things that are rocking my socks:

'alright' by the lost patrol.
'there she goes my beautiful world' by nick cave and the bad seeds.
multicolored sharpies--oh, the organization that will be me when they arrive!
metal-boned corsets.
messages from old friends i'd been thinking about of late.
band practice.
the return of art deco and the color green to fashionable favor.
the concurrent return of baking season.
closure, of sorts.
freshly waxed eyebrows.
perfectly poached eggs.
rapid fire emails consisting of miscellaneous sounds.
"the spam finder that changed Kate's life. Forever."
'mr. brightside' by the killers.
cate blanchett lookalikes.
red and black cuban heeled stockings.
hot showers.
cold rooms.
bailey's on ice.
dreams.

feel free to add to the list.

it's oh so quiet

this weekend was quiet, blissfully and gorgeously quiet, punctuated only by the occasional honk of geese and the bleatings of the sheep in the meadow outside our window. after the glorious excess of thanksgiving (and if you need any description of that other than that it was fecking FANTASTICALLY DELICIOUS, i simply can't help you), dom and i decamped to the jersey countryside (they apparently have some of that! who knew?) to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the day we met.

if you live in new york (or any other big city, i'd wager), you know that the best gift of all is the gift of peace and quiet, some decompression time to quell the rattle that the city puts in your head after too long. and peace and quiet we had, staying in the library of a restored manor house with our own fireplace and giant feather bed. we slept a lot, and read, and spent lots of time in complete silence, devouring the volumes in our room and just enjoying one another's company. we walked the tiny town, and the next one over, looking at vintage guitars and corsets and antique coffee mugs.

and maybe it sounds boring to you, being out in the middle of nowhere. but now that we're in a band together, and we have active lives of our own on top of rehearsal (and we've been babysitting my sister's dog, whose desire to be walked at 5am has proven to us that we should probably never have children), we haven't had a great deal of time lately to just be dom and shiv, together. and we needed it. not because our relationship is under strain or needs some hard work (because it is neither, thanks), but because it feels so damn good to just slow down and love someone, and be loved.

plus, there was the whole issue of finding hot chocolate, fresh coffee and a freshly-cooled pan of brownies waiting for us when we returned to the inn--marching over the delaware works up an appetite!

giving thanks

i am thankful that i get to have so many people i love and care about in one room.

i have so much to be thankful for. love, health, a job that doesn't kill my soul, a band that i adore, friends that i adore, and a wonderful man who wants to marry me.

what are you thankful for?

happy thankgiving.

tears of a clown.

it was the crying that did it, i think. the tears that rolled down my cheeks were what propelled r. into the other room, closing the door behind him softly and leaving me to my shame and embarrassment. i had just told him i loved him for the first time; he had just told me that he didn't. and i started to cry.

it was august. it was the first time he broke my heart.

it shouldn't have come as a surprise--the signs were all there, from his disinterest in calling me to his asking me to help him pick a costume for a party which he didn't invite me to join. but, i'd spent the entire relationship so smitten, so shuttered, that i was utterly blindsided by this news. and so i cried, from shock, from disappointment, and from hurt. by the time he'd broken my heart for the second time, i was properly reacquainted with my tears, though we'd only passed each other fleetingly in the years preceding.

i spent a long time not being much of a crier. i have no idea why this is; heaven knows i spent the ages of 14-22 largely sad enough to have spent vast swaths of time in tears. but it wasn't really my thing. i chalk it up to an iron will and a seething aversion to cryface. or perhaps actual depression, i'm not sure. all i know is that that day in august opened a floodgate, which had been stemming the tide of eight years of sublimated sobs, and since then i've been the lightest touch to a crying jag.

this would all certainly explain why, on sunday morning, i burst into racking sobs upon the receipt of a message containing nothing but an email address--no pleasantries, no greetings, no message; but also, nothing mean or hurtful. it was from my stepmother, to whom i've always felt close, until recently. logic says that it's her own unhappiness that is causing this distance between us; emotion says it's something i've done, some failing of mine, some offense i've committed to have caused her to stop calling just to chat, to fail to ask me when i'm planning on getting married or if i'm even excited, two weeks after the announcement. to be even remotely interested.

logic, sadly, stood no chance.

for some reason, that email address was enough to trigger a howling storm out of me, a manifestation of all my frustration and pain that no matter how hard i try, there will always be this distance between me and my family, no matter how much i love them. that it is this distance that built my achilles heel, my fear of abandonment and loneliness, and my desperate need for love and validation from other people. it is why i take it so harshly when people walk out of my life (or when i suspect they don't really want to be there in the first place), and why i sometimes act distant and shutter myself off. it's why i spent about eighteen months after college going to bed with characters i really shouldn't have because i just wanted someone, anyone to find me precious, even if it was just for a night.

fortunately, it's also why i am able to recognize how very, very lucky i have found someone who doesn't walk out of the room when i cry, who instead wraps his arms around me and tells me this: "you remember feeling like this before, when there was nobody there to hold you and be with you until you felt better? those days are over. they're over. forever."

