Archive for the 'MY MUSIC' Category

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Crow’s Funeral

cropped.We went out on Saturday night to the CD Release party for Mojave’s Crow’s Funeral. It was great that we finally got to see them in concert because other dates hadn’t worked out and we’d been hanging out with Paul keeping him company while LJ was out of town which meant we’d also met Philly the Violin player. Sorry; Paul plays guitar, LJ too and the vocals. But we knew a lot of 140 character things about each other.

guitars.

me, glenn, paul.

Tis one thing to miss a concert of a new friend tis another to miss the CD Release party for the second full album of now official said friend.  As I tell people when they are like as if you have social anxiety if you get me out the door nine times out of ten I’m fine, plus I started to drink beer again, in extreme moderation but that does still give me loose drinking lips, but I’ve never cared much about those, my sober filter is almost as lacking anyway.

I slapped on my new blue dress over my newly not a skinny bitch just a bitch now body and headed out the door in my yellow shoes with my handsome husband.  Cost us all of ten bucks to get in and we bought the new CD which they all signed for us once I removed the 100% biodegradable film; Mojave take their pledge to the Earth extremely serious. It is pretty inspiring and made me all happy to have been wearing shoes made fully of man made materials.

100% Biodegradable Film

i love trees!

two feets.

I guess it goes without saying that Mojave are a local Vancouver band but I will say it anyway, Mojave are a local Vancouver band, and not only is the CD fantastic, not only are they great live, not only was it really cool to see how many of their fans came out for their party it is great that they are all down to earth and cool people.

silly face 2

LJ.

Philly.

LJ & Paul.

Although we are getting better at outdoor photos we still both really suck at indoor photos and there was almost no lighting so for great band photos you want to go to PatZ flickr, these are just silly we’re dicking around although still TRYING to learn how to get this fucking thing to work indoors pictures.

Mojave play next on the 24th of June in Vancouver at The Cellar, and their Crow’s Funeral tour starts near the end of August.

Listen and enjoy a sample of Mojave here
Buy and enjoy the new Mojave CD here
Follow Mojave on Twitter here
Read and subscribe to the Mojave blog here
Enjoy the brand new official Mojave site here

Let’s Get Physical!!!

bodysuit. Around Christmas time I needed some red tights and I went to American Apparel and I had an issue, I came home I mentioned it on the good ol’ Twitter machine and BAM. Emails. I felt so important. They were on it pretty fast.  Problem with the internet is that sometimes things happen too fast and I ended up with two people trying to help me and two different but very tantalizing offers to handle the issues with apologies included of course.  I could have been an asshole and collected off both offers, too bad I’m an honest little member of society and I brought both offers to the attention of the person I deemed by the emails was the higher up of the two and attempted to negotiate.  So I would just like it clear that I did not just nab a free bodysuit, don’t go off yelling foul service GIVE ME A FREE BODY SUIT NOW or anything I used my own math skills and discovered that even though there had a been an error made in two people contacting me being honest about it was cheaper for them because I was all well instead of taking this and this and then taking this percent off of whatever how about I just go with this here bodysuit.

What happened next is what happens to every person who gets a bodysuit; you end up listening to Olivia Newton John and dancing around your apartment to Physical. Oh right I am pretty out of my mind right now and going through a seriously serious family crisis, it’s just me.  So I ended up taking some photos, Adam liked said photos, that was Friday.

Yesterday I ended up playing my Blip.fm list which now contains Physical and decided to do a play by play of how I ended up in the bodysuit the day before. But by this time Adam had put the Physical video on YouTube and I was reminded that there are headbands worn in the original so I made sure to include them in mine as well.

“In the end I was the mean girl”

It was a Wednesday February 5th 2003, I was watching The Bachelor, at 8:15pm she knocked on my door. We lived in the same building and I was dating her husband’s friend and they had just left for the gym. I’m glad that they separated us to tell us but I really thought she was there, with wine in her hand that I could see through the peep hole to toss me from the book club.  When we sat down on my couch, all I remember is that the bachelor was on, and she said ‘PH is dead; he committed suicide they found him up on a road off Cypress with a receipt from The Shoppers on Denman an empty bottle of pills a bottle of alcohol and there was a book in the car, his roommate’s car.’

He always spoke highly of you she said and a bunch of other stuff about how he felt about me I don’t remember but I remember already knowing that he’d felt them for me for real but not real enough I guess.  It only took me six years to feel the betrayal to feel the anger and it is intense beyond anything I thought would come when I thought that sure it would be hard every year but this year it is hell.

N must have come back from the gym but I don’t remember, my next memory is sitting down on the couch at 1066 West Hastings, we always used to laugh that I worked at that address, Pierre-Henri a man from France, knew his history.  I sat there balling my eyes out watching the couriers come in and out of building wondering if they knew, yet.

I got sent home from work that day; I didn’t know I was even crying I was numb.

Between the sexual assault in my own home and PH committing suicide a few months later, something broke in me and I have never been anyone anymore. I’m just out there floating around in a bubble I have only been able to form three healthy attachments one being to my therapist which we discussed and C.J, I don’t remember how long exactly he was here for but we spent almost all of his time here together and he is like the brother I never ever had, he is the only person I have ever met aside from PH that I have not tried to self sabotage the relationship, holy fuck I just realized that right now. The best is he is coming back to Vancouver and soon! Then of course there is Adam with whom I was able to bond with because our pasts are similar and I knew he was the one the very first day I walked past him on Hastings Street.  The very first time I saw him smile.

