Here Comes the Neighborhood

As if there already weren’t enough daily reminders that we are in a recession, we are now surrounded on 3 sides by people living in their vehicles.

At the end of our block, a young man lives in an old school bus painted the colors of the Jamaican flag. He has also painted over the s and h so that it reads “cool bus”. He’s been there for a while, since before the recession, and I’ve never been all that concerned with his presence. He’s clearly made a lifestyle choice.

Across the street, a young man lives in his van. He apparently knows one of our neighbors, as I have seen them talking. One time, they returned from somewhere together in the van. But the neighbor got out and went into the house while the man stayed in his mobile dwelling. I was nervous when I first noticed him living there a few months ago, but knowing that he is an acquaintance of our pre-existing neighbors (even though it is one of the irresponsible dog owners who always lets their dog crap on our lawn) gives him a vouched-for quality.

Up until last Sunday, there was an older man and woman living in a camper in the Mormon church parking lot behind our house. But they were also flush with our back fence and could see directly into our yard as well as our living room. After the man came over to ask if he could mow our lawn for money (we declined), I started closing the curtains. He later saw my husband mowing our lawn and again approached him to ask if he could help with the blackberry bushes. We declined once more. They were in the Mormon parking lot for a couple of weeks so I assume that they had permission to be there. But perhaps the hospitality has run out because as of last Sunday, they have moved their camper, truck and sedan to the driveway to the left of our house. It’s not technically our property (I don’t think) but they’re even closer to our house than they were before. I can hear them as they come and go and when they slam the doors of their various vehicles.

There aren’t very many parking spaces left on our street so I don’t know if we’re going to be getting any new neighbors. I hope we won’t. Actually, I’m a bit torn about all of this. On the one hand, it feels a bit invasive. I’m not keen on having such a crowded alley. One of the nice things about our house was that it was pretty private. But now I can see our “neighbors” when I’m doing dishes. Likewise, they know when we’re home and solicit us for work. I feel like telling them to go park in “Hobo Alley”, a park and ride under the freeway which has been home to several van dwellers for many years. It feels like our street has unwittingly become the Hobo Alley Annex. And given our break-in last year, from which I have never fully recovered, I’m not super stoked on that fact. On the other hand, if I suddenly found myself having to live in my car, I wouldn’t want to live in Hobo Alley either. I do feel really bad for these people, which is why I haven’t said anything to them about moving on. But I’m also very wary of strangers. It feels like a liability.

One thing I’m sure I have in common with our new neighbors is that I hope this is a temporary situation. Things seem to just keep getting worse in the economy with no real indication of how recovery is even possible.

May 13, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary, Seattle . . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Old Dog, New Tricks

I grew up in Richmond, Virginia. When I lived there, it was a pretty poor excuse for a major city. Sure, there was all that history, the beautiful old buildings, the James river and the greenery. There was soul food and plenty of places to get pancakes. But if you wanted ethnic food, your choices were Olive Garden or Chi-Chis. The vegetarian option most places was vegetable sides and rolls. If you wanted to see a major band that wasn’t Christian or Country, you usually had to drive to D.C. There were, in fact, 4 country radio stations but no modern rock station. Every other car on the road sported a gun rack, a rebel flag, or both. There was a pretty cool small punk rock scene and that was definitely where I spent my free time. But other than that, it was pretty difficult to locate any culture at all.

I lived in Richmond (well…OK…the suburbs thereof) for 11 years. When I graduated from high school, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I went to college as far away as I possibly could and still live in the continental U.S. I visited several times a year until I graduated and never really noticed any progress. So once I started living my adult life, I hardly ever had reason to go back. I took my friend Faye as my date to my dad’s wedding in 2002. Our hotel was downtown. When the wedding wrapped up at 11, we weren’t ready for bed so we hit the town. It was a Friday. But the town was empty. We went into a bar where a man was playing acoustic guitar. We were the only people in there besides him and the bartender. We ordered drinks and sat down in the back. We clapped in between songs and then regretted it because he started talking to us. From stage. After every song. Eventually, he asked us for requests. We finished our drinks and left. We wandered around for a bit longer before deciding to see what was on pay per view back in the hotel.

