Happy New Year – Whoa is Me?

The other day I received a message in my Facebook in-box. It was from somebody named “Jennie Her” and it read: “Are you a lesbian? You’re so wo is me. It’s a turn-off. People don’t like that.”

I pondered over that message for a few minutes. I don’t know this Jennie Her and when I tried to look at her Facebook page, I couldn’t see anything except her photo because she’d set up her profile to “only share certain information with friends” although apparently Facebook deemed it OK for her to share insults with anybody.

Cory thought it was just a spam message and although I marked it as such (and so it disappeared forever from my in-box)  I couldn’t stop thinking about that whole “wo is me” part and how it related to the idea that I may or may not be a lesbian and how this was making me less desirable to the world at large …

Wo is me…what did “Wo” mean? Did she mean “woe”? That would be the most obvious, of course and she wouldn’t be the first to tell me that, sometimes, I can be a bit too “woe is me,” a bit too mired in the misery, too down, too fixated on what isn’t going right. I can see how people might not like that trait but how it relates to being a lesbian is beyond me. Is woefulness a same-sex preference characteristic?

But then I thought, maybe she meant “whoa is me” – that perhaps I’m just too laid-back. Maybe I’ve been Spicoli-ing my way through life and people are finally tired of my stoner ways, they want me to stop, it’s such a turn-off.

Again, though, how does this possibly make me someone who is so out-of-touch with her own sexual preferences that she’s been living a marital lie for 10-plus years?  Dude, I’m so confused.

I do know this, however: wo, woe or whoa I don’t really care what people like or don’t like about me or what does or doesn’t turn them on.  And by “people” I mean those I don’t know or with whom I’m not already friends. My friends and family know me and, last time I checked they liked me. Oh sure, they occasionally tell me to (take your pick) snap out of it, get over yourself, lighten up, et al…but they do it with care because that’s what friends and family do.

So, sitting here at the dawn of 2010, sipping coffee and listening to the Jay Farrar & Ben Gibbard record, I’m struck with the idea of how my life has seemingly shaped up to be what it’s supposed to be.

I have goals and resolutions for this coming year….some are the usual (lose that 5 pounds, read & write everyday, cook more, buy less, be more adventurous), some are deeply personal, others are just seedlings of inspiration, ambition and desire.

Wo, woe or whoa, I’m eager to see where and who I am at the end of this year’s journey – but I’m also ready to enjoy every little step it takes to get there.

My guess is that 365 days from now I’ll be just as wo, woe or whoa as ever and I probably still won’t be a lesbian although I do understand from first-hand observations that these things can suddenly change in mid-life and if that does happen I’ll be very sorry for Cory’s sake but, you know, shit happens….

So fuck you Jennie Her – whether you’re real or a spambot — and to everyone else, a very Happy New Year …..

The Year in Song

Over at the New Yorker, John Donohue has posted a story called “The Year of the Songstress” in which he writes that “Dozens upon dozens of albums cross my desk every day. A few from this year that stand out share a common trait—they each have female vocalists.”
What is this, 1995? Have we just come down from our Liz Phair, early-Hole high and discovered that women can make music too? Sing to me Alanis, rock that guitar Meredith!

To me, Donohue’s post is as offensive as if he’d pointed out that several notable releases shared a common trait because they came from, you know, black people.

Idiot.

Moving cheerily along, I had a tough time coming up with my annual top 10 list this year and the one I threw together for the annual Pazz & Jop poll seems, in retrospect, a little half-assed and definitely half-hearted.

I’m not sure exactly where my apathy stems from. Perhaps I didn’t listen to as much new music this year — certainly leaving the Bee meant that less came my way. I felt as though I did make a point to seek out new artists or listen to new releases by old favorites but perhaps not as much in years past.

I think maybe it’s that as this year was so much about starting over that I simply found comfort in old music. There were old favorites by the likes of Whiskeytown, Yo La Tengo and Jeff Buckley.

There were plenty of decades-old tunes as well. I listened to a lot of Duke Ellington, Peggy Lee, Memphis Minnie, Etta Fitzgerald, Kay Starr, George Jones and Dolly Parton this year. That’s just what sounded right to my ears.

That said, here are my favorite albums of 2009, pared down from the Village Voice entry into a more enthusiastic Top 5 list

1. “Merriweather Post Pavilion” – Animal Collective

I’ve always been sort of on the fence with this group but this epic pop album sealed the deal.

