8 is Enough

Nur Ein results are up. I lost. None of this – ‘there were five winners’ crap. There were four dudes who knew what they were doing and one clueless little thing who had a good guest round. People said I made rhythm mistakes in my work; and instead of defending my work I got all unsure, assumed I was wrong and didn’t even bother to check and think I might be right, or that I might have been going for a flavor of something. And if wrong, understandably so in the same sort of way others overshoot the mark in their ways when they apply an effect. Now there’s an odd taste in my mouth about the Trying of the New Thing.

By the time I thought to somewhat defend myself it was too late – ironically, I failed the tongue twister challenge. If 7 is a lucky number I deserved an 8. I’ll think too deeply on the math and raise you. Right on its side is the number of infinity.

Will I do Nur Ein next year? Probably. Will I win it? I think I’ve figured out I shall never win it! But I will continue to try.

This was not the Nur Ein of last year where I came out feeling awesome and like I’d nailed the dismounts but cracked my ankle a bit. This is one where I tried new interpretations of all my old tricks while everyone else strapped on cool-as-s4it electric guitars or iron-clad reputations and the panel looked into my messy dreamworld in disbelief and said “wtf is this craziness?!”

Xondor. Welcome to Xondor.

Someday I will write the stories and the characters and the planets and all the little silly things I have been writing about but really, honestly……..
…….my shit IS stories. It’s even been said.

“no one wants to read a novel.”

Not only did the losing thing happen, the whole Nur Ein itself was filled with uncomfortable underlying and embarrassing social challenges that made it difficult to do my work. Interpersonal problems. Weirdnesses. Connundrum. Crisis of conscious-type stuff. Pestilence. Deaths. Sick pets. Relationship problems. Family issues. Internet “stuff” that is upsetty (these things happen). Stuff you can’t complain about on the boards because it sounds like you’re making excuses for why your song blows.

I found the entire time I couldn’t communicate with people in the way I wanted. I couldn’t get my point across. I felt uncomfortable with the discussion in and around the conversation (what does that even mean??) It had that odd vibe around it that a kid has when the adults are arguing and it’s like “shhhhh…let the grown ups talk….” but you know something mean and shitty is going on. But all you can think to do is cry and say “but, but…this is DUMB! Why can’t everyone be nice?!” so you feel lame and keep quiet. And it’s good that you did. This is just how the adults talk to each other! You would have embarrassed yourself! (again). Things are all fine! (_yep)

Mostly all this is me hitting the apex of Things; the top of the pile Ive needed to scale in order to make hard decisions about how out-of-hand I let things get in both professional and personal life.

I’ll never be “ready” to “do it” if I’m not ready already.

That’s what my lucky numbers indicate. Signs point to now.

No, I’m not quitting. No, I’m not even quitting contests. I’m too old for musical methadone clinics. But I’m also too old to change, to force my fat butt into a rock and roll cheerleader uniform. And certainly too old to do such things on my own.

I am going to pause and give myself the silent moment of extreme credit for the massive amount of work and accomplishment I know I’ve done. I think I’ve stretched myself more in 2 years than is really believable. That doesn’t really get prized in any way. You prize your own self for that by getting up in the morning and not quitting a Thing.

And I think I’ve been a little bit brain-fuzzy in thinking. Yes I have thoughts for the new title. Amazing ones. But more importantly I’ve got some plans for some other stuff I’ve let go undone for way too long that I used to be up to all the time.

I never did talk about Blogathon, or do anything about it, did I?

{edit: I do have to say, and not just to be PC, if you go to hear this round…the songs are all excellent. I didn’t lose to anything mediocre.}

Big Top Me

I have been wasting time on social networks lately because my creativity has been getting lost in the couch cushions.

I will go ahead and be honest, and admit that it’s because there are a couple people and read-y things who/that have kind of knocked me off kilter lately and I have been less than confident. It’s been pretty specific and easy to do. I’m pretty easy to drive crazy. I’m a pathetically easy target with a high yield of ego-building attention.

