Every so often I like to try to take stock of my life by visiting where I was a year ago on this blog. This was a good month to do it since I did NaBloPoMo and blogged almost every day of November.
Last year I was still mad at my former employers about something stupid. I also spent a week at home with my family after going to an amazing show at the Viper Room. Last year during this month I saw my first NHL game with The Loss Adjuster. I was also unemployed, usually drunker than shit and about 20 pounds heavier than I am right now.
Things aren’t perfect for me now. I’m still a little heavier than I’d like to be (not much though, so suck it haters) and I’m only partially employed, although as is the nature of the business I am in, my job is almost all I think about. I’ve made some new friends with some of the most down ass motherfucking boys I have ever had the privilege to know and I think when our adventure in working together ends some day, we’ll stay in touch, at least if I have anything to do with it.
My sense of self is better even if my bank account isn’t. I’ve stopped dying my hair some absurd color every five minutes. My fashion sense has improved dramatically I think. I listen to a lot of new things that I didn’t last year, mostly because I didn’t know it was there. I’ve reconnected with my love of club DJ’s and I’m learning new things every day. It’s all improvement even if some areas of my life still aren’t where I’d like them to be. I feel an upswing in my luck for the first time in awhile and I think I’m proud of that or at least feeling thankful.
Being Discotrash finally doesn’t suck all of the time. This is something to celebrate. Probably with hobo wine, because bitches I have a jug of it going right now.
The other day I was browsing apps for my iPhone and came across the CBS radio app, which I was stoked on because now I can listen to some of my favorite out of market stations on my phone whenever I have wifi in my life. I think this is fantastic and I’ve got a couple of radio apps on my phone for this, because I can take it into the bathroom or bedroom to listen to while I get ready to go somewhere.
So I downloaded the app and popped open the menu and wow, was I shocked at seeing this:
did you throw up in your mouth too?
WHO THE FUCK WANTS AN ALL NICKELBACK STATION? I mean is this seriously something people wanted and demanded? And do these people hate themselves? And is there actually ENOUGH Nickelback to fill an entire channel on AOL radio? WHAT THE FUCK?
Needless to say I scrolled by that shit with the quickness. All Nickelback… barf.
To say I’ve been in a weird place mentally for awhile now would be an understatement of the largest kind. I’m just all kinds of all over the place and really don’t have a direction except work, drink, sleep, fuck, wash, rinse, repeat, wipe hands on pants.
Work is my total life right now. Kind of crazy for a part time job. But it’s what I love and even though things aren’t perfect where I work, I love the pirate ship feeling of the whole thing. There’s only like three people in the programming department and we all lean on each other pretty hard. Because we have to. And I like that.
I find myself letting go of old hurts. Of old things that actually mattered to me more than most people know and trying to embrace what I have. It’s hard because I don’t think I’ll ever be fully over it and what was taken from me. But I’m trying.
I woke up with this song in my head. It’s true.
Face to Face – “Disconnected”
you don’t know a thing about me
is there something you should know?
I can tell you what you want to hear
let your inhibitions just go
no, you don’t know what you will give up
you don’t know what you want
it may take you years to find out
you don’t know what you need
it’s something that may never come to you
trust is something that comes easy
when you’ve never been a victim
lies and promises and words are said
it’s you’re decision to accept them
no, you don’t know what you will give up
you don’t know what you want
it may take you years to find out
you don’t know what you need
it’s something that may never come to you
After much drama, I HAVE THE INTERNET AGAIN. WHICH MEANS I’LL POST AGAIN.
morning noon and night
gotta wash that fine cuisine down with something
so nice that my debt collectors keep sending me coasters
daily pose at work
this is an alternate look for me
And honestly the only things keeping my head above water are:
the blood is the life
yapping into one of these
wearing these every day
Some random compliments and a dream that some day this is going to get better and I’ll be able to live like a real person instead of a broke ass college student or something.
Dear Maine,
Please be smarter than California and come out against Prop 1. Love is for everyone.
Thank you.
Discotrash
I know, I know I’ve been a shitty blogger but we just don’t have internet at home and I don’t get on much at work, although that’s where I am now, borrowing the connection and catching up on some stuff. Luckily I am blessed to work for some one hella cool who understands this no internet at home thing sucks.
Anyway in the spirit of the holiday I want to share my favorite spooky band with you and a story.
I never saw 45 Grave as this incarnation, but I did see them later on as Penis Flytrap. They played at the Bar Sinister in Los Angeles. This is a place I went with semi alarming regularity (although I did get kicked out of the “fetish room,” once for laughing) and yeah I was a gothic dork, sue my ass.
Anyway this night I got to see what was essentially 45 Grave for 10 bucks on the patio at Sinister. And I was in the very front of the stage. And during the course of the show not only did Dinah Cancer touch me, at the end when I finally met her, she gave me a Halloween pumpkin bucket that was just filled with random cool crap. Spider rings, candy, etc. And she was gorgeous even though at the time she had to be like in her mid 40’s and this was well over eight years ago. She seemed to be amused to hear that I had paid an astronomical amount to see her earlier that year with one of the girls that used to sing with Rozz Williams.
Anyway… Happy Halloween. I hope to be back online with some regularity in the future. And if you’re looking for stuff to read, click that Sex is… ad on my page. Seriously.
Over the weekend our indoor cat got out and got away from Hobo Island. I of course was frantic and spent a great deal of time crawling around the neighborhood looking for her with a Virgin Mary candle and crying. I must have looked pretty crazy when I ran into a couple that lives in the condos next door to Hobo Island because they set out to help me start finding her.
Five people and about an hour later we finally hearded the cat inside and all was well.
The next day we came home to find a new flashlight on our doorstep with this note:
It made me feel good about life for a minute and I just wanted to share…
I’d like to blog and bring you up to date on how hobotastic my life is but you see my cable has been shut off. So this is coming straight off my iPhone (3 g service my fucking ass). In theory I’ll have the tubes up and running again soon or will steal some net time at the office after I clock out someday this week. Ugh.
I am too old to be living like a broke college student but this is the magic of radio…
home sweet home
I have to say that being back at work is really changing my frame of mind. At least for five to six hours a day, I know what I’m doing and what I want to get done. I know the language. I know the feel and the look and how to get it done. I put my head phones on and I’m just home for once.
I realize it sounds silly, but we’re a lot like circus people or gypsies or family. You put two people in the business in a room for five minutes and usually they know some of the same people on down the line. Or they have some horror story to share that ends in hysterical laughter. You look into their faces telling these stories and you just know. You’re kin. You’re very much the same, because it takes a certain kind of person to do this. While some people will go in and out of the biz because they just don’t have the heart to stick with it because it is hard. It is sacrifice sometimes. Like do I want to pay this bill or that bill this month because I only have XXX amount of money left from my check and no remotes or club gigs, so is it the cable or the phone that’s getting shut off this month? And which flavor of cup o’ noodles am I living off of this week? Which bars do I have love at, so I can get a little drink on after a grueling day? Who still has love for me at this venue or that venue so I can see a show and not throw down my gas money for the next week? How many holidays do I have to miss with my family because I have to be on the air? Is the phone going to wake me up at 3am because something broke at the station? Do I care that I just left there three hours ago and it’s time to go back?
But when you love it, like I do, like most of us do, these things don’t matter. Sure it’s great to make gobs of money like I used to and be able to live your life and do what you love without worry, but it’s also just great to be doing what you love surrounded by people who truly understand you and would do anything for you, even if they just met you a few days previous, because you’re all the same and they know you’d do it for them. It’s a good feeling. I’m glad to be home.