2. “It’s Not You, It’s Me” – Lily Allen

I was worried Lily Allen would let me down after her debut album – a disc I thoroughly wore out with constant rotation – but this album is just as saucy, sassy and sarcastically fun.

3. “Wilco (The Album)” – Wilco

Another Wilco album, another favorite. What can I say? I like even their worst albums but thankfully this one proved to be a great one.

4. “Actor” – St. Vincent. Took me a long time to warm up to this one but once I did I was glad I gave it all those chances.

5.  “Hazards of Love” – The Decemberists. Epic album that finally fulfilled this band’s potential.

I also really like the new Raveonettes album but I just got it a week ago so it seems premature to declare it a 2009 favorite.

It was easier to pick out songs that I loved …

1. “My Girls” – Animal Collective
2. “Heavy Cross” – The Gossip
3. “Fuck You” – Lily Allen
4. “I’ll Fight” – Wilco
5. “Nothing to Hide” – Yo La Tengo
6. “”What We Know” – Sonic Youth
7. “Led to the Sea” – Jenny Owens Young
8. “”High Horses” – the Swell Season
9. “”Laughing with a Mouth of Blood” – St. Vincent
10. “Everytime I’m With You” – Sparklehorse, featuring Jason Lytle
11. “The Gold” – Sea of Bees
12. “Dull Life” – the Yeah Yeah Yeahs
13. “Palace of Bone” – Peter Doherty
14. “Eager to Die” – Mike Hale
15. “Hideaway” – Karen O. & the Kids
16. “Voodoo” – Ganglians
17. “Like a Hitman, Like a Dancer” – A.C. Newman
18. “Primitive Man” – Fruit Bats
19. “The Hazards of Love” – The Decemberists
20. “Life’s a Dream” – Built to Spill
21. “My Life Would Suck Without You” – Kelly Clarkson

I think Cory is secretly ashamed that I love Kelly Clarkson … oh well, he should be able to accept my love for sugary-sweet-on-the-outside, tough-in-the-center pop music by now…

Friday Night Lights

Pacers 4 Life

I’ve spent the last five weeks of my life immersed in this Grant High School football story. The Grant High Paers won the 2008 CIF championship. It was the first time any Sacramento-area team won a state football title.

At first I wasn’t exactly sure of the story’s focus; generally I thought it would be a look at how that win did–or didn’t–change the team. But ultimately, although that idea lingered, it also shifted as I got to know some of the players. Running back Devontae Butler – the undisputed star of the team– and his best friend quarterback Glenn Deary were both nice enough to talk to me, answer my stupid questions about football and, more important, open up about their lives and their ambitions. Along the way, I learned that Butler and Deary have been best friends since age 6 and are now thinking about playing ball for the same college team. These are two extraordinary kids, on and off the field and I really enjoyed getting to know them.

It probably goes without saying that, along the way, I became extremely invested in these kids. No journalistic non-bias going on here, at least not when it came to hoping that they’d go all the way to the next bowl game.

But life happens and that win was not meant to be. It was difficult to walk out on the field after Rocklin’s win and see 16 and 17-year-old young men crying.

A heartbreaker but I think that with the support of family and friends, these players – Butler and Deary in particular– will  do just fine. I hope so. I never really kept up with local high school football before this story but researching it I learned of the many former Grant players who started out strong only to stumble –Tommy Hall is the worst recent example.

That cliche “It takes a village ….” ? Never more true. These kids are smart and talented but they’ll need the whole damn neighborhood to succeed. But, really, don’t we all?

Revolution Snuggie

Raise the roof in your snuggie

Yikes, I didn’t realize it’d been so long since the last update; the last two weeks didn’t get away from me–they clobbered me. Papers to grade, holidays to hold, cover stories to write. It feels like I’m only just now coming up for air and still the semester isn’t even over yet. Anyone want to grade final papers for me? I’ll pay you in cookies (kidding LRCC, kidding…).

I’ve basically been in survival mode the last few weeks, grading and writing non-stop, not seeing much of friends, my only downtime coming late at night when I finally head to the couch and Cory pours me a glass of wine and I try to bring my breathing down to something normal, something that will let me approach sleep.

