I'd like to believe that there is some sort of karmic balance to the universe. That for every great heartache, there is a great rebound. For every great loss, a great gain. I'd like to believe that every time the Cubs are pounded 15 to 6, they will come back and pound someone else by the same margin. I'd like to believe that for every great love lost, there is a greater love out there to be found.

My friends tell me I'm a lonely person, but only if you get to know me. Maybe that's true. And as near as I can tell, there are two ways to deal with loneliness -- either just deal with it or find someone to make you not lonely anymore. I choose the former. Yes, it is a conscious choice. Yes, I am aware of the ramifications of my choice. But I loved very deeply once and it didn't work out and I hurt very badly for a very long time. So I am waiting for my even greater love to come along. I've seen glimmers of it here and there, but I haven't found it yet. And knowing how wonderful it is to truly love someone, I'm happy to wait for that opportunity to come along again as opposed to finding someone to simply fill the void. I'll fill the void with music. I'll fill the void with dance. I'll fill the void with performance and writing. But I'm not going to subject another human being to being the thing to keep me occupied because I'm afraid of being alone. That's not fair to that other person.

Mine is a hopeful loneliness, not a sad one.

I wore one of my sarongs to work today, as a skirt, because I woke up thinking, "I want to be comfortable today." And truth be told, it does look pretty nice. Not necessarily something I would wear if I had a big meeting today or anything, but I don't look slovenly. And this woman who works upstairs commented that it is a very pretty skirt. She said, "I used to wear stuff like that when I was young." And I thought to myself, "Dear God, please don't let me turn out like that when I get old." She's a nice woman, but she's always walking around in such a hurry. Her shoes make more noise than anybody else's because she walks so hard. And she has this kind of stern demeanor about her. She looks to be the sort who was born wearing horn-rimmed glasses with a very practical haircut, you know? And my question is, what happened? What happens to people when they get older that they forget how to live? They forget the joy of comfortable clothing? They forget the pleasure of walking? Not everyone, mind you, but this woman just admitted to me that she used to wear the kind of clothing I just proclaimed five days ago as solidifying my hippie status, and now she wears suits every day and loud, pointy shoes. What happened to her?

I hope I always wear comfortable shoes. I hope I never forget to stop and smell the flowers. I hope I can always allow myself a solitary movie/pizza night once in a while. Bruce Almighty is actually pretty good, by the way. Much better than I was expecting, anyway. Anyway. I think even more than I would be disappointed in myself for changing my musical style or starring in some bit of tripe like Dude, Where's My Car? I would be disappointed in myself if I turned completely into a corporate schill who wears suits and pointy shoes and scares the crap out of everybody when I walk into the room because they know I mean business, even though the business that I mean is very dull and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. If I ever turn into that person, you are all welcome to call me a sell out.

If there was one baseball game you should have been at, it was last night's Cubs game against the Brewers. Three-run homer for the Cubs in the first inning. Grand slam by Derrik Lee in the second. Solo home run by Aramis Ramirez in the third. Two-run shot by Derrick again in the fourth. They hit for the home run cycle. The only thing missing was an in-the-park home run. It was great. We trounced the Brewers and got to do a lot of yelling.

And I heard probably the best random comment I've ever heard at a ball park. After Aramis' home run in the third, a gentleman sitting a couple of rows behind me and off to the right said, "Cue the fat lady." I got a nice chuckle out of that.

So yeah, yeah Cubbies. I've had so much fun rediscovering baseball over the last year and a half. I've always been a fan, but I kind of fell out of it for a while there. I'm so glad I'm back. Wrigley Field is magical. Baseball is satisfying. The Cubs are the greatest team in baseball, even in years when they can't win to save their lives. Thanks, guys, for bringing so much joy back into my life.

I think this job is making me sick. I never feel good when I'm here.

Eh, motivation to get off my ass and do something creative. Like write a children's show to go up next fall. It's something to think about anyway...

It's official.

Grades have been posted.

I completed the Lawyer's Assistant Program.

With straight H's.

H for "honors."

It's like getting straight A's, but in a non-credit program.

