I think when I was about 13 or 14, before the world was over-saturated with "sexy" myspace pictures and other such horrors, I think that I sometimes wanted to be "sexy" as well. But now, in this world full of overly tan blondes in cheap clothing, I want to be anything but "sexy" ....I hate the word "sexy" and I hate people who try to dress "sexy" ...I think people should dress how they want to dress because they like it, and not to be thought of in a certain way. Real sexiness would be a 1950's girl with classy hair, make-up and an evening gown. Today's version of "sexy" just looks stupid. Too much make-up, too much plastic surgery. Too fake. And yes, sometimes too much make-up and the "fake" look can be good, but only when done in an artful way, which is completely different from the sexy thing. Because the sexy thing looks cheap. The artful thing looks creative.
But yeah, so anytime someone calls me sexy, I always hate it. It's like an insult. Luckily it doesn't happen often though. Somehow my website only attracts respectful people. That's another thing I hate: when people try to flirt with me, either online or in person. Subtle flirting can be okay sometimes maybe, but whenever anyone says something that actually means something, I freak out. I feel like univited flirting is completely disrepectful. There was this one boy who said he wanted to dicuss music with me, so I actually gave him my rarely used screen-name. Now he asks me for pictures and he asked me if I like sex, and other such questions. I just get offline every time he says something like that. I think it's so rude for someone to say such things, out of nowhere. Just because it's the internet, doesn't mean you can say anything you want.
It's nothing new. It's not a "cry for help," I AM JUST PLAIN MISERABLE.
There is nothing in this life that could make me happy. I hate being alive. I hate life. There is nothing that could happen that would make me feel any different.
I hate that life has no meaning beyond itself. I hate that we suffer through life and we work so hard just to die in the end. What is the point of working so hard to get somewhere or to accomplish something when we will all someday just die? Is that why some people just don't work as hard, and go out a lot and have fun? But even then, what is the point of having fun and making memories when those too will fade away when you die?
And some people argue that it's to be remembered when they die, but what is the point when the whole world is so meaningless? Do your accomplishments really MEAN anything? Can something really mean something in a meaningless world? And if you're dead, why would you ever care if someone remembered you? You wouldn't even know.
I wish more than anything that I would have never existed.
There is absolutely no reason for the earth or universe, or for people to exist. It's completely a waste of everyone's time. The universe is completely unnessesary.
The purposeless-ness is what makes me miserable.
Day after day after day, and for what? Why? What are we doing here? Life is such a joke.
The days all start to seem the same and bits and pieces of dreams are accomplished, only to realize that they mean nothing as well, that they bring no happiness. That everything is just as before. That nothing will ever make anything better.
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So...I don't count my shows in New York as shows at all. They were more like practice shows. And yes, the "cool" thing to do is to play at dive bars, but dive bars aren't really set up well enough for my shows. My shows are a bit more than just standing there playing music in brown clothes, like most indie bands. Playing in New York was somewhat of a nightmare. The PA system at our first show was SO awful that my voice sounded all muffled, to me AND the audience. The second show was a little bit better except for the fact that everyone who went to our first show didn't make it to the second one, with the exception of my friend JJ, who came to both shows and beamed about how HE got to see my first show and all the other San Diego people didn't. Jeff also came to my second show and actually liked it, which surprised me, only because I am always so worried about what other people think...I always think that everyone's going to hate me or what I do because it's not the same as everyone else...It's so frightening to do things differently from other people....people are so judgemental and harsh that just the thought of them makes me want to hide under a table.
So yeah, Beauty Bar was definitely the best venue for my San Diego debut...The stage was big enough, the lighting was cool, and most importantly: the sound system was soooo good. We set up this whole white screen, with the Maystar logo projected on to it, and we played our first song behind it, with a red light as back-lighting. Then we had also built this 6-foot long stage/box with the logo on it and cut out hearts with light behind them. On the last song, the lights were supposed to change color, but I'm not sure if that happened. Anyway, our show was semi-theatrical using the box/stage thing as an extra level. I was really happy with the way the whole thing turned out, I didn't mess up at all. But I do think I want to cut the last song...a 6 minute song feels like 86,000 years when you are playing it on stage!
