Some Eggywegs for My Droogies

Thursday Night
He told me the Xanax would take care of the pain as I hit him harder this time. He wanted me to punch him in the collar bone, but I had this idea that I would break his collar bone and I don't think I could handle the sound that would make. Maybe it was the Jager.

Friday Night
I actually uttered the words, "Can I buy you a drink?" That was the first time I've ever said that in all seriousness. So I bought her a Ten and tonic and we took a polaroid picture...though it's only the back of her head looking away from me and my face looking either confused, sad, or drunk...or all of the above. I told her I would visit her in New York as I gave her a hug. I felt sadness. Then I looked at everyone else who was there to say goodbye to her and buy her drinks and realized I barely knew any of them.

Saturday Night
I just went to the store for the sole purpose of buying toilet paper. This might not sound odd, but I've never done it before. I suddenly had the odd image of myself standing in line with toilet paper...and that's it. You know, like when you see a couple in a store and all they are buying is condoms. Usually they'll pick up some extra items like a toothbrush and toothpaste and some mouthwash...like they're going to trick people into thinking that they came to the store because they had the undeniable urge to have a very clean mouth.

Walking back to my brother's house I passed a blue thong laying on the walkway. It wasn't there when I left 20 minutes earlier. Something very strange must have happened in my absence.

All Are One....heh

I'm still confused by the fact that I can now tell people, "I've played at the House of Blues." Sure I'll leave out the part where we didn't play on the main stage, but we played the HOB nonetheless.

We showed up a couple hours early and were stressed over getting in one band member (who was only playing the shaker) and one band member's brother (who was turning 19 that day) into a strictly 21 and up VIP room. Turns out all we had to do was cross our fingers and have them stick their wrists out and say, "We're in the band." In the end we had 6 people with artist wristbands on, though we only had 4 people in the band.

They led us to a posh lounge that was only for the musicians where we had free food and drinks. Mark Broussard (I'm not taking the time to look up how to really spell his name) was in the room next to us having a much fancier dinner with much fancier drinks.

We set up, played our hardest, and packed up. We had a really good number of people show up despite a huge amount of people being turned away due to the age restriction. I guess, as Aron put it, bellydancers + alcohol = shenanigans. I guess the under 21 crowd is not allowed to be exposed to the drunken cavorting that took place by the end of the night.

Everyone keeps asking me, "Wait...your fourth show ever with the band was at the House of Blues, and your next three shows are at the Hard Rock Cafe in Beverly Hills and on the Universal Citywalk? HOW?" All I can do is shrug my shoulders and say, "I don't know, but I'm not questioning it."

Melt

He stood there and watched her sleep as a tear or two silently rolled down his cheek. A trembling lip, a clenched fist, a sleepless night...maybe a dream.

She laid there with her back to him. She slept soundly.

He sat on the bed, almost touched her leg, thought otherwise. This was the last place he wanted to be, though he wanted to be there forever.

He knew, in his heart of hearts, that love like this would never come again.