denver toastmasters 2005
by Willow
You thought ska was dead.
I am here to tell you it is alive.
You thought funk was dead.
I am here to tell you, funk is not dead.
You thought hip hop was dead.
I am here to say, it's not.
You thought Toastmasters was a one hit wonder.
You were sorely mistaken.
That's right. My Denver friends Stephen and Jamie (plus lots of other friends at different times) are in a hip hop group called the Flobots, and they set up a show in honor of all of us out-of-towners. I told them about my Toastmasters routine, and they gave me part of their set to do my weird thing. This was after the cute ska band and the cute funk band (whose leader, Andy, I also know real well.) I decided to go with a crowd-pleaser, and so I toasted the city of Denver, as if it were a person. As in, "remember Denver, remember when we were kids? And we took swimming lessons at Congress Park? And remember how that lady spray painted flamingos on all of the dumpsters in town?" And I told Denver what I loved about her- her brick, her neon, her cowboys, her hobos. I also talked about the music that makes me think of Denver- songs that played over and over at our awesome New Years parties. And of course Flobots songs from back in the day. And then I rapped. Me. Willow. I rapped the lyrics to songs Jamie wrote when he was 19. And people cheered. Oh my god. It was the amazing experience. When I got off the stage, strangers hugged me. Friends I hadn't seen in 5, 10, 12 years told me they loved it, and John Shoe told me that it brought a tear to his eye.
This trip home was the best I had in years. The night before I left, as I lay in bed, I had this painful desire to stop time, to silence the clock. I wanted to get out of bed and go out into the suspended city and just look at it. For as long as I liked. I wanted to gaze at the streets and friends, the mountains and suburbs until I was filled with them. Instead I fell asleep, and in the morning I flew home to Portland. The city that is my home. And where I am very, very happy.
But I miss Denver.
PS, check out the open letter to my crush that was written by some hilarious Denver friends. You can find it here.
Posted on December 30, 2005 | Comments (2)
holiday stupor
by Willow
If I were in Ireland I would still be celebrating. Over there the 26th is known as St Steven's Day, and there is lots of eating and drinking and staying home from work. It's called Boxing Day in England. Here in Denver it's called I Feel Sorta Gross Day. And I am observing it by drinking tea in my favorite bookstore, The Tattered Cover, which thankfully has wi-fi. And I am semi-fasting after my huge, delicious Christmas dinner at Liz's house. My mom, step-dad and I go there every year, and Liz and I make a lot of gracious small talk before sneaking off to catch up on gossip and old jokes. It's real fun.
Christmas Eve in Silver Plume was fantastic. The service was mellow and touching, with lot's of talk about keeping peace in your heart as a first step to creating peace on earth. There was singing and amped up kids running up and down the church while parents laughed instead of scolded. For a Jewish girl who spends little time thinking about Jesus Christ, I was impressed by the atmosphere of love and celebration, and the decidedly nonjudgmental vibe.
After service we went to Grumpy's for egg nog and cheer. Most of the older folks headed home early, so in the end it was me and my old townie friends shooting pool and talking about old times. It had probably been about eight years since we were all together- Casey the terrible driver who is now an avid line dancer; Christian, the snowboarder/fashion designer who used to intimidate me with his uninhibited honesty; his brother Nick, who was my first boyfriend at ages 9, 12, and 13; Jessica, who adopted me as her little sister when I was young; Hailey, who I adopted as MY little sister when SHE was young; and their assorted partners and friends who were braving a Silver Plume Christmas.
Another Plumie of my generation was there also, though I can't say that I would count him as a friend. Sean, who I used to think (age 14) had a "mysterious darkness," but now I would call it a "taunting meanness." He asked how I was doing, and I told him that I couldn't be happier. He replied, "enjoy it while it lasts. You have no idea what's coming." What is the implication there? That I am naive, or somehow sheltered, or worse, delusional? Ugh! It pisses me off that someone I haven't seen in years could make such asshole assumptions. It awards no credit for the smart, conscious choices I have made in my life, or the community of friends I have sought and maintained. What a grinch. I didn't let him harsh my vibe though. I told him that he was mistaken, and my life just keeps getting better. And I turned back to my old friends for laughing and friendlier teases. Dick!