The audience was really cool: pretty much NO ONE walked away from our show to go get a drink or to talk to their friends, or anything. I've been to so many shows where people walk in and out of the room, barely paying any attention to the band, or even worse, they just leave the band completely! Thank god, no one left us! That was really cool. Even though I know it's normal for people to walk away, I think I would have died if anyone had....It's so terribly scary to be on stage singing... It's the most stressing thing ever, especially during the silence between songs. It's like being in front of your whole school naked, but worse. And when people walk away, you feel as though the whole world hates you and that you're terrible, even if people are only walking away to get a drink, you don't know that when you're up there on stage! And I of course am way too sensitive and take everything personally....I wonder if other bands are the same? I think from now on maybe I will sit through band's entire shows, just to be nice, even if I don't care for the music. It's rude to leave, that's what I have decided.
And after shows, all you want to do is go home and get away! It takes so much out of you, emotionally, to be up there on stage like that. In fact, I woke up sick today and I completely blame the stress of the show for shutting down my immune system! I was nervous for weeks about the show! My kind of music is so vulnerable and so personal that's it's really hard to perform it with people watching. And I am so shy when it comes to being on stage or camera without LINES, because suddenly it's YOU up there and not a character. Anything you do or say is YOUR fault. If you look stupid, it's YOUR fault, and not the character's fault. And I am so deathly afraid of ever looking stupid to anyone.
I have no idea why, but I am the kind of person that wants everyone to accept me. They don't have to like me, but they just can't hate me or think badly of me. The only problem with this is that I won't do things a certain way to get people to like me. So I want to be myself and have no one hate me for it. Impossible, I'm sure, but I'm so insecure that It's hard for me to deal with someone not liking me. I'm a good person, why would someone not like me? That's the way I think...
So although my show went really well, I didn't feel like it went good. I instead felt alone and isolated. The room was completely full, but familiar faces were few. I always want fans instead of friends, people who actually like my MUSIC to come to my shows, or even strangers, but this time was different. I wanted ALL my friends to be there, and so many of them were not there. Trevor and Isha had to work, Linda didn't feel like going, Eric came LATE and missed it, Linda and Maritza came late and missed it too. Marcy couldn't find a ride. Joably's car broke down. Melissa had to work somewhere else. And then a lot of my other "bar friends" just didn't find that it fit their schedules to do something for someone else and be supportive. Bar people tend to be very self-centered and only go to places that they WANT to be at. Trying to get them to be a supportive FRIEND is hopeless. The friends that did come were super cool for coming, but other than Sarah and Jason, none of them were people that I am really emotionally close to, so instead of feeling loved and safe, like I wanted to feel, I only felt awkward and isolated. Cara gave me a rose, which was super sweet, but I needed the love of my close friends as well. And on this night, even Jason and Sarah felt a bit like strangers. I don't know what I was expecting, but I just felt so let down by the people who didn't come, especially the ones who said they were coming and then were so late that they missed it completely, I needed hugs from friends before the show, and there were few.
To make things worse, my lovely guitarist abandoned me at the show as well. He was supposed to take all our equipment back home and then come sell CDs with me, but he instead just called and said he wasn't coming back. He went to some lame bar and got drunk by himself instead. awesome. So with no emotional support to move the table of CDs and shirts to the front of the venue, I just packed up everything and went to eat pizza with Chris, then went home, changed clothes and came back to hang out and dance with my "friends" ... I really wanted to just stay home, but I tried to come back and make the best of our EP release "party." What a fucking joke. I don't know what the point of having someone else in band is, when I am left all by myself to sell CDs and left all by myself to book shows and to do any online promotion...The only difference between now and before is that I have someone to play shows with.
It's so hard to be a band these days, when everyone and their mother has a myspace band, and when everyone downloads music for free and almost no one wants to buy CDs....
