Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Kids With the Brain Chemicals

Us kids with the brain chemicals-
we were born to lose.
Our parents didn't want us and now
we got more letters than we know what to do with.
A.D.D, O.C.D, P.T.S.D...
We didn't ask for this but we are forced to deal with it.
Addicts, losers, lazies...
More than meets the eye.
I am a victim of circumstance
And a life better lived only in whispers and secrets
And diseases.
We strive to be normal
But the moods or distractions get the better of us.
Shiny fucking things
Are never what they seem.
Counsel away but it doesn't counsel
the shame.
Love is an idea- not a concrete thing to be held
to a woman who was first touched in lust.
To a man beaten down by a Father.
Time wounds all heals
for the kids with the brain chemicals.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


The crowd stretched down the block, but was moving fairly quickly. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I thought to myself "this is it. I'm finally here, and a thirteen year love is going to be realized." As I got to the door a nice looking guy touched my arm and asked if I wanted a free ticket. His friend had bailed and he had no use for it. I said "sure" and took the ticket, texting a few friends to let them know the situation. As it turns out I would have no luck as suspected.

I walked over the merch table immediately to see about purchasing a tshirt, another reason alone to be at the show. I had trouble deciding between the new cd design and a tshirt that said Moby for president. (I believe he should be hehe.) I decided on the former and thought about picking up a copy of "Wait For Me" but wasn't sure about the cash. I figured I could always get it on itunes too, so I made my way over the stage. The left side had a decent view of the stage and I settled in with a decent view, even though my camera phone wouldn't capture the pictures very well.

I looked around at the crowd noticing faces either much younger, or much older than myself. I found this funny. The crowd split between the older crowd I was sure was there for his more mellow later work, and the younger having rediscovered him as a dj or for his earlier electronic work. Most likely his "Play" album. I also noticed I was not the only person to go solo, but that most of the people were in groups or couples, as usual. It just seemed this time I was more alone because I didn't know the band or any of the fans prior.

After what seemed like forever, the lights dimmed and Kelli Scarr came onstage. She looked very unrockstaresque. Hair back, over sized sweater she looked like a fireplace commercial. Then she opened her mouth and began singing with one of the most distinctive and beautiful voices I'd heard. I realized quickly I'd heard her sing on a Moby album before and that was likely why she had the opening slot. While I enjoyed her songs, I to myself thought they were too slow to start a concert. I'd been so full of excitement that the mood had been brought down a bit. She used a looping pedal and played completely alone, singing with her eyes closed for most of the set. Closing with a song about the son she left at home, the crowd clapped and whopped surprisingly noisily. We collectively waited for the man to come to the stage we'd all come for. I've often referred to Moby as God, and so when you've built someone up like that you can only hope they will live up to the expectations. I waited to see.

The lights dimmed and a cheer went up over the crowd. The long notes of "Shot In The Back Of The Head" began and a swell of emotion came through my body. The drives I'd taken in the last few months came to mind, and an image of rain. I felt tears sting my eyes and couldn't believe it. I hadn't planned on crying, even knowing damn well how much I loved the little idiot, and how much his music had meant to me. How his album "18" had been there for me through some really hard times. That the song itself "18" is what I imagine sounds like when you die. Sad, but hopeful...
I enjoyed every second of the song, informing the young girls in front of me when they asked which song it was and which album. I knew I'd be the biggest fan around me. When Moby finished he said "thank you! thank you! thank you!" in a quick and cute way. The crowd laughed. Very humble. One of the many reasons I love him. This he would continue through the night.
He switched right over into the next song "Wait For Me" having Kelly Scarr sing again. She played keys for the rest of the show as well.
A few songs passed and soon a rhythm started and the crowd was feeling it. The air was electric. I secretly hoped it was "Bodyrock" and soon enough the song came in. The crowd without being told started jumping up and down in unison. Moby yelled out "who rocks the party that rocks the party" and I felt on top of the world. The room was at one, under our leader. The rest of the show would be very different.
People began shoving their way in front of people. The unity of the crowd seemed to end. The excitement and happiness I felt was temporarily put on hold as people tried to get in front of me nearly knocking me down in the process. I'd never been to a show where concert etiquette seemed so lacking. This from Moby fans? I was shocked. And angry. Then I was really upset when they stood in front of me, blocking the view that I had gotten there early for. That I had stood there for, not going to the bar or moving for hours.
They were drunk already so left the area just in time for Moby to start making a Hendrix comment, and the band broke into "Purple Haze." The time was passing quickly and I feared the concert would be over before I knew it. Yet, he still had many of my favorite songs to play.

Moby began my next favorite song by saying he loved it because he got to play disco guitar at the beginning, and he did confusing me as to which song it was but then he broke into "We Are All Made of Stars" and I screamed and danced and sang to that one. Happy again. From that song he began a monologue.

He spoke of San Francisco and how when they had played the next song and everyone of all couples gay straight and indescriminate gender began making out and it was like a sophmore love in. He encouraged the crowd to do the same. So... Everyone began making out around me, and I felt alone again. Happy for those around me, but alone again. I have been to every important concert by myself in my life. The notes of Porcelain began:
"Tell the truth you never wanted me... Tell me..." I focused on the happy memories I had to this song, unlike some of his others and brushed away the lonley feeling and past mistakes.

My back had been begun hurting long before and by this time it was excruciating but I did my best not to think about that either. I took pictures with my cell and moved and lived in the moment as best I could. He played the only song from his 'Hotel' album "Raining Again" and before he closed with "The Stars" he began a long monologue about being a recovering raver. He is an amazing dj, most amazing djs are recovering ravers, hehe. I was transported back to Freaknight last Halloween, where I hadn't gotten nearly as close to Moby. The stage was set so high and far away you couldn't get close. The lights shut off then and the band went off stage without even saying good night. Obviously open for an encore.

The crowd shouted "Mo-by! Mo-by! Mo-by!" I hollered right along. He had to play "Extreme Ways." He just had to. It was in my top 3, and one of his biggest singles.
He came back a few moments later and broke into "In This World." I love that song and know it well, but it isn't a favorite.
He began the next by saying it was his favorite he'd ever written. I wondered which one it was and he began the keys to "When it's Cold I'd Like To Die." This was a favorite of mine as well, and listening to the music and lyrics I teared up again:
"I don't want to swim the ocean
I don't want to fight the tide
I don't want to swim forever
When it's cold I'd like to die..."
I wondered why it meant so much to him. What he had written it about. A break up?

I've never switched moods so quickly at a show because he then broke into "Extreme Ways" and my elation returned. Moby was a true miestro of my emotions. I figured this would be the last song. He'd been playing for nearly an hour and a half now. Well over twenty songs. But after he finished, he promised they'd play one more and I considered leaving only because my back was in excrutiating pain and I was so tired from standing. I'd heard all of the tracks I loved and knew he'd play. 'But' I scolded myself, 'you've been waiting on this for over a decade. You should stay as long as possible.' So I stayed put and he began his last song "Honey."
Honey turned into a jam song lasting over ten minutes. I appreciated it and loved the fact he took a chance to do that, but by the end I wondered how anyone had managed to sing and play that long consistantly. The set clocked in at just over two hours. Another attribution to the man I had called God.

So did he live up to my expectations? He surpassed them. He was funny, and sweet, and quirky. He owned the crowd, and even thought the crowd were rude concert goers, that had nothing to do with Moby, his set, or anything he had control over. Moby was amazing, and I will pay another 50 bucks to see him anytime. I love the little idiot. Next time I will take pain medication before and hang out after. Done deal.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

High Dive

Hello Saturday afternoon. I am home again, for the moment, craving a cig like nobody's business and thinking far too much again. Perhaps a cig will help with that too. Stay here while I run to the Sev...

Ok, ten minutes later and we're good. Johnny's last performance was a blast to watch. He jumped around on stage and sang well. He looked gorgeous and after he spent some time with me alone, just talking to me. While the evening was shared it didn't feel like it as much. It was more cohesive overall and I have to think that he paid attention to what I was saying about those things. I felt like his girlfriend that night, and not a tag along.
I invited Summer's friend Chelsea to come out after she finished her final and we got a chance to talk. She brought out two of her friends as well and we all chatted for a few minutes. As I was standing up by the stage at some point I looked back at her and noticed she was pointing at me and Johnny and Amber, so I wandered back and was like "I know you were talking about me" she laughed and said "I was explaining to my friend here about who was with who and such." I looked at him and said "I'm with the lead" and then we talked for a few minutes about Post Ado itself, and Johnny's music.

When Michelle, the drummer's wife showed up, I didn't say hello immediately. She was entereted in to a convo with Chelsea herself and to be honest I'd never really talked to her. I am always apprehensive to talk to people straight away in situations like that when I have no common ground.
Believe it or not, before I talk to anyone, even with as outgoing as I am I try to get a reading on them first so I can find something to say that's engaging. However, when I did get the chance I popped over to her and said hello and she said "I hardly recognized you in jeans! You always wear skirts!" I laughed and said "yeah, that's my rock gear. I love mini skirts. Tonight felt a little more like a jeans night and I haven't done laundry since I haven't been home."
Anyway, that started us talking about other things and joking around. I felt like it was good for another thing to be included in.
The second band was really pretty good. The kind of music I like, very nordic rockish. I loved their first song. Spoke to a few of the band members, met another lovely girl called Amy. Then I had a conversation with Amber...
I tried to convay some of the things I've said in here to her face. I know she reads this, but I felt like I wanted to say something more than hello. I drove seperately over to the bar thinking I wouldn't drink much and turned her down for a ride. I wasn't sure how she'd take it, but it was good that it worked out that way because I called Frank before and we ended up hitting a burrito place before the show. I didn't even get there til 8:30.
I was nervous before. Honestly, he sort of calmed me down. I was nervous because I was so excited to see J play again, but apprehensive because I didn't want to feel on the outside again.