So I got no credit hours for my eight classes, just eight H's.

And I can wear my H's like a badge of honor.

Because H is for honor.

I know that for some people, getting married is still the thing to do. It sounds like a good idea at the time, so they go for it. Fine. Groovy. Best of luck to them. But how does one pull one's friend aside and say, "Dude, you're marrying the wrong person?" The answer is, one doesn't. One just hangs one's head and makes that "tsk, tsk" noise with one's tongue and hopes that five years from now, the divorce isn't too terrible.

The thing about being vegan for me is that I don't view it as a limiting diet. I know that sounds completely insane, but I don't see it that way. Yes, there are a lot of things that I don't eat. But for every thing I gave up, I have found three things to eat that I otherwise would not have and I really like those things. I've gotten much more creative in my diet since I became vegan. No, they aren't monstrous, earth-shattering changes, but they are enough to keep me happy. For instance, I own tumeric. I put grapes in my salad. I cooked teriyaki tofu steaks. I would not have done these things if I did not have cause to and I am so glad I have tried all of these things. They're tasty. And sure, there have been occasions where I have not gone out to eat with a group of people because I knew there wouldn't be anything at the restaurant for me, but the percentage of the time that it is an issue is so minor, it's no worse than when I would just not go because I wasn't feeling social.

So I guess what I'm saying is that veganism is not necessarily about limiting your options. It is about exploring different options. I think that if organizations that want more people to go veggie would present it in that light instead of showing the horrors of slaughterhouses and whatnot, a lot more people would be inclined to try it.

I picked up a couple of sarongs yesterday, because I needed one for Floss! and I have to say I am hooked. They are so comfortable and they are actually flattering on me. The only thing is that I feel like my transformation to complete hippie has taken another major step. I slept late this morning, got up, and put on my sarong and I'm walking around barefoot and eating salad. How much more evidence does one need that I am a hippie? Ah well. Hi, my name is Kitty and I'm a hippie.

So I have this little blog thingy. I've been writing in here for about two and a half years. And over that period of time, the wonderful people at Blogger.com have made updates and revisions to their software to make blogging cleaner, faster, prettier, and more user friendly. However, they have recently done something that is not very pretty. They have added this little search bar at the top of my blog. I'm not diggin' the search bar.

Now, I'm sure that for people with newer templates, the little search bar fits in nicely and doesn't destroy the whole aesthetic of the blog. And in theory, it's a neat idea because you could just type in "Moby" and find all of the entries I've written singing Moby's praises. But I have an older template. One no longer available to new bloggers. And the little search bar does not fit in at all with the aesthetic of my template. In fact, it blocks part of it out. I tried making modifications to my template to allow for the search bar, but they didn't seem to work. I even tried making the search bar silver so it would at least be in the same color family as the rest of my blog. That didn't take.

So my dear, beloved readers, I am aware of the problem. I am trying to remedy it. Of course, if any of the wonderful people at Blogger.com knows how I can simply remove the search bar, or move it to a different location in my blog (as part of the side bar, perhaps?), I would be happy to make those changes as well. But please bear with me in the meantime as my blog looks a little crappy.

And I promise I'll stop saying "blog" soon. It's not a very fun word.

When does one cross over from "good friend" territory into "savior" territory? And how does one know when one has crossed? And how does one prevent oneself from crossing?

I ask because I want to be a good friend to my friends, but I don't want to be responsible for saving anybody. If my friends need to talk to someone, I want to be there to listen to them. If my friends need help getting out of a jam, I want them to know they can turn to me and I'll do what I can. My friends are very important to me and I want them to know that I will always do whatever I can for them. But I know that there are people out there with whom I associate who would very gladly take advantage of that and would use me and abuse me and throw me away, if you know what I'm saying, and I know that I have to steel myself against that happening. I have to know when it is okay to say, "No, I can't directly help you in this case, but here is somewhere else you can turn." That kind of thing. And how does one say that without coming off as a collossal bitch?

I guess what I'm saying is that there is very little I won't do for my friends, but I do need to find some time in there to look out for me, too. I hope you all understand.

