pistolwhip

Thursday, March 30, 2006

I've been thinking stuff. I've been compiling lists. I have notepads with stuff in them in my purse. But:

No time, no time, no time, no time
No time, no time, no time, no time
I got, got, got, got no time
I got, got, got, got no time
I got, got, got, got no time
No-no-no, no-no-no, no time
No-no-no, no-no-no, no time
I got, got, got, got no time
No-no-no, no-no-no, no-no-no,
no-no-no, no-no-no, no-no-no, no time
I got no time, got no time, got no time, got no time, got no time


--End of a Guess Who song.

Two years ago I was getting tired of school, and people.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Are you fucking with me?
Why do people do that to one another?

Don't trust anyone.

Two years ago, I quizzed y'all. (It doesn't seem to work now.)

Friday, March 17, 2006

I don't fucking want to play this tonight.

Yes, I'm a bitter and bad person.

I wonder what Saint Patrick would think of being called "Patty," or worse, "Paddy."

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Venues, venues, venues.

If you live in Halifax, or if you did, or if you've been reading this for awhile, you might know that venues have been closing (and opening) in Halifax for a long time. The Khyber is the most recent casualty I can think of. But really, I've only been there a handful of times since Craig gave it up (love him on Global News), and those were mostly Burdocks or Dog Day shows (and one System Shit show). The Hold were booked to play their first and only Khyber show, when the city prematurely decided to change the locks. The club somehow got them to let them stay open to the previously agreed to date, to allow for the festival they had been planning for close to a year, but by then we had cancelled our show. At least I got to play there with the Briefs twice.

The Seahorse has been referred to by me as "R.I.P." That's not entirely accurate as the placed never closed (save for some renovations). They also changed formats. Some people felt they were unwelcome there anymore. Some people asked me if I was boycotting the place. I still haven't been in, but I'm not boycotting the place.

Progress. Progress is hard because it has to be smart and change can be difficult. I understand. I don't cope with change well, even if you don't know what I'm thinking and don't know a change in plans is happening.

Many people are nostalgic to the Seahorse as a rock bar. The city's oldest tavern. Now it's called the Seahorse Room. Another part of the Shoe Shop. There's a staircase from upstairs into or near the smoking/pool room. I am nostalgic too. I loved the place. I'd say my favourite shows to play and attend were there, but I was so drunk I don't remember them. Years later, that makes them worth less.

But I remember before it was a rock bar. Am I really that old? I still feel like a kid.

I went there on my nineteenth birthday. I was living in Liverpool. I became a Christian, grew my hair, and almost quit smoking. I realized that I wanted to go to university, and that I wanted to take science, but I had dropped all my science and high math in grade 12 due to depression and the beginning of my addictions.

Anyway, it was a Monday night, and we went to the Tickle Trunk just after dinner. I didn't know what to get, so KC ordered me a "girly drink" because I was turning nineteen and I didn't know anything about it. As a teen, I just drank beer, or hard liquor mixed with pop/juice. I didn't know the names of drinks. He gave me something pink.

Then we went to the Seahorse. They had just started having shows there, and Jeff Gay and the Distractions were playing.

So yeah, it's evolving. Businesses change to keep up. It makes sense for that power bar on Argyle to have roam of the basement too, and not have it full with messy, stinky, noisy riff-raff. Give them Hell.

I'm very excited for Hell to open up again. When Dog Day played that Marquee show, it felt so weird to be in there. It had been so long. I wanted to go downstairs. I want to play downstairs.

Two years ago, I posted the lyrics to a JD song.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Blah blah blah, blah blah blahblah.

What's the point?

I used to love conversation. I used to be kind of good at it. I really enjoyed just talking to people and listening to them in return. I liked learning things and admitting I was wrong or mistaken. I liked telling people things they didn't know. We could talk about similar interests and just enjoy each other's company. Or, we could discuss and debate things. Topics on which we have drastically different opinions. It can be so thrilling to try to understand why someone thinks the way they do. To try to show each other a glimpse of a different point of view. We may agree to disagree in the end, but we'll be better off for having discussed it.

But, I've been reminded that people would just rather me sit pretty and keep my mouth shut. Speak when spoken to, but only to nod in agreement. Do not show any signs of thought.

People don't hear me. Or, when they do, they miss the point.

Is there a point of talking if the point of everything you've said flies past (but not necessarily above) your listener's head?

I can't see one.

Conversation is sometimes referred to as an art, and I've never been much of an artist.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

(I actually wrote this a while ago, at work, but it generally applies now as well)

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There are many things I'd wanted to talk about. But time keeps going by and things go unsaid. So, tonight, I'm not sure what I'd rather discuss. My upcoming wedding and the stress, planning, and fear that goes along with it. Not to mention the excitement and joy. Or the absurd conversation I had with my mother more than 10 years ago that I've recently been obsessing over (it kind of relates to the wedding). The election (2 weeks ago already!![now a month and a half ago]). Or maybe I'd like to talk about face-blindness and how knowing about it doesn't make it any less embarrassing, but if you know that I can't help it, maybe it wouldn't seem as rude. There's depression, not boo-hoo I'm so depressed, but as a topic itself, highschool, bullies and my oversensitivity when I perceive something as someone being bullied. Definitions I've never been able to get, that commercial that I've wanted to mention for years, the fucking venues opening and closing and having problems right when a band of mine was booked to play (again).

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Well, I guess I'm just gonna post what I wrote about wondering what to write about. My dinner break is over and I have someone paper-work to do.

Last year, I was angry at Visa. A few weeks ago, they called me at work over $20. I didn't get mad this time.