Click here to read a Dallas Morning News story on Thanksgiving Dinner at the Texas Embassy Cantina in London. Thom Jackson, general manager, was my neighbor at Railroad Studios lofts in Dallas for about 5 years - great guy. Also, the Texas Embassy makes the best margarita I ever had in England and they make great authentic Tex-Mex food with fresh ingredients. Very good salsa.

I went to have my teeth cleaned on Monday, which is always very nice. The exam room features a floor-to-ceiling window and looks out onto the parking area and lots of trees. In a small tree outside the window, they have hung a couple bird feeders and it's always fun to see them. When I went in, I took my camera and snapped a photo for Dallas Diorama. The doctor said I needed to put a bird in the photo as there were none when I snapped it, and I said "yes, I think I'll photoshop a bird into the image, something exotic. Perhaps a macaw." He said that actually, they'd had quite a few small parakeets and other birds that had to be pets (or escapees) come and feed there, and that once he'd seen a very large and obviously very tropical bird chowing down. I said then that decided it: I would photoshop in feral canaries. I said that the pivotal moment in western civilization would be us coming up with the feral canary concept. People will remember where they were when they first heard of feral canaries and will order the memories of their life events by feral-canary-era and pre-feral-canary-era.

See. Aren't you glad you never have to meet me in person?

Oh, I confronted someone today, and they turned out to be the wife of a sports superstar (she didn't tell me - I looked her up online afterward). I'm glad I didn't parse my harangue in the potty language I was longing to set afoot (as her lawyer budget may be slightly higher than my own), but I'm still glad I griped at her - it was the right thing to do. And there's more where that came from.

New piece of jewelry I made last night. I've finally set up a jewelry blog so I don't have to bore everyone over here with my jewelry obsession. It's over at the link just below Dallas Diorama at the left.

I've got to go out soon with my camera and snap pics of the Christmas lights. Tonight I felt like driving and just tooled up the tollway and saw some splendid lights.

I saw some spectacular lights in Austin Saturday night, but alas, did not have my camera along.

Niece and nephew are coming over Friday night and we will decorate the Christmas tree. I'll post photos, because you're going to love it - it's a little odd, but very cool...

"Three Thing" MeMe
I was tagged by Kim over at Something To Say with "Three Thing MeMe".

Three things that scare me:
* Sudden loud unexpected noises - being startled usually results in me emitting a bark like that of a small dog - it's embarrassing, but what can I do? People should't scare the wound-up lady
* The loss of freedom and personal rights
* Out-of-control bureaucracy

Three people who make me laugh:
* Tam - View from the Porch
* Erin - the immaculate equestrian and fellow hypomaniac
* Dick & Kelly - OK - I know they make 4, but consider them an entity since they're a couple

Three things I love:
* Music - any style as long as it's good music
* Color
* Making funky jewelry

Three things I hate:
* Out-of-control bureaucracy (yup, this one's so big I had to bring it up again)
* Smug people who sit around judging other people, especially the ones who feel self satisfied and make a big production of saying who is "going to hell."
* (This group overlaps the last one) People who use threats of hell and Armageddon to try to terrify other people into making professions of faith, rather than trusting there is any intellectual reason to make that profession of faith. Yup, I hate that - it annoys the shit out of me, actually.

Three things I don't understand:
* Why more people haven't bothered to read that wee little book "The Prince" by Machiavelli, which is a roadmap for dominating people on a mass scale - then they'd understand how they are manipulated by all "leaders." I'm not suggesting anarchy is a good ideer, but people need to know that "their guy" and "their party" in D.C. is not on their side - they are there for themselves alone. That's how it works. No one in that town is "for the people." We exist for them. Or, at least, all the rest of you do. Except for that bit about a third of my income...*ahem*
* Bullies
* Not flossing - gosh - how do people stand their own bad breath? I can go a few days without flossing, but over time, I feel like my teeth are furry. My braces just about did me in because they made flossing nigh to impossible.