I have absolutely nothing to say, so let's see how long I can ramble.

I studied regular Dutch verbs today and how to conjugate them. It is actually kind of interesting. Well, very interesting to me as I really do want to learn how to speak Dutch. I keep watching the Olympics and cheering just as much for the Dutch and the Aussies as I am cheering for the Americans. The men's 200m freestyle was hard on me, as the gold, silver, and bronze went to Australia, Holland, and America, respectively. I kinda wish the Dutch guy had taken the gold, but he took silver so I'm happy. But I really do like the Dutch language. And I think I'm decent at conjugating regular verbs. If only I had someone to practice my conjugations on and someone to help me with my pronunciation. And then there's just the matter of vocabulary. The site I have been using (which is very helpful, by the way) doesn't have a vocabulary section, just grammar rules. It will translate things for you, but I'd still like just a list of vocabulary words that I could practice with. It was kind of nice that in some of the exercises, I recognized a word or two. Ik zal leren.

And it never ceases to amaze me, first of all, that people enjoy listening to my music, but secondly, with how many have heard it and enjoyed it, I still couldn't fill even the smaller concert venues in Chicago. I have a lot of work ahead of me if I want to actually be able to do this for a living. And a lot to do if I want to act for a living. It is all stuff that I can do, there's just a lot of it and it gets daunting sometimes. Which is why I almost wish I was on a t-contract -- so it would kick my ass into gear.

And summer is almost over. Even though it never really got here. I need those two weeks of weather so stinking hot you can't move to offset the Chicago winters. Without my scorching heat, this winter is going to be tough. But I have a lot to look forward to. I'm going back into Floss! as Fluflexakuku Tootrini and so far, I like her very much. Imagine Charlie Chaplin as a flightless bird. Yeah, that's her. She's fun.

Anyway, I have a meeting to get to so I think I'm going to see if I can sneak out a couple of minutes early. Because, as we can all tell, I've been very useful here today at work. Uh huh. And I've got a herd of camels who can do backflips just dying to join your circus if you are interested in purchasing them.

Is "herd of camels" the proper term?

It's just a job, right?

You know how you get to a certain point in your life, relatively often if you're lucky, wherein you have to take stock of what you have and get rid of the junk that you don't need or that is weighing you down? You may do it by cleaning out your closets, or you may examine all of the friendships in your life or whatever. You take stock of what you have and you jettison the junk.

I was talking to my mom about my job last week because I had just been talking to the people at work about my job. I'm not happy here. I've not been happy here for four years. I was content for a while, but now I'm just flat out miserable. I hate having to come here every day and pretend like I have things to do when I get here. It's a waste of my time and a waste of their money. And my mom thought of an option that I had not yet considered -- ask them to fire me. I'm an academic employee, which means I work here on a contractual basis and my contract is renewed yearly. When you fire an academic employee, you put them on a t-contract, which is good for one more year but is non-renewable. So my mom asked what would happen if I asked them to put me on a t-contract. I'd have one more year of steady income, and one year to get my ass in gear and look for the kind of work I actually want to be doing. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, huh? But it scares the living daylights out of me. I have no savings right now. Granted, by the time my year is up, I should have a little bit stashed away. And my monthly expenses will have gone down significantly at that point, too. But the thought of leaving a job with a steady income and great benefits is frightening. Especially with the job market being what it is right now. On the up side, a lot more films and television are being produced in Chicago right now. I could just go bust my ass as a PA for a while. And I'd also have a year to figure all of that stuff out. Because the thought of coming in here everyday for an indefinite amount of time is frightening, too. Ik haat mijn baan.

It's just a job, right?

Good movies always make me think about something. That's why I know they are good movies. If I walk out of the theater wondering what I'm going to have for dinner or if my car got towed, it couldn't have been that good of a movie. If I walk out wanting to cry or reminiscing about a love that never was, I know it was a good movie.

Garden State is a good movie.

