So today, Ben and I put the finishing touches on two new tracks our band recorded. We recorded a couple vocal backs and a guitar track, just to fill in a spot that I thought needed it. It sounded great on JG's stereo, after we had mastered it and burned a copy. Tommorrow we get to see how it sounds on local radio. The vocals sounded a little weak on Colin's car stereo but we took it to the strip bar(mostly because I wanted to hear it on a big system but partially because I wanted to see a couple of my friends dance to it) and the vocals were WAY FUCKING UP FRONT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I checked their levels and they seemed balanced for most of the stuff they were playing so it's obviously the recording. It was cool though. All in all a decent night. We'll wait to see how it ends up.
Paradoxosalpha has good ideas. Such as.... 1. Grab the nearest book. 2. Open the book to page 23. 3. Find the fifth sentence. 4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal...along with these instructions.
"But there is more to be said and done in this matter of awakening to a realisation of the 'I'."
from Raja Yoga or Mental Development by Yogi Ramacharaka Published by Yogi Publication Society, 1906
I woke up at 5:45 this morning and attended a rally where I was seated about 25 feet from John Kerry. My tickets ruled!!! I really do lead a charmed life, sometimes. Long story short, I believe in alot of what the man says. I will be voting for him. I need healthcare. I need lower taxes. I need to be able to afford college and to not worry about social security and whether or not our children are being well educated. I need assurance that the working class will not only have healthcare but decent paying jobs that aren't being given to workers overseas. I need a job that will allow me to work more than 30 hours a week, that's NOT in the service industry and that provides me with health insurance and a competitive wage. These are all things he made promises about. If it's all lipservice, at least he's saying it. That's more than I can say for Dubya. If Kerry makes good on even one of these promises, that'll be more than Bush has done for me in the last four years. This guy comes off as a real person. Not a moron, not a half-wit.
Eighth row from the (hopefully) next president. I could've hit him with a spitwad. Good luck, Senator.
"Do I sound mad? Well I guess I'm a little pissed. Every action has a point, five points make a fist. You close 'em, you swing 'em, it hurts when it hits. And the truth can be a bitch, but if the boot fits... I've got an idea, you should get a tattoo that says WARNING, that's it just WARNING So the potential victim can take a left and save breath, and avoid you, sober and upset in the morning. I want to say fuck you Lucy, But the truth is that I love you Lucy, So I'll just finish my drink and have another, While you think about how you used to be my Lover."
Dialed up his homie Murs on the telephone Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong Brain freezing up, he don't know what to do But the people that know him know that it ain't nothing new Catch five rings, then an answering machine Hang up on the beep, stare up towards the ceiling Stood up to remember that he slept fully-dressed So he grabbed his keys and put a hat on his rat's nest Stepped up to that big outside Somebody once said "Today's a good day to die." But he never really was a big fan of their work So he starts up the walk by kicking sand in the dirt A friend to the strangers, a stranger to friends He'll take a coffee and a pack of cigarettes when you have a minute Handle it. Paid up. The change, you can keep it He's a sucker for the morning smile and summer cleavage If you knew him better he'd ask for some time Cuz he's looking for a reservoire to empty his mind And there's only so much he can put in a song Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong
[Hook 2X] And this house has gotta lotta walls But only very few mean anything to you And this house has gotta lotta walls But only very few mean anything to you
No shop value to titillate Far from shallow, so get it straight Blacktop, sidewalk,and the street Cuz life is priceless and talk is cheap And as he sits (as he sits) in his four-cornered room Following a tune, born to consume Carefully learning and analyzing the lyrics you use Finally realizing that humility is a bruise Scared love don't make none If these walls could speak, they would peep about the fake ones Watching this man, falling off of his plan- Underachievin' just so he can understand. (Crazy reverse speech.)
So, who did your tattoos? That's nice And who built your tabboos? That's life If he had a glass pipe, he would smash it and use it to slash his wrists But someone already beat him to it He would fingerpaint you a picture with his blood A self-portrait, dramatic and morbid But the odds of you finding any appreciation are too slim- Keeps his outlook grim Tap his foot to the rhythm of original sin Throw his balls to the wind trying to know down these pins He'll keep swinging from the hair above his chin Till he finds his soul in the fifty cent bin The price of the payphone escalates Fake smile when he takes home one of his dates He could write another hate-poem for you to break Or maybe stay calm and wait for that big earthquake Still surrounded by the fire and the water Still trying to honor this empire's daughter Still answering questions you're afraid to ask Still believing that God's gonna save his ass
If you knew him better he'd ask for some time Cuz he's looking for a reservoire to empty his mind And there's only so much he can put in a song Gotta talk to somebody who can tell him what the hell is wrong
So, the last time that Boston made it to the world series was in 1986. That's 18 years ago. Guess who pitched game 7 for the Sox. Yep. Roger Clemons. Game 7 victory in ALCS 1986, Roger Clemons. Since he turned 40, in 84 starts, he's 44-16. That's fucking phenomenal!!! Much less being 43, coming out of retirement, and opening the season at 9-3. I hated him with the Yankees. I like him just fine with anyone else. Can anyone say Cy Young # 7? He's sure as hell a prime candidate.
