10:40 a.m.||||2001-11-10
DUH,any-1-DARE?>...this is what happens when you screw up the time release. I relish seeing my wrinkled in confusion forehead.
We coulda had clementines, but we woulda hadta buy a crate. A crate of clementines. What are those? I said tangerine; D said "citrus". Now he's humming "livin, lovin me, (she's justa woman)" - So you better lay your money down
I would like to point out that in this (the link above), as in many of the pictures I put up here, clearly visible in background is a wildly big and colorful painting of three dudes. This painting was done by D, and is of D, his friend the womanizer (hated in three counties)(by wimin) and another pal of theirs. D paints. He's unbelievably talented....
I, too, have talents, eww.
Julio told me yesterday about e-mail etiquette. Apparently, and as I saw in H-freshes entry, capitalizing means you are yelling. What? Julio said "I was once told I am rude in e-mail". I laughed and asked how many of us had read books long before e-mail and were capable of understanding the greater subtleties of the English language. I mean, o.k., yeah, this is obviously a rule I haven't thought or given a shit about before...but bolds, italics, the like - do they all have restricted use, as well? Is being emphatic in print by capitalizing so wrong.
Another irrelevant, stupid language bite created for technospeak that bugs me when it SPRINKLES otherwise interesting text, is LOL. As I told Julio, I find it hard to believe that every time someone types those three letters, they are literally sitting there, having a big old LAUGH OUT LOUD. Do we also giggle, chortle, snicker - must we always lol? I know that for some who are regularly jovial, this bite appears to be necessity, and so I do not criticize, merely observe, and wonder. But seriously, it is baggage to my own brain, and when I see it I trip - breaks my concentration for otherwise fine writing. Dig? P.S. I've noticed that none of my favorite people evr use it, or rarely use it. Use it sparingly.
You know what I love? I love photos, and when I can fix a face to a place, I am so happy. And I worry that when I post so many photos folks'll think I'm narcissistic...but that isn't what I think when I visit a photo-laden site - anyway.
Yesterday, whe Julio was here, we had to overhaul his e-mail, because his server has a problem, apparently. We spent maybe four hours - interspersed with other activities - working on it, and nothing would work, all day. "Page is unavailable". What in hell does that mean? Following the advice on that form, I checked all my settings, even restored my system to the day before, when I hadn't messed with e-mail hi-jinx. In the meantime, I wanted to update this diary, but had my hopes set on printing those damn lyrics I keep talking about. None, none, none, of my geocities stuff would load, either, and I wondered, is this my system's problem, is it traffic, is it also a problem that anyone looking at this journal right now is sharing? When I think of these troubles, I always see that dude that co-anchors the news with Tina Fey on SNL, doing that other skit about technocrats...you know! Where he's a computer geek who pisses on everyone else's stupidity. I'm so stupid I can't even tell if the jokes draw from real technology. I also love that guy. He's cute, though not as cute as Tina Fey. Jimmy Fallon - that's his name.I think this entry could be called "Two beers before Noon"; for "Drunk Love" see...
Heard of 'malapropisms'? I was thinking of starting 'Julio-propisms'. He was full of 'em yesterday, let's see if I can remember.
1. As soon as you assert that something isn't so, it is fated to be. (It never happened before, so now that you're talking about it, it's going to happen for certain.)
2. Conversely, and paradoxically, as soon as you recognize as a pattern, it is destined to reverse itself. (You call a dealer every day for two months, everything works, until the day you think it will work, according to the pattern. There the pattern disintegrates.) There's more, and I did get permission to use 'em, but I forgot. Already. Well,
whatever, meet Julio:
I got up at 9:00a.m., it's already 12:45. Damn. I've ben messing with this for hours and really didn't even do what I planned...so here are some links...
HECKAFRESH, WORLDGURL, ARRIYAH, WHIPPLE, THREE-WISHES, SUNDAEBRAIN, RAVENGLITTER, DEAD-DOG, CARONBLOCKS, MILKMONKEY, CITIZENJANE,I hope no-one minds a plug, as long as it goes in the right hole, eh?
Ummm...HIPMAMA OF COURSE...always MY OTHER SITEP.S I updated my favorites in profiles..order is non-specific.
Combined: part 2
So I got in my car after breakfast, after I spent hours in dland earlier, after I drank way too much coffee , and drove over to my friend's house. On the way I put in a dirty, sun-battered tape of Sublime, and remembered "hey, I love these fucking guys". I always discover bands shortly after the lead person has died, as it was with Bradley, who won't ever know how I adore him. That I didn't put this in picks flabbergasts me...last summer I woulda started with them.
