just call me a shark

it would seem that, unbenownst to me, somewhere along the line i learned how to play a pretty wicked game of pool.
it's good to keep surprising yourself.

Posted by shivery at 09:37 AM | Comments (0)

remember when i said we do thanksgiving up right?

dig our prandial masterpiece.

Posted by shivery at 11:08 AM | Comments (0)

thanks, baby

i was attempting to give y'all one more installment of the guide to new york before everyone in this country shuts down and chains themselves to their stoves in the pursuit of what i consider to be the best holiday of all time: thanksgiving. a day whose entire point is to sit around with the people you love, eat a lot of food, get really drunk, and think about what makes you happy. what you're thankful for.

• my friends, who know without fail when to just sit back and let me operate on auto-witter and when to step in and call me on my bullshit. who are always on call to mop up a broken heart and always up for a night of debauchery and debate. they challenge me, surprise me, amaze me, make me crazy and make me proud. if the mettle of a man (or woman) can be discerned by the company (s)he keeps, then it's no wonder that my fits of self-loathing have grown so much fewer and further between; if i am to be judged by my friends, then i must be beautiful, brilliant, kind, caring, talented, fierce, strong and worldly to deserve so many people with those qualities in my life.  tribe, i salute thee, and i am thankful that you have all become a part of my life. i don't know what i'd do without you.


• my family. for all my grousing about my family, for all the frustration and anger that i frequently vent about my blood-clan, i am thankful for them, because without them i would not be the girl i am today. their largely hands-off method of parenting has left me fiercely independent and tough as nails, because i've always been expected to take care of my day-to-day myself. but without fail, when the shit really goes down, i know they're there for me. and that makes it easier to go out and risk myself to do what i want, because i know that i've got the big guns sitting in the wings to help me with damage control. family, i salute thee! personally, i think you did a pretty good job with me, for all my faults and issues.


• my dreams, and the fact that there are people other than myself who believe in them.


• my voice.


• myself, because i'm pretty fond of who i've become. and because i'm pretty proud of the life i've carved out for myself, warts and all.


• whiskey.

there's more, of course, but those are the big ones.


happy thanksgiving, kids. may yours be warm, trauma-free, and full of a buffy marathon.

Posted by shivery at 12:57 PM | Comments (0)

ah, narcissism!

i'm having some trouble thinking of anything to say today, so until my brain comes back online, here's what i look like when i'm actually happy.

(thanks for the pic, jason!)

update: it has been brought to my attention that the 'when i'm happy' tag implies that i am not happy right now. which is a TRAGIC LIE! life is good, liebchens. i'm just having a brain stall.

that is all!

Posted by shivery at 10:32 AM | Comments (0)

grinch this

as i type, fairy lights are being hung by the cubicles with care by sally sue (in a desperate attempt to raise morale a little for the holidays)...the mistletoe mafia is brewing its wiles to launch the party of the season...and therein lies today's conundrum. we promised one of the guests that we would find the best and brightest of all holiday songs to provide our background noise, which means: time to concoct the mix. here's what i'm plotting so far:
santa baby-eartha kitt/you're a mean one, mr. grinch/yuleman vs. the anti-claus-the bobs/christmas wrapping-the waitresses/jingle bells-brian setzer orchestra/santa claus is coming to town-jackson five (though that might be just a little too horrible)/christmas time is here-a charlie brown christmas/jingle bells-ray charles (please god, let me find this)/what are you doing new year's-rufus wainwright...

...and that's where my suggestions taper off. help me out here, kids! what songs would you add to my (not-so) fabulous christmas mix?

Posted by shivery at 02:04 AM | Comments (0)

if only pandora had left the box open a little bit longer.