I hate getting friend requests on myspace from random bands, and I bet everyone else does too.... so how on earth am I supposed to promote my band to strangers? How do you get strangers to listen to your music without the radio to force it on them? Maybe it's time to spend $400+ on mailing out CDs to random radio stations to be thrown in the trash if they don't like them... It's over $2 just to mail out a CD (Including envelope and postage cost), not to mention the cost of the CD itself. Being a band is the hardest, lowest paying job ever. Yay! I'm certainly good at working really hard at things that don't make money...
is something that i no longer have. it's been getting increasingly worse over the past few years and now it's at a point where it feels like it couldn't get any worse.
everything i write here, or anywhere, is over-analyzed by someone who really shouldn't be reading.
this journal was created for a handful of friends and then turned into something for strangers.
i like strangers.
i don't mind strangers. i feel safe with strangers. strangers become a safe sort of friend that doesn't judge...strangers are my favorite. i like to perform in front of strangers, i like to help strangers, i like to write for strangers...
but i hate when people i know and people who sortof know me read my journal. it creeps me out. because maybe they are judging, maybe they are gossiping, or the worst: maybe they think i'm writing about them when i'm not.
i'm so sick of people getting all hurt over something i've written because they think they are so special that it's about them when it's NOT.
i can't write poems, i can't write my feelings, i can't write anything at all without someone spying on me. and if someone isn't spying, then there's my lovely family who all come and read my website at random.
i feel like all my space has been invaded and there's no way to get it back...
Which sounds like a better popsicle flavor to you?
Orange seems boring. Tangerine seems like something more exciting that I would want to try. Funny how similar things with different names can seem so different.
Day after day, I do what I want to do. (Well, work-wise at least.) I have a long way to go before reaching my "goals" or actually making money, but I don't think that I will be happy when I get there either.
Going to New York, not happy. Seeing old friends, not happy. Playing shows, not happy. Nothing brings happiness.
I hate this. Why is it so hard for me to be happy? Why doesn't anything in this world make me happy?
Maybe if I actually had time to have real fun I would be happy...maybe if I got to hang out with Chris, maybe if I got to go rollerskating, or climb trees, or go to the cliffs...Maybe I'm miserable because all I do and try to do is go to bars and clubs and work. Maybe I would be happy if I could go out to dinner...
It's funny how much of my life has been left out of my blog in the last two years. Boyfriend fights always seemed to have been published, but nothing else. Just thoughts, the only thing that ever seem to matter to me: thoughts and feelings. I left out the stories of the countless clubs and after-parties I've been too, because, well, they just weren't really that exciting. And as I writer of sorts, I could romanticize them, and make it sound like I have this fun exciting life, but I just can't lie. And don't want to. Why make your life sound better than it actually is? It already seems and looks better than it is. (Which leaves me wondering just how many other models and bands are as poor as me?)
Anyway, so here's a story from my first night in New York. On our way to Happy Ending (a club/bar), JJ decided that we should stop by a liquor store and buy some alcohol, which would be cheaper than drinking at the bar, which any good college student or alcoholic knows. So we get Sparks and the man at the counter puts them a paper bag and gives us straws. Being idiots, JJ and I decide to stand in the middle of the sidewalk to drink our sparks. So there we were, the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen: two people standing there, right in the open, drinking out of ONE paper bag, with two straws, kinda like sharing a milkshake, but not, and up pulls a taxi. It just kinda lurks in the middle of the street, and I get bad feeling about it. Out jumps a cop, who then gives us a ticket for drinking in public! Only $25, not so bad, and I was laughing almost the whole time, (trying to maybe somehow get out of the ticket), but it was still kinda scary to get a ticket! I've never gotten anything but a parking ticket before! And for someone who never drinks to get a ticket for drinking in public?! How random is that. Well, I drink sometimes, but I have a reputation for "not drinking" ... I've refused so many drinks and been sober so many times, that a lot of people always think that I NEVER drink. Anyway, so can you believe it? First night in New York and a TAXI pulls us over and tickets us! Since when do cops drive taxi's?! That's so not fair! haha. I spent the next two days waking up far too early trying to find the place to pay the ticket at.
