"|||

Celluliteyness

I should've made this post weeks ago.

I rediscovered our 20 lbs of Dove Firming Supplies hoarded away in my mother's girly-fufu-hairsupply-makeup-dove cabinet in her bathroom. Seeing a few rows of the same exact lotion bottle lined up one after the other not only provided me with a nice chuckle, but also reminded me how my mom had put it to the test (and how the test turned out.)

Stalkers, I bring you the femmes of the Trotter resident's first( and probably only ). . .

"FIRM THIS, DOVE!" challenge.

The instructions on the bottle say to rub in circular motions on cellulitey regions, so my clever mother chose her butt and thighs as the contestants to go under attack. Pushing aside the fact that that was most likely a little more information anyone was willing to hear, think or read about, her results were, yes indeed, successful. I, however, figured it out the hard way when we were outside Downtown Corvallis. She hiked up her shorts, struck a Superwoman-esque pose and yelped "I'm FIIIIIRM!". . .

And of course, yours truly was shaking her head throughout the duration of the challenge (and the very-well declared results), so now, the only logical next step would be to provide you with my very own interpretation of the firming process.

Alright, it's fairly self explanatory as to why a lotion that claims to rid a body of celluliteyness would attract middle-aged women (though I'm still hooked on the reason being that the bottle has "firm" and "cream" written on it). And when you really think about it, for as much circular rubbing these over-zealous women will be achieving in one day, something is bound to change. Physically, or mentally. Done!

Moving on to things that are clearly less important. Here, have a picture.

On Saturday, my brother and I were unwillingly tugged to my cousin Nicole's wedding. Sure, it sounds a bit cold, but the only memory I really have of spending time with Nicole was when I was into Barbies and Polly Pockets. Blah blah, so the actual vow part of the schpeel was over in 5, 10 minutes because we were all seated in the insane hot.

They decided to do some ancient Native American ritual done at weddings where they had 15-20 butterflies locked up in a box, which they (attempted to) release and have them fly away, signifying a long lasting marriage. Seven of them died and one flew in to their candle.

Once convincing ourselves it was time to take off, we unpleasantly remembered the reception following afterwards. The reception was alright, I suppose, but neither myself, my brother or my dad were expecting to be there for five hours. I spent the whole time swinging on a padded wooded swinging bench while fanning myself and the bees away.



|||Now Playing : Death From Above 1979 - "Sexy Results"|||