WE ARE HERE!

Almost ready to come out of my holiday hibernation. This is pretty much sleep, eat, drink, watch loads of TV and catch up on shit time. I don't think I've spoken to anyone! Except my friend from out of town, and really, I didn't get to talk much. It's all about HIM!

Will write more soon!

The Rest Of The Story...

So I'm watching TV and this little informative PSA comes on about Exercise in relation to men v. women. It said that women are less likely to find exercising opportunities in their neighborhoods as compared to men, and that women also had more excuses for not exercising, like they're too tired or there is not enough time. And that's all they said.

Well, people I WILL TELL YOU THE WHOLE FRIGGIN STORY, even if the so-called researchers didn't bother to find out the reasons why.

While Mr. Guy is leaving the office and heading straight for the gym, Mrs. Wife is heading home to feed the kids. And while she's at it, she may as well throw in a load or two of laundry, get YOUR dinner started, wrap a few extra Xmas gifts or send out cards, make a few phone calls to plan the family's social calendar or the kids' weekend activities, and make a cake for old Aunt Edna's 83rd birthday. Whilst Mr. Guy may actually, maybe, clean the gutters this weekend, between football games.

AND NUMBER FUCKING TWO!

Women don't find exercise activities in their neighborhoods because while Mr. Guy decides to take a run through the neighborhood without nary a second thought, Mrs. Wife is thinking that if she does that, she may get raped. Women are constantly, 100% of the time, making decisions based on their safety. When we walk to our cars we look around before we walk out the door. We thread our keys through our fingers in case we need to fight someone. When we're carrying two bags of groceries, we know we are totally vulnerable. We don't even think about getting out of our cars until we have the house key already properly placed between our fingers. A walk through the neighborhood? Even this nice suburban one? Yes, we worry. Always. Rape is always at the back of a woman's mind. Surely a little run in the daylight along the bike path is okay. Nope. In the early 90's, 21 year-old Univ. at Buffalo student Linda Yellem, a promising track athlete, was running along the bike path in mid afternoon, on a beautiful sunny, warm day right on campus grounds. She was brutally beaten, raped, and murdered.

These idiots who did this study should have thought about how insulting their findings are.

And so now you know the rest of the story.

How old am I?

This is where I was going to post another cool and interesting tidbit. But seeing as I'm almost 40 and senile, as soon as it flashed in my head it was gone. And I'm sitting here trying to remember, and I can't. I'll remember at 4 in the morning when I get up to pee for the 7th time, but I won't come downstairs to blog it, because it'll be dark and I can't see and I might break my hip.

Martha's Trouble Rules!

Woo! Just returned from Monty's. Mary Simon is fabu as always, but who knew MARTHA'S TROUBLE was gonna be there! I've been hearing about them on the Indie scene for a year or so, and was thrilled to finally get to hear them. They were so fucking fantastic! Go check them out, everyone!

So I'm sitting there by myself, ready to hear good tunes, and out of the corner of my eye I see this lecherous sortof dude burning a hole through my left temple, staring so hard at me. I think whatever. Mind you, I'm at a table all by myself, waiting for Maria (and I thought Jessica) to show up. Sitting alone for a long time. It's okay, I prefer that most often. But it gives him the chance to finally get the nerve to ask if he can join me. I say, "Sure! I figured sooner or later someone would ask to sit here", with so many people standing, and me all alone at this big table. So I promptly ignore him. Ya know, it's not like some hottie 30 year old chick wants to hit on me, no, it has to be some 40-something balding dude with a pocked complexion. It couldn't be that gorgeous blonde number in the plaid mini-skirt. No, it had to be Mr. Hyde, the kind of guy who probably still lives with his mother. Oh wait. I live with my mother! Nevermind.

Then Maria shows up and joins me. Soon after I completely abandon her to schmooze my colleagues, leaving her with this man, and she was indeed far friendlier than I. She actually carried on a conversation with him and got his name. I suppose I would have if he hadn't been staring at me in such a creepy way. But once Maria was there, it was okay to talk to him. I had me a buffer. Thanks, Maria! He was nice enough, though really insecure and shy, that was obvious. But still.... a guy. Not that there's anything wrong with that! It just ain't my thang.

