things i forgot to tell you last night, part 3

i totally saw david lee roth.

things i forgot to tell you last night, part 2.

i got hit on by a couple of cops on my way home last night. kind of. i was crossing the intersection they were waiting at, book in hand and boots on feet.

"where are you coming from?"
"excuse me?"
"where are you coming from, work or school?"

the voice was coming from the squad car, which i'm glad i noticed before i made my retort. instead of the furious stare or glob of sputum which i typically throw at people who bother me on my way home, i figured it was probably best to be polite.

"work, actually, though the subway's pretty educational in its own way."
"that's true. well, you look very nice tonight. have a good evening."

and they drove away.

i was so flummoxed by that compliment, that genuinely pleasant encounter (i mean, as pleasant as an interruption that stands between you and your comfortable shoes can be) that i barely had enough presence of mind to wish them a nice evening as well.

things i forgot to tell you last night, part 1.

part of the news i received while catching up with herr producer last night is that the studio's computer system was infected with a particularly nasty virus two days after the owner went on tour with a band. which means that the master files for pretty much everything i've recorded in the last two years has been eaten.

this includes the master files for the dilemma remix.

an open letter to everyone who's ever written a computer virus:
fuck you.
love,
shiv

blocked

to say i have writer's block would most certainly not be putting too fine a point on it. perhaps it's a casualty of being in love; perhaps it's some sort of delayed seasonal affective disorder side effect. but, i have no less than four songs half written, and none of them seem willing to come to fruition. and it's bothering me a lot. enough that i should be able to write music about how much i am bothered, if nothing else.

in other news, i just got sixty two dollars back from the new york state government, and would appreciate suggestions on how to spend it.

like a ton of bricks.

it occurred to me today, as i was looking at my obscenely high gas bill, that i am moving in just about one month. having not done so recently, i'm fighting hard to stave off an absolute panic of questions. when do i tell the gas company that i'm moving so they don't gouge me for any more than they currently are? where do i get boxes? how much should i expect to pay for movers?

honestly, not a fucking clue. the last time i moved, i was out of college and could fit the sum total of my belongings into the back seat of a car. now, the stakes are a little different and i have no problem saying that i have absolutely not the faintest clue where to begin.

the inexcusable irony of this all being that i USED TO WORK FOR A MOVING COMPANY.

nerves

i hear my voice wafting out of the back office, caught in mortal terror that it's going to be deemed trash and i'm going to have to a) start all over and b)explain what i have been doing in these last few weeks.

the beast

in other news, i have just completed the rough version of my first huge project for new employers. considering i went from "flash? what's flash?" to a completely navigable virtual tour in just under five weeks...i'm pretty proud of myself.

mane and nail.

biologists say that one of the reason men favor long, lustrous hair on the female of the species is that it's a prime indicator of one's general health history--if your hair is long and healthy, that indicates that you have spent the better part of the last few years in a decent state of repair. as of yet, this distinction has yet to be applied to such things as finger and toenails, at least officially, but i rather feel that (in my case at least) it wouldn't be entirely far off to say that if one were to have charted the state of my toenails over the last few weeks, they'd be able to make an accurate conjecture as to the evolution of my mental and physical state.

to wit: the last few weeks have been highly stressful on several levels; as such, i have been disinclined to pay much attention to my feet. so, by the time everything came to a head last week, they were in a deplorable state of repair-ragged, discolored, pitiful. not entirely unlike my patience by then, not entirely unlike my resilience in the face of what was going on. but, as there's always some sort of turning point, the weekend saw lots of clarity and recovery on many levels--answers were made available, plans were laid, and the terrifying fog that had been overseeing so many proceedings of late finally dissipated enough to show us the paths that we could take out. the weekend also saw me having my first pedicure in months with two of my best and brightest, relaxed, happy and calm.

in short, this weekend saw my mind, like my nails, transformed from ragged and potentially hazardous to myself and others to cherry red, shiny, and well-kept.

well, okay. my mind isn't cherry red. exactly.

in the boudoir

if you ever find yourself at this establishment on a night when a bartender named lauren is working, please be certain to give her a big smile and a big tip. because she is officially my hero of the day.

the story goes a little something like this: i have been scheduled to play a show at this place for nigh on a month. i was warned by the former booking agent to call in and confirm the show at some point--there was a changing of the guard due, and things were bound to get tricky in the melee. so, i did. i did not, however, get through to anyone useful until last night. who summarily informed me that they had no record of my booking and that i should take it up with M, the booking agent who'd just finished his stint there.

