Monday, December 27, 2010

Merry Christmas from the Family.

Christmas was quite this year. I guess we are finally adults. I still like the excitement of holidays, but being on tour makes it hard. Because we are fortunate I feel that it's expected for us to remember a large amount of people on the holidays. I wouldn't mind this at all if I was some Real Housewife living in a mansion spending my husband's money. I'm not. I'm here in the trenches with him. All I can do is internet shop for people. I can't have rooms full of gifts to wrap, hell I don't even have a room. I feel that people don't understand this, or that they think we're selfish, thoughtless, or cheap.

I also find X hard to shop for. We, in general don't shop. We don't really own a lot of stuff not related to clothing, beauty aids, musical instruments, and electron entertainment devices. We have normal belongings and things from our past in our condo, but with us it's pretty much, us, and Buttons...

Buttons is my husband's teddy bear. He is a small baby blue velour plush bear meant for a newborn. This is the one item that X has kept with him his entire life and even though it would probably be safer at home has gone on every tour with him. When we got married I sort of got custody of Buttons. He lives in my suitcase or carry on if we're flying.  Take a moment to let that soak in. Rock stars equal booze and excess not favorite childhood plushies. Now let this sink in, they are the same as you and I. They just have to hide it better. They have to project the image that they ( or the record label in most cases) thinks is going to sell. Maybe when they're old and on Legends they can confess that they toted around the teddy bear they had been given at birth, but no way is that going to work right here and right now.

I didn't get anything but warm wishes for Christmas. I don't think anyone knows what to buy me anymore. And I don't expect X to really get me anything, since everything I own is already due to that. I am in no way a woman who likes to shop. I like Make up and clothes as much as the next girl, but I also live out of a suitcase and feel guilty for spending on excess.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

somethings happening here...

I find it bizarre that 90% of the people who stumble on this blog do so because I named one of my post after a lyric in a recent Weezer song... I didn't realized that many people goggled that one line... crazy.

Mr.Big - Green Tinted Sixties Minds (unplugged)

This is a song from my childhood that often goes though my head lately. I don't want to die, or really need to hide, since I'm already invisible....

Monday, December 6, 2010

Smell like I sound I'm lost in a crowd.

I smell puke. I have smelt it all day. The last few days haven't been good. There has been a lot going on and a lot I don't even know if I can formulate into complete thoughts or will into proper pronouns.

X's best friend is Z and pretty much his brother from another mother. Z's dad is a Dr. I'm sure they're proud. Z and X went to school together and Z is pretty much the reason X is in the band. I think Z sees me as a losing battle. At first is wasn't supportive of our relationship and now I think he's sorta if you can't beat them join them. Anywho... I'm telling you all this because Z told me to eat a onion. He swore up and down that onions have medicinal qualities and will cure me from all the ills me. ( is it ills or something more like ales? Aliments?)  And I, being sort of a smartass say, "So can I go to In and Out and get a double double with onions?" NO he said. I need to find a raw onion and eat a whole piece (circle?) of it then drink a lot of water. Sigh... you know I've felt so cruddy and I worry about getting X sick, so I did it. I tried to eat one circle of it and I drank a whole glass of water and half a can of diet coke. It was SO gross! I later told him I did it, half expecting him to laugh and tell me it was a joke. But  he still maintained that I needed to continue it. I don't think It's gonna happen again. In fact I left the onion out in our hotel room and when we came back after dinner it smelt sorta like cat piss in there.

The puke is mine. I cough until I puke when I wake up. I don't always do it as soon as I wake up, the other day I did it in the shower which was nice. This morning I thought I was done, but ended up puking in a cup. That is how I got puke the puke on my jeans that I didn't notice till I had been around other people for half the day.
Go me!

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Talent is God given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful.
John Wooden

Saturday, November 27, 2010

I jump from chair to chair... Is anybody listening?

