Ahoy, mates!

So, do tell:

Where’s the best place to live in Seattle? Which are the best schools (public or private (for the children under 18))? Is it really so very rainy or is that just an urban legend?

I have reason to believe this may be in my (relatively) distant future:

http://depts.washington.edu/bioe/programs/phd/phd.html

Kuiper Sophie Smith was born on 1/13 weighing 7 lbs. 4 oz. and standing 20 inches tall. She’s perfect and we’re all on a babymoon.

And for inquiring minds and their wanting to know…

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuiper_belt

Good news! As of today, I am once again gainfully employed; I was offered and have accepted a position at a public library here in the Portland area. The folks who work there all seem nice, it’s only a ten minute drive from home, the pay’s decent (for Maine, anyway) aaaand - best of all - there’s already a Tech Services Librarian on staff!

Oh, thank you Jeebus, Buddha, Allah, Krishna, Zoroaster, Confucius, the whole buncha ya. No more messing with domain servers and mail servers and file servers and firewalls; no more showing library staff how to cut and paste for the zillionth time; no more listening to people bitch when the internet connection goes down. IT’LL BE SOMEONE ELSE’S PROBLEM!!! AAAAAAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA!!!

As of next Monday, I will be working again, and the money will once again be rolling in. I’m rich, beeatch! No more government cheese for me!

As one of our first events, The Helm has booked two rock shows in Tacoma featuring Berkeley musician Marty Anderson of Okay. Opening acts include The Elephants, Wallpaper, and Whiting Tennis.

If you’re not already convinced that this show is gonna be jam packed with tasty tasty pop music, check out “Oh Tina” on the elephants myspace or “Troll for you” from Whiting Tennis. Or check out this video of Wallpaper a couple years back. Mmmm, so tasty.

Here is the official press release:

Okay in Tacoma

Exit 133 and The Helm are proud to present two solo performances by
Berkeley-based singer/songwriter Marty Anderson. A local legend of sorts,
Marty is best known in Tacoma as the front man of Dilute; a jazz influenced
indie rock band that played a couple of highly memorable local shows a few
years ago. More recently, Marty has been playing pop based music under the
pun-lending name of Okay. Less experimental than Dilute, Okay offers
classically structured pop songs and impossibly catchy melodies, which are
uniquely delivered in Anderson’s obscure but charming wail. Without a doubt
this should be the most relevant and interesting indie performance to hit
Tacoma all summer.

Tuesday, August 14th, Okay will play a 21 and over show at Bob’s Java Jive
with San Juan (ex-Eyes of Autumn) and Whiting Tennis. Doors will be open at
8PM. Tickets cost $10 and are available at the Blackwater Café and online at
www.brownpapertickets.com .

Wednesday, August 15th, Okay will play an all ages show at Club SOTA with
The Elephants, Wallpaper, and Tree Roots in the Basement. Doors will open at
7PM. Tickets cost $15 presale and $20 at the door. They are also available
at the two locations mentioned above.

Listen to Okay:

Good

Sing-Along

Read more about Marty Anderson:

Pitchfork record review of Low Road/High Road.

SF Weekly article.

For more information about The Helm, visit www.thehelmgallery.com

A few of you already know about this, but now it’s going public.

My friend Sean and I are opening an art gallery in Tacoma. We have big plans for community projects, installations, residency, design studios, etc, etc. There is much that is missing in Tacoma. But we plan to continue to plug holes in a consistently more and more seaworthy city. Convincing Seattlites that Tacoma is worth a damn is difficult, and in the past I have thought about leaving, but the longer I stay here the more I realize the potential. The guys over at Beautiful Angle made me aware of a passage about Pimlico, a suburb of London. This is taken from a G. K. Chesterton book entitled Orthodoxy:

“Let us suppose we are confronted with a desperate thing — say Pimlico. If we think what is really best for Pimlico we shall find the thread of thought leads to the throne or the mystic and the arbitrary. It is not enough for a man to disapprove of Pimlico: in that case he will merely cut his throat or move to Chelsea. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of Pimlico: for then it will remain Pimlico, which would be awful. The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love Pimlico: to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved Pimlico, then Pimlico would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles; Pimlico would attire herself as a woman does when she is loved. For decoration is not given to hide horrible things: but to decorate things already adorable. A mother does not give her child a blue bow because he is so ugly without it. A lover does not give a girl a necklace to hide her neck. If men loved Pimlico as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is THEIRS, Pimlico in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. Some readers will say that this is a mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great. Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her.”

A bit grandiose, but I enjoy the sentiment.

www.thehelmgallery.com

The opening will be September 20th. It should not be missed.

I’m mostly excited for the Danny J piece.

Peeps. Just a line to let you know that I’ve just accepted an offer of employment with one of Seattle’s premier interactive marketing firms. I will be stepping into a senior role, helping clients to design and implement “enterprise content management solutions.” Or, as we call them around here, “websites.”

