| feeling optimistic.... |
[Sep. 16th, 2007|12:35 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  calm | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Pj Harvey - White Chalk | ] |
and for those of you who have followed my lj over the past few years, you know this rarely ever happens. Anyway... I got smart about things. I downloaded a 'hot list' of online PR contacts with blogs, ezines and online publications where I could send a press release on Pirate Prude's upcoming debut record. Not only have i covered the small, uber indie online zines... I've sent editorials out to Pitchfork, Q, Mojo Magazine, CMJ, NME, Spin, and other big indie timers. I want ANYONE to hear this record. So much so, that I have already began a vehement free publicating PR guerrilla online machine since Thursday to get the word out about it. Read the press release below.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Beyond Main St and Guyville; Pirate Prude adds their musical take on 'Exile'
Pirate Prude (originally the debut ep title by the band, Helium) is the moniker for 26-year-old Tampa Bay singer/songwriter, Mark Freifeld. After numerous line-ups, and the lack of a dependable and consistent drummer, Mark decided to get to work on a debut record. With a plethora of songs under his belt since the late 90s, the daunting task of picking and choosing a track listing and order was at hand. Then the 'Exile' concept came to be a reality.
In the history of rock n' roll, there are two classic records that continue to stand strong among critics and fans alike. "Exile on Main St" by the Rolling Stones and "Exile In Guyville" by Liz Phair. Much like Liz back in '92-93, Mark became feverishly swept up in utilizing 'Exile' as a conceptual framework for a debut album. Liz solely had Main St to go to to tailor her song structures alongside that of Mick Jagger's rugged, beatific street urchin character. Both records indicate a sense of alienation and rebellion from a community, and Pirate Prude's "Exile In Circuitville" is no different.
'Circuitville' is Mark's name for Tampa, Florida. Just as Liz described 'Guyville' (Wicker Park community of Chicago) as being overwrought with indie flannel wearing rocker dudes, 'Circuitville' is infested with dime-a-dozen homos who all wear Hollister clothes and listen to the same bland, monotonous club music. Mark has structured his 18 song journey into 'Exile' by honing in on the emotions, themes, and stories detailed in the two
Exile records which came before.
The intended release date for 'Circuitville' is January, 2008. Sampler cds will surface in reviewers' hands by Nov-Dec. 2007. Record labels have yet to pick up on this project, but careful consideration will be given to all parties who express an interest. For additional information and inquiries, send e-mail to
mark.freifeld@gmail.com. Most recent demos can be heard streaming at http://apps.facebook.com/ilike/artist/Pirate+Prude
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I feel wildly optimistic. Mainly because I'm making this record for me before anybody else. The final product will be one that I am completely content and satisfied with. There is nothing more essential to our personal character than creating something that we feel utterly proud of. The amount of work that I've already put into the songs is astounding. It has yet to really be touched by the other musicians who will add a piece of themselves to the mix.
Secondly, like always attracts like. The more I get people initially interested in the material months before it's completed is a way to maximize fan base in as little time as possible. Although I realize the importance of
drilling it into peoples' heads. This will be weeks of online networking and posting. Anyone willing to help out?
Don't feel obligated. This is my own self-afflicted beast of burden. But the outcome of the release is all just going to be gravy. I feel it as such before it has even happened. |
|
|
| thoughts on Pj Harvey's new record "White Chalk" |
[Sep. 12th, 2007|11:26 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  blah | ] |
I snagged the leaked version last night. It's phenomenal. It's everything a Tim Burton film tries to capture, but it's done all through the audio medium.
Now in regards to your thoughts on her becoming a pussy and losing her fire because she put down the guitar for the piano (you and Steve Albini)... you're horribly mistaken. She sounds rejuvenated, and I don't think she's been this creative and emotional since To Bring you my Love.
