What Happens in Portland…

1. I’m back from a trip I took about a week and a half ago to Portland for this thing called SongFight! Live. I did my own tiny set for a mildly smily-but-challenging crowd. They were a bit more chatty than I’m used to, requiring me to bring out the emotional pyrotechnics and stage pizzaz. I’d give my performance a solid 6 out of 10.

2. Videos were made of this performance  and I put a couple of them on G+. You can find them then if you’re just DYING to see them. Otherwise, maybe I’ll post myself singing and playing music some other day.

3. I also sat in with someone and played Mysterious Organ, was in three-ish other bands on various instruments. and participated in the live fight wearing a green mask. There were glow sticks.


4. However, I probably caught Airline Hospitality Flu on the way up there. I did not know it at the time, and mistook the illness for a hellish evening of food poisoning that kicked off violent night shakes and sweating fever-chills with weird cold-y fatigue symptoms during the day. I felt gut wrenching guilt over other people’s (probably) unrelated colds, and obsession over germs I figured I’d certainly sprinkled willy-nilly over each shared meal. And I accidentally left a charming parasol behind in my hotel; although it had Random Chinese Characters on it. So in retrospect, perhaps I dodged a cultural insensitivity bullet.

5. All-in-all, it was a little hotelzo-hectic, and there were a few other really emo things that went down that are more diary-than-blog worthy. And they CERTAINLY, *CERTAINLY* aren’t social media worthy in my opinion. But there’s really no reason I should still be a wreck because there was lots of Nice. Yet I am still somehow moody and fragile and there’s also probably no Vitamin B left in my body–add to this the lunar landing modules are being trashed again by the Travelling Minstrels in Space and we all KNOW what THAT means …….

6. I’m going to BlogathonATX in September but I still need a ticket. I need to get geared up for this. I am also rather vigorously working on incidental and accompaniment music for a friend’s musical, and on my own Next Steps.

7. Anyway, this is my demeanor during and now after the trip. And I’m NOT in good driving mode anymore … off my game, so fellow Austinites are now trying to pick me off in this Automotive Darwinism thing we have going. Portland driving is very cerebral, motorists take the time to exchange meaningful eyerolls and fraught glances that could mean anything at all. And I wish I was used to the blind inconsiderate-ness of the driving back home yet, but I’m really angry still (I’ll tell my Highway Story later).

8. I don’t know how to act on social media anymore, that’s been utterly destroyed. I told a story on Twitter about a Thing that happened to me in Portland. EPIC saga of a man yelling at his companion … who then cleverly stole his keys while his back was turned! So I ended up being the person from out of town talking about people I don’t know behind their backs on the Internet. But I think I was just trying this ‘People of Wal-Mart’ style of “journalism” on to see if it worked. Why? Who cares? Does this have anything meaningful to do with my Portland experience? Maybe I am being too hard on myself and it was mildly clever entertainment. But did it do ANYTHING to edify or change my narrative? Should I have talked about what was REALLY going on?

What DID really happen in Portland and … in the last few years even, and why can’t I just DEAL? Why is this trip the mental situation, a Vest Factory come to a head? I played some music there. I had some interactions. I took a few photos. But, life is not a Wes Anderson film, and my head is not a pashmina to be wrapped around an elephant in the tastefully lit room.



9. I think it’s just going to take me a while to sort out my feelings.



But ultimately I can change and learn and adapt if I feel safe and can breathe. This is what I figured out.

10.   So I thought a lot in Portland and it turns out I’m not nearly as adept at subtlety or subtext as I thought I was. Nutshell–I know I didn’t fit in, but damn I over-tried. But it was Song Fight, so I ALWAYS try just a smidge too hard anyhow. And I’m usually overthinking what maybe probably isn’t an epic fail? Unless it was. Except it really wasn’t..? You know, or not. Hell, I don’t know. 



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What Happens in Portland…

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