The (lack of) vagina monologues|
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Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Monday, October 23rd, 2006|
. . . tinth blog post from here on . . .
We played at a place called "Lost Souls Cafe" in the bank district of Los Angeles tonight, just off of Spring on 4th at 9:30. Middle of the ghetto.
I'll get back to that.
Sunday started at midnight, at a party we were playing for in Riverside. 21st birthday of a girl of UCR's division of MEChA. DJ, and the Band. Latin music. Some rap. Beautiful girls. Managed to get one gals number. I'm seeing a girl right now. I haven't had a relationship and don't want one since I'm in the band and can't commit. I'm seeing a girl right now. I don't let on to her so much about what I do at parties. I'm seeing a girl right now. Will she be replaced? I don't know, but I'm positive right now that I wont' marry her. She really likes me though. I got a number from a girl. She lives in santa ana. I'm seeing a girl right now. The topics that come up for discussion within my own inner monologue on a sunday morning just after midnight.
Soccer game this morning at 10:30. Exhausted. beaten 5-1. First goal scored against me was a penalty shot. The next, not a minute later. Extremely respectul team, the nicest team we've played. I never get pissed at games, but our trumpet player showed up and was saying all sorts of shit from teh sidelines. I was exhausted, and for two minutes straight all he was doing was yelling, "Nick, you've gotta run out and catch the ball when its in the air and is in your zone, because its only you who can grab it from the air." Non-stop. 2 minutes, three minutes. FOr some reason, I turn around and yelll, "SHUT THE FUCK UP."
I never yell at anybody. It got to me. Everyone was kind of surprised that I spoke up. I'm the passive guy. I'm never upset. I played better after that, too. The other team was laughing when they saw me get pissed off. Normally the refs will yellow a player for that, but, I think he was a little bit amused at the situation as well. I cursed out pretty non-chalantly. Sometimes I surprise myself.
NO sleep, no nap, I went and hung out with my parents afterword for a while. They offered to lend me the van so the band coudl all go in one car to LA. Worked out nicely, and i Like having us all in the same car. Its an hour long ride from Riverside to LA. Good times.
As I said before, we played at the Lost Souls Cafe in the middle of the bank district in downtown LA. The place was at the end of an alley on the bottom floor of apartment buildings. Out front, as soon as I parked the car, a guy with a krispy-kreme donut cup held out toward our guitar player was reciting a whole lot of bohemian beatnik jive. "There's a hole in my bucket as big as the hole in my stomach, i haven't got a thing inside me except for synthetics. I breathe and preach because I don't have anything to teach." None of it made sense, but for some reason the bandmates gave the guy money. I just sort of ignored him like I do with all panhandlers. I've gotten used to it, and they pretty much know my type. I ignore you, you ignore me.
As soon as we walked into the Lost Souls cafe, the group before us was playing background rythms for the beatniks. Rastafarians all over the place. Everyone at the microphone had some words about Selassie, before they started rhyming. I wasnt' sure if most of the people there were bums, but most of the people there were wearing what barely passed as clothes... Almost alll rags. One guy got up before us and spoke of the white man taking the red man's land, and bringing the black man for his helping and slaving hand.
I had a strange feeling that these people wouldn't immediately welcome us to the stage.
Enter Nick Shades, the name the band gave me. I wear sun glasses because my eyes twitch when I play, and it keeps the distraction away. I can open or close my eyes at will, and take in what the crowd feels. It was hotter than hell, and I was sweating all over, my eyes were filled with salt, and stinging, so I kept them closed for half the show.
We started off with "Chucos Suave." A song that came frmo the movie "Zoot Suit" starring Edward James Olmos as El Pachuco - that - our mentor of spanish dance turned us onto when he showed us the movie he had a role in. I thought it was a very, VERY big contrast to open with against the rest of the crowd. I wanted one of our slower swing style songs to be the first, but Allen, our lead singer, made a bold decision to introduce ourselves to our foreign audience.
We had some cheers. It was a coffee shop. Most people were on their laptops, doing their own thing and not paying much attention to us as an audience. We got claps after, always. We had a good set. But it was a little crazy.
I realized, that I was wearing my shades. I was a white guy on the sax in front of a bunch of brothas. Being a white guy on a sax in front of a bunch of black guys, my first teacher told me, is like walking on thin ice. I never experienced it until right then and there.
Alot of people are aware of a typical Black vs Hispanic culture clash in southern california (And other metropolitan areas). Being the white guy in a mexican band in front of an audience of rastafarians was an interesting situation.
