Monday, May 31, 2010

News (pre pill)

Lapse in posts again. I'm censoring what I say which feels sort of wrong, but I'm intentionally not trying to hurt or say anything hurtful. Plus I was sick. Plus I was busy hehe. Now I'm waiting for pills to kick in which could happen anytime.

Johnny and I had our one year anniversary we went to dinner and had some wine. We are spending a lot of time together. The days sort of drift into each other. I miss him when we're apart. I finally got a parking spot in his garage so I stop getting parking tickets. With that off my mind I worry about other things.

Back up. Johnny had a practice show at the Rondesvouz which was an absolute blast. My new friend Debbie came out and we danced and laughed and drank, and when I left her alone with my other friends she jumped right in and chatted with everyone like a pro while I left her for a few minutes to greet some other friends. I always get concerned about introducing new people because I'm such a butterfly, so if they continue socializing on their own I'm utterly impressed and she impressed me. Johnny sent Amber an email that week basically getting some stuff off of our collective chests about her behavior. I'm sure she took it as daggers, which resulted in her actually being almost friendly to me again. It shocked me. Made my night easier. I hate animosity. Being around her tries on my soul because of what happens and continues to happen. So when she makes an effort I have to reassess everything which I don't mind doing, and better yet would rather do. I don't want to be tied in nots over anything so stupid. If she could treat me well, I would feel less protective of J, and of myself.

I got sick right before. Quite sick. I went to the doctor twice in 2 days. Not sleeping allowed my immune system to run a muck and put me down with a virus. The first sore throat I've had since I was ten. Tried to stay positive through it, and made it to the show even though I felt like dog shit. Had sushi with Maria before and heard her observations of what she's seen so far. It kind of broke my heart, but I needed to hear it.

Then as I logged onto my compter one morning, my good friend from high school Orrin's mom logged on to tell me that Orrin had killed himself. Another friend. 3 now, in such close fashion. I was shocked. I cried a few tears and tried to move on. I didn't want Johnny to see me fall apart. I'm going to his memorial back on the island. God that kid was a card. Smart as a whip and funny as hell. I miss him very much right now. We had some good times.

Anyway, because of the illness I missed one of my band practices which lead to them asking today what was wrong and I decided to flat out tell them about the Lupus and how sometimes I have it under control, and sometimes I don't. We practiced for 5 hours, and I'm starting to feel ready for this huge show on Saturday. And then we're filming a music video on Sunday. I have to get a haircut between now and then, and practice more. I've been dieting and lost 5 lbs. Would be more if I could quit boozing.

I've been trying to write but it's mostly abstract. I'm painting though.

Sometime last week I dropped a glass in a bar. It was at the Hula so everything was cool. I wasn't that drunk yet but my hands had started to shake. And then again yesterday a bottle of wine in the grocer. I felt it slipping and went to recover but was too late. Moments like that scare me. I try and laugh it off but inside I'm thinking about what it means. I'm gunna avoid carrying glass as much as possible.

I was referred to the pulminary clinic on Monday. I guess they want to start treating this thing seriously.

I ache to meet new people. I'm itching to try something new. I want the weather to change so I can be one with my city again. There are other things I want but I believe those should be left for a future entry.

Johnny and I are going shopping tomorrow which makes me happy- it's a day time thing we can do together. Not just go to bars at night, and spend the day in while he plays computer and I entertain myself.

I started reading a book on the ethical dilemmas when it comes to life and the brain. It's pretty good. The other book I'm reading "The End of Suffering" makes me cry. It frustrates me that I understand and accept the book and principals fully but that I've never really met anyone else who has. Maybe Dean. Anyway... I wish compassion was more readily available.

Ok, pills are tugging on me I think. I'll write soon. I'm sure I'll have lots after the weekend.

Saturday, May 22, 2010


Shape of My Heart by Sting lingers in the background as I write this...