"you have what they call a 'dove face,'" he said, drawing mine towards him for closer inspection. "tiny mouth, pointed chin...valentine-heart shaped."


it all started with a crisis of ego transformed to a crisis of recovery, with me at the epicenter trying to figure out if i still had it in me to be the object of desire and had it in me yet to enjoy it. and that is why i allowed this man, this humorless professor, to kiss me. i needed a barometer. i needed to know. as it happened, i tried very hard to fall headlong into the moment and revel in the effect i clearly had on this man, revel in the long-missed touch of another... but all i could think was 'this is the wrong mouth;' 'these are the wrong hands' and 'these are the wrong kisses.'


my suspicion was confirmed by the first words out of his mouth when we broke for breath: "such a small mouth...i bet you give great head with that small mouth."

Posted by shivery at 07:55 AM | Comments (0)

dressmakers and dumbwaiters

on the street where i work, right on the dirty outskirts of the fashion district, there are many shops crammed full of strange things. my favorite is one whose name i can't remember (largely because it's obscured by scaffolding, and thus not burned into my consciousness every day), but its windows are full of strange and mysterious parts belonging to ancient sewing machines, scissors that date back to the victorian era if they're a day, and a number of old-fashioned dressmakers dummies in varying states of decreptitude. i love passing this place, where the sweat-stained light fixtures give the long, narrow room a feeling of otherworldliness, as though you're looking behind the scenes of your own mind. or perhaps someone else's.

today, it gave me a little tour down my own wistful primrose path, though all flashes and minutae. a painfully bright day just before graduation and the destruction of a mannequin by way of insertion into a dish chute (not entirely unlike a dumbwaiter) in the school kitchens. i remember the way the freshly cut grass smelled, i remember the way the sunshine clung to my clothes for a good ten minutes before being vanquished by the cellar-like air of the kitchen, i remember the feeling of abandon, of freedom, of glee in a little bit of mindless destruction. i remember the clover puffball that i'd fashioned into a ring. but i can't remember who i was with, or why we were there, or where the damn mannequin had come from.

i could paint you a picture in freeze frame, but the narrative is long gone.

Posted by shivery at 11:24 AM | Comments (0)

shivery's guide to new york #4: junior's deli

i've said it before, and i'll say it again:
Who knows how to make love stay?
1. Tell love you are going to Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if love stays, it can have half. It will stay.
--tom robbins, still life with woodpecker.

founded in 1950 by harry rosen, junior's deli is a brooklyn landmark and a local legend. frankly, it's so well known that there's not really much i can say about it that you couldn't find on a dozen other sites inside of a minute. but i can tell you this much:

be sure to try the cornbread. trust me.

their sandwiches are always and without fail the size of your head, so be prepared to get it wrapped up to go. either that or fast for at least three days before your visit.

be advised that the devil's food cheesecake should only be attempted by professional chowhounds: it's a cheesecake INSIDE a chocolate cake. not for the faint of heart. but really, the original and unadorned version is so great that such a creation is really not necessary to get the proper experience.

you can order a cheesecake from anywhere in the US and have it shipped within a day. so, even if you can't make it out to the corner of flatbush and dekalb, you can have a little slice of brooklyn (and heaven) sent door-to-door.

and there you go! a little cheesecake lovin' for your friday afternoon. if you want to know more about junior's but a plane ticket is a far cry from reality, you can also check this out, and dream...
picture credit little owl.

Posted by shivery at 01:51 AM | Comments (0)

wait, the cauldron needs to bubble for HOW long?

now that it is both raining and approaching thanksgiving, i find my interest in cooking is waxing quite a bit. while nowhere near the epic proportions it had the summer i was a kept woman (who has the time?), it is definitely stepping up to a point beyond the typical rice-beans-peppers action of my usual culinary creative roster. i am of the opinion that in winter, there is something very pleasing about the notion of toiling over a hot stove, particularlty when doing so for other people. perhaps it's my maternal instinct kicking in, perhaps its my chronic propensity for cold, but i would like at some point to return again to hearth and home and restore my kitchen to a room of more purpose than a storage bin for my whiskey and coffee.

today i was looking at recipes for corn pudding, mushroom quiche and pumpkin soup; i have also dug up my recipe for flourless chocolate torte. and while my kitchenly prowess is nothing by comparison to the biscuit's, i think i could tear it up with those dishes. or die trying!

any victims volunteers interested in coming over for dinner?