Maria gave me the most amazing gift ever! A little clay pin of ME! (IT'S ALL ABOUT ME!) Playing the guitar and wearing the same clothes as in the picture that is currently on my website. It is the best gift ever. At least until I get that horse I've been asking for for 35 years. She also gave me the cutest little statuette of a mommy kitty hugging and licking her baby kitty. Awwwwww!!!!!

So there ya go. My big exciting night. Woo. Hoo.

So what's up?

Been a busy couple of days - doing some notary mortgage closings, serving papers, etc. Boring stuff that I have to do to pay the bills. At least pay for the cat bills, who now decides she has a urinary problem. Oh. I did already bitch about this, didn't I? Yes, we went to the vet again today. She's much better, but I still have to pay a gazillion dollars in "prescription" food for her now, forever. And since I have two cats, I have to feed him the same, so double the cost.

So, tonight I've decided to go to Monty's to see my buddy and fave singer, Mary Simon, play. I was supposed to be in Canada all week, but I don't go until Sunday. Gonna spend the weekend in Buffalo, seeing my buds, and getting one more chance to see Lisa {dreamy sigh}before she goes back to Colorado. We're all gonna have a party on Sat night and say goodbye to our pal Carl Junior who's moving to NC, where his beloved already lives. God, we'll miss ya, Carl! We'll be going to the queen of all Martini bars! So many types of martini's! Too bad I hate Vodka.

Thanks for those of you who offered to help with the HTML issue, there. Will take one of you up soon, just haven't had a minute, ya know?

This friggin HTML shit. Can anyone help me? I'm trying to put the damn mood indicator at the bottom, under the archives, but it just willy-nilly puts itself on top. Whafuck?

Alrighty, hot off the presses, my new song. Not that you can hear the music. But here are the lyrics. Tell me whatcha think.
© 2002 Guitarlily Music/BMI. All rights reserved. Don't fuck with my songs.


Thursday In December

It’s a Thursday in December
Am I’m looking for you
But I haven’t even met you
Still I’m hoping to
I wonder if we’ll meet
Passing on the street
Or while I’m Christmas shopping
in the mall
It’s a Thursday in December
And I’m ready for love’s fall

Chorus:
And the green is quickly yielding
To the gently falling white
Yet my icey heart is melting
Thawing from its long frostbite

We would go out to dinner
We could drink a little wine
I’d be thinking that you’re pretty
And your laughter divine
I imagine your body
Tense underneath me
Tasting bittersweet against my tongue
It’s a Thursday in December
I love love when it’s young

(Chorus)

Bridge:
Silent night, lonely night
Will you come tonight?

It’s alarming what I’m feeling
About someone I don’t know
You’re a memory of the future
Invented in the snow

(Chorus)

The cold winds of winter
Would be far less bitter
No matter how hard they blew
On this Thursday in December
If only I had you.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

You have no idea how much I needed that.

The Daily Diatribe

Okay, so I'm listening to the radio. I listen to the radio alot because I spend hours a day in my car. And this news story comes on about the increase of harrassment against gay teens. Say it with me now, everybody! "DUH!"

This is news? Have these geniuses who sponsored the study (I think it was the council on Mental Health) ever heard of the LAW OF AVERAGES? When I started HS (25 years ago...) NOBODY admitted they were gay. We're talking huge closet. Because gays have a much bigger presence in society today and are enjoying more visibility and acceptance, teens are coming out of the closet in greater numbers. ERGO, since more teens come out of the closet, there is more harassment.

Everyone knows that suicide is the NUMBER ONE cause of death among gay teens. Kids have always called each other "fag" or "homo" when they want to insult each other, even when insulting a non-gay kid, because being called a "fag" is the worst insult. Kids will use these epithets forever, regardless of someone's orientation or how accepted gays may become in the future.