well.

i'm sure you can imagine how well i took that. much to my surprise, i managed to stay collected and inform the girl i was on the phone with (lauren) that i'd made the booking in mid-march, and that i'd already informed my mailing list and everyone i know. upon hearing that, lauren sprang into action, informing the manager on duty that it was horrendously unfair of them to just take the slot away, as the fracas had nothing to do with me. it took her a few minutes, but she engineered a schedule switch up which will probably get me some angry looks from the person who was supposed to do a one-hour slot starting at nine, but will make me and my peeps pretty happy.

so, i raise a glass to the good lauren, who through sheer perseverance and scheduling knowhow salvaged my evening, and verily deserves libations on us.

p.s. everyone who requested a cd--i haven't forgotten! i'm just experiencing technical difficulties.

we interrupt this bulletin...

much confusion 'round here. stay tuned.

help me out, here.

kismet

lyrical

So, I wrote this song a little over a year ago, for someone going through a rough time. The grand irony of the situation is that by the time I’d finished writing it, the friend I’d written it for had basically decided he didn’t actually need to talk to me anymore. So the song got shelved for a while, out of respect for irony so extreme that it rendered the message of the song utterly moot.

But I’m finding more and more that the lyrics are applicable to some stuff that’s going on right now. So I hereby rededicate the song, to someone who is, in fact, still speaking to me.

Breathe in, breathe out that’s one more day you’ve made it through I know it’s hard now but that’s just what you’ve got to do I know that it’s hard now but you can make it through What’s it going to take for you to listen when I say this is not the worst decision you could possibly have made I know the days are short now and it’s getting hard to see exactly how much better for you things are going to be hold on a little longer and I promise you will see but till that day comes round you’ve still got me I know this isn’t quite what you had bargained for this place so cold I see you looking for the door you try to I won’t let you lose your way so easily what’s it going to take for you to listen when I say this is not the worst decision you could possibly have made I know the days are short now and it’s getting hard to see exactly how much better for you things are going to be hold on a little longer and I promise you will see but till that day comes round you’ve still got I will be your shelter I will get you through the night I will be your strength when you’ve got nothing left to fight with I will be your beacon I will always guide you home you’re not in this alone

i've been brunched!

i think that fish covered the spectacle of brunch best: it was delicious, delightful, delectable, full of transatlantic crosswordy goodness and dirty minds and very favoritest new people. and cannolis.

caption me.

this story isn't mine, but it's fucking priceless.

once upon a time, there was a man, a man with a boyfriend. the boyfriend was an adventurous short, who suggested that they take on a third, a lovely lady with whom the original friend ultimately fell in love.



that doesn't, of course, mean that boyfriend ever went away.



so, when i say that after love comes marriage, i mean for all three of them. the interesting part is, if you have any interest whatsoever in current events, you know that the subject of gay marriage is still causing an uproar, in that the conservative establishment doesn't want to grant an entire sect of the population the right to holy matrimony; if it's impossible to be officially married as a pair, what's a trio to do?



well, the polyamorous three have neatly sidestepped this problem. as far as john q. law is concerned, these three are celebrating their commitment to one another by declaring themselves a limited liability company.



so it's not so much that they're getting married. they're really just getting incorporated.

on counteracting holly golightly's mean reds.

yesterday was absolutely positively one of those days where playing with others was a Very Bad Idea for this little shivlet. i felt frumpy and incapable, and just generally on the wrong side of the coffin. fortunately for me, i managed to escape the notice of management for most of the day, which was good--having a big ol' project that they don't understand the nuts and bolts of has bought me quite a lot of alone time around here.



but i digress. my point is that when such frumpiness hits, there is only one thing to do to countermand its horrid iron fist of melancholy.



get a haircut.

touching (cheese alert)

i had an all-too-extended period in my life where i didn't want people to touch me, for any reason at all. casual taps on the shoulder made me recoil, and god help you if you grabbed me or startled me.



