"Sad...

And day for me shall be like the night."

Victor Hugo. I always liked that poem ( Tomorrow At Dawn).

I've been sad for a long time now. I haven't been going out,
I've gained 20 pounds recently : (

Obviously I'm not happy about that, and I'm going to get rid of
that 20 before it turns into 25 or more! It was like a wake up call yesterday.
That was when I found out I'd gained 20 pounds. I knew I'd gained maybe 5 pounds,
but damn.
I also haven't been writing in my blog for long periods of time because of this sadness.
I've noticed that I tend to clam up when I get depressed. I get quiet, I don't write,
apparently I eat too much. Although in recent times past I've been so sad that I wasn't hungry.
For weeks, months, years. Just lately I've been turning to food for comfort,
and I have to stop that.
That's why I'm here writing, at this moment. I'm forcing myself, basically.
Maybe talking about it will make me more aware of it on a conscious level.

I know this is all a self -perpetuating cycle, I see it.
Sadness, followed by eating too much, I gain weight and now I am even more unhappy,
and self-conscious. So I stop going out on Saturday nights. Stop singing. Which
makes me even more depressed. Too depressed to write in my blog. Which just makes it worse.
Like I said, that's why I'm writing this. I need to stop this cycle.
There are reasons that I'm sad, things I'm trying to get over. There is validity to my sadness.
But I'm working on it, I really am.

You know You Live In A Bad Neighborhood When...

I was just amusing myself with Jeff Foxworthy-esque
observations about the old neighborhoods I've lived in.
You know you live in a bad neighborhood when:

The liquor stores up the street sell individual cigarettes.
The fact that there are liquor stores up the street.
There are check cashing places everywhere. And thr ground around the
liquor stores are always littered with used lottery tickets. Scratchers.
A lot of really poor poor people play the lottery a lot.
At the bus stop, you risk a turf war - prostitutes ask you if you're
a new ho.
The sidewalk you take to go home keeps getting blocked by prostitute
knife fights or bum fights.
Bullets rain down on your roof on New Year's Eve.Heh, there's a whole story there.

If I think of more of these I'll post them. : )

Cisco Kid Was A Friend Of Mine...

When I mentioned 40 ouncers in my previous post, I probably
meant Cisco. Bottles of Cisco. I even drank Cisco, if I was in the mood
to tie one on.
Cisco was your basic fortified wine, stronger than Boone's farm.
Everyone in the neighborhood drank Ciscos of all flavors.
Cisco would mess you up, for a buck and a half.

So to be completely accurate, I'd have to say that the pimps and Hos were
actually drinking Cisco at the bus stop at 6, 7 a.m.
Cisco, the breakfast drink of whoring champions!

Bus Adventures...

During the Michael Jackson trial recently, comedian George Lopez
made a joke, referred to people who rode the LA transit as "War Veterans".
I had to laugh, because I have indeed taken the LA buses, and other
buses around Southern California. I didn't learn how to drive until I was
about 25.
So I put in a lot of time on various buses, and at various bus stops.
Many funny and terrifying things happened. One terrifying aspect is that
men were always trying to pick me up from the bus stops, and sometimes they
were very aggressive and scary.
In rougher neighborhoods I would get "Johns" trying to pick me up all the time.
But they were harmless, as it turned out. The really scary stuff happened in
so-called better parts of town. Twice, not once but TWICE, in LA and also down
here, men of middle Eastern descent in expensive cars acted like practically serial
killers trying to pick me up. One man tried to pick me up at the bustop, I
politely declined, my bus came, I got on the bus. Went to work, several miles away.
I get off the bus, guy pops up from nowhere and says " I just wanted to talk to you!"
Turned out he'd followed the bus! Aaaahhhh!!!
My boss actually called the police.
The other middle- eastern- descent- driving- a- fancy- car- scary- guy was down here
in San Diego, Mission Valley area.
I'm at a bus stop, guy pulls up, asks if I want a ride. I say no. Politely decline.
He proceeds to try and talk me into it, and the scary part was that he got uglier about
it, started calling me names like whore and stuff. Actually started to get out of his car,
I neglected to mention that no one was around, it was a secluded, empty area. He obviously
realized it. He was really mad that I wouldn't agree to take a ride with him, and it seemed
that he was going to take matters into his own hands...

