See.
I am starting to believe that fortune really does favor the brave.
(“Now who woulda thunk it!”)
I feel like I have had the caul ripped from my face.Not only can I see (for miles and miles…) with my second-sight and laser realigned hot blue peepers but I can breathe again and its glorious.Maybe its not so much the brave part of the equation just the feckless and fearless bit that I found in the footnote pertaining only to moi.Losing everything that you once held dear has one fantastic advantage.You have nothing left to lose so you throw your hands up and say “Fuck it!”
Fearless and feckless dig?
Which is what these Wednesday nights have become.It has been so long since I have looked forward to anything and its just what I needed ( Side note to my readers of more tender year and/or non well rounded musical tastes,please check out a band called The Cars.Early to mid 80’s new wave.Great tunes,flawless production and a lead singer who looks like an anorexic alien in snazzy shades who married a supermodel,no lie.And yes,there will be a test…Love,Michele’s internal i-pod.xx.)
Got a cool correspondence making me smile with a mate of mine who is out on the road right now.I give great e-mail at four am.He thinks of me like a daughter he says,due to the fact that although I may look like a rock and roll version of Red Sonja I have a hemorrhaging hot pink heart.Its kind of funny,you know,when people remind you if how you appear from the outside.I am aware of it but its been buried for a long time now.My confidence needs training wheels.He said that I look like I chew up men and spit them out only to move onto the the next victim with stunning speed.I laughed my fat butt off.
Then we proceeded to bang on about the Allman Brothers and guitar tone as only two musicians can.My friends are beyond fantastic no matter how far away.
The sexual part of my brain is still broken.I have forgotten how to flirt and that right there is a low down crying shame as I really used to enjoy all that nudge-nudge,wink-wink rubbish.All the cheap thrills without getting ones hands dirty or rubber bits mauled.Suited my Virgo self down to the ground.
All the rock boys that I know never court me.But my gay boys?My lavender infants? They think that I am Judy Garland and the parade all rolled into one.So sweet.So very appreciated.
You have to look at the big picture.CinemaScope.Anyone who gets on stage is an alpha prime in one way or another.We would not be able to do what we do if it wasn’t the case and every alpha boy wants a blank slate of a girl from what I have ascertained studying in the field as I have done for booco moons now.And I am cool with that.Granted,I may never get my fuck on but I am adored for my brain and that means so much more to me.A fuck is fleeting babycakes but a good song ? That lives forever.All the musicians I know are like brothers to me and I have always felt like a well protected and much indulged baby sister.
Its flattering to be seen as anything beautiful at all.The magnificent men in my life have done much to patch up my heart and for that I am wildly thankful.
Now what it comes down to is how I see myself.Slowly emerging from the hiatus that I took on reality and just in a nick of time.( No pun intended ) I get to sing with Steve Lucas from “X” tomorrow night.We have picked out a song and my nerves are on red alert which is a great feeling.I am also doing the duet that I recorded a few months back with Blackie called “Cloud Nine” ( Not to be confused with the awesome track of the same name by The Temptations that is playing in my head right now.) Sound-check will find me up a ladder with my staple gun,swearing and sweating while trying to secure a heap of Chinese lanterns to the ceiling while singing my parts at the top of my formidable lungs,multitasking as always.
Miss Emma leaves for my much missed California on Friday and I am going to miss her so.Back in a few weeks.She bestowed her ticket for Jay and Silent Bob upon me.Who could ask for more?
I really should be asleep.My body clock has gone nuts again.I pass out at midnight then come to punching my way out of weird dreams and a flop sweat round five in the am.Not real happy about that.Then Dumb-ass next door decides to tap dance down the hall just in case I wasn’t already up.I think that he is on his period right now.Redneck boys on the rag ain’t nothin’ but a moving target to me,the twisted little bitches.
I have to keep entering the lottery.Share living? Blurgh.
See y’all at the show.