I know this because I'm thinking about a love that never was, but at the same time won't die. To the point that I've started to think about someone fifty years from now working on my biography, finding out about this love that never was and writing a stirring, emotional chapter in my biography about how I knew this pure love, but never saw it realized and thus remained single my entire life. And how hundreds of men loved me along the road and did everything they could to make me happy, but none of them could live up to that first love, and isn't that just so romantic? And I'm thinking that relationships are not as easy as they look in the movies. They never work that way. Nobody falls in love in a day and actually acts on it. We're all so fucking paranoid when it comes to relationships that even more frightening than the phrase "You're going to die today" is the phrase "I love you." And how messed up is that? And I'm thinking that if I ever meet Zach Braff, I will have to not only compliment him on his film, but also on his musical tastes -- there's a Colin Hay tune in the movie.

And more than anything, I'm thinking that I want to be an actor when I grow up. And I want to grow up tomorrow.

I have a friend who is currently in Athens a tthe Olympics. Not competing -- he's part of the press that is over there. And I can't even begin to tell you how jealous I am. I think what I love about eh Olympics is that it is a healthy form of competition. It's not about who has the biggest guns or the most money or whatever. The country that sends one athlete is just as much in the games and is just as celebrated as the country that sends 500 athletes. It was really nice to see the American athletes get a nice, warm welcome. And it was equally heartwarming to see the warm welcome for the Iraqi delegation. I would like to see Iraqis and Americans competing in various events, and have them both win alternating events, or have them both loose all of those events. Show everyone that we're all just people, you know? Everyone there is there to play hard and do the best they can. Everyone wants to win. Everyone is playing by the same rules. It's too bad we can't resolve all of our conflicts like that.

Someday, I'd like to see some Olympic games. I'd like to be there for the Opening Ceremonies, to see the glory and the spectacle of all of it. But especially in times like these, I'd like to be in a great big room where everyone is accepting of everyone else, all in the spirit of healthy, athletic competition. I dunno. Maybe I'm nuts, but I have to think that it would be nice to be in a room that electric.

...and done.

Unless something goes horribly wrong, I graduated from paralegal school with honors. Straight honors, as in, honors in all of my classes. It's like graduating with a 4.0. That is, unless something goes horribly wrong. But on the final I took last night and the one I just finished taking online today, I am fairly confident that I got the grades I needed to graduate with all honors.

So now what? Now I'm going to go play my guitar in a coffee shop for tips.

More upcoming gigs! Yay!

Same venue, but still. First of all, it means they liked me enough the first time to bring me back. Good thing. And second, it's a chance to just kind of go and get my feet wet with the whole "gigging" thing. The more you do it, the easier it gets. And this is a pretty low pressure venue, so I don't have to be freaking out about being judged too harshly or anything.

So yay. I'm excited that I get to play out some more. I can really do this, you know? Yay me.

*ring, ring*

"Hello?"

"Hi. Yes, I'm trying to reach Mr. John Doe."

"Well, you're obviously not trying hard enough."

*click*

Tee hee.

I've been meaning to write about this all day and I'm just now getting to it. I know, I suck. Please forgive me.

I went to an open mic last night and had so much fun, I can't even tell you. I was flying. And in case you haven't been keeping up with your Kitty Reading, I've not been flying about much of anything recently, so it felt really good. I went with the intention of playing "Regardless," just to try playing it out, you know? But the place I went usually lets you do three songs. So I walk in the door with my mind pretty much made up that I'll cover a Rachel Yamagata song, too, but that I'll just do the two. That's all I really wanted to do. And when I get there, the guys running it both come over and say hi and ask if I'm going to play and I sign up and whatnot. And while they are playing at the start of the night, they said something along the lines of, "We're going to play one more and then Kitty is going to come up and do a couple. She's a very talented Chicago singer/songwriter, and she's played here and at Uncommon Ground at at the coffee house down the street, Red Eyes?" at which point I nodded, "and we're very lucky to have here here tonight. So she'll be coming up in a minute, and a few other people have signed up so it should be a good night." Or something to that effect. The important bit being: I was plugged! They made a special point of mentioning that I was going to play. These guys only know me from playing out. They only know me as a musician. I only know them as musicians. And without asking for it or saying anything, bam! They gave me a nod in their set. I was floored and tickled pink all at the same time. I started thinking, "Wow. I could really do this. I could really be a musician, running around playing gigs. And people other than my family (though I love you very much) would show up to see it." I felt great.

