Monday, June 25, 2007
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Commercial
This is a commercial for the Nike Free shoes. I just got my first pair, Michelle bought them for me for fifty dollars at a small outlet store in Easthampton, MA. They are fucking great! In fact I think they are the BEST. Because of my foot problem, I am VERY picky about the comfort of shoes. Ironically, I work for a knockoff shoe company that makes the cheapest, heaviest, ugliest shoes out there. Admittedly the knockoffs have two good qualities - one, the plastic will last forever and two, you could use one of these shoes to kill somebody, like a brick. I basically only wear New Balance and Nike Airs at this point. I just bought the NB 990s in black. Michelle thinks they're ugly but I have liked them for a long time. We have somewhat different taste in sneakers, although there are many we both like or dislike. These Nike Frees - I cannot emphasize it thoroughly enough, I really can't, how superior they are to every shoe I've ever worn. They are even more comfortable than the Nike Air boots that I stomped around in all winter. Most shoes stop being comfortable to me after a few weeks, or months at most. I have high hopes for the Frees, but I'm going to buy more just in case. I love them. I am in love. I just walked to the post office and bank and then back to work and the whole time I was walking evenly on both sides!!! I could not feel the bump! My hip was not stabbing me! I could feel both sides of my ass jiggling equally, rather than the left side jiggle and the right side being held stiffly. My back even feels better already. When I got home last night I wore the shoes in the house for a long time, aaaah to be pain free. Imagine the feeling when your menstrual cramps finally subside, that is how I feel right now. Anyways, here's some sprint pics that have nothing to do with this. I just haven't posted Sprint pics in awhile. Mishy, you make me like charity.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Witchly!
Witchly liked me. She nibbled on my glasses, earrings, and necklace. Did you know parrots can fall in love with people? They are very jealous once they choose you.Wednesday, June 13, 2007
The piggy
Last night I dreamed there was a mama pig-cat and two baby piggy-kitties. One of the babies was a runt and one was healthy. I picked up the runt and held it to it's mother's mouth so she could nurse it or feed it. But she crunched him! My hand was in her mouth too with the piggy-kitty's head! I heard him squeeling and crying and the mama was eating him and killing him. I stuffed him in harder then, hoping his death would be faster and less painful. Very sad dream.
The apartment situation is settled for now. After going back and forth several times, my current roommate (Tam) has decided to stay. This is a great relief since I have less time than usual this month to interview prospective roommates. Having my home life unsettled is very difficult for me and gives me very loose and frequent bowel movements. Since hearing that she will stay, my stomach has settled significantly and the fatigue I feel no longer has that sickening edge. I am tired because I had a show last night at Otto’s Shrunken Head. I feel that my performance was detached, boring, uninspired or inspiring, and during it I felt sorry for the audience (my friends) and for myself and for Michelle and really this all proceeded from a feeling of nervousness and depression that had persecuted me all day combined with the extremely intimate setup and atmosphere of the room. I thought the management was going to be upset that we brought under ten people, and I felt better once a few more people showed up. But I did my part as usual I brought the most people! I couldn’t believe this girl showed up who came to see my apartment last week and expressed (what I thought was superficial) interest. She is from Korea and her English is very soft and sometimes difficult to understand. She used the drink ticket I gave her and left after two songs though. Certainly, quality is more important than quantity, and in some ways I would be happy to just perform for our girlfriends. Michelle’s opinion and experience matters the most to me. Unfortunately, she was suffering throughout the evening with severe menstrual cramps. I also think I am starting to pms since yesterday I felt more unstable than usual. Here is an excerpt from my real diary:
“I feel Tam is trying to take advantage of me now and putting me in a stressful position. I wish I could just live with Mishy – why am I so afraid, why did it upset me? I hate myself!! I hate the apartment and I hate everything! I need Michelle badly right now, but I’m always going to need her, it’s one fucking thing after the next – And I have a show tonight. I’m not excited about it. I hate everything. Feel upset! Nothing is settled … nothing is.”
