It's been suggested that I need to make peace with this Carmel cat in order to get a good night's sleep, and for him to stop coming round our place and making such a fuss. How do I go about doing this? He's discovered that we keep raw chicken on our kitchen floor. I think he's trying to move in.
He's already got his own home, or else I might suggest that he walk down the street to the Random's House for Wayward Cats.
I really need some higher cat wisdom in this situation or else my big orange boy cat is going to have to take some self defense classes.

I've got one of those little Tascam 4-tracks that takes ordinary audio tapes... this morning, on my way home from one place, I decided I should get somme tape and use my 4-tracck more often. Albetson's was right there, so Ithought I ccould get a bagel and ccoffee and cassette tape all in one stop, even though I don't usuallygo for the corporate store.
Well,get this! no cassette tapes.. Theycould special order one for mme if I wanted. So, I went somewhere else, and they had only one option of cassette tapes available. Watch out, cassette tapes are now becoming obsolete...

Emotions and social expectations can be so unhealthy. All these "suppose to"s around how to act, how to respond, how to cover up whats really going on. So, last night when the choices were, hold in the tears and see Test Face, or leave the bar to cry and miss Test Face, I chose to just cry at the bar. I wasn't willing to hold the emotion in, but nor was I prepared to miss the rare appearance of Test Face. Luckily, I got supported on both sides of my body, as the tears subsided and the beauty that is the sounds of Test Face took over. Truelly an amazing night in music, that I am so grateful I was there to experience. Two drum kits, three guitars, a computer, keyboards, and Dave Snider crooning, never sounded like there was too much going on. I was amazed at how gentle, even when abrasive, the music felt the whole time. In general, I was amazed by the entire performance. The skill between Brian and Derek on two drum kits was especially impressive. They never seemed to tread on each other and when needed built a beautiful cresendo.
To top it off, or more so to open it all up, Brian Gardiner dragged in a huge marimba and played a 5 movement classical piece inspired by water. I stood slack jawed, my body soaking in the vibrations.

The carmel cat has worked its way uncomfortablly into my subconcious mind. My big orange boy cat now fights with the carmel cat every night. As I fall asleep, I swear I can hear him lurking in the bushes below. The big orange boy cat lays on the bed with me, staring attentively out the window, he is anxious all night, never settling into my arms like usual. My sleep is restless, full of possiblities of cat fights happening on top of me. Cat fights turn into predators chasing me. Maybe The Stepford Wives had something to do with my uneasy as well. I wake up in the middle of the night, fearing the shadows moving, the creeks in the floors, the walls... I think I'll sleep at somebody else's house tonight.

My roommate rules. I'm on the laptop, sitting on my bed, using the internet, all because of him. And with the help of Tricky whose laptop it actually is, but she lets me use it. My roommate gave it a whole new systemm,and magically fixed the brokenkeyboard ... even though the "m"andthe space bar sometimes need extra convincing. Still, I'mmm very exxccited.

I broke a string during "Exquisite Corpse", a D string, and had to fumble through the last two climatic songs without it. I totally lost character. Kryztof quickly became Kelani with a head full of theory, trying to figure out how I was going to play my part in "Midnight Radio" while I was fumbling through the reprise of "Wicked Little Town". Earlier in the performance there were several prize moments, but all these were over shadowed by my mental chaos at the end. I walked off stage frustrated and grumbly, something stuck in my toe from walking around barefoot all day...