Three things on my desk:
* Dad's 1st place horseshoe trophy from this year's country fair
* A container of little yellow birds
* my Canon Rebel XT

Three things I'm doing right now:
* Let the doglet out once more
* go to bed and read
* go to sleep

Three things I want to do before I die:
* See my wonderful niece grow up to have the independence to pursue her dreams in life (right now it's to be a veterinarian) and to see her happy
* Same for my nephew, only he'll probably invent some new form of music, if he keeps going in the same direction - he's quite the little composer at a ripe old 4 years
* Maybe learn to ride horses, something like that

Three things I can do:
* Stay up all night and sleep all day
* needle-woven beadwork with teeny-tiny beads and no glasses on
* I can cook rather well.

Three things I can't do:
* father a child
* I can't seem to have fewer than 3 purses sitting around the house at one time
* willingly stay in a place with bad music - it depresses me and gives me the twitchy urge to run to the stage and show them how it's done

Three things you should listen to:
* Your parents - even if you will ignore their advice, you should at least consider it. That way it's not a surprise later on when they say they told you so
* Villa-Lobos' divine harmonica concerto. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
* your intuition

Three things you should never listen to:
* Fanatics (unless they are an Imogen Heap fanatic - those people are all right!)
* negative people who look for the dark cloud above every silver lining
* politicians

Three things I'd like to learn:
* html
* chemical processes behind the miracle of cookery
* to be a better seamstress

Three favourite foods:
* My mom's chicken croquettes
* My Grandma Bertie's buttermilk biscuits and gravy
* My Grandma Smith's everything - how did she make plain old green beans taste like a symphony? What a woman!

Three beverages I drink regularly:
* water
* unsweetened iced tea with no lemon - like I like my men: bitter
* bucks' almond steamer with whipped cream

Three TV shows/Books I watched/read as a kid:
* Beverly Hillbillies (was watching them when I found out Elvis died)
* Sanford & Son - I learned alot about decorating from Redd Foxx
* Nancy Drew series - the books, never the tv show

Three blogger friends that I am going to tag:
Meg (when you get time, when your show is over) at Not a Woman of Few Words
HollyB over at Holly's Histrionics
Tony at Blah Blah Blog
OR... Your Name Here.

[There are some superb photos of Immi's Dallas show over here ]

Saturday I awoke still giddy from the glory that was Imogen Heap's sublime concert in Dallas the night before. I got out of bed, all toasty-holiday-happy, and got on the computer. I blogged a mile-long entry about that show, and then I looked on her tour roster on her MySpace page. Hmm. Austin Saturday night. It's not that far - just about 200 miles exactly from my front door to downtown Austin... Hmm.

I looked online and saw I could have flown down for $111, which is not so bad, but then would have been the car-hiring and I would have had to remain in Austin until 8AM. Hmm. I like the book I'm reading, but not that much. Plus, I hate flying. Anyway. I went to the site for La Zona Rosa and found there were still tickets left, and for a mere $27 I could have one of my very own. I decided to buy the ticket before I made up my mind to go, entirely. I thought at least my options were open that way.

I asked brother-in-law if it made me weird, retarded and stalkerish if I went to see her in Austin. He said no, that I would be a stalker if I went to Phoenix to see her. In comments, someone this weekend has called me a groupie and another comment called me a dead-head. Fair enough! I'm laughing at that.

Then I realized that all this time I've been craving a weekend in just pajamas, what I've really needed was a dose of spontenaity. I decided to go and got all gussied up. I decided I would rock the dress-over-jeans look that is so bohemian and so right-now, and I wore a red & white Indian frock with embroidery around the neckline. I asked husband if I looked like George and Ringo in their Ashram phase, did I look like a guru? He assured me I didn't. I wore heels, though not spike and not sandals. I had zippers on my jacket pockets and carried everything I needed in my pockets so no bag was necessary - here's to simplicity.

