I want my name written on the bathroom wall at Cheatham Street Warehouse in San Marcos, TX

How is THAT for a blog entry title? It's true. I played this kickbutt open mic down in San Marcos tonight at the Cheatham Street Warehouse. Susan had recommended it, and the host starts out with an admonition that everybody gets to listen to everybody else...i.e. shutup and listen. Nice.

Again, for the 2nd time this week, I was on holy musical ground, Cheatham being where some guy named George Strait had his first gigs, and Willie Nelson stops in. It is also where Terri Hendrix (hi, Lisa!) recorded one of her live albums. Good times.

It is ALSO where I had a great time in the bathroom. No, really. If you know me, you know public restrooms are pretty much things I avoid...but you walk in this one and people from all over have scrawled on the walls. Nice things about musicians, usually. Not the typical "Judy is a ho bag" (though I think I saw one of those, too). Across the top of one stall is a big Susan shout out. I laughed.

So everyone there was cool and the range of songs was great and the sound was fantastic and some nice guy who plays happy hour on Fridays said I could play a set sometime (er, like how about THIS Friday?).

And I really want someone to write my name on the bathroom wall one day.

Rehash

From my junior year poetry class reflection journal:

"Give up to grace." - Rumi

"Look at your eyes. They are small, but they see enormous things." - Rumi

"Move within, but don't move the way fear makes you move." - Rumi

Anything done out of inner fear is not authentic. I'm not talking about running away from a psycho killer -- that's pretty authentic. I think Rumi is talking about the fear we create in ourselves - the self-doubt, the shield of armor we put up to keep other people at bay. We humans are good at scenarios and imagining failure. That petrifies us. Most of this fear is unfounded, but people must do what they fear to discover this.

Birds of a Feather

Tonight I decided to take my chances at finding an open mic, because this room had been recommended by several people, and *everyone* who is anyone plays there. So I drive myself to UT campus and find free parking, which is in itself a boon. I set off a'walking, feeling pretty good about myself for navigating so well. And I am enjoying the weather, the trees, the low humidity...and hm. Something on my shoulder. A leaf? Probably. I brush. Wet. Uh oh. No...not now! Not for the first time in my life right now! Oh yes.

A bird has crapped on my shoulder. Let me lapse back into my love of words in all caps. A BIRD has CRAPPED on my SHOULDER. It's messy. I am in the middle of campus and I have no clue where the bathrooms are. I brought spare picks, a guitar strap, some strings...but silly me, I forgot to bring a spare shirt in case a BIRD CRAPS ON MY SHOULDER.

It took all my willpower not to turn around and walk back to my car in defeat. But no. I had made it that far. I had found FREE PARKING. I had nothing to do anyway, except laundry. Thankfully, the Cactus Cafe is located in the UT Student Union, where there are always bathrooms galore. I attempted to dab the offending poo away. It was so gross, but it missed my hair completely. And my hair kind of covered the offending splotch. Whatever.

The Cactus is a small room that has hosted everyone from Dar Williams to Shawn Colvin to Patty Griffin to the Chicks to Alison Krauss to...well, like I said...everyone. I got a fairly early slot in the lottery, and made my way up to the stage. It felt good. I'm no Shawn Colvin, but I tried not to let the history of the stage give me the creeps. I decided to explain what had happened walking to the open mic, in case anyone had seen the offending stain...it was also a good ice breaker. I got a round of applause for my bravery and a big "Welcome to Texas!" holler. Oh these Austinites are a friendly bunch.

Overall, it was a great night and heck. There will always be days where the bird craps all over ya (literally or not) -- whether it gets to you or not...is up to you.

Austin to Albuquerque in 11.5 hours

Power Plant.
Originally uploaded by Czech Girl.

And back again in 12. How does that work? Regardless of the time change, there is some sort of weird time-sucking warp around Lubbock that makes you want to DIE because you have been driving for 5 hours and it feels like 8 and you have 7 more to go will there EVER be ANYTHING more interesting to look at besides FIELDS my goodness. I like words in all caps.