Next time, for the price of a few pizzas and six-packs, these idiots can spend an evening talking to gay people. We'll save the taxpayers a few million bucks by telling them what we already know. We don't need no stinkin' studies.

P.S.

I went to the theater tonight, guitar in hand, ready to play in the pit and nobody bothered to tell me the show was cancelled!

Don't Read This!

I am on a fucking tear, so don't read this, because it's negative and bitchy and I'm just ranting and you'll think less of me, but I must SPEW!

I can't find a fucking phone number I need to call these dickheads who owe me money, from delivering MF phonebooks in the blizzardy weather, so now I'm going to have to DRIVE to the place to beg for the check when I asked them to mail it to me to save myself the goddamn trip! Now I have to make that trip anyway and the check is probably lost and WASTE my goddamn time because I LOST THE NUMBER BECAUSE I CAN'T REMEMBER DICK ANYMORE!

Then I was serving papers today during the day and I fucking hate it. It's such easy money serving businesses and municipal agencies,but I have no patience to waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait in line, then get ATTITUDE from everybody! So then I get totally aggravated and if someone so much as beeps their friggin horn at me, I wish them a horrible death by wrapping their car around a tree, and it's not a nice thought, BUT I CAN'T HELP IT!

On top of that my CAT has some urinary issue going on and I wonder how much this is gonna cost me now? Last year she cost me $3000.00 to save her bad-liver ass. I love her so much I tattooed her beautiful face on my left bosom, and I would spend any amount of money to save her, but she's gonna drive me to THE POOR HOUSE!

Dear Lord: CAN YOU CUT ME SOME SLACK?

Don't anybody even look cockeyed at me today, I swear you'll regret it. My razor sharp tongue cuts deep and hard.

The Mystery of the Utility Knife

It's really weird. I can't remember shit anymore. I'll have my keys in my hand and wonder where they are and hunt for them. I'll put the milk back in the cupboard the the cereal box in the fridge. I'll have something in my hand, put it down, and seconds later not be able to find it anywhere at all. So why do I always know where the utility knife is? I can leave it at any location in the basement, and I'll always remember where I left it: on the cluttered desk, on the stool way in the back corner, under piles of crap on desk #2, sitting on the litter box. I always remember where I left it.

So what's so special about his knife, and why can't I remember where anything else is? What is the secret? How do I transfer this ability to the rest of my life. What, praytell, is the mystery?

I'm done with Xmas shopping. That's it. I've had it. I'm not buying any gifts for friends or acquaintances, save for my 3 best buddies. Just family and I even skimped there. What am I, made of money? I'm a folk singer, dammit!

Another stupid radio moment:

There's a commercial that refers to Berkeley, CA as the birthplace of the free speech movement. Uh, call me crazy, but wasn't the birthplace of the free speech "movement" Philadelphia, 1789, when the Bill of Rights was signed?

Stupid Radio Moment:

A radio ad for god-knows-what, but the announcer says, "For info call 123-4567. If you use TTY, please call 765-4321". UUUUhhhhh.....they're deaf. THEY'RE NOT LISTENING TO THE RADIO!

Random Thought #1:

I wonder what Gillian Anderson looked like as a baby.

Can Jesse Jackson go away now?

Okay, so Trent Lott says what he thinks is an innocuous, sycophantic compliment to an outgoing, ancient Senator, and Jesse Jackson jumps all over it. Lott said that Senator (Strom) Thurmond would have made a great president, all pandering and weepy as the centenarian Senator prepares to (finally) leave congress. But since Thurmond ran for prez in 1948 as a segregationist, Jackson leaps to the conclusion that Lott must have meant that the he should have won, then segregation would have prevailed, and blacks would have stayed in their place.

