Dernier Soir

Last night Ceci's party was a tremendous success.

Beautiful apartment with a beautiful view and beautiful C, all the guests were C types, the cook the thief the wife and his lover... Chef J who she's been telling me about forever I finally met, he made the dinner and it was all kinds of incredible, I mean he went all out with like 8 huge pots of stewed amazing, there were gnarly margaritas I pretended to drink, Chef's boyfriend Alonzo, another girl who I vaguely remembered from the ballet company with C, and this girl who came in and spoke French and knew all these people I used to work with when I was in the old band cuz we had this minor hit there.... She told me she just bought a stage piano keyboard (kurzweiler=drool city) and she cant play, but its always been a dream of hers too, so I said I'd give her lessons and told her about my show...

We were sitting outside on C's amazing patio with the view drinking the wine she brought (thank god cuz I couldnt, with those margaritas, man) when I noticed this just STUNNING, I mean fucking dropdead 11 out of 10 girl looking at me inside so we went over and she and her friend were French too... so the French contingent hung there at the table in the corner and I was talking to the girl and she looked so familiar and finally I realized she's R.O. this actress that I f'in SWEAT, whose first big movie I saw with JayGray years ago when we were dating, and was like holy demon balls that girl is fucking SOMETHING... and we hit it off like BAM and she's kind of standoffish seeming and kind of a ballbuster but I like my balls busted, she kept correcting my French, like every grammatical error, it was so cute, I was like R youre gonna wear yourself out, she's like no you're like 90% i'm just making it 100, if you were any lower I wouldnt bother, so we were really getting along and she was just trained on me all night, and me on her, obviously (but not a Sappho) situation, so we all exchanged info and Naima the one with the Kurz invited me over to see her place and hang and mess around on the Kurz and she's gonna let me use it on Friday night AND theyre all coming

So I'm stoked right now.

Swank Clubs, Bad Crowds, Solo Performance, Sold Out

I have a show at a venue this Friday that can only be aptly described as "mad swank, yo."

Because it is. Mad swank. Yo.

But, ughhh, wrong crowd again? You know I think my music here in Lost Angels is like, USUALLY, falling on deaf ears. The old menz come to every performance and sit in the front and say things like, yeah, baby, and laugh at my little ironic musical nods to times gone by-- the only real IRONY I use musically, because god save the QUEEN is the scene just buttsore with irony these days, dizzie gillespie-glasses-wearin' hipsters, privileged and in $2000 worth of kit to look like they rolled out of the dumpster, had it so damn good they eschew even healthy REBELLION- the disdain of yesteryear, and appreciate everything, LIKE IT-- because they can play six degrees of masturbation by naming that white rapper on Def Juxx's sound engineer whose hi-hat hit influenced the chorus, and all kindsa other esoterica, et.al-- or just appreciate it IRONICALLY. Derisive sneermugged at all times.

Anyway. I dunno. I'm not totally NOT one of those people. I mean I'm not. But, not totally not. But I'm not into fey twee meaningless girlboy singers, whose every note is some kind of ironic homage. And. I dunno. The one comment I get most often (besides you sound like Regina Spektor, who, luckily, doesn't sound like Regina Spektor anymore, but I only get this comment anyway because I'm a girl, who plays a piano, and is kinda classically trained, and sings), is that my stuff sounds honest. It is honest. I don't do irony, it gives me the screamin' meemies to tell you the truth, I mean personally, I'm just not comfortable with it.

But. I love the West Coast music scene, way more, but, I dunno, I get booked at these CLUBS where the guy from S.Dak in the straw hat and Inspector Clousseau 'stache is nowhere to be found. I WANT that guy there... cuz like, I'm an Appalachian hayseed myself, let's be real, and at these places they have me play it's like, Hellay Posers who listen to-- I dunno what tf they listen to... but it's not the Pixies or Andrew Bird or Regina or even the Silversun Pickups and it's damn-sure not the Cranberries (which is my second most common comparison) and I see them there and I'm just like, Ugh. Ok. Lets just get through this So'D.

But for the love of Allah I am NICHT bringing my kangaroo dink keyboard again. Last time I heard it through the monitor it made my ears bleed. I'm gonna rent something. I'm gonna rent a f'n Korg. Yeah.

Catch-up and a Response.

So Thursday night I went to work, and yesterday I went to see Julian... yeah, and then I went straight from their to E's open mic place, and I played, and felt I tanked and I talked to E for a bit, he's become a friend now, ironically... And then the guy who owns the place was there and ran out and said "Hey, you, I have a slot open tomorrow night for an hour long set... Do you want it?" So I'm playing tonight... an hour... That's like my entire repertoire... That's like 10 songs or more... I haven't played most of them in ages... I have to practice all day and write down notes and NOT be nervous.... Well no one can be nervous for an hour. I think it'll be good for me. I'm almost considering telling people. I want to go to work tonight too so I'll have to go right after. It'll be a long day.

So first...