It started with spankings. I think I was trying to climb a bookshelf the first time it happened. It startled me. Scared me. It hurt.
Sometime after I did a second transgression and knew it was coming. I tried to outrun my mom crying, but eventually she caught up to me. That trapped feeling I'll never forget.
Years later when she couldn't spank me anymore she would scream literally centimeters from my face which left my ears ringing. She'd ask me why I'd done something and because, I could never give the right answers I began to say I don't know, hoping that would solve the problem and I could go back to hiding in my rooom. But somehow this seemed to make her more angry so she'd shove me into walls. Sometimes she'd raise her hand to hit me and wouldn't. Other times she'd think better of it and would. Sometimes I'd taunt her to do it. I don't know why exactly. When I ran away from home at 16 that was her breaking point. She let me live with Dad. I've never told anyone this- but there was a time Dad did too. But he felt terrible about it. Apologized and cried to me. It was easy to forgive a one time thing. Mom denies any of these things ever happened. I don't expect I'll ever hear a sorry from her. I never had the answers, when it came to calming myself because what I sought was human affection. I couldn't get it from the person who had just lashed out at me. The other 2 members of the family stayed out of it. So someday when I was 12 the self injury began. Sometimes it was so bad you couldn't see skin between my wrists and elbow. I would cut, on top of other cuts. This was my go to since, there was no on else.

Anyway, it changed me. The way I fight with people. I have never hit another person. I've never gotten close to that point. Sometimes I raise my voice, but I've never broken anything in anger either. I've read about bpd people and the way that they fight with others. I really don't see me doing that stuff. I try hard to understand and modify behaviors so I can get along with others. I hate conflict. It's terrible. I avoid it even at times when I should stick up for myself.

I've only ever had one guy get physical with me, and I ended the relationship then.

When I fight with someone I try to hold their hands and speak in a calm tone. I try to actively listen and find a solution. I'm guilty of not being able to do it every time. The point of this being I really try and show people I care even if we're disagreeing on something. I realize most people want to not be touched when they're angry, but some of the people I know and love have come to accept this about me. I never name call. Sometimes I want to say things like "you're being selfish" or "you're acting like a child" but I never do.
There is no time I feel more distant from someone than when we're fighting and I can't fix it, or do something about it. It means they're mad at me. That I did something wrong. And my brain automatically triggers back to the old escape routes to when I was young. Ones I've worked VERY hard on to change. To be less ill in that sense.

I'm exhausted. My brain hates it when I do this, but sometimes I have to just write through it. I was talking to a friend, Carl, who knew me fairly well through middle school. Apparently none of the kids wanted to come over because of the way my Mom treated me. It made them uncomfortable. I had fewer friends, because of what was going on at home. The irony of this is I NEEDED friends because of what was going on at home. My mom asked me once if I had a happy childhood. I nodded and looked the other way. Saying no would have been cruel.

I wonder what other people would have done in that situation? How they would have been able to calm themselves down? I sincerely believe my insomnia started because I would lay awake until I was sure mom had gone to bed, because often times if I'd fall asleep she'd wake me up because something hadn't been cleaned properly. She'd flip the lights on and grab my arm and yank. And no matter how I protested, or begged to do it in the morning, it had to be done that second. So I stopped sleeping. Laying really still, barely breathing waiting for her to come and get me again. I really do wonder if it is residual of that? I think it's physical too, in fact, told it is. But I remember those nights well.

Tired brain. Nap perhaps. Needed to write though, catch up on all your blogs when I wake. Thanks for listening.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Just a Phase?

I'm alive. Uninspired lately. I bet tonight that I could take the whole bottle I have left of Lunesta and still stay awake. My eyes hurt. I can't keep them open for long, but my brain still races on repeating song lyrics, going over conversations, wondering about my realtionship. Sometimes I think about my past and get caught in that cycle, which puts me in a dark place.

But J and I went to the pet store today to look at guinea pigs, and to get bathing wipes for his cat. Then I played Civ 4 all day.

I hung out with Annie on Tuesday before I came here and I realize I kinda miss calling up someone at the last second and heading to a bar with your crew, being silly. I get to do my karaoke wednesday thing, but it's planned. I love the people who go, but they aren't the kind of people I can call up last second and go anywhere with. Or like... Just heading to the merc by myself on Fridays, knowing I'd see that crowd there. I'd love if Johnny came, but it's not really his scene.
People have grown up in ways. I have to hang out with someone and their sig other, and that started with Bevin. We're not as close anymore because Josh became her best friend. That's the way it should be, but I miss her. (I'm guilty. I drag J everywhere. I want everyone to love him as much as I do. He's great.)

