just when you thought things wouldn't work out...

The Stick To Your Guns album comes out in a few days.
"The Hope Division"

I just found out (though it should've been obvious) that not only is it being sold online and in Hot Topic stores, but Best Buy, Target and a number of other big chains will be carrying it as well.

Am I allowed to be this excited?
I'm not sure what I'm more anxious about: hearing these new songs from an incredible band, or being able to buy the album and know that I'm a part of it in some way.

Buy it. These guys worked hard, they deserve it.

dominating sticker-dom and breaching the merch barrier

It's been at least a year since I attempted to start creating She's in the Band merchandise by spray painting shirts in my backyard. You may see a few of them walking around the San Fernando and Antelope Valleys one day, but I doubt it. 

Today solidifies the first "real" merch SITB has ever had, and I'm pretty stoked about it.

So without further ado...

who wants one?!

A big huge shoutout and sloppy hug and kiss to Joey Engel, who designed the logo and helped me order them (because I am not exactly well-versed in the ways of the merch-world).

Let's make this viral! Put 'em on your cars, your books, your ukuleles!

ben folds rules my life.

I went with a good friend to see Ben Folds last week. This man never ceases to amaze me.

A Letter To My 12-Year-Old Self

 After reading the Pink Moss blog (www.pink-moss.com) I came across a project called "In My Daughter's Eyes" involving a plethora of letters written by women to their twelve-year-old-selves. Although I was much to late to submit my own, I figured I'd share mine with you all today.

Dear (barely) pre-pubescent, flat-chested me,

Let's not argue over over how in the world this letter is even possible, and get down to brass tax. There are things headed your way missy, and you need to start preparing yourself for them now.

First off, your boobs are coming. Actually, any day now. They won't gradually become present, they won't ease their way onto your body, they're going to sneak up and attack you like a ninja on a mission. Buy a bra and prepare yourself for some extra poundage and a life of mild back pain.

Next on the list, those cargo pants have got to go. Yes, I know they zip off into shorts. Yes, I know they were on sale at Old Navy. There's a reason for that. You look ridiculous. Also, since we're on the topic, in a few years when you get to high school if you ever put on that pair of white and black camouflage pants, I will take a personal day and come back there beat you with them.

Eventually, you're going to get into this thing called being "Goth". This is a trick. The sun is shining, the world is beautiful and you do not look good in black lipstick. Avoid this at all costs.

I don't want to expose too much, you've got some pretty interesting years ahead of you and I'd hate to spoil them, but here's a few things to remember: embrace things like the RX Bandits, ukuleles, electropop (I know you can't dance, and you don't get much better, but you're still allowed to have fun), eating carbs, playing basketball and crowdsurfing. Stay away from things like mushrooms (seriously, eventually your stomach will be able to take it but we've had some bad times), dairy (same concept), turtlenecks, Jamocha Yerba tea, Justin Beiber, and Smart Cars.

One day it will all make sense. You're a cool kid, but eventually you'll get the hang of it and realize that being a dork is really what works for you.

Your much cooler, much more proportionate, kickass older self.

P.S. Okay, I know we've been saying that we wanted to be Whitney Houston when we grew up since we were about five, but dude, trust me, it doesn't end well.

What the fuck is this thing on my leg?

After going back and reading a few of my blogs, I realize that even after four sessions, I have not updated at all on the progression of my beautiful leg-length tattoo. For those of you just tuning in it has been an incredible experience, and with many hours, a couple Valium and lots of money later, we are finally in the home stretch. I have one session left! Here's the progression for you crazy, crazy kids.

This is where it all started. About 
four hours of intense outlining, followed by hours, days even of total and complete leg-narcissism. I would miss my favorite TV shows to lovingly spread lotion across the branches. Though, so much love has a price, and it was the most painful experience I thought I'd ever have...or so I thought...


Session two was a lot easier to handle. A little over two hours and finally my tree actually started to look like, well, a tree! The legoism (leg+egoism) continued full force and I was constantly just itching (literally and figuratively) to get back into the shop and get more work done. As opposed to it's predecessor, after this session, I had minimal soreness and could walk perfectly fine.

AND SO THE COLOR BEGINS! This was definitely a fun, short session where everything really starting coming to life. I've always been a fan of shading over outlining, comparing it to a pleasant scratch and this was no exception. The colors for the flowers and greens were chosen (I got to avoid pink at all costs) and I was left just wishing we had done more.
I probably wouldn't have sung the same tune had I known what I was in for next...
THREE AND A HALF HOURS OF THE WORST PAIN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. I mean, look at that! Okay, okay, it's gorgeous and I love it, but here, let me blow something up for you...

