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12 june 2000
----- No pictures yet ... the past few days it was because I looked like shit, and now, I'm just too friggin' lazy. Band practice tonight ... amid cries of "We're so happy you were able to show up," I put my 72-hour old surgery behind me and trogged through the setlist, singing lead on two tunes and sounding not-that-bad considering I wasn't opening my mouth more than halfway at any given time. If tonight was the gig, no-one in the audience would have noticed I was singing strangely, probably putting my weird mouth movements down to a new stylistic trend or something. The people at rehearsal tonight though, could see (if not hear) that I was straining. And I was in a bit of pain afterwards, most brought on by a vocal-only rehearsal that we did after the set run through -- I never realized how repeating "Bah, Bah, Bah, Bah" over and over again for ten minutes could be so hard on one's jaw. After practice we listened to the new cd, and I felt something strange in my mouth, just floating around like a wayward pit from a long-ago ingested piece of fruit. I managed to spit it out ... a tiny piece of thread, tied in a knot. I recalled a conversation I had with the oral surgeon's office this afternoon... "Oh, one more question, these stitches, are they dissolvable?" "Yes." "How long until they disappear?" "Hold on." A pregnant pause. "About 3-5 days after they're tied, they'll start falling out." So that made sense. My first stitch dissolved and unthreaded itself in the middle of band practice tonight. The second came out on the way home. It's good to have them making a slow exodus from my mouth. They are annoying, and I shall herald the departure of each one. I long to wake up tomorrow morning with a mouth full of spittable thread. Went to Fry's today and treated myself to an el-cheapo Epson color printer, with which I'll produce the covers and inserts for the new cd, which we'll be selling at the gig on Friday. Unfortunately, I never asked if the printer came with a cable, and it doesn't, so it's back to the store tomorrow for a USB print cable. At least I got out of the apartment. And that was an accomplishment in itself. So here I am, alive, well, showered, still in pain but dealing with it (without percocet, I might add), ready to pick up where my life left off on friday, and longing for that not-so-distant day when I can eat some nice-and-solid food again. 12 june 1999: noho : The nerdy idiot with the bad-taste girlfriend was stroking himself in the isolation booth, belting out a completly forgettable melody that sounded like a cross between Ozzy Osbourne and David Bowie, on a really bad day for both of them. 12 june 1998: ask me tomorrow : So now I'm feeling unhealthy and guilty and giddy and I'm just gonna shut down now and stop pretending that I know how to write when I feel like this.
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