I’ve pinpointed the problem. Apparently, it’s when I feel really well at ease in a relationship, artistically (or otherwise). I will hop to for pretty much anyone – often at the expense of people who are not demandy or pushy with me. Many of my relationships have suffered for this – artistically and personally. I have a husband in particular who doesn’t ask for much at all and so he kind of sits around whistling and staring into space sometimes. I’m starting to use him as an excuse more and more and it’s not really an excuse; I’ve found it’s really more of a need and it should have been a deep-seated need that I stuck to long ago. To be a wife and to have a bit of Private, Don’t-@#$(-with-this, family time. Other people are certainly not shy about closing the white-picket-curtain. Boundaries are clearly defined. Perhaps the Mike and I need to go back to Family School. I’m just so congenial I will bend over backwards out of my very own kitchen to make a stranger feel better. until my life falls apart. And that’s not sane. That’s what crazy people do.

So anyway. If you make me feel safe, I’ll let my guard down. Then if you knock me off my secure perch a little bit I will scramble and dance and do anything to get my happy equilibrium I had back. Much Attention will be paid and No Work will get done. Hell, I’ll get my whole circle involved in your cause. I’ll talk to Mike about where he thinks I might have gone wrong in the problems I’m having currently with “you” or “them” or “that-terrible-thing-*I*-did-wrong.” I think possibly the key here is that before I was thinking about myself and getting my work done; and that after being knocked senseless with something that makes no… sense … I’m thinking about how to FIX the situation. Calling in all my extra resources. Trying to build Rome in a torn up paper cup…

And it’s usually a situation that can’t be fixed. I try and try, and everything I try just gets casually knocked over with a feather. I set the house of cards back up on the table only for it to get blown over in front of my face! “Why did you DO that?!?” I rage, metaphorically! “It was the wind!” is my reply; with the added crazy making “What are you talking about? What does a house of cards have to do with ANYTHING we are even talking about right now …?” I hang my head, feeling guilty and burdensome for bringing my problematic paranoia to our fragile relationship. Gah! I mess up everything! This is why I can’t stay in jobs, relationships, bands (despite a 13year marriage many people admire and many people wanting to work with me even though I’m flaky as hell). This is why no one likes my work (despite an odd popularity happening with little pr and a non-existant core fanbase set-up. My 8-12 fans are really starting to buy into this…).

I’m just being real emo here about all this. It’s not really that bad. But rejection is killing me so I’m thinking in black-and-blue. #haha

Soon I am confused. I live my life increasingly on guard and I become paranoid and shaky, more and more. Creativity is squeezed and I become a useless, shivering thing. The back of my hand is glued to my forehead. I want to talk about it, but you are screening your networks and your emails and your phone calls and your texts and you have moved out of state and changed your name. Yesterday you were wondering why on earth you couldn’t get me to text you back. I’d coldly replied I had a life and said something Societally Shaming.

I can’t have this go on anymore. I’m glad I have the self-possession to know that I repeat patterns with each new person I let into my life; that I continue to attract the SAME sort of person, that I do have an artistic “type,” and that now that I have found hope I need to do whatever I can to stick to the healthy bits of all my healthy situations by taking good care of myself and saying “no thank you” to insanity when it rears its ugly head.

not go running toward it like a chicken with its head cut off.

So I slowly pull away from conflict and from things that make me look too insane. Realizing that that in and of itself is making me look a little bit insane but figuring that I will end up okay in the end. I know I have something important in my favor, which is that I am admitting that I am riddled with the crazy. This gives me an edge over people who slap the label on me and then deny the wacko in themselves. Only to be surprised and overcome by it later. While I zip by on my silly-tricycle…quite used to being heckled like the circus freak that I am.

Why is it so easy to infantilize women, but so hard to lay the blame at the feet of the Man-Boys it so often belongs to. I know I’m generalizing right now, trapped in my own experience. It’s my blog. Deal.

But why do I find it difficult to be a strong woman? And why do women go to war with one another? I have this conversation with my husband, who I don’t talk about a lot because thankfully he is a boring grown-up.

I think sometimes or perhaps on tricky days, “silly” girls are easily controlled and flummoxed. Regardless of age, position, status, or station.