This is why peoples' musical opinions bother me so. They are usually narrow, rarely open-minded and quick to judge and pigeon hole artists. If you don't want any other Pj than the one on Rid of Me... just stick with Rid of Me and shut the fuck up. Please. Thanks. |
|
|
| For those of us who don't have a choice..... |
[Aug. 29th, 2007|02:19 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  lonely | ] |
Please read this. Especially if you are someone who is creative and feel that there is no one out there to appreciate it. Read this blog entry by the amazing singer/songwriter,Kristin Hersh. The unfortunate truth of the matter is it doesn't matter how good or beautiful something is. If it isn't something that can be marketed or sold to the mass public (even smaller indie markets) then it doesn't make it.
From the www.throwingmusic.com blog website:
We have four days to make Minneapolis. An easy schedule to keep with Super Billy at the wheel unless, of course, the universe tilts on its axis and everything goes all haywire and the Family Bus blows up. Which it does.
We’ve broken down before. In fact, we break down a lot. Our bus is a sensitive dullard of a machine. A princess who feels every pea and can’t begin to figure out how to overcome even one of those peas. But never before have we ridden the professional and financial line so hard. This tour is barely breaking even and may lose money. I worry that I won’t be able to pay the other musicians and that my attendances and therefore guarantees are falling to the point where I can no longer afford to tour.
Every date is a question mark, a potential indicator of my future. I say I don’t believe in the music business because I hate what it celebrates and yet…I have no other business. Like it or not, I rely on the same construct I always did, the same Handicapper General that trades in some of the most offensive marketing on this planet; the same business that turns music – which is my religion – into nothing more holy than Fritos. I have to care if no one buys my record, I have to care if no one comes to my shows.
I have to care, because soon, there may be no place for the next song to go. I think I’ll always play music. I think I have to. I’ll play in my bedroom, in my car, in my garage…but without an audience, without money, I won’t be on the road and I won’t be in the studio. And like it or not, music is a social endeavor. I wish it wasn’t, but it is and as such, it’s impact is stunted when it’s invisible. Music isn’t supposed to stay in the bedroom, the car, or the garage. It’s supposed to be given away, to become other people’s soundtrack.
So what happens is, we’re driving through the mountains and I’m stumbling around the bus, listening to music, making sandwiches for the kids and laughing with Bernie as we barrel down the highway like we have so many times before. I had just stepped over a dog to hand Wyatt a cup of milk when Ryder yelled, “Fire!” from the back bedroom.
Instantly, the bus filled with smoke. I grabbed the baby off of his stool and handed him to Rob who was sitting on the couch. Bodhi’s eyes were huge as Rob wrapped his arms around him. Then Bernie found a fire extinguisher and ran into the smoke; I ran after him as the bus careened across lanes of traffic, Billy trying to pull off the road and yelling, “Don’t go back there! Don’t go back there!” I found Ryder in the back and pushed him into the kitchen, then I grabbed Wyatt and put him on my lap. We fell onto the couch next to Martin and Kim and that’s when everything slowed down.
The smoke billowed, Bernie appeared through it, people were yelling, Billy worked to keep the bus on a twisting mountain road without power steering or brakes…and all I really saw was music going away. Up in smoke, as it were. The last piece of the mother/musician conundrum falling out of play.
We lived, of course. But the impression of life being in slow motion persisted through what came to be three days of being stranded in Idaho without cell service or hotels. I don’t remember much about this time. I remember Billy somehow finding “s’mores” ingredients for the boys: from Super Billy to Super Dad. I remember making a fishing rod for Bodhi out of a stick and some dental floss. I remember cutting my hair in the dark, just to get it out of my face. I remember a band meeting where four exhausted, hungry and unwashed musicians all voted unequivocally to stay on the road and not fly home. “Anything to keep playing,” they all said, “we’ll do whatever it takes” and I had to leave the room because I’m not a girl and I don’t cry.
I remember the children packing their lives up as we left the bus, their only consistent home for the last 7 years -- and at the time -- their only home. Wyatt was in tears because he might never see it again. We all knew we probably couldn’t afford to fix it.
