Not now, blog. I have a headache.

I often say that I am all over the Internet like a bad rash. This is because I am kind of s’nasty. I like to write though, and get up to No Good.

Ironically, I am tired of blogging, social media, the Internet, controversy, Uniqueness, Modernity, Retrophilia, and … just EVERYTHINGAAaaaaaaAAAAAGHGHGH!!!

I have created, to put it mildly, a SILLY amount of content in the past couple of years. I’m not talking about Official Content of a Professional Capacity. No, I’ve mostly just been working my ass off for myself and You – here to amuse and delight. Up until Radicchio in the morning trying to survive on this Amusing little bit of fun y’all call a planet.

To think of organizing this content is dizzying. To think of subjecting you folks to lists of what I’m going to do about it is nauseating. To analyze the sunniness of my tone as I ponder the NON-effectiveness of whining about my goals AGAIN makes my brain feel like butt candy. I don’t know what butt candy is, but it doesn’t sound very nice. Already, this blog is so terribly FLARG. But I have established a bit of Flow here in the form of a couple paragraphs…And it’s not in a list. So Splickets to you!

Anyway, all I know is that there is a lot in my head, and that’s the way the cookie gathers moss, my goblin friends. I know that I need quiet, and that it’s time to cut the distractions. I know that you have never heard this newsflasky, dizzying information from me before; that I know YOU know that I know that it’s time to start saying no. no, no no; no no no. (I said a)No, no, no no. no; no- na-no. (like in a successful commercial). None of this has anything to do with the price of bronzed monkey poo (#relevance!) at a bustling border town; but this is how Great Novels are Written.

So, what do you do when your blog is just not that into your silly ass? What do you do when you don’t FEEL like it?

Before, I have always done stuff like publish photos of my feet and Unidentified Flying Ceiling Fans. Then amidst these cunning distractions, I will place my Deep and Personal thoughts – hoping they go both expressed and unnoticed. Hoping I can be both validated and largely ignored. Really crossing my fingers that somehow I shall increase in social popularity without the need to reveal a shred of personal or actual information about myself. I think I’m living in a dream and I know I don’t want to wake up.

I erase half the things I would say now, just because I fear they are constantly being observed. Either that, or I have a cerebral salt shaker filled with hearty disclaimers. mmmmmm, delicious.

Why am I feeling so Mosquitolesquey? So acerbic and raw? It’s probably because I have been having the same identity crisis all over your nice upholstery for the past few years. I keep apologizing for this, but I don’t know why I am apologizing for weird and awkward behavior to The World At Large. How much am I really fouling up the room compared to the Elephant in it, making its messes?

There’s so much stuff I’ve learned! I’m dangerous now! We’re not meant to do this, not meant to do that. Spelling, grammar, metaphors, length, color, line, definition. Think first. No, get out there and make content. I’m real confused.

I have lived in my head all my life. I have kept myself free from a lot of cultural influence. A lot of the things that fly out of my mouth came from my actual brain. I am far, far from encyclopedic. This is because when I was meant to be paying attention to the work of other people, I was narcissistically making my own.

I like myself better. I trust myself more. I can rely upon myself to be interested in Me. I know that when I am dead, I will not care who my audience is. Someone else will have to manage those things. I am my audience now, and I have to live with what I make. If I do not thrill and amuse myself, I have to look inside my own brain when I fall asleep at night. It is I who have to interact with the characters and people that populate my world. And only I will remember who and what I want (most likely). And if I don’t get what I want in my real life, I can when I am writing, or sleeping, or refusing to pay attention to what IS so much that I make what CAN BE.

Perhaps, art is a delusion. A happy delusion. My sweet escape.

It is folly, probably, to distance myself from my audience in this way. I have been doing this with my music. I know I do it. This is why I have my side projects where I try more to do what I’m told. Because with my own music I’m throwing myself at my tools and I might make choices for my own reasons and I am thinking about the character and the story and what I wanted to say. I’m trying to make a Thing live. I’m not in a state of mind where I care about You-the-Consumer. You’ve got a world full of ready-made stuff to look at. I’m probably not going to interest you.

This is going to get me about 8 fans. This is going to make me zilch money. I am lucky I am getting better at cleaning the house (this is a lie. I am horrible at this but my baking improves!). I need to rethink the whole “no ads” thing. I don’t know. I don’t want to pour a nice refreshing Pepsi on my soul either…..

I have a lot to think about. Sifting through my brain is going to be like an octopus trying to put on socks, I imagine. I have a lot of personal decisions to make…

But I’m getting there. Messily, scandalously, perhaps even… but gettin’ there nonetheless …

I really am not trying to grow up to be a curmudgeon…

Two for the price of One Plus a Dollar…

These are the kitties of Randall, “Couch Kitty” and “Window Kitty” .. also known as Alex and Max.
These are the photos we took before they left. It’s been weird. I didn’t want to blog about them, because I don’t know how they are – but I haven’t been blogging a lot and yesterday I went out and read some of my writing to some people and there was mirth and fun and enjoyment and I realize how much I edit and hold back and am careful and it does me no good because bad things continue to happen anyway regardless of what I do. So I may as well just continue on as I am, writing as I like and trying my hardest to be the best that I can be. What can one do about such things? We are moving, and it’s a billiondy million degrees, and and I have been a worrier of Epic Porpoises since I was a podling. Everything will work out fine. I continue to stare suspiciously at the piano and wish things would pack up themselves and magically sort-out-in-all-easy-ways.
1. Pianoteq problem again while trying to save some old data. Well, my pianos have been saved. This is very important because they are like my babies and represent times and places in my development and they remind me of people and places and conversations and stuff I was going through. Sometimes I would just make a piano to FEEL better.