Posted by shivery at 09:47 AM | Comments (0)

an early frustration

can someone please explain to me why it is that as soon as most people reach the executive level, they lose the capacity for tact and courtesy? i mean, does it feel good to make underlings feel like stupid gits for minor oversights?

Posted by shivery at 09:17 AM | Comments (0)

either/or

i sometimes find it difficult to tell if i'm engaging in a certain course of action because it's the right thing to do, or just because i'm stubborn.

Posted by shivery at 03:08 AM | Comments (0)

i guess you could call it superpowers

this morning, cruellittleman asked me what my superpower was. not what superpower i would choose, but which one i actually have. for me, the answer was easy: siren scream, able to shatter glass when the wind is blowing the right way. (quite an improvement over the superpower that the englishman ex bestowed upon me--mix tape girl, always prepared with the right song for any occasion. a great skill, but a severely pussy superpower) clm's superpower is drinking coffee in mass quantities. wang's, apparently, is masturbation.

Posted by shivery at 11:04 AM | Comments (0)

all i want for christmas is a rhyming dictionary

i've said it before, but allow me to reiterate: writing lyrics is the bane of my existence. seriously. it's one of the few aspects of my life where i allow the inner perfectionist to take over and make my life a living hell. i refuse to perform mundane and predictable lyrics; none of this 'oh baby, you done me wrong, i just wanna love ya' bullshit for me. no. i must use words like 'acquiesce,' and 'absolution.' i want words and phrases that stampede across 32 beats without missing a step. i like my lyrics to adequately convey the complexity of the emotion or story i am discussing. as such...it's a struggle.


as jason has pointed out to me, i'm a victim of my own propensity for cleverness. it's become expected of me. and while if i'm going to live up to standards set by anyone, it may as well be those set by myself. but really. it's a bit of a mindfuck when i fall short.


as such, i've developed a complex about lyric-crafting, and my new song is making me want to commit ritual harakiri.


that is all.


/end transmission.

Posted by shivery at 02:25 AM | Comments (0)

hurr hurr, oi does loikes warmff

at last, at long, long last my apartment has heat!

in what has become a yearly tradition, we have been without the joy of water-based radiation since the weather has started to get cold, well past the october 15 turn-on date mandated by the city of new york. as such, the apartment has not been terribly comfortable. fortunately for me, i've been such a busy little ninja that this lapse in livable temperature hasn't affected me much; i just haven't been home. that does not mean, however, that i was not working on remedying the problem. after all, it's going to be a long winter, and i have only so much furniture to feed to the inevitable barrel fire i'd be huddling around in the living room.

so phone calls were made, and at long last, my landlord dropped by yesterday to help me sort this out. needless to say, however, just because he was there did not mean it went smoothly.

"so, i've checked your boiler, and the pilot light's on, and your thermostat's okay. you should be getting heat."
"yes, i completely agree"
*beat*
"maybe we should call a plumber?"

so, after much rigamorole, the plumber appears, descends into the basement and emerges moments later to the sounds of my whooping and hollering because hot water has begun to course through our sad, freezing pipes, suffusing the apartment with long overdue ambient heat. the problem? the switch that enables the connection between the heater and my thermostat? yeah. switched to 'OFF' since mid-may.

according to ockham's razor (or whatever the hell agent scully calls it), the simplest explanation is frequently the correct one. so, why is it that we never, ever think to check it first?

but anyway. old man winter, bring it on: i'm so ready for you.

Posted by shivery at 09:24 AM | Comments (0)

FYI

i really didn't have much to do with lady k and owlet's christmas surprise--i just encouraged him.

