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.

It's Hard To Type Like This

I'm sitting on the floor of my room. Most everything I own is now in a 5'x10'x9' box protected by a cardboard door and an expensive lock I was tricked into buying.

"Don't worry," they told me..."we only had 2 break-ins in the last week."

I realized I collect allot of stuff. Junk. But all of which is kept in the name of memory/remembrance/sentimentality. I threw allot out.

Sure I'm physically moving, but this will be much more than simply a physical move for me.

I have, however, discovered why we type at chest level, and not sitting cross-legged on the floor typing with the keyboard on the ground. My wrists already hurt.

Too much is changing too fast....but my now white walls remind me how easy it is to start new like nothing has happened. Except for the nail holes, thumb tack holes, rubber cement residue, and general smudges that have shown up over these last couple years.

If you need me I won't be around for a while.

You can consult my doppelganger in the meantime.

But be careful...he bites.

15 Surefire Ways To Get Over A Breakup





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Confusion Amongst Perfection

I had 10 minutes before I had to head over to Chapman to get in order to graduate. I checked the mail and had one letter addressed to me. From Talbot. It was a small letter, not the big ones you get from universities when you are accepted. I opened it and due to the three way fold could simply see "Dear Grant,". I paused, caught my breath, and then flipped the page over and saw, "We are pleased to announce."

That was all I needed to see.

I sat in an air conditioned room in seat N1 for over an hour before sitting in 90 degree sun for 3 hours. I smiled some fake smiles, joked about people's unfortunate last names (Chism...I'm sorry), received a Padfolio, and got a piece of paper that means nothing because I guess I have to prove that I passed my classes before I get anything real.

I met with the rest of the Parachutes and received a bus stop sign from Sherbert. We discussed our gig at the House of Blues on Sunset Strip next month and attempted to give Max Weinberg a demo CD.

I had dinner with Naomi's family, had four glasses of wine, felt nothing, missed a graduation party that ended at 10.

I'm now attempting to go to an all night bowling place to finish off the day.

So now I know my next step even if I really don't and I know where I'm headed even though I don't and I have a plan even though I don't. I shake hands, give hugs, smile too much, pose for pictures, and explain my future plans even though I have none.

Looks like life's not that simple.

I've Been Looking So Long At These Pictures Of You...

That I almost believed they were real.

::

Tonight I christened my new Fender Jaguar by sitting on the floor playing Cure songs and feeling just a little bit sad.

I'm Supposed to Feel What?

At exactly 9:30am I finished my last task of my last year of Chapman University.

Too bad I'm not exuberant and overzealously overjoyed like everyone keeps telling me I should be.

I basically feel less stressed.

Oh...and my nose has stopped bleeding.