I remember waiting for Billy, Rob and Bernie to arrive with a truck and a van so that we might at least make Chicago and limp through the rest of the tour. The little boys blew dandelion seeds into the air while we waited. I sat in the grass and watched them through a haze of grief, knowing that since touring costs money and recording costs money, I could no longer work. I wondered if there was such a thing as life after music, wondered if I could live such a life, wondered if children ever forgave mothers who couldn’t live life. I was pretty low.
Bodhi approached with a dandelion and blew the seeds into my face gravely. “What’d you wish for?” I asked him.
“To live all the way to the very last day of my whole life.”
No, then. Mothers aren’t allowed to go anywhere. I’ll have to work it out somehow. Christ, the things they say sometimes.
And we do work it out. For the time being, anyway. Bernie and Rob drive the equipment truck while the three boys and Martin and Kim and the three dogs all ride in the back of a mini van. Billy and I ride up front like the Mom and Dad we’re supposed to be and pretend to yell at our passengers, slapping blindly into the back seat and threatening to “turn this van around and take everybody back to Idaho”.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” they all scream. Martin and Kim get very good at passing snacks, books and Kleenex into the back seat and then books, garbage and used Kleenex into the front. We discuss the idea that God has it in for us, a long-held theory of my brother’s. “Look at the facts!” he has said, “Everywhere you guys go there’s a natural disaster. In fact, all you have to do is think about going somewhere and awful things happen there. Do me a favor and don’t ever move to my neighborhood.”
He has a point. We have suffered damage of biblical proportions in the last several years. Earthquakes, floods, conflagrations and tidal waves seem to track our movements across the globe. “Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something,” Billy suggests.
“It wants me to quit? Why?”
“Who knows? Maybe you have more important things to do.”
“Like what?” I ask. “I can’t do anything but music.”
“That might actually be true.”
The Minneapolis show is canceled, but we make Chicago in time for soundcheck. A friendly restaurant owner in town has read about our plight at the website and brings a beautiful Italian dinner for our entire touring party to the Lakeshore Theater. During the set, my children dance around the dressing room singing, “Polenta! Polenta! Ya-ay, polenta!”
Most of the audience seems to be aware of our recent struggles, as they line up to buy five or six CD’s at a time after the set. “I already have this, but, you know…Christmas is coming,” says a woman in a red blouse. As I sign four copies of Learn to Sing for her, I remind her that it’s May. She smiles. “Well, Christmas is coming eventually,” she says.
By the time we reach Indianapolis, I’ve learned that the amount of money in the tip jar at throwingmusic.com has increased along with our bad luck. “The tip jar is overflowing!” says Tine, our webmistress, “and more is coming in as we speak. I’m watching it grow before my eyes!”
I have wildly mixed feelings about this. I am amazed and grateful, of course, but also heartsick. I’d feel okay taking some sugar daddy’s money, some record company or wealthy patron or…well anything but money from these people who’ve already given so much of their time and support over the years. But because of this swollen tip jar, it looks like the tour will break even: the bus will be fixed, the musicians paid, their flights home bought. Absolutely incredible. I'm proud that this “tribe” that music created solved the problem for itself, without the help of Corporate America – or anyone else.
At The Ark in Ann Arbor, a man holds up his copy of Sunny Border Blue and tells me, “If you ever stopped, I think I would, too.”
After the show at the Crystal Ballroom in Cleveland, a woman hands me a wide, flat cardboard box. I am so hungry, I think she’s given me a sheet cake. “Is that a cake?” I ask her.
“Did you want a cake?”
“Well…is it one?”
“No, it’s a picture, but I could get you a cake…”
“No, I don’t need a cake-”
Then Kim hops up onto the stage. “Yum! Cake!” she says.
The woman looks sad, “No, it’s just a picture…”
Billy leans in to pack up my stomp boxes, “Wow! Is that a cake?” he asks, grinning.
Now the woman looks distraught. “I’m sorry…” she says.
In Pittsburgh, Vicky and Slim Cessna smuggle their children into the venue to watch the set from the back of the room. During the show, Slim, a man of very few words, leans over to Billy and says, “I know it’s been hard lately, but this is important.”
