Chelsea Margaret

 So, in attempts to retain any kind of compostitional skills I may have, I’ve undergone a collage a day project.

Backtrack a little bit.

Bought this KILLER old scrapbook at Palouse Treasures. Which, for those of you who don’t know, is only the most random thrift store you’ll encounter. It’s tucked on the second floor of an old carpeting store, is run by Palouse Industries ( which provides jobs for the mentally disabled- meaning there is constant laughter in the back room, and always someone eager to help you carry out your purchases), and I’m pretty sure that every elderly person in Pullman donates to this place, because some of the things in there are so old and strange it’s unreal.

Needless to say, this is my absolute favorite place to shop.

Back to the story. Got this scrapbook for ten cents, full of unused, yellowed pages kept together by what seems to be a shoelace, and on the inside cover is four picture corners, and ” 3rd grade boys- St Emydines 1939″. No idea what St. Emydines was or is, and it kinda freaks me out that it’s totally blank, but no matter.

If all goes according to plan, I’ll have something to post everyday. As you can most likely see, I’m not always creating masterpieces ( some of these I flat out hate), but hopefully practice will make perfect this time.

 In other business….

the Rico’s gig is pretty much one of the funnest things I’ve been able to do in a really long time.

Last night, people were dancing! Dancing! At Rico’s! Granted, this fifty something woman with a few too martinis was the ring leader- the one to go prey upon the young ones and drag them onto the floor where she could spin them and point to the beat. Hilarious. But well meaning for sure.

Come to think of it, we had quite the crowd last night!

I finish singing, and sit down for an instrumental. Drinking my water. Minding my own business, when this huge, Samoan guy with dark sunglasses on and a handful of popcorn plops himself right next to me. Don’t really know what to do, so I keep looking at my lyrics like I’m studying for an exam or something. Introduces himself as Reuben. Oh wait, he introduces himself after the popcorn spills onto the floor when offering his hand to me.

I try to be nice. Drunk men may be my least favorite thing on the planet, especially when I can’t understand a word they’re saying over loud music, and they’re making somehat inappropriate gestures and then pointing to me. Like I can read this drunken sign language, and think yes, I would just love to drink beer with you, throw popcorn all over the place, and go home with you.

Right.

But unfortunately for me, I rarely let these sarcastic comments of mine escape in such situations, so I say thanks but no thanks, then point up to my boyfriend Andy. Who is sitting upstairs, watching this all happen and laughing histerically. Pretty sure everyone saw the trail of popcorn this guy left, and was laughing too.

Reuben then proceeds to sit upstairs, and bark and howl and yell indecipherable cheers up until, oh, two songs before the end of our set. Nice.

I must say, however, the sight of him throwing a handful of popcorn into the air, then tossing ing his head about in attempts to catch at least one piece in his mouth may have been the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Thank goodness the chairs are big enough for me to hide and laugh behind, because I was way beyond self control at that point.

Oh, and P.S., I think this was the first ever case where the barstaff had to cut someone off from popcorn. Yes, that really happened.

Latest collages……………..