Being in the cast of Hedwig gives me an instant new clique to hang out with. The feelings between us are all so endearing. So, the cast goes bar hopping, cast members slowly leaving as the night progresses. First to Luckey's the see (the concubot), now a two piece and sounding beautiful. Then to the Black Forest to catch Crimes of Ambition in their latest line up. Lisa Blue of High Priestess piercing is now their front person and WOW, I was so impressed with the marriage that has happened between her and that band. I've seen Crimes of Ambition go through multiple lead singers and they've needed Lisa, as Lisa has needed a rock band to sing with. If you know Lisa, you already know what a strong presence she holds. Just the energy needed to make an impressive front person. And she brings the whole piercing scene with her. I highly recommend experiencing the new and improved Crimes of Ambition.
Then it was back to Luckey's to catch Hot for Chocolate, who also seemed to have bumped it up a knotch. I really like these guys and don't know why they don't get more recognition around town.
I haven't been the usual drinker that you all know and love. In comparison, I've been rather sober. I still drink a beer after practice, have one or two at the bar, but I haven't been going for drunk the way I use to. Last night, though, I got drunk. It was a strange reality. I felt as if I was revisiting myself just a couple months back. I had lots of realizations that only alcohol can bring, like: Maybe sobriety is a way of forgetting, of not dealing...

ok, and in reference to Sleeve and all his problems with "Anarchists"... I don't think I've heard any talk about Anarchy. All I hear is bitching. From what I've learned from Emma Goldman is that Anarchy is about taking responsiblity for your own actions and taking care of your community. I don't understand how a whole bunch of bitching gets people any closer to shifting a paradigm...
but then what do I know, I'm just a little girl rocker who likes to plant flowers and fantasizes about making a living through art.

Well, well... I sat down at the computer with creative ideas to write about sun shine and what not, but while leisurely eating my bagel, I read Mr. Random's blog which lead me to Sleeve's blog and caused a whole lot of blog-reading catch up as well as sparking my brain with opinions...
oh the world of corporate music. First off, there's really no reason to get mad at the Rock n Roll Soldiers... yet. If they forget Eugene and KWVA, well, then we can get pissed at them. I personally have never seen the Rock n Roll Soldiers, but from what I've heard of them, they put on a great show and are completely major label material.
Plus, I understand that they are quite young, and man, getting taken out to dinner, told some good stories about recording and touring and what we can do for you sure is exciting. I'm grateful for my days in college radio where I got this oprotunity from labels... no fantasies of recording and touring, but dinner and free drinks with a bunch of schmooze language can just be fun. Then there are the grandiose fantasies that over ride historical influence. God, the idea of having somebody else pay for your recording in a fat ass studio with people who can make your shit sound the way you want it to, with the opprotunity to work with big wigs who you've always heard about, make a video, have a tour bus and hotel rooms... this is all very attractive. True, it just may be the devil's work, the album may end up sounding glossy and over-produced, taking the life out of a club oriented rock sound. True, the label may begin pushing the band members to look and act a certain way. True, the label may insist that the band change certain things about themselves. But not every major label release sucks, and not every artist walks away with a horror story to tell. Some of my favorite artists are on major labels.
Honestly, I have major label fantasies all the time (don't die Sleeve). True, I know the idie road is more my style, keeping door prices low for the people, connecting on a personal level, and creating a feeling that the band has a symbiotic need for the audience is an important part of The Ovulators, but I also get damn tired of getting paid less than $11 an hour to get kicked, bit and spit on (I'm speaking literally, not symbolically), when I just want to be at home working on that new song...

so, thank god for summer vacation and my moment in time when I get to experience just me, the river, the dirt, the flowers growing, six strings, and my four track.