And if you don’t believe me, later on this weekend I will post some of the scary stuff I’ve read, but haven’t had the brass Ovs to post. That will really fry your blood!

firm foundations

1. I haven’t been sleeping real well. I haven’t been feeling super great about myself.
2. I’m not taking the best care of myself. I will try to improve this tomorrow.
3. I haven’t been as communicative lately because I feel stupid. I feel stupid because, without getting into it, I allowed myself to get psyched out by a person who doesn’t really like me.
4. I don’t feel like my domains are mine. I don’t own my space. I feel betrayed and attacked. I feel poked and picked on. Worst, I feel like what I do isn’t worthwhile and that I’m a dilettante who isn’t enriching myself with real practice working toward professional goals in a logical setting -based on years in …. a professional setting knowing I needed to slow down and hone some skills if I was going to change direction.
5. This is disastrous during a time like Nur Ein – which is like a pilgrimage for me and like songwriting boot camp. Rather than honing skills I’ve elected to pile issues on my personal life; and this is unprofessional and dilettante-y in the extreme.
6. This can be salvaged because if I step outside myself it is easy to see and hear the ridiculousness of my situation. But my very ears get warped when I am sucked into silly minutiae and start actually believing I’m not as good as I know I am. Because when I second guess myself – it wastes time and I make mediocre work and of course it’s not going to stand out as some great thing.
But I mistake insults sometimes for critique. They arent the same thing – and are not motivated by the same place in the heart.
And learning to recognize mean people from afar is probably the next skill to practice.

How to Cope with Being Accosted By Extroverts

1. Back away slowly. These are paradoxically both the oddest and most common of earthlings. They may flutter their Pom Poms in your face and begin chanting arbitrarily.
2. Allow them to explain the presence of “toros in the atmosphere.” Remember. A willing suspension of disbelief is key.
3. In more intimate settings, allow them to dominate the conversation.
4. Do NOT make them read beyond a third grade level.
5. DO try to check your ire, and perhaps learn what you can from their strange social practices. [NOTE: Apparently, one must engage in discourse with other humans in order to run the planet.]
6. Easily overpower them with memes and well placed social norms.
7. Set up conventions based around mutually shared areas of interest but hold secret meetings in closed session with discussion of how to take the planet’s power from the Loud and Ignorant.
8. Begin smear campaign based largely in well placed internet promotionals and other materials celebrating the casual quiet superiority of the Introvert; and decrying the drooling common idiocy of all who needily derive power from others to engage pathetically on a social level.
9. Watch society crumble.
10. Drink Jolt cola. Revel in success. Set up detention camps with mandatory times of “Quiet Reflection” and “Thoughtfulness Indoctrination.” Forbid any comparison to Godwin’s Law.
11. Celebrate new found power of introversion and your new dizzying popularity and the Era of the Subjugation of the Extrovert.
12. Organize a series of gladiatorial games to rid the earth of these aberrations once and for all!
13. Purchase Pom Poms.
14. Like … OMG! April Fools! I *totally* tested introvert on my TestyMcThing! Its @suspiciousden’s birthday, crazy-s!!! Get over yourselves!!!

I’m just trying to hang on till International Absentminded Sexy Professor in Latex Day, y’all. Shaaa…

useful words I made for a slow day

1. fl’anger: little tiny flurffs of passive aggressive steam let off online; to take the pressure off (not to be confused with a FLANG{ER}, which I think is a sound effect used by the combination of infinitesimal delay and chorus-type things to vary the tops and bottoms of your envelope, I think… it can go WHRONNNNG if you like.)
2. flurff: a unit of emotion
3. sklorg: the sense of nauseating unfairness that crushes your soul when someone has metaphorically eaten your adorable chocolate bunny; and the entire World is cheering them on Whilst it is being Done to you.
4. zwip: a philosophy of happy calm realism that allows one to roll with all Punches.
(husband wants to know if there shall be a book called ‘Zwip and the Art of Motorcycle Repair’)
5. shoggs: shoes that have suffered a Dastardly Puddle Invasion
6. blurgged: you sat in a puddle. In jeans. So this describes you now.
(I didn’t though. I just thought I’d clarify! Nor did I step in a puddle)
5. stoozered: “Jay said ‘Den go to bed’ and she was right ‘cuz I’m *stoozered*…but I finished my work anyway…” (jay did not say that in this Particular Instance but would have had she thought to Do So)
this means too tired to work but Pressing on to the Finish.

those are some words. there will be more later. I am sleepy now.
Here is a medium -sized photo of a little Lego farmer being abducted by aliens for your Viewing Pleasure…

HAPPY V-DAY: Confessions -a list

1. It’s Valentines Day. It’s tempting to be angry.
2. I am married to a wonderful man and he makes me very happy and very disgusted and very angry and we have been together for over 13 years. That’s a long time.