Jesse, is this the hill you want to die on? Whenever the opportunity arises that you can get face time in every media venue, you grab your “race of spades” card and play it, and whip this country into a fury of racial tension and hatred, and we don’t need it. You really want to do something to help the black community, Jesse? Spewing vitriol ain’t the way. Here are my suggestions for you to really help black Americans and to make a difference to the America at large:

1) Re-read MLK’s “I have a dream” speech, especially the part about being judged by the “Content Of One’s Character”. Then realize that to be judged so, one must actually have character. Good character. Then begin by fixing your own shit, starting with your adultery, moving along to your illegitimate child, and admitting your own failure as a man and as a supposed man of God.

2) Thank the Lord that Jews are a practical people who, by virtue of living through the Holocaust, have the perspective that there are just some things not worth suffering for, which is why they didn’t tear you to shreds for your “Hymie-town” comment, and why they don’t even bring it up today, although they certainly could. Then get your ass to every major temple in NYC (without your press posse), apologize, then shut up and stay for worship, Reverend.

3) Get your privileged butt out of your California mansion and actually venture into the ghetto, not to stand up for high school hoodlums, but to use your religion and faith to inspire and empower the community to do for themselves and each other. Get the community back to church/god. Preach the importance of education, even though the public school system totally sucks. That means you have to work harder. Tough. Teach the community that the way to succeed in America is to work your ass off, really fucking hard, and do whatever you do better than the next guy. Remind them that in capitalistic America it’s every man for himself and nobody is going to help them, so they have to do it themselves and they need to help each other. Teach them that the entitlement mentality will only keep them down. Don’t wait for the cops to stop the violence, because they can’t. Understand that there will never be Utopia, and that there will always be bigoted assholes. Show them that women and gays have used this philosophy to bring their communities to great heights. And they did it themselves, not by bitching and inciting hatred, but by struggling and working twice as hard as anyone else.

Then tell the local community so-called leaders to do the same thing on a grass roots level. Tell them to develop their own neighborhood programs that give kids something to do so they’re not idle: programs that keep kids away from drugs, programs that will help curb the high percentage of teenage pregnancy. Throw parties and festivals and celebrations, and foster a sense of “community” in the true sense of the word. Instill some pride, Jesse.

Or is that too much work for even you, Rev? Don’t want to get your Armani suits dirty? Why should you mingle with the great unwashed, when you can just spew shit from your ivory tower, knowing that the media will grab it, throw it into the fan, shooting it into the faces of guilty white liberals who will then donate money to your Rainbow Coalition, affording you those Bruno Magli shoes. This is why you will never actually do anything productive. Because if you do, your cash cow will tip over and won’t be able to get up again.

I am addicted to this friggin' blogging, and it's causing me to procrastinate and WASTE MY TIME!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Well, I didn't expect the previous posting to generate such commentary, but it made me laugh, especially the one about the food! Someone after my own heart. Hell, if you feed me, I'll sit through a 4-hour lecture on the insects found in a Cambodian knitting factory. Just keep the food coming. And the booze.


Speaking of booze, let's just face that facts that I am too old to play drinking games! So, I went to this baby shower, of all wretched things, last night. I've been to two baby showers in my life. One for my sissy, and one was in high school for a classmate. (Nice catholic girls...). I hate the things. No offense to anyone, but it's just all too hetero-cutesy-girly to me. I'd rather go hang with the guys and watch the game and swill beer and smoke cigars. But as it stands, we didn't do too many stupid baby shower games, there really wasn't all this "oooh-ahhh-awwwww" shit, and once the cake was eaten, we were playing "Asshole", a drinking card game. Now I never play drinking games. Even in college. But this was a game that causes you to drink like you would drink a normal beer. Not the kind that makes you pound til you puke (not that I puke, anyway, ever). In fact, during a regular poker game, I would have had more beer that I did playing this game. Truth be told, I was cheating anyway! Half the time when I had to pass my turn and drink, nobody was paying attention. I picked up my beer, said "Salud!" and put it back down. Nobody noticed. Sometimes I put the beer to my mouth and pretended I was drinking without sucking anything down. So, for the whole time we were playing (about 2 hours), I had two beers to everyone else's 4. Isn't that crazy, drinking that much? Thankfully, nobody was driving, because those who didn't already live at the house live within walking distance. I was the only driver, and I'd only had a few beers all night.