Its five in the morning. As usual, the big orange boy cat is with me in slumber. This morning, at this early hour I wake up to him diving off the bed and after something else, alive and moving through the darkness. In a blurr they are under my bed. The big orange boy cat is yowling fiercely at this other animal, which I am hoping is a cat. I turn the lights on, look under the bed, fearing that the animals are going to lunge out into my face, but I can't see anything in the darkness. I start moving the bed around, hollaring to get out. Finally, the animal darts out. It's the carmel cat I've seen around the neighborhood. This cat is completely freaked out and literally bouncing off the walls. Suddenly this cat is everywhere at once, knocking things over, running across my just bought piece of Beastie Boys vinyl, and the big orange boy cat is right after him, every where except out the door. This cat was acting the way I've seen birds act when caught by a feline and carried into the house, fearing for their life and having no rational wits about escaping. I continue yelling. In my sleepy haze, I have no idea what senselessness I was emmiting. Finally, the carmel cat finds the door, races down the stairs, up the bookshelf and smacks himself right into the window on the landing, just like a bird, not realizing the window was something solid. In his failure, he ran right back up the stairs, into my room and back under the bed, the big orange boy cat, ofcourse on his tail. At this point, my brain is beginning to work logically, so I go downstairs and open the backdoor, so I can shoo this cat in a straight line out of my house instead of into my living room for a further raucous cat chase. Then I go back up stairs... reeeyowwww merooooowwwww goes the big orange boy cat from under the bed, doing his part to rid ourselves of this intruder. I begin shaking the bed back and forth, trying to get them out. Finally, it happens. The stranger cat is out from beneath the bed, out my bedroom door, down the entire staircase and straight out the back door. I shut the door tight and lecture the big orange boy cat about leaving the door open and fall back asleep...

join me in honoring Ray Charles whenever you see a flag at half mass...

car smells like hair spray. every day, reminance of eyeliner. amp definatelly broken. chords not memorized. hair color becoming dull, dingy. becoming a band member of the Inch, and not a smiley girl rocker. lusting after Itzak. Hedwig doesn't appriciate him or even know him the way I do...

well, take the amp to the amp-doctor. Amp-doctor can't get my amp back to me for at least 10 days!!! Woah now. Opening night is a week away and I have to have my shit dialed IN, I need the amp NOW. The guitar guy helps me out. Lets take a look he says. He replaces a tube and that awful hum goes away as I expected. He has me play loud and distorted, (louder than the Ovulators ever let me get) for half an hour. No smoke. He says, well, it should be ok for the time being, even though he assures me that the tube wouldn't cause the amp to smoke...
so, I've got to jump in daringly and hope all goes well. Jesse and I joke about the potentials of a rock n roll show in flames opening night, with Hedwig fanning the amp off while the Inch exclaims in German accents... now that would test our theatrical skills.

Other tests just keep on pushing in my life. This would probablly be a good time for an astrological reading. Something is definatelly going on in my life, pulling me like taffy, stripping me down to my bones. My Saturn's return wasn't nearly this painful or exposing. New reasons to cry seem to continue to erupt. And I am making big changes. My environment paring down, shifting. My body doing the same. Guitar beneath my finger tips again and again my faith, my love, my grounding force.

We're all costumed up now, I get to be the punk boy from the movie. I still need a pair of red Converse high top all stars to round out my outfit. I'm going to try out wearing pleather, but it might be just too hot under those stage lights. Adam is in complete makeup with wig. The stage set is up, we all know where to stand. Jesse is running around adjusting lights, telling Carrie to write it all down while we, the Angry Inch, rip out the first three tunes of the performance. Then Mark Van Beever screams "it's smoking", he's talking about my amp, and sure enough smoke is spiraling out the back. I've been wondering why that horrible buzz has been happening...
Jesse whisks the amp away from me, telling me they'll get it fixed immediately. Wow, did I just enter the professional world?

my head is full of wigs.
disecting musical moments,
I forget to remember full chord progressions...
a whole rock opera full.
Less than a week until I have to put away the book and pull it all out of my head, which is full of wigs.

I finally understand that the universe has organized my life so that these last two weeks can be fully attented to this amazing impressionable play by John Cameron Mitchell. Last night, after some four hours of practicing, I watched the movie. I was so impressed with Mitchell's expanded character of Hedwig in the movie, so many extra nuances than in the play.
The whole message of the story... searching for your other half, simply to find that you are whole on your own, hit me hard last night. I've known this for so long, and yet, sometimes I forget. I get completely mesmerized by this Other, and granted, it is alot of fun to get mesmerized, it is no reason to forget myself.

Thank you, Mr. Random, for caring and asking me back into the blogging world.