3. Thirteen is a really unlucky number. This is what my songwriting partner of Billy and the Psychotics and I have agreed upon. We have not written a song in three rounds. This makes me (and I think him) really sort of blue – but we don’t have time for that: me because I’m behind on so much stuff including exciting things for other people. I don’t have any business mooning over music which has been making me happy and thrilling my soul because it’s easy to write and rocks in five minutes or less. We will be back to it when the list scrolls back to the top. At the end of this day and especially the end of this week things are going to get a lot easier for me.
4. All of my silliness this year has messed up my other music making because I have actually sat in front of other open projects and thought through the thousands of other upsetting things that could go wrong interpersonally JUST LIKE what has previously happened to me and so have shut down my software and lain down to do nothing or watch stupid YouTube videos of seventeen people playing one accordion or whatever. Because I am sure that disaster of epic proportion is lurking around every corner. You have to be a pretty big screw-up to flitz out of as many situations as I have. I’m having to add other limbs to count the mistakes that Have Been Made yeah, it increases my songwriting opps. So what?! Yes, I’ve written MANY tunes and made them into Cryptic Relationship Numbers too. Whatevermonkey……
5. Although 13 is an unlucky number, I know that Mike and I can make it through because we have done it before. That doesn’t mean that people who don’t and can’t aren’t as good as us or that if we don’t for some reason that we aren’t as good as them. I hope we will always be as close as we are now. Mike is the best man that I know, that’s for sure.
6. I cried a lot in the Spintunes listening party last night. I know other people understood the emotionality of some of that – and I appreciate that.
7. I’m especially glad for a couple of my friends right now and Am trying to pull myself out of this rut quickly so I can work.
8. Tonight we are having a very romantic dinner with my stepfather and my brother and sister in law and we are going to watch funny Internet videos and be glad to be in one another’s company and that we are happy and have a good family that survives and loves each other.

I should also call my father, simply because he is my dad; and it’s Valentine’s Day…

8. I’ve taken a lot of hits over the past year and yes, it’s true; almost died of a broken hearty-depression thing. I know that sounds really Lady-of-Cooking-Onions… But I DID lose over thirty pounds and languish in secret while having to pretend everything was Peachy-Keen-Jellybean and this suited the whole situation to a Capitol T, actually; allowing it to flourish and run amok. I still am a polite creature and wormholes will unravel if I get into things. Sometimes the best way to show love is to walk the earth appearing as though you are a silly, easy-to-Snow Ninny-of-a-Chit. It may kill to think of folks sauntering around laughing at your “ignorance” and fist bumping in the air at the nefarious things that can be accomplished behind a back as STUPID as yours (yours-being-mine); but you let it happen knowing the whole time who and what you’re dealing with … and you do this out of love. For if the deflation of a poofy ego is going to beef up my self worth for the space of an afternoon but not really do much good in the long run…who cares? What good is that? Doesn’t good prevail in the end anyway? Isn’t karma, queen … when you get down to tass bracks?

This is probably why I married who I did. Because Mike and I have been dealing with “who ME?!?!?!?!……..{cute simpering eyelash bat}” people for as long as we’ve known one another and can Spot the Fake from Lands Away.

So our stories ARE complicated but really they are about dying friendships and having to give up the luxury of our naïveté. It’s sad to be so wrong about myself and the effect I have on people and how my music in particular effects people and the Way Things Work. And I know Mike has felt this way about his own efforts with people before. It’s sad to want to give up. But both he and I are not give-up-py people.

I talked to Mike about this last night and I got a bit snuffaluffuguffy. I think I will always be sensitive and I will always be a dumb little Xondorian who is prone to getting her hair dyed pink and who finds out about reality at the last second. Far too late. WAY after everyone else does.

