Friday, April 30, 2004

It's Friday and I've got worked piled up, yet am having problems getting motivated. This probably explains why I'm here instead of transcribing interview tapes.

Checked out Bulldog the other night at Southpaw in Brooklyn. Got there fine, watched the show, the band has a blues rock flavor that called to mind an updated version of The Band, Buffalo Springfield with a lot of southern rock/blues thrown in. Not my particular cup of musical tea, but that genre is like a lot of the other 70's music that's coming back. There is a resurgence of 70's musical sensibilities right now. I guess we're done mining the late 80's early 90's for musical influences. Bulldog is a tight band, they've a strong stage presence and will probably do very well.

When I left the club, made one of my fabulous wrong turns and got amazingly lost. I'm the only person trotting about Brooklyn--streets were deserted--have a couple of beers, so I'm also loopy. This is not a winning combo when you want to go home and have no clue where you are. I knew I was somewhere in the Northern Hemisphere but that was about it. Finally found a subway. I wanted to jump for joy when I saw the giant blue "M," wrong subway and yup, took me two hours to get home. Did I mention that when I took the right subway to the club it only took me 45 minutes?

Next time I leave Manhattan, I'm leaving a string trail to backtrack my way home.

Nothing new on the boy front, except that when it comes to boys lately, I'm irritated with the gender in general. As much as I enjoy them, they befuddle me, annoy me and make me want to start wishing for a third sex to deal with instead of them.

It's not that I don't enjoy being single, I do enjoy it. I vaguely remember what it was like to be in a relationship and have to "check in" with someone before you did something on your own, with friends etc., and the feeling of being yoked into something always made me feel a tad antsy. Yeah, I know you have to compromise when you're involved with someone, but the idea of saying, "honey I'm going to do..." Made me feel that I was back in grade school and had to get permission to go to the loo. I like autonomy.

I'm not one of those girls who feel lost without a boyfriend. I do think I'd enjoy being involved with someone.

I'm just a bit cranky today and feel very curmudgeonly right now.

Possibly has to do with a boy who insisted I go to a show this week and then didn't bother to show up. Okay, I wouldn't do that to a friend, or an acquaintance or if you think about anybody. That's just too damn rude. Dumb me, thought we were friends too. Yeesh. And I know if I bump into said boy a week or two from now, boy will act as if nothing ever happened. Whereas, I'd have fantasies of smacking him over the head with something or dumping a drink on said boy's head.

If this was a girl type friend instead of a boy type friend, I think I'd do what I'm doing now--that's just writing them off my list of people I know.

Why is it that no matter how old you get, you still have that lingering feeling of high school?

Did get a postcard from Ivan and Roxanne from Dollywood! Yay!

Am off to a CD release party tonight with Katy. Should be fun.

The rest of the day and weekend is writing, writing, writing.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

It's not that many letters!

Have spent the day (so far) working on pitches etc., for work. Went over to the Chicago Tribune website and the article I was interviewed for is finally in print. My name is spelled wrong. But, this is a first! You see for the first time ever, they spelled my last name correctly. This time my first name was spelled wrong. In the piece I'm PG Gach. Usually they add a zillion letters to my last name, not screw up the first.

Oh well.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

It's Sunday, and I'm freezing. It's so damn cold. We will never have spring. We're in a nuclear winter and some one forgot to tell us.

Yeah, I know we've got electricity. I'm thinking, they figured out a way to shield all electronics from the aftermath of the IMP.

Am just cranky because there's no sun.


Saturday, April 24, 2004

The joys of insomnia

Ugh, ugh, ugh, that's all I can say. Made the mistake of napping this afternoon and now at the glorious hour of 2 am something I'm wide awake.

Let's see what's been going on...

Today, I filmed, yes I said that word filmed my interview with Sonic Youth. Well, I mean I personally didn't film it. I think to do that I would have had to clone myself etc., but...let's try this I interviewed Lee Renaldo and Steve Shelley of Sonic Youth in their studio on Murray Street. It was a filmed interview that will be aired by close to the release of the bands' newest release Sonic Nurse. Yeah, that does sound better, doesn't it.

See, insomnia screws up your linguistics and syntax. You won't see neither hide nor hair of me, you'll only hear my voice asking questions and the guys will be answering them.

I fell in love with their board. It's about the size of my bedroom and to paraphrase Thomas Dolby, "All those tubes and wires!" WOW.