THAT IS THE VERY BALL OF MY ANKLE, or the bottom of my fibula, if you want to get technical. Now, I'm a bigger girl, but no amount of bread is going to get me fat RIGHT THERE. There's nothing to it! Skin on bone with no mercy. For the first time in any of my body modifying history (and there has been so much) I shed a couple tears.

Oh, I didn't even tell you the worst part. Where as most tattoo and shading-familiar people will tell you, the most common shading needle to use is a size 8 or an 11 (I believe). That is what I've always been accustomed to. But Todd, in his infinite wisdom and possibly sadistic tendencies decided it would only be proper to use a 25 needle on me. The width of the tip of the gun itself is comparable to my two thumbs put together* and where I've always recognized shading as a pleasant, pleasurable experience, this has destroyed that world into a dystopian society of pain.

But, let's face it; it's gorgeous. The bigger the needle the faster the work gets done and the less money I spend. I'm in love with everything about this tattoo and now that it's so close to being finished I'm holding off on the last session until everything is completely healed. I'll miss my weekly visits to Studio City Tattoo, but I'm sure I'll have more work to bring back to the boys in due time.

If you're in the area, I implore you to go to SCT above anywhere else for all your tattooing and piercing needs. This is my third piece by Todd Townsend and I'm just as thrilled as ever with how it's turning out.


This weekend I decided to put on my Led Zeppelin record, and get full-on, balls-to-the-wall pretty...for a photoshoot with Danielle Morse (Front Focus Photography). After a day and a half of shooting (and running on 3 hours of sleep, hot air, and hopes and dreams) I think we managed to get some really really great shots in hopes of taking She's in the Band promotion to a whole new level. Also, seeing as, though I am built like one, I don't have any make-up or hair molding skills like most women seem to have, I called in the pros with Alexis McConnell to girl me up a bit.

All day Friday we spent scouting a location for our day shoot the following day, unfortunately by the time we found a suitable place, it was already past dark. Being the "adventurers" we are, we decided to trekk out to Agoura Hills, CA to check out some hiking trails...in the middle of the pitch black night. We brought flashlights. Needless to say, being a huge wuss, I stayed in the car and terrifyingly entertained the idea of the fact that this was how every horror movie I've ever seen played out.

After playing in the dark, we headed back to my house to tear apart my living room and design a set. We threw around at least twenty pairs of flip flops, old school toys, crayons and a manner of other things to design a fun, flirty, light shoot that came out fantastically. I snuck some pictures off of Dani's camera onto my cell phone.

The next morning we woke up bright and early at 7am to begrudgingly push me back into hair and makeup, and head out to Agoura Hills to finish our outdoor shoots. Let me tell you kids; BRING BUG REPELLENT. Alexis took a bee sting to the head like a champ.

All in all, the day went great. I think we got some really solid photos for promotion, and I got to spend a couple days with some great girls, and eating the best thai/chinese cuisine in the San Fernando Valley.

Stay tuned for pictures, coming soon!

touring (or lack thereof), and why it owns my soul.

In my last blog, I touched base on the idea of being so overwhelmingly passionate about something that for it to fall apart would mean you, as a person would fall apart. 

Oh yeah, that's real.
(And it's terrifying.)

I did a lot of thinking today about what I'm working towards, and why I want it. I want this album finished, first and foremost, for me. I want to hold it in my hands and be able to say, "This is me. This is what I've been doing. This is what I've put everything I have into and even if you don't like it or don't listen to it, it's still there and you can't take that away from me." 

But what I really want is simple: I want to tour.

My home, wherever I've called home at any given point in my life is nothing more than a pit stop to me. A few quick hours to sleep, shower, eat (maybe) and then I'm off to tackle another long list of things to do. I like that. I like being constantly on the move and busy and having some sort of schedule of events. 

I love touring. I haven't had too much experience with it, but I'm hooked. 

I've been with bands, stuck in towns we've never been in where we don't know anyone and just because some really cool kids dug the sound, brought us back to their house and gave us floors and couches to sleep on, warm showers, and homecooked meals (oh, that's right. I've met mothers!). I've been stuck on the side of the road, with hardly any money and a broken down car waiting for the next step: whatever it takes to get to the next gig.

I love it all.

I love sleeping in the van, and plugging in phones at the venues and camping and meeting new people and I just want to do it for as long as my body will let me. I want the long drives and the pictures and stories to go along with them. I want to take something with me from every place I ever go.

It's hard watching things constantly move around you when you feel like you're stuck in one place. The ASL sign for STUCK is two fingers against the front of your throat; how horribly accurate does that depict the feeling? Cutting off your air supply, losing all feeling.

Well, it's time for me to make this happen. I'm vowing that I will make sure that I spend years touring. As a performer, as a roadie, as a fucking merch girl. I want to see everything, and meet everyone.

What do you live for?