Today's Daily Photo is from a Native American museum in Northern California. I think it will give me nightmares.

Today was thrifting, braving the mall to buy athletic shoes (we didn't know where else to go), and running errands. Then we cleaned, and cleaned, and cleaned the house, 'cause it was an absolute mess. I found mold not only in the sink, but in the dishwasher that was loaded with dirty dishes. I gagged more than once, and will have problems using our cutting board in the future since it was covered in fuzzy green sludge.

Off tonight to see some fantastic bands for three bucks at a warehouse near my house. From Monument To Masses, Dilute, and ENT are quite good in their mathy/instrumental ways.

Last night's date with America scared me. We chickened out and didn't go see Crossroads, but the suburban-freeway-eating-experience scarred me.

Some records are just made to cheer me up at work on a Friday.

Tonight, if we can talk ourselves into it, Guyball, Miss Rodeo America and myself are going on a date with America. We're going to go crazy and hit a suburban Outback Steakhouse, then go see Crossroads at a multi-plex somewhere. We'll stare in horror as Britney Spears shakes her bon bons on the screen while teenage couples in the audience feel each other up. We'll watch inexperienced recent high school graduates struggle trying to open a bottle of wine (even though we'll probably just order big glasses of Fosters). If you don't hear from me tomorrow, tell my family I love them. I don't know if I can survive this.

I've run the gamut of emotions today, from sleepy to aching, then from down to jolly. Luckily, I seem to be stuck on jolly for the time being. The Amscray show last night was a mess, but it was still enjoyable to see friends and some great bands. I must say though, Monument To Masses completely blew the entire room away. Sort of a political Mogwai/Fugazi fusion thing going on that impressed me song after song. We're lucky to have them coming from the East Bay. I'm excited to see them again.

I had something else to say, but listening to Royal City has melted it away.

MP3 of the week: The day Mark Linkous and David Lowery make an album together will be a very, very good day. For now, we'll just have to listen and love "Brides Of Neptune."

I fit a description. The drive up the coast on Friday was glorious. Clear weather, good lunch in Hopland (complete with berry pie), views and cliffs and fog and pretty clouds. As we turned off the highway just over the border, a mere two blocks from our destination, I got pulled over by the Oregon State Police.

The guy told me that my license plate light was out, and that's why he pulled me over. After taking my driver's license, Miss Rodeo America's ID, and my registration, he went back to his car. A few minutes passed, and then we heard him radio for backup. Did I have a warrant? Was my passenger a wanted fugitive? I had no idea why this was taking so long. After about ten minutes, another trooper pulled up behind me. So now I'm on this tiny rural street with two State troopers with lights flashing behind me, and this group of skater kids gathers across the street to watch. Trooper #1, Punch (I swear, that was his name), asked me to get out of the car, while Trooper #2 talked to Miss Rodeo America. "We have a problem here. There have been a lot of narcotics coming in from California, mostly methamphetamines, and I would like your permission to search your car" he says to me as I'm standing outside in the cold. "Do you have large amounts of cash in the car?" No. "Do you have stolen property in the car?" No. "Do you have an personal use amounts of marijuana, hashish, speed, or other narcotics in the car?" No. "Can I search your vehicle?" This is where I should have said no, but since I had nothing to hide, I let him go ahead. So he made Miss Rodeo America get out, took off his large trooper hat, and searched my car for a long, long time. Luckily they were nice about it, and didn't take anything or mess anything up really, but it was cold outside and a small crowd had gathered to watch. Finally he came back and said "you are free to go" and shook our hands, thanking us for our cooperation. What a nice way to start the trip, sheesh.

So we get to the house and freak out that you know, perhaps one of the other people driving down had some drugs on them, but there was no way to warn them. Luckily the rest of the weekend went without a hitch, police-raid wise that is.

The rest of the time we spent drinking, listening to music, drinking, playing cards, drinking, walking down to the beach, drinking, climbing the rocks along the coast, drinking, and watching Mystery Science Theater 3000 episodes. It was grand fun, and I took a slew of pictures. We even managed to find decent coffee, although I'm said to say we couldn't do the same for food. We all got drunk and walked down to the private beach at 1:00 am on Sunday night, playing the harmonica and doing general bonding things like saving each other from the waves and huddling up in a circle. A perfect way to end the trip. Yesterday we drove back the 400 mile stretch of US 101 through Northern California in the rain, jetted over the Golden Gate Bridge into San Francisco around 8:00, picked up a burrito, and found our way back home. I'm already looking forward to next year, but I can say I'm glad to see civilization again. Thanks Oregon!