That brings me to another dream I had last night. It was about Johnny and I, and we were talking and laughing. I felt comfortable at that point to say something real to him which stopped it and got us in a confrontation again.
I think I know what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I'm worried that I'll ruin every good time we have because when we're close like that it's when I want to talk to him, and that's what has happened twice now. It's not healthy. I wish I knew how to read that better. I don't fuck up like that with anyone else. It's like holding a butterfly in your hand or something. It's beautiful and delicate, but while it's yours you know you have to be careful with it. Oiy. I wish I were less complicated. I wish he knew how much I cared. It's my motivation for everything right now.

I have fallen in love again. :) It's a song called "I Get Off" (Halestorm) and I heard it for the first time on the way to the High Dive. Damn, I envy the chick who sings. The song is harder and like seriously gets my adrenaline going. Makes me motivated to start running again. I have to be even more careful with that now thanks to the athsma. I am paranoid. I've never been that worried about anything except having my sleeping pills on me. That attack really changed my life...

I'm running out to see Summer now for the first time since before Utah. I should finish writing that song, but it' s working out in my head. So, that's good. Plus having a new song to be crazy about always motivates me to do something similar. I'll have to start another one. Perhaps tomorrow.

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Letter (poem)

Where are the woods where my love once waited?
A dream in mid May
Seems so far away...
I touch him praying for a rush
A tidal wave of emotion he'll betray on his face
For me
But he does not.
Another tale takes hold of what I
One where I am the villain
And the keeper of pain
And I keep silent.
If you could show me
my mind would quiet
my soul would rest.
But I wait with baited breath
For a letter that will never come.
A song may rise
But the words you write
Will never come.

Studio/Asthma Death

I have spent the last two days in the studio. My first real studio. Not just pissing around with pro tools at a mate's getting my songs down, though that's always fun too. I was so excited. I can't begin to describe the feeling of seeing 25 years of work come to light. Dream come true it was. The producer said he could hear "Lullaby" on the radio. We layered the shit out of that song. It is epic. I can't believe I wrote it. It's so much bigger than me... Looking back I remember the steps of writing it. Needing to write about losing Mason to addiction, but again truly another man I never really had as he was cheating on me.
He never confessed but Nate, one of his two best friends, confirmed for me last time we spoke. I have spoken of Nate before. I miss the shit out of him...
Anyway we expected to be in there and pay for 20 hours. We finished up in 15. Strings were done on take one. Piano in two takes. Vocals well, I'm pickier about that shit so that was about five, trying to nail harmonies and such.
I had a text conversation right before I recorded the vox for "Goodbye" the hardest and angriest song I've ever written. It hurt me. I took it out on the music. You can hear it. I mean, I sound angry. Nothing pretty about my voice in that recording, unlike the first time I recorded that song with out the band. The conversation prompted thoughts from the band... I'd go more into it, but I can't just now. It was a confirmation of something else unsettling in my life...
I called up Frank in a tizzy after hearing all this come out. I would have called Johnny but he was with Amber. He doesn't like talking much on the phone, and I just couldn't see having that conversation with him just then, as much as I wished we could. So Frank was excited for me. I said "I know it's gunna be late, but can I please stop by after?" I really didn't wanna be that high (on life mind you, though we did have a couple bottles of wine in the studio...) alone. He graciously agreed and I went over after. When he opened the door he had his guitar on and he was picking. I said "hi!" with a huge smile, and he began playing "Full Throttle" one of the other songs I recorded. I was so surprised he'd found the song, listened, and learned it. It was incredibly faltering. So we drank vodka which he'd also thoughtfully bought for me, and I gushed endlessly about every stupid detail til I blacked out half a bottle of vodka in. He was exactly what I needed after that kind of day. To be around someone. Not to come home to a fucking empty house, alone.
Came home later on when I was ok and crawled into bed, hoping not to have a hangover today cuz I needed to be up to finish studio stuff. But I managed to have some tears anyway. I'm still wondering the whys I guess. I wonder if you ever don't do that. The liquor was a major player in the cry fest though, as I don't cry much these days unless I go home after drinking and the dark and silence and emptiness greet me. I haven't fought off that demon yet, though as I'm coming to terms with some truths about myself I realized what my major trigger is: Loneliness. It's a bitch. And I can't talk to anyone about it at 5am.
I also don't think people realize how truly lonely I am. I like my own time. I like my own company. But it has to be limited. Which is why I'm really nervous about this next revelation:

I'm moving back to Whidbey island. This is not good news. The house is fucking BEAUTIFUL. It's quiet. It has a view of the water. It is 2 levels so I won't disturb my Dad. But it is a boat ride and a 15 minute drive more to anything that matters to me here. Which means when I'm out there and can't just call up Frank, or hit up O Fins when I'm feeling an episode coming on. The band stuff in the morning, I've just added an hour to my commute. Getting a job out there is impossible.
So why am I doing this?

Because I can NOT stand to see my Father hurt anymore here. I can not see him depressed as all hell, and feel like he wants to kill himself. He never says this to me of course, but I have been there. I know exactly what he's thinking.
If someone had taken the 15 year old me and said "I can move you to a place you want to be (at that time here or Orlando) in a house you'll love, in a setting you'll appreciate with all the important things in your life, would you take it?" I would have said hell yes in a second flat and done it. So... I'm gunna do that for my Dad. I love him that much. I'm going to walk right into something I know can torpedo everything that makes me happy about my life because it will make him happy. Because that's what love is. I don't think it will be bad for the first month maybe. And I'm hoping in that amount of time I can make a plan to do what I have to do before I get too depressed or crazy to do anything about it.
But I am apprehensive even thinking about it.
When I talked to Frank about it he said why do you have to go? You're a grown woman, do what you want. And I said it's not that simple when you're sick. I rely on him for a few things I can't sustain on my own until I'm better. And umm, I'm not getting better.
With Johnny when I said it he said nothing. I said do you have any thoughts on the matter? He said we'll figure it out.
That makes me nervous too because having to be there longer will invade his private time and space and such. He's not really into asking me for more time as I've said. And the few times it's happened I've stayed longer, it hasn't felt ok.
I wish we could be around each other more. I wish he wanted it more. I wish I didn't know his truest feelings without him saying anything but by reading his actions and body language. I wish I could lie to myself because it would pacify me.
Everything is fucking changing again, and while I embrace change this one intimidates me. And saddens me. But we can't always be selfish. And it's my Dad's turn to be happy.

In other news yesterday when I woke up at Johnny's (before day one in the studio) I was having a dream about being suffocated. I was in a room at a party and I couldn't breathe. I saw Chris standing in the doorway though. He never said a word. I awoke to a full on asthma attack. My worst ever. I tried to just breathe for a few minutes because I didn't want to leave J early but I realized I was losing that battle and more quickly than I liked. So I gathered up my things, and began walking to my car. I called my Mom because I was unsure of what to do. My inhaler was 30 minutes away, and frankly I couldn't even remember if I had one anymore that worked. She insisted that I go immediately to the nearest E.R. I tried between shallow breaths to tell her I didn't have time to be there for 3 hours while they fucked around. I HAD to be in the studio. Nothing mattered more to me. We called back and forth and finally about the time I reached Shoreline I gave in and realized I was starting to get light headed and was not only putting me in danger but other drivers at that point if I passed out, and my brain had been deprived of decent oxygen for a good forty five minutes already. So I called my Dad to find a hospital near there. There wasn't one. I was closer to the possible inhaler at home than to a hospital so I made the decision to head home. When I got here I was shaking, faint and seriously wondering if I was gunna make it. My breathing was shallow, and quick, and I was desperate at the thought of finding the inhaler which, ha ha, was not in the bathroom where it usually is.

I began to cry (I know twice in two days. Forgive me, this was out of complete and utter desperation and not cuz I'd been drinking) and fell to the ground. I grabbed my phone ready to dial 911 when I realized the inhaler was probably in my room in my side dresser. Thankfully it was. Waiting to see whether the inhaler would help was ten seconds I'd rather not live again. But thankfully after a third try I began to breathe again. I sucked in air like it was going out of style. I coughed and sputtered and came back to life.

My mother gave me the best lecture I've ever had about NOT going to the ER. Hah. This from someone who used to tell me I wasn't sick when I was. I really, honestly should have. I ignored the clinic when I had the bad reaction to the meds about the EKG thing. I figured I'd pull through. This one I very nearly could have not come back from. I was headed for coma city right then. It's ok to call in sick to work if you have to. You only call in dead to the studio. I didn't have time for the hospital and their games. So I slept it off a little then got up and did exactly what I had to do. And I'm glad because it was such an amazing and validating feeling. As a lyricist, a songwriter, a musician, and orchestrator.

So now I'm home after seeing Frank again. We went and saw Capitalism: A Love Story and talked politics the rest of the night. It was fun. We made dinner and then watched Fahrenheit 9/11 and I came home to write this, another long entry. Now I'm worked up after being up for 22 hours. I don't WANT to take a Xanie tonight, but I must I think. Ambien in 3 days. This is usually hell week for me, but with the Xanax I've been so blessed to have something in between.
Anyway, that's the latest. Johnny's got a show on Thursday and we'll see how it goes. I've talked to Summer a few times, and we're gunna get together later this week. Bevin and I caught up. And... yeah, bed time.

Night blog.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Dear Broken Heart

Dear broken heart-

You perfectly fucking awful thing. I knew you were lurking before. I felt the twinge of you occasionally on the wind. I know how you love to hang round as soon as I even get a hint that you're coming. The crying. The whys. The questions that never have any fucking answers or closure. You drive me to drink. You drive me to binge. You drive me to fuck others. Are you missing entirely? Is this the problem? That I am completely devoid of a whole heart to begin with that the pieces never fully mend and I can never fully trust? You lead me to the worst things. Love killed me. And Love kills me. Every time, and the only effort it takes is a fucking smile on one boys face. One compliment, one laugh, one perfect moment and you sit there. Ready to fucking ruin it for me. You put on the songs that make me it worse because you are masochistic, and drowning in it drives me closer to the edge. Where some day accidentally or possibly intentionally it won't hurt anymore. You win too often. This fucking russian roulette. I dare you to give yourself the way you once did. You won't survive. So what then? What the fuck then am I to do I ask you? You impulsive shit. You heart, you give it away so easily desperately seeking some sort of love you have been denied at every turn. With family. With friends. And of course, more deeply, with lovers. Hit and run.