Posted by shivery at 12:54 PM | Comments (0)

shivery's guide to new york #3: the manhattan bridge

by and large, it's the bastard stepchild of the east river crossings--the youngest of the suspension bridges that straddle the river; not nearly so iconic as the brooklyn bridge, not so rough and tumble as the queensborough and lacking the indie cred of the williamsburg (by pure virtue of its end point)...but if i were to recommend a bridge to walk over (because crossing the river on foot is an essential experience), this would be the one. starting at canal street in manhattan and ending on flatbush ave in brooklyn (just down the street from junior's deli), the manhattan bridge is 6855 feet of pure suspension bridge hot action, carrying pedestrians, subways and vehicles across the great divide. i love it because it disgorges 100 yards from ross' place. i love it because its supports look like the eiffel tower. i love it because it's always under construction. i love it because nine times out of ten, you could walk faster over it than the trains seem to go.


i walked over it on the day of the blackout; i walked over it two days after my heart was last broken. i like to walk over it when there's too much noise in my head to process things. it helps me grow quiet, because it's difficult to feel confusion when surrounded by sky and river and home. but most of all, i love it because when you look south, you see this.

Posted by shivery at 08:21 AM | Comments (0)

double cookies for the big man this year.

oh, and for those of you who aren't tapped into the hive mind gulf stream? all we wanted for christmas was to have our kate come home again. and it looks like we must have been very good little ninjas this year, because she's coming back in just over three weeks.

Posted by shivery at 06:31 AM | Comments (0)

shivery's guide to new york #2: grey dog cafe

and now, ladies and gentlemen, we hop this tour on over to the land where the grid system has no real meaning, the west village. more specifically, the grey dog cafe (33 carmine st.; 212.462.0041). situated around the corner from bleecker st. records and across the street from the 'unoppressive, anti-imperialist bookshop' (yes, that is actually the name on the awning), the grey dog is all about strong coffee, cozy kitsch decor (such as the hand-painted tables, one of which features a map of sonoma county, my old stomping grounds) and sixteen kinds of bread ranging from sourdough to sun dried tomato. personally, i'm a fan of the sandwiches; i will freely admit that a grey dog grilled cheese makes me weak in the knees. the owl is more of an aficionado of their stellar french fries (as you will discover if you ever try to nick one without permission). but really, let's be honest. all the food is pretty damn stellar: the sandwiches are gourmet, the salads divine, the omelets the size of your head and the beverages (hot, cold and alcoholic) pleasantly diverse.

as far as i'm concerned, though, the very best thing about the grey dog is its front window, which takes up the entire front wall and is thrown wide open when the weather is nice, getting around new york's pesky zoning laws to give you a quasi-al fresco experience.

plus, they cater! now if only i could get them to deliver to midtown...

personal favorites: hot chocolate; grilled cheese with cheddar and sourdough; the #7 (sliced apples, brie, raspberry mustard and turkey); the fact that they refer to their house green salad as the 'cute' salad and yes, the french fries. oh, the french fries.

Posted by shivery at 10:06 AM | Comments (0)

i'm a million different people from one day to the next

today the red waves are curled up into a beret, the lips are slicked with candy red gloss and the wool skirt has been unleashed for the season. today, je pense que je suis comme une belle parisienne.

i sometimes feel that i live my life as a series of theme days. i choose identities to suit my mood: one day cyberpunk butch, all clompy boots and black black eyeshadow. the next, seventies siren, complete with flippy hair and electric blue eyeshadow. another, forties vamp, tight skirt, high heels and smooth hair, liquid eyeliner and red lips. still another, preppy reject, collared shirts and argyle sweater, sweet smile and kneesocks. beatnik intellectual: black turtleneck, ponytail and eyeglasses. lower east side fashion victim: flat cap, big earrings, i love new york tote, spike heels and tight jeans. serious professional: suit, heels.

i enjoy it, i love the game of dress-up, though for years i wondered if it meant that i lacked a sense of identity, that i was looking for myself in one of these women i kept trying on. the thing that i've realized, though, is that my search through them is actually the very root of my identity. i am all of these women at one time or another, as all women are.

i just let them pick their own wardrobes sometimes.