We meet Orrin at Hi-n-Dry in Cambridge to shoot a DVD of the last night of the tour. This place was the late Mark Sandman of Morphine’s loft, back in the day. Now it’s a full service studio/performance space and it’s beautiful. With its funky oriental rugs and easy hominess, it so reminds us of Kingsway Studio in New Orleans that it’s eerie. There are even Boston versions of our New Orleans friends there. So strange, yet so comfortable. “Welcome home,” someone says to me when I walk in.
I am, at this point, physically and emotionally spent by the tour, yet terrified by the idea that in the morning it will all be over. Five months is not a terribly long time, but we sure packed in a lot since January. Goofiness and trauma, gourmet dinners and starvation, sleet and sun, boats and buses, mountains and deserts, days spent asleep, nights spent awake…Jesus, we’re like a bad movie.
The thing is, there was always playing. Every day had a point and that point was songs. Whatever happens next, I’ve been so blessed. |
|
|
| Pirate Prude on NIMBIT |
[Aug. 2nd, 2007|04:17 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | work | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  tired | ] |
Read the bio and add yourself to the mailing list. It will be worth it. Also, if you received an error trying to sign up, you won't now. It's been fixed.
www.nimbitmusic.com/pirateprude |
|
|
| a rock n' roll debut.... ironically sharing the title of this LJ |
[Jul. 19th, 2007|03:45 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | work | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bored | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Lisa Germano - Lullaby for Liquid Pig | ] |
Due to the lack of dependable drummers in the area and completely sick and OVER trying to get booked for local shows, I'm working on recording the first Pirate Prude record.
Originally I was going to make it a concise 12 song record. 12 songs is typical for an LP. For a while now I've toyed with the idea of creating my own Exile record. The first was released by the Rolling Stones called "Exile on Main Street." The second was Liz Phair's debut, "Exile in Guyville." I am creating the third. Exile in Circuitville. Circuitville is Tampa, Florida. Circuit is slang to describe 24 hour drug induced rave dance parties with vapid, good looking gym bunny homos. Thus the concept of the record is what I write about best... alienation. This concept is shared from the other Exile albums and I have used the two to formulate my 18 song track list. Unlike Liz, it is not a direct song by song response. Some of the songs do match up but the fun is for the listener to figure the parallels out between the three. Of course I won't tell or clarify. That ruins the fun and the interpretation.
I hope to have this record including artwork by the fabulous Marina Williams completed and ready for the world by January. The way things are moving with recording, this could be quite possible. I will of course label shop it a bit but I'm fine with putting it out on cdbaby until the right label picks it up. Lord knows when that will be.
Pirate Prude is alive and well. Drummerless but our original drummer might very well step in to play drums on the record. Tom Kersey will add cello and guitar. Andrew Hawthorne will play bass like always, among other things probably.
The project is uber exciting which is why I wanted to update you on it. Check back for random updates. I will upload a few songs from the record in the coming months. www.myspace.com/pirateprude
One day there will be an official website. It's the last of my concerns at the moment with my current recording agenda/obsession.
That's all for now. |
|
|
| oh bob.... |
[May. 21st, 2007|12:38 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sad | ] |
I love you still, even though you're a jew who became born again. this verse sums up how I currently feel. It's from the song 'Idiot Wind' on Blood on the Tracks.
I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free,
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.
You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above,
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love,
And it makes me feel so sorry. |
|
|
| now my heart is full.... and I just can't explain.... |
[Mar. 8th, 2007|10:46 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | werk | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | calm | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | morrissey- vauxhall and i | ] |
I've made a terrible mistake. I've been walking thru life with the blinders on. For whatever reason, I bought the book "The Secret" the other day. It's been talked about on numerous talk shows and in papers. Despite what some people might think, a lot of the ideas in the book are extremely pragmatic and make a lot of sense. I don't regret purchasing it. In fact, it's been a Godsend.
Yesterday I discovered at my evaluation at the psych clinic that I would need to attend group sessions once a week for 12 weeks. If I refuse treatment, my license is automatically pulled. It's not a big deal aside from the fact that there will be random urine tests twice a month. There goes smoking for three months. I was entirely bummed the whole afternoon.