But still, even just a few beers these days makes me wake up feeling all foggy. Not hungover or sick, just cloudy. But still, we had a blast! It's a silly game and we just laughed our asses off more than anything, which is always good for the heart and soul. It's good to get me out of the house, otherwise I'd be a hermit, sitting in front of my computer or writing dark, depressing songs, or watching X-Files videos all day long with my cats on my lap, like some crazy old cat-lady spinster, eating snicker bars by the bagful.


Okay, gotta go and sign up for the liver transplant list.

So it dawns on me. Am I actually saying anything interesting in this blog? Does anyone really give a shit what I think about the Sopranos' season, or anything else I rant about? Which causes me to ask: Am I writing for myself, or for a mass of strangers? Just exactly how big IS my ego?

Alright, it's official. The Sopranos was totally lame this season. Probably the most boring season finale of any kind I've ever seen. A Mafia series, and the most salient issue is the sudden separation of Tony and Carmella. The only issue. I'm sorry, it was all just too clean.

But I gotta tell ya, that first scene when T and C fought....holy shit, what a great acting job Edie Falcao did. Then they kept fighting through the show and it kept pushing my buttons the uglier it got. My life was passing before my eyes. Or more accurately, my past was living before my eyes. It transported me back to my own "divorce" and the horrible ugly fights and screaming, the vitriol, the hurtful, hateful words. I could feel each word as a knife that pierced my own heart and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. It's amazing how deeply trauma embeds itself into our cells, because this was over two years ago, and I haven't given that time of my life a thought in a long time. But some external event (like this scene) can just take us back there and put us smack-dab into the moment and evoke such a visceral response. It's amazing about the body. We often work on our heads, get therapy, get through the shit, work towards being emotionally okay with a trauma, but we forget that our body has to work out the trauma as well. So here was an interesting reminder that I still have some crap about this sitting in my cells. So what to do? Exercise. Get a massage. BREATHE. Remember. Weep.

Wow, what a great weekend to lift my sluggish spirits. I had two gigs, both of which went FABULOUSLY, hung out with my buds Maria and Jessica who were, as always, great help to me, selling and modeling merch and generally talking up my shit. I need 3500 fans in every city like them. A good argument for cloning. Met Julia at the Jamestown gig, who is a doll. And in the small world category, I knew TWO people she knew. Fun gig there, and sold a good number of CD's. But the gig last night was awesome. For once the forces were with me and I got to play a much longer set than the other acts, AND at a prime time, with the largest audience. My agent showed up, too. I won a facial. And I sold something like 15 CD's. This much good luck never happens to me. I'm surprised I didn't implode.


So today is the first Sunday I've had off in a long time. It's 5:00 pm and I'm still in my pajamas. And I intend on staying in them. Watched the lam-o Bills game with beer in hand and kitty on lap (life is good).


Tonight, the season finale of the Sopranos, which has been incredibly boring and dull this season. Where's the whacking, I ask? The gratuitous sex? The scandal? Beating up Ralphie... zzzzzzzzzzzzz. Surely, he deserved a much more violent and intriguing death. Not this beating to accidental death. God, everyone wanted Ralphie dead, and he would have deserved whatever he got. Then this sexual tension between Furio and Carmella. They build and build and build...........and he leaves town {yawn}. What a story that would have been to have had a key wiseguy banging the first lady. The possibilities! But, no. Then, Paulie suffocating an old lady? What the shit it that? Killing an old lady? Do I wanna see that? Does anyone? I wanna see AJ bust his cherry. Or start running his own little scams on the side, in a 16 y.o. kindofway, just like his daddy. I want to see Meadow having passionate sex and getting her heart broken, not making dinner for her snooty roommates like some housemarm. BORING! And I want Bobby to smack the shit out of Janice, because she is an evil, manipulative bitch. Not that I'm advocating violence against women, mind you, but she must be stopped. I can't stand her anymore. And the trial??? There is a trial, right? I miss Tony's mother. What a great character she was. Reminded me of my own evil, bitter grandmother, who is no doubt paying back some serious Karmic debt in the spirit plane right now.