I loaded up the car with tunes and a bottle of water and an iced tea, gassed up and was on the road before 5pm. Showtime was 9. The drive down was pleasant, and I listened to The Eraser, Thom Yorke's [Radiohead] cd which came out & I bought in July, but just peeled the plastic off a week ago. I never changed the cd - this one floors me and I recommend it highly. More on that another time.

The last time I went to La Zona Rosa was 14 years ago and then it was a Mexican Restaurant. Now it's opened out into a warehouse area that is the central concert venue in the back, basically a huge metal shed. Austin was warm, too. People were at the concert in shorts and sandals. At one point, I saw water misters spraying over the shed area. Indoors. Great. I could feel my hair sucking it up and curling for its very life. I was destined to be a white girl guru with an afro. By the time I arrived, the capacity 1200 venue was sold out, and I was relieved I bothered to buy my ticket online. People were hanging out in front trying to buy tickets off other people. Too bad I didn't buy 2 tickets and make some of my money back for the trip.

Levi Weaver played again but was plagued with technical difficulties and didn't do the Radiohead cover this time. Then came Kid Beyond, a beatbox guy who did some amazing stuff with digital looping. A lot of the crowd was there specifically to see him, and they went wild for his stuff.

Since this venue was standing room only, the vibe was completely different from the more manicured and refined Dallas setting of McFarlin Auditorium. Imogen seemed to enjoy both shows equally, but I think she very much was buoyed by the energy of Austin's large audience dancing along with her to her superb music rather than sitting politely. It was incredible. I'm so glad I went, but next time I'm buying a couple bottles of water and bulldozing my way up to the edge of the stage early, rather than trawling around for little nooks to see beyond the tall people convention.

I talked again to the girl at the merchandise table and she asked me to come back and talk to her some more when people weren't at the table. At some point when Kid Beyond was playing, I came back to her and the photographer Ryan Obermeyer was there. We had a conversation and I got to view close-up the wondrous engineering marvel of his black feather mohawk. I asked if he ever slept in the feathers, because it would be a shame to wake up with wonky feathers, and he said he had and that it did make them wonky. He was very interesting, funny and charming and wearing a pair of pin-striped white baseball pants. I like someone with more fashion guts than I have, and he had them in spades. Then again, someone with a mohawk is never saying "don't look at me." He asked me if I was familiar with local hotels, and I said the only one I'd stayed in was the nearby Hilton, but laughingly said that I have a moral outrage about sending money to Paris' family these days. Nice guy. I asked him how he came to work with Imogen and he told me that story. I expected someone like him would be aloof and inaccessible, and I find he quite the opposite - he's a nice guy. Ryan's also a brilliant artist.

Immi's set seemed identical to Friday night's except that she had no difficulty with the equipment this time. As a result of the more seamless transitions between songs, there were not so many little moments of chattiness from the prior evening, which seemed to make the experience warmer rather than uncomfortable. Friday night it almost seemed as if she might return from her computer with a tray of teacups and cookies for everyone.

The Dallas audience was more average-to-high-style and freshly scrubbed, whereas there seemed a much greater cross-section of Austin humanity in attendance Saturday night. There were quite a few Suicide-Girl types, loads of people with facial hardware, and--inexplicably--there were loads of little sorority girl types. This show had more older people than the Dallas show, and I didn't feel such an antiquity then. People in Austin seem more apt to have their own style aesthetic, and for people-watching, this was probably the best show I've ever seen, other than any show by The Cramps. I'm still baffled by the idea of people wearing strappy spike-heeled sandals to a show where they are mashed up in a huge crowd of people. I'll bet there were toe injuries, is all I'm sayin'. Yes, this should carbon-date me as having punk-rock-era street cred.