I know why i smoke so much. It takes the edge off of everything. When I am most lucid I tend to worry and stress the most. But reading that book last night made me realize... I have more power over my mind than I give myself credit for. I am constantly negative and because of all these negative thoughts, there is no way for me to experience true happiness.
So I'm picking up today with a clean slate. I know what my ultimate goal and desires are in life and I'm ready to act like they are already mine. I believe in my abilities and I want to share them with the rest of the world. Yes, I'm not going to pretend that there aren't a great amount of shitty people out there. But like attracts like. If I put out my creative energy with my utmost effort and inspiration, it will inspire others who care to listen and respond. I know this because of artists and musicians who have inspired me throughout my life.
I've been flustered and restless for weeks now. Wishing I could pick up and finally get out of Florida once and for all. Just drop everything and flee. I know it will happen. But I'm not going to up and quit everything I've been working for up to this point. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or a few months from now. I have more important things to focus on than my geography.
I know I brought the DUI to me. From the time in the cop car to early evening yesterday I have been in an emotional and negatively thoughtful haze. For previous weeks during my binge drinking and smoking I kept having thoughts that something would eventually go wrong. And it did. I was basically asking for it. I'm ready to ask for things that I want and that I will enjoy. I'm tired of dwelling on the negatives and the past.
I'm very grateful and fortunate. I have the best parents in the world. They are always supportive, understanding and constantly try to build me up with esteem. Most importantly, they love me unconditionally. I have friends who love me. I have a band with musicians who love my songs. I'm ready to start loving myself. I'm not saying I already do but I think I've beat myself up emotionally long enough. Fuck. that. shit.
I apologize if this seems like a self-help entry. I guess that's what it is. I'm not even really typing it out for you. It's for me. So enjoy your own life and fuck off. |
|
|
| I know what I know.... I know on that car ride down |
[Dec. 5th, 2006|12:01 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | my head. | ] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | calm | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Yeah yeah yeahs - Turn into | ] |
It's been quite a year... this '06. We are at the tail end. I went from selling shoes in an overpriced, overhyped department store to training dumbass recruiters on data entry at a mortgage loan company. The tides do certainly turn. And despite my pessimism/realism... I think they turn for the better. I feel this way mainly because of my band. A few months ago I wasn't sure if I could keep Pirate Prude going. Our drummer bailed and my bassist would have no part playing out without a drummer. Then we not only found another drummer... we found the RIGHT drummer. The drummer who listens to the songs and really works his way inside of them rhythmically and soulfully. He's a drummer with a lot of talent yet to be realized. I think this band could make him realize it.
I'm realizing myself as a songwriter. What makes me feel like a songwriter is not necessarily how the songs make me feel or that I think they are worth sharing. I see how they affect others. When we're in the thick of playing a song like Sodomite Angels... and I have both the drummer and bassist screaming the lyrics along with me (by choice... nothing rehearsed).... I must be doing something right. When my bassist cries for a few minutes straight while we're playing a song... something magical is happening. I'm provoking emotion with my art. That's a satisfaction that money will never buy me.
I've lost connections with a few close friends. But I realize it's just life. For whatever reason they were an important part of my life and for a while, they served a meaningful purpose. I'll remember them for that. There will be more to come. Hopefully more that will withstand the test of time.
That's all I have to reflect on for now. My posts are coming fewer and far between. I just don't want to sound like a broken record and complain about the same shit repeatedly.
"turn into.... the only thing you ever know...." |
|
|
| DON'T MISS THIS! |
[Oct. 1st, 2006|12:59 am] |
PIRATE PRUDE IS THE SPECIAL GUESTS TBA
IT WILL BE QUITE A TIME. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Jul. 18th, 2006|12:04 pm] |
So I'm sitting here in front of my mac on a Tuesday. The 18th as it says above this text entry box. But one thing is different about this Tuesday. I'm not at work. Yes, I'm unemployed. And it never felt soo good/bad. Of course I'm utterly shitting myself.... but with this feeling of uncertainty comes such a much needed release. I never have to go back to that place. I never have to carry out four fucking boxes of shoes to anyone. I never have to look at embroidered cufflinks with the initials of noveau riche fuckos. I never have to inhale rank ass foot odors again. Never again.
