Look what the Storque brought!

Remember a while back when I published the best shots from my photo shoot? Well, they were for an article that came out today on Etsy under their Storque section. After all that worrying about making my face look so so pretty, they chose a picture that features my mid-section... which is still pretty hot so I'm trying not to take it personally. Heh. Thanks to both Etsy and Esty seller flyingrhymes who put this whole shebang together. I feel all official and stuff. Validated. Love me.

Cheese

I don't photograph well. It's not an opinion. It's a fact supported with hard evidence. By studying a myriad of bad photos of myself, I've learned that I should tilt my head back a little. Otherwise, schnoz central. My nose doesn't look that big in real life but with the right lighting, it's schnoz-tastic. Plus, I get these weird neck wrinkles. Also, I shouldn't smile with my mouth open as my chompers are huge. Anyway, here are some of my favorite fuck-ups from the photo shoot along with one I feel came out particularly well. You'll hear more about what this photo shoot was for but the basic premise is that it might be on Etsy in reference to those tea towels.

It's like a four-year-old when you tell them to smile. I look so airbrushed too.



I'm not entirely positive what was going on here but clearly, that owl needs a good talking to. I'm telling him what's what.



Well, this one is kind of awesome. And extremely dorky.



Good lord.



What the hell? You might want to click this one just to see what's happening with my eyes. Classic Cristina.


This one, I like. We all deserve at least one good picture.

...get it?

Tonight, I came across my notes from mixing The Heated EP. This post may only be for super-fans but if you click the photos, you can read the notes. Some are pretty informative.

Watch this

If you stopped paying attention after two minutes, that's the internet's fault. Enjoy, suckas.

Hand's what's for dinner

My dream journal is still kicking. I thought I'd share one I had a few weeks ago.

Here is the dream: My right hand has been cloned and I am eating it for dinner. It has been served up on a plate and I am amused by it. I smack this fake hand across my thigh. I am wearing jeans. My wife also has her hand on a plate (the left one as she is left handed) but doesn't seem amused or interested. We were not given knives, only forks so the only part I'm able to eat is the palm. Finally, I am provided with a knife but by that point, I'm over the whole thing and am only able to eat the top joint of my pinkie before I become thoroughly un-appetized.

What does that mean?

Also, my guitar has been fixed and The Heated is about to make a big, happy announcement. Soon. Not today. Curious?

Bribed By Blackberries

We climbed to the top. We watched the sunset.


Do you know Nevada City? It's on the way to Reno. I spend a bit of time there due to some in-law family members and friends residing in this pleasant town. Last time I was there was New Year's Eve at Cooper's bar. There was the most convincing Creedence Clearwater Revival cover band that has ever existed. Hands down the best cover band I've seen in Nevada City (out of the five I've seen). It was freezing cold and no one cared for my fake moustache. Sigh.

This time, I was talked into going by the prospect of going blackberry picking. Now, I'm almost a through and through city girl but I've spent a bit of time on a farm due to the Environmental Studies major and three years of my childhood spent in Ojai on a few acres of avocado trees.

Pickin's were slim this season as it hasn't rained pretty much all year. We finally hit a good patch and Gail and I employed a two-woman system where I would go in deep, braving the brambles and push the branches towards her with my stick. Ingenious. And it's only my second time berry picking. Blackberry crumble was made from the fruits of our labor and it was so good, I had it for breakfast and then for lunch-dessert the next day.



This is off topic but: last night before I fell asleep I was thinking about Pearl Jam's Even Flow video. You know, the one where it's a live performance in a theatre and Mr. Vedder scales the balcony, gets that intensly weird look on his face then drops like a dead man to the waiting arms of the crowd below. Then when I got into my car today to move it for street cleaning, guess which song was on. Is that weird? These things happen to me all the time. A useless intuition, to be sure, but intuition nonetheless.

Zzzzzzs

I've had a hard time falling asleep this week, which is unusual. Normally if I'm going to have insomnia, it will be the type where I wake up in the middle of the night and have anxious thoughts until I fall back asleep. But this week it's been all about lying awake for hours until my body finally gives up. The reason why may be the dorkiest reason ever. I've finally done something that I've been telling myself (and everyone else around me) I should do for a long time. I created a dream journal and I've been excited to get new material.

There's been an element of self-mocking whenever I speak of this dream journal but the embarrassing truth is that this isn't even my first one. I'm a big writer but I wouldn't call them journals. I would call them disjointed thoughts written down for possible song use. But years ago, I used to keep a dream journal. I'm far better at recording events than making sense of them and dreams kind of make sense of events for you so when I read back through this journal, more than any other, I have a sense of who I was at that age and what I was going through.

Recently my wife brought home a small blank journal that she received as a free gift from a vendor. She'd had a choice between a journal and a tote bag. She choose wisely as we have twenty tote bags. I already have a regular journal going but it's hard to not write in a fresh one when it's just sitting there, the blank pages giving me that look like, "come be all crazy here." I realized that if I made this my dream journal I could start writing in it right away so I slapped a cover on it last Sunday, when I was dorking out with many creative projects (such as a wooden moustache) and decided to start recording what my brain thinks about when I sleep.

When I wake up in the middle of the night it is not because of anxiety. Sure, I have anxious thoughts but I have them every waking second so that's not noteworthy. I think the reason I wake up is because of Vina, the rottweiler. You see, Vina used to wake up randomly and bark her thunderous bark for no reason at about three or four in the morning. Eight years of waking up every night kind of made it a habit. She also used to wake me up with her disgusting, obsessive bed licking. Since she was deaf, it wasn't like I could just yell at her to stop. Instead I'd smack her with my pillow then make rude hand gestures. But she didn't sleep on my side of the bed so I'd have to lean over my wife and do this sweeping, pillow smack so that everyone in the room could be awake. I like sharing.

In case you were wondering

I'm not embarassed

Ok, maybe I'm a little embarassed to admit this but I love those stupid air-dancing hippie looking things. I know that they're lame ok, but just look at them dance.

Dance like the wind, my long-legged friends.

So of course, I also loved this and wanted to share it with you.