You know what's fucked up heart? You play the game well. You make the men fall like cards. Even when you are out with the one you love, you can attract the ones that you can inevitably break, just as you've been broken. What is it I asked Dean. He said "there's something about you. Your energy. Being around you is like being alive. Living in the moment." I guess I'm intoxicating. But shit, that's only when I don't care. I start to feel anything remotely deeper than attraction and it all goes out the window. I become complacent. I want to please. I avoid conflict. And I secretly hope someday one I feel for asks me what I want. What makes me happy. Who I am. You know who I am? Someone who's past is a broken movie. There's being really young til about ten. The years I can find childhood. Those years mean something. Then past ten I broke. Men broke me. My mother broke me. My school mates broke me. I can not think of one moment, not one, where I was truly happy. The years run together. I try to forget. I drug to numb. I drink to forget. I cut to pacify. I learned lying is your friend. Lie about the abuse. Lie about how you feel. Lie to impress because no one fucking likes you anyway.

Without those years I miss a huge chunk of who I am. I stopped taking pictures of myself. I stopped trying. I lived those cruel moments over and over. The knife to my neck. The feel of the forceful hands upon me. Over my mouth. Killing the inside of me in one swift act of violation. Then the cruel notes in my locker. The failed attempts at rebellion. Then I reached out. Alastair led me to believe maybe he could teach me to trust, to love again. But he was the first in the string of men that had me because I was convenient. I am more than that dammit. I know I am. But here I feel you. Choking me. I can not breathe for the pain.

I can not write any more to you heart. Not tonight. You need to do what you can to protect yourself. Pay attention to the warning signs. Be smarter. But time is the only thing that helps this. So I ask you this: Someday, do you think you can give yourself away, and have someone give the same to you? Not convenient. Not cheating. Not a filler. Really give. If the answer is no then perhaps you should stop. Because really, this broken feeling... There are no words. Let this be a lesson to you.


Friday, September 18, 2009

Karaoke Hate Mail

Welcome to post 150. I suppose I have a lot to say about my life most times...

Last Saturday Johnny and I went to Game Works downtown and we had an absolute blast. We played air hockey and fighting games. We played shooters and pinball. We had a little dinner and a drink and then bar hopped. We ended at karaoke at The Crescent, reminiscent of my birthday one of my favorite days with him. I sang some Bon Jovi and I guess I did well at it because the kj bought me a drink and asked me to do a Heart song. They didn't have the Heart song I wanted so I sang "Black Velvet" instead.
When I got called back up again Shane, the host said "now what song is this?" I looked at the slip and written on it said
Fuck you

I said "I didn't write that. Look at what it says!" He read it and covered his mouth. I smiled and said "can I still sing?" He said yes and asked what I wanted. I did Evanescence as per my usual. He came out and had a cig with Johnny and I and we giggled about it. I was drunk enough I found it nothing but funny. Johnny being eternally cute filled in a new slip that said
She's wonderful

Or something like that. I never actually saw the slip. But it was a sweet gesture. We went home after and actually talked for awhile about spirituality and other things. Then we went to bed.

In other news Johnny's bassist is Gar. Gar's ex girlfriend Summer and I never got along before. I think I wrote about attending her birthday party and needing to have a conversation with her about what happened. She flipped me off and was rude and dragged Amber away from me whenever we were dancing or anything. I was so upset because I figured she was the epitome of one of the things that were already bugging me about Johnny and I. Johnny's friends it seemed has all these walls up about me. I felt I was going into something I was already losing. I had a lot of anger about it. Well, I ran into Summer somewhere unexpected last week and we had a long talk about what was going on and why and what our perspectives were. We spent a good deal of the night talking. She took me by the arms at one point and said "I think we're gunna be really great friends." I smiled and nodded, though at the time I wasn't sure whether she was being sincere. I believe now that we've spent more time together she was.
We hung out and had a sleepover one night, and we went out to the Mecca yesterday. She's a really loud, fun, amazing person. She's a tough girl, but we talked a lot about her past and I understand why she is the way she is. How she feels about Gar. She drew the icon for Johnny's band. We spent some time doing art on our sleepover.
She came out to the practice space at Studio Seven one day too. I'm hoping we can get together again this weekend though she may be busy. I feel like I can talk to her if I have to. And I have about one topic. But I haven't really voulenteered much about myself yet. As again, I usually don't. But I can see being in her life for a good long time. We have some shit in common.

Spent the day at Johnny's in bed, sick again. I think the stress is making it worse. I had a headache, was sick to my stomach, shakey, it was all bad dude. It wasn't a hangover or anything. I have another dr apt on Wed before I leave town.

Johnny and I and I suppose Amber are going to the Manic Street Preachers concert on Monday. I say suppose because I'm not sure if we're all going together, or if Gar is coming or what. I don't know if it's a standing thing because even though I kept asking J to go to the venue with me before hand so I could learn the ropes, we never went. I wanted to get to know the staff and stuff too, to figure out the best way to surprise Johnny. But it never came to pass. I may still try and do it tomorrow or the next day. I don't know how I'll be feeling. I have band practice early in the morning, which means when I'm done with this I'm taking my pills. But if I can pull it off, and I'm certain I could have had I had more time or Johnny had been willing to go, it would have been a great thing to accomplish. Maybe it can still happen. I'm gunna try.

What else? I finally gave Jon his books back. I'm leaving for Salt Lake again next Thursday, and it'll just be like a long weekend.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

The Port Townsend trip

*amendment: this blog was started on 9/11 and it's now 9/17. I have been so busy the last week I haven't had time to catch up or hardly breathe. But I'm gunna try and finish this one now...*

Today was a great day. One of the best in my life. Frank and I planned a day trip to one of the islands to explore and bike ride. Got up early and headed to his place at 11 am. We left at 11:45 and began the 2 hour drive to Port Townsend. Waiting in line a long ass time for the ferry but from there it was all good. We spent the rest of the drive talking about everything really. We listened to 80s metal most of the way. I insisted on Motley Crue. The drive was about three hours long, and we passed through a quaint town, so we stopped at a fruit stand. It was a day for exploring. Frank got a nectarine and I avoided getting anything since I'm allergic to most of the fruit they had. Dude, I miss nectarines and peaches and apricots most of all. When we got back on the road and he was eating it I thought "maybe enough time has passed I'm not allergic to it anymore. I drink orange juice in my vodka sunrises... Even though I can't eat the fruit. Maybe I'm dellusional." I wasn't. I had a nibble and almost immediately started feeling that icky feeling in my mouth. I was uncomfy for the next hour. But the sun was shining, I was on an adventure, and I was with the current best friend in my life. So I tried not to think about it.

We got to Port Townsend around 2pm and I was hungry, so the first order of business was to find lunch. We strolled down the main drag looking much like tourists, reading the menus posted outside of restaurants. One had listed a crab and artichoke sandwich. I had to have it. And boy, was I glad I did. It was the best fucking thing I've practically ever eaten. Granted, it's not sushi... but it was damn good. Frank had some other sandwich and a side salad and said it was the best dressing he'd ever had. The building with the restaurant was an old hotel converted. Damn, I think it was haunted. I get feelings about shit like that. I sense things. I liked it- But I didn't too. We sat on the porch overlooking the bay. The service was way slow, but I didn't mind. We were on island time. We left the restaurant to go and see about renting bikes and it turns out it was also a kayak stand. Frank's never been kayaking so we inquired about renting one. Unfortunetely they were getting ready to shut down for the day, so I promised him we'd go another time and told him what fun it is. We wandered around the port for the next little while. Stopping in shops, doing whatever tickled our fancy. There is a beautiful celtic store there I could totally see getting lost in. I spent a good thirty minutes in there considering buying everything in the shop, but eventually left with nothing. In another store I found a leather jacket I adored. But I have one already, and it would be a waste. We wandered looking for a shot glass for me and finally found one in a local drug store. I also bought a little Buddha statue. I've been meaning to get one for some time now. They are good luck, and it's a good reminder to just live with compassion. Kharma exists. Life rules. All things that mean something to me.

From there we walked to a park where I swang for awhile. There was a Japanese garden inside that was beautiful and I took pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. Which means I have more pictures than most trips. We wandered to the beach then to watch the sunset and while I was walking the tide rushed up and drenched my feet. I played with dogs, and we saw oodles of boats. The day drawing to a close and being very tired at that point from walking so far we decided to pack it in and call it a day. We made the boat exactly on time and walked to the deck where I let the cold wind whip my hair around for awhile feeling just amazing. A little sad to see that day go, but in great spirits otherwise.

We got back to Frank's and I talked to Johnny a little on the phone. We then watched tv for awhile til Frank passed out on me again. So I went home popped a pill and went immediately to bed. Oh my God, I woke up in a puddle of drool. I NEVER sleep like that. I was out dude. I don't think anything could have awoken me. The day had worn me out. I had just enough time to start this blog and have the sense to realize the pills were kicking in and I needed to be in bed now.

Anyway, that day is a memory I'll treasure forever. I didn't waste that day at all. Port Townsend, I hope I make it back to you.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A Detour

I don't remember the last time I was this lonely. I feel fucking empty right now. I shouldn't. I've been invited out by 3 different people. I just came home to shower and this feeling just settled on me like a cloud. Perhaps it's what's happened the last couple days.

Saturday was Johnny's show. One of my oldest friends in the world Mary came to see him play. I hadn't seen her in years. Ironically she was just in town on a visit, as she lives in Salt Lake. Weird how that worked out. We caught up. Boy it was great to see her. I was bored by the opening bands, but Post Ado rocked it as always. I sure love hearing him play. Then there was an after party we went to, and the rumor was there was going to be little white happiness there. It never came to pass, but I got one of my feelings. It was in the air...