My trip home was good. I had other family visiting from out of town as well (my reason for going back so soon after moving...as well as play at the Albuquerque Folk Festival yay), so I got the couch that, while it is in "the den," it is basically in a room open to every noise and distrubance this side of LA. Meaning: I did not sleep much. So while family is great and I had fun...I was pretty excited to get back to my own space where I can dictate my own music, TV channels, and wake-up time. Look at me, I've been on my own for 3 weeks and I'm Miss Independent, haha. (Kelly Clarkson just walked in and busted a phat note, I kid you not).

Mundane thought of the blog: I have no food and need to go to the store. Blah. Screw Miss Independent, hire me a personal chef.

I think I have decided...to forego the "real perfect awesome career job" for now, at LEAST the summer...and get a sluff-off job so I can work my gig mojo and network. Not like the perfect job is just waiting outside my door anyway. That's the City of Austin, wanting me to pay my $260.00 electric bill. Oh yeah. Screw first-month deposits and "set-up charges" too. As IF the person before me lived without electricity and as IF they had to do anything for that set-up charge except flip a switch. At least I get my deposit back. In a year. It's kind of like burying $200 under a tree in someone's backyard and telling them not to let you near it for 12 months. I call it the Forced Savings Plan, which is probably good for me.

Mess.

This has been my week, papers cluttering the floor while I practice the songs I know, re-discover things I wrote a year ago and never worked into the set, and write anew. Good times! I feel pretty lucky sometimes, that I have time to do the thing I enjoy most. When I'm not wallowing in fear and pity about being unemployed, that is. Hahahaha! Screw you, Society. I don't need your "social norms" and your "accrued debt."

The other day I needed a post office, and I had overheard someone say "I go to the PO on Manchaca all the time." Manchaca is like a block away...so I get in my car and start driving. Nothing. So I drive the other way for quite a while...nothing. I decide to turn around and Google a freaking post office in this town before going any further. I pull off into the very next driveway...and it's a post office. Sometimes things work out.

Wow, this entry is pretty lame. I need to pack so I can go to Albuquerque tomorrow. The sucky thing is I know I'm going to be out late tonight at a gig. But driving 12 hours is not something you tackle on 4 hours of sleep unless you're an idiot. So I'll just get a late start. Thank goodness for losing an hour!

"I want to act like a real girl..."

I think I am finally settling into this unemployment thing, haha. Let's review, shall we?

Week One in Austin: Settle. Unpack. Find important locations for food and coffee. Be confused.

Week Two: Look for jobs. Get sad when no one replies to applications. Sleep a lot. Watch stupid TV. Be mopey.

Week Three: Decide that's ok and play guitar all day long.

Well, I know we're only 2 days into Week Three, but I have done a dang fine job of practicing so far. Which makes sense, because it's good to be on top of one's game. One's aspired to game, that is.

I had ants in my cereal yesterday. ANTS. In my CEREAL. If you know me well, you know not to screw with my cereal. Apparently, in this bug laden paradise, you have to HERMETICALLY SEAL YOUR CEREAL. I threw out 3 kinds yesterday which made me so sad. I'm scared to open the Honey Nut Cheerios. I ate an English muffin for breakfast. Screw you, tiny ants. I'll hunt you down one by one. You'll never eat a honey bunched oat again.

Um what else? I get to go back to Albuquerque this weekend. I'm excited to drive a lot and then to see my family and my peeps and play a gig. And then drive a lot to get back. Maybe I'll get a job after that. One hopes. Gas is expensive.

Ants.

Saturdays.

Mmmmhmmm. Silly me. Of course a concert makes you happier! Always go to a concert when you feel down, except don't pay $70 for it only to sit in the back of Tingley Coliseum and have drunken concert-goers scream "PLAY FREEBIRD!!!" to Bob Dylan. Ahem. Pick something cheaper.

So I'm pretty much in love with Johnny Cash. I call him my "boyfriend from beyond." That's kind of weird. Actually, I don't call him that at all...I was trying to be witty in my blog and it came out creepy. ANYWAY. That man is like...one of the great American philosophers, and I'm not really talking about his songwriting. His songs are great, don't get me wrong. His autobiography, though...well, it's pretty powerful. Johnny Cash is the walking talking example of exactly what the human condition is. He's the bad side, the good side, the creative side, the religious side, the disappointing side...all in one. Which everyone is, but few are aware of it or can write about it. Reading "Cash" (such an appropriate title) is like sitting down with Johnny and having him tell you anecdotes about his life. It's not preachy...because once he's examined everything he's done in his life he can't be...but he's inspiring exactly BECAUSE he's not preachy. He did a lot of crappy stuff, but he lived a good life too. Also his baritone voice is just...well, it's just good.