Came home and the DSL was back up. Yes, I forgot to mention that my computer crashed yesterday! Yup. Got invaded by a nasty trojan (am thinking of a wee virus wearing either a helmet or a condom) screwed up my computer and then the DSL link went down. Of course it completely screwed up my work schedule for the day and I had some last minute questions I wanted to research and of course I couldn't. Got the stupid computer to work after much wrangling with it.

Screamed at the DSL people for awhile. Panicked for even longer, then suddenly remembered at nine at night that I could go online the old fashioned way via dial up.

It's so easy to get spoiled and forget the way you did things back in the stone age.

Will be interviewing an up and coming actor for a Cali based mag in early May. Issue will be out in August. His movie is coming out July 23rd. That's it for hints. Feel like being mysterioso.

The wondercat has become Kate Moss. That's what I keep telling him. I've been trying all sorts of diabetic cat food on him, he fell in love with a certain type, so I bought ten cans. May I add that ten cans of cat food is equivialent to a steak dinner for moi? Boy, does he eat well. I cough up this money and now he won't eat it.

So, I've taken to calling him Kate Moss. The vet's worried that he's going to become anorexic. Yes, cats can do that if they don't like the food. If he thinks that I'm going to buy him a boa, he's got another thing coming. After hearing him whine for hours, I broke down and gave him his old favorite and baked chicken, just to keep him quiet.

There's got to be trick somewhere out there that will make him like and eat the food that he's got to deal with, I just need to figure it out.

Ivan, Roxanne and Janis are off to Dollywood, TN and Texas. I've demanded that they send me Dollywood postcards. They're also going to check out Sun Studios in Memphis, TN. I hope they can check out Beale Street.

It times like these when I wish I still had my car. Would love to throw a suitcse in back and just roar off into the sunset for a weekend, with the car pointed in any old direction.

Bloomies is opening up in SOHO this Saturday. It's not going to be in a huge space, but Katie and I are going to check it out and see if they have any first day goodies. I keep repeating to myself, "I'm going to be good. I'm going to be good."

I have to be, I've got stuff that I haven't even worn, it's still in bags.

I should write a novel about shopaholics, no wait, it's been done.

No adventures planned for this weekend, just writing.

I will behave. I will behave. I will behave. I will behave. I will behave. I will behave. I will behave. Damn, I hope so!

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

My hair! My hair!

Am going to keep this short, in the middle of doing some research for an interview I'm doing Friday--will tell more later

Yesterday, I went with Ivan to keep him company while he got his hair cut. I'd promised him an ice cream cone AND a lollipop for afters. He's had long hair for a zillion years, and decided to cut it. But, and I repeat, but not too short.

We went to this place in SOHO, he'd heard some good things about it, sat down in the chair, talked to the stylist, showed the pic, the whole 9 yards. She said she got it--layers, kinda long, kinda short, but enough length so he could wear a pony tail if he wanted to. I sat there and watched. In the beginning all went well, She started making layers, locks of hair went flying about the place, it started to look like it was getting shaped, but long...and then, and then, and then, and then, and then---we think she went a bit nutty and PHOOM! It's short Okay, the back skims his shoulders, but the hair really isn't layered at all, and it's waaay shorter than he wanted.

I think she heard the word band, and gave him an alt.rock boy look regardless of what he said. Ivan wasn't happy.

You should have seen the two of us careening around SOHO afterwards. Every few seconds Ivan would stop ranting, raise his head to the sky and scream. Me, I'm running after him on my short legs, saying, "Dude...dude...dude...."

WHen he started in on how he wanted to punch out a wall until his hands bled, I put up my palms and said, "punch this, you're not gonna hurt yuor hands."

So, he starts laughing and I said, "Excuse me, I played ice hockey, I'm tough."

We walked/ran through SOHO back to the West Village. I promised him that there's stuff on the market that will make his hair look good. I reminded him that it will grow back, and then I bought him a beer. He does look good, but he's miserable without his locks. Roxanne, his girlfriend is also really upset.

Too bad you can't glue on the hair that falls on the floor.

Boy do I know how he feels. I've got long hair and getting your hair cut, even in NYC, is a crapshoot. I went to one place, I was supposed to get layers, I got a mullet. It was a couple of months wearing barrettes before I stopped looking like a reject from the 80's.