even when i have cryface.

rooted in rock and roll

i missed out on the chocolate trip last night, the great pilgrimage to jacques torres' chocolate heaven--mecca for chocoholics everywhere! this is the downside of selling your soul to rock and roll: rehearsals and shows occasionally cause you to bow out of fun things. but, if you're lucky, you will have good friends bring you chocolate anyway*, and i can't actually imagine a better thing than getting jacques torres chocolate hand delivered to one's very own rock and roll show.

so about last night...there was rocking. there was rolling. there were a great many stifled impuses to be hyper self-critical and just enjoy. there was a revelation, and the revelation was this: this rock and roll lark? i dig it. and i don't think i can go back now to just being a girl with her guitar.

it's difficult to explain, the way it feels to be part of a big noisemaking machine on a stage. at risk of waxing overly rhapsodic, it feels...huge. electrifying. wonderful. it's something i'd not really done properly before; even our last show as a three piece ensemble (the pre-shivery incarnation) didn't capture it, the raw, blistering feeling of beating on an electric guitar with loud, beating drums and sinuous bass. the way it feels, to find your feet and your limbs moving of their own accord, to discover that you're dancing with your instrument without having realized it. to learn exactly how much strain you're willing to put your body through, to hit that note, to get that extra little bit of volume, to play that chord hard enough. to just relax and have a good time with two people you respect and care about and love to work with, and make GREAT BIG NOISE while you're at it.

it went so fast, too fast, and at the end of it i had sore fingers and a throat that is going to be utterly shot for at least a week. but good goddamn, did it feel amazing.

i think we're on to something.

* also, cookies! can i just take a moment to mention the cookies? did you see that buffy episode with john ritter in it? with the cookies? yeah. this cookie was like that. this is not the cookie talking

rock and roll, baby!

"the only regret i have about going electric is carrying the damn guitar--this thing weighs a fucking ton!"
"you know, i bet dylan said the exact same thing. 'playing electric is great and all, but the guitar's too damn heavy!' "

weekend, redux.

to quote the biscuit:

ow. my head.

it was a long, fantastic weekend, and i am paying the price of admission right now in headache. note to self: dressing up as america (my favorite degenerate empire) DOES NOT give license to drink the entire wine output of the state of california in one night. best to remember that.

backtracking to friday and the Sad Mood That Wouldn't End: after a long day at the office, i finally managed to shake the funk just in time for the engagement party. which is really quite fortunate, because it's hard to twitter and convey excitement properly when you're sitting in a corner, scowling. i was lucky: i had glitter in my bag and a glass of red wine waiting for me at the venue, so the transformation from gloom cookie to glowing bride-to-be didn't take terribly long. by the time the champagne started flowing, i was all smiles. and sparkle. and really big hair.

saturday saw the shivery's penultimate rehearsal before thursday's show; i daresay i think we might actually be ready to roll by then! it felt good, despite the fact that our rehearsal studio is an unheated room above an auto-detailing place--after three hours, my fingers were decidedly numb. however, we still managed to get our rawk on--and keep the attention of bill, our spectator and advice-giver for the day.

and that brings us to sunday, to the fall of the empire party: biscuit's gold toga, mike/anna's djellaba, kate's new tattoo, general debauchery and the biggest bloody bottle of riesling that has any business existing anywhere.

and on that note, i must go find something to mop up the excess wine still floating around my bloodstream; be so kind as to think quietly happy thoughts of no customer service issues today. and excuse the terrible mundanity of this missive; pickled brains don't do so well for the writing.

p.s.

considering tonight is my engagement party, i really shouldn't be in such a bad mood.

insomniac

i've been having trouble sleeping.

i think i can safely say that this is a by-product of the heaving quantities of stress i've been experiencing recently. work, in particular, has been a bit of a spectacle, leaving me perched, breathing shallowly, on the edge of my chair for hours at a time, waiting for the next catastrophe about which i can do nothing to strike. this has been the flavor of my week; far from an isolated incident, it is the hallmark of the last four days. my adrenal glands are so worked up that they're causing bulges in my feet.

in the words of my boss, 'this is no good.'

also not so good is my lingering trauma over the lineup of the band. when we started rehearsing, an executive decision was made for the good of the unit. someone was not happy about it. someone, in fact, was extremely unhappy about it. two people, actually, as i've spent the weeks since absolutely wracked with inconsolable guilt and the knowledge that in taking care of my band, i destroyed a friendship. a tenuous friendship, it now seems, judging from his total lack of hesitation to play hard on my guilty nature and make me feel as bad as possible (overkill, really, considering how bad i already feel), but a friendship nonetheless.

plus, i'm a little afraid of him. so that doesn't help.

add to that a few health concerns and the usual stable of money woes, and it makes for one tired, strung out little shivlet.

who has been spending a lot of her nights wide awake.

normal service will resume shortly.

