Tuesday, November 30, 2004

arahaghagahagh

To sum up my feelings about today: Christ on a bicycle, covered in jam, eaten by alligators I am just ready to explode.

Not only am I back in Dallas, with the mild annoyance of roommate issues and crazy dog stuff, with a bed STILL IN MY FUCKING DINING ROOM, zero local girlfriends with which discussions about vaginas and feminism can be had in person over coffee (and no, boys, please don't say that I can discuss my vagina over coffee with you at any time, because I will scream, and then I will murder you while you sleep with a broken CD. It will hurt, fucking badly I might add), dwindling finances, and the crazy feeling I get whenever I come back to this place that no one's got my back politically speaking (it's the weirdest thing- California feels so comfortable, so accepting of my liberal policies and eccentricities, and then minute I stepped off the plane in Texas all that happy feeling went crashing back down into the abyss (maybe Ed Harris can find it for me?))....

My horn....

My horn....

Oh fuck, it's fucking fucked. Fucked fucked fucked.

Crushed. And then twisted.

It's fixable...but...oh, my baby. My poor baby. You'll never be the same now, will you? And I'm so sorry I only practiced for...maybe five minutes while I was at home, you know I love you, don't you? I'm so fucking sorry. Oh lordisa this is bad. Oh puddle jumper airplanes, how I hate you. I will never ever never ever never fucking fly a one hour connection ever the fuck again.

Guess I'll be practicing bass for a few days, eh?

I'll show you a picture later, when I've recovered a little, and also my (MY!) computer is hooked up to the internet. It's already got a Youngblood sticker on it, I'm that excited about it.

That said, I did make out like a bandit at home. I got new clothes and a pea coat and a computer and Adobe Photoshop and $100 surrepitously handed to me by my father before leaving. Hung out with Natalie and Tara and Nick and Mikey C and Megan. Had a nice sexy dream about Jon Stewart. Ate a lot of sugary crap.

So, the $100 will not be going toward Eddie Izzard DVDs and rent as previously planned, but instead toward instrument repair. I was so upset I skipped out on my students today. I needed the recovery day, anyhow. Back in business tomorrow.