I lose and win.

Week #1 off: Success.

Waved good-bye to another friend. Two in one summer. Europe has taken this one. D.C., the other.

Drove to Mt. Hood to rescue a dog. Fell in love with both dog and Mt. Hood. Had to say good-bye to both.

Hiked up Rattlesnake Ridge. Re-fell in love with Washington. It's been here all along.

Cocorosie. Glorious. S- and I went and every time we hang out, I'm reminded of how much I love her. She's a keeper.

I let them go.

Timing. I'm sorry that it did not work in our favor. Sometimes I wish that we could be friends. At this point it's entirely inappropriate. What would we say? What bond exists? Nothing to say, no bond. I'm different and I can't seem to remember who I was with you. Fragments. It's rather surreal and dreamy. I do hope that you're well.

It all will fall, fall right into place.

What happens when you catch sight of your trash and realize that you have become the exact person you spent endless nights praying you would never become?

What do you do when you walk away feeling completely content about the fact that you are the person whom you spent endless nights praying you would never become?

Not So Sure

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1993883,00.html?hpt=C2

This article worries me. First off, I want to say that I believe that the consumption and exploitation of animals is morally wrong, environmentally damaging, and unhealthy. At the same time, I fear that soy is becoming too trendy and haphazardly viewed as a flawless, healthy alternative. The mass production of soybeans is causing environmental problems and the consumption of soybeans is raising health questions as well. Perhaps it's the better option to eating meat, but it's not the best. Eating flesh no longer seems natural or spiritually acceptable to me, but neither does eating processed foods (on a natural level, anyway). I'm not claiming to be either guru or chef, nor am I claiming to never consume soy-based products, but I think that it would be more beneficial to the healthfulness of humankind to present less processed, and economically accessible options for those transitioning into an animal-free diet.

I doubt that a pound of this new fake-meat product will be cheaper than a pound of chicken. Just as Kindles isolate certain economic classes from text, oftentimes vegan dining isolates certain economic classes from healthy food. In order to successfully advocate a vegan diet it must be accessible to every single person, regardless of income level. Health should not depend upon one's daily wages. Creating flavorful and filling vegan dishes does not have to depend upon a person's income level. Creativity with vegetables (fresh or frozen) and herbs (fresh or dried) and a departure from a traditional meat-based diet mentality is a much better way to present a vegan diet. Fake meat products are more of a splurge (check out the sodium) and are fine to use on occasion, but I don't think that they are to be used as a full time replacement. A plant-based diet does not mean a soy-based diet. We need to educate those who are interested about how raw and unprocessed foods can be used to create delicious, low-cost, and hearty meals. It does not need to taste or feel like meat in order for it to be be "good food."

"What has confounded fake-meat producers for years is the texture problem. Before an animal is killed, its flesh essentially marinates, for all the years that the animal lives, in the rich biological stew that we call blood: a fecund bath of oxygen, hormones, sugars and plasma. Vegan foods like tofu, tempeh (fermented soy) and seitan (wheat gluten) don't have the benefit of sloshing around in something so complex as blood before they go onto your plate. So how do you create fleshy, muscley texture without blood?"

The texture issue is certainly valid, but again suggesting that eating "fake meat" that tastes and feels like real meat is 100% good for us carries hazards too. Perhaps faux meat should be viewed as a crutch for those in transition and as a treat for those who have been vegetarian for a while.

Consuming in vitro meat products sounds disgusting and terrifying. I neither want to base my diet around something that has been grown in a petri dish, nor churned about in a giant tub and processed through a series of machinery. I want to eat of what the soil has provided. Maybe I'm being too closed-minded and optimistic, but I think that moving away from a meat-based diet, authentic or fake, is the best option.

This is what I did this weekend. I'm jealous of me.