Why do stylists pretend they're listening to you? Why do they have their own agenda in mind and not their clients? We should get together and steal their scissors. Hide them where they can never find them.

Monday, April 19, 2004

Oh boy!

So many things, so little time. I don't even know where to start...Let's see a little after I wrote my last entry (the one about Bush) I ended up running to the Hamptons on assignment. Damn it was cold! Too cold to smoke a cigarette outside and at one point I was running on a beach. Slept in flannel pajamas (with sheep leaping about), my coat, socks, everything and was still cold. Wrote about where "young hollywood" frolics when they're out there during season.

Finished up another cosmetic review--became addicted to liquid eyeliner, lavender eyeshadow and lip gloss.

R. moved to Cali, off to write about stuff out there...

Saw Crystal Method at Webster Hall, finally! The last three times they were in NYC, I was guestlisted, but had snafus at the last moment. Great show, ended up munching on tomatoes back stage, hung out with Ivan and Roxanne at Beauty Bar, got silly and met a man who claimed he was with FUSE. This does get better, as we were chatting and I was being my "oh can you name this song/artist" snarky self, talked about auditioning for channel. Well, that could be neat, right? I mean, think of all the fun you could have catching the wave in music, doin interviews etc., and um, of course shoes...gee golly, wee and wow...never got the call. Your guess as to whether or not he was for real, am laughing as I wrote that last line.

Had a date-ate, drank champagne, laughed-done

Got called a silly name in a comment when I wrote about Bush. I love how conservatives like to use the word liberal as if it was a smear against your ancesters. To them, being liberal (which I think is open minded) is the worst possible crime against humanity. It's funny how they equate reporters/journalists/writers with being "leftish." Well, I'd rather be in full possesion of my facts than be an Ann Coulter, who makes things up and doesn't respond when questioned about it.

Watched a bit of the Bush press conference, but laughed so hard I had to turn the channel. As the magazine (Newsweek) said, this is another Viet Nam.

I'm not even going to get into political writing now, it's very late and if I start, I'll get so pissed off I'll be writing for hours and furious at the same time. Who knows how many typos I'll inflict on the planet, let alone what nightmares I may bring onto myself.

My cat Sinatra has been diagnosed with diabetes. That whole deal is frightening. I've had him since he was just six weeks old. He's lost weight and the Vet and I are trying to get him to eat. After the first time I took him to the Vet (an emergency visit) I came home and couldn't stop crying. He was a trooper throughout the entire mess. I'm now injecting him once a day with three units of insulin, but we have no idea if that's going to work, or if the doses will have to be upped or what. He's a picky eater and hated what he had to eat. The vet did say that he could have hummus twice a week and unspicy chicken--yes I have a cat who also likes tomatoes, pepperoni and anything Italian, but he's got to stick to his diet, which is food for diabetic cats (looks like bad pate) and baby food. He hates it. I'll mix in a bit of regular cat food in the mess and he picks out the reg cat food. He's worse than an anorexic model.

Have somehow become the photographer of Ivan's band The Loosies. I must bug him for the URL of the site and link it here. You know how it is when you go to see a friend's band, you're more nervous about what you'll say to him afterwards than what you're going to see. Okay, I was blown away by them and I'm a pretty jaded individual. They're a curiousm,delicious and fun mixture of power pop and punk. The lyrics seep into your brain, and you find yourself humming the song a few hours later.

Oh yeah, and I FINISHED and I do mean finished the book. All 40,000 words of it. DAMN. It's sitting on the dining room table waiting to be mailed. I'm scared to let it leave the house. What if it doesn't look both ways before it crosses the street? What if it steals other manuscripts milk money?

Since I've all ready sent an email that it's on its way, I think this means that I have no choice but to let it go off into the world by itself.

Got into an argument with someone over my height. I know I'm 5 2 1/2 and they kept inisisting that I was taller. It's just that I have a big mouth, the volume makes me seem bigger.

Keep one eye open for Wednesday's Chicago Tribune. I'm in it. Oh it was so weird being an interviewee instead of an interviewer. Not to mention a photo shoot! They shot me shopping at the MAC store in SOHO and getting a makeover. God knows what photos they're going to use. I just hope I look human.

Better go and get some rest. Errand day, I have to go to the Post Office and mail off the (gulp) book and write pitches etc.,

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

I really am alive! It's been crazy and I will post soon.
I promise!