Yes I'm battling the pessimist within me. Of course I have hope that I will find something better. I have a month to do it. Or it's probably back to my parents' house/suicide. Now is the time in which I have never had to believe in myself more. I need it.
I've been working on a song recently. After three days of trying to iron out the kinks, I'm loving it now. I don't know how it works. This songwriting thing. I know when it's forced or not right. I know when it's perfect. I know when there's a verse missing. Everyone else may not know but I want to show them. There's nothing else I really want to do. I blame it on my fucking Pisces sign.
I just want to spend time with friends. I want to have invigorating conversations and not ever once look at the clock. Because I have no reason to care. Tomorrow I get to wake up and decide what I'm going to accomplish for the day. I won't wake up, punch the numbers into the key pad and open the door to a world of corporate capitalism in which I am merely a cog in the wheel. And it feels good. Regardless of whether I'm homeless in a month. |
|
|
| let the shows begin! |
[Apr. 13th, 2006|01:37 pm] |
Tonight is Pirate Prude's first official show since august 14th, 2004. Looong overdue, but it's going to prove to be worth the wait. This is just the beginning people!
 |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 25th, 2006|01:52 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  drained | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Flood | ] |
well life continues trudging along. I'm taking things in stride. all things considered. To start, I'm moving in a matter of a few days. Actually I've already been in the process of moving. It's just that Wednesday the 29th of this month is when it's completely official. That's when I bring over my furniture and bed. That's when I say goodbye to the whitetrash streets of St. Petersburg and hello again to the ghetto luxury of Seminole Heights. Ahhh... how I have missed those heights.
I will miss living alone. I'm looking forward to the company of roommates again but I also know what complications occur with that kind of situation. I've grown to really have an appreciation for living alone. Sure... there have been nights where I've wanted to hang myself by my curtains in the living room. But you have those nights regardless of whether you have an audience of people or not.
Anyway... here's a quick update. Aside from the move, I have been steadily at work with my new bandmates in Pirate Prude. The new lineup consists of Andrew Hawthorne on bass, and our drummer who we discovered thanks to Craig's list, Scott Robinson. Scott was the former drummer from a band up in Boston known as Gatsby. It's sick how well we all play together. It's sick how well they've been sucked into the moods and feel of my songs and manage to generate a new feel of their own with it.
There is a first show on the way!!! Check it...
Thursday, April 13th @ the Bombshell Gallery (2534 Central Ave., St. Petersburg)
PIRATE PRUDE & MOUSE FIRE
Doors open @ 8PM, show begins @ 9
$2 cover
If you live in the Tampa Bay area, come out and show me your love and support. Or else I will hate you for eternity. Just kidding. Well... not really. |
|
|
| happy new years to me! |
[Jan. 4th, 2006|07:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | sick | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Cocteau Twins - blind, dumb, deaf | ] |
so... for like, the fourth time in a four month period, I've caught another airborne bug. The left side of my throat is swollen and I have horrible body aches and chills. Today was my day off. I slept on and off until 4 PM. Then I got up and realized there was no more avoiding it. I had to get some groceries. So I frolicked (more like sickly meandered) thru the aisles picking up soups, vitamins, teas, liquids, and various edible items. I came home and cooked some ministrone soup and ziti with this tasty vodka cream sauce. I also cleaned out my refrigerator (Laurel knows how seldom that happens).
I'll be honest... New Years was a fucking bust. I spent it with my parents while I did loads of laundry. Yes.. I'm fucking lame. I was hoping to see my friend ila since she came up to Tampa for a few days around the new year. That didn't happen. Oh fucking well. I didn't make much of an effort to do anything on my end.
