04.20.17

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Well, it’s been probably four or five months since my last Waverly confession, and as guilty as that makes me feel, I’m also thiiiiiis much encouraged by it. No time (or, no time made) for blog posting seems to allude to a busy, event-filled, roller coaster ride.

That’s exactly what it’s been, what with my ownership of fifty jobs (hate it), my trip to NYC (didn’t love it), my brother recently tying the knot (still deciding on that one), and then my brother’s announcement five weeks later that they’re expecting (I’m putting that one off for another few years). I don’t remember the last time I ever paused my life for effect. Since 2013, it’s been one thing right after the other. I’m looking forward to getting to settle down for a little while, though, at least long enough to actually pass by the roses that I may or may not take a moment to stop and smell.

Probably most exciting about my last few weeks on this Rock is my wonderful new job with my wonderful new window view! Be envious. Today, we’re celebrating some accomplishments of one of our latest books that has just hit the WSJ, NYT, and USA Today Bestseller Lists. I’m giggling at my coworkers down below that are shooting a celebratory photo nearby our picnic benches, party hats and all. Just one bright moment today… Well, that, and a visit from my new office crush.

Tonight, it’s a little wine and some more of The Magicians (LOVE it). I’ve got friends that have a gig later on, but it’s already been a long week, and I’ve got this mini porcupine in my throat. Here’s to eviction.

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The Case of the Lost Phone 

📷: @lost_space_

Spent the last three days walking past this bad boy trying to track down my phone… Learned a few things along the way.

  1. College fever is a real thing,
  2. Spotify withdrawals are too.
  3. There’s always more art and production hiding from the naked eye,
  4. NEVER attempt the UT Austin campus on the Saturday of a home football game.
  5. Three days off the grid isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds 👌🏻

Note to self: Don’t lose the phone again. Also, learn to lockpick.

Accomplished Today, April 25th


One thing I’ve learned about accomplishing goals: 
You’ve got to be irritated enough with a state of incompletion in order to be motivated to work toward completion.

Since my return to WordPress early this year, I have had one thing on my to-do list that I’ve both dreaded and been excited about. My sister blog, “Shelf Rider”, is my book review blog that’s been in the works. Here I am, two months later, and I’ve FINALLY sat myself down to finish and post my review (happy dance!!). You can read it here.

I’m an avid reader. On average, I’ll down 3-4 books a month (sometimes finding myself lost in several books at once, I’m working on that). Book reviews, however, aren’t exactly my forte. Not because I can’t write them, just because I don’t particularly like to write. 

I’d just gotten tired of not having anything posted. 

It’s true in other aspects of my life. That pile of clothes at the foot of my bed doesn’t get put away until I’m tired of seeing it. The accumulation of books, jackets, and old event flyers doesn’t get cleaned out of my truck until I’m tired of digging for what I’m looking for. That trip to the grocery store doesn’t get made until I’m tired of having an incomplete stock of ingredients, or  until I’m tired of concocting dinner out of what’s left in the pantry or leftover in the freezer.

Am I right? A personal goal is just that, a “goal”, until a person is motivated enough to turn it into an “accomplishment”.

What are some goals you’ve accomplished after harrowing struggles with motivation? 

Jessica Jones Meets The Doctor

Okay, confession: I quickly wrote off “Jessica Jones” as just another lowish-budget Netflix production, and let it sit at the top of my Netflix home page for weeks. Without shame. No guilt felt. I haven’t exactly been impressed by the Netflix originals, other than “Sense 8″… that was a halfway decent series.

I’m a huge fan of Marvel Comics. More so, DC Comics (Batman will always be the better hero). Honestly, I’m a little surprised that I didn’t even give the “Jessica Jones” pilot a shot right off the get-go. I’m usually not that quick to judge something that I would usually have a good reason to have an interest in. I don’t know if it was the black and red theme of the cover image, or my subconscious reception of all the marketing that eventually just got on my nerves, or the pasty pale complection of Krysten Ritter making her crooked red smile stand out against her face. Forgive me, Jessica Jones.

Forgive me.

Three weeks ago, while hanging out with some friends, I sat in while they checked out the “Jessica Jones” pilot. It wasn’t anything special. The plot starts out as any typical detective story would – a couple comes to a private investigator and hires her to take their case. Jessica Jones has demons of her own, barely revealed in the pilot, so as to hook viewers into watching the rest of the series.

