And The Madness Begins...

It's a dark and rainy Friday night over here. A couple of people wanted me to go out but I told them I was sick. Which is code for "I am in an emotionally fragile state and prefer to spend the evening watching episodes of 'The Middle' while eating stale pretzels."

Now that I think about it, I may choose to be in that very same emotionally fragile state tomorrow night too and have a quiet yet sophisticated New Year's Eve with myself and a plate of microwaved nachos. I've had several people approach me regarding my plans, but no one has actually invited me anywhere. In fact, people seem like they want me to organize their New Year's plans. And there is no party planned here at the art asylum, but people seem to think there should be one and that I should DJ it. I love being the go-to DJ girl and I'm glad that I have friends want to hang out with me on New Year's, but I just don't have the energy this year to spend hours DJing some drunken year-end bash or be the evening coordinator (and driver) for some over-priced, over-crowded night out.

Truth is, I've gotten myself so stressed out over my upcoming move that I've been socially shutting down over the past few days. My plan wasn't really coming together, so I went for my back-up option and told The Management I need to extend my notice until the beginning of February. They promptly sent me an email informing me that my room had already been rented out and I needed to vacate on the 11th originally planned.

Lesson learned: Don't light a fire under your butt unless you know for sure you can run fast enough.

So what's going to happen?

I'm not entirely sure.

Here's what I do know:

I'm moving my stuff back to my parents' house for right now. I've got a one-way plane ticket to Orlando, Florida. Plane leaves on the 11th. I have an aunt and uncle in Florida that I've seen approximately four times in my life but I remember them as being really nice and they've invited me to stay for awhile.

And after Florida? Location is still TBD.

Of course, I made the mistake of accidentally going public with this whole moving out thing before I was really ready to. I'm getting rid of a lot of stuff, so naturally I put a pile in the hall for people to dig through (keeping up with the tradition of Portland being a friendly free-pile city). I wanted the stuff to actually go away, so I went on Facebook and mentioned the pile on my status.

BAM! Just like that, the world put two-and-two together and began to ask me why, when, and where I am moving.

I realize these are all fair questions. But why is unnecessary, when is scary, and where is just plain unknown. Because I can say I'm going to Florida, but then people want to know what I'm going to do in Florida, if I'm going to move to Florida, am I coming back to Portland, where will I go after that, and do I have a place in mind, and what will become of my rock and roll career, and will I ever get a job or will I just spend my days bumming around the country on free flight vouchers I received after getting bumped from a flight that I didn't pay for to begin with because I was a radio contest winner?

But on top of feeling nervous and frantic, I am really quite excited about all of this. I mean, who knows where this trip is going to take me.

And Florida seems like a great place to start. Mostly because I've never been there, I know people there, and I've had palm trees on the brain ever since I watched Johnny Depp drunkenly stumble around in "The Rum Diary" (it was a mediocre film, but it inspired me to go somewhere warm).

So, bring on the new year. Unlike the Mayans, I have a good feeling about 2012.

Oh Hi, It's Just Me Again...

Forgive me, for I have sinned.

I ended my last post with a "To Be Continued" and then neglected the blogosphere for a week.

I think I was merely going to tell you a story about the day I kept getting unexpected visits from random people.

There's a college kid from the second floor who's a poetic genius. He had come to remind me to go to the writer's group that we're both part of. I wasn't really feeling awake enough to partake in any sort of intelligent writer's critique, but I pulled a hat over my messy hair, grabbed my laptop, and went down the hall to meet the group. I worked up the nerve to read a short script, listened to Lego Guy go on about how I'm "just not that funny," then went back to my room to take a shower.

Another knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I yell, emerging from the shower. There's a cartoonish noise from the other side of the door. I throw on some clothes and go to see who it is. I see that someone slipped a note under the door.

The note said this: "EAT. PEAR. WAFFLE. TWEAKED OUT ELVIS COSTELLO. ART."

Except it said Tweaked Out Elvis Costello's real name, of course. He's not really aware of the fact that he has that cute nickname on the Internet...

Anyway, I opened the door to find him scuttling down the hall. He informs me that he's making waffles in the restaurant downstairs and that I should come eat one.

I'm not one to pass up waffles, so I wandered downstairs and promptly ran into the guy that owns the restaurant. He asked me to play a set this Friday. I said "yes." BAM. Got myself a gig.

A gig that is sneaking up on me. Tomorrow is Friday.

And yesterday, I found out that I'm no longer the opener...I'm one of the headliners. So that intensified my pre-show freak-out a bit.