I was wearing my shades. TO them, I wondered, what was I? Was I an imposter? Was I an enemy? Was I the white man who took the red man's land and made the black man slave it with his hand? Was I a mockery of everything they stood for? Was I wearing my shades to hide my prying eyes from their prying questions?
To add a thorn into my side, I hate hogging the mic with my solos. Every single song has one, and our 2nd also and trumpet couldn't make it tonight. I was left with myself, and our less confident first alto. He didn't want to play any of the solos. I had a solo for every song. I didn't want to come off as a ballhog, but I sort of was forced into the possibility.
As we were done, our lead singer's niece said everyone was having fun. We got off the stage, packed up and got ready to run. I wanted to stay, maybe sit down and play with the beatnik drummers and improv a little bit and see what the audience had to say.
We were a hit and run. We were there, and then we were done. Our guitarist had to finish his doctorate dissertation. We had to get back to riverside, and I was the driver. I was forced to leave this new place of beneficial information.
It was an interesting sunday. I haven't decided what yet to think of it. Its just my interpretation.
|Tuesday, October 10th, 2006|
Well, we had an amazing set. Panteon Rococo's booking ticket fliped a 180 and said we weren't performing on that ticket after all. Ahh well. We still tore up the Lion's Gate. The Bums put us on last because it got broken up last time they played and they didn't end up playing.
Didn't get broken up, and we even brought an 18 pack of bud with us. Good times.
Great MICing, and awesome fun. Best performance to date.
Theresa called me at midnight, while we were in the car on the way to baker's.
Before doing that story, I'd like to detour just a little bit.
After Lion's gate:
David and I were in one car, david and enedino were in the other.
They were stopping by Enedino's apartment in order to unlock it for kiko. Marlene was with kiko and edgar.
I pull up to the parking lot, I see Marlene running away, and then I hear enedino talking to her, "Marlene, come back."
I'm totally confused to all hell. So I walk down from the parking lot toward David's car and i see Kiko. "Hey Kiko, is marlene okay?"
he gives me a weird look, then turns around and starts puking on a tree.
Aftermath was that Kiko said he was going to be sick, marlene can't see people being sick or she gets sick herself. Enedino didn't want her running into the ghetto apartments so he was calling her back. Interesting experience.
Its not just my imaganiation. Everyone int he car confirmed. Theresa called me, just started blabbing like crazy, and we all made the shadow puppet with our hands of someone yammering on, while I ehld the phone out to the middle of the car so everyone could hear.
Later, I said, "who wants to talk to Theresa." David (trumpet) and Enedino looked back with funny looks on their faces like, "are you shitting me?" Of COURSE, David Sillas (sax) jumped up on that like it was a pogostick in a toys r' us shopping spree.
He stuttered away some questions and eventuallyg ave the phone back to me.
unbenknownst to me, David (trumpet) somehow managed to get us 30 dollars of food at bakers for 1.70. I'm not divulging the secret, but it worked incredibly.
|Friday, October 6th, 2006|
|This one is to salina:
ya know how i know you'd really like valarie? because she's the only other girl i've been with that uses the term "spotting."
Yeah, last night, she was really modest and shy because she was "spotting." I didn't care. I asked if she'd feel better if I wore a condom. and she said, "Well, I'd feel less embaressed afterword."
Ahhh.. good sex all the same.
I like valarie. I told her at 8:30 that I was running late with our gig and woudln't be to her house in time to watch grey's anatomy, so she recorded it. SHe's a sweetie. I don't know why I don't wnat to have a real relationship with her. ::sigh::.
Aside.. Grey's anatomy tonight was weird.. it started very out of place. i made the observation that the typical "lets get sillly" part of it was not accompanied by "lets get silly." sound track. I figure its because they had a pressured-writers week from the episode success from the week before and they had to rewrite and shoot additional scenes, and then (of course) forgot to write new sound track for it. Only natural I guess.
Why the hell do I notice these things? SHould I be a movie/tv director? Should I be a writer? I don't know, but i don't have the skills required for it. thats for sure. I might have the talent. I might have the talent.
Anyhow. I thoguht that patrick dempsey was a serious dickhead from the get go, and I still think Sandra Oh/Christina Yang is the absolute best charactar the show has to offer, followed by Preston, and then by Kherev (even though he didn't shine so well this last episode).
I liek the show, even though its a soap opera.
anyhow.. thats my story, and i'm sticking to it.