And now my friends are having kids and that basically ends the friendship. I can't keep the hours they do, so hanging out is fucking difficult for me. There is at the very least a roll party in the works in the near future, and I can't tell you how needed that is. I hate that I'm so jaded right now. Walls are up. I need to reconnect with that inner part of me to hash it out. I don't want this to harden me. I don't want to not trust people for ever. I hope this is just a phase I'm going through.
Speaking of the kid thing- a noticable fact- my childhood friend Libby is pregnant, and is going in to be induced tomorrow, as is a different friend Ben. His wife Lisa is as well. It gives me a weird feeling inside because this is about the time I would have to, if circumstances had been different. Not that it's regret, it's not. But it def stirs up some PTSD stuff for me. I guess I'm opting to live the way I want.

Anyway, I need to roll. Recenter. Love myself again, and reconnect with that part of me. It's a spiritual experience. Ethelia and I connect best on it as well. It lets me know more about my life path. She's wise, you know? She knows the plan and what's best for me.

I'm gunna try and sleep. My room mate post got deleted so I guess I'll rewrite that next. Love to you all. Stay strong.

Monday, May 17, 2010



You say you feel a chill in the season
Like something is falling apart
You say you can't hold it together much longer
And I should look after your heart

But I feel a change coming on
Rolling out of the blue like a storm
And it's bending your will like a willow tree twisting
Trying to regain its form

How does it make you feel
When you remember the times the two us lay here
In the arms of the world on the doorstep of heaven shining down

Do you feel a change coming on,
Rolling out of the blue like a storm,
And it's throwing your dollhouse world in disarray
So you can rebuild or conform

How I wish you'd only see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true
before it can leave you
I wish that you could see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true all around you

My worth is the look in your eyes
My prize the smile playing tricks on your lips and I wonder again
Do you ever dream of the world like I do

I too fear the change coming on
Rolling out of the blue like a storm
Can you hear it *scream* at the hurt that I knew

How I wish you'd only see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true
before it can leave you
I wish that you could see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true all around you

What is this chill at my heel
That makes the protections I've built around my pseudo world premiere
Tearing my utopian fiction apart as it happens to just pass along

I feel a change coming on
Rolling out of the blue like a storm
Crashing against my delirious thoughts where humanity's waiting alone

How I wish you'd only see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true
before it can leave you
I wish that you could see
How your own choices make your dream
Come out shining true all around you

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Blank Page

This isn't attention seeking or anything but From 6am to now I have taken probably 10sleeping pills and, as you can see, they aren't doing shit. But I feel weird. And every single fucking muscle aches today.
Just in case the weird feeling turns out to be something, or the pills all kick in at once I wasn't trying to off myself. Just trying to sleep. I'm pretty sure it's not fatal, as I've done it before. But JIC, accident. I'll write again when I wake up. Hopefully I just get a really nice long nap. Hibernation. Would be lovely to wake up and greet the stars later.

I love my Johnny...

(un)merry birthday

This week was my birthday week. Wednesday, I turned 26. Before that was Mother's day. The first one I struggled through to be honest. I felt curiosity and guilt. Lots of emotions I'd never felt before when it came to the consideration of the day. I was born on Mother's day. A day I would bet my mother rued, and celebrated depending on her feeling. I sort of felt angry as to why no one ever thanked me for the pain and shit I went through to get rid of their child. The mistake that lasted 5minutes for them, and the rest of my life.
There was never a choice for me- and never will be. But I feel there has never been understanding when it comes to exactly what I went through, or the sacrifice of my sanity when it came to that situation. I remember hearing the whispers of "murderer" and the sad looks they gave me on the way in my nightmares. The fact I repeated the act (and will if I absolutely have to) is probably unforgivable. So... Mothers day. It's just another day. A day I was born on. A day that reminds me in screams and whispers I'm an undesirable in Christianity. Yet, I take true solace in what I believe. The words I've read based on people in scientific controlled enviornments and under hypnosis. The words that say there is no soul in such creatures, because they know better than to inhabit a body that isn't meant to live. Perhaps this sounds crazy- but I can't imagine it's any crazier than things in the bible, and my shit ideas are based on stuff that has proof.

