From the town of Lincoln Nebraska with a sawed off .410 on my lap

I am in fucking Sterling, Colorado. Before I get down to brass tacks, thanks are in order. I owe unconditional gratitude to this guy:

Thank you, thank you Mr. The Boss, for getting me through Nebraska. Knowing I would be passing through this shit-basket of a state on my way to CO, I preemptively downloaded Nebraska, Mr. Bruce Springsteen's brilliant, criminally underrated album by the same name. Oh boy, was that a good idea. Holy shit is this album good. Without Bruce whispering sweet, hard bitten wisdoms in my ear, I don't think I would have made it. To start off with I only had two real cultural reference points for Nebraska. The first was Saddle Creek records, which despite having a few decent bands on it's roster is an overwhelmingly depressing entity. The second was the film Boys Don't Cry, which takes place in Nebraska and recounts the true story of the brutal rape and murder of Brandon Teena, a female to male transgendered person. I couldn't stop thinking about somewhere among all those corn fields and grubby houses some fucks killed this poor kid for being born with the wrong parts and having the audacity to live his life the way he wanted. I guess I was a bit biased off the bat. But anyway, my first sight upon entering Nebraska was a billboard that said "Depression is the #1 cause of suicide" and had a number for a suicide hotline. My second was a billboard with an ad for whiskey on it, and my third was a billboard with a number for an addiction treatment hotline. These were all within the first half a mile or so, not even. Nice. And then there was corn...endless corn. And cows. The saddest thing for me was that I kept thinking about how maybe a long time ago Nebraska was really pretty. There were prairies with tall grass and wild flowers and critters and stuff, and we mowed it all down and planted so. much. goddamn. corn. Then, as if divine providence really wanted to hammer in the somberness of this place, it started to rain. There was a grey blanket of clouds stretching for what seemed like hundreds of miles, but off in the distance you could see a sliver of pale pink sky. Beautiful, seashell pink. It was as if the sun was trying to escape Nebraska too. We saw two flipped semi trucks on the side of the road within 100 feet of each other. Sure enough, as soon as we crossed into Colorado the rain cleared up, like we'd finally outrun the grey and made it into that sliver of pink we'd been chasing for hours. Seriously, that was the most depressing place I have ever been. Not to mention the fact that Nebraska has voted Republican in every election since 1972. To quote my good friend Adam "I try to avoid Nebraska when I am hitch hiking, I tend to break out in handcuffs".  Yeah, that's pretty much the end of that chapter. 

In other non-Nebraska related news, I got the job I interviewed for! Yay for me! I start as soon as I get back to da Chi. Tomorrow I head to Boulder and then Steamboat Springs for a week of hopefully relaxation and not crippling boredom. 

the loneliest punk in Colorado,

Bebe Gunz

Rip diddle dip dip dip dip

So I turned 20 today. Woooooooot! Not really a milestone, although I do get to start complaining about them dern teenagers and their loud music and baggy pants. My grampa got me a bunch of gladioluses which is pretty awesome because not only are they the official flower of the month of August but they are also Morrissey's favorite flower. I don't really give a fuck about flowers but if you are gonna get me flowers, gladioluses are pretty much they way to go. Especially pink ones. I also got some $krilla which is always nice, and my little brother got me a giant book full of old newspaper comics. Not the kind of comics I usually read, but some of the art is pretty sweet and it is a still a nice, thoughtful gift. The fam took me out for all you can eat sushi and then ice cream. My bestest best friend in the whole world, Ritchie, came along which is awesome because I loves her and she is my favorite. I haven't gotten to hang out with her in a while and I missed her super so much so getting to see her pretty much made my birthday. Oh! Breaking news! I can now play three chords on the guitar, which is almost as many as I knew on the mandolin so I should be back to playing shows in a few months at the most. EXCITE!!! Guitar is actually a lot easier than mandolin so I should have a wider repertoire as well. Anyway, my birthday was a lot happier than I though it would be. Sorry if I have been sounding a bit Eeyore-ish in these posts. Gorsh, thanks fer noticin' me...