Sunday I stayed longer at Johnny's again, sleeping as long as I could as I was still out of ambien. I got up, texted Jon and he invited me over to his hotel. So I went. We had dinner and drinks at this charming Chinese diner. He said we should pick up some wine and keep the conversation going. So we grabbed 3 bottles of white. Talked for a long while. He apologized for the way he acted at the Seattle show which I greatly appreciated. He actually listened to me talk about my life, and the things I'm doing. Listened about Johnny, and about his band. It was a good vibe. Then he asked if I could get us blow. I made the call and even though I wasn't expecting it to happen, the deal went down smoothly, strangely. I've almost never had deals go down like that. Usually it's a lot of chasing and retarded wait game bs. So we went back to the hotel where it snowed long into the morning. Eventually Jon fell asleep. I was still wide awake, dreading the 30 minute drive, dreading having to stop for gas, dreading the eventual come down. I was already feeling it a little. But I put on my big girl panties and did as I needed. Then I came home. I swear to God I nearly had a heart attack. The shit was good. Some of the best I've ever had.

I laid around trying to sleep from 10am to 3pm. I finally got an hour round then. Then talked to Frank and was up for a little. Had another short nap and went back to Frank's where we made Pho soup and watched more food network. Confided in my last couple days adventure. Left around 3am again.

Monday I spent the day at home again. Did very little.

Tuesday I got up late. Slept a bit more which I needed, so that was nice. Went out to Johnny's earlier. I promised myself I wouldn't write or tell anyone what had happened til J heard. I wanted to be completely honest about everything. I knew he'd understand. So we had our usual Tuesday night with wine. Watched our programs. Made fun of "more to love." Made out for a long time.

I stayed late again this morning because I was supposed to head to Studio Seven for a jam session. Johnny came home on break and while I wanted to spend time with him in between, I slept instead. It was my first day back on ambien, and I'm pretty sure I took more than one because J at some point said "baby haven't you taken that already?" I put the pill down and laid down wondering if I'd already blacked out. So that probably helped the massive sleep. God, it's way better to sleep too much than not enough. When I got up at 4pm I drove over to Studio Seven. Jammed with an old pro musician whose band opened for WASP at some point. Also mentioned knowing the people in Witchburn and Hells Bells. I seriously can't believe what a small world it is. Or how tight the musician community is here in Seattle. Even the drummer knew Gar, Johnny's bassist. So they were all excited about playing. Hell we all were. The session went on for quite awhile. I think if I wanted to start another project now I probably could. If I'm impressing the musicians of that caliber, I must be alright. It was validating. Maybe I will start a second project. Who knows. I'd have to double up on writing though. That's just extra pressure.

Anyway it snowed again a little today too. Sigh. I was killing time waiting for J and it came out. Anyway, once he said he'd had a shitty day and wanted to be alone I cut it off and came home. Probably saving myself a lot more trouble. Writing has made me feel better. I kind of want to go to Big Daddy's, but that's a long drive for karaoke. I'm not even really in the mood to sing. I just kinda wanna talk to Frank. He's got a calming vibe and I wouldn't be alone. Should I drive? Or just wait the 2 hours til he's off and then go? I dunno. I wish he had a cell so I could text him and ask these things. I just wish he was home now. Life aint fair hehe.

Anyway we'll see how tomorrow goes.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Recall Before Bed

So I'm writing again today. I need to go to bed soon though to be up for rehearsal tomorrow.

The last couple days have been kind of interesting. I'll start with Tuesday. Tuesday was Johnny time. When I got there he was very affectionate and attentive. It was incredibly sweet. It was the second time in a row he acted more like that. It was nice. We laughed long into the morning and had a good time overall.
Wednesday I stuck around through the day because his shift had changed and I wanted to be around him a little more. Then I came home and changed and picked up my friend Michael and we went out to the Wild Rose bar for karaoke. He met the host on okcupid and decided to meet her in person, and wanted me along so as not to be eaten by the lesbians at the bar. Johnny joined us after he finished his shift. She was very nice after all, and I had a fun time singing and stuff. We all decided to hop bars at the end of the night to this very nice Spanish bar with great ambiance. After a couple there, we walked to get wine and walk to Johnny's to hang and talk and drink. Plans got thwarted though when a rather drunk Michael started dancing and knocked the wine from Johnny's hand breaking it. J was super pissed for a little, and I being in the middle decided we'd leave shortly. I kissed J goodbye, and we walked the mile (maybe a little less) to where the car was parked in the rain. Tried to stay positive, but my feet were def being ripped open again. I'm still sore.
Drove Michael home, and on the way Frank called. He asked if I'd come over for a sec to help with some stuff and I said sure, so I went over and helped with dishes, and the cat and came home again.
Driving on the way to Frank's Johnny sent me a message asking if I'd call, and continuing the feeling he was demonstrating earlier he was very sweet and said lovely things again. I was liking the way things has changed a little.

Thursday I was dead. Just done dude. I had to get up early the next day to help Frank with his car by giving him a ride. But I hadn't slept much at all the two nights prior. So I had a hard time focusing, and was simply exhausted. I felt like crying. I arrived where I was supposed to be at the right time, but drove past the location, confused by the directions and ended up being 30 minutes late to pick Frank up. He was pissed off at me, but relented as soon as he saw how sick I was quickly becoming. I spent the after noon laying around his place while he worked on his computer waiting for the time to go pick his car up again. I made him drive my car to get his. He left me then to do errands and asked if I wanted to get back together again later. I said sure, if I slept. I went home to sleep after getting stuck in traffic that took me an hour to get through. I didn't sleep more than ten minutes. But, I went to his place again anyway. We watched Food network until Johnny texted letting me know he was home again. I left to go see Johnny.
J was depressed last night. He didn't act like the two nights before. I was getting sicker as the night dragged on. I tried not to let it show. We finally went to bed and after sex, a shaking fit started. I thought about leaving, even though I couldn't drive. I wasn't ready for him to see that side, not yet. But he held his arms out to me and held me while it died down. Soon I was laying on him and just praying to go to sleep, in pain.
I was supposed to call the university hospital today, but forgot it was Friday. So I'll call on Monday. More internal stuff to deal with.
I want to spend as much time with Johnny as I can right now because I can feel things happening that I can't explain yet. But I'm meeting up with him after practice tomorrow, before his show. A great sadness has crept over me as I write this. I think I'll ride with him and his drummer to help with the equipment loading/unloading process giving me a few more precious moments to just be near him. And then Sunday I will whisk myself away again to be apart. My life is changing again. I don't feel it in it's entirety yet, but I see it. And it's coming whether I want it or not.

Got up early to beat the ticket this morning and wrote my last blog. Then I finally slept a few hours. When I got up Jon called. We talked on the phone for 2 hours. We're gunna get together Sunday for dinner and to go over a script he's looking at to produce. Interesting to say the least. He's making his way over from San Francisco currently. I guess he's just gunna fly back to do VAST stuff, but he doesn't want to tour again for awhile. Makes sense. He's gunna stay in a hotel until Tuesday when he moves the stuff in his UHaul in. I may go help with that if he wants it.
We actually talked a lot more about me this time which I found interesting as well, because he seemed genuinely invested in what I was saying. I think maybe he'll come out once in awhile which would be cool. He also gave me the compliment I'm cool to drink with. I'm every one's fav drinking buddy I guess hehe. Minus the couple times I've been sloppy I know how to hang. But Jon's never seen that.

So since, I've been a homebody. Did dishes, laundry, went grocery shopping, cooked. I'm not done yet, but it's bed time and tomorrow will be busy. Guess I'll finish the chores on Monday when I'm home again. Til then.

Friday, September 4, 2009


I was just doing more research on Borderline again. Damn, there really is no escaping this fucking thing. Do you know one in ten off themselves? We will self destruct at the drop of the sentence "look what you've done."

You know, I never thought of myself as manipulative. Really, I figured the way situations happened was the way it was supposed to be and I'd cope. Sometimes badly.
But I was thinking about when I was cutting, and I guess deep down at my core (though you never could have convinced me then) I was being manipulative in that. Let me explain.
When my mom would yell, and demand, and punish, and then eventually push me, or shake me, or something, I used to beg her not to. I'd scream "don't touch me!" She would watch as I collapsed on the floor crying. I would try to yell over her sometimes, just to be heard. That was an impossible feat though. The worst always came when she'd be pushed to the brink of hurting me physically.
Then, after my soul had been worn down and destroyed after another episode with her I'd retreat to my room and punish myself further with a razor. Why? I was fucking angry, and frustrated that there was nothing I could do. She wouldn't change, or listen. She didn't see at the core how every time that happened, she broke me a little further, until I became so useless. Self esteem zero. Motivation gone. I lived in constant fear of setting her off. I remember laying in my bed at night barely breathing, listening if she would come upstairs to flip my light off, grab me out of bed and make me clean something I'd forgotten, or hadn't done well.

I heard from my Dad a couple weeks ago that his mother, my grandmother, used to say she worried for me because she felt I was playing the child's role in Mommy Dearest. I never got beat with wire hangers... But the movie is a bit too close for comfort just the same.

Anyway, I realized I had no way of controlling what was happening to me at that point, so when I cut I think I secretly hoped she'd see and realize what she was really doing to me on the inside, come crying to me, apologize. We'd have a grand scene and then we'd be fixed. But of course this never happened. This was teenage fantasy. But I was trying to manipulate my mother in the only way I could see could work: seeing her child in pain. Instead she told me I was an embarrassment, and I needed to stop it. It took her years to find out though. Even though I would sleep with the skin exposed, or wear the wrong shirt on occasion.