Having talked to the lovely girl at the merchandise table over time, I felt pretty comfortable with her. Before I even bought the Austin ticket, I knew from the previous night that it was extremely unlikely there would be a chance to meet Imogen, so I'd sort of let go of that aspiration altogether. Imogen began her final song at midnight, and a 3-hour drive home lay ahead of me. I knew if I waited to try and meet Imogen again, it would probably be 1:00 or 1:30 before I even got out of town, so I asked the merch table girl if she'd give the necklace to Immi for me. I had my business card in the little drawstring pouch with the necklace, with a little note of thanks for the music written on it, and I handed it over. I hope she gets it, and I hope she likes it, but there it is. I made a nice gesture, and it goes where it goes.

I'm so glad I got to see both shows, I'm feeling rejuvenated, and now I'm ready to make some more jewelry. Tra-la-la!

I am SO going to Austin.

Ok. Imogen Heap show from November 24 2006
Dallas, McFarlin Auditorium on the SMU Campus

As you know, with my musical training/obsession - I'm something of a music fan. Many concerts in my life I expected to be the ultimate show but left feeling disappointed. Then there were the shows that hit me over the head and planted themselves as benchmark performances in my mind (Neil Young/Sonic Youth/Social Distortion in Dallas in 1991 comes to mind). This show, along with Dead Can Dance's Spirit tour in 1997 stands as a time when I had the highest expectation and the artist excelled even that. I'm so happy when I'm not disappointed.

I arrived at the venue at about 20 minutes until 8:00 - show time with 2 opening acts. I was kind of surprised because there were long lines to get in as a phalanx of police officers were screening everyone before they entered the building. They swept everyone with the metal detector wands and looked in all handbags and rucksacks.

Imogen came out and personally announced the first two performers, which was a very nice touch. She was wearing a retro new-wave skirt with bunched down white boots and stockings, a jacket and a hat - what a cool chick! This made the entire evening feel much more intimate and conversational --that she was the first and the last person on stage.

First guy came out and played guitar and sang (sorry -didn't catch his name, but I'm sure it's on her MySpace page). He's a young singer/songwriter who also played double-bass and French horn in support of her during her set. The next guy was a musician from Dallas named Levi Weaver, who lives and performs in Birmingham England. Levi was a clever guy, and the audience chuckled heartily as he made self-deprecating quips during little technical glitches. He used digital loops of tracks and in that way accompanied himself to a superb cover of Radiohead's Idioteque. Lots of people stood and applauded that one.

When Imogen came out, she came down the aisle from the back of the auditorium with a remote-miked organ on a strap like a guitar and started singing and playing. After about a minute, she stopped and said "this is the point where I have to go on stage because the loop isn't working." Everyone laughed and cheered. The thing about this type of setup involving lots of computers looping multiple tracks is that things will mess up on occasion. I think it was probably her conversational ease that made the audience so patient and comfortable with all this - in fact, my brother in law said he thought that enhanced the performance in a way - it was very spontaneous and not an over-produced eerily slick production like everything else you see these days. I liked the fact that she was re-routing the cables herself between equipment, all the while chatting about how it was funny that things can be perfect in sound check and then go haywire the minute you step on stage and that the equipment was determined to show the many ways it can malfunction. I was surprised no tech rushed on stage to fix it all while she stood there, and that was exactly how I would have done it - myself.

The stage was really neat - the percussionist had a tiny trap-set and lots of other instruments. Immi had a transparent acrylic baby grand piano holding some of her keyboards and computer. When she was offstage, I could see the screensaver on her computer reflected in the upturned piano lid, which was swagged with flowers and fairy lights.

She was wearing ballerina flats and a lovely skirt and corset made of a not-quite-red-but-more-watermelon-y matte brocade, lime green lacing on the back of the corset. The skirt was beautiful and would flare out when she danced and spun, many ruffles of lime-green petticoat peeking out from underneath. Her hair was backcombed into a nimbus festooned with a mohawk spray of red and white feathers. Something on her face sparkled. She was beautiful, almost other-worldly.