Mishy said the show was objectively decent, including my performance, and she said that the volume of Mark’s guitar is annoying. Everyone says that. But you cannot reason with him! He pretends he doesn’t understand, blatantly lies about being unable to turn down for this or that reason, becomes emotionally volatile, or changes the subject… I mean, even when we are all three saying that it’s too loud in practice, he will not turn down. If anything, he turns me up. For one thing, he’s probably a little deaf by now. And the other thing is that it’s his band and that’s how he likes it. It’s his band because he puts the most energy into it, and the most money and time. On the other hand, he should get a fucking clue because nobody wants to hear it like that. Everyone complains behind his back. What can I do??? In some ways I am used to it. But Michelle’s comment last night made me feel I have to do something about it. I told him on Monday I’m not the fucking Orphan Annie and I’m not going belt every song. Every song is not a screamer. He’s playing melody lines in my range at a volume I can’t compete with. If there is a give and take, I can alternate with his lines, but if they are constant, like our new jam, I’m fucked and it’s depressing to try to compete with him. Apparently he was annoyed the other night when someone yelled out “the singer is the best” and took it as if I was the best “in the band.” That’s so stupid, there is no comparison among people playing different instruments versus singing. He should have just taken it as a good sign, and as a sign to turn down instead of drowning everyone else out for once. Anyways, I guess the management was not mad at us for not packing the house on a Tuesday night, but was happy with us because the booker came to me and expressed a very positive reaction to the music and said he would like us to come back soon and on the regular possibly. It was a Goth / death rock / furry cuffs and spiky bracelets party. We don’t look like we fit in that scene, but our music is somewhat “grim,” as Michelle’s mother said.
The final thing I have to say is, I’m looking forward to watching the Sopranos tonight. I am on episode four of season one, ha. I’m way behind. It’s funny how people can discover things that are good or great at different moments in time. Last night this drunk and annoyingly friendly guy named Otto was upset that I never heard of the band Television. As some people get older, they expect younger people to know everything they know, but the younger people have to take the initiative to know it unlike when the good thing was new and blowing up. This doesn’t exactly apply to my discovery of the Sopranos, which is more famous now that ever before, but to a lot of other things.
The apartment situation is settled for now. After going back and forth several times, my current roommate (Tam) has decided to stay. This is a great relief since I have less time than usual this month to interview prospective roommates. Having my home life unsettled is very difficult for me and gives me very loose and frequent bowel movements. Since hearing that she will stay, my stomach has settled significantly and the fatigue I feel no longer has that sickening edge. I am tired because I had a show last night at Otto’s Shrunken Head. I feel that my performance was detached, boring, uninspired or inspiring, and during it I felt sorry for the audience (my friends) and for myself and for Michelle and really this all proceeded from a feeling of nervousness and depression that had persecuted me all day combined with the extremely intimate setup and atmosphere of the room. I thought the management was going to be upset that we brought under ten people, and I felt better once a few more people showed up. But I did my part as usual I brought the most people! I couldn’t believe this girl showed up who came to see my apartment last week and expressed (what I thought was superficial) interest. She is from Korea and her English is very soft and sometimes difficult to understand. She used the drink ticket I gave her and left after two songs though. Certainly, quality is more important than quantity, and in some ways I would be happy to just perform for our girlfriends. Michelle’s opinion and experience matters the most to me. Unfortunately, she was suffering throughout the evening with severe menstrual cramps. I also think I am starting to pms since yesterday I felt more unstable than usual. Here is an excerpt from my real diary:
“I feel Tam is trying to take advantage of me now and putting me in a stressful position. I wish I could just live with Mishy – why am I so afraid, why did it upset me? I hate myself!! I hate the apartment and I hate everything! I need Michelle badly right now, but I’m always going to need her, it’s one fucking thing after the next – And I have a show tonight. I’m not excited about it. I hate everything. Feel upset! Nothing is settled … nothing is.”
Mishy said the show was objectively decent, including my performance, and she said that the volume of Mark’s guitar is annoying. Everyone says that. But you cannot reason with him! He pretends he doesn’t understand, blatantly lies about being unable to turn down for this or that reason, becomes emotionally volatile, or changes the subject… I mean, even when we are all three saying that it’s too loud in practice, he will not turn down. If anything, he turns me up. For one thing, he’s probably a little deaf by now. And the other thing is that it’s his band and that’s how he likes it. It’s his band because he puts the most energy into it, and the most money and time. On the other hand, he should get a fucking clue because nobody wants to hear it like that. Everyone complains behind his back. What can I do??? In some ways I am used to it. But Michelle’s comment last night made me feel I have to do something about it. I told him on Monday I’m not the fucking Orphan Annie and I’m not going belt every song. Every song is not a screamer. He’s playing melody lines in my range at a volume I can’t compete with. If there is a give and take, I can alternate with his lines, but if they are constant, like our new jam, I’m fucked and it’s depressing to try to compete with him. Apparently he was annoyed the other night when someone yelled out “the singer is the best” and took it as if I was the best “in the band.” That’s so stupid, there is no comparison among people playing different instruments versus singing. He should have just taken it as a good sign, and as a sign to turn down instead of drowning everyone else out for once. Anyways, I guess the management was not mad at us for not packing the house on a Tuesday night, but was happy with us because the booker came to me and expressed a very positive reaction to the music and said he would like us to come back soon and on the regular possibly. It was a Goth / death rock / furry cuffs and spiky bracelets party. We don’t look like we fit in that scene, but our music is somewhat “grim,” as Michelle’s mother said.
