Overthunk

This weekend there's a rock show going down at a festival that's being held in Corpus Christi. And just because it's an eight hour drive, or a $275.00 plane ticket and a hurricane passed through there a few days ago, none of my friends want to go. It's clear that no one loves rock 'n' roll like I do. Perhaps, despite my absence at their bacchanalia, I will appease the gods of rock with the fervor of my pouting.

Lately I've been taken with the notion of writing songs. I don't know why. I love songs. I write poems. But I really never considered combining the two until recently. So the other day I was sitting in yet another boring work training trying to pen some boss-hatin' song lyrics while appearing to be diligently taking notes, when I realized that Fred Durst had already expressed my feelings far more eloquently than I could. While I was penning weakass stuff, Limp Bizkit had already captured my emotional state in the classic "Break Stuff": Its just one of those days When you don't wanna wake up Everything is fucked, Everybody sux You don't really know why But you wanna justify Rippin' someone's head off No human contact And if you interact Your life is on contract Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker It's just one of those days!! Its all about the he says she says bullshit I think you better quit Lettin' shit slip Or you'll be lea...

or just a Note To Self: Don't shoot tequila while doing this. Just don't, alright?

Four years ago at this time, I was riding shotgun in a speeding truck with a chica of mine. She's from Texas too, but was living in DC then. I was jobless and there for a visit. When I'd bought the return ticket, I had a choice of a 10 am or 5 pm flight out on September 11. I didn't feel like I'd want to get up that early, so I picked the evening flight. That morning, another chica of ours had called us up, telling us to turn on the news. The phone call woke us up and we were sure it was a joke. The first thing I saw when I woke up that morning was the smoking Pentagon. The next thing I did after picking my jaw up off the floor was start packing. She did too. There was no discussion or planning. We knew what we had to do: get back to Texas. We didn't know what was going to happen, we didn't know if there were ground troops, we didn't know if there would be roadblocks, but we did know that we were going to make it back to where that Lone Star was flying or di...

so maybe that's why I had a weirdass dream in which I was doing like a one woman improvisational show. In my dream, I was creating an impromptu sketch, and I was Eve (of the "Adam and" variety) and I was playing the part like Eve was a dippy broad and the apple was some kind of unmissable shoe sale type deal that had to be seen and done (eaten). And I kept having Adam dudes come up and try to have their way while I was doing the sketch. And the end of the sketch, I took the apple and took a huge bite, and it went "CRUNCH!" and the audience (who seemed to be mostly older women) gasped audibly. And then both the dream and the show ended simultaneously. So it was kind of brilliant, if I had a script. Perhaps I should write one. Oh yeah, LVLH comes in because in it, there's a guy with Adam and Eve entertwined in a tattoo on his arm. And it's a nifty book from which a movie is being made. And, not being a current events commentator, I have nothing of value to...