I wasn’t impressed.

This morning, while perusing Netflix, looking for something to occupy my Saturday morning binge shift, I stopped at “Jessica Jones”. Decided to watch Episode 2. The plot thickens. More questions are presented, less detail disclosed. Forty-five minutes later, I continued on to Episode 3.

Who shows up. Yes, Who. Who, himself, in the flesh, Who took me completely by surprise.

Don’t be fooled by this behind-the-scenes shot of Tennant and Ritter, though. This time, The Doctor isn’t here to negotiate with the aliens, save London from the Daleks, rescue a cruise ship from a larger-than-life parasite, or recruit a new companion. This time, The Doctor is the villain. And it’s hot.

Jessica Jones is a character that’s haunted by her past, by a man named Kilgrave who presumably can make a person do anything that he wants them to. Like mind control. Or sonic paper. Whichever sweetens your cup of tea.

Jessica’s experienced Kilgrave’s power first-hand, and has seen him exercise his ability on other people. She’s determined to fight him and stop him from hurting anyone else. Who other than David Tennant to play such a dark, mysterious role?

So far, through Episode 4, I’ve seen David Tennant on the screen a grand total of perhaps forty-five seconds. That is all. Therefore, pardon me while I excuse myself and anxiously binge watch to Who’s next appearance.

Sunday Morning Meditations


I don’t know that I’ve ever associated curiosity with adventures. “Curiosity”, to me, has always been associated with intelligence (or dead cats).

On the flip side, I’ve always thought of adventures being sparked by spontaneity, or restlessness, or a change of scenery. Suddenly, it occurs to me that curiosity could be a perfectly valid motivation for adventure.

Thinking back, my biggest adventures have been the product of some degree of curiosity. All my excurions back and forth through San Francisco and the Bay Area were products of musical curiosity. My first time through the Lake Tahoe area was to take advantage of an overnight trip consisting of music and beautiful scenery. Now, my plans to adventure into the East Coast area are partially defined by a historical curiosity.

I personally believe that every adventure is blessed. Especially if it is partnered with curiosity.

29 cents

That’s all that’s currently in my bank account.

Quite literally. This year’s been tough, but! I still have a roof and warm water. I don’t like to be cold.

Things I can do with 29 cents:

  1. Check how deep my tire tread is
  2. Host a coin spinning contest with 28 other people
  3. Buy 1 3/4 packages of Ramen
  4. Support a busking musician
  5. Ingeniously repair more than one wobbly table or chair
  6. Open a small savings account between the sofa cushions
  7. Come up with a list of things to do with petty change

Anything else you can think of that I perhaps missed?

Book Titles: Introduction

Well, it’s done. Last night, my buddy, Libre, and I debuted our acoustic project that’s been in the works forrrr… probably about four or five months, now. Am I glad to say that we’ve got the first show under our belts. I’m taking the opportunity to list a few notes-to-self for your insight and for my future reference, while my fingertips are still tender, sore, tingly, and peeling.

Things I (humbly) learned while playing my first public show in almost three years:

  1. NEVER practice guitar for three hours on a show day.
  2. If a photographer is going to be present, always iron your cardigan.
  3. Make extra efforts to actually strum above the sound hole and not above the fourth-to-last fret, so your guitar doesn’t look so much bigger than you, regardless of what size guitar Ed Sheeran plays.
  4. Grant more song introduction. When there’s a story behind the story, tell the story before telling the story. This also helps to boost nervousness. Oh, wait…
  5. Break down and be unafraid of wearing semi-dark eye shadow on show days.
  6. If another band’s equipment (i.e. stands, pedals, sheet music) is in front of you, they won’t bite you if you carefully move it over.
  7. Always give a shout-out to the soundman. Should’ve learned this one a long time ago.
  8. Keep a spare Ironman mask in your gig bag to hang on the drums behind you.

Libre and I have worked together on music projects before, and writing together has always come easy to us. He’s got a musical background in, like, everything, and can come up with lyrics and melodies very quickly. Works out for me, because I’m the worst at lyrics… My strong point is writing music. Our style for this particular project thus far has turned out to be somewhat of an acoustic folk/blues/soul, with hints of r&b and hip hop to complement Libre’s other explorative interests.