So I got up to play a little later (turns out another guy signed up to play before me, but it was all good) and by that time I was all kinds of nervous. They had built me up to the audience. What if I sucked? So I said, "Hi. I'm Kitty. Originally, I just wanted to play one song tonight, but it's kind of a downer and I started thinking that might not be the best impression to give a room full of people who've never heard me play before, so I'll play two." At which point, people cheered. "Yeah, so I'll play this one first. It's not mine, but it is by another lovely and talented Chicago singer/songwriter, Rachel Yamagata." More cheers. I start thinking, "Oh, crap, they know the song and they're going to be pissed that I'm slaughtering it." But I said, "It's called 'Worn Me Down.'" And I played it. And damn, I sounded good. I got a little bit of the great throaty thing going near the end of the song when I belted it, too, and the crowd went nuts. As soon as I finished the song, they started yelling, "Do three! Do three!" I told them to get back to me after "Regardless." I've played "Regardless" better at home, but the first time a song appears in front of people is never the best. You have to get used to playing it in front of people. Especially when it's so personal. But when I finished, they all yelled for me to do one more. I didn't know what to play, so I closed with "Hamburg." In retrospect, I should have played "Astoria Park" or "That's What You Get" to really seal the night, but they seemed to enjoy all three songs anyway, so it's all good. And I got a lot of nice comments from people afterwards, too.

I know my entries are boring when I'm just telling a story. But I felt so good last night. So good. The fact that they mentioned me in their set, as a kind of "stick around to see this chick, because she's good" thing felt like...it's like I've been recognized by my peers as a legitimate musician. I think more than being booked at a certain venue, that made me feel like I've made it. I'm not just a paralegal who writes songs in her spare time. I'm not a girl who kind of knows how to play the guitar and has a thing for lyrics. It's not just a hobby. I'm a musician. That feels really good to say that. And somehow even better to have someone else say it. Someone who I also respect as a musician, you know?

I'm sure I just offended somebody by saying that. That wasn't my intent. I love hearing from family and friends and many of you are musicians as well. It was just different somehow. Like the difference between your mom telling you your show was good and getting a good review in the newspaper. If that makes any sense.

I'll stop gloating now. I just wanted to make sure I can come back and remember my first official nod as a Chicago musician. It might not seem like much, but it meant the world to me.

Today's topic: Strip clubs.

Yes, I've been to a few. Truth be told, they're no big deal. I always go with a group of guys and aside from maybe one of them who hasn't gotten any in a long time, they all seem pretty nonplussed about the whole experience, too. Let's examine why.

You have a mainstage upon which a girl will come out in some skimpy dress. She "dances" for a little while, which usually amounts to her walking back and forth between a couple of poles, trying not to fall over in her eighteen-inch platform shoes. She's moving in slow motion, because apparently, that's sexy, even though the music being played is thumping techno or bass-heavy R&B. And by the time the second song starts, that's the time for her to take off the skimpy dress, so now she's walking back and forth in slow motion just wearing a thong, because apparently, that's sexy. And occasionally, she'll lower herself to the floor in some seductive way to let someone shove a dollar bill into her garter belt or shoe. And when her second song is over, she puts her dress back on and walks around the club, offering lap dances to the patrons. If someone purchases one of these lap dances, said girl will gyrate (still in slow motion) in front of said patron for a little while, wearing the skimpy dress, which she will then seductively remove and continue to gyrate in front of said patron for a little while. When said gyrating is done, she puts her dress back on and walks around the club some more.

Now, first of all, the girls aren't really dancing. Sure, it's probably tricky in those shoes, but come on. If you want dollars, work for them. You have to do something other than just being naked. I've talked to enough guys who are of the same opinion to know that this isn't just me. You will get the occasional girl who can do some pretty cool things with a pole, and those girls deserve tips. But a lot of them just look bored and uninterested. That, to me, is decidedly not sexy.