OK... I was taking a bath in the hotel the other day and I washed my hands. I like really scrubbed them with this anti aging moisture and beads crap I bought. And Then I did other bath type things then I washed them again. I spent most of my bath washing my hands. Later I put lotion on for way too long. I realized I really like rubbing my hands together. Like OCD joy in it. I do it when I'm bored now. But I know I'm doing it as much as I know I like it.

I don't write these things to get attention. I write them... I guess to get it out. I also want to show in an abstract way that I am real. That this is hard. That we are just people. I love my husband, he's a wonderful guy, but he's not perfect. He isn't the sly sexy guy in the videos. He is just normal. Everyone is normal. There is absolutely nobody out there who is awesome. This is why people should never meet their idols. That will just knock them down and show you that they suck as much as you do.  I remember reading a Francesca Lia Block story about two girls who meet their all time rock star god idol just to see that he was sort of a mess and not a sex god that they thought he was. I forget the details, but he was probably an insecure drug addict who had people to take care of him. Same thing happened in Diary of a teenage drama Queen.  Don't even fucking lie and say you don't watch Lilo movies too.

When I fantasize about how I should be I think that I would always do my hair and wear makeup and look perfect. I'd have awesome clothes and all the girls would want to be me. But I am alive in the here and now, and I am not wearing make up and I rarely dress up. I am not the rock goddess that I was spoon fed in the media of my youth. I am a wife and a friend. I feel like I'm not living up to my potential most of the time. I spend my life on  sea saw of knowing that I'm living the dream as well as knowing that I'm unhappy in it.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Me and Cinderella

I am sick, and on top of that the Russians have invaded the boathouse if you catch my drift... The first time that happened on this tour it was awkward. I'm the only girl. I have no privacy, not to mention I feel like crap. X and I hadn't been married that long and I wasn't sure how he'd react. Not to mention the bus bathroom... totally awkward. So all I want to do is sleep and eat and be over emotional. I feel gross and cranky and unaccomplished. I'm mean to X because I don't see how he could be attracted to me. It's retarded girl stuff I know, but we all do it. I hate this time of month and I hate being sick. I hate living in public. I hate how many public bathrooms I use. I hate how lazy the hotel maids must be. I hate that I can't curl up in a warm fuzzy bubble and be happy. I wouldn't want a bubble, scratch that. I'd want a happy medium. I'd want what everyone else wants, but I want more.... just not this.

I need to make a thanks list because I'm being a whiny bitch.
1. I am thankful my husband didn't marry me and leave me at home.
2. I am thankful that we are fortunate enough to have a bus. I know many bands who have fans and albums out and shirts at hottopic but still rock the white van and trailer.
3. I am thankful to be experiencing something that very few get to.
4. I am thankful that my husband is respectful and kind to me.
5. I am thankful that I am cared for, physically, emotionally, and economically.
6. I am thankful I am not a lactard ( lactose intolerant.)
7. I am thankful that I am only half homeless.
8. I am thankful that I do not have to sell my body or my soul.
9. I am thankful for my computer.
10. I am thankful for dove dark chocolate.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Humming and strumming all over God's world.

I do silly things sometimes. Like I somehow started reading groupie stories tonight... but didn't find any on my husband's band so I googled them... My heart was beating out of my chest and my stomach was sick with anticipation. It's like when you look at your ex's fb and you don't want him but you also don't want to see he has moved on. You know the basic why am I doing this to myself feeling.- I was pleased with what I found, which was pretty much nothing. One person called them out as liars in their interviews- duh. No hoes and blow here. And another said they could be wild but in general are sweet boys. Also very true.
I'm not sure how I feel about the sites where the groupies rate the rock stars. It leaves me irritated even though I see it as a two way street.  It's almost as if I feel that it violates them (as in the musician) and how nothing in their life is personal from what they do in bed to how big their junk is. When I worked backstage I never talked about the guest. I didn't want to be that person. I never liked people who bragged about who they know or what they'd seen. I felt privileged to be there and respected them. I know your saying that I'm not respecting it now, but you don't know me from Adam nor will you ever. And maybe more groupies should pay heed since I , though never a groupie, ended up a Mrs.