Cryptic Crush Update:
(dandily buried at the bottom of a semi-boring entry)
So, I finally had a candid talk with my crush about crushes. It was a great relief to get it all out it the open, though I don't anticipate any changes in the near future. I'd like to write more about this, but my cyber life has become so entangled with my real life that blogging about it is sort of a mine field. Not wanting to embarrass the crush, or add fodder to gossip or whatever. Sigh. Maybe I will start a sneaky blog just for crush talk and embarrassing moments. Though I think think that's how perfect heart began!
Posted on December 26, 2005 | Comments (1)
I'm dreaming of a...
by Willow
Whenever I visit Silver Plume I think to myself, "Does this place really EXIST?!?" and, "Did I actually spend a good bit of my childhood HERE?!?" It's absolutely amazing. Silver Plume is an old mining town about ten miles from the Continental Divide (which is also an amazing phenomenon). Back during the silver boom in the late 1800's, thousands of minors filled the tiny valley, out to make their fortune. Now Silver Plume is the home to just 200 souls, and no-one works the mines. I grew up climbing around the mine tailings with the other kids in town, and cruising up and down the dirt roads on our mountain bikes. We played a lot of baseball in the summer, and did a lot of sledding in the winter. Our parents drank at the Plume Saloon, and when that place went under, Grumpy's Roadhouse soon replaced it. We would run around the bar, annoying the adults, drinking Shirley Temples with extra cherries.
Back then I knew every person and every pet in town. I still do, for the most part. When I give tours to Denver friends, I have to stop myself from telling them who lives in each house we pass. It's sort of boring information for visitors, I think. But I pride myself on knowing anyway.
This is the first time since 1991 that my dad has been in America for Christmas. He generally spends the winter months in Antarctica teaching cold weather survival to scientists. But he didn't go down this year, and I'm so glad. Silver Plume is full of traditions, and "midnight mass" on Christmas Eve is one of them. It starts at 10pm, after drinks at Troy and Cassandra's house (they are Mennonites). It's a funky service, with lots of singing and laughing, but also warm messages and wishes for peace. After it's all done, the town heads to Grumpy's for some holiday cheer. There will be lots of guitars, fiddles, penny whistles, and maybe a banjo or two.
Doesn't this all sound totally fake? Silver Plume is like a time capsule, or a a weird novel that requires the ultimate suspension of disbelief. But it's real! I'm here, living it right now! And it's cold! And windy! Pipes are frozen, and my dad set up a little bed in the kitchen because it's the warmest room in his house. And I slept there last night! It happened! I'm telling the truth! I wish you could all come here, come see. Check out my my flickr page for a little glimpse, anyway.
Merry Christmas, wherever you are, past, present, or future.
Posted on December 24, 2005 | Comments (5)
The City That Is A Mile High
by Willow
My flight landed, and by the time I turned on my phone there were already two messages from my mom telling me to meet her at the fountain. Which is where I always meet her. The airport was full of strollers and slow-walkers, and when I finally emerged from the underground terminal train, there was my mom, right in front of all of the other moms and sons and brothers-in-law waiting for their people. My mom, waving madly and grinning, and I thought, "This lady loves me so much!!" And I grinned and waved madly back, and we went straight to the salon so I could get a haircut, and then lunch, and some resting and relaxing before dinner and a sneak preview of "The Producers," the film turned play turned movie again. Moms are awesome.
As soon as the movie ended I booked it to Heather's folks' house to pick her up. She was headed back to the East Coast the next day, and I desperately needed some solid girl-on-girl action. Luckily it wad Tough Love Tuesday at the PS Lounge, an unofficial weekly gathering that has been happening since before I got my fake ID and started hitting the bars back in '99 or whatever. It was started by Heather's brother, Caleb, and his friends who are older and way cooler than we are. A lot of them were back in town too, so the PS was super-festive. I shamelessly monopolized Heather's attention, getting her all caught up on Toastmasters and crushes and life in the 1st Grade. And she told me about fun trips to New York to see great shows, and the cold, cold, cold weather in Western Massachusetts, which is where she lives now with her husband. The altitude + 1 gin and tonic + 1 free shot + 1 Tom Collins = I was silly drunk, which was cool, because so was everyone else.