Do I manipulate people like that now? Last time I did it was the week Chris and I broke up. He'd denied my feelings once AGAIN about Jae Cee. We'd gotten into a large blow out over everything it seemed. He used to say he couldn't predict what would set me off. Well, in that relationship there were a couple sure fire things. Cheating, and then lying to my face about the cheating I knew was happening. I was getting ready to leave for Portland the next couple days. I knew when I left, our engagement, our future, and my life would be over. This was the last straw. And he didn't acknowledge it. He belittled me and all I felt, so I waited while he cooled off on his walk in my bathroom. Then I grabbed the razor almost without thinking and went to work. He came back sooner than expected and caught my arm a bloody mess.
Yes, this is horrible. Yes I'm ashamed to admit it. But at least at that point he knew. And I knew that he would go, and that would seal it. I had manipulated the situation into the exact opposite of what I wanted.
I wanted him to care. To love me as I loved him. Instead he turned and left me there in the most shattered mental state of my life. I drank a bottle of Kahlua and another of whiskey.

I imagined in my mind how that could have gone differently. What I wish he'd said or done. Wished I didn't need so desperately to be around him at that point so I could have taken a step back from it all and realized just what the fuck was going on. I was never going to win. Never. I couldn't have tried any harder with him to make it work. I really believe that. Or I never would have let the cheating come to pass, and forgiven it time and time again. For what? Empty promises and long nights waiting on him to never even show. A pregnancy he took no responsibility for. All the doubts and fears and that were completely valid. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't. I was in love.

I took too many ibuprofen and called a suicide line. They didn't help. I finished off another couple pills and laid down. I was ready to die. I had nothing left.
Needless to say I didn't die. I had a REALLY bad stomach ache the next couple days though. And a hangover. And I'd lost the person in the world I cared for most. Who literally, did not care if I lived or died.

So yes, I guess as a last ditch effort in certain situations, the cutting is a manipulation tactic, if we want to be completely honest and fair. Though without the explanation it comes of just sounding like, well, instability. Which there is sometimes.

I've cut since, of course, but with no other motivation I can clearly see other than the purpose of habit. Or personal pain from things I've done (likely accidentally) to myself. But the last serious episode, again, was last October. I'm almost a year in now... Am I getting better? I wonder for many reasons...

Sometimes, even though my mom is really trying to have a better relationship with me these days- I hate her. And I hate her, because I blame her for what I deal with everyday now. Could she REALLY not see what was happening at the time and how it shaped me? When my therapists have tried approaching the topic of abuse with her she always says "that's crazy, because she was never abused. I always loved her very much."
I denied it was abuse too. I defended her. But eventually I had to come to terms with the fact you shouldn't shake your child. Or scream (I mean it when I say scream. Not yell.) Or push. Or intimidate in that fashion. Would I do that stuff to someone I love? Never.

You may ask where my Dad was in all of this? Staying out of it. Because while Mom could never do the things to Dad she did to me, she made his life hell in other ways. And getting involved in mom's and my fights was a sure fire way to bring down her wrath. I don't blame him for looking out for himself. I wished he'd intervene sometimes. I wanted him to take my side, but he rarely did. Whenever we talk about stuff like this he always apologizes and says he wishes he hadn't been such a coward. I always say I'm just lucky to have a dad that was in my life, and saved it by moving us here after everything went to pot.

Sometimes I feel like a receptacle for all the bad that can happen in life. I feel if it's a bad situation, it's happened to me. Or will even sometimes. I guess I feel that way a little today. What sent me into this spiral of analyzing is almost trivial I'll bet you'd say.
Some idiot parked me into my space in Seattle. I maneuvered skillfully out of the space, except I tapped the guy behind me, on his bumper. The idiot had his car alarm on which sounded, and while I looked for damage and saw none I drove off feeling sick, like I had done really wrong and I was going to be in trouble. I've NEVER done that before man. I was literally squashed in there. So I hope it's all good, really, but it made me feel like shit. That alarm was fucking noisy and sounded like a cop siren. And the more I think about cops, the more I think I'm traumatized by the siren, the lights... The officers themselves. Dude, I shake sometimes when I think about it. If that isn't ptsd what is? So I drove off shaking like a leaf thinking "I have just set the tone for the day."

And now I need sleep badly. I was up for 2 days yesterday. I will write more of that in another entry, but I was really sick yesterday from not sleeping. And I didn't until I went to bed with J at 4am. Which was running on 43 or so hours no shut eye. I got 3 hours there. Then the incident happened, and now I'm home trying to work through it so I can get to sleep. The neighbors make that almost impossible, and have contributed greatly to the detriment.

How many more years, if I spend them on introspection, will it take for me to be healed? To be free of this curse? Or will I never be free and be the ten percent that it taken by the disorder?
I am self destructing even now, in situations. I can't stop. I am hell bent on my demise I think sometimes. Those who do not learn from their pasts are doomed to repeat it. I am doomed to continue to repeat situations until I work them out in my head. So, I gotta be faster. Thus, this blog. In some ways I am better. Many ways. But not enough to be satisfied with the parts I can't change yet.
No matter what I change, or how I improve, I can't change what's happened to me in my past and that's the part that will come up to haunt me. Because I can't erase the memories that made my illness. Nor the feelings they left. And the days when I can recall every bad thing in a matter of seconds, one of those days will be the next problem day. But I'm running from that for as long as possible.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Cryptic Drama

I used to be the kind of person where if something was wrong, you would look at me and know. I had a hard time not letting people in on my emotions. I wanted to talk things out, and have people understand. Now I'm only motivated to do that if I feel like someone has me pegged wrong.

This is interesting to me because we Borderlines are supposed to be dramatic people. I go out of my way to keep my life drama free these days. However, if you looked under the surface of my mellow demeanor you would see drama the last week. Why isn't important right now, but I am dealing with some stuff internally that's going on in my head. I lay down to sleep the last 2 nights and Ive thought about 2 things. They're not bad. They're not scary. They just are. And they must be dealt with shortly. But nobody knows about them. And I'm not going to share them yet. It's manifested in dreams and the outcome of that dream is one I wouldn't have expected. I think I'm apprehensive, but I haven't shown that to anyone. Nor have I shown the other emotions inside. Thus, the point being, keeping the drama out of my life and just in my head. I hope my friends would thank me for that. If it got unbearable I'd tell Bev though.

Meanwhile I ran out of pills 2 nights ago. We're into hell week. But, I'm seriously trying to do this little trick where I clear my mind by telling myself there's no reason to stress over the not sleeping. I visualize my brain being lighter. I shit you not: It helped. Not enough that it wasn't irritating or 'holy God I'm cured and can quit taking pills!' but Ill take what I can get. Weird visual to help, isnt it? I get pills again on the 7th. I always get excited on the 4th, but its the 7th. This month would be new Xanax too, but Im holding off believe it or not. Trying to make it a necessity to go in again. Which is still hangover from my Mother always telling me I wasnt sick when I was. So, I'll wait til the headaches get bad or I get a new symptom or something.

You know what irritates me? When people tell me how I feel. Or assume they know. I know me better than anyone.
Something else I've come to realize the last little while is I have become a chamelion as well. Being what people need me to be in our relationship. I mean, I'm still me granted, but if someone has a bit more abrasive personality I get abrasive too. Or someone sweet, I am that. Is this why they call us mirrors? I want people to see me as certain things I believe I am at my core. A musician, adventurous, even a bit impulsive or reckless because I'd rather be those than ordinary or boring. But I think people are lacking pieces of the fundemental me lately. And it's not their fault, it's mine. But I want people to see the crazy dirty parts sometimes. Not all the time mind you. I haven't really fallen apart in front of anyone or been just a mess since Chris. I won't let myself. And the things I've dealt with since Ive gotten to Seattle are all very private things I've internalized. Yet, I've been great about not cutting. I really feel I've grown in that. My arm is completely healed again, from that bogus night of doing it on ambien unconscious.

Things in my life are still good man. Please don't take the drama as bad stuff. And don't take the chamelion thing wrong either. I'm still me, just the me that you need most of the time.
I'm tired as hell. I hope that means I can go to sleep now. I wish I weren't sleeping alone tonight.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Break Through

I think I may have had a break through with Johnny last night. Today is 3 months officially. We've been dating for 5. Maybe I was right in trusting my instincts that it would grow over time. Anyway, I finally just started talking. And, instead of feeling like, self conscious and silly about the things I was saying I felt like we had something meaningful again.
He said he loves me, and wants to be with me, and that this is the best relationship he's ever had. I was concerned it had been too easy. I had other concerns as well I haven't really voiced in here about intentions and time frames and things. So I just sort of started in on talking, and he talked back and it was all good. I broke that communication barrier I think I'd been feeling. Which means, I'll start feeling like building the friendship part more.
Today after last night encouragement I asked if he'd come to Frank's show tonight and he said yes. But then working it out- it didn't seem to work out so we decided he should stay in Seattle. I said 'I really want you to be more a part of my life because I always come here, and we usually do what you want and things, but I guess I just want to know you want to be part of my life. He said of course I do baby I love you.' And I smiled.
(Sorry if that last paragraph was confusing. I'm writing quickly.)

So he's coming to karaoke to meet Frank in 2 weeks, because next week he's got 2 shows to play. I'm hoping he'll meet some of my other friends too. I want them to come out to the Post Adolescence shows. The point of this is just to say the connection we have is evolving into something more tangible and that feeling where I shouldn't talk to him or I can't may come and go, but for now it seems to be heading in the right direction. I am starting to feel I know him well enough and am secure enough in this now to start asking for what I want. And that is a great feeling.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Music! Music! Music!