I was going to run, or fight, but it didn't get to that point. Fortunately, right as things were
going to get bad( he was getting out of his car), we both saw a big white guy in a cowboy
hat walking towards me ( the bus stop). It was funny because this was the perfect guy to
happen to show up, as far as looks. Big scary redneck-looking guy.
Scary fancy car guy glared at me but took off.

When redneck guy walked up I said " Whew! I'm so glad to see you! Things almost got
really bad there!"
And the redneck guy says " I got a new pair of jeans!"
And I look at him, and all at once I realize that he's mentally challenged. And in fact, turns out
to be really sweet. A good boy of about 10 years old.
But for the purposes of saving my ass from the scary weirdo, he couldn't have looked more
suitable.

When I used to ride the buses in LA, you would see the name "Chaka" tagged everywhere.
This was hilarious because every bus," Chaka". And I always thought of the little guy from Land of the Lost. That old TV show.
There was this dude from the old hood that had Robert Plant hair but an ugly face, and we all
called him Chaka. : )
So when I would see the name Chaka scrawled everywhere, it would make me smile...

One day I was watching KTLA news, and there was a smiling, sweet- faced Mexican youth
surrounded by reporters, on his way to the courthouse. It was Chaka.
Chaka, as it turns out, was trying to make a name for himself as the most prolific tagger.
And apparently he'd succeeded, because here he was surrounded by the media and brought
up on charges.
What actually happened, if I recall correctly: he was leaving the courthouse after being
sentenced for his tagging crimes. And he tagged "Chaka" in the elevator, and got busted right then, AGAIN! LOL
I'd swear that really happened!

Another funny thing about riding the bus at this time was the hair juice. Those unfamiliar
with the ways of riding the bus could be in for a face full of hair juice, if they didn't watch out.
Here and there, on all the windows, would be these little greasy puffball marks. If you didn't
know, and fell asleep with your head against the window, you'd get this greasy goo on you. Hair juice, from everyone's Jeri curls, where they fell asleep with their heads against the window.
It was the 80's-90's. People were all wearing jeri curls back then.

The prostitutes in the old neighborhood used to stand under a sign across the street, the "Goodbody's Mortuary" sign. Not kidding. I'm sure they realized the joke. I always meant to
take a camera and get pictures of that...
I used to have to take the bus early in the morning, sit at the bus stop on the boulevard and watch the hos glare at me, and the johns try to pick up on me. Finally the ladies sent an
emissary to question me. " You workin?"

This was when I first appeared on the boulevard. They didn't know what to think. Was I
a new ho? Or was I taking the bus, legit? The bus stops were also for Ho business.
And yet they were smart enough to not confront me in a fighting
manner. I'm fairly tall, and unafraid of a few sucked-up crack hos. And they must have
known that. I was looking at them just as much as they were looking at me, curious. But finally one of the hos came over and asked me. " You working?"
Once they found out I was ok, not "working" they relaxed. Came over and chatted and bummed cigs out of me.
I got to recognize them pretty well. The Latina with beautiful legs and a messed up face.
I remember when I first saw her, short black skirt and beautiful body. She turned around
and yikes. Bad acne scars, really bad. All over.
The older hos, the fat hos. The sucked- up scrawny hos.
I was probably the only white girl that could
walk in my neighborhood completely unmolested or disrespected, after dark. The only other
white girl I'd seen was a ho, in a fight with another ho. She had a stick, the other one had a knife.
That was up close and personal, too. I was walking down the street when they came up close to me( Accidentally. They only had eyes for each other).


But anyway, I became familiar with the ladies.
An awful incident happened one morning when the pimp was there...

We were all at the bustop, they had forty ouncers, I had cigarettes. A regular six a.m. party.
For them, anyway.
So we are talking, I think I was telling this one grandmother how young she really did look,
etc. Passing the time.
Suddenly, from behind, someone pushes me. I turn around, and it's someone I've never seen
before. A dweebish looking white guy with glasses. He has an expression of unpleasant surprise
on his face.
" Oh! I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else!"
That's ok, I say.
Except it wasn't ok, to pimp guy. Older black man. I guess he felt kind of pretective of me,
something, because as my bus pulled up I said " I have to go, you guys! Bye!"
They were literally beating the crap out of that guy. And I couldn't prevent it because I had to go! I think I may have said " Oh no, it's ok!"trying to stop them when they were advancing on the guy. But they were set on defending me, apparently.