So Wednesday rolled around, and I dreaded it because on Monday Dad said we were gunna talk about the tickets. So we did. And I felt bad. And I had nothing to offer him. No quick fixes. Nada. Instead I just told him we could try a parking garage or something. Dad asked if J would come to my place more. I told him I'd ask, but I doubted it. On every other Wednesday I have a karaoke date with some friends I met through Johnny and I, so we planned to meet them as usual. Before we could get there though my mom called and asked about a thoughtless comment my half brother had posted to my facebook. She thought I had provoked it, which I hadn't. So... We also fought that evening. I finally realized that the thing Russell Brand says about how we're implied promised happiness on holidays which doesn't always happen, is completely true. It was a shit day. In the middle of a shit week. The evening went shitty even after karaoke because then Johnny and I fought too, capping it off.

The next night Amber said something ambiguously attacking on facebook which prompted Johnny to say something to her. But after being without him for awhile I encouraged him to come sit with me and pay attention to me. That sparked the next argument. I was proud of him for saying something but in the ether somehow the signals got crossed and this wasn't portrayed enough. What I meant to say didn't come out properly at all. I felt completely defeated and worn down. After so long on this, after over a year dealing with her talking down to me, building up fences, pretending to be my friend, I think in the moment I was frustrated and took it out on Johnny. I wanted his attention, and knowing Amber will never change what she does or says, I just wanted Johnny to come sit with me.

Tonight was my birthday party, and it started off pretty shitty as well. My room mate Lauren who had promised to come, threw a barbecue at the last second and decided not to come out. I felt pretty betrayed by this, as I have mentioned before I felt closer to her and Greta then any of my of the girls. So, throwing an event even though she knew about my bday well in advance felt kind of... icky. Then my room mate Missy who I also invited, asked me not for a ride to my party, but to a completely different bar to go do coke with her friends. I declined. She then asked me for my pipe to do some green. I gave it to her feeling like a fucking door mat. I went to the bar by myself hoping to just get a table and maybe meet some new people or something while I waited for everyone else to get there, but Johnny and his band got there about the same time I did. We were alone the four of us for a long while. But eventually people started trickling in to my party, and slowly my confidence and happiness came back. When I realized how many people actaully came out for me and cared for me I was overwhelmed at one point. We again, practically had all the tables covered on one side of the bar. Johnny warned me to watch my drinks, so I ordered some bomb mac and cheese, and continued to drink and be social. As the night progressed I realized Johnny was pretty drunk. "Promise me you won't pass out on the floor tonight" I asked. He promised.

A lot of shit happened between that point and where I am now. Writing from my front lawn, looking at the stars, wondering what they have in store for me. I'm not crying anymore thankfully. You really can't make rash decisions when people are wasted. Johnny, or I.
He has told me before he hates the way he is portrayed in this blog. He has told me that this blog may be the reason he eventually ends things with me. He has told me all of the readers judge him in an unfair way. To this, I have not gone into detail as of late, what has transpired between us. The arguments in this blog I have only copped to my wrong doing, and left out the rest from what I gather. I am far from being perfect. I am 50% of everything that goes wrong between us. I fucking hate myself, for the same scraps of moments I like myself.
I will say this in my defense: I have tried to be the best damn girlfriend I have known how to be. I have gone at his place 98% of the time. I have received over 50 parking tickets just to be around him. I have payed for things when I could (though he wins this by far- I don't have much) and I have let him have the exact kind of relationship he has wanted as far as I know. If he can't love me back, he just can't. I can not fault him for that.
This is the first birthday I've ended up alone at, at the end of the night in at least 6 years. Not sexually or anything. Just sleeping in my rooom alone. It's fucking lonely. I hope Johnny texts me tomorrow and we can work through the truth of his drunk mind versus his sober mind. Where ever that leaves us.
I own up to my wrong doings. I am sorry for them. I know I'm viewed as: demanding, incaple of being made happy, waering masks, argumentative, irritating, a lush, without a spine, and a sorted arrangement of other colorful words. These things do not outweigh the good I have in me, but that's another blog. One I don't have in me to write tonight. One when my self esteem has returned and I don't feel like ripping my own heart out.
But my heart is on the floor for you, all of you. All I can do is pray to sleep for some relief and clarity. I won't do 26 again. 360 odd days and counting. At least the middle was good. I'm gunna cling to that- or at least try- when I wake up alone in the morning.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Last show, other crap