Yesterday's band practice was harder, but amazing. And admittedly, it was harder because I was a bit of a pusher yesterday. I really wanted us to get "Nothing" down. Down so it sounded good enough to have a decent recording. Plus after hearing what Frank said about it all I pushed to incorporate his ideas because I agreed with him. So we made the guitars harder in the bridge, and did a bit of a guitar solo after the bridge, though while I'm singing the last bit.
I'm very happy with the way it turned out and am gunna upload it to myspace. Granted it's not perfect but it gives the idea. :)

In between writing this paragraph and the next I got an email from Gorilla productions again. They say the battle of the bands for the 13th is out. But asked us for Oct 11. I absolutely am stoked and said yes, even before talking to the guys but hell, plenty of time for them to clear their schedules. Lol. THEN I got an email from Josh our bassist who said he talked to their old producer and wanting to get the three songs down for an ep is gunna cost X amount, and the best time to do it is the first weekend in October. So the 3/4 in the studio. (A real studio! Holy cow!) and then the 11th debuting at Studio Seven. I am so excited. I am shocked. I am just all sorts of positive emotions right now. So much so I just had another bad ass rock melody write itself. I think I may write about what I'm feeling when I get done with this and want to focus on lyrics.

My dream when I started was to be part of a girl group. So I auditioned for one in Utah. I didn't have the right kind of voice for that particular group, but the company that was running and training them were impressed and asked if I'd work with them, because they were thinking of starting another group they thought I'd fit in well. So I worked with them for 6 months, dancing and singing and then it seemed to be going the right way. We had teamed up with a rather good boy band out of Utah that is now defunct too. But then... funding fell through and everything was put on hold. And then I moved to Seattle for the first time. Then I decided I'd be better off as a pop singer myself. I had been writing music since age 5 and I'd always wanted to record it and do something with it. But I had no idea where to begin on that. So I wrote, and sat, and did nothing for ages until I started talking to a guy online who said he could help me. So I went and recorded my first song ever at his apartment. "Mind Body Heart and Soul"and I remember how excited I was to hear it the first time. Wow. I was stoked.
Then I met my Ian sunshine bunny, and we wrote and recorded and bonded over our music. I recorded most things with him. And none of it was rock.
One weekend years later I went to spend the weekend with Wayne and he had a song written and asked if I'd do lyrics. So I did, and it became "Goodbye" which is now one I play with the band. And then I started getting into hard rock. And I decided then I wanted to be part of a rock band. Evanescence would be my inspiration.
The dream evolved into a Seattle rock band. I wanted to get back home, do rock. Then I wasn't sure how to do that, because the songs I was writing were all pop oriented before. On the ambient side almost. "Running" has always been one of my favorite songs I'd written. I wrote it about Wayne and chasing him and one day it clicked. I can make this a harder song. And then sometime after I wrote "Lullaby" intending it to be a hard rock song. And then I started thinking like a rocker. Then I joined "Metal Tears" and knew. I just knew.
Katie Kate's Monkey Punch has been something I needed in my soul, and when it was time, it came. And I wish it had come a year ago, but I guess I had to pay my dues with '2564' to get here. I appreciate the experience it gave me.

So now, here I am.

Michael and I went to Frank's show last night. Sang fairly decently. Frank always knows how to make the reverb on his mics sweet. I'd forgotten he can do that better than most karaoke hosts including me. I'm not biased on this. He knows sound really well. He was in amazing spirits. Really, very on show for him. Michael commented on it too. Then he said 'has he met someone?' I laughed and said no. I'd spoken to him earlier that day, and the day before and I'm sure he'd tell me if that had happened. We have no secrets.

Anyway, I actually helped take down the system, met the management, and then dropped Michael off home and went to Frank's. We laid around dead more or less watching Family Guy and eating the pizza he'd made as a snack. His kitty got into a fight the other night and his face is really scratched up, and he keeps licking it. I got up every once in awhile to check on him, and give him loves. One of those times I noticed Frank looking at me out of the corner of my eye and the look he was giving... It struck me. It was like he was looking at me as more than just a friendly look. Like lovingly. I didn't say anything and I didn't think about it too much until today. Maybe I'm being crazy. I've never seen that before though. Up until recently we didn't see each other more often than once every two weeks. Usually longer. When we were "dating" I way strectched it out. I didn't want to come off as needy or anything. When I started dating Johnny, Frank was well aware of what was up. And then right before Johnny and I got together we started hanging out more often than usual. The night after Johnny and I got together Frank and I went to One Eyed Jack's and did karaoke. He told me I was his favorite person to drink with. Why I took such pride in that compliment I dunno, but I liked it. When we got back to his place he sat on the couch and grabbed my hand at which point I said "Frank, Johnny and I are together now." He said something like congrats and I excused myself shortly after.
When that happened it was like, all of a sudden there was this magic thing that happen that allowed us to be friends. No worries about anything anymore. I grew into feeling like I could call him to talk, or hanging out all the time wasn't something that would come off as me trying to be his girlfriend or needy. Just hey, wanna hang? And we do. And it's easy. And until last night I didn't have a second thought about it. I'm not really having any thoughts about it actually. Just wondering what, if anything, that meant. Because it would kill me to lose that sort of friendship I have right now. I don't have to impress him anymore. I don't have to be perfect. I'm just Kate the friend. Not Kate the date, hehehe. And getting to see him at least twice a week is great. I think we're gunna try and rollerblade again before the weather changes.

Side note: Bought the new Imogen Heap album. We will see if I like it as much as the first. I got it because they didn't have the album I wanted Hoobastank's 'Every Man For Himself.' I love that album. I miss the hell out of it. Another all killer no filler IMHO.

I've written another long entry and included thoughts again, so I guess I haven't sworn them off entirely. And tonight is a Johnny night, so I gotta get ready for that. I'll be back tomorrow or the next day.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009


It's finally Tuesday, which means it's time to see Johnny again.

I feel so off today. Not helping, I scared myself this morning. I suppose I'll recall the events leading up to this.

Yesterday was Frank's bday. He managed to get off work a little earlier than expected so I went to his place. He had already started in on the whiskey. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek when I got there. Pulling a me. Maybe I'm rubbing off on him. He's rubbing off on me. I always say "thanks, man" and I'm pretty sure I picked that up from him. Anyway, we went to Tasters Wok again, and the karaoke host Sabrina is really great. Michael met us there as well, and Michael totally digs Sabrina so it was fun watching them interact. Meanwhile we're singing and laughing and having a good time. I only had a couple drinks though. There was a crowd of regulars for Mondays sitting at the next table and they were very nice. One of the guys let me bum 3 cigs off of him, and I don't bum normally. I usually buy them, but he wouldn't let me. So that was lovely.

Getting to the end of the night I of course, am gunna drive Frank home and promised to see Michael at the 13th ave on Friday for Frank's bands' show. We stopped for food on the way back to his place, and he got some sort of spicy burrito. Then I had another shot of whiskey as we sat around and talked. I find it odd I can shoot whiskey, and not vodka now. Even though I'd much rather drink vodka than anything. Eventually I tucked his drunk ass into bed and came home. He said I love you as I was leaving. I smiled and said I love you too.
I posted to facebook at the end of the night as I usually do, and popped my pills.
Don't do anything else tonight I said to myself. Get changed, do your night time stuff, go the hell to bed.
I never listen to good advice even if it is mine. I blacked out right after. I ate a hard boiled egg by itself, called Frank again who thankfully didn't answer the phone, posted to facebook about not feeling well. And then some I love you bullshit on Johnnys page. Sigh. Then the scary part: I finished off the rum that was in the house for making a drink when Dad and I are sick. I don't know how much it was. I don't remember doing it. I don't know why exactly I saw a need to keep drinking in my state, but apparently fucking crazy Kate thought liquor would def add something more to that point in the evening. I'm always interested to see what I've been up to because I always leave evidence of it around after. The egg shell in the sink, the bottle on the counter, the checking on facebook, and of course the phone calls the next day from people saying you called, or, why did you call? I simply told Frank I took my pills and apparently felt like having a chat. Don't remember it though. Sorry about that.
And it's not like I ever get the notion to talk at a decent hour. It's always 6 or 7 am. I am always so embarrassed about it. I always now get up thinking what did I do. Unless I remember drifting off. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

This is all happening after Michael Jackson's death is being ruled a homicide because of a cocktail of drugs a doctor administered because he couldn't sleep. I posted about it actually. Now I am here.
The only time I have ever been really distraught over someone I didn't know who died was Heath Ledger. I liked him as an actor, but I was a wreck for an hour or so. Chris just held me unsure what to say or make of it as I wailed "don't you see? That's going to be me!"

And I am scared. Because I still believe that.

And it has been building and building and building. I can remember sitting on the couch in the front room as a middle schooler, praying someone would wake up and come down and keep me company. But they never did. And I can remember moving to the island and playing the sims every night until 3am even though I had school the next day because I couldn't sleep. And I can recall finally going to the doctor about the headaches soon after and finding they were likely due to a lack of sleep. I think it was 2 years later I began the ambien. Then I started drinking because I turned 21. And that's when the initial weirdness started. So I learned not to do both at the same time. But with no one around, I didn't care. I wanted to have fun, and go to sleep.
But then Chris would stay over sometimes and I'd get crazy on him. I can't imagine how hard it would be have been to be with me on those nights. I don't envy him that. I think there were things he'd do that made it worse though. After awhile I was never the best version of myself around him on ambien or not. He made me suspicious and angry and say snipey things. I hated who I was after awhile. I'm not mean or anything mind you. I don't hurt myself or anyone. I am just... Weird. Sometimes I get sad I'm told by my Dad. I think I know why. At my core I have always been tragically depressed. It's only been the last year and change I've been really happy. But the thought crosses my mind everyday that it could just as easily be taken away. And I wonder what I'd do, and I'm not ready to face that.

