At a resort in Welches, Oregon. They don't have a bathtub, but everything else is good. Got my drank on last night with E.F. We got loaded and then I drove us to a real bar after the hotel bar closed. Had another drink with the locals, and then as we were leaving, this random chick who worked at the hotel invited E.F. and me to [redacted] with her in her car. We did. I pretty much controlled myself. Minimal guilt this morning.
Gotta show tonight. Other band's called No Gentlemen. Why is that so familiar?
January 14, 2015
January 10, 2015
Gem to concerned interloper at B-Side patio last night, after I smashed a bar glass on the table: "I thought I saw a *fly* on it."
Texts from J.N.S. to me after she left my house in a huff at three a.m.:
"I hate Daniel"
[various similar stuff]
"I accidentally sent [redacted] the message about my purse and then I thought I was talking to him"
Ha ha! Guess I shouldn't work so hard to alienate people.
Also, so hungover. I be at Biddy's right now. Got a Birds In Basket in front of me. It comes with sausage, and the call the sausage a "pub banger". Makes me think of a "club banger" like "Turn Down for What", but they're obvioudky very different animals.
January 5, 2015
Woke up yesterday with a terrible headache: extreme self-hatred, bad headache, the whole thing. It lingered all day and into the night. Nevertheless, I:
- Breakfasted at Tabor Tavern with Katie and Jeff. He's not such a bad guy. There have been a few red flags, but maybe I'm being overprotective of the kid. I had the breakfast sandwich with a salad. Bellisimo!
- Practiced with Pat and Jonanthan. We sounded pretty good. I wasn't feeling very steady on my feet (due to the hangover), but Jonathan brought some pizza and it had a restorative effect on my system. It took several tries for me to get all the way through "Bad Teacher" for some reason.
- Went to Uzbekistan Grill (on 184th and Burnside) with Dan and Christy. I got the Uzbek Plov and a glass of Russian Kvas. If anyone ever asks you, Plov is good, Kvas is okay, and people are crazy. Good time and conversation with the dynamic—and adulterous—duo.
- Put myself to bed at eight or nine. I started watching the second season of Small Wonder on my phone while nursing the headache and laying under my blanket with the dog. Jonathan texted a few times to invite me to Pizza's party, but I couldn't bear the thought of more booze.
- Took a Klonopin at ten-thirty and was out like a light by eleven. I woke up this morning at seven-something and hit the snooze two times. Blessed sleep! Nepenthe!
January 3, 2015
Drank a bottle of wine at rehearsal last night. Fucked A.T. in the dressing room of her store this morning. Drove home, accidentally broke the Proteus. Now laying in bed with the dog. Karaoke later tonight, I guess.
Utter, endless tedium.
Utter, endless tedium.
January 1, 2015
9:45. Lucky House
Everyone here is ugly and dimwitted. Karaoke's going on in the background; dumbasses be hollering.
How did it come to this? How did I screw everything up so bad that I arrived at this point?
If I had been even slightly pleasant to A.B. I at least wouldn't be alone right now. I could've learned to stand her. And then I'd be the one with a child on the way, not sitting at a barstool among these idiots.
One of them. I'm one of these idiots. It finally happened.
I'm torn between texting J.N.S., but she's doubtless at some party. Or with *someone*. Surely her loneliness *act* isn't as profoundly isolated as my loneliness *reality*. It couldn't be: there's nothing WRONG with her.
A.T. invited me to Eugene for the night's festivities. [She's got cocaine. I shoulda gone.] I think she has a little crush on me. Not understandable, given that we've had sex; surely I turned her off me after *that*.
11:00. Lucky House
Shovel (from the neighborhood) just invited me to a party at her place tonight. I might go.
'Bout to head over to Biddy's to meet Jonathan.
Midnight. Biddy McGraw's
Hanging with Jonathan. More wine. Wanna check out this neighborhood thing. Maybe there are repulsive women of nominal—or nonexistent!—virtue.
I can't believe it's come to this. What have I done?
NEW YEAR'S DAY. The next morning. New Deal Cafe.
Slight headache. Sitting in this bloody cafe waiting for some eggs. At least they're open. Drinking coffee.
Here's how the rest of the night went down(hill):
- Jonathan and I did the midnight thing at Biddy's. Then he drove me to my crib. We planned to attend the neighborhood party. I grabbed a bottle of wine.
- I drove to J.N.S.'s place and picked her up. (She had been arguing back and forth about not wanting to go, so I just ignored everything after "okay" and went over there.) Kissed her a bit in her apartment, then we got in the car.
- We got as far as my place before J.N.S. wanted a ride home. I said "no prob" and turned around. Then Jonathan wanted out, so I dropped him off in front of the house. Drove to J.N.S.'s place while arguing and dropped her off.
So I missed the party and didn't get to hang with anybody. Party's a bigger deal than one might think; I was kinda looking forward to becoming a proper neighborhood person. I sure hope another invitation is forthcoming. I guess we'll do this New Year's thing again twelve months from now.
So J.N.S.: She's weird. She's anxious. I'm tolerant of both. Indulgent, even. Why is that?
Why do I fetishize people's idiosyncrasies? I seem to see them as proof of an artistic temperament, or even a replacement for actual artistic achievement.