New post in a long time...

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Today was really awful.

I got out of bed really late because my alarm clock has broken and I cannot afford a new one at the moment.

I feel unusual because my antidepressants are making me hairy.

I'm so stoned.

Last night I had to go and pay Joshua's bail. He's such a jerk. He got arrested for punching the Walmart clerk in the face for refusing to sell him beer. He's only 16!

I want to tell the world to get fucked.

I am making this journal friends only because I don't want the world to read what I'm writing, even though I'm posting it on the internet.

Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! I'm so ugly. Don't look at my photos pleeeeeze.

I want to say thanks to the world for absolutely fucking nothing! You all suck. I feel so alone, no one ever reads this journal, or even comments to let me know that I'm not suffering alone. It's cold here, and I want to die, but I cannot figure out how many of you to take with me when I go.

I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, which makes me different enough to be interesting, but the same as all the other cool people with bipolar disorder.

That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this thought - sharing your life with strangers on the internet is the cheapest form of therapy available. Leave a comment and tell me I'm beautiful.

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Concerts, concerts and more concerts!

Well, just got back from a weekend of concerts, and it was a goddamned blast!

We stayed in a 3.5 star hotel in Kansas City (Marriott on the Plaza), where my blue/purple hair and Chambers' Mars Volta 'fro seemed to fit in so well. We took a cab to the El Torreon (first time ever in a cab, and let me tell you it was fucking interesting!) for the Rise Against show. Anarchy abounded, both real and consumer-driven, and Rise Against was the only band I enjoyed (which was fortunate, since I came to see them). Unfortunately, Kansas City is unlike New York, in that the cabs don't just wait around every fucking corner so you can hail one. Soooo, after calling a cab for 11:45p, we finally left El Torreon at 12:38a. Fucking great, but we made it out in one piece.

Our hotel had both down comforters and pillows. Fucking down. Jesus fucking Christ. I can't believe that people only know hotels like that. My mom was too good to stay at the Motel 8, that's why we stayed at Best Westerns during my childhood. That's my idea of a hotel - ice machine, shower, bed, and HBO.

So the next night, we went to see Sage Francis in Lawrence, Kansas. (I know that staying in a 3.5 star hotel might conflict with the messages in Sage's songs, but...I think he would still approve. Maybe. At least I can recognize the conflict.) If you have not yet heard Sage Francis, I highly recommend him. If you are just getting into him, try his Epitaph recordings (Personal Journals and A Healthy Distrust) and then a few of his older independent releases (Still Sick...Urine Trouble and Dead Poet Live). Part beat poet, part rapper, part big brother (the family member, not the Bush administration), he never fails to disappoint me.

Well, I would give you all the gory details of both the concert and the wild nights in the hotel room, but if I gave away all the details in the first post, what would keep you coming back for more?