I never really thought much of the holiday. Yeah... it's an opportunity for a fresh start. Let's face it... resolutions were made to be broken. The only resolution I've made is to stop sleeping around. I'm determined to stick by that. 2005 was a draining, depressing, and self-destructive year for me. It's one of those years I wish for the most part could be erased.
Since the end of November I have become much more reclusive. The phone hardly ever rings and I find that I spend my time outside of work pretty much alone. I don't necessarily prefer it this way but it is a lot easier than getting a group of friends together to go out and pretend to be happy.
On Friday i will purchase an Ipod for myself. For the past few months I have been plagued with an unreliable cd player in my car. With the extra money I made slaving away during the holiday season... I will put it towards the ipod. Realistically I should save as much money as I can. I still have the hope of moving out to Portland later this year. I could also die in a car wreck before that happens. I'd rather go out listening to good music.
Earlier this morning I layed in bed huddled under the blankets freezing with my throat throbbing. I thought of all that I miss from last year. Laurel, the djing gig, my ill fated kitten, Moz, ila and ariel. It's like the Kristin Hersh song "ether"... " i ache for the past like a baby." I really do. Maybe it's because I have nothing really going on right now. That will change eventually. I've come to learn that life is full of these peaks and valleys. That's pretty good for a decently functioning depressive. I just want it to be good again NOW. christ. someone make it good again. please. |
|
|
| yeah so... |
[Sep. 2nd, 2005|05:02 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | defeated | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | kristin hersh - cartoons | ] |
i don't know what i was expecting. the highlight of the trip to sarasota was spending time with marina. the drive over the Sunshine Skyway was gorgeous. I had never driven over it at night.
I loved looking at marina's artwork. such an avid collector of vintage clothes, knick knacks,... books on bohemian photographers of the 60s and 70s. lots of amazing photos of her friends. www.marinawilliams.com/polaroids she really is an amazing photographer herself. It really made me feel like I've been missing out on being around more thriving artistic souls. my artistic side hasn't been thriving for some time. every now and then I pick up the guitar and play and sing. but the desire to really feel it isn't there.
I'm getting down with the realization I have to work for the next six days straight. good times. plus I miss feeling my kitten plop down on my chest.
When all else fails and you want to disappear completely... clean your kitchen and eat a few boca burgers. and avoid the world. listen to kristin hersh. strange angels is really amazing. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 21st, 2005|03:56 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | denial | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | clap your hands say yeah! - heavy metal | ] |
it's all about distractions now. anything to take my mind off of moz. i'm still in disbelief about it. but life goes on, no matter how shitty and unfair it is a lot of the time. first on the agenda is tonight's afterparty for flickerstick. it was all very last minute. but since this is a free show for a second rate band that got it's 5 seconds of fame on VH-1's Battle of the Bands... we figure it's a good way to attract new people over to the Bank to hear Harold and Mod sets. If you live in the Tampa bay area and have nothing better to do on a Sunday night... come out around 10ish or after. I'll be looking like hot shit while feeling like shit but hiding it well.
soon I'm going to visit the family to celebrate my mother's 64th birthday. I'm in the mood to be around family and see my little nephew, Ronen. I'm in the mood to be out of Florida. I'm in the mood to be anywhere else. meh. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 20th, 2005|02:36 pm] |
i was supposed to go to work today. i woke up early this morning to take my kitten Moz to the vet. I'm sitting here with the realization that he's no longer here, but hopefully in a better place. I had to put him down because he had FIP... which is apparently feline parasitus. His liver was failing and his stomach was filled with yellow fluid. I had to run out of the vet because i couldn't hold it together. I wanted more than anything for him to be alright. But there was no point in being in denial about things.