--- I GOT LAID! HAH. -- salina, my heart goes out to you. may the dick sink.. and may it sink deeply.
|Wednesday, October 4th, 2006|
|Salina called it
"She wants you to adore her" i think is what she told me.
So I get a phone call from Theresa at about 2am. I was *just* about asleep, but I chose to speak to her anyway. I spoke to her for about 20 minutes, as I recall.
First, she was whispering like crazy, and I couldn't hear for shit, so I thought it was my phone. I stepped outside. It wasn't my phone. she was whispering. Apparantly she was drunk/buzzed and didn't want her mom to know, so she was keeping her voice quiet so she wouldn't wake her mom and get chewed out.
It ended up being a totally weird conversation that went pretty much nowhere. She kept asking me why I wasn't interested in her. I flipped it back around (see previous journal). "I never said I wasn't interested in you." Apparantly she semi-memorized what I had said to her, "you said did you think I was interested in you." To which I said, "Yeah, you never really answered that. You just said that would explain why I never hit on you.
It was all circular conversation, going back to the roots and causes of things. She saying she can't ever love again, she's broken, etc. I saying, "yeah, that happened to me. I'll never love again. I just fuck."
same dish over and over. She saying that I was the first guy she's been interested in, but she was scared, and that she didn't understand why I wasn't interested - all circular - me saying, that I don't understand what her definitino of interest is, when I was ready to take gambles everywhere they came by saying I'd go on a road trip with her, inviting her places, answering phone calls at 3am, etc.
It was all circular.
Finally she said, "I want to tell you something because I'm buzzed, but I'm afraid to. Its a secret." to which i said, "I've gotta secret, and I ain't gonna tell you! - neener neener neener!"
I hate thinking about shit like this, so i'm not. i'm just recounting, and don't care.
Finally she said she was going to sleep. "why aren't you saying good bye or goodnight?"
"Not going to until you tell me."
"well good night."
"I'm going to hang up now."
|Sunday, September 17th, 2006|
So, theresa calls me today around 9 o'clock and says, "I've got alot on my plate I wanted to get off of it with you."
WHen I answered the phone, I wasn't even that interested in talking to her. Friday after work, I called her asking if she wanted to go to coachella with us. I was tired. I didn't have much to talk about. I didn't feel like I looked very good. She was being really nice to me and what not, asking if I wanted m&ms. when we got to the show, she kept getting me a beer. On the ride home, I had my arm around her for a little bit. Eh.
Before I dropped her off, she was saying she wanted to sabotage Allen and the girl that was with him. She, being best friends with ALlen's not-quite-ever-ex-g/f, doesn't want him to date someone else. (Strike 1).
Jr and Mom (Xenia) met her, and Xenia told me saturday, "Nick, she was cute, but she was a typical girl." YEP. Everyone said she talks too much, too. Sort of reminds me of my mother. (Strike 2?)
When I drove her home in the mroning, she passed out in the car. Whatever, I'm driving all the fuckin' way to FOntana then back to my house. I was fuckin' tired too, but shit. She didn't seem to care. (Strike 3.. Always stay up with your driver. thats courtesy).
So I pretty much had my mind made up that I wasn't going to call her again.
So the question begging to be answered:
What was on her plate?
"I'm still really in love with my ex, and I want to get back together with him."
"But I still want to be friends with you and go to shows with you and have real interesting conversations."
(Kiss of death - I know how to throw this one an excellent hook. HAH!)
"Did you think I was interested in you?"
I'm not gonna call her. Fuck that shit. Too much drama. I smelled ex-b/f syndrom from a mile away.
I'll stick to sticking it to valarie for the time being. Maybe find a beter hyna in the future.
|Friday, September 15th, 2006|
|passing of time.
So Valarie says that she's on the shot. Depo Provera. Whos to say she is or isn't. For some reason, i haven't been using a condom, so she decided she wanted to get on the shot.
She went to planned parenthood. Dude. What the fuck.
I know i'm not going to be with this girl forever, she's alright to hang out with, she hasn't said anything about a relationship.. I dunno. Sometimes I just think about how crazy of a guy I am to do the things that I do.
No, I almost always think abotu how crazy of a guy I am.
I need to figure out what I am doing with my life, already. Sex is just a procrastination tool. Girls, especially. WHy is it girls are always my first choice when it comes to how I will procrastinate?
Fuck. I need to quit drinking and smoking cigarettes too.
It sounds so easy when I say it, but as soon as I get home, and the sun goes down, my body starts yearning for it.