wiki on groupies - This makes it out as if I could be one, after all I do  "seeks emotional and sexual intimacy with a musician." and I do travel with them. I guess if he hadn't put a ring on it I would totally be one. Hahaha.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

When you want to fool the world, tell the truth.
Otto von Bismarck

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Waylon Jennings & Willie Nelson - Luckenbach, Texas

I've got my song and I got you with me tonight

The best thing about today was X singing this to me in our hotel room-

The only two things in life that make it worth livin'
Is guitars that tune good and firm feelin' women
I don't need my name in the marquee lights
I got my song and I got you with me tonight
Maybe it's time we got back to the basics of love

X is so silly. Shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts. tattoos covering his arms and chest, he fakes a twang and doesn't really concentrate on the chords.

And it was sweet, but also sorta ironic. Should we get out of this? Would we be fools to give this up? Sitting in that  room on our day off ,both too tired to do anything but take long baths, watch bad tv and stretch out on our king sized bed! 

I played Journey's Faithfully (They say the road ain't no place to start a family/ right down the line it's been you and me/ loving a music man ain't always what it's suppose to be...) at the venue last night. There was a piano in his dressing room. I've played since I was a little girl. I consider it my party trick backstage, but would never want to play onstage. X's band does have some ballads, but nothing to the caliber of November Rain or anything. I have crippling stage fright. I would cry if anyone made me stand up infront of a say 200 people let alone thousands.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

I think I'm gonna try this.

I am frustrated with trying to explain things here, or else I really don't like how things look on paper... I don't want to be " Fragment ideas and too many pronouns. Stop it, come on. You're not making sense now. You can't make them want you. They're all just laughing ..." So I think I might try to do some of theses... pillaged from
  1. Talk to a monkey. Explain what you’re really trying to say to a stuffed animal.
  2. Do something important that’s very easy.
  3. Try free writing.
  4. Take a shower; change clothes. Give yourself a truly clean start.
  5. Write from a persona. Lend your voice to a writing personality who isn’t you.
  6. Get away from the computer. Take pen and notebook, and go somewhere new.
  7. Quit beating yourself up. You can’t create when you feel ass-whipped.
  8. Stop visualizing catastrophes, and focus on positive outcomes.
  9. Stretch. Maybe try vacuuming your lungs.
  10. Add one ritual behavior. Get a glass of water exactly every 20 minutes. Do push-ups. Eat a Tootsie Roll every paragraph. Add physical structure.
  11. Listen to new music. Try something instrumental and rhythmic that you’ve never heard before.
  12. Write crap.
  13. Finish something.
  14. Write the middle. Stop whining over a perfect lead, and write the next part or the part after that.
  15. Do one chore. Sweep the floor or take out the recycling. Try something lightly physical to remind you that you know how to do things.
  16. Make a pointless rule. You can’t end sentences with words that begin with a vowel. Limits create focus and change your perspective.
  17. Work on the title. Quickly make up five distinctly different titles. Meditate on them. What bugs you about the one you like least?
  18. Write five words. Literally. Put five completely random words on a piece of paper. Write five more. Try a sentence. Could be about anything. A block ends when you start making words on a page.

Bullet For My Valentine - Hearts Burst Into Fire

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Bullet for My Valentine - Bittersweet Memories (HD w/ Lyrics)

Everybody says you’ve gotta know your enemies

Even if they only weigh a hundred pounds and stand five foot three
If you just smile and behave you can always get your way

 I know I'm sorta obsessive about groupies, but wouldn't you be? They're like fucking zombies popping out of nowhere to devour my brains and even if I never wear my seat belt and double tap they will still try to kill me.  I like to think of a quote I once saw/heard ( I don't remember which) from Sheryl Cooper. It was something like " when he's home he's mine when he's in public he belongs to them." I respect that for the most part. But home to us is a bunk and a hotel room. So there is a sort of blurring of lines. I guess she went thought the same thing touring with him for all those years.

