running list

for the month-long good-bye i've got to say to austin:

- a wednesday night at flips with mte and southpaw
- a sunday night at the saxon with what's left of "the resentments" - completed 11/22
- a wednesday night at the continental with jon dee and james mcmurtry
- a thursday night at lucky lounge with ian maclagan
- a wednesday night at the broken spoke with dale watson
- a movie or 40 at the alamo
- sangria margaritas at el chile
- deluxe chicken enchiladas with deluxe tomatillo sauce at chuy's
- rudy's bbq
- a trip to lockhart for bbq - completed 11/28
- lots of amy's ice cream
- homeslice - i might fit that in with the wednesday night at the continental
- a burger and a game at the tavern
- take a bath in sweet leaf pomegranate green tea
- a michael jackson cupcake
- an "art fair" weekend in gruene
- a show at gruene hall - maybe reckless kelly
- more...

**more - so much music going on in the next month and a half!:
- continental club:
- 11/19 - ian moore
- 12/1 - david garza
- 12/3 - chili cold blood
- 12/7 - beginning of "crybear" residency at the gallery (free) and crybear is david garza
- all of december - alejandro escovedo tuesday night residency
- other:
- 11/18 - kevin devine @ emos
- 11/24 - neko case @ antones
- 12/4 & 5 - the mother hips @ emos

WHAT?!

i'm sure i'll be adding to this list as time goes on...

i can't believe i almost forgot - a hey cupcake! cupcake. probably a michael jackson. how do you write a drool sound?

SO angry!

i don't even know why i'm still SO angry at this person. i've resolved that they're a lazy retard who insists on fucking my stuff up, but i'm STILL mad!

i'm usually ok at resolving and moving on, but not this one. i want to beat her senseless with a meat hammer and drag her bloody body around the office by her hair so that everyone knows what happens when you needlessly piss me off.

GAH!

dream

so i dreamt last night that i was a "kept woman" by some super rich dude that lived behind a hospital.
i remember swinging outside of a window of a very tall building, suspended from a helicopter and the dude's assistant was with me, then we had to go away from the building because we were in restricted air-space and then we were just hanging out in mid-air in the middle of nothing suspended by this helicopter. i was only mildly scared which is weird for me.
i remember going to super rich dude's office and finding him in a meeting, so i went down to the lunch room where everyone else was and they had weird tvs and games and stuff down there. when i was down there, it was like everyone knew but didn't know who i was. weird.
i lastly remember walking up and down the parking structure of the hospital in front of super rich dude's house and telling security that i could go up to a restricted part of the structure because that was the way i came in and that was the only way for me to get out and, while i was heading up there, judith light - the mom from "who's the boss" - was coming out of the hospital with a lot of paparazzi following her and she was coming up the restricted way that i was in. i looked in front of me and there was a whole buffet of food and booze that judith light's friends were chowing down on, waiting for her.

i dream funny things.

i want

the body of someone who is taller than me and who can squeeze me harder than i can squeeze them here. now. i need to hug some of this shit out. really badly.

observation

my appendix scar has a muffin top.

just thought that was worth sharing.

so...

i wrote a verse. to a song. last night. and there were other words floating around it, but there is most definitely a solidified song verse there. and music. but i don't know how to make it.

it's kind of weird. i'm not sure what it feels like. maybe like the first acupuncture needle? maybe i need to wait til it's all done? maybe it'll feel like writing a song and there's nothing else that feels like that?

weird.

maybe I didn't write it. maybe someone inhabiting my body did it.

perfection

"to love or be loved is no crime. the really criminal thing is to make a person believe that he or she is the only one you could ever love."

henry miller

the perfect combination

i think i've found the perfect (for me) lebowski combination:

- xanax - since i don't have pot, this is a perfectly acceptable substitute
- pizza rolls
- beer

blissful.

whoa

i never thought robert mitchum could get sexier, but he just did... australian accent and salacious language with deborah kerr... that's how.

rawr!

thinking

i think i need more gregory page in my life. i know i write him off because he's a "love-maker" not a "fucker" but, you know what, i think i could use a piece of that tender love-making right now. not necessarily on a sexual level, but on a whole life level.

thinking

going through the cds is harder than going through the books. every one i pick up to put away and in a box get an "awww... i remember when {insert event here}".
sometimes i look at the covers and say "i'm going to miss you" and then kiss them. or i hug them close to my chest. or i linger over the liner notes.

this is so weird. i want to cry like a baby. in a good way.

i like this:

danny elfman has a line in a song:

"if i could change the future, i would change the past instead"

i agree. i liked hearing that today.

i just did a VERY scary thing

and backed up my current itunes library to my ipod in disk mode and DELETED my itunes from my system hd. because it's too small to take ALL of my music. i had to delete what i had so i could make room for more.

i REALLY hope this works. i'm going to cry harder than i did that one time that that heartless ahole did that thing to me if it doesn't work. i see projectile vomit in my future.