so where have i been? i assure you, i've not been lost out in some sort of blissed out, pre-matrimonial fugue state (well, not entirely). no, i've been applying my noggin to a noisier pursuit: the rehearsal and general whipping into shape of the new band: THE SHIVERY. for the last two weeks, we have been slaves to rehearsal, practicing like fiends to get ready for the show on the 18th. as a result, we are on the fast track to being a lean, mean, rock and roll machine!

that's right. if you happen to be in the new york area next thursday, head on down to the c-note on ave c and 10th at 8pm, for some pure, unbridled rock and roll.

i mean, i'm going to be using a fuzzbox. tell me you're not interested in seeing that.

what does it say that...

with regards to being engaged, i find it stranger that i have committed to wearing the same ring for the rest of my life than that i have committed to the same person.

thank goodness the ring is absolutely beautiful.

bad, bad, bad!

i am having a bad day.

i'd say i'm having a bad week, but my entire country is having a bad week, so i'm not going to claim that for my own.

it started with a torn contact lens. moved on to a bad phone call with herr producer informing him that we've replaced him on drums (v badly played). moved even further to more delays on our current project at work, leading to lots and lots of screaming and yelling from the brass. later today, i'll try and salvage the situation with herr producer, which i'm pretty sure is going to get ugly. really ugly. really, really ugly.

it's 12:20. i'm starting to think i should just go home.

c'mon, kids.

we have record numbers hitting the polls today.

make sure you're one of them.

go make a difference. go make history.

GO VOTE.

oiling the wheels of democracy.

i voted this morning.

i dragged my ass out of bed at 6:15 this morning to make it to my polling station by 7am. and, judging from the crowd heaving its way around the gym at PS 282, so did most of the metropolitan area.

well done, new york voters!

well done, everyone who made it to the polling place early!

well done, election work volunteers!

and well done, voting machine for district 51, who decided around 7:23 that it was not going to let anyone else vote for hail to the chimp, and staged its own personal protest by developing a malfunction with that particular lever. sure, it slowed things down a bit. but what a display of conviction!

what are you going to do to help this country? if you are an american citizen over the age of eighteen, and your answer isn't VOTE...you need to stop reading this site. and don't come back. and while you're at it, staple your mouth shut, because that is, in effect, what you do by failing to vote.

it's that important, people.

so, let's think happier thoughts: who voted today? and who is going to before the polls close? let me know, give me hope for the future.

it's too important.

as one who's never really been uncomfortable with the spotlight, i'm going to have to say that tomorrow makes me a little nervous. tomorrow, the whole world is going to look to this corner of the globe to see if we're going to prove our mettle and vote the chimpanzee out of office. or vote at all.

i continue to find it no less than ludicrous that for a country so full of people hell bent on shoving democracy down the throats of every person on the globe, we still have an appallingly low voter turnout. who the fuck are we to foist our political system on others when we can't be trusted to use it ourselves? how dare we proseletyze about the merits of our system when we don't make the system work for us? you do no good for the ones who have been silenced by muting your own voice.

vote.

in my opinion, if you don't vote*, you need to shut the fuck up. you don't get to complain about how much you hate the government. you don't get to say how great the government is, how everyone should have one just like it. you don't get to say a damn thing. you want to yell and scream and shout to the rafters? put your money where your mouth is and take ten minutes out of your life to DO SOMETHING. vote. tell the world that you love democracy. tell the world that you hate dubya. tell the world that we're not all a bunch of fascistic, right wing freaks. or tell the world that you are, if that's what you genuinely feel is right. (i won't agree, but i support you declaring it). just do it.
vote.

as i said in july, people died for this democracy. people are still dying for this democracy. the very least you can do to honor their memories and their sacrifices is to exercise the rights they died to win for you. vote. stand up and be counted. set an example. do the right thing. change the world. don't ever think that your vote doesn't count, because it does, it really does. even if you're the lone dissenter in a partisan state, your vote counts. your vote keeps the system honest (and god knows, we need all the help we can get in that department), it keeps the system alive.

the fate of this country rests on your vote. it rests on every vote. every. single. vote. ten minutes of your time can change the fate of the world.

vote.

it means everything.

*this tirade, of course, does not apply to non-citizens and other people who i'm sure would give their eyeteeth to have a say in this election--i'm only speaking to american citizens with full voting rights.

and i didn't die once!

it would seem that my costume this weekend was more enigmatic than i'd anticipated. the following conjectures were made as to my identity:

1. trinity from the matrix
2. 'that girl from that show about the spies?' (sydney from alias)
3. emma peel (sadly, that was last year)
4. shiny!

and the true answer is that i was aeon flux. a fudged aeon flux, perhaps, in that i didn't quite see the merit in going out wearing nothing but vinyl hotpants and a bondage harness in october (as much for the sake of those around me as my own), but everyone's favorite monican agent provocateur nonetheless. and while only a select few really knew who i was, i still had a great evening. so good that i've been entertaining thoughts of cutting off my red tresses in favor of a black bob, much to dom's absolute horror.