When my friend Frank chose to move there, I thought he was nuts. He insisted it was a cool place. Frank is a pretty hip guy, but I had a hard time believing him.

This past weekend, my dad retired from his company after working there for 22 years. They loved him and threw him a big party. He’s been working, in some capacity, since he was 14 years old. He raised 2 kids, and then, when he finally shuffled them out of the house, he re-married and got 2 more kids. My husband and I went to celebrate his well-deserved break. It was held at the Art Museum. The food was amazing. There were speeches and lots of leaky eyes. There was a D.J., dancing (mostly done by my dad and step mom) and an open bar (mostly utilized by yours truly). It was a terrific party.


My step mother leads the charge on The Electric Slide

But that my dad had touched this many people, that they admired and respected him so much and were sad to see him go, that they could throw such a terrific party in his honor, were not the surprising things. What surprised me, was that Richmond is no longer a lame place to live.


My old man gives a speech…makes everyone cry.

It’s actually really cool there now. REALLY cool. On Friday before the party, B and I wandered around. We had sweet tea and sweet potato fries at Gutenbergs, a cafe with several vegetarian and vegan options. We did the Canal Walk. We checked out the Poe Museum (inside the oldest standing house in Richmond, est. 1737). We had lunch with my dad and aunt at Millie’s Diner, another menu full of vegetarian options. I took pictures of an old train, old buildings and lots of murals. That stuff was all there when I lived there, of course. The preservation of old buildings has long been my favorite thing about the city. They really have a respect for history there. I wish Seattle would take a queue from them sometimes.

On Saturday, we hung with Frank. He took us to yet another cafe full of vegetarian options. Then he rattled off, like, FIVE things going on that day that sounded cool. Unfortunately, they were all outdoors and the weather had other plans for us. It hardly ever rains in RVA but when it does, it pours. And pour it did. We decided to go to the store and get some BBQ ingredients in the hopes that it would let up. If it didn’t, we could still BBQ and eat inside. If it did, we could wander around or maybe hit one of the day’s outdoor events.

When we left the grocery store, it had stopped raining and the sun was out. We dropped off the groceries and went for a walk down Carey street. It was always the coolest street in Richmond, but it wasn’t always so diverse. In addition to the boutiques and movie theatre of old, there are now indie book stores, knick knack shops, gourmet ice cream (chai and mexi-chocolate flavors!) and a huge record store. We spent some time at Chop Suey, a hip bookstore complete with cat. Got some aforementioned ice cream and headed back to the house.


$2 movies at the historic Byrd theatre.

And then it rained again. So much so that we couldn’t make it the remaining 3 blocks without getting drenched. Fortunately, there was a bar right there and they didn’t mind that we had dripping ice cream cones. We had a beer and waited out the rain. Then we returned to Frank’s incredibly cool row house for some porchin’. God, I love porchin’. Our next house absolutely must have a porch on which we can place a couch or a swing. It’s imperative.


Porchin’ it.

After BBQ we headed out to an event that was, thankfully, indoors: the Found! Magazine show at Gallery 5. The founders of Found! were there, reading their favorite found notes, letters and receipts and singing songs inspired by said found words. It was a pretty incredible show. (And guess what! They’re coming to Seattle this summer!).


Indoor BBQ.


Found! Magazine show.

After that, we returned to Frank’s place to shoot pool, listen to music and chat with him and his awesome girlfriend, who had returned home from work at the liquor store. She had some terrific stories about said job. We also dug into my earlier impulse buy of a Carvel’s ice cream cake. Sadly, there was no Cookiepuss, (OR Fudgy, the Whale), but it was delicious nonetheless.

