only sleeping

I haven't been doing so well with the "getting back online" business. I think I'm starting to feel better, though, so hopefully that situation will take care of itself in the next day or so.

I don't really know what to say about the war. I'm one of those people who think that Hussein should have been taken out 12 years ago, but now? Like I said, I don't know. I was really hoping that we could avoid a confrontation, but now that it's started, I'll gladly support the troops 110%. The people that I *don't* support? Bush, Rumsfeld, Ashcroft, Cheney, Powell, etc. I love my country, but I do *not* love the people who are currently at the helm. Nor do I think we should all be blindly patriotic, flag waving fools, simply because this is "a time of conflict".

I'm sick of everyone bashing everyone else. I'm on the verge of telling the whole goddamn world to shut the fuck up, and to please retire to their respective rooms until further notice. Really, it's gotten insane lately. Americans bashing the French, the Canadians, and other Americans who have the audacity to say "hey, the president is an idiot, and this isn't what I want." Canadians bashing Americans right back. British, French, and every other nationality getting into the act. You know, I'm just tired of it- and if I could, I would send everyone to their rooms until they learned how to speak civily to each other, and get along again.

I figure, I can keep my views to myself until the election rolls around next November. Then, I will gladly voice my displeasure with this administration by voting for *anyone* who appears to have the knowledge of how to use two braincells, at the same time.

So. Yeah.

Tonight, I'm heading to bed...even though the temptation to stay up watching CNN all night is strong. I've got A Clash of Kings waiting for me, and A Storm of Swords on standby. I honestly forgot how much I love these books.

Posted by at 2:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Dream, the third of The Endless, you are in charge
of the Dreaming, all imagination and
creativity, everyone knows your beautiful
realm, but none truly understand it. You are
dark and brooding, creative, and spend a lot of
time by yourself, just thinking. You are almost
as serious as Destiny, but not quite. Everyone
is enchanted by you, but you keep them all at a
distance, even when you shouldn't.

Which Endless are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

No, I'm not dead. With any luck, I'll be back and in touch with my friends tomorrow.

PS- The Ring. One word: Eek! Very creepy movie. The *first* movie that has actually scared me witless since The Exorcist. And don't even ask me *why* it scared me, because I didn't find anything particularly scary *about* the movie. I think the freak out part came after, listening to other people talk about it, and tell me what *they* were suddenly afraid of. You know, that whole power of suggestion thing.

And of course, it didn't help that my phone rang after I watched it, and there was no one there. ;-)

So, it's back to bed for me. And no, my television is not covered by a sheet. Although, that's a very tempting thought...

Posted by at 3:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

*gets out the holy water*

I think my journal needs an exorcism...

Posted by at 1:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

First of all, Mishaela- I think I need to mail you so we can do the LA Guns nostalgia thing, properly. My blog is doing wonky, possessed things- and I didn't even realized you had commented. I know the band recorded an album called Man in the Moon, and a new one last year, called Waking the Dead- which I just cracked, and had to have. Unfortunately, Kelly Nickels isn't with the band any more- he hooked up with another band, called Sweet Pain.

Waking the Dead is good, although I still like the old stuff the best. (nostalgia value, ya know.) And they were *supposed* to go out on the road with Alice Cooper, but there's been a snag. Seems Tracii is all into a new project with Nikki Sixx called "Brides of Destruction", and he won't tour with the Guns to support Waking the Dead, and Phil's been in a bit of a tizzy over Tracii's "self sabatoging" behavior.

I love these guys, seriously- I do. It has been *so* much fun, finding out what the hell they've been up to, lately. I've gone for god knows how many years, not having the first clue, and all of a sudden- I'm plugged right back in. And it looks like there's gonna be a bit of a fit thrown, over the ditching of the Cooper tour.