Not to mention X is the nicest guy in the band. He is the one who will sign autographs and pose for pics while his bandmates leave him to go get wasted and hit on groupies. I think they sorta throw him to the wolves, but I also think his sweetness is why I love him. Sometimes I watch him hugging fans and  posing for pictures. It's sweet I'm not gonna lie, because he doesn't have to do it. There is of course security. But still the busty super skanks get away with more. One tried to french kiss him and he just looked horrified and backed away. He actually called her a crazy bitch. ( she did not jump in bed with fame...) I think for him it's hard to determine when he needs to stop being nice, but I'm proud of him when they push and he pushes back. The sad thing is I probably wouldn't of ripped her off him. I would of just stood there horrified. I'm not a crazy Faith Hill hair pulling type.

I read a quote today from a celebrity wife who's husband often tours. She said she has to keep her friends close. That people say that their husband is their best friend don't apply to her. Her best friend is her best friend. Part of me felt sad for her. My husband is my best friend. I don't think I could stand it if he wasn't. Ok, that sounds psychotic. I have a hard time explaining this... I see that clearly with this thing. I don't know how to explain the bond X and I have. More and more with this post I want to type his real name. I keep catching myself. XXXXXX. Ok I'm better.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

It's all part of my rock n roll fantasy...

 I knew that I loved my husband when I realized I was no longer in love with the man in Jewel's Foolish Games. For so long I feel in love with him every time she sang it- totally ignoring her wails that he was breaking her heart. I think if I was faced with a man who thought that philosophy was an art and who was moved by baroque and loved Mozart I wouldn't know what to say to him. I'd figit in my seat and tie my show laces in knots like a awkward teen visiting a shrink.

I like my husband's job. I like that it's art and performance and that he's loved and talented and has fans. I'm proud of him. I love that he has the balls to put himself out there like that. I love how he treats me. I love that we can make this work all while practically being Siamese twins. Before we were married and he started on this tour, well let me go back father.. After we met and he finished that tour and the time we decided this was the all encompassing love we were looking for, we had plenty of those teary I wish you were here I miss you, long distance calls that are so frustrating. And even though this is hard it isn't as hard as it would be if we were apart.

I'm starting to realize that I will never fit in in certain social circles. I feel uncomfortable in any situation that entails society or morals, or girlie girls. I'm most comfortable in all reality where I am... backstage. I worked for a venue when I met my husband... that is how I met him. I loved working backstage and being part of the show. Now I'm on tour and I have no purpose. I just sorta hang out with him. It's his job.

Dirty laundry...

"Dirty little secrets, dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
Love to cut you down to size, we love dirty laundry" 

                                   -Don Henley Dirty Laundry

Monday, November 8, 2010

They hate the truth.

This song used to be my ringtone. Never did I think it would end up applying to my life as much as it does right now. Again I have my own ideas about how this song came to be. Gerard is known for being nice and being loved by the young emo girls. But after so many warped tours anyone would go back to their bus and write this.I had a coworker who had a  13 year old who were obsessed with him! He was old enough even then to be her dad! And it is true they aren't happy till someone bleeds. Teenagers are ruthless and cyber communities make them fearless. As much as they say they love you, they're just waiting for you to bleed. Nobody is happy till you bleed! 

I know my husband ( who will now be known as X) doesn't read anything they write about him. I on the other hand get bored and Google him. I think the kids are kinda cute for the most part. My husband and I are both in our mid to late 20s and I am not fearful of the teens at all. It's the drunk, crazy, social climbing ( ?), groupie sluts that scare me. How would you feel if your husband's job was to be nice to women who go to his work and show him their tits? Girls who absolutely do not care that he is married, because they believe that he would be happier with them. Or rather they'd be happy with him. The thing is they don't know X.