If this makes me stupid, so be it. I know that I still have a tendency to love and to care too much and to buy into things and to Over-Hope and that I’ll probably cry again. Lots. I’ll cry about this for a long time.

I over invest and I over share and I over hope. I’m not independent and I’m not all that strong and I need lots of help.

But I survive after being burned each and every time.

I INVENTED that $#%^

And really, I am a glass half exploded person. I have love, and I have support. People are catching on, and bothering, and getting it. I just don’t choose to see it because it is risky and I don’t want to lose it if I believe it. I think if I relax into genuine admiration and something that is nice that it will vanish! And then … hurt. I see a comparable career I like and I start to make strides toward it and I second guess every step I make in the right direction. There has to be some OTHER reason for the success. Because I’m damaged. It can’t just be because I’ve worked hard and am a professional. And I can’t live like this anymore. Too much drama….I’m getting too old for this fomtroolery……

Perhaps I shall travel again; and meet some of my new fans some day. Then after I have met these four to eight mysterious people, I shall go home and make mac-n-cheese. Haha. Just kidding, of course!

I am very grateful for them. I am thinking that in the next couple years that I WILL start playing again. It may be start-stop once again, like always. I may meet another person who overwhelms me and promises help and friendship and to take the burdens away only to become dependent upon them and only to have them leave me with pieces left undone and questions about what I do next left unanswered in my mind. But this happens to me and honestly it is part of my artistic process; I’ve come to understand. A cycle of need, cooperation, indulgence, over-involvement, light-betrayal, and then separation. And the I dramatize things (or am painted as doing such!) and go on alone.

Then, years later, when I am free, the past comes back to knock upon my door. And of course I don’t recognize it. I smell it and it’s been marked by its own oddness so I cannot let it in. That’s how things work. All I can do is try my best to be gracious because I truly do not understand how some people actually believe that time stops in rooms that are left in the past behind shut doors – as if animation suspends in a vintage past like an instagram photo…..

I am thankful for my husband, and not afraid or ashamed of the chances we have taken or the honesty we have experienced or the trust we’ve put in one another. It’s been rewarded. When most others have turned away, it’s been rewarded. And he tells me who knows? things could work out for me and we could still succeed despite our wildest expectations at all we want to do!!!

We are VERY lucky that we drink good coffee.

#damnthisblogisemo …..

no religion too

so…

I just made a “like” page on facebook for this blog, and I’m going to say “hey, come see this blog” sometimes when I make lists over there.

This happened because I decided that my way of seeing things and my opinion matters, and that it’s important that I be heard. We live in a world that is pretty vindictive and vengeful and cruel. If I don’t try to put my light in where I can, I’m going to feel fester-y and grow bitter and dark.

I am nervous, because part of me thinks “oh, this can’t possibly go well.” This is the part of me that has already grown bitter and dark and does not want to forgive. It is the part of me that has been living in secret and feels ashamed and lets myself be walked on; allowing little daily hypocricies to pile up around me until I want to scream. This is how people go crazy and this is how people become destructive of themselves and others. This is how people repeat patterns and why things go in cycles over and over. Because there really is nothing new under the sun. If a thing is happened once and is not learned from and Grown Up out of … assuredly, it will happen again. And again. And again.

I would like to avoid fates like these. I would like to be a positive influence where I can.

Sadly, I find myself here and now looking back at a couple of people and situations in my life thinking that I have NO influence and that I didn’t make any kind of dent. That I was not seen or heard. That nothing I brought to these relationships enriched or taught anything and that these people will go away from their time with me and continue to unleash their destructivity upon the unsuspecting populace in their continual patterned way. This makes me sad. I was no different than anyone else they encountered. I was no great guru. I brought no spiritual light into anyone’s life.

And this is my calling really, to bring spirituality into people’s lives. This is one of the reasons that I hate being and getting sick. I hate that it makes me lose time and productivity and communication skills … and I hate that it gives people an excuse not to live up to their end of their part of the relationship that they had with me. And that after things fall apart I see the relationships they go on to have experiencing troubles that maybe would have been lessened if a lesson could have been learned, karmically with me.

Perhaps I am giving myself too much credit. But if I do not earn any respect as a person and I am seen as a pain in the ass and a petulant child then what is to be done really?