Oh, and for the record? I'll take the Guns over Brides of Destruction, *any* day. The BoD stuff *sucks*, in my not so humble opinion. I mean, seriously- I would *not* pay to listen to that crap. And Nikki is a fucking walking ego. So, yeah. Not interested, and siding with Phil on this one. ;-)

Anyone out there remember Bang Tango? More Anne Rice fans, folks. I'm sensing a pattern, in all of the bands that I used to like...but anyway, this does have a point. Kyle Kyle went on to form the Newlydeads, with Taime Downe (of Faster Pussycat infamy), and Joe LeSte is heading up Beautiful Creatures. Now, I was never all that fond of Joe's voice, in Bang Tango...but I recommend giving the Beautiful Creatures stuff a listen. And god knows, I'm the biggest Newlydeads fan on the planet, just because...it's Kyle Kyle and Taime, gone all goth/industrial. Heh. I never, ever thought Taime would dump glam/sleeze, in favor of industrial. The novelty of this fact alone is enough to keep me content.

The nostalgia kick is never going to end...

Right now, I'm in the process of rediscovering Jetboy. Anyone remember them? Glam/punk? Mickey fucking Finn? Best. Mohawk. Ever. Damned Nation took up residence in my crappy stereo back then, and didn't leave for *ever*. And just like LA Guns (and the songs Some Lie 4 Love, and Here it Comes) are tied into the best week of my life, Jetboy is tied in to the best week *end* of my life.

I am reminded of a certain weekend in Vegas. Certain people, who shall remain nameless, convinced me (while they were sloshed beyond all recognition) that they could breathe through their eyelids. And I, while also sloshed beyond all recognition, believed them. It was a weekend of no drugs, which was rare for me...and two days of revlations that I was sure I would never share with anyone.

It's amazing, the things that you can share with another person, when the truth is scrawled in the dirt, and left up to that other person to decipher. See, I've never been good at talking. But let me write down what I need to say, and we're in business.

I need to sleep. ;-)

Posted by at 3:26 AM | Permalink

Blogamp is being evil. And I'm almost too tired to care.

Posted by at 7:58 PM | Permalink

From velvet night came forth,
Our torch burns eternal,
For Time is but a dream,
and our mischief be infernal.

Hark the electric thunder,
drawn like moths to a Flame,
to a place of Wicked Wonder
. . . And Hollywood be they name.

I was all of 14 years old at the time, and I was suitably obsessed with LA Guns. I mean, c'mon people- they were *the* Hollywood Vampires! They were fans of Anne Rice- even presented her with their gold records *for* Hollywood Vampires, if I'm remembering correctly. Where do you think I first *heard* of Anne Rice, anyway?

And little 13 year old Chris Rice even got autographs from the band.

Yeah, I'm still stuck in nostalgia mode. No, I'm not coming out again, any time soon.

They were sleezy, glam, and they *owned* all of us little vampire-obsessed children in Hollyweird for a brief period in time. And if you looked past the badass attitudes, they were really nice guys, too.

I have been trying to explain to people how much living in Hollywood was like like living on another planet. You were surrounded by people who fell into three catagories: 1- people who were famous, 2- people who wanted to be famous, and 3- people who already *thought* they were famous. Normal people just didn't exist. If you were a part of the bar/club scene, you simply could not go out without running in to someone who was enjoying their fleeting moment of fame...and it was NOT a big deal. How *could* it be a big deal, when even the nobodies had legions of squealing fangirls following them from club to club?

Yes, even a guy who worked at Jack In The Box during the day, could be a rockstar by night, complete with groupies from hell. Only in Hollywood. It is the greatest circus sideshow on earth.

At 15, I got to go to Daytona Beach, and see the guys play during spring break. It's just one of those things that will always stick out in my head, because the weather was horrible...it was pouring down rain, and we were all soaked to the skin in a matter of minutes. But did we complain? Fuck no. And one of the songs that I remember from the set, was "Some Lie 4 Love". Why do I remember it? Because of Tracii splasing in the puddles, Kelly being afraid he was going to get electrocuted, and the way Phil took such great pleasure in belting out those lyrics.