Posted by shivery at 09:12 AM | Comments (0)

and so it begins

and update: at this very moment, i am at biscuit's house, plotting thanksgiving dinner for the lucky fifteen who have rsvp'd...three appetizers, 12 entree-type things and several exciting desserts (including 40-proof pumpkin pie)...we're battening down the hatches and preparing the troops.

there will be pictures, oh yes. thanksgiving is what we do.

Posted by shivery at 10:44 AM | Comments (0)

we interrupt this bulletin...

...to remind you that i work with a bunch of nutjobs, indeed. i haven't spent much time in this forum railing about my job or my coworkers (which i loathe and tolerate, respectively), so what better way to introduce them than to paraphrase this morning's conversation for y'all.

*ahem*

on who should really be running for president of the united states in the next election:
tom hanks. (marilyn)
oprah. (sally sue)

that's right. welcome to my nightmare.

ah well. as long as it's not arnie. who is your random dark-horse candidate for president? my vote would have to go to either jean luc picard or the divine miss n.

Posted by shivery at 10:11 AM | Comments (0)

because i don't believe her for a second when she says she's okay.

as a creature that tends towards self-centrism when the chips are down, i have poured a lot of my focus inward these last few weeks. though i have popped my head up intermittently to offer what solace and comfort i can to my nearest and dearest, at all times a little part of me has remained with its eyes firmly trained on my own pain.

so far, only one person has managed to fully capture my attention. and blow me down if i am not just aching, breaking for her with every breath. she and i are running frighteningly similar gauntlets, though hers is mine raised to the eight millionth power. her heartbreak is borne of the sway of a stronger commitment than any i've ever had. her heartbreak is borne of a fury towards the self-proclaimed (though largely ineffectual) cavalry we've shared all our lives that burns and scorches everything in its path, leaving my own feelings of abandonment and relegation to afterthought insignificant. her heartbreak reduces mine to dust in seconds.

in the face of that fire, all i want is claw it out and bury it in the earth where it belongs. because i watch her, and i listen to her (those occasions we managed to cross paths)...and it's not that she can't fight this battle herself, it's not that she doesn't have the strength...it's just that it's a battle she shouldn't have to fight alone. it's a battle that nobody should fight alone. and having just been there (albeit to a lesser degree) i know how to fight this battle. obviously, i don't yet know how to win it. but i want to find that trick for her, even if i can't for myself.

i can't wage this fight for her, but i will throw down every gun i've got if any piece of it, of me, is what it will take to save her.

Posted by shivery at 03:35 AM | Comments (0)

row diland

so, rhode island rocks my face. autumn leaves, lunar eclipse, good friends, good food, fireplace, cliff walk, ocean view, rhonda the honda, rehoboth, clean air, stars, alias marathon, wine and whiskey, smoking, scarves, quiet, respite, coffee and croissants, vacation, not new york, different and lovely.


it was a kick-ass minibreak and it was everything i wanted it to be.

Posted by shivery at 11:24 AM | Comments (0)

shivery's guide to new york 1: naidre's cafe

i decided to start this guide close to home--ten blocks away, to be precise. located at 384 7th avenue in brooklyn's south slope, naidre's cafe is known for its super friendly staff, killer smoothies and sandwiches, great coffee and the ever-rotating message on its clapboard outside (a personal favorite: 'let's solve the middle east conflict the american way -- celebrity boxing!'). just a stone's throw from the 7th ave F stop (and around the corner from the biscuit), this 12-seat cafe is a really popular destination for south slopers: woe unto him who tries to get an actual chair on a saturday or sunday. but fret not, liebchens, because the lovelies at naidre's will pack up any of their specialties to go; they'll even assemble a picnic basket  (sandwich, drink, cookie and piece of fruit) for you--perfect for a day in prospect park (five blocks or so away)!

needless to say, i'm a big fan of this place--it was my first destination on september 12, 2001; it was my favorite place to grab a quick nosh pre-buffy; it's one of the places i go when i need to rekindle my love affair with brooklyn and a mandatory stop for all out of town guests.