I think that was actually rather sweet, in a twisted way. They were looking out for me, trying
to protect me. I had apparently inspired their sense of honor. : )
Ah, riding the bus.

"Blinded By The Light...

Wrapped up like a douche unto the rumor in the night."
I was remembering something that happened to me last year, it's funny
after the fact. There's been a lot of thunder and lightening here just
lately, some pretty good storms. This is the story of what happened to
my old computer....

It was raining, raining hard. My computer was underneath a window.
I walked to the window, opened it a little, looked out at the night sky.
Felt the rain on my face, smelled the air... A faint rumbling sounded from
above. Didn't seem all that loud...
BLAM!!!!
The lightening struck right in front of me, the force drove me back onto
my bed, where I discovered that I couldn't see a thing.
Seriously, I was completely blinded for about 10 minutes. All I could see
in front of my eyes was white. I kept thinking that if I blinked and rested
my eyes, my vision would come back. But I'd blink and open my eyes, still white.
Just bright white.
I started crying, and was contemplating calling 911, because my vision just wasn't
coming back! It was going on far too long!
Finally when I really was going to call for help, my vision started coming back.
Maybe the crying helped.

When I DID get my vision back, I saw that something had happened with my
computer. Something terribly wrong.
It never did work right after that. It would just crash over and over, and every time
it would crash, huge chunks of stuff would disappear with it.
I had nothing on backup disks.
I had people try to fix it, but it was just fried. Seriously, the lightening struck my computer and almost struck me, and literally DID blind me for several minutes.

I can see the humor of the lightening incident now, but at the time it was scary as hell.
I suppose I sound like an idiot, but you don't understand - there was no warning with
that thunder and lightening! I would've turned my computer off long before then. I
know to do that in times of thunder and lightening. . . this just came from out of nowhere!
It didn't give me a chance!

Kind of Exciting...

I just got a call from a guy that has a band, he owns a
studio and is also a kareoke DJ. That's how I met the guy in the first
place. He heard me sing a few different songs, and I'd asked him to help
me record my demo. So he remembered that I play guitar also, and the girl
that they had singing for them previously doesn't know how to harmonize or
play guitar.
So he asked me to come over and sit in with his band, explained what kind of
stuff they do.
They've apparently even had paying gigs before! One of the guys in the band also
owns a studio. Two different studios.
This is kinda exciting for me.
He's supposed to call me some time this week to set up a jam session.
It will feel good to be jamming with people again. And
maybe I really will finally get my demo off the ground. I hope!

Kareoke List...

It's hard for me to remember songs to do when I'm actually
there at the bar. Maybe it's a combination of booze and fear.
And distraction of talking to various people.

Black
Jeremy
Interstate Love Song
Burden In My Hand
Someday We'll Be Together
Help me
War Pigs
Fairies Wear Boots
TakeMe To The River
Magic Man
Dreamboat Annie
When The Levee Breaks
Cheap Sunglasses
Wedding Bell Blues
Long Distance Runaround
Can't Find my Way Home
Time
Have A Cigar
Suicide Solution
Voices Carry
Let It Rain
My Favorite Mistake
Are You Gonna Go My Way?
The Little Pigs
Easy To Be Hard
Desire
With Or Without You
White Room
Ziggy Stardus And The Spiders From Mars
Feelin' Alright
Life's Been Good To Me So Far
Big Yellow Taxi
Reelin' In The Years
Beginnings
Saturday In The Park
Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?
Whipping Post
Jazz Man
Remedy
Miss Independent
No One Knows
Rock And Roll All Night
Bridge Over Troubled Water
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
Sarah
Horse With No Name
Love Song
Mr.Crowley

I've done some of these more than once. I've also done a lot of songs
with other people, where I do, say, the falsetto for "Bohemian Rhapsody".
I sang a Bee Gee song with a couple of other ladies, and it was fun.
People have put their own names in, went up to sing, got the mic,
came over to me and pushed their mic into my hands and said " Oops!
I dropped my mic!" And I was stuck singing whatever they wanted.
I only mention that because I'm blanking on a lot of songs, because they
were other people's choices. I wound up doing "Miss Independent" that way.
I didn't even know I was going to do it when I walked up there.
I hadn't even put my name in to sing!
It's terrifying.

