Perhaps I can appease my fan base by constantly changing the layout and never really updating. Will that fool you?

No, I apologise again. I don't know what's wrong with me. I used to write in here avidly and now it's incredibly difficult to bring myself to do it. I think it's because I've stopped being open with this as I used to be. I used to parade the site around, give it out to anybody who wanted it, and then I started becoming more secretive and reserved with who got to see it. I don't really know why. I know it got really bad when I had both Tommy and the old landlord from my first NYC apartment reading this and commenting whenever they felt.

And then C.S. and I began dating, and I certainly didn't want him to come in here and begin reading, but I don't really know why. Yet I think it's because of him that I really began completely cutting off my contact. But. I am tentatively and hesitantly putting my foot back in the website door, because I think I'm pulling out of whatever slump I was in for that past couple of months.

But to take care of that residual fear I am going to run through and make sure there isn't anything in here I don't know if he should read, and then give him the address. Whether it turns out like another Tommy episode or not, but I don't think it will, because he is so much better than Tommy in a hundred thousand ways. I mean, it's not like anything I'd write in here he hasn't seen, and it's not like anything I'd write in here I wouldn't tell him anyway.

I am about to begin the incredibly long and stressful process of bringing back the old-old entries that I took down right after I moved in with my parents. Because there's this chunk of the journal missing and I want that part resurrected. But it's gonna be long. And hard.

I'm moving again tonight. In a place that (unless things change, and hopefully on the positive side) I'll be in for the next three weeks. And after that… well, I don't know yet. We'll see.

29 June 2003 at 8:15 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

Days like today are a good example of why I love living in New York City. Furthermore, today will go down in the record book of my life as Significant. Can't really tell you why or just how much, but it's a feeling. Today was Significiant with a big S.

Precursor: I didn't sleep again last night, and I'm just coming back to life after a several-hour-nap. Forgive me if I sputter off into incoherencies.

SO, anyway. As I said, I didn't go to bed yesterday. The reason for that was that I had to be at work for 10 AM, so I just said "fuck sleep," as opposed to going to bed and fighting myself up in time for the train. So, around 8 I was awake and prepared and ready, so I said, "what the hey, let's go to work now." So I left. At some point around 9 I had decided to take a detour into Times Square, just for the hell of it. So I wandered around for a little while, and eventually found myself outside of the epic-sized Virgin Mega Store (somewhere around 44th and Broadway, I think).

As soon as I got within range, I was accosted by a large black man. "Hey, do you like hip-hop music?"

I figured he was a regular street vendour, so my reply was a terse, "No thank you, I'm not interested." Large Black Man was not to be hedged-off so easily. He came over and begged me to stay for a second. Again I declined and started to walk away, but he caught up and finally I gave in.

I imagine it's a good thing I did, because he ended up being a musician trying to get his stuff out. So I stopped and listened to his stuff for a brief moment. I don't even remember what it sounded like, but he was a nice guy and very un-thugish, so I decided to purchase a cd. Who knows if I'll even listen to it, but I was helping the "cause."

I told him I was a musician myself and he said, "Oh, that's probably why you stopped then." So he jotted his email and phone number on the back of the cd case, and told me to get in touch if I liked it. So. We'll see.

Then. Fast forward. After work I was on the subway headed back uptown, back towards Harlem and where I'm now. At some point during my journey I decided to fade into unconsciousness, and a girl got on the train and sat down next to me. I recall falling asleep on her at least three times before I realized what I was doing and scolded myself. She said it was quite all right and smiled at me. I recall she was very pretty.

A few moments later she tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Are you a musician?"

I raised an eyebrow and said yes, though I didn't see why anything in my demeanour would suggest that.

She laughed. "Somehow I just had a feeling that you were. I am too." So apparently she was in the city trying to find a producer for her music. She didn't have any cds on her, but she gave me a postcard with a website address on it. I'm currently on the website at the moment downloading her songs. She asked what kind of music I wrote, if I had any on me. All I happened to have was the last song I finished, (which, incidentally, you may listen to via the link below) so I played that for her. She was mucho impressed, and expressed how much she'd love to "crank out lyrics for this." So she also told me to get in touch if I liked her stuff, cos, "you never know."

So I haven't listened to anything yet, but I'm hoping I like it. Because. You never know.

http://elzamusic.com/

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25 June 2003 at 2:22 am | No Comments »
in a category all its own

I was just about to sit down and write an entry about how horrible I was for not writing entries when I promised, and I was going to add the fact that yesterday on the subway on the way to my second NYC concert, I fell upon Judi Dench, but when I went looking for how to spell her name, I discovered that it was not Judi Dench I collapsed upon, but Dianne Wiest.

My life is over. Because I ran around telling everyone yesterday that she was the one I fell on. And it wasn't her.

::cries.::

22 June 2003 at 7:15 pm | No Comments »
bitching