Otherwise...I might have a GIG on Thursday but still, I am not going to talk about it because I think if I talk about it too much something will bite me in the butt. I'm trying to write songs. I need to practice more. TV is the devil. That is all.

Thursdays.

Well, I rediscovered how excellent Cherry Coke tastes today. That's about all I can say for the day, though.

I think I woke up cranky, and I think I should probably refrain from surfing the internet daily for new job postings, because when you find nothing all morning and you've had all the caffiene you can hold, it's just not good. So I remained cranky all afternoon. And THEN I bought a pint of Blue Bell ice cream at the grocery store because apparently, this brand is a big Southern thing and everyone loves it. And I got home, and unpacked my bags. And no ice cream. It didn't get bagged! Crudders. And then I felt bad cuz my rent check got cashed, and my bank account continued its steady downward decline with NO HOPE OF INCOME EVER SO HELP ME.

But this evening was good. I went to choir practice at church, and met a lot of nice people and sung a bit. I talked to a few people on the phone who also seemed to be having off days, so we all matched and made ourselves feel better. I went BACK to the grocery store, explained my plight, and claimed my rightful pint of mint chocolate chip.

I think I'm also slightly annoyed because this city is SO COOL and while there's a lot of cheap/free stuff to do...there's oh so much more stuff to do that costs money. Money I don't feel justified in spending at the moment. So I'm even more antsy to find a job. Gah. But I love the city skyline and the green-ness and the nice people and the accents. And the grid system. Thank goodness, because I'd be lost a lot more if it weren't for that. I did make an open mic last night and that went well. I hadn't played out since our last gig in Albuquerque. Hello, rust.

All right. I suppose I'll lay this day to rest and try again tomorrow. I get to see a concert tomorrow night. Perhaps that will turn things around.

You gotta stick up for yourself.

Hello. I love mooching internet. I will love it until someone figures out I am mooching and then sends a firebomb to my computer. Then I will cry. Until then...

I had a job interview today. It went ok. I say ok because the job itself sounds pretty cool...it fulfills my requirement of being a job with a "purpose." However, I think it has a little too MUCH purpose for me. I could not physically hide how uncomfortable I felt when the question arose: "Are you comfortable with working 50-80 hours a week?"

Expected answer from young, doe-eyed college gradute: "Yes! Let's Do It!"

Jana: "Erm, um...well, with the music thing...well, I'd do my best to um, make it work. And um, I can't really say right now how those schedules might conflict, so um, well...yes?"

So really, on the drive home I realized that while I wish this place of employment the best because they really do work for positive change in society...I am not the one to do it for them. I didn't move here to not have a life, you know? So that's that. I say they had better offer me the job so I can turn it down...otherwise I will just feel slighted, hehhehheh.

In other news, I am SO CONFIDENT (haha) that I will be employed eventually that I bought myself a ticket to see the Dixie Chicks in October. I had pre-sale access thanks to buying a CD at Target, and they are pretty much at the top of my "bands I have not seen yet and need to." The Chicks and U2 and Springsteen. I am weird. It gives me a little something to look forward to, and I am thrilled I am in a place that is on the tour stop this time.

On deck for the weekend: finding "The Lake." Oooooo.

All shook up like a quarter in a can...

Things I am noticing about this new locale (these are neither complaints nor praises for the most part, simply observations):

- The tortilla selection is...lacking. Why do they only have breakfast tacos here, you ask? I'll tell you why. It's because their tortillas are SMALL. They haven't caught on to "burrito size" and such yet.

- Salsa is the same. I found some ok stuff. But green chile will need more hunting, or perhaps importing.

- It's RAINING!!! Clouds? Grey sky? Huh?

- There is green stuff growing where I am used to seeing parched earth. This is new and strange to me.

- The Texas grocery chain of HEB pretty much rocks my socks. They have a fresh tortilla making stand (no matter how small they are) and a fresh sushi stand along with the usual suspects.

- Photos are coming soon, really. As soon as I remove the giant pile of boxes from my apartment. Except for one box, which will heretofore be known as "the coffee table."