(no subject)
I'm kinda having a weird blogger's block as of the moment. Stuff have been alternating between great and not-great the past few weeks. I am kinda finding a sort of middle ground for the not-great, though. I hope that clears up eventually.
I feel blocked, I guess, because I don't want to talk about what's bugging me and because of that, I don't want to talk about anything else. For example, I am alternating writing this journal entry and watching that movie with Brendan Fraser and Alicia Silverstone where he's lived 35 years in a bomb shelter. I'm watching more of the movie than I am writing anything. Plus, I'm biting my nails. Escapism extreme, I'd say.
Oh, sorry, fall-out shelter. There's a difference, Brendan Fraser said.
And by the way, John Travolta said Pierce Bronson at the Golden Globes, I wonder if he noticed. He, being either of them.
Okay, now the movie is over and I have to sleep now.
So, here goes. My problem is I'm too touchy about stuff. Well, particular stuff. And this has then pervaded to an all-consuming thing that really feels like it's grown to include everything around me. But it hasn't. Not everything is affected by it, or if some people think it has, they're wrong. Since I'm one of those people (there are, after all, only two of us), that means I am wrong too. It just feels like it. Which makes me touchier. I just have to remind myself that I can fix this. Maybe not the stuff that I was initially touchy about but I can fix everything else.
Part of the reason why I'm so cryptic is because I'm ashamed to say what it is out loud. That should also remind me how dumb it is, actually. Another part of the reason why I'm so cryptic is because nobody really needs to understand all that I just wrote. I did this for myself.
--
Now, I'm able to blog. I just want to share that I had this dream the other day that the Itchyworms asked me to join their band. Because Cueshe had a Vinci. And Parokya and Cueshe have two vocalists each, one playing guitar and one not doing anything except sing and not all that well, so the idea was the Worms had 3 vocalists, two who play guitar and me. See how logical it would be in my dream?
So, we're at this gig and I remember being so stoked that I was singing for the Itchyworms (not all that well, may I reiterate), except for this one song (which of course I don't remember) which I have to sit out because Tori Amos is jamming with them on that song. My former boss, who is no longer with the record company we worked for, said to me, "Do they realize what a big deal this is?" And I scoff and reply, "Sure they do."
When I mention it to Jazz after the gig, he gives this, "What?" face and says, "But we're not going to make any money off her anyway." When he said that, I knew right away I was dreaming. And I woke up.
I swear, I'm more creative subconsciously, it's eerie.
--
By the way, all jazz lovers out there, Mikah is playing at the Jazz Festival on Saturday at Harbor View, which is right beside the CCP, overlooking Manila Bay. He's got three slots - he plays for Quail Quartet at 3-ish, H30 at 5-ish and Aquarella (I know!! Dang!) at 9-ish. Then, he'll head off somewhere near Walter Mart to play for Helen. I don't know who else is playing, though I overheard Butch Silverio (is that his last name?) tell his Jazz Phil Ensemble friends that they're playing the Jazz Fest, yay! And I'm pretty sure Johnny Allegre and Affinity will be there, too, but Mikah won't tell me what time. *pout*
The Jazz Festival is actually Saturday and Sunday, but Mikah's only playing Saturday and I'm pimping out my boyfriend rather than the event. Someday, I'll pimp him out for money. I do want a wedding dress, even if we're getting hitched in Fucking, Austria. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
I feel blocked, I guess, because I don't want to talk about what's bugging me and because of that, I don't want to talk about anything else. For example, I am alternating writing this journal entry and watching that movie with Brendan Fraser and Alicia Silverstone where he's lived 35 years in a bomb shelter. I'm watching more of the movie than I am writing anything. Plus, I'm biting my nails. Escapism extreme, I'd say.
Oh, sorry, fall-out shelter. There's a difference, Brendan Fraser said.
And by the way, John Travolta said Pierce Bronson at the Golden Globes, I wonder if he noticed. He, being either of them.
Okay, now the movie is over and I have to sleep now.
So, here goes. My problem is I'm too touchy about stuff. Well, particular stuff. And this has then pervaded to an all-consuming thing that really feels like it's grown to include everything around me. But it hasn't. Not everything is affected by it, or if some people think it has, they're wrong. Since I'm one of those people (there are, after all, only two of us), that means I am wrong too. It just feels like it. Which makes me touchier. I just have to remind myself that I can fix this. Maybe not the stuff that I was initially touchy about but I can fix everything else.
Part of the reason why I'm so cryptic is because I'm ashamed to say what it is out loud. That should also remind me how dumb it is, actually. Another part of the reason why I'm so cryptic is because nobody really needs to understand all that I just wrote. I did this for myself.
--
Now, I'm able to blog. I just want to share that I had this dream the other day that the Itchyworms asked me to join their band. Because Cueshe had a Vinci. And Parokya and Cueshe have two vocalists each, one playing guitar and one not doing anything except sing and not all that well, so the idea was the Worms had 3 vocalists, two who play guitar and me. See how logical it would be in my dream?
So, we're at this gig and I remember being so stoked that I was singing for the Itchyworms (not all that well, may I reiterate), except for this one song (which of course I don't remember) which I have to sit out because Tori Amos is jamming with them on that song. My former boss, who is no longer with the record company we worked for, said to me, "Do they realize what a big deal this is?" And I scoff and reply, "Sure they do."
When I mention it to Jazz after the gig, he gives this, "What?" face and says, "But we're not going to make any money off her anyway." When he said that, I knew right away I was dreaming. And I woke up.
I swear, I'm more creative subconsciously, it's eerie.
--
By the way, all jazz lovers out there, Mikah is playing at the Jazz Festival on Saturday at Harbor View, which is right beside the CCP, overlooking Manila Bay. He's got three slots - he plays for Quail Quartet at 3-ish, H30 at 5-ish and Aquarella (I know!! Dang!) at 9-ish. Then, he'll head off somewhere near Walter Mart to play for Helen. I don't know who else is playing, though I overheard Butch Silverio (is that his last name?) tell his Jazz Phil Ensemble friends that they're playing the Jazz Fest, yay! And I'm pretty sure Johnny Allegre and Affinity will be there, too, but Mikah won't tell me what time. *pout*
The Jazz Festival is actually Saturday and Sunday, but Mikah's only playing Saturday and I'm pimping out my boyfriend rather than the event. Someday, I'll pimp him out for money. I do want a wedding dress, even if we're getting hitched in Fucking, Austria. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.