Monday, March 31, 2003

When It Rains


I know there are people walking around with missing body parts, and houses burn down, and people die. So before I start lamenting the minor shitstorm of petty grievances that are to follow, know that I am doing it fully aware that this is the small stuff, watch me sweat it all.


Having said all that, WHY does everything happen at the same time? The good, the bad and the ugly, all rolled up into one steaming pile of cabbages and sausages on your shag rug. What? Oh, that last sentence was borne of sleep deprivation.


The GOOD. I finally got to see J and his band play on Saturday night, and they were really good. He's such a good musician, and he doesn't rate himself nearly as highly as he should. As someone who always wanted to be good at a musical instrument, it is monumentally frustrating to hear gifted musicians put down their abilities. Hey buddy, listen to me play guitar for a half an hour and you will be winding those guitar strings around your own neck to end the pain, trust me. Your complaints about your abilities are falling on deaf ears. Not tone deaf ears though, because I have really good pitch, I just don't have the motor coordination and the gift of becoming unselfconcious enough to let music come through me that musicians have, and I am frankly envious of those who have it. So don't come bitching to me, gifted boy.


Anyway, finally met the boys in the band, and they are all really nice, funny guys, and they didn't make me feel like Yoko for hanging out with them at the gig. Always a plus. Ran into another one of his former bandmates at the bar, a guy I'd met previously, and we had a nice talk. Great evening, and even J had to admit that the band did well that night, in a curious moment of non self-debasement. I played roadie and helped him hump the equipment out with the other guys, and got to talk to the shy band guys some more out by the car, and they were so sweet and humble when I told them how good they were. The bass player was particularly good, and he finally chatted a bit, since he's obviously a bit shy at first, and then warms up, particularly after he's had a couple beers I think.



After getting back to J's, we got a few hours of sleep, emphasis on the word few please, and then went to the radio station where J works. I hung out with him for a couple hours, and then we went to my favorite geek paradise - Beatlefest.


Yes, I admit it. I love Beatlefest - a Star Trek convention where the Beatles are the object of everyone's geeky obsession instead of sci-fi. Every music obsessive I've met in this area can be bumped into over the course of the weekend, most likely in the dealer room with all the rare recordings of this or that, or the colored vinyl Japanese 12" of this, the bootleg autographed copy of that, the 40 year old lunchbox/alarm clock/signed rare edition life-sized poster 3-D replica of the original of the whatchamacallit that you have been looking for - it's all there at the 'fest. I went there for several years in a row in my early 20's, with my Beatle obsessed-girlfriends, and we used the weekend as an excuse to stay at the hotel, immerse ourselves in alcohol and our love of the Beatles and all things British Invasion, and then we'd go back to the real world Sunday night. The only problem with the 'fest is that I'm not so sure how many people there go back to the "real world" Sunday night when it's over, but that's another post.


Anyway, J and I had a fun time there, despite being totally sleep deprived, and we ran into another two bandmates of his, separately, in the dealer room there. It was a weekend of his musical career in retrospective, and I enjoyed the hell out of listening to him talk music with these guys. The one guy was a revelation, because I somehow got the impression that there was bad-blood between them after he left that band, but you wouldn't know it from the gabfest at the 'fest those two had. He turned out to be a pretty cool guy, and I'm sort of sorry that I missed that era, when they used to play together. Anyway, that was the GOOD.


The BAD. Work is rolling downhill and gathering speed, and I'm at the bottom of the metaphorical hill here. There are so many projects all coming to a head at once, that I sat here at my desk today and did that mental patient laughing out loud thing I do when I'm overwhelmed and over tired. Great confidence-building technique for those who witness it, by the way. "Yeah, let's put Carrie on that project, she seems perfect for... (insert maniacal laughter from my office here)...uh, er, wonder who else is available?" How am I supposed to do all of this by these deadlines?? Uh, gee, take more time to write in your blog about it, that'll sure help, right genius? Well, anyway, onto...


The UGLY. There was evidence of a mouse squatting in J's new place in between tenants, so I convinced him to buy some mouse poison after Mickey ATE the new pot holder and dish towel combo present I bought him for the new place. Not that I was overly fond of the pot holder, but the skeeve factor of having something leave tiny little poops all over things kept in a closed drawer made me convince him to KILL! KILL! KILL! the little fiend. Well, he's having his last laugh, because the poison did it's thing, and now Mickey is very noticeably decomposing somewhere in the room between the living room and the bathroom. The smell is nauseating as all get-out. Unfortunately, whenever I have only 2 or 3 hours of sleep, I feel nauseated when I first get up and get moving, and when I smelled that moldy rat death smell, I almost lost it. How the hell are we going to find this thing if it died in the heat ducts or something? There has got to be a way, because that smell is just pukealicious.


Sorry to get disgusting again. (Isn't this the same blog that went on and on about maggots not that long ago, the one repeat reader wonders aloud to himself?) I DID say it was the ugly. Well, actually, there is more ugly to discuss. Besides the fact that I think that I really need to get more exercise than I have been lately, even with all the yard work I've been doing on nice days, I don't feel very good about my weight, and I've got to do something about it before summer. Oh my God, discipline. Gee, that sounds like killer fun. Sarcasm included there at no extra cost. And for added oomph, my face is breaking out since yesterday, for no trackable chocolate indulgence or hormonal reason, and I'd really like an explanation for why I went without this misery throughout most of my teen years, only to be plagued with this nonsense NOW. I'm tapping my foot and waiting, and this had better be good.


More GOOD: one of my favorite musicians, besides J, is finally going to put out more music. So, soo happy, it's been a long time. I just hope I can get tickets when he finally starts doing shows again. Oh how I've waited to see him play again. And new music! New music from your favorite band is almost as good at the first sip of coffee in the morning, the first day a robin is on the lawn after a brutal winter, the first time you kiss a new man and say to yourself, "DAMN, gimme some more of THAT! " I am dancing around my godforsaken hell-beast of an office in anticipation.


More UGLY: I haven't paid my bills this month, and they are lumped up on the kitchen table waiting for me, and I have to work tonite, so they will be sitting there again when I get home late, and I will be too tired to deal with them again. I will have to deal with at least some of them tomorrow, or they will rise up in a spontaneous monster movie tornado and paper cut me to ribbons in my sleep. You are going to have nightmares about that now, aren't you? Hum Alice Cooper to yourself now, you know you want to.


The REALLY GOOD: I'm relatively healthy, I have family and friends who love me, a warm, safe place to live, and things to look forward to, art to create, crazy things to write, and music in my head all day. What, me complain? I'm just blowing off steam today, and letting the sleep deprivation do the typing. Not to worry. Let it rain, I'll just fill up my water pistol.

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