And secondly, why put the dress back on? We've already seen everything you have to offer. Not that the dress leaves much to the imagination, but we've just seen you "dancing" naked on stage. Do you really think we're sitting here thinking, "Gee, I wonder what she looks like without that dress? Maybe if I buy a lap dance from her, I'll get to find out." No. We already know what you look like without a dress. So unless you are going to be uber sexy in how you take the dress off (which most of them aren't because let's face it, it's hard to step out of a knit dress gracefully when you're wearing eighteen-inch spiked heels), just leave it off. All this dressing and undressing just gets tedious.

And finally, the drinks in these places. I would think that it would be in the club's best interest to serve strong drinks. Patrons will get drunker faster and spend more money on more drinks and more dances. The drinks in these places are notoriously weak. Which, I guess one could argue makes patrons buy more drinks in an attempt to get drunk, but after about the second drink, when you still have not noticed a trace of alcohol, you start to feel that you are wasting your time and money and maybe you should just go home. Again, I've heard men voice this same opinion, so I know it's not just me.

So all in all, I find strip clubs to be throughly unimpressive. Or at least the ones I've been to. And I've been to a few. Maybe I'm expecting too much as a fellow woman with different ideas of what is sexy and what is not, but I find strip clubs to be decidely not sexy. They do, in a weird way, make me feel better about myself, though. I know I dance better than that.

I'm kind of in love with my new song. I guess that's normal. I think every artist falls in love with his or her work when it is new and the emotions that fueled the creation are still fresh. I sometimes feel like I'm being egotistical when I walk around with my own song stuck in my head. And I know I must drive my neighbors crazy, playing the same song over and over and over again. But I like this one. And Owen likes this one. And that's really all that matters, isn't it?

And please cross your fingers for me. I e-mailed a record label today to see if I could send them my disc. I'm not banking too much on it, but hey, it's a step, right?

I've been in such a foul mood as of late, I decided to have a hermit night last night. I ordered a pizza, watched some TV, and didn't answer my phone. I apologize to my friend who kept calling -- I did get your message, but I really didn't want to talk to anyone or have to explain why I didn't want to talk to anyone. It's nothing personal.

I did write a new song, though. It's kind of haunting and heart-wrenching. I know, big change for me. But it's kind of spooky. And it's one of those songs that is really about one thing, but sounds like it could be about something else. I'm guessing most people will think it is about the something else, and that's fine. I hope that one day the person I wrote it for gets to hear it and I wonder if that person will think it is about the something else. I still need to tweak the ending a little bit. I'm not totally happy with some of the lyrics. But all in all, I like it. It's been running through my head all morning. Maybe because I woke up early enough that I got to play it before I came in to work. But yeah, I think I'll call it "Regardless." That's a good name.

And now I have to go sleep through a meeting. I mean, take minutes at a meeting.

I got into an argument with one of my classmates last night about the nature of the American legal system. She argues that it is great because pretty much anyone can sue pretty much anyone else for pretty much anything. I think it is terrible for exactly that reason. And it got me to thinking and I have realized exactly why it is that I don't want to be a lawyer or a paralegal.

I'm not vindictive enough.

The guy who hit me with his car. Sure, I could sue him, but what good would that do? I wasn't really hurt. I should sue him to recover my ten dollar copay from my doctor's visit? I should sue him so that he'll learn his lesson? I'm not going to sue somebody over ten dollars and truth be told, any good lawyer would laugh in my face. And as far as teaching him a lesson -- maybe I'm being naive, but I'd like to think that he's sitting at home thinking he's just as lucky as I was. I'm lucky I wasn't killed. He's lucky he didn't kill me. Next time, he could kill somebody. So maybe he'll pay a little more attention so next time won't happen.

Am I crazy for thinking that way? Am I, cynic to rival the best cynics, putting too much faith in human nature by believing that a person's pocketbook does not have to be completely emptied before they will learn something?

