Thursday, Oct. 02, 2003 - 9:57 a.m.
This part was written last night:
Band practice was fairly lame, as it has been for months now. About half way through I started wondering for pretty much the first time ever whether Iíll be a musician forever. If I werenít in a band, would I continue picking up my guitar year after year? Would I write songs if nobody was going to work on them with me or hear them? Why am I not working on these things now Ė how is it that Iíve been a mediocre bass player for six years now and am still unsure whether I even like doing this? Iím having a hard time right now separating being in a band from being a musician, because I have never been one without the other. Oh, and Iím drunk.
I love being in a band. I love the collaborative creativity (when it actually happens), because itís so unlike me to accept input and work toward something with other people. Itís still scary when it works, and I know itís good for me. And I especially love being in a band socially. Itís how I finally became comfortable in both Durango and Columbia. I donít like being a fan of bands, and itís all different when youíre in another bandÖthe interactions are all different. Going to shows, talking to other bands, planning inane side projectsÖitís all much more a relationship of equals when Iím in a band. I like local insider band gossip and advice and trading compliments. I donít like being just anyone in the audience. I like being able to congratulate someone on a well-played show, and hearing the inevitable ďSo, when are you guys playing?Ē Itís pride, I guess. I donít want to be nobody. I donít want to be a band girlfriend. I want people to know that Iím not just some dizzy indie girl.
But I donít know if the musical passion is enough to keep me doing this.
[And then she went to bed, and the cat slept on her feet, and she woke up the next morning feeling both less drunk and less worried about any of it].
I just did something I havenít done since I was an undergraduate. I was supposed to meet with my insurance agent about some health insurance Ė my student plan expires at the end of October, and adjunct employment provides no benefits. Iím having fun here at home in pajama bottoms, though, and Iíll have to be on campus until after 7 PM, so I decided to cancel the appointment. I called the secretary and croaked ďIím not going to be able to make my appointment todayĒ. ďAre you feeling alright?Ē she asks. ďWell, *cough*, Iím actually not, but thanks for asking.Ē She murmured, ďOh, I really hope you feel betterĒ, and my mission was complete. I just totally played sick! I should go smoke cigarettes behind the convenience store now, or maybe spent three hours at Taco Bell making a mess with salt and salsa packets.
I just remembered a funny thing from a long time ago: When my friend John and I were nerdy Resident Assistants (yes, we were those peppy assholes who got you in trouble for smoking pot), the Housing office was always trying to elect an RA of the Week. John would always mutter ďRAÖOF THE WEAKĒ in his hardcore growl, and I would giggle. Any expression involving ď____ of the WeekĒ still makes me giggle. It is a good thing I donít work in corporate America.
This e/a alternation upon which the above joke is predicated has reminded me of this. I think the chart is very nice and entertaining, but you are to focus on the comments below it, especially the ones involving the word Ďcompleatí. There are more comments about it here.
Iíd like to investigate the phenomenon of Internet Spelling Police further, but I need to take a shower instead. I should feel vindicated that the ISP screwed up this time, but somehow I'm just more annoyed than ever.