All day long I marveled about how much fun I was having. I mean, when I lived there, I had fun sometimes, but it wasn’t easy. This was effortless fun. Throughout the day, I saw fliers everywhere for things I wanted to do if only I was staying longer. Cure cover bands, 80’s and electro dance nights, readings and art shows. It was like Georgetown had been transplanted to the South. I suppose it had to happen sometime. A city can’t live in the past forever. Cheap rent attracts poor, creative types, some of whom are vegan and many of whom sport sleeve tats. I’m really happy that it happened to RVA. It’s no longer the stagnant, backwards place I grew up in. It’s even somewhere I could see myself living again (if I could get past the unbearable summer heat and mosquitoes).

Perhaps the biggest sign of change (after their blue state showing in the 2008 election) is that, in December, they are banning smoking in public places. It won’t be like in Seattle. You’ll still be able to smoke right in front of doors. Furthermore, “private clubs” will still allow smoking so a lot of bars will probably turn private, using the Utah model of $1-5/year membership fees. I bet elementary school children don’t even go to Philip Morris for field trips anymore.


It’s toasted!

Yes, Virginia is now a blue state with smoking bans and vegan restaurants. Things are looking up for America. And I’m so happy that RVA is doing their part. I was filled with pride this past weekend. Pride for my (current) dad and my (former) home state.

May 4, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: 1 Comment

The Case of the Missing Garbage

My husband told me that he’d discovered something strange this morning. After putting out our garbage last night, he went to bring the bin to the curb this morning for our weekly pickup and noticed the bin was very light. He opened it. It was empty.

In Washington, or at least the Seattle area, our garbage situation is a little different. We have recycling bins for our plastic containers bottles, foil and paper. We have a yard waste bin for food scraps. All personal mail is shredded and put in the recycling bin. The items that go in our garbage are human waste, pet waste, plastic wrap and things like light bulbs and batteries. Certainly nothing exciting. Moreover, nothing that is in any way edible or would allow someone to steal our identities. In fact, they could learn very little about us from our garbage apart from the fact that I dye my hair and our cats poop…a lot.

So where did our garbage go?!!

Did someone take it? It seems like that is the only explanation. Raccoons would have left a huge mess. And they wouldn’t have gone after it anyway since it wouldn’t have smelled enticing. And if someone DID take it, WHY?!

We’ve had a bit of a silent feud brewing with our neighbors across the street. They have dogs. They let the dogs crap on our lawn. We put up a sign that has a picture of a dog crapping surrounded by a big “no” sign. The dogs still pooped there. Shortly after that, I started finding little plastic bags of dog crap in our garbage can. This annoyed me because our garbage men wouldn’t take them as is, so I’d have to put their little crap baggies into a normal garbage bag for pickup. So I started putting the glass recycling container on top of the garbage can to deter them from doing this. This morning, the glass container was not on top of the garbage can. My husband offered that maybe one of them went to put their dog crap in our can, felt guilty, and took our entire bag of garbage to their own can. That seems uncharacteristically considerate for someone who can’t walk across the street with a small bag of dog crap.

So I’m at a total loss here. Who or what could have taken our garbage and to what end? Moreover, is this something we should be concerned about? We were robbed last year and vandalized a month later. It’s not a dangerous neighborhood but crime does happen here. Is stealing garbage really a crime?

Please outline your theories in the comments.

April 28, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary . . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

You Do It To Yourself, You Do

And that’s why it really hurts…

I had a perfectly good recommendation from a friend for a hairdresser. I went to her recommendation last time and was happy with the results. But that recommendation has very limited hours (weekends and evenings) and takes over two hours for a cut. I needed something in a hurry this time. So I went to Rudy’s. I brought a picture for the rest of my hair and had the very simple description of “Bettie Page bangs” for the apparently problematic fringe portion of my head. This girl had a picture of Bettie Page on decorating her station so I thought she knew what I was talking about. I relaxed when she cut the rest of my hair just perfectly. Then she dried my hair and told me to close my eyes because she was about to start on my bangs.

