meep.

The painting has begun. I never knew how much fun painting can be. All I did last night was glop on the background. That’s it! I plan on sketching out the entire scene tonight. I’m just really bubbly in anticipation.

My brain hurts right now. More coffee for me!!!!

I went Pearl’s on Saturday. It’s this ubercool art store on La Cienega by Beverly HIlls (there are others in other states also). I bought several canvas boards, acrylics, brushes and other stuff to start painting. I’m giddy in anticipation of going home and creating.

Also, I think I have finally mastered Chopin’s Military Polonaise. It’s really tricky since there are lots of chord progressions. Now I have to master his Ballad Op. 23 and I will be really really happy. I just wish I have a better piano to practice on. My 20-year old Yamaha upright just isn’t cutting it anymore.

I feel like I’m going out of my mind. There’s this feeling of uneasiness underlying everything right now. It’s driving be crazy right now. Ugh.

Other than that, I’ve been progressing right along in Ulysses. I’m on page 210 right now. All I can say is it’s a long read. Damn the land!

RIP Dee Dee Ramone. 2 down 2 to go. Whose next? Anyone wanna make bets?

Last night, I went to The Wherehouse to purchase tickets to tonight’s show. This is always a fun experience. First I tell her that I need to purchase tickets via Ticketmaster. She nods her head, talks to her co-worker some more about a homeless guy she met at the local park, then sashays her way over to the counter. Lovely.

Then I tell her I need “tickets to Bratmobile at the Roxy tomorrow night.” She looks at me blankly for a while in a state of total confusion. I could hear the gears in her squeak as she was trying to think whether she had heard of the band before and could utter something cool. Instead, she merely types it into the computer. She then mutters, “The Locust,” in a tone that suggests that she has heard of the band before. “Oh, they’re this great band from San Diego,” I reply to try and get her into some sort of conversation. “Imagine the greatest songs in the world condensed to 45 seconds.”

“Mmm hmm,” was the only thing she could muster. “They’re going to be there as well.”

This is exactly why I like going to shows where you just pay a cover at the door. There’s no need to go to some third party to obtain entrance rights. I don’t know. Maybe I have no patience anymore. Mmm hmm.

This little kitty needs to schlep his ass to Ticketmaster and get tix to tomorrow night’s show for Bratmobile, The Locust and Neon King Kong at the Roxy. I’m sure I’ll have fun trying to find parking on Sunset. Ugh.

After the show, I have to traverse through the traffic across town to Downtown LA for an art opening. I’ve been known to get lost through those streets, so I’m hoping that I make it there in one piece.

Days after the fact, I’m so happy to know that The Locust and Lightning Bolt are coming into town together in August. For that entire week, I’ll be bouncing up and down in anticipation. Ooooooh! AND Get Hustle is going to be here late next month. I think my head is going to explode from all of this.

Okay. Now that I got that out of my system, I should probably get some work done. Jyes.

Hump day hath arriveth. Giving in to my bout of heterosexuality, I am going to watch the Lakers pummel the Nets tonight. I’ll perhaps do some writing… I don’t know yet. Tonight sounds good to just lie around.

Of all of the shows to watch, the most inane is probably The Hamptons on ABC. Of course I watched it. The show depicts a bunch of rich white people partying at the Hamptons. It had about all of the relevance of George Washington’s testicles. I don’t know what this show accomplished. The human story? The dramas of a summer in paradise? Who really gives a flying rat’s ass about whether some dumb bitch gets her picture in Vogue or not? Ugh. I am curious as to how the show did in the ratings. I wonder whether it was a complete flop (as it should be).