Ryan Obermeyer was in the audience - he's done lots of fantastical photos of Immi including the image of her with the rabbit and the video featured below. He was in the audience, bald, save a mohawk of black feathers. Check out his site - I LOVE his photography - dreamlike. Remarkable.

After the first song was successfully deployed, Imogen walked around her setup and played little fragments on all the keyboards to demonstrate what each was for. She said of one little keyboard "this is my parrot" and it repeated "this is my parrot" about 10 times until she hit a button. It was very cute, and it's fun to see someone so technically adept who turns computers into instruments to please the ear.

The music was superb. About half the songs, the other 3 guys accompanied her onstage. It was beautiful, sparkling, bright and warm. Her voice is a remarkable instrument in itself showing tremendous breadth in both range and motility. The improvisational passages of her music can be baffling in their magnificence - she probably is a master at music theory and understands and uses all the relationships of tonality. I can't say any one song was a bright spot, as they all were superb. However, Hide and Seek, first song of the encore, was marvelous and excelled the spine-tingling original recording. Goodnight and Go was a delight, and she danced so beautifully. The quiet songs with just her on piano were touching and lovely, and that's how she closed the show--with the final track from Speak For Yourself--a quiet and melancholy song about parting. Fitting.

Absolutely one of my favorite concerts ever. I'm actually tempted to go online and see if she's sold out for Zona Rosa in Austin tonight. Would love to see her again. Update: Zona Rosa show is not sold out... Hmm...

Before the show, I confirmed with the house manager that Immi would come to the merchandise table after the show. THIS was the true Josie Grossie moment for me: apparently about 150 other people had the same ideer, all of them about half my age (or less), and I decided it was a no-go, that it was simply not meant to be- too chaotic. We milled about and got back in line and I bought a second t-shirt and after that, we just left. Walking to the car, I could see another throng of humanity clustered around her tour bus, so I knew she'd have to run that gauntlet before she even made it back in the venue, so, wise choice to leave.

For one nightmarish instant after the show I said "maybe I'll just head on home." The HORROR! Never thought I'd see the day I'd like to go home early. After all, it was only 10 until midnight. Old fogeyism may be catching up with your humble narrator. One crappy comment from my 9-years-younger sister was all it took, and then I was up for it. Peer pressure. We met back over at Lee Harvey's and sat at a picnic table by a fire pit and talked about the evening, how beautiful it was. I ran into former neighbors from lofts I've lived in and it was good to not feel a complete stranger at my former local pub.

I'm going to email Imogen's myspace page and send .jpgs of the necklace and ask if she'd like it--if I could send it to her, but I dunno. I made it for her, worked every bit of glass on the torch with her in mind, and it would have been neat to give it to her, but things work out how they work out. Whatever. Nothing could dampen how great an evening it was, and maybe, just maybe, I've postponed for a moment one of my musical idols seeing what a colossal dork I am. I'm calling that a win/win.

OK, I'm home and totally wiped out. I'll add to this post when I wake up at 10 or noon, or so.

The show was glorious-- one of my best shows ever. See you in a bit...

...and a couple more pics.

Yes, I got a little sleep last night, amazingly.
No, I haven't peed myself yet, but I might at any moment. WIGGLE! Seriously, I'm wagging like a dog right now. My *giddy* mode is in overdrive.

Ok, I made loads more beads than I needed for this necklace, but I needed lots of color in the palettte because she's such a vibrant person, and of course, the Thai Hill Tribe silver butterflies were a must. I made a little dome in fine (.999) silver and stamped "why'd you have to be so cute" on it, which is a line from Goodnight & Go, the video I just posted.

Now I'm taking the doglet for walkies and then I'll get ready and then I'll go for sushi (I'll try not to sit by any disgruntled KGB) and then off to the venue.