Our set list:

  1. Never Rain12592697_1731659190395973_6397010092852954167_n
  2. In A Coffeeshop
  3. Waiting In Vain (Bob Marley)
  4. The Distance (Oliver James)
  5. 16 Years (The Griswolds)
  6. Drive (Incubus)

 

The idea for the band name was actually a contribution from the Nixster. She had an idea for a band that would write songs based on literary characters, themes, or ideas, and would call itself, “Book Titles”. The band name stuck, but to be honest, there hasn’t been many literary references written into the music yet. Libre and I were handed our first gig before we had much of anything written. Rin Tin Tiger, a folk rock band from San Francisco, came through town and were also supported by The Morning Drive, a band from Fresno/San Luis Obispo/San Jose/wherever else those guys come from… and Book Titles was privileged to open the show.

Much love and thanks to the very talented Arthur Robinson, for snapping these memories. Find him at http://www.robinsonsart.com/.

Next time up: Cats vs. Dogs: A Benefit for No Kill Shelters.

Now, THAT’s gonna be a doggone good show.

With Great Courage…

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via @pegandawl

No, no, it’s not a “Spiderman” post. That phrase is just the first thing that came crossed my slightly nerdy mind.

Lately, my battles have been fought making sure all my bases were covered in case of staggering losses. It’s who I am, how I was raised: pay your bills, save a chunk, then be happy with what’s left. Nothing wrong with that – unless it stresses you so much that you can’t actually be happy with what you’ve got left.

I’m completely spoiled by living on my own. There’s just me.

It’s nice…

Very nice.

The challenges come when I find myself anxious to do something extraordinary. Sometimes it’s buying an overpriced concert ticket, then spending all the gas and half the day driving to the grounds, then splurging on garlic fries and t-shirts. Sometimes it’s buying the latest iPhone, or treating myself with a new instrument, or flying to Texas for an outrageous music festival, or picking up the latest Fossil watch. And I’m guilty! A lot of this is material.

Moving across the country? That’s an experience, so many new places, new people, new music, new food! This has been the source of my anxiety. While I find myself too careful, clingy to my community, attached to family, comfortable in what I’ve made for myself these two years in California, Jean-Paul Sartre couldn’t have said it better.

Each day, we are given new life, in order that we might live abundantly. We are given too many good things to enjoy. I personally believe that an abundant life is valuable enough to risk it, “once in a while”.

Short-Leashed

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There are countless roses to stop and smell. Each day is a new rose garden, every happening a new rose.

Roses have never really been my favorite. Before you catch your breath, let me clarify: I am woman (if you’re around long enough, I will roar), and I DO very much love a good rose from a good man. What I mean to say is that I’ve always been more partial to wildflowers. Wildflowers are exactly that – wild. They can grow and flourish anywhere.

My little dog, Blu, like me, tends to be a lot more like a wildflower than a rose. Blu always anxiously anticipates what’s up the road, just ahead. The Mister and I like to hike on days off or walk the neighborhood in the late afternoon while the sun goes down, and taking Blu along usually proves to be quite the endeavor. She hasn’t exactly learned to “heel,” and to be frank, I’m not sure I have a problem with that. Blu tugs on her leash wanting to see what’s next, smell what’s ahead, arrive at wherever it is we seem to be going…. Unless she’s short-leashed, Blu remains six feet ahead of us at all times.

I have a mile-long bucketlist. It makes me instinctively tug at my leash. Living in California these last two years has widened my horizons, and while I have lived, really lived happily, I’m anxious for what’s next.

Here’s to enjoying the wildflowers wherever they may bloom.

Nearly 24 Years Have Passed.

Nobody is quite “old”, until they are quite dead.

Leaving home for the first time really teaches a person a thing or two about appreciation for surroundings, whether it’s the people, family, and friends around you, or cash flow and job opportunities available to you, or most importantly, the music and art scenes alive and waiting for you. Coming from Texas into California, I have experienced a livelihood very different from what I was raised in (as I’m sure can be said of nearly every Texas-California transplant).

It’s been two lovely years, and my only regret is that I didn’t actively catalog where my feet have traversed, what my ears have heard, what my eyes have beheld, what my fork has lifted, where my thoughts have perused… As I am sitting here contemplating the fact that 8,645 days have been lived by yours truly, I am thinking about how many new things I will possibly be able to accomplish in the next 8,645 days. I believe wholeheartedly that I have experienced more in the last two years of my life than I have in the entire 23.67 years of my existence.

Thus begins the pattern of my existence. The Waverly that comes with every new Dawn.