Five years I've taken that drug. I've built a tolerance to it. Eight years with serious, chronic, unrelenting insomnia, with periods of hypersomnia sprinkled in there when my body wants a recharge. Two years since I discovered the ectacy and agony of Xanax. The only real thing that worked. I drift off, like you're supposed to. I lay down because I have no choice. There is a moment of pure euphoria that washes over me when my brain says oh my god, we're going to sleep now. And then, at the beginning anyway, I'd sleep for ten hours. And I'd wake up and I could remember things. And I had energy. And I felt so fucking ALIVE like I'd never known on a physical level.
And then I got addicted. And I had to ween myself off of them for the first time. Dean to his eternal credit helped by stealing 3 of his roommate's xanies. I left money for in one of her pants pockets hoping she'd just think she'd forgotten about it, while still paying for the pills. If we had asked permission, she never would have let us. Dean's room mate at the time was Amy, the only girl I've ever really gotten into a fight with. Well, near fight I suppose. Anyway, I don't feel bad about that even though I probably should. I weened myself off properly and stopped taking them.
I don't think I realized how well Dean treated me at the time either. I was still wallowing in the whole Chris with Diana thing, which was the worst blow. Hoping somehow we'd end up back together. Dean I think, though not deeply in love with me was in love with me, and I'm afraid I really broke his heart. I think I'll call him and tell him I'm sorry, and that I appreciated him.

But then I was on again. And off again. And on again, and then lo and behold addicted again, with no resources to ween off. So I went cold turkey. It was 4 days of hell, nothing like the 2 days of irritation the weening was. I promised I'd never get addicted again. But then, even in the time I've been writing this blog I realized one day I was having symptoms. Knowing what it was I did exactly what I had to do. And now I'm off them again. Though dear god I would KILL for some right now.

Then last September rolled around, and just as I predicted the worst happened, and I wound up in the ICU.
And now I feel like I'm just waiting for it to happen again sometimes. The further along I get, the less I feel the pills, the less sleep I get and the more desperate I get, it's all a fucking recipe for disaster. The last REALLY good sleep I got was the entry I entitled "napping fucking rules." It means so much when I get good sleep, I actually blog about it. How fucked up is that?
Dying doesn't scare me. Like I said, I kinda look forward to it in ways. What does scare me is I'm gunna do it accidentally. In a haze of nothingness, and won't see it coming, even though I have total control over it.

I hope people can have sympathy for me when I do these amazingly stupid things. I hope they realize I can't help it, and I don't mean it. And obviously I'm not thinking or I wouldn't.

So yeah maybe that's contributing to my off feeling. I'm gunna have a little cry, and then I'm gunna head to the beach. Maybe I can get away from the noise here and just reset myself. Then I'm gunna try and talk to Johnny. We're not far enough along for him to have to be dealing with these things. Now isn't the time for him to be dealing with my stuff at all. So I'm gunna clear my head, and spend the evening trying to reconnect with my boyfriend I haven't seen in 5 days, and what feel like longer...

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Band/Frank in Seattle

How early am I up again? God. I can see dying from this today. I was up for over 24 hours again. I had to get up early for band practice yesterday. The day before that had to get up early for Johnny. Wednesday I just had bad sleep issues. It's culminating into imagining myself laying down and never waking up. Not that a break from the pain wouldn't be nice. Lucky it's Sunday and I don't have to worry about doing anything.

Yesterday at band practice we finally decided on a name which is great because we've been dealing with that for weeks now. Totally based off a joke the drummer said, we have been coined Katie Kate's Monkey Punch. When I told my Dad he just laughed and said it was perfect for knowing the guys. I was happy cuz it's my name in the title heh. That and it's a respectful throwback to the 90s music I know and love. So, I began designing a logo for us yesterday, redid the myspace site, sent out a long email sketching out a game plan from here, did some research, and spent the rest of the day just pretty busy on band business. We're making progress. Things are moving along as far as what a band can do in the initial stages. I'm excited.

Johnny and I didnt have our usual Saturday night together for the second time in 2 weeks. Last week cuz of his cold, and this because he is in the studio recording his debut album. I'm excited for him and very happy he's doing it. He's doing it again today as well. Anyway, since it got cancelled, just as I was thinking of heading to bed, Frank called. I, except for the last 2 weeks as well, don't get to see Frank on the weekends. He's always gigging on weekends. His gig yesterday was in Tacoma and ended early so he asked if I wanted to go out. I said sure! Fuck being exhausted. So he said he felt like driving to Seattle, so I rattled off about 16 of the places and what was going on and he decided on 80s music at the Noc Noc. So, I got dressed and we went. I played him the songs on the set list I wanted feedback on on the drive there. Frank is always super tactful but honest when it comes to that sort of thing. He said 'Nothing' is a great song, but the dynamics need to be more accentuated. I agree completely. He liked 'Full Throttle', though the guitarist was off the day we recorded this cut. I won't play him 'Running' until I get a decent take with the vocals not being complete dog shit. Anyway he said he's excited to come see us play and that we sound like a good rock band. Yay! I respect his opinion more than just about anybody's right now when it comes to the music.

We got downtown and looked for parking for a bit, discussing the Lady Gaga album and assorted other bullshit. Then as we walked to the Noc Noc we passed a couple other bars, the Whiskey Bar being most noted. I said if the first stop was lame we could always bar hop. Well we had a couple drinks, and we danced to Michael Jackson, but the club was so noisy and I was not feeling the crowd there at all. I didn't feel there was anybody approachable to interract with. So I made noises about maybe switching and Frank and I are very similar in the sense that we don't really care what we do, we just sort of save the foot down for important things. So we decided to walk to the Whiskey Bar, since he's a big whiskey drinker and I've never been. I always want to see new places given the opportunity.

On the walk there we passed the Nite Lite where Johnny's friend and manager Val was smoking outside. Crazy coincidence. So I gave her a hug and introduced her to Frank. Said where we were headed, and she said that she and Tim would be heading to Sophie's at one. I said we might join them and we proceeded on our way.
The bar itself was really warm inside, almost unbearably so. The menu listed all sorts of shots most being like, 11 dollars. I ordered a vodka cran and waited while Frank polished off something 114 proof. Then I said I'd really kind of like to go to Sophie's. I thought it would be nice to have a conversation with Val and get to know her a little more. Not trying to interject myself into Johnny's life anymore than he wants, but since I was invited I decided it would be fun. So we walked there and got a table. Had a short conversation, and soon Val showed up.
It was nice. I was worried Frank might feel left out, but he kept up and interracted like a pro. I think I worried because he's an introvert in his core, and I think I just overlooked the fact that he's a performer as well, and he's always been willing to be social when already out. Plus he was pretty drunk. But not sloppy drunk. Just, you know, delightfully buzzed.
I drove his car home because he got a little more drunk than he intended to be, and I was more or less sober by the end of the evening. I left him when he drifted off watching Fatal Attraction. I'll see him again on Monday.

Anyway, I'd take a nap now, but the neighbors are playing their GOD DAMN MUSIC AGAIN! I'll watch tv until they die down. Mother fuckers.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Jon 2

Sorry about ending the last entry. I was pretty drunk, and had taken my ambien. I did more crazy shit last night, I don't remember doing any of it. Luckily the only person I texted was Johnny which was an i love you text, but I was startled to see it this morning just the same. I did learn one thing: I can still write pretty well when wasted. I've written entries when I have a buzz fading at the end of the night. That was the first one I'll look back on as impressed. Anyway, without further ado I give you part 2.

The first night I came home reeling. I could tell he was attracted to me. I'm pretty sure I asked him to hang again before he could me though. We decided to do sushi a couple nights later at a nice restaurant near the water. He ordered in Japanese which was cool. The night was nice, but he talked a lot about his Japanese teacher. I drank sake and listened politely. Eventually we ended back at his place again, smoking, talking, and at one point he said "you know you can sit closer." I realized I'd been giving him space. I liked him and I wanted to be closer to him, but I was intimidated. It had been rare I'd been intimidated by someone before. So I sat next to him and he put his arm around me. I was guessing by that alone I hadn't come off as a lot of the girls he knew. I knew he knew I liked him. But I questioned why exactly. After a couple more glasses of wine he leaned in to kiss me. I didn't pull back.
The next night we ended up having sex. There was nothing really romantic or special about it. It was what it was. We continued to hang out for the next month, til he had to return to Austin. His interest in me faded a lot I noticed. I can understand why it happened from his perspective. I promised to hold onto his books til he returned on tour, and to keep in touch.
I'd text on occasion. Sometimes he'd text back, but mostly not. Sometimes he'd ask if he could call. Then he'd talk for a long time about his plan to come back, or his plan to go to Japan. He'd talk about his ideas for the next record, and his intended internet business. Eventually I'd have to tell him I had to go. Then on Christmas he sent me a text after not talking to me for a couple months. "Merry Christmas Kate, how are you?" I sent him one back saying I was good. Then he asked if he could call? I said yes and we spoke again for 2 hours. I knew for a fact he was lonely. I thought it odd he chose me first of all, and odd a man who is adored by many was as lonely as he was.
I'd hear from him again maybe a handful of times before he left for Japan, and then his tour. At one point he talked about rooming together when he came back. Then he talked about buying me a plane ticket out to Austin to come visit him. He was sending mixed signals, and finally I just said to myself I don't know how to deal with this. Friendship is great if he wants it. I'm not gunna try and read his mind anymore though. So I let it go until I got to Salt Lake to see him perform. Getting to hang on the tour bus was cool. I decided then and there I wanted one. He was cordial, and we talked more about me than him for the first time since I'd known him.
Then the very next night he snubbed me. Hard core. I wondered what the hell had changed since the day before? Michael told me he'd gotten a girlfriend. I didn't care. All I wanted was a hello. I was the only person who showed up to the Seattle show he'd known in the entire six months he'd lived here. That was how it was. And yes, it hurt.

This comes to my mind because I got a text a couple days ago saying he was moving back and wants to see me. So, he arrives in 2 weeks. It'll make him happy and that's good, and I'd like to be able to talk to him about what happened. That's about where the story ends for now though.

On a side note Johnny Haro (The drummer for the Dreaming) has been great about texting. If I text him, he always texts back. I don't talk to him that often but when I do he's always super sweet. There was a day we were having a text conversation while I was in the library and somehow the subject of VAST actually came up. Turns out they had written a song with Jon that never made the album. When I said I knew Jon from when he had lived here Johnny was surprised. We spoke for a few more minutes of industrial 90s music then he had to return to work and I returned to looking for books. Today is Johnny's birthday, and so we spoke today. He says the new songs are amazing and they'll be on the road again as soon as the album gets made. Good, becuase that first album had not one single bad song on it. Not one. And besides, it'll be good to see Carlton, Johnny, and Brent again. There are Dreaming adventures yet to be had.


