A Revival

Never before have people been more concerned with my well being than after my disappearance from the blog world. Sometimes I feel like my internet existence is more substantial than my real one. That’s no way to live. I’m a real girl! I’m 3-dimensional. And sometimes on really strange and difficult days when the moon is full in the sky I feel like I’m more dimensional than three.

And yet even though the internet world is so abstract, you can’t see me and I can’t see you. And my pictures and words don’t exist on anything concrete like paper, just invisible space, I still feel empowered, connected and illuminated with it. In this context I am Queen slash scholar on anything I feel like discussing/lying about. My blog philosophy is my biography. This is my only public account, my desperate attempt to not be forgotten.

And that’s why Postcard from Mars has been resurrected from the dead.

If politicians don’t destroy us in a nuclear hail storm and the internet still exists in our earths future I will have this virtual biography to account for my existence which will be grossly exaggerated and photo-shopped. Hurray!

The first of many updates from months past. Played a couple songs in an acoustic show in Las Vegas that my friend Stephanie put together. Very terrifying and in the end satisfying.

Gypsies and Truck Drivers

I had nothing but time and money to kill and an itch to scratch. So I packed up my new traveling companion who had only 43,000 miles on it (I added another 5,000) and I hit the road like a gypsy.

I stopped in a little city where the sun don’t set called The Vegas and visited mi amigo Stephanie, who moves like a jelly fish and used to drink a teaspoon of soy sauce before bedtime. Her roommate Mindy, who called me "Ash" and I liked that, came bearing gifts.

All along my trip I filled my car with gifts, collections from my travels and half an Asian market. My car got heavier. My soul got lighter and started to smell like Korea.

I’m in love with the open road. Nothing but dust and burning desert to distract me from finding things I’ve lost, like peace of mind. An abandoned highway and the red and orange of dusk gives me clarity from the jumble and routine of our modern day lives. I'd left behind the numbing of everyday, the red-yellow-green, the assault of irrelevance.

On the road the sunset is mine to own. I don’t have to share it with anyone else, except Earl that creepy truck driver who seriously gives me the willies. Even though Creepster McGee probably had some poor soul duct taped in his passenger seat, maybe he found my same clarity. And so someplace between Provo and Sin City Earl and I shared a fleeting and soon forgotten sunset.

Future Posts:

My Swine Flu Adventure 2009

I know you all have been curious about my where-abouts, definitley feening for an update on my life, your fix, because my lives details are a hot commodity. Postcard From Mars might as well be US Weekly. No? Not so much?

Well maybe some of you thought I caught the Swine Flu, or am in Mexico City in the trunk of a Caddilac full of cocaine stuffed toy dolls. Well dry your eyes I just took off with my new wheels on my first grand adventure, in which I'm calling "My Swine Flu Adventure 2009."

Made it to The Vegas, then to San Diego, went on my Swine Flu Cruise (Catalina and into International Pirate Waters) and now off through California... Hurray!

Lots of pictures and stories to come when my adventure comes to a close...but for now...

Homage to 2008

2008 wasn’t really full of all the accomplishments I had expected back with naivety in 2007. But that’s the beauty of life. It’s not scripted. Happiness and accomplishment are self-defined. We create our own paths and we write our own endings. And I imagine my path or my book will be marked with all the peculiarities that could only define me.

If I could write a brief synopsis, of a potential chapter out of a series from my life under the section “2008” it might go something like this:

There I was 365 days ago, ringing in 2008 on a Boeing 757, accelerating through tropical rain, away from tropical places, toward snowy places and the new year. As the flight attendant counted down to midnight I had wished we were actually counting forward, flying backwards in space and backwards in time, that I was actually spending the rest of 2008 in Kauai. But we can only move forwards.

Memories flash like the flicker of the big screen. There I am. Thom Yorke, Ray LaMontagne, Robert Redford, Luke Wilson. There all there in my 2008 synopsis, I doubt I’m on theirs. Las Vegas, San Francisco, Seattle, San Diego, Hollywood. The big screen flashes The Sundance Film Festival and I remember feeling like the center of the universe. 2008 gave birth to self-discovery. I discovered I love dancing funny. I discovered cheese is better than chocolate. I discovered Batman and that I am him.


(Thats my Bat mask.)

The American City

Through out American history there has always been a city that has exemplified the American spirit of the times. In the 18th century it was Boston, representing political radicalism. In the mid 19th century it was New York, the symbol of the melting pot. The 20th century Chicago, American dynamism. And today….our very own Las Vegas the symbol of our national character and aspirations. A city devoted entirely to entertainment! A city of billboards, of consumption, of mass production. They have even successfully mass produced Elvis. Where things are quick and ready to sell, like McDonalds, even marriage has a drive through window in The Vegas. It’s the American way!



So I spent a couple days in the American City. And Las Vegas, the “Kingdom of If” always convinces me, with its trickery, I was intended for something better. Where people roll the dice and hope to change a decade of bad breaks and an unhappy life with an eight. "Gimme an eight! Dang! Screw it how about some whiskey straight and that all you can eat seafood buffet for 9.99!"

Vegas the Goddess of Luck, with all its neon and glitz, was not smiling kindly on my friend Mikey on the roulette table. If only he wagered on red!

A few days down there gives me a false sense of importance. Oh boy but it feels kinda nice.

Went to L’atelier, Chef Robuchan's famous restaurant. We did the nine course Chefs tasting menu. It was incredible everything was like a painting.




Then I finally saw a Cirque du Soleiel show, “Ka.” I was shocked at how good it was. It was incredible! Collapsing stages and crazy monkey trapeze artists and falling sand. It was like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon meets Lord of the Rings slash Narnia. Except that it didn’t really have a story. But that didn't matter cuz you were too busy being like "Whoa."



In the Vegas you can always wear shades cuz the sun never sets in Vegas.

Viva Las Vegas

Sometimes I do things that afterwards I realize fall under the category of ridiculous.

I can now scratch off my checklist of Things I must do before I die:

-Sleep in my car
-Drive to Vegas at 1:30 at night
-Sleep at a truck stop

That’s right I’m living on the edge but mostly rationality abandoned Jennie and I Saturday night as we made plans to go to Vegas after the Band of Annuals show up in SLC. Jennie was like “I’m not even tired” (Though it was only nine PM). And I put forth my usually philosophy that you only live once. However, little convincing was necessary because we had already made up our minds…Viva Las Vegas. Well about the time I got to Fillmore my eyes started to burn and the road began a game of trickery where it danced in various directions and created all sorts of illusions. And I knew right then and there that I could never be a truck driver.

We ended up at the Sands otel (occasionally Motel as the M flickered back into position).


We were greeted by a belligerent couple who had just gotten into a bar fight. One fella about my age was missing his socks and shoes and his toe was a bloody mess. They shared their whole life story with us then offered the other bed for us to sleep in. We kindly refused. And decided that we would sleep a couple hours in the car. We pulled in front of Lori’s old condo and we drifted off to sleep. 15 minutes later I woke up to find my limbs were numb and my breath was visible. We tried to sleep but gave up on the idea entirely. Who knew St. George was so miserably cold at night?! We were back on the road again…



But again the road started to dance in front of my car and I struggled to stay on the path of its two-step. And that is how we ended up at the truck stop outside of Vegas. A quick nap turned into hours and hours of sleep, maybe some of the best sleep of my life.

Well we finally made it to Vegas. And we played and shopped and ate. And it turned into a great day and an even better story.

However I’m still curious, whatever happened to that poor boys socks and shoes?!