As it’s finally and blissfully cold, this ritual also includes the nightly donning of fleecy pants, hoodies and slippers (sexy, right?). Lately I’ve been joking about how I want a Snuggie– you know, the fleecy “blanket with sleeves.” It started when Cory and I were trying to figure out our Halloween costumes and nearly settled on the laziest costume of all time: Snuggies. Seriously, how rad would that have been? Well, I thought it would be anyway–cozy, drink-friendly, cheap and effortless.

That didn’t happen but, still I joked and then, spurred on by a suggestion from Becca, I decided to write my column about Snuggies.

I didn’t tell Cory this so imagine my surprise when he came home from work on Monday–just hours after I filed my column–with a gift: My very own forest green Snuggie!

I opened it that night all set to get as snuggie as possible….but ….

Well, here’s how the Snuggie web site tries to sell you on this fleecy invention:

The Snuggie is perfect for:

* Traveling in the Car
* Night Time Pub Crawls
* Chilly Office Buildings
* Sporting Events
* Cold Movie Theaters

Here’s what they don’t tell you about the Snuggie:

* It’s constructed for an NBA player – seriously it’s long enough for me to wear while standing on Beno Udrih’s shoulders
* It’s got extra long, baggy arms, it kind of looks like you’re wearing a Hogwarts robe — one constructed for Hagrid
* It looks like it was constructed in one of Kathie Lee Gifford’s sweatshops — yeah, it’s that bad.

And yet I wear it. I wear it on the couch, I wear it while typing, I wear it while I’m napping. So far, however, I think I have too much of a personal sense of shame to ever–ever–wear this damn thing in public. If I ever do, stick a fork in me, I’m done ….

Words, words, words

New column up but listen, I don’t want to debate all day and night about Twilight’s feminist fortitude or lack thereof.
What I’d rather talk about is all the great word-related stuff that’s going on – and yes this involves a little shameless self-promotion.

Tonight at Luna’s it’s the latest installment of WTF! This quarterly chapbook, published by Rattlesnake Press, features poetry, art and photography from all over and is truly a work to behold, chockful of provocative, sexy and downright dangerous shit. Love it! WTF is curated by the one-and-only Frank Andrick and he’s also tonight’s featured reader along with the inimitable Josh Fernandez. Plus expect some awesome soundscape via Ross Hammond.

I had to miss the last WTF reading because I was in the throes of a nasty case of food poisoning. This time out I plan to stay as far away as possible from anything that might try to take me down. I have one piece in this edition and if time permits I might read my piece from August’s issue as well.

Oh yeah — and it’s free.

Then on Saturday night, also at Luna’s, it’s a night so awesome I’m dying of excitement (well, not literally -yet. Again, must stay away from that spinach-feta pizza).

Check it out: Beth Lisick, Michelle Tea, Tara Jepson and my good friend Becca Costello. Also on the bill: Barbara Noble and the Stop Being a Fucking Creep feminist collective. I’ll also be reading.  That show starts at 9 p.m. and costs $10 at the door — well worth the price.

And, because all good things seem to come back to Frank Andrick – this is also his show. Big thanks to him for putting it together and letting me be on the bill.

Private vs. Public

New column up; this was a tough one for me to write about. I didn’t want to minimize or sensationalize Rihanna’s situation — or my own. Hopefully I succeeded.

Day 245 of My New Life

Eight months ago today I was laid off from my job at the Sacramento Bee. It was a horrible day but then again it wasn’t.

The company had announced its plans for layoffs about six weeks prior to the actual date of bloodletting; we knew the job eliminations were coming, we just didn’t know exactly how many people would be “permanently separated” from the company or, exactly when it would happen. Without going into all the boring specifics it finally came down to union negotiations and a hotly debated vote.

By Friday, March 6 we all pretty much knew that the following Monday would be The Day. Our bosses asked us to let us know where we’d be that morning — just in case, you know, they needed to reach us.

After weeks of worry, it was a relief to finally have that day come — even when I woke up suddenly at 4 a.m. on the morning of March 9 and said to myself, “you’re going to get laid off.”

Somehow, right then and there, I just knew that my job of nearly nine years was done.

The tap on my shoulder came at about 9:20 a.m. (and yes it was a tap; the cliched tap …but to be truthful I saw my boss out of the corner of my eye about 10 seconds prior to the tap and so I knew then and not by the power of her executive touch).

I was led downstairs into a conference room where I found a manager, a small sheath of papers and a box of Kleenex.

It all happened very quickly; the manager seemed truly upset. I think he may have even said something akin to “It’s not you, it’s us …” Regardless, I just felt numb.