The final thing I have to say is, I’m looking forward to watching the Sopranos tonight. I am on episode four of season one, ha. I’m way behind. It’s funny how people can discover things that are good or great at different moments in time. Last night this drunk and annoyingly friendly guy named Otto was upset that I never heard of the band Television. As some people get older, they expect younger people to know everything they know, but the younger people have to take the initiative to know it unlike when the good thing was new and blowing up. This doesn’t exactly apply to my discovery of the Sopranos, which is more famous now that ever before, but to a lot of other things.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Reviews
It seems Michelle and I have stopped taking so many pictures of each other, and I think this is probably a good sign. This isn't to say I intend to (ever) stop photographing my girly friend's gorgeous self, but that perhaps we have been focusing more on the immediate moment than recording it. Or maybe we are just getting lazy and the cameras aren't new anymore. Either way, I have no photographic evidence of the weekend's activities.
The last blog I wrote "All About Michelle" is a good example of me being a brat, I think. I'm glad she read it in my presence rather than alone where there's more chance to take the nastiness to heart. I'm grateful that she has a sense of humor about my tendencies during (perceived) conflict to (slightly) wound rather than really communicate, which I am committed to learning how to do better, and really have come a long way. So anyways, please disregard the reference to Mishy working at Starbucks etc. She knows what's best for her and I respect her processes and decisions.
At this point we are discussing an August 1st co-habitation, and it is a source of great excitement and nervousness to me. I can't even really write about it here because my thoughts on this one are going into my real journal first, and then to therapy, then to my friend Maggie, and to Mishy, then here perhaps.
Yesterday I let Michelle read my journal and I forgot about one mini secret that was in there and she read it and had a bad reaction. Now this reaction is being overshadowed by the discussion on domestic bliss, but I wish I could undo keeping a secret, however small, but I had many reasons and justifications of course.
The show on Friday night was good and bad. The bar (169) was not good. Basically they took our girlfriends' money, kept it, no guest list, gave no drink tickets till the end, did no sound check, told us to play quietly (why have us come?), wouldn't turn me up or even respond to my requests for a sound person to talk to me, meanwhile the band before us was very loud, this guy was just an asshole, and then after four songs they said two more. Then we were upset because we planned to play all our songs. But the people in the bar seemed to like us a lot and especially like me, yelling things like "the singer is the best" and protesting when we were going to be cut off. And it became a funny thing, our anger and the "crowd" protesting. So we played (at my suggestion) our loudest song, as loudly as we could. That was supposed to be the 2nd to last song, but as it ended they turned off my mike and starting playing the bee gees. Then the crowd complained and I think the management saw it would displease everyone to really kick us off in a non-friendly way. So we played one more, also very loudly, and managed to have a good time. I was nervous at first because there was no height on the "stage," and no lights, just a slew of strange, dorky boys right in my fucking face and talking to me too. Really they were only a few feet away, and nothing separating us. That was nerve racking, but I loosened up by the end and felt happy but we won't play there again. Tomorrow night we are playing at Otto's Shrunken Head where I was with Mishy this past New Years Eve, when it smelled like vomit and I can't remember anything about the band that played.
The last blog I wrote "All About Michelle" is a good example of me being a brat, I think. I'm glad she read it in my presence rather than alone where there's more chance to take the nastiness to heart. I'm grateful that she has a sense of humor about my tendencies during (perceived) conflict to (slightly) wound rather than really communicate, which I am committed to learning how to do better, and really have come a long way. So anyways, please disregard the reference to Mishy working at Starbucks etc. She knows what's best for her and I respect her processes and decisions.
At this point we are discussing an August 1st co-habitation, and it is a source of great excitement and nervousness to me. I can't even really write about it here because my thoughts on this one are going into my real journal first, and then to therapy, then to my friend Maggie, and to Mishy, then here perhaps.
Yesterday I let Michelle read my journal and I forgot about one mini secret that was in there and she read it and had a bad reaction. Now this reaction is being overshadowed by the discussion on domestic bliss, but I wish I could undo keeping a secret, however small, but I had many reasons and justifications of course.
The show on Friday night was good and bad. The bar (169) was not good. Basically they took our girlfriends' money, kept it, no guest list, gave no drink tickets till the end, did no sound check, told us to play quietly (why have us come?), wouldn't turn me up or even respond to my requests for a sound person to talk to me, meanwhile the band before us was very loud, this guy was just an asshole, and then after four songs they said two more. Then we were upset because we planned to play all our songs. But the people in the bar seemed to like us a lot and especially like me, yelling things like "the singer is the best" and protesting when we were going to be cut off. And it became a funny thing, our anger and the "crowd" protesting. So we played (at my suggestion) our loudest song, as loudly as we could. That was supposed to be the 2nd to last song, but as it ended they turned off my mike and starting playing the bee gees. Then the crowd complained and I think the management saw it would displease everyone to really kick us off in a non-friendly way. So we played one more, also very loudly, and managed to have a good time. I was nervous at first because there was no height on the "stage," and no lights, just a slew of strange, dorky boys right in my fucking face and talking to me too. Really they were only a few feet away, and nothing separating us. That was nerve racking, but I loosened up by the end and felt happy but we won't play there again. Tomorrow night we are playing at Otto's Shrunken Head where I was with Mishy this past New Years Eve, when it smelled like vomit and I can't remember anything about the band that played.