This is totally awesome, and sure beats the hell out of the excitement of last weekend.

Another week of hard work and I’m done with grad school.

Well, I am finally feeling up to posting.

As you may or may not know, Greg and I are expecting. A baby. And to win the lottery, because, like the man says, you can’t win if you don’t play. Anyhow, some background: we decided we wanted more children about six months ago and when I went in for a pre-conception visit, I was sidelined by the whole “having cancer” thing. Well, six weeks after my successful treatment, my OB gave me clearance for take-off and I immediately got pregnant. I also knew immediately because — and I am not kidding here — I started having pregnancy symptoms TWO DAYS after conception. And, unlike my prior pregnancies, I have symtoms of every stripe — sick sick sick, sore and growing boobies, being worn out from taking naps, emotional to the point of absurdity, and others that I’m sure I’ve now acclimated to and hardly notice.

I am, as of today, five weeks pregnant. I go in for my first appointment with my OB on May 22nd, the day before I leave for an extended holiday. I feel compelled to tell you about my OB: I love him. And I don’t mean like, “I respect his work,” or “he is highly competent and has a wonderful bedside manner.” I mean, like love love. He makes me have cartoon hearts in my eyes. His name is Tommy and he is a personal friend of mine (I interned for him when I was in school and thought I wanted to be a doctor. Kids, huh?) I think Greg may love him, too, because, when he came back into the recovery area after I had my surgery, he hugged Tommy and said, “Thank you for taking care of her. You’re my hero.” And I’m pretty sure I saw cartoon hearts in his eyes, too.

Here’s some other interesting bits:

We have already picked out names for girls and boys.

Girls: 1st place: Xiaolin

2nd place: Ella

Boys: 1st place: Finn

2nd place: Carroll

—-

I will be delivering at this hospital and this will be my room. I will opt for the suite if it is available because I am a hedonist and none of my pleasures are guilty.

—-

My due date (per my last period) is January 11, 2008. The ultrasound I will have on the 22nd will either confirm this date or set a new one based on the fetal development.

—-

We’ve told all of our friends and family and everyone is positively giddy.

—-

It is momentous, friends, making a child with a person that you adore.

Yours In Puke,
Mel

Some of you may know that my betrothed is the head sign language interpreter for Seattle Hempfest. However, most of you probably don’t know that Hempfest racked up massive legal debts last year when they were forced to sue the city after the construction of Seattle Art Museum’s sculpture park effectively blocked the entrance to Myrtle Edwards Park.

To partially recoup some of these costs, and to ensure that they have enough funds to hold the rally again this year, they’re putting on a benefit this Friday, April 20th at Little Red Studio, located at 750 Harrison Street. Everybody should go. It’s easy to forget, here in enlightened Seattle, that the pot laws in the overwhelming majority of US states and cities are still mired in the Dark Ages. As long as law enforcement in this country continues to perpetuate the lunacy of throwing citizens in jail for the chemicals they put in their own bodies, events like Hempfest will continue to be necessary. Throw them a few ducats this Friday.

Friends! Lycanthropes! Misfits! Children of God! I come bearing good tidings of good things that are good!

My surgery went okay — thanks for asking, K. The path report came back and they got all of the cancer. The pharmacist at my local Walgreens, upon filling a prescription for me, said, “Wow! Congrats! You’re a cancer survivor!” I told her that we prefer to be referred to as “cancer victims” and not “survivors” but I think my humor noir was lost on her. She’s just a pharmacist! Sheesh! It would be asking too much of any person to count pills all day and have a keen eye for jokes made in poor taste. Be reasonable.

Anyhow, the procedure itself was only minorly painful (ed note: I do have a freakishly high tolerance to physical pain so your mileage may very vary.) The worst part of the whole thing was that I was prohibited from doing the s-e-x word (at least in my baby cave) for three weeks post-op. This pretty much guarantees that I’ve grown a new freshness seal (hymen, in some circles.)

Anyhow, about that three weeks? If you were keeping track, you would know that it ends tonight.

So. See ya!

(p.s. just foolin’ about the YouTube tag)

Now that Ze Frank has retired his video blog I have no way of getting my fix for this handsome, clever, brilliant man. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m sure every woman who watched his vlog felt the same way, I would probably contact him and let him know that I want to bear his children or just enjoy trying to…every day…for the rest of my life…excuse me for a second…

In honor of the year project, or internship as he termed it, I want to direct you to a couple of my favorite most recent posts. The first one in honor of my sister and all the rest of us who are master procrastinators. I’m pretty sure he has a hidden camera at our house and did some study on how my sister manages her time.

The second one is for all you Wii players. Golden. I’ll miss you Ze. And don’t mind the Silver Dodge Stratus parked outside your apartment. That’s not me.