Shabazz Palaces

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros

Broken Social Scene

LCD Soundsystem

Pavement

Japandroids

No Age

Camera Obscura

MGMT

Ween

And these are just the highlights. Others include when someone fell through the roof of a Porta-John; when J-, A- and I met three friendly people from San Francisco; and when we hung out in a dome (erected just for the weekend by festival goers [the kind one would find on a playground] with...people. This year was as fun as last year, and even more so in retrospect. J- and I didn't party (what else do I call it?) as much as everyone else. I guess we're getting old. We arrived at 1:30 A.M. on Friday night, put the tent up and went to bed around 3. At 4 there were cars driving around and I remember a guy honking and yelling, "Get the fuuuck up! It's the first night! Get outta your tents! Come on!" It sort of quieted down around 6 A.M., per usual.

J- and I met up with his friend and his friend's friend on Saturday. Generalization that I am willing to scribble into cyber-space: boys are easier to hang out with than women. I was terrified of guys when I was in high-school. I should have been terrified of women.

Broken Social Scene played that day and it was perfect. They were magic and I feel lucky to have seen them perform live. J-, A- and I hung out that night -the only night that we "walked around"- and had a great time. One night of that was enough for me.

The best shows this weekend were: Broken Social Scene, MGMT, LCD, The Tallest Man on Earth, and Japandroids. It was a mix of perfect mood music, fun dance music, loud rock music and everything was encompassing. I don't know how to not sound trite, but god it's a fun and inspiring experience!

Prepare to decode.

I realized this weekend that I am a dirty, rotten music snob. And so we must go back in time...

MGMT is playing "The Handshake." A drunk girl, DG, is telling her friend what the title of the song is.

DG: "I think this song is called 'Horses,' or has horses in it. But I'm sure there are horses somewhere in it." She points to his shirt, on which there are two majestic, galloping horses from the 90s.

Drunk Girl's Friend, DGF: "Are you sure?" He looks over at me and shakes his head.

Me (bitch), MB: "It's not."

Drunk Bro, DB, to DGF and DG: "This is off their new album, isn't it?"

MB to DGF and DB: "No it's not..."

They gabbed throughout most of the show about taking Molly, marrying a stranger at the campsite the night before ("It was done by a legit minister"), and about how they could use Vodka to chase Captain Morgan. To be fair, there have been many times when I was a rambling drunkard, but good heavens, I don't understand why one would go to a music festival and not listen to the fucking music! They only showed excitement when the radio-hits were played. I was indignant. J- was furious, especially with DB (partly because he tried to make a move on me), and nearly created a scene with DB. Luckily, DB was too drunk to notice that J-was mocking him and not partying with him.

I am a bad person. Judge me all you want, secret reader.

I'm tired of typing so I will end on this note: I think that all faithful listeners of The End should be banned from Sasquatch. The End...I mean...dammit.

Can't wait for year three!

Go ahead, give me an "F" and make my day.

I painted tonight and for the first time I didn't care about the specifics of what I was painting. It's in process and I don't care about what it is or what it will or will not be. I have no strict plan. I moved my fingers and the brush around without being critical. I freed myself. No one watched.

I don't like what it is, but that's okay because it isn't anything and I can manipulate it until I die. No one will grade me. No one will judge me. It's my idea and I don't have to explain it.

If it's bad, I can submit it to MOBA.

Taste the Rainbow

It took preparing for a trip to Florida to prove to me that I have plenty of summer clothes. Black has been the dominant shade for the past, oh, four months and I have come to love it. I was sure that my summer was going to be a dark one, but I couldn't see black passing in Boca Grande. Reading over the hotel's dress-code made me reconsider my lack of color (it also made me gag): "April 5, 2010 to June 2010, gentlemen should wear dress slacks and collared shirts for dinner. A jacket or tie is not required. Ladies apparel should always be comparable to the gentlemen such as blouses, skirts or slacks. Jeans, shorts or tank tops are not permitted for dinner;" "Whites required;" "Resort casual..."

Anyway, there is no denying that this calls for color:

And this too:

And so, I was forced to do laundry. I popped the quarters and what I uncovered was a treasure trove of surprising splashes of colors and pastels. I was shocked by the profusion of cheerful "island wear" hanging on my shower-curtain rod. Yellow! Turquoise! Pink! Airy, white blouses and skirts! My wardrobe isn't gloomy after all!

Watch out Boca and watch out summer!