back in the saddle

so i apologize for the melodramatics. to illustrate my seriously unbalanced chemistry, i'll share with you all that i have just had fantastic days. i went to my classes. i had rehearsals. i sang my ass off. i had good sleep. i sang some more. i wrote some music. i transcribed some tunes. i watched some great television. i played with my dog. i listened to donny hathaway. i watered my plants. i got two new pairs of shoes in the mail. i took some pictures. and mostly i sang sang sang. if i appear high strung, tell me to take a minute and hit some high notes and i'll shut the fuck up, i promise.

another weekend

new things

i love spending money. it's a problem. this week i really outdid myself...two new pairs of glasses and a new leg. i justified it by reminding myself that after my recent insurance debacles, i only had to spend $1275 on the leg instead of $11,000. saving that much money can really improve a person's mood, but in my case it inspires more spending.

that being said, it's my birthday in less than a week, so i can consider these early birthday presents...or i can think of them as necessary biological accessories. i suppose that is the more appropriate designation.

fighting in circles

i hate fighting with people i love. i hate the struggle of knowing how i feel and trying to be the kind of person who sees another point of view and think it's just as valid as mine. because in reality nobody ever thinks anyone else's point of view is as valid as their own, especially when they are in the middle of an argument. i hate not knowing where the line is between making sense and sounding like a maniacal fool. i hate going around in circles and hearing a point made two hours after the beginning of the fight that was made in the first two seconds of the fight but somehow means something completely different and no longer makes sense. i hate being afraid i'm going to cross the line and really hurt one of the people i love most in the whole world but part of me keeps pushing and pushing just to finally get to that point. i hate feeling like i'm a mean, awful, ugly ogre but at the same time feeling like i'm being horribly, terribly wronged.

i hate fighting with people i love.

singing

i like to sing and sometimes i feel good about it. thursday kicked much ass and although there was no mr. big i got good vibes and the band was amazing. i met a new friend at the jazz club that we all decided to haunt for hours afterward. i haven't been in the new york uptown jazz state of mind for a while now and although it is, as someone put it, my kryptonite in terms of my physical and mental state at the end of the night in many ways it feels most like home.

makes me want to get back to the city...what a foreign feeling.

how the gig ends up

had a great gig tonight and a great afterparty at kenney's, the total sum of which will be shown in this series of latenight drunken sloppy photos:

POTSDAM

there is someone in potsdam new york reading this blog. if you are that person, please say something because i don't know if you realize that i lived in potsdam from age 3-9 until it got too cold to bear and we got shipped down to connecticut. sometimes i still have faint memories of the iceberg that was once called home, a mere 40 minutes away from canada where the snow starts to fall in october and doesn't leave until june, and where a tree got knocked over in a huge thunderstorm and crashed through our kitchen roof almost killing our entire family. ah sweet sweet potsdam.

if you are happy in that godforsaken wasteland, oh potsdam reader o' mine, then i apologize for badmouthing your home, but i have to say that it didn't offer much for a loudmouthed attention-seeking little ruffian like me.

summer's over please kill me

i'm sad. we're grilling on labor day weekend and that means that summer is over and it's time to whip out the sweaters and jackets which actually now that i think about it is kind of refreshing. i always feel sorry for the winter clothes tucked away in the back of the closet waiting with baited breath for the temperature to hit a solid 50 degrees so they can strut their stuff once again. i spend too much money on clothes so i might as well wear them and get excited about them or else really what is the point? plus there's a certain sample sale coming up at a certain outwerwear company where a certain lad i am quite fond of works and i will get some more jackets, so maybe end of summer isn't too too bad.

classes are going well. so far. i'm having a little scuffle with my creative writing teacher because i was extremely dumb (some might even say tardastic!) and missed a class by accident before getting him to sign an override form (whatever the hell that is supposed to be) so i'm going to go in on tuesday and beg him to let me in since i'm a senior and i need to graduate and pleeeeease don't ruin my life you pathetic little man. he's a young guy named eric who lives in northampton massachussetts and apparently writes some sort of poetry/prose hybrid that i've heard isn't very good. therefore i intend to beat him down with my charm and if that doesn't work then i'll use tears. a tried and true method.

talapia for dinner. i made guacamole for a snack. poker at jesse's is fun fun fun and also i've only had white wine to drink for a month now. it makes me feel like i'm on a sobriety kick (when in fact i'm still drinking) and i like it.

canoe's going back in the garage and i'm putting my flipflops away. bugger.

gig time

i have a show coming up and everyone who claims to be a friend should come.

thursday september 15th 7:30 pm the cutting room on west 24th st. and bway new york city

$15, $10 with student i.d.

i'm playing with my professor, steve davis, and therefore i'm only doing 4 tunes or so. but it's still fun and good publicity and also mr. big from sex in the city owns the venue so perhaps you could have a celebrity sighting while you're there. hopefully he won't be wearing slippers.

last weekend of freedom

school starts tomorrow. this means that i had one last weekend of tomfoolery and shenanigans before responsibility sets in so i took full advantage by riding a rollercoaster, celebrating a birthday, listening to great music, looking at porn (watch out, she's a squirter!), eating a corndog, dancing to drum'n'bass, reconnecting with good friends, and wrapping up a mattress in plastic.

sometimes it takes the end of a summer to make you realize that things aren't as bad as they seem.

kick in the pants

i'm taking 25.5 credits this semester.


