I’ve decided that unless I actually have something to contribute, I’m not posting, because I noticed that some of my blogs come across as being almost completely useless. Nobody really needs a play-by-play of my life when there is nothing for either of us to learn from it. I am not the world at large, and therefore reports of current events of my life are completely ineffectual. For the time of yours that I have wasted, I apologize.
Most of this week has been dedicated to work and vocal practice. I’ve been listening to my set list pretty-well nonstop. I’m impressed by how quickly I picked up the reigns of Alanis’ work. I think with some love, I will actually be able to do it some justice. I need to just continue to remind myself to sing it as I would, and not try to produce a really great facsimile. Last night went to going to Rock Night, which has turned into a live-band open mic faster than any of us expected. It was mostly Rustbucket playing, with a few guest appearances. Noel played, and she was great. She did some Cranberries. She invited me to perform with her, but I was enjoying her performance so much on its own already, that I couldn’t bring myself to get up and change it. I went up and performed The Middle with Rustbucket. I’ve never performed with RJ before, so that was a pretty awesome thing. After the show, we all went to Timmy’s up at Cyber City for a few hours and talked. It was pretty awesome. Any time you get Glen, Mom and I together, it’s pretty much a genuine blast.
The big news of this week: I got my SOCAN papers yesterday! I signed my contract through ASCAP, and I am now officially a Songwriter. As of August 15th, I will be eligible to begin receiving royalty payments for every time a song of mine is performed or played. So come out to The Vault on Monday and Saturday nights! Check out my myspace! Keep listening! This is so completely awesome!
As a completely inconsequential sidebar– I bought Guitar Hero On Tour for the Nintendo DS yesterday. It’s awesome. If you have a DS, I highly recommend it. I need someone to duel.
On a more serious level, I’ve been doing some deep thinking again, which almost always either leads to spiritual enlightenment, or a nuclear holocaust. I’m a very animated person. I love living and expression with a fervent affluence that is hard to contain. There is a joy in being that I just can’t curb. Mom actually had the guts to tell me that the reason I can never seem to get past a certain point in relationships that I form is because of the faces I make. She says my facial expressions drive potential suitors away. How nice. Thanks Mom, for making me feel so completely wonderful about myself. I always thought being told by people that I was funny was a compliment, and now it just feels insulting. Someone just the other day told me that I reminded them of Jim Carrey. Normally I would have been flattered, because Jim Carrey is a great actor, and completely hilarious, but I was really left unnerved by it. I know it’s all in how I let myself be effected by something, but how do you take being told that people might actually like you if your face didn’t wreck it? If I have to hold in my personality in a fashion that implies I’m ashamed of myself just to be with someone, then I don’t want any part of it.
And for that matter, if I ever got involved in any way with someone who couldn’t see past the funny faces I make then they weren’t worth me anyway. I plan to enjoy my consummate aloneness. I’ve been the one who sweeps men off of their feet. I always end up coming back down to Earth rather unceremoniously. So you know what? Be prepared to do the sweeping or just fuck right off. I risk and I risk and I risk. My heart is a damned cliff-diver and I’m just waiting for the occasion when the safety net comes down and there is nothing left but a fatal accident waiting to happen. I’m frustrated absolutely with the state of my life sometimes, and in this department, I am absolutely fed up. I wish I was asexual and didn’t require anyone else but myself. I wouldn’t have to bear the weight of being smart, and funny, and beautiful, and "inspiring" (as so many people have put it), and still completely unable to measure up. No matter what I am, or what I do, or where life takes me, I still fall too short to qualify for that happiness.
Go and enjoy your one-demensional, closed-minded women, men of Earth. I’m going back to Venus, where people fucking understand me.
I gotta keep moving, I’ve done all I can do. I gotta believe it, ’cause we both know the truth — Goodbye Mr Beautiful, you’re someone I never knew.
I’m faking it, I’m pseudo-making it.