Somehow the last few hours have managed to turn today into a piece of shit day.

Yesterday I went to Memphis to be with my mom on the-day-after-her-birthday (I had to work on her birthday). We decided it was about time we saw Kay's band so we made an appearance at Tree of Woe in Memphis instead of going to see the badly reviewed Planet of the Apes. I thought at first we might only stay for Kay's band, or at most stay until Small Brown Bike played. This show was rocking pretty hard though, so we just decided to stick around there. It went like this: Biddy Biddy Biddy from Michigan rocked the house. They are sort of a dark Rocket from the Crypt. They had pretty sexy dance moves. They were just good. Small Brown Bike rocked the house all over again, more from being musically powerful than from stage presence. River City High played and they just seemed to be super duper full of themselves despite the fact that they sound like 400 other bands. They kept saying things like "Come on, Memphis!" even though Memphis doesn't ever really come on for anyone. I just had a feeling that they had planned everything that they were going to say that day in the van. I love the independent songs because I can relate and respect what you live to create. I had a really good feeling after the show, seeing so many kids there getting along and playing four square. I talked to Biddy Biddy Biddy, Small Brown Bike, Kay's band, and Never Cry Wolf all about playing in cleveland soon, and felt good about maybe having some good shows coming up.

So, this afternoon I went to Home Depot to check out some of those huge floor fans that people put in their garages that are the size of airpane propellors. I thought, man that would be great to have at the Theatre to cool off the shows. Turns out they are 140 dollars. Well, I rolled over in my mind the possibility of having a benifit show to help pay for a fan, and maybe some new louder P.A. so people can actually hear the vocals of loud bands. Good stuff.

Oh yea, this morning my Mom told me she may be staying in Memphis longer to have some surgery. We don't know. It kind of depends on whether we can get the state of Tennessee to pay for it or not. I don't really want to talk about that anymore.

Well, we ate at my favorite restaurant Saigon Le, and I had a ton of barbecue wheat glute left over. Oh boy, I couldn't wait to scarf it for dinner. Well, first thing I get home, I open the door and the cat comes running out either to jump up my pants or disappear. I reach to grab him and my food box falls, simulaneously opening and turning face down on the spot where some flowers would be if I'd lived here earlier in the summer. There is all of my food - my FAVORITE FOOD and a lot of it - face down in the dirt. And it was really dirty too, covered in twigs and shit. Fine, I just cursed some and got over it.

After being gone for any period of hours Ed the cat will go nuts when you come home, especially if you've been gone for a day or more. I just wanted to read my book in the bathroom and he just wanted to stand outside the door and yell over and over and over. That's fine. I just left to play drums at the Frame Shop.

I could tell when I went to the car that it was going to storm- slight drop in temperature, purplish-black sky, etc. When I got to the theatre housing my equipment I debated on whether to actually go in because I know how scary that place is at night when alone. It's shadowful and has lots of sharp things and hiding places. It also has big front windows so that when you are walking out lightening can flash and you can suddenly see a rain soaked killer staring inside. you know.

I went in anyway and attempted to play a lot of drumbeats I've ripped off, but got very frustrated when I couldn't play The House Shook. I'm a terrible drummer, blah blah. Just when I was about to impale myself, the back door started rattling. It does this whenever there is wind because, you guessed it, it's loose. It never ceases to be scary though. Once it happened when Lexie, Ronny, and I were all there and we ran into the Frame Shop grabbing small hammers and ice picks and metal files along the way to defend ourselves with somehow. Man, it's fucking creepy in there I swear.

So I got the hell out of there, and it was pouring down rain like some freaking movie all the way home.

Our street was flooded. The cat freaked out some more when I came in. Crystal called from her vacation in Florida and we had a fight over whether or not River City High sucks which eventually led to me finding out that everyone hates me and I should quit booking shows because that makes me selfish. Yea, I would save a lot of money on that fan and that P.A. and I'd have a lot more free time to garden if I did. Because the way it works is this:
No matter what you do, you are never quite perfect enough.

Then I sat here for a lot of hours thinking about that and feeling pretty pathetic like that Smoking Popes song I like so much.

So now I'm drinking myself to sleep and singing Hot Water songs about unity like I know what it means. At least I dodged the cat. Yea Mr. Ed you are sleeping on the couch.