Tuesday, July 23
My life is an endless succession of drugs, alcohol, and Mr. Show.
Tuesday, July 23, 2002 |   link | 6 comments

Friday, July 12
So. F'in. Tired. Last night we went to see the Poster Children, Imperial Teen, and the Breeders with Conan and Lisa. Missed the first ten minutes of the Poster Kids' set, which sucked, becuase they were really on their game last night. They were playing about 10x faster than usual, trying to cram as many songs as they could into the measly 22 minutes they were given as the opening act, and tight as a drum. I love watching the P-Kids play. Rose bounces around the stage like an awkward punk-rock ballerina. She's beautiful and dorky and human. They're also some of the nicest people in rock-n-roll. P-Kids are eternally screwed, though. They have the worst luck in show business. Sez Conan: "It's like they ran over a gypsy or something." How else to explain the fact that they aren't megasuperstars yet after 10 years of hard hard work, and even some minor hits and breakthroughs?

Sorry, Imperial Teen, I skipped your set, because my stomach was holding other parts of my body hostage and threatening to digest them if I didn't eat something. The Fillmore has great food. Crab quesadillas. Really wishing I had some right now. Mmm. Crab. Huh? What? Oh. Back to the entry. I could sorta hear IT from the dining area, and they sounded just about exactly like they did the last time I saw them, so I don't think I missed anything.

Breeders took the stage, and they played stuff. They played stuff from Pod and they played stuff from Last Splash and from Title TK and from the Amps record, and they played the Buffy theme, and it was all good, but I really had to sit, because I'm old and tired.

We got home pretty late, and I got to bed later, and I have this job where I actually have to be up early, and it sucks. So, I'm tired. In case you couldn't tell by this utterly brain-dead posting.
Friday, July 12, 2002 |   link | 6 comments

Wednesday, July 10
Shittiest. Day. Ever. OK, not ever, but shittiest one in a very long time.

The highlight of my day: A Typical Berkeley Street hippie stopped me for a cigarette. It seemed to me like the guy she was with wanted one too, but he said "Nope. I just wanted to tell you that you're very pretty. I think you're very very pretty. And that's all I wanted to say."

Now, that is classy. No "Hey baby!". No "Why don't you come home with a REAL man?". No lip licking or pelvic thrusts or random ass-grabbing, and he was so sweet and guileless about it, that if he'd been less dirty, I might have leaned over and given him a little kiss.
Wednesday, July 10, 2002 |   link | 3 comments

Tuesday, July 9
Just when you think that perhaps your life isn't REALLY some kind of cosmic test, that maybe all the shit you've been going through ISN'T some kind of cruel joke perpetrated by Karma, along comes an ex-boyfriend to set you straight. Caleb sort of disappeared a few years back, and I had a few people ask me where the hell he was, but I honestly didn't know. Yesterday, he suddenly appeared as quickly as he had vanished, and we talked for a bit. He only brought it up once, but the undercurrent to our entire conversation was that I had caused him a lot of pain. And that just kind of floored me. I mean, well, duh, I broke up with him very suddenly, of course that's got to hurt. But I'm so used to being on the other side of the coin. So used to being the one who is just totally banged up and floored by relationships, so used to having everything I am all tied up in one neat knot: "I'm so in love with you, and you don't even care."

He says our breakup was "guileless and awkward" on both our parts, but I tried to make it a clean cut. I severed all contact with him, for the most part. For me, it was over. There was no discussing it. That was the way it was. There was nothing that was going to change my mind, so there was no sense in listening to any pleas or entreaties that he might have. I tried to make it clear that the end was the end. I had hoped that severing contact would make him hate me enough to get over me. Sometimes a little hate is what it takes. I really stand by this decision and I still think it was the right thing to do. Because nobody has ever given me the courtesy of a clean break. Nobody has ever made it clear to me when it's over. I'm the kind of girl people break up with because they're falling in love with her. What kind of stupid cowardly bullshit is that?

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could be together today? On Valentine's Day?"
"No, you fucking asshole. We broke up two months ago, remember? Your decision. Stick with it."
"But I thought you loved me."
"Not enough to be strung along like this after you dumped my ass."

And it's so hard to be that voice of reason when you're hurting and all you really want to do is go along with it. Yes, it would be nice to be with you today. It would be nice to hold you and touch you and look into your eyes again. All those things would be very nice, but I can't say so, because then you have power over me. You have the power to hurt me again, only if I let you. I guess it would be different if someone came to me and said "Look, I made a mistake, let's talk." But it's never that. It's always "Ooh, it sure would be nice to be with you, because you're so awesome. But I don't want that." Talk about conflicting signals and mixed messages. Better to make a clean cut. Better to suffer all the hurt at once, instead of prolonging the agony by stringing me along and making me think you actually care. I might hate you for a while, but I always come back around in the end. There's not a single one of my exes I don't think fondly of, I can't hold grudges against people I've loved.

Boy, this turned into a longer rant then I had intended. I'll shut my mouth now before it writes a check my ass can't cash.
Tuesday, July 09, 2002 |   link | 5 comments

Monday, July 1
Straw poll!

What do you think this song is about?

Leave your answer in comments, I'm too lazy to set up a real poll, yo.
Monday, July 01, 2002 |   link | 6 comments