I got the cutest scarlet velvet jacket for tonight and I'll wear black stockings with red fishnets over them and that should blend with the really LOUD pair of Fluevogs I'll wear. *bliss*

I really really rilly hope I get to meet her and have my groupie moment, practically middle-aged and fawning over a dreamy artist. Ever see Never Been Kissed with Drew Barrymore? I told my sister I feel like I'm having a Josie Grossie moment. I've never been so star struck. Silly me.

Film at eleven.

[This is a hypomanic moment. Could you tell?]

Why'd you have to be so cute?

Immi's Goodnight and Go video. YAY! 4 hours to go.

I just put a load of beads into the kiln to anneal, and then I'll have some raw stuff to work with. Yay.
Maybe I'll post a necklace photo here during the day on Friday.

To my utter delight, the day at last has arrived when Imogen Heap will perform in Dallas. Excited is not a big enough word. I'm all wiggly and giddy and about to drop my transmission. I'm going to bed now. May be up about noon. May not be able to sleep. *bliss*

I'm grateful for too many things to name them all. I hope everyone has a nice time with loved ones, good food and glorious daytime napping. Heaven!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

8:30 AM addendum:
You know, I typed this post before I went to bed a little before 1 AM, but I want to add something.

I'm very grateful for the community we have here in blog. Of course I have my friends and work and creative imperative and family that keep my days full, but blog really is the amusement I treasure that keeps me tethered to an idea of community that knows no boundaries. I started my blog in 2002 and only posted sporadically as inspiration would strike, but more than a year ago I worried that I was languishing creatively and I committed to myself to blog daily to have something creative to show for each day. Now, though, this is not simply me tapping the old plastic in my fuzzy slippers and tossing it out into the ether never to be seen again--you wonderful people respond and when necessary commiserate and indeed make this a community. I love the conversational aspects of the comment section, and I appreciate all of you who participate in that forum.

Through this I've conversed with people who share my passions for music and glass bead making and fiber arts and books and popular culture, and I've discovered much life-enriching stuff through many of you, so thanks for the recommended publications and music and creative references. Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for the information. Thanks for being here. Thank you for your blogs - they amuse me and I often tell you so.

Not so terribly long ago, people in my family would travel from Arkansas at harvest time out to California to fruit tramp. They would pick fruit all summer, following the harvest up or down the coast, and then head back home. Sort of Grapes-of-Wrath-ish, only maybe not so classy. As a result, flotsam-esque bits of the family branched off and stayed in California and Washington, and I now have some relatives out there. So the trips to California morphed over time from an economic imperative into a familial custom.

There was an old joke that said if you see a car heading toward California with a mattress strapped to the roof, it's an Okie (Oklahoman). However, if there's a mattress on the roof and bare feet sticking out one or more of the windows, it's an Arkie. Yeah, that's how we roll.

Anyway, a great-aunt of mine was named Inez, and she was a bit of a fruit-bat, and would ride back and forth on the California trip with whomever was heading out that way. Nezzie, as she was called, had a strange compulsion. When the group would stop to eat along the way, she would ignore the people at her own table and sit, raptly focusing on the conversation in the booth or table behind hers. She was so obsessive that she would neglect to eat her own food. When they'd get back out on the road, Nezzie would proceed to regale the family with the gossip she'd heard about these random strangers. Invariably she'd cry because she was famished and no one felt sorry for her.

Anyway, for all of you who come here daily and don't comment, I think of you as my Nezzies. Whether you're enjoying the onlooker slow-down aspects of my crash-in-slow-motion life, or if you chuckle wryly, nod appreciatively and think you simply don't have anything to add to the discourse, thanks for stopping by and thanks for reading my blog, and remember to eat something or you'll be hungry later on, and we're not stopping again!

Once upon a time in Dallas... [bad taste alert]

The mining ship Red Dwarf has run out of curry powder and so they time travel back to 20th century earth to get some, and blunder into a Dallas scene on a certain occasion. The episode is Tikka To Ride, and one of my all-time favorites of this sublimely silly, well-written series.