Kareoke Update...

This list grows ever longer and what an eclectic
mix it is. I lost my original piece of paper that I'd
written all my songs on. There have been a lot of
songs added since then, anyway.

Last night I took a chance and did an extreme oldie, everyone
in the bar seemed to be in that mood. Usually I shake
things up when it's like that, but last night I went with the flow.
Did " Someday we'll be together" by The Supremes, to start with.
People seemed to like it, even though I literally hadn't heard that song
in about 20 years, and definitely hadn't practiced it ahead of time.

I can't remember the second song I did. I'm too overjoyed by the
response to the 3rd song that I did.
"Have a Cigar" by Pink Floyd. : )
A couple of weeks ago I did "Time" (also by Pink Floyd) and got some
of the most rousing and extended applause I have ever gotten. The same night
I did "Can't Find My Way Home" by Blind Faith, and kicked ass! Got the same
kind of extreme response. That was probably hands down the best night in kareoke
that I'd ever had, and that includes War Pigs and Fairies Wear Boots! Those are my
prior biggest responses. Bring the house down type stuff.

This stuff has saved my life in recent times, and I know how hokey and dumb that sounds.
And the side effect that I didn't count on - my voice is getting that much more
controlled and polished. I'm hitting extended high notes that go on forever. I'm picking up
certain vocal techniques, all kinds of stuff. It isn't that I couldn't sing before, it's more
that I'm that much better these days, with all the practice and variety of songs.

I still need to make a list of all the songs I've done. It's good for me, because I can refer
to them in a pinch if I can't come up with ideas on kareoke nights. I should do it here,
since I lost the original piece of paper with the handwritten list.

Part of the rush is the conquering of deep, hard-core fear( and then the accolades). And for me, personally,
it never gets easier. Every single damned time, I have to go through that all over again.
Jimmy Page has said that he frequently puked before going on stage, that it never got
easier for him. And that's Jimmy Page!
I never thought I'd get to know what it feels like to have waves of human cheers wash over me.
It's very healing. People coming up to me raving, asking me to sing more, people even getting moved, emotional. I am making them feel things. I am making them happy. I am affecting people, no matter how small or inconsequential it really is. And it's healing me in return.

Quatildus Revisited...

I just feel sad and tired when things like this happen.
I told anyone that might be reading in a previous post, that
there became a need for for the word "Quatildus" as my life went
on.
It's so frustrating. Sometimes I am so specific with what is going to happen,
and timely, and yet I still can't stop what happens. Like when I said that my
car was going to get hit and run, for some reason ONE night parked it in a different place,
where I thought it would be safe, and THAT NIGHT it got badly damaged.. And many many other examples.
I just feel tired and disgusted right now. In the case of my car, I'd been telling all my neighbors
it was going to happen, in advance so that they came up to me after my car got hit, and said
" Wow, you just said this was going to happen a few days ago!"
I'm not kidding, my neighbors even remembered it and brought it up after. I'd been spewing
about a hit and run for a month before it happened.

I have to stop thinking of this subject, it's depressing.

" I Think Something's Going to Happen" Part 2...

I dunno, I personally think I predicted the Katrina chaos.
I felt something coming, but I just couldn't pin down what it was!
It's so frustrating when I can't pinpoint what exactly it's going to be,
and yet I feel it so strongly.
If you check out my blog from 2 weeks ago, it'll make more sense.

I predicted Mike's death, exactly 3 months to the day of his death I wrote
a friend an email, and said " I'm crying, and I can't believe the depth of feeling!
I can't stop thinking about Mike, so strongly and out of the blue -I can't help but think that he may be dead!


I know it might sound crazy, but I DO have some sort of inner radar thing.
Just two weeks ago I was wanting to buy MRE's, asking about them, and was thinking that I needed to get some bottled water. Was complaining that I'm not prepared.
I'm glad I'm writing this stuff here at my blog. It's proof of a sorts.
I'm sorry that something happened, though. I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd
known exactly what was going to happen. Quatildus.
Make more sense now? Quatildus?