grandmas

grandmas, mimis, granmamas, nanas, etc. have a really weird and very distinctive smell. i smelled it again today and it was super strong. strong enough for me to FINALLY pinpoint the mixtures of smells that make this uniquely grandma scent:

3 parts old person
4 parts menthol-y cream - bengay, aspercream, tiger balm - you choose
millions of parts powder. loose loose powder
1 part polident
1 part sink bath
2 parts coral-colored lipstick
3/4 parts musty old church smell

they should bottle this and sell it to the ladies at the nursing homes. maybe if enough of them doused themselves in it, it would disguise the odor of death, urine, decay and defeatism.

the original "tiger beat"

i'm selling all my books to this used book store. and i'm doing it one box at a time because, well, because i fuckin' feel like doing it one box at a time. and it's dangerous because they make you stay in the store while they look through and price what you're selling.
i fell into the trap the first day - i went traipsing about the store looking around and found a used thrush hermit cd!!! they're canadian and you can't get ANY of their shit here!! so i bought it. i made $44.50 on my book sale and spent $6.75 on the cd, netting $37.75. i told the guy that they were going to get it back anyway, i consider it a "rental" fee. this really isn't going to help my reason for doing this.
the second day, i came in with a plan: find a book - preferably something with several copies on the shelf and one that i haven't read before - and sit in one spot and read the book while they price. so i did.

the book: herodotus, "histories".

i'm head-over-heels for the writing style of this book. maybe it's the interpreter. maybe it's how it was originally written, i don't know. but it reads like time's first "tiger beat" magazine. "tiger beat" magazine with greek names.
"atys did this and this and this. and then corseus did that and that and that. and then they sent all this gold to this god's temple. but that was only according to the persians! wait 'til you hear how the greeks told it!" et cetera, et cetera, et cetera (in the king of siam voice).
there are 4 (maybe more) accounts of daughter snatching for wiving in the first 3 pages alone! this is choice reading!
do they really have whole college classes on this book?!!? it's AMAZING. i'm so in love with the ridiculousness of it. love love love.

fuck perez hilton and people magazine - read herodotus!!

i think it's officially a "problem" now.

my addiction to sweet leaf pomegranate green tea that is. case in point: i go to the corner market to get an icy cold bottle of said narcotic and the hipster checking me out said...
hipster checker: "you know, they just started a promotion today where if you buy 6 bottles of tea, you get that nifty reusable sweet leaf grocery/tote bag thingie. and since it's, like, the only thing you buy here, well, i thought i'd let you know."
me: "do you think you'll still have some bags on saturday? that's the day i'm planning on coming in and buying a whole butt-ton of sweet leaf."
hipster checker: "i don't know, they sent us 60 bags and it's 'while supplies last', so..."
me: "i'll live on a wing and a prayer that they're still here then. if they are, then i'm meant to have one."
hipster checker: "if we're out, i'll give you a jose ole burrito for your trouble."
me: "sweet!"

they've got me pegged, those damn hipsters.

i only get the jose ole burritos one out of every four or so times i get a tea.

i swear.

consolidating

is weird and oddly comforting. i wish i could so it with everything. including mental stuff. :)

...

jane russell is friggin' CUTE!! what a sass-pot. and she sings! and she has FABULOUS legs!

rawr.

forget leslie caron or esther williams - i want to be jane russell when i grow up.

2 things

1. the best line i've heard all week: "we could be apart for 10 years, and you put us in a room and someone's going to get pregnant."

2. i'm ECSTATIC about sleeping with the windows open for the first time in months!! woo hoo!!

dear house of blues

i would like to thank you for taking all the awesome, dirty, rawness of the live music experience and shitting on it by turning your venues into sterile amusement parks.
oh, yes - an amusement park - replete with stands where you can buy beer or "crawfish", stands where you can buy swag for the venue, and even people with cameras coming around to take your photo while the people who are trying to make a living by coming to your establishment to play are relegated to the back-most corner of the room to sell their merch - the thing that feeds those people that are on the road day in and day out to entertain us.

as well, house of blues, i would like to thank you for attracting the houston's finest douchebaggery contingent. dudes with tight, american apparel deep-vs, drunk bottle blondes with scary heels and precarious outfits making out with greasy, gross dudes - people who go to creed concerts and who go to church to network - fuck facebook! god's the ultimate networking tool! thank you for making it all so clean so everyone can be so dirty.

live music should come with a smell - a healthy sweat from jumping around and enjoying the music - a buzz in your head and body from the musical energy - a laughter and just a little bit of healthy fear of the unknown and the willingness to go for it - anything but the sterile air-conditioned grayness that you, house of blues, have made.

at least i got to bask in the awesome raw sex energy of that heartless drummer from afar for a little while. that beautiful man kinda made me forget my disgust for a bit.