The Blouse gets good number at Hotel Utah and in celebration performs "Black Helicopters". Very Black.

When Great Girls Blouse moved to San Francisco, the first person we met and became friends with was Jeremy Hill.  It was our first visit to the open Mic at Café International and as its host Tyler pointed out, it was an unusually packed turnout.  Someone's guitar was malfunctioning and as a small group gathered to lend a hand we noticed a guy whip out a portable soldiering kit and start working on the troublesome guitar's electronics.  "Check out that guy with the soldiering gun!" Jason said approvingly, and he received a knowing nod in return.  That resourceful man was Jeremy Hill.

His music was ironic and piercingly self-aware while remaining emotionally accessible to all who heard.  His conversation was so open and frank as to put us at ease immediately.  I remember thinking that THIS was someone with whom I could be friends for life.  Unfortunately we did not have that long to know him, as he passed away on December 9^th 2007. 

His struggle with depression was well known in this community and I know that people here tried to reach him and make him see how important he was to us.  If we can take away some knowledge from suicide's tragic impact it should be to never stop trying to reach those who talk about taking their own lives.  The finality is too unacceptable, the loss is too great.  We will never recover from this vacancy in our lives, and never stop missing him and wishing we had more time to share with him again. 

 We will never forget Jeremy.

Please visit www.greatgirlsblouse.com to see our tribute to Jeremy Hill.

The Blouse, still groggy from the road, has finally finished rearranging our possessions until they fit into this tiny yet adorable apartment.  As we breathe in the city and stare into the beautiful night lights of San Francisco we realize that three cats is too many for this small yet quaint apartment space.  But we know that soon they will pass on towards the scratching post in the sky, leaving us with more room to sit down.

The night air is light and crisp, devoid of moisture.  Jay says it is the perfect weather in which to store his pipe tobacco, which is what really matters. 

We have played one open-mic since moving here, at a place called Bazaar Cafe.  It was pretty cool.  We will continue to push the limits of comfort and joy until we have fallen off of something,  preferably something very high, but if not I will be content to fall off my chair. 

P.S. Jay has fixed two doors since we moved into this small yet fragrant apartment.  The doors of perception, you ask?   No.  The sliding glass door, and its screen companion.  Stay tuned...

Sometimes things are better left unblogged.  That's what diaries are for, numbnuts. 

To Do List: 

take shower--sometime next week

pack for move to Cali

post angry blog about pop culture

think twice. remove blog

drink some more

look out window

floss teeth: top row ONLY

buy more movie tickets to terrible movies

plan new angry blog

rent Wierd Al Yankovich's all time video collection.

ahhhh. that's better.

Ever wonder whether or not to do what you always said you would do, tried to figure out whether you're doing it for the right reasons or because you're fresh out of other ideas, or decided that whether or not it's the right thing to do you're just going to do it anyway even if it's just so you can say you did it?

Me too.  That's why we're moving to California.  We've been very comfortably nestled and ensconced in Minneapolis for some time now, and it's a heart-breaking change to make.  Especially now that the 35W bridge disaster has just started to make us look like a BIG city.  But we figure, what the hell, might as well go for broke, truly end-of-the-line broke, flat on our asses broke.  None of this partially wounded or merely emotionally distressed stuff.  We want to go ALL THE WAY to the _________.   --still waiting to see what goes in that space...
So we'll keep you updated on how it all goes, whether it goes anywhere, or whether my knees go out.  Which they have assured me, they will.

Wish us luck. 

  Can one befriend oneself?  Can one blog upon one's own blog about oneself?  I am on a quest to unlock such locked doors of inquiry.  I wish to plumb the depths of knowledge heretofore unexplored.  I seek to query the seeing eye of Mystery and understand the painful truths hidden inside his flowing cape. 
Perhaps I have flown too high.  Like some Greek myth about that guy who flew too high. Like some uncared-about piece of knowledge forgotten since college and remaining un-remembered.  Unturned, a stone still concealing the wormy mishmash beneath.  Ahh, such are the magestic musings of a blog about oneself 

Someone interested in such a blog might say, "no, I'm no longer interested."  They would be wrong.  The internet, with it's great unwashed, undressed, perhaps dishevelled masses teaming behind it's grimy keyboards, pulsing through it's many entangled wirings: this internet cannot be "disinterested:".  Although it can all too often be redundant.  Much like this blog.  Which,  it seems upon reflection, has managed to find truth at last.  Can one blog about oneself?  Can one befriend oneself?  The answer is no.  That would be stupid.