I guess I perhaps am being both aggrandizing and too hard on myself. I think perhaps I am giving myself too much credit. In some of these cases, I can’t get past the mere fact that I am a woman – there is no way I can get respect of character because in order to be taken seriously I would have to be a man (THAT is a long story I have told little bits of in blog form).

We are not going to talk about religion today … or that Man / Woman thing. Perhaps later. That is a long conversation and I’ve had to sit for years with things just to be able to think of things so that someday I could write about it accurately and with … balance. Because I want to do it right, and not run amok with it. That is not how I do things. I have always been taught to hold my peace and bide my time, which is why I have always found it curious that I have a reputation for flying off the handle and being so emotional. I am effusive, yes…

But I do restrain, and quite a bit. If I share my thoughts with you, I care very deeply. And if I feel threatened, of course, as anyone does when they get threatened – I withdraw. Don’t we all?

The fact that I mentioned that I went to church on Facebook, and that I called it “church” is kind of a big deal. I may have offended several groups of people just mentioning religion, mentioning it in a mainstream way, and placing myself in involvement with it in a vague and non-time-specific fashion; giving no honor or commitment to it either way. I only gave it mention, and thusly answer no questions and confirm nothing to anyone unless they know something of me. It’s one of those things that… well … you’d have to speak directly to me, probably in person, with a frank conversation to get a handle on my thought process. That type of talking… well … some of which I’m willing to do. And some of which, I’m not. Some of which would take a while. It’s hard to sort through this in my head. I’ve edited this entry a lot already.

I should have written a list… *sigh*

Few people can or would make a Long-Talky-Time kind of investment in another human being for a Just For Talking’s Sake. Trust me. It’s true. Usually there is More To It#ahem …

There’s not a god, godess, or disciple in the world that has that kind of time for my kind of BS. And that has been tested and proved in committee, unfortunately.

night, folks. for now.

swim

maybe it’s time to rise
time to open eyes
time to unshutter windows
a time for seconds, thirds, and infinitely more’th-tries.

i am suspicious of recurrences
of suddenness
(of absences)
of just enoughs
surrounded by too muchness-es
(and dour, coldemptypromises)
so when the tide is finally drenched with smiles
i think perhaps my scars will heal
(heart, hips, hands, fingers, thighs…)
i wish to ride my fear into my sea
and yes, my friend
i’d say this salty honest-ness;
this tricky-fun wordspun homecoming mist
is a happy new taste for me.

wuss threshold

1. I practiced a lot today.
2. I’m going to eat tacos.
3. I still have not finished my work, to everlasting chagrin.
4. This shall prolly be another fake list which starts off under list pretense and ends on long number…
:5!. I’m developing a small case of Freakiness. I’m erasing blogs again. I’m pretty sure this is because things suck. That’s the only way I know how to say it. This is the part where I get to smoke a cigarette and drink coffee from my smurf mug and not talk about it. I always feel guilty typing that, but when you are squishy under your microscope slide, obscuring it with a little bit of “FWOOSH” seems reasonable when you’ve proven you can go either way. And I have. Gone that way. It is my destiny #capeovereyes #bwahahahaha

6. HAH!!! You just think I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOO predictable don’t you?!?!?!

YOU DON’T KNOW ME!!!!!

#defiance #buffalostance

7. I keep missing a golden window of oppurtunity to get my gift of music done but I am just so in need of practice time and thinking and processing. I have had overload. I am in one of those times in life where…… hmmm. Do I have a dramatic metaphor for this???

it’s like having a medical procedure. Or going to a high school dance after a breakup. Or not being prepared for a math test. Or being in a fight.
You are scared, and it’s low grade at first. Not terror, because I’ve never feared for life for a mounting period of time so I don’t know. Like I haven’t been in a war, or anything. But this is a stomach feeling. You’re alive and you are afraid of what is going to happen next because it is going to SUCK and you are going to hurt like hell. These are the times when people wish they were dead because everyone has a wuss threshhold.