The PS Lounge is awesome. It's owned by a Greek man named Pete, also know as Greek Pete. Not to be mistaken with the other two Greek Pete's that own bars and restaurants in Denver. I used to fill in shifts at the PS, cocktailing and tending bar, and Pete would always put his arm around me and offer to take me to Greece with him one day. Even though I hadn't seen him in a year or more, and I'm pretty sure he no longer remembers my name, he still told me how beautiful I looked, and insisted that I had lost weight. I told him I was sad I'd missed his big Christmas party this year, to which he responded, "You miss the party? I make you a party right now. Rachel, give this beautiful girl and all her friends a drink on me. Drinks on Pete! We make a party for you!" This was in addition to the round of shots that Pete always sends to the entire bar, and the roses that he gives to all of the ladies every night. That's right- every lady gets a rose. Every night. And a free shot. I have been to many, many bars in my life. The PS will always be my favorite.
Finally, after last call, after all the other customers were gone, after all the lights were turned off, we said goodbye to Pete. Heather, Caleb, Caleb's girlfriend Jen, and I were all starving, so we did Taco Bell drive-thru and talked SNL until we were sober again. It was a great night.
Posted on December 22, 2005 | Comments (3)
PDX Blizzard 2005 Live Blog Continued!!!!
by Willow
8:16pm
I have resigned myself to the fact that no one is going to pull up to my curb with pizza in hand to whisk me away to a hot party with dancing and booze and movies and sleeping over. Sigh. What kind of snowstorm is this?
I've decided to just roll with the cabin fever and take care of some business, namely:
* Eating frozen pizza
* Drinking wine
* Playing "squeeze monster" with the twins (this is not a gross game, despite the semi-gross title)
* Showering
* Grooming "personal area"
* Reading old New Yorkers
* Ordering next semester's books online
* Working on mix tape for my Internet friend, Allison
* Live blogging
Being snowed in. Not so bad.
9:48pm
Okay. I have just been informed that I am live blogging all wrong. Whoops! Apparently what I am doing is actually "making a lot of posts." To truly live blog I must keep updating one entry. So that is what I am doing. I am now at Steve's, after braving the 6 blocks of not too icy ice. I'm getting caught up on SNL and then we are going to watch Magnolia, or some other such epic. Party!
Hey, check out this nice thing Daniel did for me!
12:28am
We just watched Shaun of the Dead. Great zombie movie! Steve gave it 3 stars. For a zombie pic? I give it 4. I think I'm about done live blogging now. I'm tired and it's time to brave the cold and return to my little nest. I hope that it all clears up tomorrow- I have to go to the chiropractor at 2. And I fly home on Tuesday, so I need the runways all cleared and ready for me. Okay, God? Thanks. Live blizzard blog 2005, out.
Posted on December 19, 2005 | Comments (7)
Live blogging the snow
by Willow
Well, it is snowing in PDX. Very pretty, very icy. Here is a photo Jona took:
I will continue to live blog this event until I become bored. I am actually sort of bored already. I am not one to post many links to local news stations and stuff. So maybe live blogging is not for me. Maybe I should write some poetry about snow and post that. What do you do when you live blog? I have no answers.
Posted on December 18, 2005 | Comments (0)
here we come around again
by Willow
I lost my Dear Nora CD a few months ago, and have been really bummed about it. Mountain Rock. I need it! Steve burned me a copy a couple of days ago, and I have been listening to it pretty much nonstop since. Oh God! I love it so much! I want to start a Dear Nora cover band called Dear Katy. Every song is beautiful and perfect. Listening to it brings back the most bittersweet memories of living in Ireland and missing Jake so viscerally. He came to visit me there and we rented a 4 Runner and drove all over the country singing along. It was really fun. There were many things wrong with our relationship, and there were so many times when we just didn't get each other at all. But whenever we were on the road together singing Dear Nora or Grateful Dead or Bruce Springsteen songs, we were such a tight couple. We made each other laugh.
I sent him a Christmas card last week. I haven't talked to him since August when he bailed at the last minute on a trip to Portland to talk about getting back together. I think he thinks I have hard feelings about that, but really I don't. I think of him with utter fondness, and I'm thankful for the good times and the tough times. I've been staring at this screen for the last 10 minutes, trying to figure out how to explain why I am so thankful. I think mostly it's because it was all so real, and we tried so hard. And I know that whoever comes next I'll be a really good partner to, because Jake taught me how. So yeah, I'm not mad or hurt. Instead I'm grateful, (and occasionally wistful) and I'm really ready to be his friend. So I sent him a card, and hopefully he'll see through my abrupt contact and awkward phrasing and feel ready to be friends with me too. I miss him.