Okay, so what about these dreams???? The other night I watched the X-Files episode with Lucy Lawless (sigh), Annabeth Gish (dreamy sigh) AND Gillian Anderson (angst-driven dreamy sigh), and fell asleep right afterward (it was two in the morning...). and then don't I dream of all three? They were modeling for a photo shoot and I was there watching, waiting for Dana. They finish and Dana and I are hanging, then WE START MAKING OUT!!!!!!!! Can ya stand it???? I never have dreams like that! Especially with babes I'm all adolescent about. Other dream must wait! Gotta go see ER. Then I can dream about Maura Tierny. (gentle sigh)

Jessica and I had a fun time at SPoT coffee today. I half-assed read her astro chart for her. She doesn't know it yet, but she's psychic. Will see her the rest of the girls this weekend at my gig. I better practice so I don't suck. I hate gigging in the winter. Don't like leaving the house, hate trudging through snow with gear, hate being cold. Should be touring in Florida or something. Need new songs, too. Very bored with the rest. Must change strings on two guitars tomorrow. Should book a gig at SPoT again, but like I said, it's winter. Alrighty. Beddy bye. I actually have to get up at the god-awful-anti-musician time of 7:00. Yes, that's A.M.! It's midnight now. I need 9 hours. Do the math.

Whooo! Okay, I was on quite the tirade there, wasn't I? I stand behind EVERYTHING I said, but holy cow, could have written it a little more intelligently, ya think? Good ol' stream of consciousness. Honest, but poorly written. But, as promised, the 2003 "stupid fuck holidays" (to the exclusion of honorary days like MLK day, or Federal holidays. I'm talking about hallmark holidays and pandering holidays):

Feb 8 - Boy Scout Day
Feb 14 - Valentine's Day (The het girl's ulitmate manipulation. The real story of St. Valentine is sweet and sad)
Feb 28 - Floral Design Day (lest the florists miss an opportunity)
April 23 - National Secretaries Day (how 'bout just paying them what they're worth? "Hey Madge, I hope this card makes up for the insulting compensation you receive to be my personal slave!")
May 6 - National Teacher's Day
May 6 - also National Nurse's Day (we don't have enough days available to give them their own?)
May 11 - Mother's Day
May 18 - Stepmother's Day (a testament to the (d)evolution of our society)
May 22 - National Maritime Day
June 5 - National Gingerbread Day (I swear I am not making this up...)
June 15 - Father's Day
July 27 - Parent's Day
August 4 - Friendship Day
Sept 7 - Grandparent's Day
Sept 16 - Women's Friendship Day (they needed their own? Aug 4 is, what, too hot to buy a card?)
Sept 17 - Citizenship Day (Wha'???)
Oct 12 - Clergy Appreciation Day ("Dear Father, thank you for not molesting me...")
Oct 16 - National Bosses Day (like employees aren't sucking up to them 365?)
Oct 19 - Sweetest Day (a day meant to remember others with a kind act, but in which het girls found another way to PW their boyfriends)
Oct 24 - United Nations Day (should be called "The Useless Body of Bickering Bureaucrats Day)
Oct 26 - Mother-in -law's Day
Dec 15 - Bill of Rights Day (here's an idea - how 'bout we honor the bill of rights by sticking to it?)

Notice any dumbass holidays missing? What about Step-Father's Day? Father-in-Law's Day? Girl Scout's Day?

Note: directly from the Hallmark.com page: "Before we begin, please let the record be set straight once and for all — Sweetest Day was not created by Hallmark Cards" Does this mean they make up some holidays? Am I just a conspiracy theorist? Check out Hallmark.com and go to "Celebrations and Ideas", and scoll down to "other holidays". They have alot of history on the origination of some of these holidays, before they were bastardized.