Upside: I didn’t have to cover a story I’d been dreading.

Downside: It was my mother’s 60th birthday and I had to call her with that news instead of just a celebratory birthday greeting.

Fast-forward eight months and my life feels very very different. Very different and mostly better.

Eight months is a long time — almost enough time to gestate a baby and in a way, I feel as though I’ve conceived of a new life. One that follows my own standards for creativity and happiness.

I’ll admit that finances have sometimes — OK, quite often–been a worry but thanks to many factors (cutting back on extraneous spending, freelance work and the Bee’s severance package), we’ve made it work. It’s also been emotionally hard; I knew I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days at the Bee but it’s still tough when someone breaks up with you, whatever the reason and no matter how good it ultimately is for you.

But now here I am working two part-time jobs, teaching English at Sacramento City College and writing for the Sacramento News & Review and, quite honestly, I can’t imagine going back to my life before.

I love teaching for the most part. I don’t love grading papers but I love talking to students in the classroom — some of my kids (and I think of them all as “kids,” even the ones who are older than me by decades) are absolutely wonderful in their desire to learn and grow; they have great senses of humor, they even get my weird jokes. Sometimes after a particularly good class session I actually feel giddy and enormously optimistic about the world. Granted, I do have some, um, “problem kids” but dealing with their issues (mostly of the attitude variety) has also taught me a lot about communication and the importance of trusting in my own authority.

I also, of course, love writing. Being back at the News & Review is exciting and rewarding. I’m sure there were some who questioned my return after nearly a decade but when they approached me about freelancing and, then later, brought up the job opportunity I knew in my gut that it was the right thing to do. Here is a newspaper that values creativity and good reporting and voice and enterprise; it just feels completely right to be there again.

One of the best aspects of this new life (245 days, more or less) is the flexibility it gives me. I think I may be busier than ever but I get to work from home a lot and set much of my own schedule. In the last eight months that’s afforded me the chance to write more — I’ve started a screenplay and a book. I’ve written several personal essays and jotted down a handful of new poems. In other areas of my life I’ve also found time to cook more and even joined a gym. All of that feels pretty damn good.

Thanks to everyone who helped me out during the last eight months — everything from job and writing contacts to just a much-needed word of cheer or support.

I am truly grateful for everything.

Kevin Martin out – it’s official, the Sacramento Kings are cursed

Kings’ Kevin Martin may be out 6-8 weeks –

Ugh – right on the heels of that killer 48-point game.

Please let me be sick in peace …

I don’t have the swine flu, so chill the heck out already …

I’ve already developed at least three mini-colds in the last two weeks. A “mini-cold” is when I suddenly have the symptoms of a cold but it usually only lasts a day at the most and the symptoms are alleviated by a) Lots of Airborne*, vitamin C and garlic and b) extra sleep.

I go through this cycle a lot during the winter months – whenever I work too much, get super-stressed and/or don’t get enough sleep.

Sometimes they come out of nowhere for no particular reason. Last year I was forced to review the Trans-Siberian Orchestra holiday concert at ARCO Arena and, as we left our seats to walk to the concourse, I started sneezing and didn’t stop for another 24 hours.

I could blame that one on all the germy Trans-Siberian fans but I’d rather blame it on the orchestra and its hopelessly cheesy stage show. It was either that or the creepy conductor who kept leering at me and Paloma. I’m pretty sure you can catch a cold via a creepy, lecherous gaze.

Sorry Paloma, I’m the one who ended up with the (thankfully temporary) cold but I feel like I still owe you big time for going to that show with me.

*I realize there’s significant doubt as to Airborne’s actual effectiveness but whether it’s real or just a placebo effect, it seems to really help whenever I start to get that first wave of sneezes, aches and pains.

Darond-oh!

I drove out to Elk Grove today to interview a 63-year-old musician by the name of Darondo. Back in the day, this guy was well on his way to big success but he gave it all up after just a few live shows.

Why? I can’t tell you that just yet (the story comes out later this month), but I can say this, it was a great interview. William Darondo Pulliam made – and is still making – some awesome funk music and he is, as the old ladies say, a real kick in the pants. I enjoyed talking to him and hearing some crazy stories that may or may not involve mink coats, James Brown and the Outside Lands Festival.

Also: He makes all visitors take off their shoes before entering his house. I am so glad I just got a pedicure.