Friday, June 8, 2007
All about Michelle
I have a show tonight. I refuse to think about it, that's how I cope with nervousness. Some people from work might come and might not... we're playing a new song. I love it and I hope we don't fuck it up. We just wrote it this week. It's one of the best ones, a sweet one. I don't know what I'm going to wear.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Friday, June 1, 2007
tit for tat and my great plans
Yesterday while walking to therapy I was waiting to cross the street at 6th avenue and 23rd street and I accidentally stepped, very lightly, on the heel of the man in front of me. I had headphones on but I know that I said "sorry" loud enough for him to hear me. Anyways, that fucker followed me across the street and as I stepped onto the opposite curb stepped on my heel so hard! I turned around and there he is, saying "sorry." Isn't that crazy? I thought it was funny but it also made me angry, especially because I was very hungry.
In therapy I decided I need to start looking for a new job. There are many things I like about this job, but I need to get one that has an affordable health insurance plan. My foot problem is not going away, even though I prayed for it to go away. Every single second that I'm walking I'm thinking about my foot, knee, and hip. I'm trying to walk balanced so that the hip and knee don't hurt, but then I'm putting pressure on the foot, and it feels like it might explode sometimes. I don't think it's mental anymore. It has gotten much worse from living in NYC because I walk everywhere. In college I could still go running, wear regular shoes, and it only acted up a few times a year. Now it is a constant pain and stress. So, I probably will need surgery. Having no health insurance makes that impossible. The company I work for now has a plan requiring the employee to contribute 300 per month, which I definitely can't afford, unless I stop paying my school loans, toss my phone and quit therapy, or some other impossible combination of sacrifices. Plus the deductibles are high, so I would also have to contribute more than 250 if I actually got treated for something serious. I haven't had health insurance in over four years, although I had at least one physical and saw a Korean doctor in Queens for the acid reflux/ulcer/whatever the hell that was.
So last night I forced myself to look at my most recent resume, which is from August 2005. I made a couple cosmetic changes and found the whole process very empowering. Now I have to start "seeing what's out there," which is my therapists favorite expression, but I have to really do it. Then I have to buy an interview outfit. This idea is extremely repugnant to me. I feel like such a fake, gross, tacky piece of shit wearing the interview outfit, especially with dress shoes. Then if I get a job, I have to buy more clothes, because I only have jeans and T shirts, and not very many of those either.
This is all to say, I'm moving forward! One little cosmetic change to my resume at a time, one pair of dress pants at a time, one date with Mishy at a time.
In therapy I decided I need to start looking for a new job. There are many things I like about this job, but I need to get one that has an affordable health insurance plan. My foot problem is not going away, even though I prayed for it to go away. Every single second that I'm walking I'm thinking about my foot, knee, and hip. I'm trying to walk balanced so that the hip and knee don't hurt, but then I'm putting pressure on the foot, and it feels like it might explode sometimes. I don't think it's mental anymore. It has gotten much worse from living in NYC because I walk everywhere. In college I could still go running, wear regular shoes, and it only acted up a few times a year. Now it is a constant pain and stress. So, I probably will need surgery. Having no health insurance makes that impossible. The company I work for now has a plan requiring the employee to contribute 300 per month, which I definitely can't afford, unless I stop paying my school loans, toss my phone and quit therapy, or some other impossible combination of sacrifices. Plus the deductibles are high, so I would also have to contribute more than 250 if I actually got treated for something serious. I haven't had health insurance in over four years, although I had at least one physical and saw a Korean doctor in Queens for the acid reflux/ulcer/whatever the hell that was.
So last night I forced myself to look at my most recent resume, which is from August 2005. I made a couple cosmetic changes and found the whole process very empowering. Now I have to start "seeing what's out there," which is my therapists favorite expression, but I have to really do it. Then I have to buy an interview outfit. This idea is extremely repugnant to me. I feel like such a fake, gross, tacky piece of shit wearing the interview outfit, especially with dress shoes. Then if I get a job, I have to buy more clothes, because I only have jeans and T shirts, and not very many of those either.
This is all to say, I'm moving forward! One little cosmetic change to my resume at a time, one pair of dress pants at a time, one date with Mishy at a time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)