I'm not saying that all lawsuits are frivolous. Yes, the people who are injured so badly they can't work for the rest of their lives should be able to recover damages from the careless idiot whose fault it was. Yes, criminals who break the law should be prosecuted. But there are also a lot of lawsuits filed that don't need to be. If one person would just step up and say, "Look. You fucked up. I know you didn't mean to, but you did. Don't let it happen again," and walk away from it, how much more efficient would our court system be? Maybe this is why so many cases settle out of court -- those are the suits that shouldn't have even been filed in the first place and the one side knows it, so they settle just to avoid the hassle. Why couldn't both sides realize that sooner and not file in the first place?

I dunno. I don't understand that vindictive mentality. I don't understand the need to make somebody pay for every bad thing that happens in life. Should I sue all of the kids who teased me at school for mental anguish? No. I'm a stronger, more confident person because I had to learn to deal with that and how to love myself even with all of those flaws that they were so anxious to point out. Should I sue my parents for getting divorced and making me miserable at the time? No. Again, I'm a stronger person because of that experience. Should I sue the guy who ran me over? No. I wasn't injured. Should I sue the guy who stole laundry detergent out of the trunk of my car? No. It's fuckin' laundry detergent.

I guess I'm just saying that people should toughen up and take responsibility. No, I was not responsible for getting hit. But I was responsible for realizing that dragging that man to court would be a waste of my time and energy, his time and energy, our lawyer's time and energy, the court's time and energy, and the time and energy of all of our combined families and friends. And I will happily own that realization.

I'm not saying people who have been truly wronged shouldn't seek retrobution. I'm not trying to deny anyone's right to do so. I'm just saying that just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

Does that make me nuts?

I saw a little bit of the segement with Bill Clinton on Dave Letterman last night and I have to say, I forgot what it was like to have the leader of the free world be literate.

Let me say this right quick: I know very little about Bill Clinton's presidency. I am not saying he was perfect and Shrub sucks because he's not like Clinton. Shrub does plenty of sucking on his own -- no comparisons are necessary. I'm just saying it was nice to hear someone talk about politics who has been there and knows what he's talking about.

That being said, he's a very intelligent man. He wasn't bad-mouthing the current administration, but he did find certain areas that gave him pause and he commented on them. Like the fact that we have so few troops in Afghanistan, which is where the real threat lies. He said something about how it's good that Hussein is no longer in power because nobody likes Hussein, but bin Laden is the real threat and perhaps had we pursued that, this information we are just now decoding that is three years old might have been found a year ago. That kind of thing. I kind of got the impression that he was saying that while some of Shrub's decisions have resulted in sort of good things happening, if he had made other decisions, even more better things could have happened. It was kind of nice to hear that perspective. And from someone who can speak extemperaneously without sounding like a total boob.

I think I'm going to have to do another of my almost-patented "I'm not going to drink for a while" things again. I didn't drink last night and it felt good, but I have noticed that the amount of alcohol I consume each time I go out is rising. It's not just one drink, it's three. And while that's okay every once in a while, I don't need to be doing that all of the time. That's too much. So yeah, maybe until the end of the month or something, no more booze for me.

There is very little stranger than riding an elevator that does not play muzak (or music) and suddenly hearing, very loudly and distinctly, a man's voice saying, "Shut up, George."

I hadn't had anything really strange happen to me in a few days, so that kind of made me happy. Thanks, guy who's pissed at George.

So I played a little show in a coffee shop yesterday and made twelve dollars in tips. Not too shabby for such a little place with such bad sound. The microphone only worked intermittantly, and when the guitar was not plugged into an amp, so I had to ditch a couple of my quieter songs, but I think people had a good time anyway. In retrospect, I didn't play one request, but it was a quiet one, so I don't know how well it would have worked out if I tried it. And people say I sounded good. As in, I was belting stuff out like they've never heard me belt stuff out before. That felt good. I feel like I'm ready to go out and play a million venues and open for whoever. It's almost too bad that I'm going to be so insanely busy until...November.

But thank you to everyone who came out yesterday to see me play. And thank you to those of you who threw a couple bucks in the tip jar. Made me feel like an actual musician. Someday...