Jesus H. Christ
So, it's been awhile.
Life is way too fucking complicated. Have a "boyfriend." Sad I can't really, fully call him my boyfriend, and be confident in the statement. Stuff is way too complicated with us, but I really love this kid. Looks like travis, from Gym Class Heroes, just with HUGE BLUE EYES.
Just got fired, essentially for being really sick and having to go to the hospital. Job outlook is dismal, at best.
I miss Cali. I really wanna visit, but it's so far, and so much money. My car is a steaming pile of crap, as usual. I really feel like retail therapy would totally be the answer, however, it's not.
Finally seeing my parents for the first time in about 7 months, next week. Excited, but scared. I feel like I'm not doing enough to make them proud. Although, I think the moving to another state, and making it all work, even if it's hard at times, makes them proud, I don't think it's the life they want me to be living. Hard feeling like a disappointment to everyone, when you already disappoint yourself.
The thing about Cali, and why I'm so frustrated, is that... I miss the bands, the shows, the city, the beach, the trees... I miss seeing... the familiar. The streets I drove down every day, my elementary school, my high school, my family.. On the other hand, since I left my closest friends have left the area, my parents lost their house and moved in with my grandma.
In the back of my head, I keep thinking about the old Anti-45 shows, at the Rec in HMB, and WLMU shows at the Rec in Millbrae. Or going to see the Matches, when they were the Locals at B-street, and doing a Jig with Jon. The summer Alex's mom drove all the way out into the middle of the wilderness, picked me up and DROVE me to the Fillmore, where we interviewed the matches on a street corner, while Shawn tried to eat green beans with a metal fork on a paper plate and in between stabbing his hand, got completely scared shitless by a guy who walked up behind him with a large wooden tray of bobble head chihuahuas. Or, trying to ask Aaron (now of Wakefield) about how stuff ended with GC, while his little brother was hitting on us... It's the shit like that... that fueled my dreams to be a music journalist, to start a clothing company, to research local bands around the world and bring them to SF and produce shows, like I did with Semi-Automatix.
But music made me arrogant. The local shows, turned into the local scene. Then everyone was better than everyone else, and kids enjoyed lighting the curtains of Rec Centers on fire, just to be fucking rebellious, not realizing that they were destroying the local scene. High School bands graduated, some of them went of to college. Some of them went on to major labels like Epitaph and Warner Brothers. I lost track of the bands, and the people who connected me to the music. And eventually, I was a nobody again, and I fucking miss being the girl who promotes for shows. I miss being the girl who hangs out in the Limo's with bands, and has them say, "Holy shit, you were the girl in the pit yesterday who got the shit beaten out of you, and was laying on the ground still singing along. I watching the way you felt the music, more than I think anyone in that crowd enjoyed watching us." (Chad, New Found Glory, Shai Halud)
It just kind of.. ended for me. I want to be that girl again. I want to go to shows. I want to promote the bands. I want to bring them together. I want to be the first one to know that the Matches got signed to Epitaph, all fucking over again. I want that so bad, and without that, my life feels fucking pointless and meaningless and gets caught up in bullshit drama with guys. Then, I didn't need the guys to be happy, I had my art, my website, my clothes, my music, my friends. Now I feel like I have nothing, and I feel like without the bay, I have less than nothing.
I feel like if I go home, I'll just be disappointed, because nothing is the same. Maybe I missed my shot in the bay. I'm sure I could do tons in the bay if I tried, and could afford it. But I feel like there's some reason I have to stay here.
They say if you can make it in NY, you can make it anywhere. I think that's bullshit. There's so few opportunities in the middle of the god forsaken desert, I think that if you can make yourself a life here in Vegas, THEN you can truly make something from nothing, and do anything, anywhere, anytime.
Perhaps that's what I needed to figure out. Now, I just need to make something out of my life here.
Someone come visit. And bring food. I'm poor.
Life is way too fucking complicated. Have a "boyfriend." Sad I can't really, fully call him my boyfriend, and be confident in the statement. Stuff is way too complicated with us, but I really love this kid. Looks like travis, from Gym Class Heroes, just with HUGE BLUE EYES.
Just got fired, essentially for being really sick and having to go to the hospital. Job outlook is dismal, at best.
I miss Cali. I really wanna visit, but it's so far, and so much money. My car is a steaming pile of crap, as usual. I really feel like retail therapy would totally be the answer, however, it's not.
Finally seeing my parents for the first time in about 7 months, next week. Excited, but scared. I feel like I'm not doing enough to make them proud. Although, I think the moving to another state, and making it all work, even if it's hard at times, makes them proud, I don't think it's the life they want me to be living. Hard feeling like a disappointment to everyone, when you already disappoint yourself.
The thing about Cali, and why I'm so frustrated, is that... I miss the bands, the shows, the city, the beach, the trees... I miss seeing... the familiar. The streets I drove down every day, my elementary school, my high school, my family.. On the other hand, since I left my closest friends have left the area, my parents lost their house and moved in with my grandma.
In the back of my head, I keep thinking about the old Anti-45 shows, at the Rec in HMB, and WLMU shows at the Rec in Millbrae. Or going to see the Matches, when they were the Locals at B-street, and doing a Jig with Jon. The summer Alex's mom drove all the way out into the middle of the wilderness, picked me up and DROVE me to the Fillmore, where we interviewed the matches on a street corner, while Shawn tried to eat green beans with a metal fork on a paper plate and in between stabbing his hand, got completely scared shitless by a guy who walked up behind him with a large wooden tray of bobble head chihuahuas. Or, trying to ask Aaron (now of Wakefield) about how stuff ended with GC, while his little brother was hitting on us... It's the shit like that... that fueled my dreams to be a music journalist, to start a clothing company, to research local bands around the world and bring them to SF and produce shows, like I did with Semi-Automatix.
But music made me arrogant. The local shows, turned into the local scene. Then everyone was better than everyone else, and kids enjoyed lighting the curtains of Rec Centers on fire, just to be fucking rebellious, not realizing that they were destroying the local scene. High School bands graduated, some of them went of to college. Some of them went on to major labels like Epitaph and Warner Brothers. I lost track of the bands, and the people who connected me to the music. And eventually, I was a nobody again, and I fucking miss being the girl who promotes for shows. I miss being the girl who hangs out in the Limo's with bands, and has them say, "Holy shit, you were the girl in the pit yesterday who got the shit beaten out of you, and was laying on the ground still singing along. I watching the way you felt the music, more than I think anyone in that crowd enjoyed watching us." (Chad, New Found Glory, Shai Halud)
It just kind of.. ended for me. I want to be that girl again. I want to go to shows. I want to promote the bands. I want to bring them together. I want to be the first one to know that the Matches got signed to Epitaph, all fucking over again. I want that so bad, and without that, my life feels fucking pointless and meaningless and gets caught up in bullshit drama with guys. Then, I didn't need the guys to be happy, I had my art, my website, my clothes, my music, my friends. Now I feel like I have nothing, and I feel like without the bay, I have less than nothing.
I feel like if I go home, I'll just be disappointed, because nothing is the same. Maybe I missed my shot in the bay. I'm sure I could do tons in the bay if I tried, and could afford it. But I feel like there's some reason I have to stay here.
They say if you can make it in NY, you can make it anywhere. I think that's bullshit. There's so few opportunities in the middle of the god forsaken desert, I think that if you can make yourself a life here in Vegas, THEN you can truly make something from nothing, and do anything, anywhere, anytime.
Perhaps that's what I needed to figure out. Now, I just need to make something out of my life here.
Someone come visit. And bring food. I'm poor.