I think that “bangs” should be an entire semester long class in beauty school because no one seems to know how the fuck to cut them. Every new hairdresser seems to think my bangs need more bangs and they cut them without asking. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if I didn’t have my bangs died a different color than the rest of my hair. Do they really think I’ll be totally cool with walking out of the place with black stripes in my purple bangs? It’s obviously a look I worked hard to achieve.

Even if I was OK with the extra bangs, I would not be OK with how she gave them to me. The new bangs aren’t in an even part. It’s all willy nilly. So now I’m going to have to invest in some barrettes and hair pins while I grow this shit out. I shouldn’t have to be doing this again. I know it’s my fault for waiting too long to go to inconvenient but sure-thing hairdresser. But do I really deserve this?:

I don’t even know what to do with this. Even after I pin back the extra bangs the remaining bangs are still pointy and weird. Normally I wouldn’t worry about it this much. It’ll grow back and be fine. But this is pretty fucked up. I could have done a better job myself…when I was 5. Is it really alright to send your client away looking like this?:

Dear Baxter,
Let this be a reminder to you, you masochistic moron. No more short cuts. Go to the lady who knows what she’s doing. ALWAYS. Even if you have to wait an extra long time or block out a big part of your Saturday. Otherwise it’s Barbie hair massacre for you. And you’ll still have to pay for it.
Love,
Me

April 23, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: 7 Comments

SXSW 09 – The Aftermath

It was, as per usual, amazing. Though it has gotten a lot harder to get into the night shows without an exorbitantly priced pass or impossible to acquire wristband, we still saw a lot of great bands. Such as:

*The Shaky Hands
*The Paper Chase
*Hey Marseilles
*The Rosebuds
*Juliette and the New Romantiques
*Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head
*The Red Verse

We saw comedy! The likes of Eugene Mirman, Doug Benson, Todd Barry and Janeane Garofolo.

We hit karaoke at Ego’s, which is a bar inside a parking garage. I laid eyes on the most incredible book I’ve ever seen. They had EVERYTHING. It put the old Sunset Bowl system to shame.

We ate. A lot. Queso! Tacos! Vegan tamales! More queso! I can never tire of tex mex, apparently. The street food rocks. Serrano’s has the best happy hour and a lovely patio. Stubb’s Legendary BBQ is just OK.

We found ourselves at a house party in the suburbs and had quite the adventure getting back to our hotel.

Free beer was rampant. I drank my fill of Shiner Bock.

We saw a terrific movie (Grace) and an awful movie (My Suicide – reviews to come).

The weather was OUTSTANDING. My tan lines are back.

See it in pictures here.

March 24, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary, Picture Pages . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: 2 Comments

Hard Times

Yep, we’re in a depression. And I am freelancing so that means that while I am basically just making lunch money, I am making too much money to qualify for unemployment. So I keep the house clean and I cook dinner every night to try and earn my keep. I’ve always been a quasi-feminist so I never had designs to become a full time housewife. But my husband is the only person who will hire me right now so that is what I am. If we had children, I wouldn’t mind so much. I would feel like I was at least contributing to the development of the future of the human race. But we have only cats. I’m trying not to get too depressed about it.

I’m also trying to not be such a financial drain on my wonderful, patient, hard-working and fortunately still gainfully employed husband. So I’ve made a decision. It’s a small gesture in the grand scheme of things but a pretty huge one in my world. But I feel it’s an important one. I’ve decided to stop cranking up the thermostat. I will put on a damn sweater and socks. I may even invest in a snuggie. Energy isn’t cheap. And as long as I am barely contributing monetarily to the family pot, I should stop being so indulgent.

March 13, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary, This is the End . . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

America’s Next Top Production Assistant

My dream last night was obviously influenced by what I was watching before bed.

