poor baby

I was just coming home from rehearsal, another rehearsal where I feel like I'm inching further away from this band, that it's further from what I want, not that it ever was close, but the negatives are outweighing the positives (including the money). Tonight we're working on another Beatles song (yay) and the bass player suggests we do some unison on the verses, as on the original recording. Now Liz, usually the voice of reason, has this...thing about unison. She's sure it's nearly impossible to do well. Well, it is...if your intonation is bad, if your tuning is bad, etc. There aren't a lot of things I give myself credit for but I do a fucking KILLER unison. And I love a well placed unison. So I did it, with her, and it was perfect. And it freaked her the fuck out. "But, it was perfect", I said. "I know," she said, "but I just can't handle it". Uh...huh? Ok, unison gone. So there's very little that's fun here for me, from being judged by M all the time, to the shitty gigs...it's not an artistic collaboration, that's for sure. I have friends who are currently on European STADIUM TOURS. This is a tough contrast.

Anyways, I was coming home, and all of a sudden there's a deer in the road in front of me. Good thing I wasn't going all that fast because I would have hit it. Looks like someone already had because it was bleeding and dazed. And in the middle of the road. Poor poor poor baby. I just followed it and it stayed in the road. Then a car came up behind me and I put my hazards on. I had no plans of moving out of the way until that deer did. And then it did, back into a yard or the woods somewhere, probably not long for this world. So sad.

I've been thinking about crying lately and how I don't have the "privilege" of being able to cry. Nothing really feels safe for me anymore. Some friends have done some things that have left me unsettled, to say the least, and I just really don't feel safe anywhere. There's noone to turn to. Noone I can break down to/in front of, who gives a shit. That's really a gift, you people in relationships. I hope you know that. I am calcifying from having to be alone for so long, from not having anyone to say "it's ok, you can break down and I won't make fun of you, or try to hospitalize you, or judge you, or change my opinion of you, and I'll still love you". That's a gift. I heard Dan Savage saying on this week's podcast that he doesn't even know what he'd do without (his husband), they've been together for so long. That too is a gift.

We're not pals!

There's a veteran woman news anchor here who drives me nuts. She's just...not good. In my head I refer to her as "the red-faced harpie". She wears big chunky necklaces all the time. Normally I'm a fan of the statement necklace, and some of hers are nice, but when she wears them, they come off as blowsy cruise-wear, somehow inappropriate for television. I try to avoid her. But I've heard her say a few times recently things like, "the weather is nice right now BUT OF COURSE IT CAN'T STAY THAT WAY!" and then she'll go on to explain why. You know what, red-faced harpie? You and I are not pals. We are not commiserating here. Your use of the vernacular, the assumption that we all have this kind of joviality about the shitty shitty weather, it just drives me nuts. And that may very well be just me. Maybe everyone else finds her refreshing and delightful. But I hate this weather and do not feel like she's my pal who lives in the teevee. I cannot take any more bad weather news. I do not want to have to cancel or move any more plans, or to have to rush to a crowded store to get supplies because I might be snowed in for who-knows-how-many days (or maybe none)?

And when I hear friends say, "the snow's so pretty!" and I know that I'm supposed to think that and somewhere I do but really, that thought comes so far far after how much I hate it and everything that goes with it, and having to prepare the car before driving it, and just wanting it to go away and looking forward to the day when I can once again wear shoes I want to wear instead of the one pair of snow boots I own.

More to say; not ready yet.

VIwho?

I had a dream I was backstage somewhere with N and he gave me a promotional t-shirt and I took off my shirt right there and put it on. I did this because I knew I'd gross him out because I'm fat and he's in looooove and so he'd now have no interest in me, and I'd thus only humiliate myself. He just kept talking. Mission accomplished. Then I heard him talking about all the other new (musical projects) he was doing, and I left.

