Singing the blues and crying

I played a horrible show yesterday. Just me. Shyesha was great, charming and engaging. Even the audience was good. They seemed to have found a way to enjoy it inspite of my playing. We got compliments from people who didn't have to say anything.

So it was just me. And I feel horrible about it. There just weren't any melodies in my head. It was like I wasn't even there. No, it was like I was there. Often when I play I kind of go off to some other place. And that's a good thing. I don't get in my way. Occasionally, I'll look down at my hands on the keyboard and think, Well, look at that; that looks like fun, where did I come up with that? But it has nothing to do with me. It's coming from somewhere else. Yesterday, it didn't. It didn't come at all. I was just playing chords and they meant nothing to me.

I could blame it on the odd setup. They knew we wanted to use the piano, yet there it sat, so not on the stage. We ended up rolling the piano next to the stage with Shyesha sitting on the edge of the stage to my left. In a way it might have been an intimate setting but the harsh light and stark straight rows of chairs facing us detracted from that. I didn't feel the casualness I'd hoped for.

And it was an ambience-free afternoon show.

And the piano was very non-responsive. It was like playing an electric Casio.

But I won't blame any of that. It's my job to be ready for anything.

The worse part is how it sticks with me. It put me in an off mood for the rest of the day. And even today, parts of solos that I attempted have popped into my head and made fun of me: Dude, you remember when you played that? Yeah, that sucked.

I feel like I wasted my time and everyone else's. I need another show soon to get this taste out of my mouth.

I'm moving to Australia

I'm having a very bad day.

So far it has lasted about 52 hours.

I know this is where I should go into the particulars of this bad day, but it's just this clusterfuck of a million little annoyances and a couple really big problems. Maybe once the scotch and oxycodone kick in I'll go into it. For now how about some visual oxycodone.

Exhausted

One transgression I just can't wrap my brain around is littering. It's not like I'm asking you to recycle grey water or something. Just don't throw stuff on the ground. It's simple. In fact, I bet you're doing it right now. See how at this moment you're not carelessly tossing something to the ground? Keep doing that.

I was waiting at a light when I saw the driver in front of me throw a cigarette butt out the window. It's a small thing, I know, but it's the thing I understand least why you'd throw it out the window. I know your car has an ashtray. What, do you just not like the smell of smoke? Then stop fucking smoking, you ass!

Then the part that gets me: through the back window I see a tiny hand reach up above the back seat. I'm thinking, You have a child in the car with you?! Great. So not only do you not give a damn about our environment, you apparently don't even give a damn about your toddler's lungs. Jackass.