PLUS, if you swing by in the summer, you just might get some free apples!


personal favorites: the tuna sandwich (my favorite tuna sammich in the city); peach and blueberry smoothies; the 7th avenue; sesame bagels with sun-dried tomato cream cheese; peanut butter cookies and the iced coffee. oh yeah.

Posted by shivery at 07:55 AM | Comments (0)

INTRODUCING....

what with idle hands being the devil's playground and all, we're making a pre-emptive strike to ensure the winter blues make no more progress in their onslaught. which means--you guessed it! project! watch this space for something fascinating and fabulous: shivery's guide to new york. once or twice a week, i'm going to be profiling one of my favorite places in new york fuckin' city (schedule dependent on how often i can kidnap people's digis), so you too can have a love/hate relationship with the city that never sleeps. suggestions, questions and comments are always welcome.
brace yourself, yo.

Posted by shivery at 06:09 AM | Comments (0)

orangerie

i find that the more shows i do, the less i have to say about them; i suppose that's a good sign, that i'm becoming a professional and growing as a musician. i also suppose it's a little disapponting, because the more competent i become as a performer, the fewer and further between come the jittery pre-show butterflies that make the whole thing so...singular. which is not to say that i wasn't having a good time, of course. i had a great time up there, and i like to think that i was very, very on, with the exception of the bridge to detour. that ended up a bit of a mess. let us discuss it no more. there was much in the way of screaming and yelling and yodeling (from me; from the audience there was good-natured heckling, thanks in no small part to the World's Sluttiest Top™ and the leather pants) as well as some proper banter once i got comfortable--about halfway through the set. i sometimes wish that i could get two-hour sets, because i don't really hit my stride until about six songs in.

and the funny thing is, i didn't really think about r. while i was up there, beyond an awareness of his presence in some of the music. even when i was playing the new song, even when i was shrieking the chorus to 'hallelujah' (a song i'm certain i've forever ruined for him), even when i was singing the song i wrote about our twilight days as a pair. before and after, oh yes. a great deal. painfully so. but while i was up there, during the time that had kept me up the night before with worry for my own ability to soldier on, he was merely a peripheral thought. for some reason, i find that absolutely uproarious. in a perverse, metaphysical way, however, it makes sense: in order to get through the set, i had to squeeze all the emotions i'm feeling about him out of it. which meant that they spilled out into the preamble and the postscript. or something. but i think that's a nice image. kind of like a lovelorn cannoli, if that makes any sense.

anyway. for the first time in about ten months, i walked out of the orange bear without a set next booking. i was tired, and i'm tired of playing there, to be perfectly honest. it's been my primary venue for nearly a year, and it's time to start putting my nose back to the grindstone and selling myself to new venues. or take a couple months off. whichever. and if that doesn't work out, i have an open invitation to call in and book another show (behold, the power of scantily clad bosoms when you're dealing with a male booking agent).

but don't worry, i'll still be around. in open mics, in the studio and in your dreams.

Posted by shivery at 09:31 AM | Comments (0)

hey, baby

my friend mica just had a baby. his name is oliver.

good god, we're getting older. shocking.

Posted by shivery at 03:03 AM | Comments (0)

everything that has a beginning has an ending.

i find it funny that this year's matrix offerings are irrevocably marked as bookends to this year's love. the night 'reloaded' came out was the night i announced that i'd been dating r. for two weeks and that i really liked him--i was busting out the big seduction guns (goat's cheese and cranberry risotto) and everything. last night was 'revolutions,' which found me sitting in the theater, left cold by the film and musing on the passing of that particular happiness, wondering when or if i'll get to make that kind of announcement again. wondering if i really would ever make my peace with him. and finally hoping for it.

funny. but at least it takes the sting out of how utterly disappointing the films were. and for these small mercies are we grateful.

in other news, i am wearing leather pants and will be playing a show in downtown manhattan. and i'd love to see you.

