The Drivel From Tonight's Fun Time (my apology)

Once upon a time, there was a girl. This girl was around the age of eighteen, and she had decided to survive in the land of Las Vegas, otherwise known as Sodom, for the duration of the year, after much effort to exist happily elsewhere.

Having lived in the city of devils for a while, she met a fellow who she felt a real connection with, and decided to align herself with him. This guy was a nice person who was also a drummer, who knew the secret songs that moved the hearts of some, and who had a similar history to the gal. The gal consequently connected with the fellow...

....Birth of Boy....

Eugene, Or:

Ben finds a band, a piece of belonging. He practices, creates a name for the band (Soda Jerk), schools his young minions about music and tries to impress his wife that his band is really going somewhere. His band has a few shows at which his wife (and son) is in attendance.

Holly:

I am at a show where my husband is playing the drums. It is quite amusing because the other band members are quite young- in their teens/early twenties and have never really lived. Ben has lived and is thus a kind of parental and iconic figure to these fellows. I have no patience for them. They are young, over-privileged boys in college. They have lives I could not fathom. They have hooked up a few concerts and we have to transport their gear and bodies, and when we get there I wander around carrying Raven (the infant) while they play. I walk into the basement/garage/oddly huge coffee shop/ carrying my baby while my husband plays the drums and tries in vain to find rock star acceptance and admiration. People swarm around the band and give them support, patting me on the back while they let me know that they dig the music, dig that I am letting the man make it.

Now it is much later and the drummer has died, the infant is fourteen, and the mother (myself) is 35. I go to concerts, dance, get into the music and feel connected, not unlike those youth so long ago. But I can also see the other side. The side from which the dirt is- where the audience can be seen as an odd and freakish entity, but a necessary one, and where the band is a bunch of oddly connected friends with some extra females attached and perhaps some other humans- small ones- also connected. It is always so strange for me to go to shows, but I cannot stop going.

I watch the main character, or the drummer. They are both the most important parts of the band.

Ben wanted me to be his band’s singer. He encouraged me to sing like Billie Holiday, and to be like Kim Deal. I had no desire to be a front person for a band. But I was flattered indeed that he tried to encourage me to sing, when I knew (felt strongly) that I had no real ability.

Today:

I went to John Henry’s and enjoyed the Sid & Fancy CD Release (EP Really) party and listened to the bands. I tried not to look too much at the lead singer, Aaron, because I know he has a female. She goes to all of his shows, like I did for Benny, and boogies in the front of the dance area. She’s a cutie. She take pictures and makes me afraid to say howdy to the band, particularly Aaron. So I tried to enjoy the band without stepping on her toes. I think I did okay.

Aaron dedicated “You” (Bad Religion) to me, which made me feel like a rock star. I am very honored and grateful.
I still didn’t thank them. How rude. Guess I should now. Thanks!

Some day I’ll do a really good job of telling my story. But not tonight.

I do want to say though- that my husband was a decent fellow, with an unfortunate love for heroin and the rock star dream. He wanted to be a rock star, and died like one. He forgot to become one first.

Good night.

Another night of stuff...

Well, the first post- I had a friend of mine peruse it and she declared that I sounded like I was lonely. Perhaps I am, sometimes. In fact- YES, I am- SOMETIMES. Other times, I am not. I am content to be free of gropers and space-inhibiters.

Tonight has been another one of those nights that reminds me of how lonely I can feel at times. And also of how glad I am to be alone.

Partly because I escaped my shell of safety and stress-free no-body-ness.

Yes, I went out - - - alone.

I ventured over to Luckey's- one of my very favorite bars- to see Sid and Fancy, I good local Irish-punk-bluegrass-band. I got there after ten, when the first band started, and thought I was safe to sit at the bar and drink alone. But no- apparently I haven't gained enough weight to scare off all males, so a fellow crept up and asked if he could fill the seat beside me- of course, being polite, I said he could. Poor lad was drunken and probably couldn't see well, but he stuck near me for another hour or so- until I tired of him and his inebriation. Thankfully, I had a fairly easy escape.

I was idly flirting with the idea of flirting with the singer of Sid and Fancy; because he's a charming and friendly guy, and I think that he's adorable and fairly approachable. Then it occurred to me that he was probably attached to this one female who was at the last two shows, right in front and dancing and cute as a button. So I decided to avoid that quagmire. I don't want to interfere with a coupling. I don't want to interfere with anything, for that matter. It was tempting though, since he made it clear that he remembered me from the myspace comment I left on the band's profile page; referring to the last show at the WOW Hall. Yes. I am a sucker for being noticed. Notice me, and I go and take it personally. So watch out.

But I did have a great time dancing and getting silly and talking to a bunch of people and buying a CD from the band (Their name is Williston, from Seattle- not bad attall) that opened for S&F (S&F don't have a CD out yet), and I even had fun imagining that I was attractive and that there were people in the bar who were watching me and thinking I was looking impressive. Then, I noticed how the lady who I thought was attached to Aaron (the Sid & Fancy lead singer) was beginning to act possessive. I also got the paranoid impression that the people who I was dancing near were starting to take my dancing near them personally, and were wondering if I was hitting on them. Especially when they started moving away from me. Then I started feeling less impressive and more dorky and awkward. Then I thanked the handsome lead singer fellow for singing the uncensored version of one of Bad Religion's best songs (You), in my humble opinion- largely because it was dedicated to me about fifteen years ago by an admirer- and found my coat.

I finally decided I had better go home and see how my boy was faring.

He was cursing the darn computer for not letting him on myspace. Poor lad.

It's funny- I don't know what I'm going to do in four months. I have this dream job, and I love it and want to keep it, but it ends in June. I know I need to look for a different job, but I keep hoping I can keep the one I have, so I avoid the hunt. Also, the hunt is horrible and I want to avoid it at any cost. Maybe I should just skip country and try to find a new world and life. And deal with my son hating me for dragging him away from his homeys. Yep.

And it would be so cool if there were an adult male who had the hots for me; who was impressed by me, interesting, honorable, and available; who was interested in me, attractive, smart, capable, and trustworthy; who was not afraid of me; didn't think I was a lesbian because I don't feel like shaving my legs or pandering to any male who flirts with me.

I know- too much to ask for in US of America.

Or to much for ME to ask for. Then, it would also be nice if there were such a male, and he actually communicated with me about it. There's the rub. Or whatever.

Ugh- it hurts to act like such a vulnerable female person- even every once in a while. I hate it. I don't want to be vulnerable- to be needy, but I am sometimes- in some ways. Dang it.

Blah.

Good evening/morning world.

I'm going to try to go to sleep, or something.