graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I need a distraction Going back to work today sucked. Everything sucks right now. I feel like I gave up smoking or something. This break from my friend is harder than I thought. It fucking sucks. SUCKS. It's still February, isn't it? Maybe that's it. I just can't pull my shit together. I shouldn't be having this problem just because I am no longer e-mailing or speaking with someone who doesn't even live in this country. Clearly it's more than that. I mean, I do hate my job right now. It's not even hate, it's complete and utter boredom. I am filled with boredom. Throughout the day I just sit and stare out my office window. One of my friends told me that I just need a new distraction. I think she's right. I went to Cat Power last night. That irritated me to the 9th degree. Showtime was 8PM and she went on at 10:30PM. During the 2.5hr prelude, I saw two almost mediocre bands, the first of which essentially tuned their instruments onstage for 4 songs and then walked off. In bewteen this torture I was subjected to Morrisey videos from Top of the Pops. About the 6th song into it, my mind wandered toward fantasies of having tomatoes in my pockets to throw at the screen. Or perhaps a water gun to shoot at it. Morrisey is such a fucking freak. And this is coming from the Pipe Piper of legions of queens and dykes in this city. That mary drives me insane with his ego and his stupid dancing. I didn't like him in the 80's and I don't like him now. I mean, The Boy with the Thorn in his Side? Ask? What the heck is Morrisey doing in that toga with the branches in his back pocket... I hate 80's music. I hated it in the 80's. It drives me to the brink. So by the time Cat got off her ass and came onstage, I was fully irritated, thinking about using my keys to tear apart the screen. And then there was an argument in the back of the room where I was standing. Let me explain. You can't hear Cat Power to begin with. I mean, you can hear her sing, but you can't hear her speak. She's so soft spoken. To make matters worse, you definitely can't see her, because she sits when she plays. So here she's sitting on that miniscule stage at the Knitting Factory, I can't see for shit because everyone in this town is a goddamn supermodel - I swear minimum height requirement to get over a bridge or thru a tunnel is 5'9" - and for some reason I wore these ballet flats, so I am all of just about 5'6", jumping up and down to get a glimpse of this performer who I have desperately tried to see live forever and a day now. My contacts are drying out after 2.5 hours of Morrisey torture in a blacked out, packed, airless and windowless room people are pushing and shoving to get in closer - hello, there is no closer, this is IT people, it's the knitting factory, you can fit about 100 people in here - and it's just getting hotter and hotter. I heard about 35 minutes of her set and I walked out. And the first two songs they had a mic problem that blasted deafening feedback. Huge disappointment. I need to see her at another venue. I am unsatisfied. Tonight I suggested to my roommate that I try to contract some dangerous but not critical virus that could leave me passed out in our hallway in the middle of the night. Then she could find me and have to take me to the hospital and because my family wouldn't be able to make it up here for a few days, she would be required to stay with me while I was unconscious in the hospital and we would be both be exempt from at least a week of work. And maybe if the virus turned into a rash or something we could get out of a second week of work because then she and I would BOTH have to go into QUARANTINE. YES! So I shared this brainchild of an idea and then she looked at me and with faux enthusiasm replied, "Yeah! And then we could both get 4.0's for the semester!" Silence. "It's come to this hasn't it? I've just completed a full circle. I've reverted back to college when this was my brainchild of getting out of class and exams. This is very bad." So I've now shut myself into my room. I still think the illness might work. Or maybe a fall resulting in a broken bone, nothing major, like a hip. Maybe just an ankle. That could take me out for a few weeks and mean working at home. I'm reaching a point of desparation. It's this month. It makes me crazy. God, I hate February. I need a distraction. 9:13 p.m. - 2004-02-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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