Posted by shivery at 10:43 AM | Comments (0)

go south, young woman!

the deadline to apply for SXSW is tomorrow.
i threw together my application package in just over a half hour, from running out for cds to burning them to filling out the form to breathlessly handing the whole damn thing over to the overnight courier.

it was quite a rush, let me tell you. something very nice about flexing those hyperspeed muscles.

and while i don't really harbor any hope in hell of actually being admitted (this is, after all, the most hard core live music festival in the continental united states), it is like anything else: if you don't try, you'll never know. and i want to know.

if i could insert sound effects, this is where you'd find the one of the hat falling quietly into the ring.

Posted by shivery at 01:29 AM | Comments (0)

words that this year have utterly ruined for me

quality.
delight.
tender.

what words do you have trouble looking in the eye?

Posted by shivery at 10:35 AM | Comments (0)

about bloody time.

holy mother of god, i've almost finished a new song. a NEW SONG. at long, long, long last. to be crass, i feel the way you feel when you vomit after getting really drunk. it smells funny, it's kind of painful, you don't really want to be doing it...but your head is so much clearer once you do. that's how i feel. cleaner.

and i just compared my songwriting to vomiting. probably not the best metaphor i could have chosen.

p.s. it occurs to me that i should probably unpack the vomit metaphor a little more...it's not so much that i feel that gross post-vomit aftermath feeing, it's that i feel better, like i've dislodged something from my throat and can now breathe again...and yes, that metaphor is much better, isn't it? it's like i'm breathing again, finally.

Posted by shivery at 11:09 AM | Comments (0)

small pleasures

contentment is a new song that you don't want to stop playing, even though your fingers are very clearly about to bleed.
i was so scared that i wouldn't be able to write about this, about anything, be able to write ever again. four weeks of being virtually unable to lift my guitar without falling to pieces, i felt like a piece of me was dying, like my last hope was lost. four weeks of having stones in my heart and lead in my tongue, four weeks of terror that i had lost what was more important to me than anything in the world. four weeks of having lost myself. four weeks of having lost my voice.
but it came back. my voice came back. and she's quiet, and she's tired, and she hurts all over and she still cries a lot. but she's come home.
though i will never forgive myself for letting him walk out the door with my confessional heart, even though it didn't stay away long, i will always find my solace in the knowledge that it loved me enough to come home. even if he didn't.
one of these days i'll forget that i love you

Posted by shivery at 10:14 AM | Comments (0)

it seemed like a good idea at the time.

be careful when conducting social experiments: sometimes they can open wounds.

Posted by shivery at 09:33 AM | Comments (0)

how real do you feel, mrs. peel?

tea and biscuit (and shivs)

Posted by shivery at 11:47 AM | Comments (0)

you want to know why i'm so tired?

check this schedule, yo
last week:
tuesday: recording and visitage with the divine miss n.
wednesday: buttermilk with tribe and the arrival of lady k.
thursday: open mic
friday: halloween (and let me tell you, it takes energy to swan about in that much vinyl), traipsing about with kate and jason
saturday: lunch at junior's, afternoon in prospect park, girly night
sunday: recording, grey dog, veg night and impromptu concert, late straggler to veg night appearing at half past midnight.

this week:
monday: drinks and possible alias viewing
tuesday: possible drinks and more recording
wednesday: matrix
thursday: show at the orange bear
friday-saturday-sunday: row dyland.

i may not be sleeping, but who needs sleep with extracurriculars like these? although, if i remain awake for any of rhode island, i'll be terribly impressed with myself.

Posted by shivery at 05:00 AM | Comments (0)

warning:

brace yourselves, sweetlings: when the pictures from halloween arrive, you will probably want to have a fire extinguisher on hand. because we were JUST THAT HOT.
watch this space.

Posted by shivery at 12:54 PM | Comments (0)

hive mind

so goddamn hot.

Posted by shivery at 10:05 AM | Comments (0)