just thought you all should know.

appendages

you wouldn't realize it but getting a new leg is an extremely exciting process! i need to find a fabric to cover my new limb with since the lovely elephant pole of doom is on it's last legs. haaaaaaaaaa i crack myself up. i could never get rid of an old leg it's like a dear friend i guess getting me up and down stairs and lasting through however many ps1's and direct drives and nature walks and late late late nights. so when they die they usually sit in a closet or sometimes maybe on display for a while on a dresser. i don't want to imagine the poor thing on it's way to the dump where the broken cars broken computers ugly worn out bits of plastic and metal go to be crushed together and buried in a landfill. i could send them to a charity so that minefield victims could get the benefit of a new leg like i've had the opportunity of having but really worn out ones wouldn't benefit anyone anyway so mostly i keep them. then i get new ones to replace the old ones and i get to pick out ankles and toes and whether i want it to have skin or just be an imtimidating titanium pole that i can occasionally take off and threaten jackasses with when they act up. this time around i'm going for weaponry which means getting a fabric to have superimposed on the top part of the plastic and i want flowers maybe a japanese kimono fabric so that all the artwork on my body matches. that is a very important factor. kabooms and shaunas are good resources for such things and that is why i have good friends who can help me pick leg tattoos that match the rest of my tattoos and not think i'm a freak. at least not for that reason.

carma

productivity comes at a cost apparently. i ran around all day yesterday doing things like register for classes and buy orchid food for my plants and take my film to be developed and on and on and on. someone needed me to fedex them a package overnight because they forgot to pack a dress shirt for a fancy work dinner (you shall remain nameless since i know you're embarassed enough already for being disorganized oh lover of mine oops) and on the way to the package dropoff i rolled over a curb and got a flat tire. totally flat and separated from the rim which is bad i think. i had it towed to the sears auto center and....drumroll please...

$four hundred and thirty five

i have to get all my tires replaced. what is it with me and cars. haven't i suffered enough? i have taken hits for every damn asshole who goes around saying "i've never been in an accident...i've never even gotten a speeding ticket!" i hate those people.

a story

i watch the tree coming at us and all at once i really know the feeling of imminent doom. impact and then i look through a blur at broken glass, heaps of twisted metal, seemingly endless miles of tree bark and branches. and there's two of everything, maybe three or four but who can tell. in and out and in and out again and again and there are people and fire and more people, spotlights and headlights and fire extinguishers, and then a loud roar and i'm out. pain in my legs and pain in my head and pain in my chest and a helicopter and i'm out again. when i get to the hallways of linoleum and white white walls there is my mother and i say "i'm really sorry mom" and she says "why? was it your fault?" and although years later i find out she's being sarcastic, for a long time i think she's mad at me for screwing up yet again. i'm out and in and out and finally out out out.

the icu is bright and i can't talk and there's tubes everywhere, beeping and humming and purring and people everywhere and i learn i've been asleep for two weeks and i NEED to check my voicemail. maybe i was in the newspaper. tell me what's broken, i know that things aren't where they're supposed to be...and one other thing, i already know about the leg so spare me the gruesome details please. take this tube out of my throat i can't talk, i want to talk, i NEED to talk please i have too many questions to spell out on a laminated alphabet. let's hear the list: broken ankle, broken kneecap, dislocated kneecap, broken femur in two places, punctured lungs, punctured liver (kidney? i never remember) and the obvious. okay go back to sleep, no you can't take out that tube because you can't breathe on your own yet and you'll die. oh yeah, don't move that arm, your collarbone is broken too. sorry, we keep forgetting about that. pull this tube out NOW i need need NEED to talk please, i have to check my voicemail. someone might have called, a boy might like me, maybe someone didn't know that i'm here, maybe my friends are wondering if i'm ignoring them, maybe they hate me and i'm friendless and 16 and legless and alone. well everyone knows, it's in the newspaper and on the nightly news and morphine is fantastic and i'm asleep. in and out and in and out out out.

tubes are out, bandages are removed and changed daily, the residents come through like a pack of wolves hungrily eyeing my rare injuries and reconstructions and poking prodding and ignoring ME. but it's okay, they're america's future doctors, surgeons, geniuses. so they say. days and weeks and they tell me i have months to go, but gyllian and katie and i decide that i'm fine and i'm smuggled into a wheelchair and pushed 100 miles an hour down hallways and elevators, through cafeterias, and there's the front door! oh great sliding glass of freedom! i'm there, i'm there, i'm out and oh hi mom! hi doctor! i'm ready! i'm ready to leave! i'm not ready. well i thought i was, but i guess you're the experts. let's make a deal: one more week and i'm outta here and i have school waiting for me and 300 stuffed animals to take home and thank you notes to write and i'm 16 and i want to smoke cigarettes and drink beer and have sex, duh. even one legged girls need to get laid, you know.

no surprise

thanks to katy for this...i am emotional and not very bright. what a shocker.


Your Emotional Intuition
score is a measure of how well you understand people, especially their
unspoken needs and sympathies. A high score score usually indicates
social grace and persuasiveness. A low score usually means you're good
at Quake.

Your Scientific Intuition
score tells you how in tune you are with the world around you; how well
you understand your physical and intellectual environment. People with
high scores here are apt to succeed in business and, of course, the
sciences.

My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 0% on Scientific You scored higher than 99% on Interpersonal

Link: The 2-Variable Intuition Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating