Kelly's quote of today...
"That John Kerry. Apparently he got one purple heart for a hangnail, one for a stubbed toe, and the other for... a yeast infection or something..."
Monday, April 26, 2004
Monday, April 19, 2004
Is this God's plan?
Here's an updated photo of the black eye, the next day, in all it's purple glory. As you can see, I've worn a shirt and selected a background to set off the lovely violet tones:
Everyone take a really good look at it, because this black eye is a metaphor for my pathetic music career. Needless to say NYC was a horrible experience. I was invited to play for this ongoing event, a series that showcases GLBT performers. When you play a show in NYC you're supposed to bring a certain number of people to the venue. I told the guy who asked me to play that I have no audience in NYC, and couldn't guarantee that anybody would come to see me. He said, that's okay, it doesn't matter. Just come we'd love to have you. So I did.
Well, nobody came to see me except the 2 friends who housed me. So I was told that since I didn't bring anyone in, I don't get any money from the door. And there ya have it. And I sold one CD. And I'm not gonna rant too much about this part, because you can look back two posts ago and see that I expected nothing else. So that's what I got. Well, I expected to lose money, but I did think I would get a little something at the door, and that I'd sell a few more CDs. But whatever, no rant here.
Here's what I will rant about. The first two acts were so abominable, so horrific, so bad, that using the term "mediocre" would be overstating it. The first group was so bad and hostile that when they were done I was literally sick to my stomach. The second act was so boring and white he made Pat Boone look like Elvis. Then it was my turn, but by then the audience that was there had already left, because these two groups had set the standard for the evening. On top of that, even though I was a performer, I had to pay full price for a beer, which was 6 bucks for a warm, skunky Corona.
So when I was talking to the dude who invited me to perform, and he was apologizing about not being able to give me any money, he said "Well, I hope you at least got something out of it." I looked at him, and in a split second thought, I said, "Yes, as a matter of fact I did."
Here's what I got out of it:
1) I will never again play in NYC. Not without a guarantee.
2) I will never again play on bills with bad performers.
3) I will never again play a free gig, unless I'm opening for some big huge act, or the experience is too fabulous an opportunity to pass up.
4) I'm changing my approach to this whole thing. I'm going to start thinking big.
So, fuck those fucking fuckers. I can't do this anymore. I too frickin' old, broke, and tired.
And now the bright side, because all you bitches out there keep asking me to find the bright side to every miserable experience I have:
1) I got to see my friends.
2) I got to go to the Cold Stone Creamery, an amazing ice cream parlor, the details of which will be posted at Tasted Like Ice Cream in a few days.
3) I got to see, for free, one of the most innovative and unique theater shows ever, De La Guarda. It would take me pages to describe this show, so check out their equally amazing website. I'll just say this: Most of the action takes place with the cast members wearing harnesses and flying through the air on riggings. There's also alot of water pouring down, and other stuff like confetti and balloons. That's why they call it "Theater That Falls From The Sky". And there are no seats. Everyone stands on a floor, like the floor of a rock concert, and all the action takes place overhead. It's amazing. Probably even more amazing if you're tripping on acid. Which I wasn't.
Here's an updated photo of the black eye, the next day, in all it's purple glory. As you can see, I've worn a shirt and selected a background to set off the lovely violet tones:
Everyone take a really good look at it, because this black eye is a metaphor for my pathetic music career. Needless to say NYC was a horrible experience. I was invited to play for this ongoing event, a series that showcases GLBT performers. When you play a show in NYC you're supposed to bring a certain number of people to the venue. I told the guy who asked me to play that I have no audience in NYC, and couldn't guarantee that anybody would come to see me. He said, that's okay, it doesn't matter. Just come we'd love to have you. So I did.
Well, nobody came to see me except the 2 friends who housed me. So I was told that since I didn't bring anyone in, I don't get any money from the door. And there ya have it. And I sold one CD. And I'm not gonna rant too much about this part, because you can look back two posts ago and see that I expected nothing else. So that's what I got. Well, I expected to lose money, but I did think I would get a little something at the door, and that I'd sell a few more CDs. But whatever, no rant here.
Here's what I will rant about. The first two acts were so abominable, so horrific, so bad, that using the term "mediocre" would be overstating it. The first group was so bad and hostile that when they were done I was literally sick to my stomach. The second act was so boring and white he made Pat Boone look like Elvis. Then it was my turn, but by then the audience that was there had already left, because these two groups had set the standard for the evening. On top of that, even though I was a performer, I had to pay full price for a beer, which was 6 bucks for a warm, skunky Corona.
So when I was talking to the dude who invited me to perform, and he was apologizing about not being able to give me any money, he said "Well, I hope you at least got something out of it." I looked at him, and in a split second thought, I said, "Yes, as a matter of fact I did."
Here's what I got out of it:
1) I will never again play in NYC. Not without a guarantee.
2) I will never again play on bills with bad performers.
3) I will never again play a free gig, unless I'm opening for some big huge act, or the experience is too fabulous an opportunity to pass up.
4) I'm changing my approach to this whole thing. I'm going to start thinking big.
So, fuck those fucking fuckers. I can't do this anymore. I too frickin' old, broke, and tired.
And now the bright side, because all you bitches out there keep asking me to find the bright side to every miserable experience I have:
1) I got to see my friends.
2) I got to go to the Cold Stone Creamery, an amazing ice cream parlor, the details of which will be posted at Tasted Like Ice Cream in a few days.
3) I got to see, for free, one of the most innovative and unique theater shows ever, De La Guarda. It would take me pages to describe this show, so check out their equally amazing website. I'll just say this: Most of the action takes place with the cast members wearing harnesses and flying through the air on riggings. There's also alot of water pouring down, and other stuff like confetti and balloons. That's why they call it "Theater That Falls From The Sky". And there are no seats. Everyone stands on a floor, like the floor of a rock concert, and all the action takes place overhead. It's amazing. Probably even more amazing if you're tripping on acid. Which I wasn't.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Let it shiner, let it shiner, let it shiner!!!
I fancy myself well-rounded: a little femme, a little butch. One day I'll fix my mom's dryer, the next day I'll be hemming Kelly's jeans. I own power tools, a complete set of metric and standard tools of all sorts, and a sewing machine. I can fix a motorcyle or car if I have to. I've even changed a tire. In heels.
So chalk it up to lack of coordination, common sense not to get out of my own way, or a car too ghetto for my own good. Because I was trying to unlock the passenger car door today. It's all frozen or rusted up, and the lock is stuck. So I grabbed a vice grip, latched onto the lock and pulled with aaaaall my might. The grips gave way and flew back smack dab into my face.
And now I look like this:
cut on the nose, shiner, cut in eyebrow
I fancy myself well-rounded: a little femme, a little butch. One day I'll fix my mom's dryer, the next day I'll be hemming Kelly's jeans. I own power tools, a complete set of metric and standard tools of all sorts, and a sewing machine. I can fix a motorcyle or car if I have to. I've even changed a tire. In heels.
So chalk it up to lack of coordination, common sense not to get out of my own way, or a car too ghetto for my own good. Because I was trying to unlock the passenger car door today. It's all frozen or rusted up, and the lock is stuck. So I grabbed a vice grip, latched onto the lock and pulled with aaaaall my might. The grips gave way and flew back smack dab into my face.
And now I look like this:
cut on the nose, shiner, cut in eyebrow
Jesus Christ, Superstar.
Well, I did JCSS the first two weekends of April, and I hardly had a rant about it. What can I say, it's community theater, so should I expect anything decent? The band was good, that's all that mattered, even if the sound sucked so hard we sounded like karaoke-in-a-can.
But the funny thing that happened was one day, before the show while I was tuning, some actor walked by and he said "Nee!". And the girl he was with said "Huh?" And he repeats "Nee!". And she was so clueless, she said "I don't know what you mean."
So I said (still tuning) "We are no longer the Knights Who Say 'Nee'. We are now the Knights Who Say 'Icky-icky-icky gamoopowm zowie!'" And he turned around and pointed both fingers at me with his jaw dropped and he said "I never met a chick who could recite The Holy Grail!!!!" And then he said the funniest thing, which was quote of the day:
"But you play electric guitar. That takes the chick right out of you!"
I took it as a great compliment.
Well, I did JCSS the first two weekends of April, and I hardly had a rant about it. What can I say, it's community theater, so should I expect anything decent? The band was good, that's all that mattered, even if the sound sucked so hard we sounded like karaoke-in-a-can.
But the funny thing that happened was one day, before the show while I was tuning, some actor walked by and he said "Nee!". And the girl he was with said "Huh?" And he repeats "Nee!". And she was so clueless, she said "I don't know what you mean."
So I said (still tuning) "We are no longer the Knights Who Say 'Nee'. We are now the Knights Who Say 'Icky-icky-icky gamoopowm zowie!'" And he turned around and pointed both fingers at me with his jaw dropped and he said "I never met a chick who could recite The Holy Grail!!!!" And then he said the funniest thing, which was quote of the day:
"But you play electric guitar. That takes the chick right out of you!"
I took it as a great compliment.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
The Banjo Story
(as promised)
Well, I've been wanting a new banjo. Because mine isn't that great. Served me well at the time, but as I've gotten better and have been using it professionally more often, I've really wanted one with a better tone. Saw this really nice yet affordable one at the House of Guitars. And me being "in" with them, I was quoted a not-to-be-passed-up price for it. But of course I had to wait until I had some extra cash, which I'd have after those two cherry college gigs I did in March.
So then I got really busy, but was absolutely going to get it on a certain Saturday when I had some time. I had to be in Buffalo the night before for a rehearsal but I was getting all geared up for it. So Saturday comes around and I had to go teach my banjo student first, then I was going to take the old banjo right to the H.O.G. and trade her in. So I go to my student's and we get started. Grab my banjo out of the case and notice a little card in there from Kelly. How sweet! Slipping me little love notes where I least expect it. But I can't be opening that card in front of a 13 year-old girl, so I just put it back in the case and we get started.
I grab her banjo book and look over what she's worked on for the past week, and I strum my banjo and it is wickedly out of tune. WTF, I think, happy to be getting rid of it today. So I start tuning it, and the tuning peg doesn't feel right. So I look at said banjo and it looks different. I stop and I look at the banjo. For like 30 seconds. And finally I say to my student "Katie, my banjo says 'Fender' at the top. I have an 'Encore'". And she says "It looks just like mine!"
And so it did! It wasn't my banjo at all! It was the new banjo I wanted! And it had taken me like FIVE FRICKIN' GENIUS MINUTES before I realized I was holding a totally different banjo! And then I went over (as cool as I could) to the case and grabbed that card from Kelly, and on the back it said "No Strings Attached!" HAHAHAHAHA! And there was this really sweet note from her giving me the banjo.
When I was in Buffalo the night before she went over to my house and took my old banjo, brought it to the H.O.G. herself, and bought me the new banjo. She slipped in the card, returned to my house with the new banjo, and I was none the wiser until I finally figured out what happened.
ISN'T THAT THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOU EVER DID HEAR OF?????
(as promised)
Well, I've been wanting a new banjo. Because mine isn't that great. Served me well at the time, but as I've gotten better and have been using it professionally more often, I've really wanted one with a better tone. Saw this really nice yet affordable one at the House of Guitars. And me being "in" with them, I was quoted a not-to-be-passed-up price for it. But of course I had to wait until I had some extra cash, which I'd have after those two cherry college gigs I did in March.
So then I got really busy, but was absolutely going to get it on a certain Saturday when I had some time. I had to be in Buffalo the night before for a rehearsal but I was getting all geared up for it. So Saturday comes around and I had to go teach my banjo student first, then I was going to take the old banjo right to the H.O.G. and trade her in. So I go to my student's and we get started. Grab my banjo out of the case and notice a little card in there from Kelly. How sweet! Slipping me little love notes where I least expect it. But I can't be opening that card in front of a 13 year-old girl, so I just put it back in the case and we get started.
I grab her banjo book and look over what she's worked on for the past week, and I strum my banjo and it is wickedly out of tune. WTF, I think, happy to be getting rid of it today. So I start tuning it, and the tuning peg doesn't feel right. So I look at said banjo and it looks different. I stop and I look at the banjo. For like 30 seconds. And finally I say to my student "Katie, my banjo says 'Fender' at the top. I have an 'Encore'". And she says "It looks just like mine!"
And so it did! It wasn't my banjo at all! It was the new banjo I wanted! And it had taken me like FIVE FRICKIN' GENIUS MINUTES before I realized I was holding a totally different banjo! And then I went over (as cool as I could) to the case and grabbed that card from Kelly, and on the back it said "No Strings Attached!" HAHAHAHAHA! And there was this really sweet note from her giving me the banjo.
When I was in Buffalo the night before she went over to my house and took my old banjo, brought it to the H.O.G. herself, and bought me the new banjo. She slipped in the card, returned to my house with the new banjo, and I was none the wiser until I finally figured out what happened.
ISN'T THAT THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOU EVER DID HEAR OF?????
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Catching up...
Okay, here's the archiving of Farris's 8th birthday, combined with the celebration of Hank's 10th birthday (Kelly's dog..)
First I set up the birthday table on their kitty condo. But Puddy was more intersted in it at first:
Then Farris saw the goodies, and said "Hey! Those are mine!"
As always I gave him his favorite treat: Kozyshack Chocolate Pudding.
Along with the pudding he got treats and a catnip toy, which Puddy immediately took possession of, but Farris didn't care, because he was more interested in the pudding.
A couple weeks later was Hank's big day, so many Pisces animals everywhere...Kelly put a biscuit in his kong toy and filled it with Peanut Butter. Yummy!!
Aren't they cute??
Okay, here's the archiving of Farris's 8th birthday, combined with the celebration of Hank's 10th birthday (Kelly's dog..)
First I set up the birthday table on their kitty condo. But Puddy was more intersted in it at first:
Then Farris saw the goodies, and said "Hey! Those are mine!"
As always I gave him his favorite treat: Kozyshack Chocolate Pudding.
Along with the pudding he got treats and a catnip toy, which Puddy immediately took possession of, but Farris didn't care, because he was more interested in the pudding.
A couple weeks later was Hank's big day, so many Pisces animals everywhere...Kelly put a biscuit in his kong toy and filled it with Peanut Butter. Yummy!!
Aren't they cute??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)