In it, I was a P.A. on America’s Next Top Model. I’d just finished fetching a runaway raft, a prop in the photo shoot of the day, in a slimy body of water. When I got back, Tyra called a dinner break and everyone went off to eat.

She took me aside and said that, as a reward for my dedicated work, she was going to give me the chance of a lifetime. I was to give one of the models a haircut and make a set of cloth boots using some light pink plaid fabric (remarkably similar to the color of the tacky-ass limo the girls rode in on the actual show this week). If I did everything right, I would get a promotion. She didn’t say what would happen if I screwed up but I knew it meant I was canned.

I tried to calmly explain to my crazy, whimsical boss that I’d never cut anyone’s hair before and I’d only ever sewed buttons. These boots looked remarkably complicated. They had several seams and straps. Tyra said not to worry. She’d done the first boot for me. I just needed to copy the finished product. As for the haircut, she found a magazine picture for me to copy. NO PROBLEM! Any idiot could do this. Well, crap.

The model whose hair I was cutting and whose boots I was sewing had been on two other cycles. She was a very sweet girl so I was thankful it was her. But that was the very reason (besides getting the axe) that I didn’t want to screw up. I sat down to dinner with the models and contemplated my fate over pizza.

One of the other models, who also happened to be film and television actor Alan Tudyk, saw the worry in my face and asked me what the problem was. I told him my plight. He offered me some help. He also worked at Scarecrow Video. I should come to his store that evening and he would rent me a movie which would give me the knowledge I need to successfully complete the job.

Flash forward. I made my way through the store looking for Alan. On my way, I saw a copy of Trainspotting. I hadn’t seen it in a long time and felt it was time to give it another viewing. I saw Alan at the back of the store and approached. He told me to wait there. A few minuted later, he returned with an unlabeled VHS tape. Fortunately, I thought, I still have a VCR. (This is true). I paid the man for the two movies, thanked him, and was on my way.

It was then that I awoke, so I have no idea what was on the video tape or whether or not I completed the tasks to Tyra’s satisfaction. But I do know I felt pretty confident when I left the store.

March 13, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

I’m Still Young!

This test proves it. Because that noise is damned annoying.

Train Horn

Created by Train Horn

I think this is the same sound they played on our hotel roof deck in Rome to keep the pigeons away. The pigeons didn’t seem bothered by it. They must have been old pigeons.

February 26, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary, Meme Crazy . . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Let the Sunshine In

This morning my New Age hippie mom sent me an email about the Age of Aquarius. Apparently, last night at 11:40 pm, the moon was in the 7th house and Jupiter aligned with Mars. This has happened before, of course, because the plants, they are always moving. But the fact that it is on February 13th-14th, while being entirely a coincidence, is still pretty cool for fans of the musical Hair (me and my mom) and for hippies in general (my mom). Love will steer the stars, ya’ll!

I had a really hard time finding any legitimate articles about this event. Every mention of it is on an asTROLOGy website. No real mention on the asTRONOmy side. But even if it doesn’t have any real world implications, I still think it’s neat.

February 14, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary, This is the End . . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

At Last!

Barack Obama is now officially the leader of our country. This has got to be the greatest day in Democracy since its inception. His speech was, as all his speeches are, incredibly moving and inspirational. Since then he and our lovely First Lady have been taking each step in the long day of festivities with such class and grace.

And how adorable/hilarious are Sasha and Malia? That whole family is just awesome. If they weren’t rightfully placed in the White House, I’d wish them to be my neighbors.

I’m alone in my house watching all of this, but I still clapped when that helicopter took Bush away from Washington and set him on his way back to Texas. Michelle was smiling pretty big at the time too. I wonder how hard it is for her to hold in the sassy things you know she is thinking.

To quote my second favorite president, Bill Pullman:

We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!

January 20, 2009
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

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