I can't stop thinking about how he cuddled and slept near me all of last night. I told my dad I hope somoene gave him some sort of affection before they put him to sleep. It had been sooo long since I cried about anything. Who knew a little adorable kitten is all it would take to break the dam.
and i know there's millions of little kittens in the world. I just wanted him. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Aug. 11th, 2005|08:22 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | jon brion - here we go | ] |
You've gotta hope
That there's someone for you
As strange as you are
Who can cope
With the things that you do
Without trying too hard
'Cause you can bend the truth
Till it's suiting you
These things that you're wrapping all
around you
Never know what they will amount to
If your life is just going on without you
It's the end of the things you know
Here we go
You've gotta know
That there's more to this world
Than what you have seen
'Cause we all
Have a limited view
Of what it can be
As we move along
With our blinders on
Each one of us feels a little stranded
And you can't explain or understand it
Each one of us is on a different planet
Amidst all the to and fro
Someone can say hello
Here we go
Feeling that someone really gets you
Well it's something that no one should
object to
It could happen today so I suggest you
Skip your habbit of laying low
It's the end of the things you know
Here we go
Someone can say hello
You old so and so
Here we go |
|
|
| oh sailor why'd you do it? |
[Jul. 27th, 2005|07:53 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | blah | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | sufjan stevens - chicago | ] |
it's been a while since I've updated. here goes.
two weeks ago I adopted a two month old gray and black striped kitten. he's adorable, frisky and .... pretty much the sum total of enjoyment in my life. His name is Moz. yes... after morrissey. It fits him. He's very pretty and elegant.
Pretty lady has not taken well to the adjustment of another cat around. But she's slowly coming around. She's on my lap asleep as I'm typing this pointless entry.
I broke down and bought a shitload of groceries today. I've been spending way too much money on food during the week at work. This way I can conserve money, pack lunches and not go negative in my bank account before my next paycheck rolls around. Let's hope this plan works.
For a week after the Bravery afterparty at the Bank, I had been flying high... thinking about the opportunity of taking over this town with the best music selection in all of Tampa Bay. Last night's technical difficulties were frustrating and made sure to bring me down from cloud 9. But that shit is bound to happen here and there. These nights can not always run smoothly and I have to keep that in mind.
Thanks again Jaime for coming to see me and catching up. Tell Teri I enjoyed her company last night too.
damn you vanilla coke for tasting soo fucking good. and you too, m&m chocolate chip cookies from Publix. |
|
|
| and so it goes..... |
[Jun. 29th, 2005|10:38 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | depressed | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Creeper Lagoon - Cellophane | ] |
Earlier today I went to a rally for the Anniversary sale that is starting July 17th at Nordstrom. All the buyers for clothing, shoes and accessories for our southern district were there. The Gordon Rush buyer (who is actually hot) held my hand for an extended period of time. I almost had to ask for my hand back. In truth, I enjoyed the delay and was hoping maybe he would lick it. He lives in San Diego. If I didn't have to be a professional I would just call him up and ask him to be my sugar daddy. meh.
I probably could have gone back to work after the convention but I decided I'd rather go home and nap for three hours. Making money probably would have been a better way to pass the time but since I technically had the day off according to the schedule... I wasn't going to go in. I need the time away. I need a rest. I think every retail position loses its appeal after a couple of months. I couldn't be excited about selling shoes forever. After blowing through three different jobs in over nine months I'm still finding that a job is a job.... is a job. But I'm going to stick it out here. I need the stability in pay and I need to get some kind of health insurance again. I'm just lazy and unmotivated. The two newbies are fucking sharks on the floor. It sucks.
The turnout at the Bank was disappointing. I realize it was rainy but we need to draw out a better crowd if the night is going to continue. I also realize it's a Tuesday night... which isn't exactly convenient for everyone. In all rationality we can't compete with the sink or swim night that goes on in Tampa on Saturdays. Laurel and I also wanted to make it on a night when most everyone in the Bay area can't figure out what the hell to do with their evening. The Bank really is a great venue and it would be unfortunate if it closes due to lack of public exposure. If you live in the Tampa Bay area, PLEASE come check us out next Tuesday, July 5th. We play an amazing mix of indie rock, post punk, brit pop, alt country, hip hop and more. Keep your 4th of July buzz going. There will be $2 wells from 10 to midnight and $2 PBRs all night.
Also, if you have any suggestions where we could promote our night, feel free to let me know. We have the Myspace thing covered. check it out at www.myspace.com/haroldandmod |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
heturnsdown's journal