like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway

halfway through the tour. more like a little more than half perhaps. trapped on the sad side of kansas city. across the bridge by the factories. last nights show was great in tahlequah oklahoma, which means in cherokee "two is enough", actually had a decent crowd with some people there who were under thirty. went to a ridiculous karaoke bar after the show, where the announcer said that we were the touring performers from out of town. we were the biggest thing going on wed night in tahlequah, i'll tell you that. i did some of my classics "on the road again" which seemed obvious, lee and peter did "love shack" really well, i heard several yokels say 'damn man she's alright'. later i sang 'suspicious minds' while soft porn, no shit, some skinimax film on the karaoke screen. it was a trip. lost all my per diem at the casino and centerfolds (higgins) gonna stay in tonight and play cards... tomorrow... IOWA.

Off-off shore

amazing boat party last night on the all new Ladybird Lake. really really fucking incredible. even before we left the dock there was just this excitement in the air. everyone was just so mesmerized by the fact that we were going to be on a boat. like a boat. in the water. a new experience for those that don't own boats or live in a boating style community where people have weekly and bimonthly boating meetings, that eventually end in boating parties. we crashed it with grace. it was crystal's going away party for she is moving to spain (tear/jealousy) we got hammered. mixed around with people. listened to some bands. not that impressive. danced to some michael jackson.. then lee taped garcia and travis' heads together. wonderful.

allergies are killing me.

Okay, the moths, or gnats, or whatever the hell they were have seemed to subside. But now I wake up in tears and sniffles. Its super annoying, and it makes me feel like i'm living in a lifetime made for tv drama... Like my husband just left me and i cry myself to sleep everynight. then cry myself waking. which is a weird feeling. like it's happening right now. tears running down my face. i can't figure it out. when the day gets going i usually feel better. it's just these first couple of hours that destroy me. I also need to find a new job. can anyone help me. either some morning work before 2pm, or some night work that starts after 7pm. someone come to my aid with suggestions/ideas. i have many sweet skills. word. I'm going to go cry in bed some more. I can't believe he left me and took the kids.

esperando...

i held her hand... if only for a brief instant.

things that torment children

theres this weird part in charlotte's web where she's telling wilbur a story of one of her cousin spiders who made a web over a pond, and a fish got stuck in the web, and thrashed her web, and the spider thought that she was going to drown in the water from the weight of the fish, but it turns out that the fish dies in the web, and then the spider eats the fish when it is damn well ready.

dang

i think i just realized that my life's goal is to not work. hopefully that will start soon. there are plenty of things that i can get paid for that i don't consider work. at least not in that painful 9 to 5 office, restaurant, warehouse type way. i wish i could dj somewhere at least twice a week.

cantanker

Really nice vibe last night at the cantanker party. Lots of dancing. I was really on with the whole style. And I recorded the whole set. YES! There were some really lovely artist types there as well. I wish I would have had more time to mill around and meet people.

put it in the dumpsta.

last night was insane. went to see ivan neville's dumpstaphunk at the parish. lee and scott (wingpeople) it was a funky good time. danced in the front until drunken las vegas housewife, jabbed her sloshy spiked heel directly into the destroyed foot. did some sitting after that, but still feelin' really funky. great band. really positive messages. disgusting jb's medley. and learned the mantra, that whenever something is getting you down in life with whatever... you just 'put it in tha dumpsta'. left the funk behind, had some drinks at a bar, where lee and i lapped spilt whisky off the cover of a chronicle like basset hounds. drove back to scott's, drank more. scott talked me into snorting hydracodone. horrible idea. i'm still extracting hydra c boogers. (don't judge me) played poker when hugo joined us from work. everyone did their best catwalk moves. hugo took the cake. belligerent crew of drunks at magnolia. didn't eat any of my food. went back to hugos at 8am and passed out after he made us some sort of weird yogurt beverage. in the morning the yogurt had separated from the alcohol. putrid. smoothies put color back in my face. just woke up half hour ago. these are the nights we'll forget forever.

