Good Enough

I am going to be truthful with you all. I'll admit that I have lost most of the ambition which has, in the past allowed me to conduct interviews with bands. That zestful curiousity has been replaced by long bicycle rides to work and a bag of chips. These two things combined can make you awfully lazy in the writing (and every day life) department. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty of spare time! It's just...well I just started watching "Peep Show" a few days ago and I'm already behind on my Perez.

Is this what becomes of a woman when she takes a semester off school? Does her mind rot this fast? I decided to take the summer off to save money, so that I wouldn't have to work very much while taking courses. Plus, there were no good online courses that I could do on tour. This is where it all started...mind-rotting, mind-rotting tour. I was going to interview a band in every city. My tour diary was going to be great, or at least less gossipy so that I could post it online.


The most productive things I have done since Spring semester ended are:

-Reading paperbacks. I am not so sure I like Henry Miller but both "My Year of Meats" and "Bastard Out of Carolina" made me cry. Slaughtered cows and step-daughter sexual abuse, respectively.

-Wrote a new Modern Creatures song. Except for it just sounds like a Devo song and I'm hoping no-one will notice or agree.

-Going to a lot of shows? Drinking too much? Saying inappropriate things?

-Family time.

-Memorizing Lindsey Lohan's every move and outfit.

-Taxes because I needed the money.


I have a new routine: I get up sometime between 9am and 1pm if it's a week-day. Then I go on the computer, eat, and try to write music. I cannot write lyrics anymore. The last song I wrote was about men following women who are not prostitutes. Since I am now old, this rarely happens to me, but I've still been carrying a Swiss army knife around with me.

Sometimes, I will pet or give food to one of the three cats I live with or read. I then ride on my bike for one hour to go work at a daycare. My bike is a bright pink mountain bike and the kids don't like me unless I'm spinning them around or holding a skipping rope for them. They always tell me to go away and try to hit me. Their games are boring anyway. Kitty/Swan Princess house? Building a fridge out of wooden blocks? Sooo yesterday. They won't even let me make cards. They build paper airplanes, but am I allowed to fold my paper into quarters? I don't think so.

My job only lasts three hours a day, so after that, I walk home with my friend and work-mate, Rhona. We gossip about everything. Sometimes she acts like she's smarter than me, but I don't think she yet realizes that just because she's thought something in her head does not mean that I can hear it! But alas, I love my friend and will be sorry because she is going to go away to work on a cruise ship FOREVER. After our walking and talking, I might go to Rhona's place, or bike home. Then some other stuff happens, then I fall asleep. I wish I smoked cigarettes sometimes. Oh well, I have a leather jacket. Good enough.