I've dragged my brand new laptop upstairs while I make pasta. Yes, it's 3am; no I don't care. I'm hungry now, and because I'm STILL out of pills, my schedule is insane right now. I went to bed at 6:30am this morning. Was up again at ten, and finally got some real deep sleep around 4-6pm. Now I don't know when I'll get to sleep again. These days are hell week. Agony for me. The times I'm chancing things. Because if I can't sleep after so long, I'm told to go to the hospital for a sedative.

I've been so fucking bored today. I can't leave my computer though. So I'm still glued to "This American Life" and playing games online. Fucking around on facebook. Bored.
I don't know why. I could've gone for a walk. Painted. Written. Read. I look back on this day and I feel sorta disappointed in myself. My eyes hurt. I think it's the novelty of the new toy. A computer that fucking works. I don't want to take it for granted, as I feel about everything good in my life. Oh yeah, and I got in trouble this morning about my cell phone bill. Apparently the games I downloaded were an extra 40 bucks. Whoops. Wish I had 2 more shows on the horizon. I'd just pay Dad back already. I owe him A LOT of money at this point. Unfortunately. My pay check has long since stopped covering the parking tickets I get in Seattle. It's funny, I'd never had one til the last year. Now I have fucking 50 or something. Maybe more. I'm not proud of it. Quite the opposite. I'm constantly worried now about them towing the car away. The only solution is to look into the bus schedule, but if I miss it because I'm too tired or not feeling well, then that's not a good situation.

Anyway, I'm home now. I'm listening to Lauren and Ben talk and giggle and record music in the next room. They're getting along, and I believe it's the first time I've heard, or seen it. Makes me miss my boyfriend. One afternoon in particular comes to mind. I got there late afternoon and we had sex fairly early on. We laid around giggling for awhile afterwards til we got up to go see the movie Borat. That was a good day.

The show Flash Suppressor had on Saturday was strange. Johnny came with me to this show and that always makes it better. I had some other friends promise they'd come, but none did, making the fact Johnny was there all that much better. We arrived at the Tiger Lounge and it's a club that used to be a house. Really. There is a tiny stage in the living room. The kitchen is the bar, and there's a room in the basement that's been transformed into ancient pinball heaven. Heard the first band play. They weren't bad. But they were a Christian band. We got the sweet spot: Second. We had the largest crowd. But, technically speaking my band brought out the most people. During the first band some skinny girl with 2 black pigtails got on stage with the band and head thrashed for a minute. I looked at Johnny. We were both making the same expression that seemed to say "are you seeing this?" We both deduced right away she was fucking crazy. Not in a cute way. In a way I was seriously trying to asses which mental illness she had. So of course, during our set she returned to the living room. Only this time she was in a bra with tassels. They swung around and rubbed on me during our cover of a Black Sabbath song. I graciously danced with her, and tried to encourage her enthusiasm while inside almost pitying her desperate cries for attention. She def had daddy issues.
Afterwards I spent a good 45 minutes talking to various people about the band and show. It was the most compliments I've ever received in one place I think. I felt bad leaving J for that long, but at the same time loved having people ask questions and give praise. We retreated to the pinball room as the third band took the stage, because they were FUCKING LOUD. And not terribly good.