..i still don't know what triggered this; i know it was perpetuated by a series of unpleasant encounters, one of which comprised being thrown against a wall on 13th st. and having the contents of my shirt mauled by my date, despite my repeated protestations. that encounter ended with a long line of scratches on the responsible party's neck and a display of freakish strength on my part; i emerged unscathed (other than some bruises), but after that, i manifested my dislike with visible flinch when people i didn't know well attempted to touch me.

smokin'

i woke up this morning with dom's nicotine patch stuck to my lower back. we're still baffled.
smoke free for three (weeks) and now some force decides i need the patch? of course, it would make sense, as i've only now developed a smoker's cough. i seem to be going backwards in this whole business of quitting.

ech.

ugh. burnt coffee.

family business.

they say you can tell a lot about a culture based on the way they treat their children and their elders. i think this is true; in particular, i think you can tell a lot about a workplace based on how the brass talk about and treat their kids.

stuck.

it would appear that everyone in the western hemisphere has today off except for neff and biscuit and myself. in response to this horrible injustice, i have been resolutely not overly productive. i'm tinkering in flash, building our virtual tour and listening to the pod (moloko, lilyvolt), thinking about the following things: the agony that is being inside on a day like today; gumdrops, and why i've been obsessed with them for the last few weeks; how strange it feels to actually look forward to such things as doing my laundry and cleaning my closet, both of which i intend to do this weekend; my total denial that i'm going to be moving in seven weeks; how much i love two very different songs called victoria; the fact that a second mouse was discovered in the sink last night by dom and how glad i am that i was not the one to discover it; that my skin is literally aching for summer; why the pod simply refuses to hold a charge; the joy that is suddenly having 728 megs of RAM; how on earth i'm going to survive the next six hours without losing my tiny little mind.

a miscellany

1. i was an hour late for work today. last night was the first night i'd been home since daylight savings began, and it appears that the only clock i didn't reset was my alarm clock. whoops.
2. i dreamed last night that i was being assaulted by a little old man, who i promptly bludgeoned to death with a lamp. once dead, he turned into a stuffed elephant, and i performed cpr to revive him, because i didn't want to be branded a murderer.
3. i occasionally have really questionable taste in music. i really, really do. and i make absolutely no apology for it.

on the L

i'm not sure i'm entirely au fait with the notion of the L train having a mind of its own.

medical care in the great state of brooklyn

dom's roommate a. doesn't miss a trick.
it took him no more than five minutes to notice the paper cuff on my arm and ask me what i'd been doing at the local hospital. while i declined to answer in specific terms (as i will do here--suffice it to say, the reason i went to the hospital was really quite unpleasant and really looked much worse than it actually was), i assured him that i was fine, and went about my business of nursing the very stiff drink i'd poured upon our return to the homestead ten minutes prior.
the saga began three hours before, when the offending incident occurred and i interrupted the construction of dinner to announce that i needed to go to the hospital. immediately. within seconds, dom had dropped everything (quite literally; the fish made a lovely splatting sound upon the counter) and got on the horn to his friend l., who didn't think twice about giving us a ride for expediency's sake. after much hemming and hawing as to which hospital i was to be deposited at (new york methodist? lenox hill? mt. sinai?), we decided that closer was better, and i found myself in the waiting room at the long island college hospital on the arm of a very concerned boy.

thoroughly civilized.

twelve foot ceilings. eight foot windows. beautiful hardwood floors. tree lined block. daffodils in the front patio garden. two giant closets. secure mailbox. gentle landlord. fabulous location. glorious kitchen cabinetry. close to the q. exposed brick in the bedroom.


ours. ours. ours. ours. ours.


we signed the papers today, liebchens. i can already see where i'm going to put the pieces of furniture that survive the move.

a lot has been going down 'round these parts...

first, assuming all goes well and i haven't failed my credit check, this evening, dom and i are going to become the proud tenants (as of june 1) of a fabulous one-bedroom, just a few blocks from the park and the bits of the slope that i really love. more details once we've actually signed in blood.


second, mousezilla has been vanquished, no thanks to the mouse post-its. i'm not sure whether it was a degenerative disease or high heat exposure, perhaps a pervasive sense of ennui, but last night around nine, the mouse crawled out of ONE OF THE BURNERS ON MY STOVE and promptly expired. i say with no small amount of pride that i did not scream, i did not shy away, i did not break stride in the motions of cooking dinner. i did, however, call upon dom to dispose of it for me. i will make french toast out of mouseloaf, but i think some things are really better left to the menfolk. we birth the babies, you can throw out the mice.
**interlude/krissa's thoughts on the mouse: "i can't believe the damn thing was cunning enough to pull the challah off the post-it, and then walked into his own personal inferno of doom!"**


third...