Anyone else wanna weigh in on what a FUCKING OBNOXIOUS holiday Christmas is???? Maybe if we'd kept to the sacred nature of it, kept to it's spiritual significance, then we wouldn't have all this high commericialism, guilt, gouging crap. It's like "Hey, prove you like me by buying me a present". What? It's like that fucking annoying Valentine's Day, thank you Hallmark. We are ruled by Hallmark. Everytime you turn around there's some other dumbass invented fucking holiday like Boss' Day, Secretary's Day, Grandparent's Day, Teacher's Day, Nurse's Day, Homeless Person day, Asshole Day, Crackhead Day, Jewish Left-Handed Lesbian Day. Any excuse to sell a goddamn card and make someone have to suck up to someone else.


If I ruled the world, there would be no stupid holidays like this. Sacred holidays would stay sacred, and we'd celebrate birthdays, anniversaries and Parent's Day, because that pretty much will cover everyone. Not father's day and mother's day separate. One day for both, since it took two to tango, so to speak. But Hallmark found a way to split up those days. Why? So we can have a good retail day in both May AND June. These holidays were invented to sustain retail stores through the year after the big Christmas Gouge. Do I have to spend nearly a thousand bucks on people in one month? Why? Because they'll think I'm cheap or unappreciative otherwise, to the exclusion of all my generosity during the rest of the year? And FYI, we already have mother's day and father's day, so why do we have Parent's Day (July 27). Say it with me people: HALLMARK NEEDED TO SELL CARDS IN JULY!!!!


Okay, later I'm going to post all the stupid fuck holidays I can find. Right now I'm going to watch 24.

Okay, so I may be a little drunk. Just a couple of brandies but it doesn't take much these days. Watched the Soprano's, which I love but has basically sucked this year. Still miss the X-files. Farris is on my lap, purring. Cleaned the house today, what a sty. Wanted to have just one brandy, but didn't stop there. What can I say. I'm a lush. Is "lush" a dated word? Wish I was in Buffalo with my buds. Especially my buddy Marty. We'd be drinking beer watching soft porn on HBO playing the "Are they real?" game and laughing our asses off at how pathetic that porn is. Feeling so totally fat. Theoretically should have had my period today, but like, when have I ever been regular? Not that it matters: I ain't using that shit anyway. Bills won against Miami today and that's a nice thing. Have to drive to Jamestown on Friday and that could be trouble this time of year. Again, stream of consciousness babbling. I feel like the right side of my brain has cement in it.

Jessica, you have your moon in Aries in the 12th house. Please stop talking about suicide. It's not totally your fault!! Your emotional watery moon is in the least evolved sign (Aries) which is at war with it's position in the most evolved house (12th)! I use the word "totally" because we all have free will. FREE WILL! Just because it's in our chart doesn't mean we are married to its fate. No. It means that this is our predisposition but we have the free will to work through it as we go through our journey on this planet. We learn and evolve. Your sun is in the 3rd house: you like to communicate! Your moon squares Neptune. In the secretive Scorpio house, no less. Oy vey. So Please stop taking it out on yourself! It's in Capricorn, thank God. OH LOOK! Your mars is in the 3rd house, just like mine! woo hoo! So you have no problem telling people to fuck off! HAHAHAHAHA! Okay, I'll stop. And if you ask me details tomorrow about your chart I may go "HUH? Duhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....." and drool. I'm drunk now, so it's easier to read a chart. When I'm sober, I doubt myself.


Good night, no one.

Quote of the Day:

"The guy is freakin' blind!"
-Mom, regarding the Degas exhibit.


Needless to say neither of us cared for the exhibit. Certainly art is subjective, and we just didn't care for his sculptures. Degas did have vision problems, and when my mom came out with that I totally lost it, which then made her crack up, and there we were, two broads laughing our asses off, guffawing, to tears, in the middle of the exhibit. Such class. I think we may have thought differently had we been able to see Degas' actual work. But what they have there are bronze castings of his work. So it's actually the work of some foundry bronzer dude, like who cares. Is not the medium an artist uses a large portion of art, along with subject matter and content? So what the fuck? If I can't see the wax he used, am I really privvy to his original intentions? The answer is no, despite what some pretentious, faggot art critic says to the contrary.