I called Ryan and he's going to come do a few songs with me I think. We'll see how that goes.

Sometimes, I don't know why I insist on performing. The anxiety that happens in the 48 hour period before I get onstage is ridiculous. You better believe I'm a little ball of nerves right now.

Anyway, it's time to rock and roll, kids. Over and out.

(More coherent post to come later, I promise.)

And remember - you are not hardcore unless you live hardcore!

A Typical Lauren Friday Night...

Tonight's progression:

1. Wear new shoes. Look hawt. Feel good about self.

2. Forget to make plans with anyone.

3. Go into the kitchen to cook something.

4. Make dinner with The Theater Lover.

5. Meet an intriguing young man while baking pumpkin spice bread.

6. Eat yellow squash enchiladas with a bunch of my neighbors.

7. Drink a toast to ourselves and find comfort in the fact that we are a bunch of misunderstood artists who can really understand each other.

8. Talk about ridiculous commune drama that is neither funny nor interesting enough to write down.

9. Talk about The Proletariat vs. The Bourgeoisie, The Sharks vs. The Jets, Artists vs. The World.

10. Feel inspired.

11. Do the dishes.

12. Realize that everyone else is really tired and is going to bed at 10.

13. Lurk around the kitchen in hopes that someone interesting will come around.

14. Go back to my room and contemplate calling Tweaked Out Elvis Costello.

15. Mentally replay that last few interactions I've had with Tweaked Out Elvis Costello and decide that I'm not in the mood to deal with him tonight.

16. Call the bandmate to figure out band practice.

17. Listen to the phone ring for a long time.

18. Hang up.

19. Change into sweatpants.

20. Think about watching a movie.

21. Decide not to watch a movie.

22. Notice that the trash is disgusting.

23. Think about taking out the trash.

24. Look out the window, see that it's a little rainy, and vow to take out the trash first thing in the morning.

25. Play my keyboard.

26. Become aware of the fact that the terrible music from next door/outside/where-ever has started again.

27. Write the world's most pathetic blog post containing all the mundane details of the evening.

28. Go to bed???

Here's to strange Friday nights in the commune.

Goodnight, amigos.

Friday Friday

Bleck. I feel as though my entire throat is inflamed in rebellion against that bad lemonade I drank last night. I'm just going to call it psychosomatic and move on with my life.

Besides, life is good today. It's a sunny Friday. I am done with classes for the weekend and hanging around my apartment in my scuzzy Greenday t-shirt (a shirt I still insist on wearing even though I know it looks better on Ryan...).

Fridays get my thumbs-up of approval. Not sad to see this week come to an end.

Wrote a new song a couple of nights ago while I was attempting to mentally process the weirdness of the world. I really don't know if it's any good. It's a bit of a departure from my normal whimsical style (I'll be back to writing songs about zombies and icebergs soon, I am sure). I'm always nervous to post songs like this for fear that they are too cheesy or just plain suck. But I am trying hard to overcome these standard issue neurotic insecurities of a songwriter, so I took a quick recording of it on my iphone when I was practicing this morning. It's a terrible recording and the song is still fresh out of the notebook so it's a bit rough.

See? It's barely legible, and that big blank spot is where the second verse will go if I ever feel like writing one (I'm infamous for cheating and just recycling the first verse instead of writing a second...hey, words are hard for me - I'm more of a music and melody girl).

Anyway, now that I've given you two paragraphs worth of disclaimers, you can hear the song now. It's just audio. Maybe I'll be more sophisticated next time and add video as well, but I was feeling camera shy this morning.

I would love to hear what you think. The sound of Internet crickets is always terribly unnerving.

On a side note, if you're just now tuning into all this madness, you should check out this entry.

It's all about how you can get involved with our summer tour by joining our street team. There's a great video over there you might want to watch. Also included in this entry is information on how you can date Ryan. Check it totally out, yo.

I'm gonna go do whatever it is I do on Fridays. Peace and trash rock. Over and out.

Happy Friday!

Here's a song we wrote a few months ago. It's about our favourite topic - the end of the world! Enjoy. :D



The world better not end before this rock tour adventure goes down. That's all I have to say.

On a completely unrelated note, Amanda Palmer tickets go on sale tomorrow! Gah, I am such a fan girl. But the idea of seeing her perform live seriously makes me giddy.

In other news, I am still sick. I slept all morning and will now attempt to eat ramen noodles. Life is so exciting today.