P.S- All you can eat sushi + ice cream + intolerance of lactose = me basically feeling like this:

Oh you've been in the house too long she said...

The last few days have been been pleasant. On Saturday I hung out with an old friend, and it was quite wholesome. It's nice to shake off the film of seediness I've been carrying around since I got back from NYC. Nothing quite like smoking weed in a garage with someone you used to date in 7th grade and then driving around listening to the Stones to bring out the warm 'n fuzzies. Sunday I went to the water park with my family which was pretty exhausting, save for when me and my little brother did karaoke. He did Livin' On a Prayer while I performed a rousing rendition of the feminist classic  Stand By Your Man. Because after all ladies, if you love him you'll forgive him, even though he's hard to understand. Just don't worry your pretty little heads about it. Ha. What a larf. Anyway, on Monday I managed to escape to Pilsen for the evening for a vegan dinner/show thingy. There were a bunch of awful noise bands playing so the hipsters sorta descended on our humble radical space. That kinda sucked. I didn't really go inside much so I can't give any sort of review of the show. I have issues with crowds so there has to be a real solid lineup for me to be able to tolerate them. I still had a good time though, I hung out outside and chain smoked with my friends. Yesterday me and my bestie-since-Kindergarten got a bunch of fancy foods (organic chips and spinich dip and stinky cheese and such) and went to see that new Julia Child movie. Seeing as how we are both pretty obsessed with Julia Child it rocked pretty hard. The theme music from the French Chef sounds like it should be the theme music for a cartoon about a man with a tiny mustache who's best friend is a shrimp. Afterwards I went back down to Pilsen for a womyn's group meeting but it appeared to have been cancelled so I hung out on the roof at Mt. Happy and ate cookie dough and chocolate cream cheesey stuff. It was pretty awesome. Today I registered for school. Good job, me. Anyway, all in all and all is well. Still suppressing the urge to go running for the shelter of my mother's little helper...but still kickin'

-Beeeebs 

Viva La Persistance

SO! I've managed to last a week in the fucking suburban wasteland that is Northbrook, IL. Frankly, I don't know how people do it. I mean, I did it at one point but A. I was miserable and B. I was high all the time. Also when I was in high school I mostly lived at my ex's place in Wheeling. It's like 10 minutes drive away but it's way more of a working class area, which makes a big difference. To me anyway, oi oi. So anyway, I've calmed down a lot. My sleeping is pretty much back to normal. I think a big part of it is a result of me having direct access to smokes again. I feel like such a tool having to ask my mom for money but if I don't smoke I'm fucking twitchy and nervy and irritable. Or at least more so than usual.  The initial feeling of indignity at having to live here is... improving, however slowly. A bunch of after school programs are hiring and that's where my job experience is, so my employment prospects are a lot better than I had expected. I should be out of here in no time. I spent the whole weekend in the city so I've been able to shake this whole "stuck in my parents basement" funk. AND I got my bike back from down there, so that's bolstered my spirits significantly as well. I missed that fuckin bike so much when I was in NYC, it's kinda ridiculous. On that note, SWEET GENTLE LORD SATAN does riding bikes in this town suck. Tonight I decided to go for a pleasant bike ride, and goddamn. The first problem, is that there is nothing to ride your bike TO. I got to Walgreen's and bought a pack of smokes and was sorta like...umm...now what? So I decided to ride around the side streets, just for fun likes. This is where our second problem arises: no one in Northbrook goes out part like 9:30 pm so there are NO GODDAMN STREETLIGHTS. It's totally not safe to ride in the street and the sidewalks are basically in pitch darkness. It's pretty nerve-wracking when you have no idea what kind of epic pot holes or felled branches lay ahead of you. Seriously, I felt more comfortable riding in the street in Chicago with cars wizzing past me, while steering with one hand and smoking a cigarette with the other. Drunk. Alright, in summation I am not quite as miserable as I was in my last post. Or at least I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It's more like the flickering last gasps of a flashlight when the batteries are about to die but hey, it's something.

Love and rockets,

Bebe