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20 july 2000
----- A single message on my answering machine tonight ... "Hi, it's me. Just wanted to say I was thinking about you. Call me. Love you. Bye." A misdialed number, of course. She sounded incredibly cute. If it wasn't midnight, and if I wasn't such a wimp, I might have gone the *69 route just to see where it would have taken me. I really miss getting messages like that, albeit from someone who is actually _meaning_ to dial my number before she says that stuff. (at the same time, I kinda hope the guy (or girl) who was supposed to get the message doesn't get into trouble over this whole thing) But I shall not sit here and feel sorry for myself over the state of my life. That was last night. Speaking of which... Last night's reheated pepperoni pizza led to this morning's heartburn. Oof, 'twas not a pleasant wake-up call. I almost stopped at 7-11 for some Tums or Rolaids or whatever people take for heartburn. I must be getting old. ~~~ Sari linked me today, concurrent with a really nice redesign on her part, and I watched my site traffic double for a brief shining moment, nearly approaching the hits I used to generate in the "a.cappella" days, when my life was a "train wreck," as Sari would put it. I've been reading her journal, and I'm just about hooked. Her life is so easy for me to identify with, the emotions so real ... to the point where even her daughters have me smiling. Hitslutting again, worrying about site traffic, that's me. If only I could apply that philosophy to my sex life, my wrist wouldn't be so damned tired all the time... ... from playing my organ, of course. Speaking of which ... Final band practice tonight before the festival gig on Saturday. We ran through the thirty-minute set twice, and I worked up a pretty good sweat. The whole band seemed to be of a singular mind tonight, pretending we were actually on stage, as opposed to just going through the motions. The resultant energy level was intense. Looking through the window, I saw people dancing at the car wash next door. We're slowly but surely approaching "kick-ass" status, even in my overly-critical opinion. Stopped at Burger King on the way home, and cruised past the festival grounds in Santa Monica, just to scope out the venue like the geek I am. The stage was up, and I spied it from a number of angles in between chomps on my half-wrapped Whopper. The stage is rather large, positioned diagonally from the corner of 4th Street and Pico Boulevard. This is going to be our biggest gig. Taylor Dayne and Berlin are also performing. Berlin ... I remember that song "Take My Breath Away" -- visions of Tom Cruise with Kelly McGillis on the back of his motorcycle. I wonder if we'll meet Berlin ... I wouldn't know what to say ... except "Um, gee, so whaddya been doin' for the past fifteen years? -- Oh no, that's not to say ... but I really loved "Take My Breath Away" -- um, can you help me with my foot? I'm about to swallow my pinky toe." Nah, I really don't want to meet the band Berlin. Now Taylor Dayne on the other hand.... What was that big song of hers? I'd rather our band be a complete failure than a one-hit wonder. I wonder how the 12,000 people will like us on saturday... And now I've got that Berlin song in my head. "Watching every motion in my foolish lover's game. On this endless ocean finally lovers know no shame. Turning and returning to some secret place inside. Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say: Take my breath away." Should I be more surprised that I remember those words, or that I actually bothered to type them out here? The sick thing is, I could go on.... "Watching I keep waiting, still anticipating..." But I won't. "Through the hourglass I saw you. In time you slipped away." OK, I mean it this time. Shit, that last lyric made me think of my ex... Bring back the 80s. I miss my innocence. ~~~ I feel good tonight. Relaxed and content. The three-quarter moon is low over the bay, and it looks like a giant rotten potato. Kind of a pockmarked brown. And the airplanes are headed right toward it, lined up to land on parallel runways at LAX. Little ants slowly crawling towards the giant potato. Delirious, I am. I think I should sleep.
In the forum: 20 july 1999: : didn't write 20 july 1998: half note : I guess I'm not really looking to get laid. Or maybe it needs to be the right person, or for the right reasons ... All I know is that if I had stayed there that night, I'd be looking back upon it now as a mistake.
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