show

before leaving for the show I had that moment of panic. like i knew everything was going ot collapse and it was starting already, only by my will could I hold anything together. i had to hold the doorframe at right angles as i said goodbye to my roommate, i thought she would say somehting about how it sagged and bent, but she just said she would feed my cat, good luck at the show. i ducked underneath and let it drop behind me. I can't control everything after all.

the fear can't possibly own me. if it did I wouldn't be who I am. I would be some crazy cat lady, I would be my sister, my mom, i would be that kinda-homeless lady who sells real change outside madison market. I wouldn't be me though. fear, intimidation, sadness, none of these things should actually affect how I end up livin gmy life.


I didn't realize we were starting to play.

i had just opened my second beer.

i didn't realize everyone's instruments would be so scattered around the room, i had to choose a spot at almost random, i wasn't plugged into any power source, no amplificatuon past my abused, wrinkled lungs.

i chose a spot with room for me and a holding spot for my beer. Jody was a doll and reminded me that I should be near the tape deck.

tape deck?
so others can hear our noise?
so others can hear my plaintative bleatiing and whining?

i play with the full knowledge that I can barely be heard. I started near the back but reveled in my freedom of movement. my beer and i sauntered to the front. just in time for our love supreme cover.

this cover has put me into hyperventilation. how can a crappy saxophonist cover anythign by coltrain? you don't COVER coltraine! you adore and worship coltrain!

luckily my nervousness disapeared after a half a big boy of the jasmine IPA. that's how much it takes to objectively realize that reality is melting while not screaming and crying.

people make my reality melt.

hades doesn't

the show went great s far as I can tell. don't get me wrong, there was a max of 10 people there at one time. but everything went well. the birthday girl seemed to love it. and hey, that's what it was there for.

i just need to drink more.

like a bottle of pepto bismol vomited

It was when I came back from traveling in Mexico and Cuba that I really noticed how drab and black Seattle was. Before when I would crack jokes about the 'uniform' or the 'black t-shirt brigade' i was just joking, only kidding. Then I saw it. Really, the uniformity, the bland, drabness that allowed everyone to similiarize their look into a lowest common denominator of fashion.
It was hard to tell people apart, people I knew, people I saw all the time, strangers, customers, neighbors, friends, all blurred together. Tight, pinched pale faces drawn into a blank look verging on a scowl. An unfocused gaze, pretending to look outwards but oh so self aware. It's painful to walk down the street next to them.
I really starting appreciating my friends that wore color, my friend my santa cruz ('my mom's from peru' she would explain), another girl from texas (i would say austen, but she developed some sort of texas pride while living in seattle) and another lady from New Orleans.
The bright colors they wore suddenly started standing out more starkly to me as a form of rebellion, not just nonconformity but an active rebellion. Taking back the drab and depressing streets and dressing them up with moving, bobbing, brightly colored beings walking alongside everyone else.
I started taking part as well. Someone gifted me their old coat, they had barely worn it and tired of it already. It was bright blue, neon blue, or as I like to say 'rainbow brite' blue. Over the years I've gone from black hair, to dark purple, and now a bleached out lavendar or pink raggedy-whispy mess.
I march around seattle, as depressed, bitter and angry a I ever have been. But looking like some sort of ray of sunshine. Or something. People comment on the coat constantly. Some get excited. I use it as an excuse to walk out in front of traffic that doesn't stop when I wait at a corner. They have no excuse, I know they saw me.
This blog page may be going over the top. It's an annoyingly in your face color and looks like a bottle pepto bismol threw up all over my browser window.
Yet being annoyed at something so mundane as an ugly color makes me feel better. Not so annoyed at everything else perhaps. who the fuck knows.