detox

so my tv broke the day I got the flat tire, last week? the week before. the tuesday before we left to drive to florida. yes. so, I come home and it turns on, but all I can see is the bottom half of the screen. turns out camera folk are quite consistent - it was the same man pecs, at the same distance, and the same saggy housewife boobs. I think I wrote about that already. anyways, apparently howie day has a video out for "collide".

I saw the bottom half. there was a chick and he was on a train, and sometimes he played guitar.

so today, taking prompts from the one of freakish voluminousness, I too "rearranged my desktop". the top of my desk, the whole living room in fact. including wheeling the broken tv away into the spare room until I can figure out how the fuck to pick it up to dispose of it. it's monstrous, it used to be in my parents' living room. and two days ago I cut my hair. and my refrigerator looks like a cooking show - I didn't know I would ever want so many vegetables.

and, here I sit, almost midnight on a saturday, with no tv in my living room. I'm not totally deprived, I kept the first 11 channels of cable on the bedroom tv. so, like, if the world is ending or something, I'll be able to see it on the news. (plus I didn't want to cut myself off completely. I am powerless over television and my life has become unmanageable. so it's like quitting crack, but keeping a bag of weed just in case.)

and it's forcing me to be here. to be. here.

I have some cds to load in, and I have to set up karma #2 after karma #1 starting just putting out from one side. dirty slut. and I should post the frames / mark geary show, but... I want to be in a good place to post that. and I'm not in a bad place, I just feel a little displaced. and strange. but rilke talks about that, being in love and being totally alone and how we'd be displaced at the grand canyon all by ourselves too but that wouldn't mean it wasn't beautiful.

so tonight was strange. sorry for word re-use. I went to the space, anne heaton was opening up for mighty purple. mighty purple is leaving on tour, opening up for the samples. the samples, in case you don't know, are a shitty band from colorado that think they're a national act. in any case, it gives mp some exposure, which they have worked hard for, and I felt obligated to stay past anne.

I'm having a kristin moment, do I write the truth or do I edit for fear of who might stumble across this entry? fuck it.

tonight made me feel like I need to move away. I'm at the space. again. steve is singing. again. but it's the same songs, and the new ones are so basic and un... commanding. there was a time when mighty purple was commanding. you couldn't not listen. like when I listen to I'm wide awake it's morning, I can't write or hold a conversation. I can barely doodle. you have to listen to it. and tonight, it was the same songs in a room full of strangers and steve looked old. and I wanted so much to stay, in hopes of prelude or something, but even jon looked... different. he wasn't making love to his guitar. and don't get me wrong, they sounded great, they are a great band, but it just didn't grab me tonight. I wanted steve to look ten years younger and for jon to be doing a solo project. I wanted to not feel fat trying on tshirts. I didn't know 98% of the poeple in the room and it just didn't fit anymore. it doesn't fit anymore.

it might have just been the moment, or lack thereof, but I doubt it. I would venture to say that there has been yet another shifting. like in a big ass continental plate way, so gradual you'd never know until you went to drive to a familiar place and you saw that the road was broken. detour signs and such, to the point where you wonder if you should even bother still going, because the drive was most of the fun of getting there.

is this making sense? kristin will understand. that makes it all alright.

so I got some anne heaton and I got to give jonny a bunch of cds I made, and maybe he will come home and sing "you should belong to me" and "this is the first day of my life" and "red right ankle" and "give me love". if that was my sole purpose, so be it. oh, and I met a cool photographer guy that had some shots of dashboard and a bunch of awesome bands. and I gave dave kone a miniature loaf of wonder bread, just because.

and I'm writing about it, and I'm awake about it. and that's got to count for something, right? it has to. otherwise I am even more fucked than I already know about.