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Went to my own gig on Fri where again it was nearly impossible to have fun/relax/enjoy myself because M kept telling me everything I was doing "wrong", that I needed to move and smile more, that I should have a glass of wine, loosen up, maybe get high. This was during the gig. There's almost nothing worse than knowing that your own band doesn't have your back, but then again, this doesn't feel like my band. Us three girls had a movement rehearsal on Mon where M talked about all the things that need improving (most of which I wouldn't argue with) with everyone else but then also admitted that she is bored and checked out and tired of doing these songs. Then WHY ARE YOU DOING THESE SONGS?? She's not dependable on stage because she is, as she says, checked out. But she over-emotes all over the place, like bad community theater, and her friends tell her she's great (and most of my friends...don't show up), and I'm terrible, and thus it goes.

Then I went to judge an event on Sunday where two people at two different times introduced me to others, completely seriously, as "very important". So who the fuck am I? The singer who can do no right, who can't channel her inner Waiting For Guffman, or someone who is "very important"?

do you know the difference between coffee and hot chocolate?

I've had this happen several times now, so I guess it's A Thing: people will ask me if I want a cup of tea, I'll say yes, and then they'll tell me about all the herbal teas they have...and that's it. They don't have any ACTUAL TEA. Herbal tea is an infusion of herbs in water, it's not actually tea. That's not some hipster bullshit. It's a definition. There are no TEA LEAVES in herbal tea. In fact, most boxes of herbal "tea" say "herbal infusion" instead. So it'd be like if I offered someone a cup of coffee, and then told them that I only had hot chocolate. They're both hot beverages...and that's it. That's where the similarities end. I like actual teas, black, or green or white, or what have you, but TEA. I'm kinda surprised at how many people do not have any, but have boxes upon boxes of herbal stuff. Blech.

Herbal tea

Tisane, or herbal tea, is any non-caffeinated beverage made from the infusion or decoction of herbs, spices, or other plant material in hot water. Wikipedia

 

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I'm nervous. I'm on the chopping block. The board meeting that will determine my fate is on Monday. And I have no say.  

my air plants

and other things

LA was pretty good, all told. There's always a chance that things could implode, so I'm careful now to, well, make sure that doesn't happen. Weather was very pleasant and in the 60s, which meant that people were complaining about how "cold" it was the whole time I was there, which I thought was hilarious. Pam and I went to the Fri night concert and I got to connect with some people there, but because we got there late, we sat in the back and I sort of felt untethered. The venue's so big. I'm not all that into scholastic a cappella, to be honest. The results were weird, though I know and trust the judges. We left right after because Pam wanted to go.

We were up early the next morning and made it back a little after 8 for my 9am workshop. There were of course some tech issues, but we solved them and I think the workshop went pretty well for never having done it before. People seemed into it. I think if I did it a handful more times it'd be solid. That's the problem only doing these things periodically. I attended a few workshops and also did two masterclasses, one with a guy I've known for a long time, and one with a young woman I'd never met. She's 24 and a spitfire. She basically commandeered the whole thing and I was kind of ok with that. The girls were really feeling her because she's close to their age and she was exactly the aca-Shoshanna, which will make no sense to you if you don't watch Girls, but if you do, you'll really appreciate because she sounded just like her.

I try to be very aware of being as open as possible and I AM happy to see so many of these people, despite it being overwhelming to see them all on what is essentially a fast moving conveyor belt all crammed into a weekend. But I know some fucking impressive people. And meeting all these kids, who are so enthusiastic and polite. They're very cute. I wish that...well, I wish that depression didn't dog me like it does, because it feels like an attachment I drag around, whether visible or not. Like if only I could free myself from this burden, I could live a life, be a person.

We skipped out on the Sat night pro concert because I didn't want to push Pam to have to stay, though I would have liked to have stayed. And I didn't go to the afterparties or anything so my experience is truncated.

I'd love to figure out a way to live there. It's so pretty and different and NOT HERE and I came home to yet another storm that's still going and I haven't left the house all day, nor taken a shower.

Made my last car payment yesterday. Then took my car to my mechanic because my horn stopped working the night that things imploded before I left. That seems appropriate if you think of it. I was silenced in more ways than one. Then some time had to pass before I got both my voice and my honk back (my voice is still a little scratchy). He checked a few things and thought he'd have to take apart the dash but then looked in his database, printed something out, went back to the car...and voila! Horn works! $12. Something that my dealership would surely have charged a lot more for, even though it took a few minutes. Love my mechanic.

in LA there are walls like this. I want to be around walls like this.