a place for zinesters - writers and readers
Reading: Green Wake #10 (IGN Comics), Telegram #24, The Day They H-Bombed Los Angeles
Listening to: The Queen Is Dead, new Matt Skiba & The Sekrets song
Drinking: Twining's raspberry, one of my favorite teas w/e w/e i'm devoid of culture~
Pondering: running away to California with Heather, my next 47 zines
March 14 and it was 80 degrees in Detroit today. Days like this it's like "omg wtf why do i even live in michigan what is the fucking point ffffff srsly" and I'm listening to this Matt Skiba song like my life depends on it and Heather, illustrator extraordinaire and one of my favorite people in the universe, is going through shit and I really just want to pack the both of us up and move to California and they can work for Fat Wreck Chords and I can write and we can kvetch about the price of everything together.
They're actually farting along on their zine though (first zine ever) and I'm sort of just sitting here watching Hawthorne Heights videos and basically rolling around on the floor sobbing because I can't get over how perfect this band is sometimes and yeaaaaaaaaah. Welcome to the illustrious life of julia eff, it's really not as glamorous as I build it up to be.
(But seriously, they play the same if they're playing to 3,000 people or 30. Watching their old videos from the huge tours they were on 'back in the day', nothing's changed except their age. I just bought tickets to the second Stripped Down To The Bone tour and I'm so ridiculously excited I can't even handle it. Yeah, it seems like most zine people only get this excited about bands that have way more street cred, but fuck it, I love them. I will make zines about them that nobody will read and I don't care, I'm only trying to express my love.)
And speaking of zines...
Chicago Zine Fest went great! I surprisingly did not die, fall off of anything, or get (too godawful) lost. I did have terrible social anxiety for the first two days I was there, but then by the time the actual "big day" of the Fest came around I'd mostly shaken it. Just in time to leave town! As usual. It was great though--meeting everyone I've read for years, the people that inspired me to do this or try that or helped lift me out of depression, the people I've traded hundreds of emails and letters and cards with was absolutely mindblowing. And then, the biggest surprise/awesome moment of all, at the end of the fest Fight Boredom Distro wanted to buy up 10 copies of my new title (post here)...but I didn't have 10 copies left! Wut wut! I sold them what I had left, but OMG. I didn't anticipate that it would go that well, especially considering I didn't have a table...
And I made friends, which was the part I was mostly worried about. Due to aforementioned terrible social anxiety, I don't really interact well IRL--which is why I love internet and penpals so much. But I did actually meet people, and I did not die. So yeah, go me?
But now that I'm back in the Motor City, holed up in my basement apartment, drinking tea, texting my friends, plotting where I'm going from here, I can't wait for it to be Zine Fest time again. Maybe next year I'll have a table with one of those cute tablecloths everybody else has. And a little box shaped like a coffin for my minizines. And stickers. And somebody to watch my stuff so I can go to workshops. And a real suitcase so I'm not trying to hump six backpacks through the Chicago bus system...again.
I'm going to go dig through my GIANT BOX OF NEW READING MATERIAL now and continue to brainstorm wacky title/cover combinations for this compilation of miscellaneous writing crap I'm working on.
May you forever have tricks up your sleeve,