all in the timing

comfort food at 3am. i say bless you to the girl eating alone in the next booth, and she accuses us of stalking her. what is this world? foot is more swollen. tried to dance w/ a cane the night before. i'm sitting and listening to johnny play a song called 'sexy pepsy.' have to go hang out with the ninos in a couple of hours. try to get a power nap in. i feel old. i want to dance with somebody. is garcia still on my couch. he says to me in CVS the night before. What happened to you? (refering to my foot) i fought a bear. i say. the register line is watching both of us and wondering if we know each other, and waiting to buy their toothbrushes and contac solution. 'what happened to you?' i ask him. he smiles and says... 'i work here' well done garcia, i give you credit. cause that, after all, i what you are searching for.

the grand hustle

just got a new job. i hope. at an elementary school. as an assistant to Ms. Alvarez. i have to talk to parents in spanish, and discipline tiny spanish speaking children. it's only half days. i'll still be working in the furniture racket in the mornings. i'm really excited. i need to brush up on my past tense verb conjugations. plus, i've got money coming in (really nicely, in fact) from the SVT tour. and sporadic dj gigs here and there. can i throw a party at your house? (super cheap) (you'll dance all night) (so will yr friends) (and their friends) planning to move to New York, so i've got to start hustling. trying to figure out what drug i should start pushing.

mayan versions of yourself

my boss told me this incredible tale of a cocaine induced 5 day binge. ends with bizarre hallucinations. he sits up in bed. sweat pouring off his face. he notices these feathers moving. beautiful and brilliant. just in the corner of the room. he looks closer. what the hell is that. a thick plumage of red and green and purple feathers shaking slowly in the corner of the room. what the hell is that. it's moving slowly almost as if it is breathing. he looks closer. he makes out a figure. makes out some skin. makes out a neck turning slowly towards him. and then he sees it. his own devilish mug smiling back at him. a redder mayan version of himself with war paint below the eyes. it looks at him and then grins the evil grin. he said he laid back down on the bed, (he didn't know if it was 5 minutes or 5 hours) but when he looked back again, from around the corner he say a revolver with cop cuff links attached to it. he yelled out. whoever you are. i'm alone. i've just been up for 5 days. everything is okay.

i think the Vic man really tapped into something here. not sure what it is. but i do wonder what i would say to the mayan version of myself

altered states

i think my brain waves are changing. my wisdom teeth operation led to a healthy prescription of hydrocodone. now that this buick has run over my foot, i'm back on the train. i feel like a zombie. kind of half awake. people talk to me and i find myself examining their faces. like pigsaw puzzles. i have no idea what they spoke to me. but i smile, and to them i seem this the most earnest listener friend. but i'd rather be feverishly categorizing my records. i should be memorizing lines right now for rehearsal manana, but i'm here concentrating on this. i can only concentrate on one thing at a time. ONE THING AT A TIME. but, on painkillers my attention span, while extremely concentrated, can be cut short by the A/C turning on, or the dog barking. If i am still on these things in two weeks, just put a bullet in me.

cars are heavy

a car ran over my foot. the doctor was extremely confused. he slumped himself in the wheelchair and pondered for minutes. i didn't want to break his concentration. i will schedule an MRI appt. tommorow. these past few weeks have been filled with bad omens. and just general shit going down incorrectly. i guess it could be worse, it could have been my head underneath the wheel. a wizard would have never let this happen. what an evening. the dance party stops before midnight. foot totally jacked. don't get paid. tour coming up. birds show up, nothing doing. no rent (still). work??? i think i'm gonna join the circus. i'll be mr. pitiful. thank you otis.

the 1st blog

Someone had a theory that most people only actually work 3 hours out of their 8 hour workday. It works for me. When I slung plates I worked all 8 hours. But now I blog, and play ping pong, hide, take naps, talk to Mr. Reed. the furniture business is a hell of a racket. Once you get lost in it theres no going back. Is this where an artist ends up? In a warehouse with no a/c. Shooting the shit on the dock.

I don't think I went to college for this. I should go back and talk to my advisor and see if this was in my degree plan. (I knew I should have gone to those arts job seminars.)

The day's almost done. I haven't been fired yet. everything normal.