Brian, Johnny's drummer showed up then. So we hung out and talked with him for awhile. Meanwhile Johnny and I are still drinking, and I get into an in depth conversation with the guitarist from another band, and the bar owner who offers us a gig there any night, and promises to pay us very well. Eventually the last band took the stage and with Johnny just a little drunk he put his hands on my hips as I stood in front of him and I stayed there for as long as I could. We conversed a little about the band, really enthusiastic about them. They weren't really his style, so I questioned whether he'd feel the same the next day. I thought they were alright. Very angry band though, and just a tad cheesy. The night overall, was fun and worth it. I dreaded Sunday coming, as I always do. It leads me to the days I don't have him. The days I'm bored, always broke, and chancing a fight with the roomies over the noise level.
Turns out Johnny and I would disagree on Sunday. But I don't believe it was a fight. He was in an irritated mood, and I picked the wrong time to bring up a question I'd been wondering about. What I should have done was just gone home and forgotten it. It sucks though, because I'd really enjoyed sitting in the nook where his bedroom is, while he played games in the front room. I came home to my cold room and crawled under the sheets. I waited for the tears to come when I finally found the comfort of my bed, but I didn't cry. Instead I turned on my radio, folded up my air mattress, hung my show posters, and did some laundry. My head ached from 3am on, knowing my body was starting to crave the sleep it wouldn't see much of. I took a codeine and that only made my head ache more. I'd only eaten 2 eggs that day, around 9pm. I should just avoid the pain pills when I don't eat. It's a fucking waste. It makes my head hurt so much, I never notice if my limbs and back have stopped aching.

I wish there was someone I could talk to about all this. But... there's no one to call anymore. I automatically turn to my blog and hope it just sort of sets my thoughts out straight. I have no desire to tell a fellow psych student Chelsea about anything, because she's judgmental. Summer doesn't listen very well. I'd never burden Greta or tread on that. Lauren's working through her own shit. I've emotionally isolated all of the guys that were in my life. Even Wayne, who I would normally tell anything to. Our conversations consist of nothing personal now. I only speak to him once every 2 weeks, if that. It's always on messenger for a moment, then it's over. His band has been dismantled. He still hates his job. Besides adopting 2 ducks, he has Daisy and Joey still, 2 of my fav pups in the world. I worry about his depression. My friend Cary said to me "you're gregarious with people who wear masks" the other day. Wayne wears one more than anyone I know, but that got me thinking.
Johnny thinks I show him more of the less good stuff than other people.
I can only ponder this and conclude it's because he's the last person I trust. I let him see the real stuff. Not the usual optimistic posts to facebook, or whatever else. I mean, I feel whatever it is I'm saying I feel. But there's always turmoil underneath. I'm worrying about the car. My Dad. Our relationship. My band stuff. I worry about what my life is going to be like when my parents are gone. If I'll go before them. There's almost a comfort in that though again, because then I'm not a burden anymore. I didn't chose to be born. I didn't chose this life. I didn't chose my brain. I way didn't chose this body. I wonder if I can't find a way to supplement my income, how that's going to affect everything. I know there's a substantial inheritence I'm supposed to get someday, but the only way I'll ever live comfortably is when my grandparents go, and then there's guilt attached to that. Loads of it. I wonder if I'll be homeless again, hungry. Struggling the way I did 6 years ago. And the again 3 years ago.
I have had a small taste of that the last 2 weeks. Running out of pills and money on the card. It makes me uncomfortable. The only difference is the 80 I get a week to fill in the spaces. That has made all the difference. I can make the 80 stretch when I have to. But being social is always a priority. I know my Dad feels terrible about that time in my life. Had he known exactly how bad it was, and I had told him straight up I'm sure he would have tried to help. But I'd argue with mom, and leave empty handed. It just wasn't fucking worth it. I didn't physically have it in me, and emotionally didn't have it when it came to my mother. So... I starved. And hid in the studio apartment. And died a little inside everyday.
I wonder what people feel when they read shit like that. I feel numb. And I don't want to go back.

The difference is night and day. Now I'm home in my fav city, playing in 2 bands a dream come true, discussing a tour another dream come true, dating someone who fucking answers my texts and I don't worry about dissappearing on me or cheating on me, I karaoke when I want to, and I've recorded an EP. I'm more stable mentally (even though I still have bad days. Everyone does.) and I don't ever get the feeling that washes over me anymore that I've lost myself completely. I eat now, and still pray someday I'll be able to sleep when I want to. I have my car and that's akin to freedom for me. Now with my new computer I can listen to Pandora whenever I desire, and of course, This American Life. I don't hurt myself anymore. I've more or less quit smoking, and the only drugs I take currently are prescribed. That is about a million fucking years away from where I was anytime in my life prior to moving back here. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me. People say you can't run from your problems, but I did. And I got better. So neener neener.