I was thinking tonight about the history I've had with Jon. (Not Mr. Blue Eyes.)

Long before Jon knew I existed, I knew he did. His song, his lyrics... Some of them touched me in the way only life long loves do. "Touched," ""Flames," "We Will Meet Again..." Yeah, those songs moved me. Made me feel something. His band was always one of my favs. Since Travis talked me into liking them. I never thought, in a million years, I would meet and interact with him. One of his songs had an impact on my life, on one particular dark night I'm not ready to share yet. But his words were there... Comforting me. Perhaps egging me on...
Anyway, so I found his myspace. I didn't write him right away. I didn't want to. But I loved reading his blogs. They were relevant, and funny. Finally one day I got up the balls to send him and email. I told him how much I liked his humor, and hey, I was in Seattle too. I knew the cool spots, and if he ever wanted someone to show him round certain spots I would.
I didn't expect any response.
When I got an email back I shook. Literally. I saw it there, afraid to open it. Dear God, had it really happened? Had someone I looked up to musically actually written an email back?!? I clicked gingerly on the email and holy god. It was him.
He thanked me for the email. Said I was funny too. Described how he'd ended up in Seattle. Told me some interesting things. Then lo and behold he asked how to get ahold of me.
It shouldn't be this easy I scolded myself. You've looked up to this particular songwriter for years. How fucked up would it be if he actually exchanged contact information with you?
But then he did.

We wrote back and forth for a week before we decided to call. Believe it or not, he called first. As I saw the contact information light up on my phone that afternoon I began to shake. I wasn't sure the last time I'd been this nervous. Fuck, I had no idea why. We'd been talking for 2 weeks. I'd known he was gunna call. It wasn't like this was Justin Timberlake calling or anything. I answered the phone and managed to keep it cool. He asked when we could get together. I told him I had plans the next 3 days, but after that green light. He said cool. Lemme know. Keep in touch.

I went to Seattle for something 2 nights later. My plans finished early and I thought to myself, I wonder if Jon's available. So, I rang him. He was at some bar with his room mate, and invited me over. I took a deep breath and headed to first Ave.

I found the bar. Jon was waiting outside for me. I got out of the car, took a couple deep breaths and trodded towards the 2 guys waiting. Jon looked nothing like I had imagined him to be. Still recognizable, he looked different. This, made it easier. We hugged and went inside to drink. He bought me one, though I bought the rest. We talked the whole time. Me sitting there thinking, damn, this is surreal. I'm sitting here with one of the people I look up to musically, and I'm having a normal conversation. Something about trance music, and ex relationships, and Texas, and record deals. Wow. It was just... Yeah, surreal.

As the night drew to a close he said "wanna come back to my place? I have wine." I smiled still unsure what to make of everything and said "sure." So we went back to his place, in West Seattle. A small apartment in Sodo. We went straight to his room and talked FOR HOURS. Jon likes to talk though granted, it's mostly about himself. I have coined him as having LSD, Which is Lead Singer Disease. We drank wine and talked til way after 8am or so. Then I said I had to go. I couldn't spend the night there.

And here is where I end this installment. More soon, after sleep. Hang tight, the story gets better from here...;)

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Too Personal

I haven't written in a few days because I've been mulling things over in my head. I should mull them over in here as I used to, but a couple events have shaped how I feel about how honest I've been in this blog. Perhaps, too honest. I'm not sure my complete self, thoughts, experiences are good. Make me a good person.
Part of what goes into this was allowing Johnny to read part of it, because I asked if he wondered what I wrote about him. He said he did, and so I debated whether to give it to him for 30 mins. I finally did, and apparently it was sort of a bad idea. He sees the relationship going differently. I asked him how and the only thing he said was he didn't see it being such an ordeal. So full of pain.
I'm wondering what he read exactly, because it hasn't been a painful ordeal. There have been parts that have been painful. Mostly the parts when I didn't think he really cared either way about me back. And, the beginning part with Amber. He won't read it again though, so I suppose it is what it is.
He didn't want to talk about it after that. One sentence and over. He doesn't want to know. What does that say exactly?
Amber has the address to this, and I know she reads all the entries. I know she doesn't tell Johnny what I've said. Anything I've said to her though, I've disclosed to him at this point. The stuff in here could be misconstrued however. I don't want that at all. I gave him the entries so he could talk to me about any questions. Also, so he could just see how much in the privacy of my sort of public diary, I have written about how wonderful I think he is.
This is a diary after all. Which is probably why it makes for decent reading. Because I write this the way I used to write in my journal every night.
Beyond that I suppose I'll get the events of the week down.

After Frank and I went to dinner on Sunday I stayed until midnight chatting and watching the food network. When I got home I got online and talked to Johnny for awhile. Atl 4 he decided to go to bed. He still had that damn cold, so he went to make theraflu. When he was messing with the kettle he burned himself with the steam. It was bad. He got back on messenger and told me what had happened and he thought he needed help. I left immediately and picked up supplies on the way for the burn.
It was pretty bad when I got there. After he debated me for awhile I insisted we go to the E.R so off we went. Spent the morning there, trying to make him laugh, keeping him company. Finally the doctor came round took care of it all, and we went back to his place. The sun had been rising for awhile. We both commented we hadn't had a morning like that since our coke days. Really, it kind of made me anxious. It was a close reminder. So I popped an ambien and laid down. He laid down next to me and we were asleep soon after.
Monday I spent with him, as he called into work. Nothing interesting to write of. I was EXHAUSTED from 4pm on though. I kept telling myself if I laid down for a nap, I was wasting the extra time I had with Johnny. I refused so I pulled through in that state til 5am when we both went to bed again. Tuesday I left pretty soon after he woke up, as he had made plans with Amber. I stuck around just long enough to say goodbye.
Went back Tuesday night, though I was itching to go out. I hadn't had anything to drink since the last Wed. I spent my first weekend in ages completely sober. I had spent nearly a week in ages completely sober. I hadn't interacted with anyone but Johnny and Frank in a week. I was going a little stir crazy. I would have just gone out and then gone to Johnny's, but I didn't get ready fast enough, and I wasn't sure where to go.
Johnny had wine though, and when I got there he had bought a little Eeyore figurine for me. I have lots of Eeyore things and it really was thoughtful. So I was happy and drinking the wine made the social thing go away. For that day anyway.

Yesterday I woke up in Seattle next to him and he had an early work day so I came home and did my usual Wed routine. Get a salad from McD's, watch an hour of tv, get pissed off at the neighbor's music, try to nap anyway. Then I get up, go to band practice and come home. Band practice was sort of a bust as our drummer and rhythm guitarist couldn't come, so I spent the hours playing a metallica cover, rehearsing one of the ones that I wrote, and writing a new short jam piece. Maybe I'll start writing lyrics to it. It has potential. Then I needed to take back some overdue cds from the library, so I went and returned the materials. I got some new books I'm excited to read, and I spent what felt like forever at the grocery store. Came home, extremely tired again. Was about to call it an early night but decided to check my music myspace, and upload 2 new songs. I had a message. It was Liz from Studio Seven asking if I'd be interested in playing Seattle battle of the bands. I freaked out. Of course I was interested. Not only that but playing at Studio Seven has been a dream since I saw The Dreaming and VAST there. To be on the same stage seemed improbable for awhile. Yet, it seems it's going to be the first solid offer for the new project. Holy cow. To be acknowledged, recognized... To have the honor of even being invited is amazing. I was so stoked. Johnny's band apparently was as well, but he says they don't do anything like that. I'm always excited for an opportunity to perform. I realize maybe he feels he doesn't have to compete. I'm not gunna really be there for the competition. He also says he's heard it's a bad venue to play for. I don't care. It's a validation thing for me. I don't care if we win, but I know Lullaby is a solid good song. I've never heard someone say they dislike it. Hell, my parents even like it. My worry is that I got the email a little late. But I'm taking it as a positive thing. The signs point to it. I'm excited for the future.
I uploaded "I Never Had You" which I recorded live and it happens to be one of two I'm rather proud of to do with Chris. I'm finally working *my* process of getting over it. I want to record the one I did about Johnny soon. It's kind of a love song. It's a first, I don't really do love songs.

Today I went to lunch with my Dad at a mongolian grill and we talked politics. Came home and took a nap, now I'm up writing this and needing a shower. Haven't had a cig since tuesday night. Considering going out for them. Anyway, Dad and I are gunna watch a movie and do dinner when he gets home from weight watchers. Then back to Johnny's.

So you're caught up on my experiences, though not many of my thoughts. Not sure I trust them as much anymore. But I'm still here. Still letting you in my heart.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Weird bits

I was motivated to write. I've taken my ambien. I can tell I'm not all here. I'm supposed to do sushi with Frank tomorrow. Exciting. I was supposed to see Johnny tonight, but because he's sick it got canceled. I spent the night watching tv and doing chores. Lame for a Saturday. I started getting strict again today on my diet Ive lacked for so long.
I also began writing an important letter I think.

I need to take care of shit on Monday. Instead I'm gunna zone out to The Downward spiral for now. Sleep must come soon.

I don't understand how people see fit to judge me, when they don't have all the facts. It seems this is going on with a few people in my life. Who do they think I am exactly? I have strength. I have a voice. I do pick my battles in life. Even on a different spectacle why would I chose something that could be over something that's good now? I think things through, for as impulsive as I am. Let me say because you see the nice person I've been, and I am nice- Does not mean you have me pegged as that. You'd be surprised. I am solid. But I am an illusion. You haven't seen all of me yet. You may never see all of me if I don't trust you.

You are someone else. I am still right here.

scraping through my head til i dont want to sleep anymore...

I should lay down. I don't like what I'm thinking much. Ambien is fucking weird.