(This is the kind of entry that makes me really nervous, and I get tempted to delete it right away. But the laws of perfect heart insist that I post every embarrassing/earnest thing that pops into my brain, so I force myself to let it stand. Masochistic? Maybe.)
Posted on December 18, 2005 | Comments (0)
Revels
by Willow
Thursday night was the big holiday extravaganza that my school produces every year. This is not the swaying-on-the-risers-while-singing-Jingle-Bells po-dunk concert that you and I might have participated in many moons ago. Rather it is a 20+ song multicultural bonanza, involving dancing children, singing children, violin playing children, marimba playing children, drumming kids, signing kids, kids singing in French, Spanish, Japanese, and Arabic, kids fighting a dragon, and kids making star patterns with swords. It is the Lower School event of the year. Regular classes essentially come to a halt for the 3 weeks leading up to Revels, and in the last few days the music teacher had my little 1st Graders in daily two hour rehearsals. Deep.
But all of the hard work pays off, the show is amazing. Steve came and watched, and I was so happy and proud to have a good friend see my wonderful students in action. As soon as the lights went down and the 5th Graders began their welcome song I started weeping. I was just so impressed by the whole student body. I spent the whole evening whispering furtively to Steve, "Look, there's Ryan! He's the one who makes fairy houses on the playground every recess! He's singing so loud!" And stuff like that.
I didn't have time to go home before the concert, so I wore a semi-nice outfit to school and applied some make-up in the bathroom while a 4th Grader brushed her hair beside me. I look way prettier when I wear make-up, but I am to lazy to put it on every day. I was made keenly aware of the effect of my efforts, as every single one of my students told me how "different" I looked. "Willow! You look really different right now." "Willow, you are wearing a LOT of lipstick!" After 4 or 5 lipstick comments I wiped most of it off, but even then it didn't stop. Even teachers and parents remarked on how I "clean up nice!" Very odd feeling, having my face talked about so much.
When I lived in New York I wore make-up when I went out sometimes, but almost never during the day. I just "couldn't be bothered," as the Irish would say. No one would ever look at me when I was out and about sans make-up. I generally feel like a pretty girl when I am in Portland or Denver or Tacoma or whatever. but in New York I mostly felt invisible. Sometimes it was a bummer, like if I saw a cute boy on the subway and I wanted to wink at him, but he wouldn't make eye contact with me because of my big coat, big purse, Duane Reade bag with box of tampons clearly visible through the flimsy plastic, frizzy hair because New York does that to me, and probably a runny nose. Gross. I wouldn't make eye contact with me either. So sometimes I felt bad about the invisibility. But mostly I felt cool, like I had a secret. In fact, that's how my alter-ego, "Miss Nancy Novak" was born. Now she is a sassy girl-about-town, but originally she was my mousy, slightly frazzled, relatively plain hanging-out-at the library identity. When I was walking around my Upper East Side neighborhood, avoiding piles of miniature poodle poop and getting bumped by women in fur coats, or waiting on a table of drunk, sleazy tax attorneys, I would make myself laugh by thinking, "God! I am so much prettier than I look right now!" Such a funny idea- being prettier than you look. I spent a lot of time by myself when I lived there because I worked nights at the bar, so I would go to matinees alone, or read in Central Park if it was warm, or order a sandwich from the corner deli and have it delivered to my apartment if it was too cold. And I would entertain myself by thinking about how all of the people I talked to or passed on the street were completely unaware of my superhero self. Nothing about the way I looked or acted indicated that I was Wonder Willow- smart, brave, funny and nice. Instead I was anonymous and forgettable. And that can be really lonely, and really dangerous. There's a risk of letting Wonder Willow go, and being Nancy Novak all the time, or rather, believing that you are only Nancy, and never Wonder. I think I left New York because it got too hard for me to keep those two identities going. Moving to friendlier, mellower cities (Dublin and now PDX) allowed me to chip away the wall between my selves. Now I am exactly myself all the time- with friends, at work, at school, with strangers. It can be fun to have a secret, but keeping it takes a lot of work. A big part of Perfect Heart is to unburden myself of secrets, to not keep any of myself hidden. And good lord, it is a relief.