2. I am going to have a graham crackers shaped like tiny rabbits. Because I can.
3. I’m out at my Tuesday night writers group again. I’m proud of this, because this is something that I I’ve been doing that is consistent and that is special and tasty. I don’t know if “tasty” applies here; but we’re going to go with it.
4. Have you ever reached an impasse with a friend? Well, I have reached an impasse with this particular friend so many times that the restaurant that we used to meet at when we were younger with firmer complexions has turned into a hipster space station and moved down the road. I’d go in there, but I am afraid that the smell of TIGI and pretention would choke every shred of energy I have regained from me. Yes, every precious SHRED of energy that I have refound and will clutch to my bosom before my doctor has figured out that I have ripped myself off cholesterol medicine and thrust its evil presence from my wrecked body.
5. I’m a tad drama today. Expect more typing.
6. I think I’m slowly finding my fan base. I’ve been hunting them down. I have, of course, been saying this for years of beers, and the 6-8 people who have OPT-ed-ed-IN are tired of my megalomaniacal claims I am sure. They are people like me. But the regular channels of the Getting of the Attention … it doesn’t WORK that way. I can’t be all MERCHY with these people. I can’t jump up and down with pom-poms and clever hooks and drag them out to gigs and send them to my bandcamp.
7. My husband, who apparently although he has a job cannot be bothered to actually code or anything (#pokeymirthlystuff) has figured out that Vinny the Geriatric Kitteh is between 84 and 90ish years of age in human years. Before we dragged him back inside, he was having a vigorous, non-consensual “dating” life with Domina – who I am assuming is between 50 and 60. I am thinking that perhaps a crotchety (yes, I am aware that I have enjoyed typing that word before) .. old man cat could have been rather useful last night as Get-the-Hell-Off-My-Porching those Raccoons last night. More likely he would have just sat there allowing the powers that flea to take his love and take his land. Animals are jerks.
8. Anyway, about my fanz-with-a-Lolcat-inspired-”z” … they are people of the night. Unless they aren’t; and they feel more jaunty during the afternoon or for breakfast or elevenzees. Sometimes they are practical people who like to make crafty items with funny ears. Sometimes they aren’t weird for the sake of being weird. Actually, they never are. They’re just themselves. They just move around, heads cocked to the sides- funny half smiles at the ready. They don’t have the squinky look on their face that I imagine the majority of people make when they are reading my blog. Or perhaps I am giving myself too much credit and I think it is terribly Roman Tick to imagine myself velvet caped in my dungeon of delights playing my creepy basement organ.
9. that is not what she said.
10. I’ve missed blogging. I promise I will not get all creepy.
11. We are inDEED moving to a new location and it does not have a creepy basement for a creepy organ. There are probably about 3-4 basements in the whole city of Austin because of all the limestone. It’s really too bad because I bet it would be nice and cool and cavey down there.
12. OOOOO! I forgot all about CAVES!
12.5 -> I haven’t been myself lately. I’ve lacked confidence. I’ve need LOTS of reassurance. I USED to be like that, but I trained out of it. I think that this is because I got sick, and being sick is scary and hurty and vulnerable.

Well, no more! When you realize that you are in the bottom of a dank, dank, stinky hole then you have to look up and see the gleaming taco stand at the top and crawl back out. I have stuff to do. I’m not even going to link it. I’m not even going to BLOG RESPONSIBLY. You’ll all just have to wait because

HERE IS A DEN LIST:
A. I have either TWO or THREE songs to write. I’m hedging about the third because I am not sure if it is needed, wanted, or necessary. It’s become almost a philisophical connundrum at this point.

B. I SHOULD start with the song that I know I have, but for some reason doing the most difficult thing is what I crave, because if I can do it; that means that I have my stuff under control
C. There is not any more. For that is all.

hay-hay.

ps. sorry for mistigacakes. We have to go someplace and I don’t have the time to spell-chalk this up properliciously.

everyone knew her as nancy …

I am up very late-early. I have a few short items of business before bed.
1. I have a LOT of tabs open. I have been a bizzy little blogging bee. We are getting all taggy with this blog. Rest assured, by the time BlogathonATX rolls around next month … I REALLY WILL be ready THIS time!!! This is unlike last time, when I was doing Nur Ein at the same time, so I was just pretend ready.
2. Raccoons may seriously suck it. They are not cute, and they are not charming. They are horrible, pesty creatures and they are giving Domina conniptions.
3. I’m serious! They make this high pitched creeping keening noise like they have come forth from some deep crevasse in the earth to portend someone’s death. We have GOT to get out of here …
4. Fortunately, we are moving in 2 days.
5. Check mate, Mr.Rocky McShiftyPants. Check Mate.

busybusywrongwrong

I need to be better. I’m not eating, and I’m not sleeping. I need to get ON-IT!.

Apparently, it’s really not very motivating to have your entire psyche filleted by a physic vampire – but there you go.

I’m being really extreme here. I’m totally fine.

I just can’t seem to get it together. Song Fu opens up this week again. ACK! My studio is a SHAMBLES. There’s stuff on Brigit’s Flame to do. I’m not going to even bother to make links. All this means that I pretty much just need to get all this stuff together. Like I say I’m going to do but never really quite manage to complete.

Oh well, at least I have written my complete bio.