And I felt powerful driving down the street, growling..."all that I can see I steal". Sublime did something for the disenfranchised youth of the West Coast that Marvin Gaye did for Harlem. I mean it. I can't listen to Marvin without tears welling up at some point. And when I listen to Sublime I feel, well, understood.
A couple - o.k. several - summers ago, after my Omni caught on fire and burned to the ground outside a bar where I was drinking, but before I moved in with Julio, I lived for that summer with two other guy's I knew. I had a bedroom that had an adjoining sunroom that was directly across the alley from a 4 or 5 story building. Other dudes I knew lived in that building and their rooms overlooked the alley. They spent that summer dealing ecstasy and throwing rave parties. From their windows drifted sundry variations on the theme of house, rave, techno, what have you. Pretty good. They d.j.'d, they had sense. They took pity on me one night when I got locked out of the house at 4 a.m., barefoot, penniless, hurting because I'd just been thrown out of a restaurant by another friend of mine, with whom I was in love.
So, after a month or so of listening to beats, I decided it was necessary to bring back the roots. What I listened to and fairly broadcast back cross the alley included but was not limited to: Aretha; early, pre-funk James Brown ("since...you've...been..gone...I drink and gamble...every night"); any and all Beck that draws on his and also folk tradition; Jimmy Cliff, over and over; the soundtrack to "the harder they come"...over and over. X-ray specs occasionally. Bob Marley daily. "Johnny Too Bad" maybe a hundred times. Then I rediscovered Woody Guthrie at the tail end of summer and closed out the season with him, and every cover tribute albumn I could find. (The afternoon I found Guthrie, I laid on my roommates bed and sobbed. I did the same when I realized I could listen to the Beatles again without thinking of child abuse) I guess you could say that was the summer I dropped some serious soul on my neighbors. I had to do it. I know they thought I was MAD! I was.
So...I'm compulsive when I am passionate.
Tonight D and I are going to see the band of the girl I visited today. You know, I wanted to talk about that visit, but there's not a lot I can say without breaching some things so...I love her, though. She's having a very, very, very tough time right now...but I see so clearly her strength and her vision - even when she doesn't. I feel almost parental...I apologized today for being a nervous wreck (I swear all the coffee gave me fucking palpitations - I was cold and sweating, my heart was racing. I can't distinguish between too much coffee and a panic attack.)and I think she feels she has burdened me. That couldn't be more untrue...I crave her friendship, really. I told her how I cry at the drop of a hat since J was born (something I was never able to do when I most needed it in the past)and she knows that I haven't been out of the house since last Sunday, so hopefully I didn't cast any shadows with my weird mania. I think I come off as self-centered sometimes because I like to tell too many damn stories. When I went over there I felt fine, but then this sense of general unwellness crept over me as I sat there and sweated. Part of it is being in a position of wanting to support her...tell her what I really think...but that is so damn dangerous. Sometimes I walk around with the whole leg halfway swallowed.
I've made and broken too many friendships to count in this town. I went from feeling like I was living in the midst of a glorious scene...to witnessing the dissolution of a dozen relationships at once. The people in that hood scattered...the core exploded, and all the atoms rearranged. (Nice) There's a big drug problem in this town that kind of erupted in the scene I associated with in my mid-twenties, and it has overlapped, come full circle with everyone else I have known. Just recently the suburb where I attended high school in the (gasp) late 80's was discovered to have a major drug insurgence, whose roots I could literally trace. With a few numbers/interviews, I could draft the tree. That has only a little to do with why my last circle of friends moved on w/out me (I fled that neighborhood, moved home for a while, and when I moved back out I didn't associate with anyone outside of work for three years) - but it is all connected. I'm just starting to recultivate some of these friendships, after much time away and soul-searching. But I feel a lack of trust in most situations. I'm not up to much more loss. I don't deserve it - I feel such a strong urge to protect myself. That's really why I quit my last band....why subject myself to any more isolation than I've already imposed. Music, I thought, should set you free.
Holy shit, I am rambling like a lunatic.
Incoherent.
I gotta get ready to go. This ain't the bar we usually go to, so no bottle-breaking should ensue. This is the bar I've walked out of, walked home from, more times than would register me as sane. This is the bar where we headlined until I said I can't take one more show in this fucking place.
PEACE