Posted on December 17, 2005 | Comments (3)
Hurricanes and Other Powerful Forces
by Willow
The other day I ran into my friend Azmo, a cool dude who works with my roommate. Azmo is from New Orleans, and his parents and most of the rest of his family still live there. They lost their business in the hurricane, but their houses remained relatively in tact, and no one came to major harm, praise god. Still, they are citizens of New Orleans, and Azmo is an ex-pat, and while the rest of the country has turned attention to other, more recent tragedies and scandals, they are still in mourning for their beautiful, fallen city. Azmo just visited there to help his family rebuild, and he took some pretty amazing photos. I pressured him into setting up a flickr account, which he did, and you should check it out here. There are only a few up right now, but he showed me tons that made me want to lie down on the floor, and he said that none of them really captured the enormity of the devastation. I have no idea how to process loss on this scale, it just sort of sits in me, all crammed against tsunamis and earthquakes and environmental protection legislation repeals, and arrogant corruption and, and and... And it all lives in just that place that makes it sort of hard to breathe sometimes, like I have to gasp for air. And other times it just feels heavy, and then other times I almost forget, which is a relief, but then I feel guilty and then it's heaviness and gasping all over again!
All of this is just a way of saying I love Azmo, and I wish I could do more for him and his family and neighbors than just blog about them and get all emo.
Posted on December 13, 2005 | Comments (2)
I have the kissing disease!
by Willow
Well, I thought I did. But it turns out I just have a bad flu. Remember those head lumps I described last entry? Well, they were actually swollen lymphnodes, which is the major symptom of Mono. The kissing disease!!! I went home sick on Wednesday, stayed home on Thursday, and was sent home on Friday (very firmly). I went to the doctor, who was fairly certain I had the Mono, and took blood tests accordingly. But it was Friday afternoon, and the blood testers decided to head out early, which meant that I had to wait 24 hours for the results. 24 hours where I was convinced I had Mono. But then my doctor called and said that the results were negative, and I'm just normal sick, not special sick. But I am still being teased mercilessly by Jona, Steve and especially Mike about kissing diseased people, despite the fact that I have not kissed anyone in a fairly long time. (I mean really kissed someone.) No kisses = No Mono!
Here are some links I think you will enjoy:
Mike's pictures from Jona's show including a shot of me toasting,
Mike's pictures from our second date
The best description of Portland I've ever read,
The coolest party of all time, I really, really, really wish I could have been there.
Posted on December 10, 2005 | Comments (3)
I may be growing horns.
by Willow
If you were to draw a straight line between my ears, across the back or my head (okay, maybe this is technically an arch) today, you would find on it two weird, painful lumps. The lump on the left also had a lump friend living an inch below it. Three lumps. On my head. What are they?? I did not get hit by anything (aside from Steve's cdll phone, but that was 2 weeks ago, and it hit my face.) I do not have a history of cysts, and they do not feel like the head-cysts an ex-boyfriend of mine had. They feel like lumps. Or more exactly, bumps. And as I mentioned, they hurt. "Tender to the touch," if you will, but also sortof hurty in general. Are there glands back there? Could I be catching the (avian) flu? Or could the lumps be a byproduct of the neckache that plauged me for much of last week? Or could I possibly have three brain tumors? My math mentor (don't ask) suggested that they are tension nodes, or something. I am going to the chiropractor on Friday, so hopefully I will live until then.
Have I mentioned lately that I adore my students? I adore my students. I love the awkward ones, and the popular ones, and the loud ones and the quiet ones. I love their long stories about their pets, and the way they let highly sensitive information about their families slip out because they are only 6 and don't know better. I love that they buy me as a teacher, and trust me when I tell them to close their eyes before I read them a poem. (I am teaching a unit on poetry.) And on days like today, when I inadvertantly rush them and nit-pick at the same time, they don't hold it against me. They are nice guys. Today, my pet (don't tell the other kids!) brought me a box of chocolates for the holidays. I just about squeezed the life out of that boy! Goddamn, I love my students.
I was about to post pics from date #2, but I have to go meet Mike (and chaperones Steve, Rebecca, and Fiona) at the Veggie Chinese House RIGHT NOW. Next time, Gadget, next time.
Posted on December 6, 2005 | Comments (9)
burning questions, and date #2
by Willow
Here are some wonderings:
* Is anyone else concerned about Jane magazine's sudden helm-change? Why did Jane Pratt leave? Why didn't she give us notice, or a goodbye? Was she forced out? Am I being a jerk because I think her replacement, Brandon Whatever, is totally square? Is my paranoia warranted, or am I just haunted by the fate of Sassy, oh those long years ago. Is Jane going to fold? Or worse, become a Marie Claire JV mag? Anyone in publishing want to shed some light?
* Am I the only lady who, when choosing a stall in a public bathroom, tries to use the power of reason to determine which is the least used? I take note of the stall I would automatically head for, and then use the opposite one. Do other ladies do that? What are your stall selecting strategies, girls?
* Why do I drive my car so much? Every week when I fill up I resolve to make this tank last, and then next thing you know I'm at the pump again. I hate this routine for so many reasons. Someone help me break the cycle! (Freddy?)
* I want to know how many people read my blog. It is vain, yes. But I no longer have a counter, and I honestly have no idea. Recently a nice lady found me on flickr, said she read perfect heart, and asked if she could add me as a contact. Very sweet! It made me wonder how many others are out there, monitoring my follies. If you are reading this, will you please leave a "here," or "present" or something similar in the comments? Consider it an informal survey. Thank you.
*******************************************************************************************************
And now on to date #2 with Mike Merrill. This one was actually set up in advance of our little wager. Mike accompanied me to my cohort holiday party, which is rather like an office party, only less awkward (I'm guessing). We had just come from Jona's AMAZING curated birthday show at Nocturnal. Mike and I both had pieces in the show- Mike made a rad video with Steve, and I did a performance art piece based on Toastmasters. (Also, Steve made another sweet movie, Rebecca sang a great song, Flint did the most wonderful stand up routine I have ever seen, and many other friends made killer stuff for dear Jona on his special day!)
So by the time we arrived at the cohort party, it was late and things were winding down. Which is code for people were drunk. On a couple of occasions I introduced Mike to someone, and he put out his hand to shake, only to be pulled into a tight elementary-school-teacher hug. He was a very good sport about the hugging thing. Also about the "seeing the future educators of America's youth grinding on each other and slapping each other's asses" thing. And also the thing where Kathleen, the raddest 45 year old mom I know gave him a squeeze and said, "Oh Mike! We've heard so much about you!" They have?
Anyway, the party was fun, and I didn't feel too worried about Mike- he's no wall flower. I just went ahead and backed my ass up with Megan and Shelley, and let Mike talk stocks and bonds with the spouses. So, was this date better than date #1? Hard to say. He didn't bring along a chaperone this time, but I also didn't win any money on this date. I'd say they are tied. There are some great photos of date #2, but Mike hasn't uploaded them onto flickr yet, so I can't post them. I will try to get the real gems up soon. 2 down, 2 to go!
Posted on December 5, 2005 | Comments (19)
win a date with mike merrill
by Willow
I think I mentioned that I went to Portland Meadows this weekend for an exciting afternoon at the races. It was quite a thrill. What I didn't mention was that this excursion was the first of four dates with Mike Merrill that I won on Thanksgiving. That's right. During our betting frenzy at the bowling alley and poker table I somehow walked away the winner of four hot, hot dates. I am prohibited by contract to reveal the full details of the bet, but rest assured it is complicated and absurd. A comedy of errors, if you will.
First let me say that Mike was a wonderful date. He held the door open for me, placed bets on my behalf, and literally put me on a pedestal:
It would have been a perfect afternoon, if not for the fact that Mike brought along his ex girlfriend, Fiona. Bad form, Mikey, bad form. Steve and Rebecca also came along. Hey Mike- are we Mennonites or what? How many chaperones do we need? Ugh. Men. Always so puritanical. Always. Luckily I love the pants off of Steve, Rebecca and Fiona, so they were warm blankets, not wet blankets. You know what I mean.
We had a great time.
And I guess our date was blessed by god because Mike and I both won big money (Willow= $16, Mike=$22). Here we are rubbing it in the faces of our friends:
So I guess I am on a winning streak. I play poker tomorrow night with the ladies, and I look to win a cool $35. No dates though. I don't swing that way.
Posted on December 2, 2005 | Comments (8)