You will live in Shack.
You will drive a black Sienna.
You will marry Angelina Jolie and have 0 kids.
You will be a singer in Italy.

So my grandmother totally had the malocchio today. All the women were over making the Christmas cookies except me, because I was working and then I had to go to the theater early today. And the minute I walked in she just ragged on me and picked on me for whatever the fuck. I made a comment about what's up with her mood, and my aunt said she had it out for everyone today, it's just that I was fresh meat at that moment. Ya know, I'm no pussy, but, like, she really hurt my feelings, she was so relentless. I'm a wimp when it comes to that kind of teasing, especially from gramma. And she knows how to push every fucking button, too, the strega. And while we're on the subject of gramma and gramma's house, can I just weigh in on what a fucking boring holiday Thanksgiving is? I'm the only dago in the world who's family can't cook. Watery sauce and stuffing that looks like green/gray spackling paste. Yech. And I hate turkey, for the record. And there were 8 of us there, and they cooked enough for 20.

Reading Hecubus's blog today. On TG day, her aunt told her that gay people were disgusting. When I was 17 my Catholic mother said that gays were abortions that didn't happen that should have. She's changed alot since.

I was on a total X-Files rampage yesterday. The Sci-Fi channel had 23 hours of X-Files episodes on and I watched about 15 hours of it. All the episodes started to blur together. I didn't know which characters had appeared in which episode, couldn't remember if the one I was watching had to do with Scully's disappearance, or if that was the last episode, etc. etc. , and today find myself in withdrawal, for god's sake. If Dana Scully was a real person, I would stalk her.

Alright. Here goes. Stream of consciousness blabbing: I'm such a nice girl. So polite and concerned with not offending my fan base or their children, so I'm always so careful with what I say on my website. I'm a dyke (duh - what chick folksinger isn't? We rule the industry, regardless of what anyone will tell you). I'm a Christian, but you'll never, ever, ever see me with a bible or hear me talk about it, unless we are mutually engaged in an interesting discussion about religion. And then I'll never tell you what you should believe. I'm into metaphysics and astrology. I believe in past lives and "ghosts". I went to Catholic school. Anyone with half a brain who knows me will figure out who I am already. Not that I'm going to be anonymous. I live with my mother, after my partner of eight years had an affair on me with a mentally unstable , insecure blond chick who also happened to be a friend. She's a piece of shit. They both are. I don't talk to either anymore. I had to go somewhere and my mom is awesome, in the literal sense of the word, not the stupid, overused adolescent sense of the word. I know a little about a whole lot of things. I've done a whole lot of things. I'm sure I come across as arrogant, but I think it's just extreme self-confidence. Even though I'm totally unconfident when it comes to my music. And that's probably because my ego is too involved. Just totally contradicted myself, didn't I? I'm mechanically inclined. What do you need fixed? I love animals, and can barely tolerate people. So if I like you, consider yourself VERY special. I have very high standards. I never sold my soul to the devil. I once thought I had the calling. And technically I did, because I belive to this day that everything I do in life ultimately serves God. I also believe that we, collectively, are God. It was once described to me like this: Imagine a lake, which is made up of countless drops of water. We are the drops of water, and the lake is God. Quite simple, really. The collective consciousness thing. I have bad money karma. I'm highly opinionated. I tend to be conservative. I listen to talk radio, because I can't stand the drek that passes for music today. I received food stamps and medicaid 17 years ago in college and was very thankful for them even though it was the most humiliating thing ever. I have a strong work ethic. So strong, that in fact, I sometimes work too hard, if there is such a thing. I tend to be insomniatic. My mind never stops, and I have music in my head 100% of the time. Today I have songs from a musical flowing though. Writing all of this has drained me, so I'll stop now.