X's band is modeled after the hard drinking girls and booze bands of the late 80s. All about hoes and blow. Harley's and trashing hotel rooms. They of course ( you actually probably don't know this) aren't as wild as they lead the press to believe. If they were that wild they'd probably be dead . I think of a quote from Axel Rose in Hit Parader that said,

How’s this? Fuck you… No one would print a story you’d write. You’d write that I was sober, honest and probably intelligent. They hate the truth.

Here is the truth about X: 
His father is a famous studio musician. He father could of been a rock star but choose not to. He has been married to X's mom for 30+ years. X  had a very boring average child hood considering that he grew up in LA LA land with famous rock stars. X is a classically trained musician. He sorta sees this as fun and games. He never worked for this job.( I know! Gasp he never wanted I never wanted... people are out there dying to have what we have. Where is the justice in this world!?) He is just that good that they asked him to do it. His bandmates are guys he grew up with. They are as close as brothers. His father has installed a fear of fame in him. It's sorta a rebellion I guess you could say, for him to join a band, make videos, tour, be a rock star...  Because of this X wants a normal (ish) life. He wanted to get married. He wants kids. He doesn't think that things have to get weird.Snorting blow off a hookers ass doesn't really appeal to him. But if you see him on stage, dyed, painted, and styled. You would never think any of this is true.


I got a new low...

Last night I was sitting in catering and I starting thinking about how I should start stealing forks. I was admiring this fork and mind you this is fucking craft services and this is no way a spectacular fork. It would totally be a power thing. It would be them against me and who is gonna win that? uh huh me. Then I started thinking about coming off tour with a suitcase full of forks and how bat shit crazy would I look when that happens..

Sunday, November 7, 2010

The static comes in slow.

I was walking backstage last night and venue employees were smiling at me. I wonder if they knew who I was or if they were just covering their ass encase I was someone important. I starting thinking about what I was a part of and how fleeting our art is. I'm from a theatre background and the momentum of it always bothered me. I hated that we worked so hard for something that was so fleeting. There were times when I wanted to go back to sets I loved or shows I loved and watch them again, but they were gone. Dismantled and whisked away never to be whole again. My life is still like that. It's so fleeting I've stopped caring. Though the plot is dictated by the audience for the most part and the fantastic show is one where they are really into what we are doing. In general it's the same set list, same costumes, same, same. same, yet fleeting. It's like flashing a mob of people and running away to do it to another group in another town. Yet they are begging you to stay. If we did stay they'd be like- yawn... that is so yesterday. I always thought the Toad the Wet Sprocket song Walk on the Ocean was about being on tour. Just the verse-
half and hour later we packed up our things
we said we'd send letters and all those little things
and they knew we were lying but they smiled just the same
it seemed they'd already forgotten we'd came

And that is the truth. As much as you love us we're gonna be gone tomorrow and you will go back to your home, go to work or school and live the life you had before we came. And by next week you might of even forgotten our name. 

Monday, August 30, 2010

Every camera every phone All the music that you own Won't change the fact you're all alone

I haven't really had a need to write in here recently. But lately I feel that everyone hates me. To be honest my existence it utterly lonely. I spend too much time online learning how everyone is doing. I get bored and google my husband and find things people are saying that aren't true, or enrage me because they don't know him. I'm very protective of him. I'm sure he doesn't really need this protection, but in general it's nice to have someone in your corner. As I said before I left my job for this,and even though he was already famous when we met, the future is never sure for us. Entrainment is a horrible masochistic business. Once you hit the top you start getting knocked down again. There is just so much about it I hate, and even saying that makes me a horrible person since there are thousands of people out there that want nothing more than fame... I have David Bowie's Fame in my head now. :)