Somewhere south of the border
Headin' for a doll serenade
Taking more than we aughta'
Shakin' off the masquerade

Some lie for love
Some lie for gain
But I lie for you
In the pouring rain

Ya know, we were simple. "But I lie for you, baby- in the pouring rain." And it was really *raining*. Sheesh. By the time the set was over and we went back to the hotel, we looked like little baby mud monsters. But that still remains one of the greatest weeks of my entire life. I was not supposed to be there. I was not supposed to be allowed to go. But thanks to some creative storytelling on the part of my best friend's older brother, we went...we drank more than 15 year old's should *ever* be able to drink, and we created one of the best times I have ever had.

The second best time I ever had? Well, that would revolve around a certain weekend in Las Vegas...and I think I'll save that story for another time.

Posted by at 2:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Took a break from writing today, after the emotional rollercoaster that was last night. Spent the entire day downloading, downloading, downloading. I can honestly say, I love KaZaa Lite. At this moment in time, my mind is entirely blank when I try to think of what I'm going to download next, so I do believe that means it's time to quit for the night.

American Made Music To Strip By is mine, at last. cheers, goes crosseyed, falls over

Tomorrow, it will be back to writing- but today was good. Not one panic attack to speak of, and I actually had a pretty enjoyable day. I honestly didn't know how it was going to turn out, after last night. Basically, yesterday was one LONG panic attack after another, and even popping 3 xanax (seperately, not together) was not enough to shut them off. But dayum, I slept like a corpse when I finally went to bed. And if I had any dreams, I certainly don't remember them.

I know what I'm working towards now, as I write. I know what I'm building towards, and lemme tell ya- it feels kind of weird to calmly be going over this stuff, in my head. It was the weirdest, most traumatic, and most fucked up part of my life (and that's saying a hell of a lot, believe me), but after all was said and done, it was also bloody fantastic. Go figure. That's why it's so hard to just sit down, and toss all of this stuff onto paper. I have to trudge through all of the hideousness, to get to the good parts. And right now, I am about eyeball deep in nightmare territory.

But I can also say, it's making me feel better, in a strange way. I feel like I'm in the eye of a hurricane, every night. Just me, good old Wordpad, my music, and my memories. What started out as scary, is turning out to be very comforting.

And no matter how fucked up my life has been? I would not change a thing. There have been so many amazing people that I've met along the way, and if even one little part of my life had been different, I might not have met them. And to me, that is unacceptable.

So, yeah. Don't *I* rock.

Bruce, wherever the hell you are right now...I just want you to know that I remember *everything*, and I never did get the chance to thank you. And, ummm...I miss you.

Night, all.

Posted by at 3:40 AM | Permalink

Kiss away the pain and leave me lonely
I'll never know if love's a lie
Ooh - being crazy in paradise is easy
Can you see the prisoners in my eyes
Where is the love to shelter me
Give me love, love set me free
Where is the love, to shelter me
Only love, love set me free
Set me free

Listening to The Crimson Idol managed to rip my heart out, quite neatly, tonight. I haven't heard these songs in years, and listening to them now...while I'm writing what I am...fuck.

Music. That's what takes me to "that place" in my mind. The one where I can see everything with perfect clarity. And what's more, I can feel it all...every last twisted up emotion. As if the emotions weren't twisted up enough already, you know? Some of the remembering feels good, and some of it...

Well, there are some things that are better off left forgotten. Not that I could ever get that lucky. It's all a part of me, the good *and* the bad. And I'll get through this, one way or another.

Hold on to my heart, to my heart, to me
Hold on to my heart, to my heart, to me
And oh no, don't let me go cause all I am
You hold in your hands, and hold me
And I'll make it through the night
And I'll be alright, hold on, hold on to my heart

Posted by at 3:54 AM | Permalink