Edit: Brother lost it in the bottom of the sixth. They should've pulled him two batters ago at least.
This was a weird weekend. It would seem that the women are coming out of the woodwork. Friday night I went out with a girl names Laura who is very much into horror fiction(i.e. Stephen King, Dean Koontz, H.P. Lovecraft) and cheesy B-horror flicks and reptiles, so we had some common interests to talk about. We went to the local white-trash bar to see this horrible/awesome eighties/nineties cover band featuring a drum kit bigger than most people's vehicles. We then went to the strip bar(I thought of you, knight_monk) and ended the evening with a 3 a.m. breakfast at a local diner.
I worked 8-5 Saturday and while I was at work this really cute girl named Alicia came in and asked me if I wanted to go out while she was in town. Alicia is a buxom young lady with beautiful eyes and lips and an even more beautiful singing voice. We ended up going to a local pub and shooting pool and bumping into a bunch of folks she knew which indirectly created a load of drama. Luckily my midget buddy and his wife were there and we stood to the side and observed the drama, all the while, laughing and making fun. It was at this moment that I met Sarah. Alicia got drunk and wanted to go home so I bade her farewell and started talking to Sarah.
Sarah and I ended up conversing for the next couple hours on everything from polarity to yoga to (get this!) Iowa Hawkeyes football and NCAA football in general. We left the bar, went for a nice drive in the country, came back to my place and hung out for a bit.
Sunday night Sarah and I went out and had a couple cocktails while Karaoke-ing. She works part time at Penney's, is a Coast Guard reservist, and goes to school full time for pre-med. She also judges high school debate on the weekends and has really nice, full lips. We had a few reasonably decent conversations and I may actually see her again. She called me today and we talked for a bit while I cooked myself dinner. I'll at least hang out with her on Saturdays and watch football. It's weird, the only friend I have that watches football is a girl. Now, before everyone jumps down my throat about that statement let me say that there are more men that watch football than women. It's just a fact. It doesn't make anyone better or worse than anyone else, it's just the way it is.
A certain someone and I recently "hijacked" another friend's LJ with loads and loads of cock-rock lyrics in the hopes of filling his inbox with loads of junkmail. What I DIDN'T notice was that he was REPLYING to all MY comments, thereby filling MY inbox as well. So I'm neither observent nor computer savvy. This will be remembered good sir. We shall meet again, someday soon.
So at the nagging, err, I mean, encouraging of Scarlet Serpent I have decided to post an update. Where to begin?.....
WELL, I've been struggling with a slight bout of depression over a girl(as if anyone didn't know) and therefore I haven't been drinking. It's been close to a month since she left me, and it occurred to me after she left that every time this has ever happened to me I immedietly go on a three month bender and fuck random women every night of the week that I pick up at the bar. Why have I done this? To cope. I decided that this had to end RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!
So I went three weeks without a drink, and have had a beer or two a couple times since then but NOT because I needed them. So, you may ask, what have I learned from all this? The question is, what am I learning?
Well, for starters, I'm learning to cope with the things that I feel, to take responsibility for these things, to appreciate them for what they are, and not run away. I think I've really got an issue with denial and detatchment. I've been contemplating fear and how I cope with that and I've come to the conclusion that a good deal of it(all of it) stems from a fear of loss, leaving, death, change etc.
I've come to rely on things other than myself. When it comes right down to it, I'm all I have. As depressing as it may sound, it's been kind of an epiphany. I love my Brothers and Sisters and I cannot even begin to thank you for all your support but it's up to me when it comes right down to it.
A very good friend(you know who you are) encouraged me, a few weeks ago, to have a conversation with myself. And I haven't stopped since. I CAN listen to myself. Truly amazing. It's helped me a good deal to start to get comfortable with myself, once again.
So the issue at hand is this: non-attachment versus detachment. On one hand, I could forget/bury/deny all emotion, all sensation. But I like to feel. I've been more productive, musically, in the last three weeks than I have in the last three years. On the other hand, there is this voice in the back of my head and half the time it's telling me how transient and shallow these emotions are. The other half of the time it laughs at me. I think I am getting the joke.
Everything that is born dies. I take a strange sort of security in that. Proud to go to sleep at night. And proud to wake up. Work to do.
I've been really high on myself this last week or so as well. The songs I've been recording are turning into more than I ever dreamed. I rock. My studio engineer rocks. I still have my days. Some days I feel confident and sure of myself. Some days I need support. I feel no shame in saying that. Thanks for being there. I appreciate it. Thank you, Adonai. Deep breathing. Deep conversations with myself. A deeper understanding of what makes me tick and even some direction toward what I may need to do FOR myself. Like I said, I still have my days, but I know I'm in a healthy headspace.
Oh, and I caught two HUGE FREAKIN BASS today. One was about two pounds and the other I think was closer to three. 15" and 18-19" respectively. Not bad for a guy who's never INTENTIONALLY fished bass before. And at 9:30 A.M. I'm going to play with a new drummer! Life is.