wow that got really off topic to why I logged in. I logged in because I'm tired of feeling like EVERYONE hates me. I just want to cry. I feel so trapped in all of this.  My old friends I either don't trust, or think that I've changed. The fans don't know me at all. I wanted to keep our marriage on the down low. People know he's married. He wears a ring, but they don't know who I am. I did this because I, much like everyone else in the world ( mostly), don't want hate mail. I don't want myspace groups for people who hate me because of my husband.  I don't want to be judged and ripped apart, because to be honest. I didn't go chasing this. I already hate what they do to him. I would prefer the 14 year old girls who use his stage name as their last name on their profile and think that they are in love with him, to the ones who hate. I guess I have a smugness there. I like the idea that they are delusional. - again off topic. So fans- don't want him married. Band- never said it but I know they don't want me here. Friends- sorta all gone away.. Today I did log onto my social networking site to read a comment someone posted to another friend about me. Yes, in plain sight for everyone to see. It's funny when people don't have the common courtesy to have a private conversation. When myspace was popular I would rarely comment people's pages. I felt that was for people who needed to let everyone know that they talk to someone. I am fine with emails or ims. I don't need for you to read my conversation with someone. It pretty much said that I was a groupie slut. Which is funny because I'm married and have never dated a performer before... I was so mad/hurt. It really made me realize how often we think that people aren't human.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The load out

I'm so tired but I doubt I'll be able to sleep tonight. I added fish on here, because the idea of nature, even fake nature is really exciting to me right now. I never knew it was possible to move so much and not see anything.

The husband should be getting off of work soon. I'm already on the bus. I try really hard to be invisible. I know I'm not wanted here, but for some reason he got his way. My husband is the only married member of the band. I know my husband would defend me thought anything, but I spend most of my time being quite and out of the way. I actually try to make myself as small as possible. I know you might be asking how, but It's totally a mental thing.  I share a bunk with my husband. Neither of us are large people, but it's still sorta inhumane. We pretty much live in each other's pockets. Which is good and bad of course. There really isn't anywhere for me to go to or really anything for me to do.

I had a job when I met him. I gave it up for love. I know an absurd amount of music trivia and I own a digital reading device.  I take up random hobbies, but don't really stay with them. I guess when you're part of something this big it's hard for you find something that is meaningful in comparison.

Some days I don't even get dressed up. I sit on the counter of the dressing room, no make up and my hair in a rats nest and watch my husband become a persona I know you might be thinking this isn't how you keep your man, and maybe one day he'll kick me out. He might leave me at a travel center or a venue. accedently pack a groupie and leave the old lady behind. I don't really believe that. When you're famous it's very hard to believe anyone likes you for you. I know he knows I love him. I love him when he's all made up in stage makeup and expensive ratty clothes. I love him when he's snoring in my ear.  He is a good performer, but in real life he's a totally a different person than you'd expect. I love to read fan pages about him. I love to see what it is they think they know. Sometimes they get a snippet right, or a half truth they read in an interview, but those are all part of the act for the most part.

After rereading this I realize I need to come up with a code word for my husband. I can't keep typing My Husband... He is known by his stage name.... but his real name is also widely known.... hmmmm. I might have to think about this.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

We all want to be big stars, but we all have diffrent reasons for that. - Mr Jones, Counting Crows

I really don't know how to start this. I've been so secretive lately that even this anonymous blog seems too much for me.  I feel like I've joined the CIA, but really all I did was get married. I can equate this life to many things, such as joining a cult or faking one's own death. I'm making things seem really horrible, and maybe they aren't. Now I feel spoiled as well as jaded. I swear I'm my own worst enemy.

Growing up I always thought I wanted this life. I guess I over estimated myself at the time. I love my husband. He's a good man, and he really wants to be married, which I think is rare.  His father is a musician, and I think he has a very unique perspective as to what is happening to us.

I started this because I'm ungodly bored and a little lost to say the least.
I thought Rock n Roll was suppose to save?