I’ve almost died before, or thought it was the case and feared my death. That actually upps your wuss threshold. But mine is not high enough for the dread not to get tripped when I KNOW that serious physical or emotional pain is coming my way. I hate to throw up, and I hate to cry and I hate to hurt. So I make myself forget things so that I can get through and pretend stuff’s not happening to me. I imagine a worst case scenario. Invariably I am usually presented with something I didn’t plan for. It’s the one part of the Algebra chapter I forgot to read, it’s the kick to my weak side. My exboyfriend walks into the dance and the girl looks like a teacup piglet or a ribboned box of chocolate chip cookies make by a squad of adorable upper woodwind players in happy-face aprons singing Sweet Christmas carols. And they are singing to orphansMy orphans….with ACCENTS !!!!!! My red stilettos are not in fashion and everyone is in sundresses and precious espadrilles. My hair is neon.

31 Flavors of T A C K Y !!!!!

…huh?

Oh! Yeah! I’m awake!!! Totally! Yeah! I’m SO awake!

Dude! I fell asleep in my own blog over thinking it. This is why I’m not getting things done. I feel kind of sick all the time and I don’t have leftover energy because I’m using the last tiny bits to erase blindingly unkind assaults to my identity that of course actually never happened because of course nobody would ever do that !!!!! ack.

By the way, make a note. For later. This is how it looks when you shoot estrogen into it.

Ten years ago I said I would have a shining moment with someone who made me sit in the shower shaking and crying with the Shakira Mascara of Alanis Level Sorrow because I poured my whole career into him and earlier had had given him a non refundable scented sachet of permanent residual love to keep even if something went horribly wrong because THAT, my froglings, is Desssssssstiny…..
…and this was the last ditch effort.
Last week, my moment came where it flipped around and it all returned to me. I thought I would blog the hell out of that moment.

Someone at the time told me if I was really over the moment I wouldn’t care – I’d be obsessed with something else.

Correcto.

I don’t have time for back story. I am Having a Crisis, y’all.
I would almost prefer you NOT read my blogs of years past though. Because in them you will see how little I have changed in some ways. There is, indeed, nothing new u der the sun, and we are doomed to repeat the same patterns over and over again. Every day of our lives. So the best I can do is to slow down and just quit REACTING. because that’s what keeps fueling the sugarRushy behavior.

And I know how these things flow. It’s called karma. And she does come around to the Keepers of it. In Eerie, Messy fashion.

And she is, indeed, a bitch. But not to worry, So are Clotho, Atropos, and Lachesis. It’s not really nice to call women that, I hear. But I don’t really react to that either, sadly. Because sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly, sadly…I’ve heard worse.

8. To wrap, I’ve been trying to get a things a little more under control. I’ve got lots of tagging to do. When I realized this blog had a MUCH smaller audience than I thought and that my stats were karked I worked really hard to start making things better because only you can make things change and whining doesnt help a situation or inspire anybody to respect you or your work.

I’ve been working hard musically too. I think I’ve come a really long way. My band Billy and the Psychotics has won two Song Fights now and I don’t talk about it much because things are going really nicely and its when I DONT hem and haw about something that… well… Honestly …

No. I don’t wanna jinx it. Not this time
Some of Billy and the Psychotics at the Song Fight! Jukebox (with other Psychotic locations)
Here are the fights we won…
1. In Time of Crisis
{note: this is a little racy!!}
(I wanted to put the cool songfight player in here, but wordpress is being deflicted!!!)
2. A Conversation
(Song Fight!)

In closing, I’ve been listening to the Dixie Chicks again. And I kinda like it.

a day of Friendly reminders

1. NOTE TO SELF: you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I don’t know who the dog is in this scenario, but looking back I’m remembering I’ve been called bitch, and stupid, and worse
2. NOTE TO SELF: always remember that you are Unique. Just like everybody else.
3. It’s going to take something a LOT more

EPIC

to convince me to even respond to the existence of a person who regularly makes me feel like a bloodspot on a dirty road.
4. I am furious
5. I’m so furious right now I’m blogging about it. I’m months of pent of rage furious added to years of pent up rage furious.

I don’t want to go into it…

6. I’m so sad. I can’t even process it.
7. I’ll be around for things I need to be around for, but I have obviously not been doing well and it’s time for me to sort through some stuff before I end up someplace crazy.

Now it’s affecting my work.