I want to respond to KS- I know where you're going with that question... Don't think I haven't considered... My belief system is an intense, ever-shifting, often-painful, love-hate relationship with one, then another, then none at all, then a few... much like my other relationships, which are getting less tumultuous and deeper as I grow up, which is a good thing, but for now... Well I'd like to go into it... but another time... Just to say, my apparent lack of faith is not for lack of interest, or consideration... I don't live the unexamined life... and when I'm hanging on the edge I look out... and sometimes I feel... Anyway...

I'm going to continue this in separate posts... I think that would be wise...

The Homeless Professor: Part 2

I was dazed. I walked to my car in the pouring rain, in the dark, from the twilight of the couch.

I called the venue-- I said, I'm driving from all the way, I don't know what the traffic will be like.. I mean, I'll be late, should I come? and the guy said, You know what I'll save you a ticket.

I was stupid late. The drive was terrifying in the rain. I showed up, wet, interrupting, people staring, asking for him, Eamonn. A young guy was playing beautiful flamenco guitar on the stage. I hung by the back and finally he came out. "Ah, you're the girl." He leaned over and handed me a ticket. Chemistry. Instant. Mutual. "Ah. Donnelly." He smiled. Sort of devilishly. "Put your name on the list next to the blond guy, Japanese guy, at the mixer. Three dollars." "I have to get cash... Is there an ATM?" "Across the street. You going in the rain?" "I have an umbrella." "Put your name on the list."

I walked through the crowd again, and through the rain, to the grocery store. I bought a fifth of cheap vodka and get cash back. I took a swill in the bathroom. I came back in and ordered a lemon tea. I sat sipping it next to the blond boy, watching, some weren't great. I kept scanning around for Eamonn. I said I had to pay for my ticket. I dumped a little vodka in my tea. My name was late on the list. The boy next to me said his wasn't on the list at all, and didn't make it last week, though he was there at 7 30, they sold out fast, but maybe he'd get to go up. Eamonn walked by and I got up and paid him. We exchanged a couple words, walked toward the back, hung there for a second talking about nothing. I went back to my seat. I drank a little. The engineer asked me if I wanted to go next though there were like ten names before mine... I was like, "Oh, I don't know, I'm.. not really ready..." "How about in two or three?" "Perfect, perfect," I said and I was trembling a little.

Then Eamonn was onstage with a guitar, and he was riveting, hard and soft, haunting... I got up and did my two songs without saying a word to the audience. I don't remember it, I remember making mistakes, I remember it sounding good, I remember the piano was out of tune and mid-playing I said into the mic, Hey this C is like somewhere between a B and a B-flat, to the engineer and nobody laughed or anything. They applauded. I walked off without saying anything. I sat back down. People started turning and saying, Really great, your voice is so beautiful, where can I hear more? and you sound like ____, you sound like ____, you sound like _____, I love her! And the promoter came up to me and gave me a featured set. And I said, oh, thanks, wow, thank you, and as Eamonn walked through the crowd he touched my arm and said, Haunting.

Later he asked if the drink helped. He said what do you have. He said give it here. The conversation got boozy. He's a professor, sociology and human sexuality. I'm studying sociology, next week start... He has an album out... I'm working on a new one... His ex wife is a musician too. I bet she is good. She's amazing. But she stifled me. She didn't inspire me... Mine too, my ex fiance, amazing. He inspired me though.

We ended up outside, in a corner, talking, ducking the rain, in my car, making out, in the venue in the dark after it closed, on a different couch.

There's something you should know about me. He'd said. I'll tell you later.

So after everything, he looked at me and said, I have a son, did I tell you? He's five. No, I said, that's cool, I bet he's amazing. He lives with my ex wife in Arizona, I have a stepson too. From her? I asked. From her, he said, and I still support them. Must be tough.. I said. We're finalizing our divorce... Oh boy, I grabbed my coat, I need to go home now. I joked. No, I know that takes forever, I said, it took my best friend Elena like four years... And you know that car you saw out there?

And I said, That's where you're living...

And he nodded, and I nodded, and then I shook my head, and I was shocked, and fuming, and perfectly still, staring ahead of me, jawdropped.

I... this is just, I can't. I said.

You're tired... You need to go home... I'll drive you...

How will you do that?


I'll drive you back to your car in the morning...

But- oh.

I know the area I know the good spots. He laughed. At me.

Addendum: He's a total jerk. Wow. I hate men. So much.

Fade

I had a crazy, kind of horrible, kind of great day. I decided I'm gonna quit whining so much but I was running around, sluggish, ten million things to do, making crackhead mistakes the whole time, I left my keys in the damn ignition and locked myself out in the cold, house keys on the same chain, phone almost dead, ugh, etc.

I got home and fell asleep for an hour, with my shoes and clothes on, face down. I've never done that.. I woke up and realized I was alone, that no one was next to me, and started crying. I've been alone for so long. I can barely take it.

I went to the venue with my neighbor. The owner wasn't too nice, and I just felt awful, but after a couple drinks, and the DJ warming up, we started dancing, and it was great. There was no one there.

We drove home and I found my Gipsy Kings CD in the car and I haven't heard it in like 6 months and we blasted it and I was happy.