Omnia Vanitas, Baby

HI! This thing again.

I had to change the name. That last one was TERRIBLE and the one before got someone else's fingerprints all over it and wasn't fun anymore. Let's see if this one sticks. I think it is suitably dour-sounding for one little storm cloud yelling into the void (I roll my eyes at myself to save you the trouble). Also D (hilariously) bought me this for our first anniversary (awwwwww) so I may as well just make it my slogan:

This is made by Pyrrha. It is beautiful and wildly inappropriate for an anniversary present. 

Omnia vanitas, baby. 

(It means All is Emptiness, if you are too lazy to go over to Google Translate. As I would be.)

Obviously procrastination levels are CRITICAL right now, so I have been spending hundreds of hours practicing my francais on Duolingo and have decided to revive my never-read blog from twelve years ago or whatever. Good job. Also watching every period drama and art documentary on Netflix. I have technically been an adult for half my life now. I keep waiting for the time to arrive where I feel really motivated to have my shit together, but it keeps not arriving. I am starting to suspect that this is just what I am like. It could be worse, I guess, but I have wasted a lot of time waiting for some sort of certificate of arrival into grown-ass-ladyhood and now I suddenly feel like there is a lot of pressure to get done all the things I have always said I would get done. 

Here are things that have happened recently:

I quit my job.

I decided FUCK IT, I am moving to France. 

I had to start another job. (and realized that I have to stop administratively supporting other people who are actually doing the shit that I want to be doing. Arts admin and art making are nowhere near the same thing. Also, sitting at a desk is making me die. Stay tuned for more questionable decisions on the  employment front.)

I talked D into selling our condo. Moved into a new apartment that we don't own so that we are free to move to France.

I got a big wad of grant money for The Lad Mags to tour Europe with Betrayers (May/June this year! Europe buddies let's hang!)

I got talked into being the Artistic Director of the Golden West Music Fest again. (This is actually a nice thing. I love that festival, even though it eats every spare second of my time and means that I have to have endless uncomfortable conversations with people that I really like about why I can't book their band). 

I got super scared about moving to France. 

I decided FUCK IT, being scared is no reason not to move to France. 

So, we are moving to France. Holy shit. 

More things that happened recently:

The Lad Mags released a 7" that I am happy and proud about, and then our friend Fish Griwkowsky made a really lovely video for it. Sorry for the self-promo, but we worked really hard on these things and I am pretty proud of them:  

We also recorded a bunch of new stuff for the next record. Exciting! There is no better feeling than forward momentum. 

 - End Self-Promotion-  (Lo siento, buds)

The other day the weather was crappy and it put me in kind of a mood, and I was sitting at my desk at work feeling kind of anxious that maybe I am as weird in real life as I feel in my head and that maybe I just alienate everyone all the time and people are secretly super bummed when they have to hang out with me. Then I seriously actually thought "at least I am not as weird as Gowan. I bet it would be way worse if I was that weird." Actual true coping mechanism, courtesy of my brain. Jesus. 

But Gowan is pretty fucking weird. 

Ok, anyway, brief internet roundup:

Here is a photo of a couple splitting up their Beanie Babies in front of a Divorce Court judge in 1999:

REALLY. 

I am pretty sure all the problems in my life would be solved if I had this dress:

I accidentally ran out of time to finish this post, but here are a couple of quality jams and I will probably do this again soon:

Frankie and the Witch Fingers: "Diamonds" (Srsly, if this does not do it for you, your doin' it equipment is faulty). 

Tijuana Panthers:  So sun-baked 1962 that you will forget all about your 2015 frostbite. 

Have a good weekend! xo

When I'm Dead

Hi! Hi! S'me!

Procrastination levels are critical, obviously, as indicated by taking the time to update this thing that no one reads, after a year or whatever of forgetting I had it. Speaking of which, I am not feeling the recent name change. The search is back on for a new name for this dumb thing. I am open to suggestions. Please help.

I am listening to The Best Show on WMFU while I am supposed to be processing grant applications (I can't today. I just can't. I have hit the paperwork wall. Running top speed. My face is flattened, just like my will to manipulate applicant data in spreadsheets. Take me home, Tom Scharpling.)

Yo, Ma!

Anyway.

We are making a music festival. It is almost made. I thought I'd die, smooshed under a tsunami of super unsexy paperwork, the least radical way to go, but I didn't die and now the time is almost here. The Golden West Music Fest. It will be a great thing. People keep popping out of hidden cracks and places to help. Like, being super creative about ways they could possibly spend their own time and money to make our project go. I take back several of the shitty things I have said about living in Edmonton. You can do anything here. People want to help. 6% of the things. That is how many I take back. There is still winter.

Too LiveJournal-y. Let's hear a song. Audacity. They are like 11 or something, but this song rules.

Exciting news: The Lad Mags just got a grant to make a music video which is pretty awesome. We are doing a 2 part video, shooting over 2 days next week. If you want to be in either video get at me. Half of it is going to involve a giant forest party, so it will be a good time. Fish Griwkowsky is directing and shooting and Kristine Nutting was in charge of costume design (so awesome, obviously). Hilariously, the deadline falls a couple of days after the festival, during the only week when we could easily work 24 hours a day and still have too much to do, so we have been sort of losing our shit. Amazingly it all seems to be coming together, so... good. Panic is the magic motivator, once again. I swear if it wasn't for terror and jealousy I would never make or do anything. "Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity", according to T.S. Elliott. (HEADY, RIGHT??)

I have a giant scabby glue gun burn on my face (actually), but I can't believe how great everything is turning out. Here is a photo jacked from Fish's Instagram of progress on the monster costumes for the shoot. The total creeps:

I wish I could do a better job of promoting Lad Mags stuff. I feel like such a dick talking about it on the public internet. (Not here. This is mine.) HOW DO YOU SELF-PROMOTE LIKE A NON-DICK? SOMEONE TELL ME. As we slide slowly down and off various charts (thanks Edmonton, Calgary and Saskatoon for the <3), and as the little bee buzz we had going around the 7" and Sled Island stuff quiets and fades, it feels a bit like failing to not have something new to show. It's coming, really! There's a new record getting pressed soon. Don't forget us. 

Oh, here's something... let's hear the band we are splitting our next record with... The Slabs. Most of you probably already know them and have been sweated on by them and already love them and already have hazy memories of seeing a show, but just in case, their bandcamp is here

Sorry it is not embedded. I am granny luddite and I can't figure out anything. The Slabs are rad. A band full of boozy golden hearts, sweetest maniacs, party angels.

Joan Cornella

I am tired of myself already. So that is enough. See you in another 8 months or so.