Anyway, this post is ridiculous. It's a bipolar post and I apologize. I'm not really feeling anything other than frustrated with my brain, and the birds outside now chirping away since it's 5:30 am. I'm gunna listen to NPR and not sleep. I have clean sheets and a purple raccoon to cuddle with. So I'm gunna do that.

Saturday, May 1, 2010


Lat night was a double header here in old Seattle. My bassist Josh scored a show with us at Flights Pub, right before Peratus had a show at Tony V's. Got there early last night for a change (I'm late everywhere. It's a curse. When I adopted the name "kate" so "late" came with it.)Polecat, the sound guy, couldn't get the show up and running on time, so we didn't actually take the stage til 9:15. I was upset by this a little, as Flash is known for being easy to work with and PUNCTUAL. (Hey, if we can keep that reputation, I don't mind. I'll never have it in my personal life haha.)
So we finally started running and there were sound balance problems. So between songs to kill time while Polecat did whatever he does (stoned, btw) I got the bar to sing happy birthday to my bassist Josh. He turned 30 last night.
As I'm trying to sing and play at the same time, the mic isn't in the right place. So I can basically play like a retarded monkey and not look at the keys ever, and still be able to sing, or I can play like the devil and nobody will hear a word. I opted to sing, and hoped the band would cover any missed piano that was happening. Besides, even though I had told Polecat twice the levels to my keys was WAY down, and I couldn't hear them, I had to get to the last song for everything to blend. We ran over on time cuz we started late, so I went into the bathroom and changed into my new corsette. Finished my glass of wine, and drove the rest of the way to where Peratus was playing.
When I got there Peratus was already playing their first song, and I was so excited to hear them. When I got to the bar, the door man asked me for the cover. "Actually I'm in Peratus" I said. "I'm their new keyboardist." The guy looked at my cock eyed for a second, but let me in without paying the cover. I ran over to Sev's roommates and car mates (He's the lead singer) and they welcomed me with big hugs. They introduced me to the girls they were with and then I danced with one of them. (Like do-si-do. Haven't done that in ages!) Meanwhile I'm still sticking to the wine for the evening. When they got offstage I helped carrry equipment out, and they w+ere super fast at tear down! Afterwards I spent a lot of time hanging with the band. I got introduced many times over to everybody who had come out as the keyboardist. I kept saying what an honor it was to even be asked to play with them, and how excited I was. As I stood around with the boys, they included me in every conversation. They gave me affectionate rubs on the head and joked with me. I felt this warm feeling wash over me. Like, I belonged there. With them. Like, they'd protect me. I was part of the band, which in turn made me part of the car club, and I would be a friend. I wasn't sure how to take it exactly, but I was so grateful. So I stayed til the last second eating it up. That feeling of belonging. Then I headed back to Josh's birthday party.

I didn't stay long. I wanted to get back to Seattle, and back to Johnny. He hadn't come to the shows because of practice. I drove back to Seattle, antsy. When I arrived with a bottle of wine, he hardly had me in the door before he started undoing my corsette. It made me feel sexy, and desired, and happy. I hadn't seen him do that in awhile. After the shaky start, and strong finish to the evening, I was very pleased with this. I laid around this morning for awhile touching his skin, when he woke me up to get a blanket. I was incredibly surprised at how unhungover I was. Then I remember I'd drank half a carton of milk, and a whole large bottle of applejuice the day before. I'd saved myself from the dehydration. I watch him as he sleeps and just think to myself 'I'm so damn lucky.' He is amazing on so many levels. Why he lets me stay here, I don't know, but I'm so grateful and happy for it.

Perhaps I'll return to his side now and try to sleep again. I've taken half a sleeping aid, and I'm hoping it does the trick til my Rx is renued in 4 days. Love to you all. I'm really feeling it this morning. :)