mars volta and captain beefheart and rasputina and bitch & animal. I am a little irritated with last.fm and their apparent inability to accept the songs I can provide for them, but whatever.

speaking of songs I AM CURRENTLY IN MOURNING FOR ALL THE LOST MUSIC. I hadn't really thought about it. I'd though:

all Kevin's projects, current and those on the back burner, gone. (luckily the two he's working on the most, he has notes and things for.. mostly) but all. gone. all that writing.

all my writing! random things I'd put on the laptop. gone.
anything I'd transcribed from paper AND PROBABLY THREW THE PAPER AWAY. gone.
shit novel from last year. gone.
photos from the past year, gone.
photos and videos from Chrissy's wedding and my solo trip to Savannah? GONE.
probably the photos from my most recent trip to Florida. photos photos and videos. GONE.

ALL THAT FUCKING MUSIC. GONE.
all the music I'd gotten from John (which I can obviously get again). ALL THAT MUSIC FROM JOE. Such good music.

Luckily I have figured out where my iPod is, and thank everyone it was upstairs so those filthy fucking cockgobbling uncouth savages didn't take it. I am still so mad. I still want to slit their fucking throats and drink down most of their blood and spit the rest into the faces of their mothers and close friends. Goddamn assholes.

(EDIT: Also, they didn't touch my guitars. Had they, that would be two sparkley guitars stolen in my life and I'd probably never buy another guitar ever again.)

Ugh. Letting it go letting it go let it go.

AS FOR TODAY, THIS LOVELY HAPPY SATURDAY:
I expect to be spending most of it in front of the computer. Decisions.

I am partway through my (first) pot of coffee. I have three Spirits, a box of asian veggie patties (deeeelicious) and some romaine lettuce. Made more croutons last night. Sooo. If I want other foods or beverages, I need to walk to the store now. If I'm going to clean before I get to the writing, I need to do that now.

I don't particularly want to put clothes on today. I am comfortable in my shorts (as long as we have no more visitors who have the potential to see my ass hanging out) and tank top shirt thing.

Captain Beefhart might be making my brain a little crazy. It already was that way to begin with. HA

I would like to purchase some incense, for I have none, only sage. I could get it at the little store on the corner, but they only have that one kind and though it is blessed with the strange and beautiful name of my favorite god, the quality kind of sucks. I bet Lunds has some. Or if Katie is about, perhaps we can go to that Saracura store, not a far trip, but probably too distracting for my brain today.

Speaking of Hindus, have I mentioned this? I don't think so.
If you know me for sure, you may know that my monthly womanly time is usually quite the deathfest. No joke. I get sick, really sick, I sometimes think I'm dying, it's really pretty awful.

For Ganesh Chathurthi, I built my little statue, I did my offerings and I did my thoughts and the only thing I directly asked for was the ceasing of this horrible pain, the lightening and softening of each month.

And I got it. Three cycles have passed since I dropped him in the Mississippi River and each time there has been dull pain under the belly and I've been caught in the bathtub. But I have not died, the pain has not transferred into physical illness in other parts of my body.. and they've been shorter too. Which is slightly odd. So many obstacles placed and removed, I should get it all checked out just in case, but in the meantime I am so full of gratitude.

NOW TIME TO GET TO IT. Des photographs Amanda Fn Palmer today and I will write this book today.

I only have 4000 words. I should have around 20k. I am waaaaay short, goddamn.

So I will listen to the musics, drink the coffee, bug people on instant messengers and write the words, write the words, write so many more words...

and in between I will try to figure out when the fuck I made a tumblr with my name on it, and why the fuck I can't figure out how to get back into it. Assholes. Savages.