But the truth today is that I am miserable I don’t care what or how much I have or don’t have I mean if my dad only knew how bad it really is he probably wouldn’t even admit I came from his sperm, cause on top of not working outside the house or at all, not doing the dishes and not cooking I also haven’t cleaned since like before I went to Ontario,  I shower only when absolutely necessary, I’ve let one actual other human in here, when the fuzz on my teeth gets annoying I brush my teeth, I don’t feel like reading, or watching movies, playing video games or going outside so I sit at the computer and  stare at it I read a few but only a few blog posts off my feed because that entails reading I don’t care that I’ve been wearing this Led Zeppelin T-shirt longer than the last one I wore because I can’t even remember what shirt it was, the drugs I’m prescribed, they aren’t working and they are running out and that is a problem. I don’t like this place I’m in and I’m boxed in good and tight. I have rage and hate and little love right now. I still can not let my husband touch me it is has been a long long time now I haven’t even had a real hug from anyone because I can’t have one and I don’t know why he sticks with me I don’t. I want HIM to hold me but then I’d have to feel it. Feel the goodness and the love and I can’t. And when I am not doing that I sit on the couch with the shitty lovers knot quilt staring off into space and smoking joints like I’m stuck in some horrible dream where I will never reach my thirties but it is too late they are already flying by while I’m doing nothing but listening to music and pushing ingrown hairs out of my legs.

*Lyrics Neko Case, Hold on Hold on

Agoraphobic Tendencies

For me it is all about getting myself out that door. Once I open the door, lock it behind me and find myself in the hallway, and my feet are walking down the stairs I know I am 90% there.

I think that of everything that comes with my depression I find the agoraphobia and the social anxiety the most frustrating and the most expensive. It is worth mentioning that I had no problems with agoraphobia or any sort of social anxieties until I was unfortunately sexually assaulted in my own home in May 2002.  From a few days after the attack till this moment that I sit here writing this, anxiety and I co-exist together whether I like it or not.

I was going to Yoga regularly until I went away to Ontario [in October and November] and I haven’t been able to return since I got back. Not without trying mind you.  Shortly after I discovered that I could in fact leave the house at least once a week for something that I fell in love with pretty quickly I informed the instructor of my issues, I didn’t have to tell her about my poor posture that is pretty obvious but I did mention the broken collar bone and subsequent surgery from 1999 and how I blew my I/T band out in 2002 and went on to not only run and train on it but run my first half marathon on it. Stupid right, but so are father / daughter rivalries and had I not finished that race, not that I’m not a failure in his eyes already but at that time there was no way I was going to let him have the satisfaction of my not finishing. And thanks to arrogant ignorance on my part I may never run again.  I never told her the shit about my dad obviously but she started to work with me, made sure I was careful with my shoulders, would remind me when it would be something my core may not like, she was and is a GREAT instructor.  I wanted to go a lot more than I was going so I told her about my leaving the house issues and because she talked of Facebook in class I added her on Facebook.  My goal there was to make myself go.  Because I want to, I want to go every bloody day and there is no reason I shouldn’t but I can’t I can’t get out that door not since I got back.  Even when I try to fool proof my excuses they still win sometimes.  And I know I just have to get back over there one time and I’ll be fine, I’ll start going again.  I am thankful because my classes are already paid for and so she doesn’t have to be supportive but she is.  I write it in my planner every day under 10am. And that is progress because once it starts to go in the planner and I have to actually see that I’m pissing away exercise that I love when I can’t run, it’ll get me out. Let’s aim for Monday.

Tricking myself does sometimes work and Adam also has ways he can get me out but they work maybe 45% of the time, if that.  Normally if I get out, I’m ok, I’ll still act like a semi illiterate mumbling idiot until I feel comfortable around you and then all of a sudden my crazy ass vocabulary comes spilling out and it is like you are talking to a different person.  A very old friend, like sand box days, once told me he loved our conversations because of the words other than FUCK I chose to use in my sentences and to this day it is one of my very favourite compliments ever received.

I am as my very close friends and new friends find out very quickly notorious for canceling.  And trust me when I say I absolutely hate this about myself.  When I say yes to an invite of some kind, or ask someone to meet for coffee or a walk a movie, or buy tickets to something, in that moment and likely till within hours or a day of the time that I am supposed to meet you or a group or go to a concert, it starts.  The internal battle, knowing I will be fine but when I feel ill and am shaking and can’t eat and become over-come with a panic attack it stops me dead.  Most of the time if it is a coffee or walk date I can’t get myself out for it becomes excuse city, I want to get to a place where I can flat out just say “I would not have made this date if I did not intend on coming, I am letting my social anxiety get to me, you are important to me, this is not personal” the only problem with this is that other people’s lives do not run around mine and I don’t like fucking up other people’s days.

I wish I knew the secret formula that gets me out because this isn’t just a problem with friends, with friends it hurts because I stop getting invited to things period and some people who don’t get it or really don’t know me use it as an excuse to drop me, why not though? It is the easy way out.  But I have missed seeing my VERY FAVOURITE artist on EARTH because of this, last time Neko Case was here it was for a two day festival and I only made it to one day.  I could have brought my Neko concert total up to four times but I just could not get myself out the door on the second day.  Also, I bought tickets for Adam’s birthday to The White Stripes one year and I bailed at the VERY last minute.  Still a sore spot with Adam, and I don’t have a problem admitting that because I in no way expect people to accept my agoraphobic issues it is just super awesome when they do.