| the Journal | the Cult of Saint Cecilia

Working on a new song that hasn't quite found it's direction yet, but it hard enough that I have to keep looking at my fingers... and then have been switching back and forth between that and a bunch of covers I've been trying to learn. Poor Alfred's been subjected to fragmented versions of a bunch of different songs: "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones, "bRIDGE", by me... "Horses" by Sally Tim, "New York State of Mind", by Bill Joel, Joni Mitchell's "River", and even Rage's "Killing in the Name Of". None of the above are pretty at the moment.


Ugh, how Joni Mitchell's chords pain me.

December 23rd, 2003.
Well, it's been a rough couple of days, with not quite enough getting done, and not quite enough people being satisfied with the world, and general insanity that just wouldn't be PC to put up on one's website.

See, I DO have my boundaries!

Speaking of boundaries, the Quote Page is back up, and everyone's got to promise not to get pissy about it. I only put fun quotes up there, and yeah, some may be sacriligous, or incredibly offensive on a moral level, but none were EVER said in anger (as far as I can tell) - just trust my judgement, will you?

Anywho - if you don't know what I'm talking about, a careful search of the homepage will turn it up - (hint, try drag-high-lighting the text, you silly muffins)...

Christmas is coming, and the rob... if not actually getting fat, is definately not losing weight at the rate he was on the road. Heather's parents - well, I'm beginning to feel REALLY guilty about eating from their kindly created feasts, and... and HEATHER'S DAD'S NOT helping! He made peanut-butter cookies last night. Sigh.


The peanut butter cookies. I'd never encountered David's compulsive streak before, but every once in a while, he just sort of squats down and shits out cookies. He seems to have absolutely no control, and then he beats them flat with a fork.

What's weirder, is I've never actually witnessed this. We'll go off somewhere, and come home, and there will be these piles of peanut butter cookies just lying around.

I'm feeling guilty spending so much time with the Lloyds, and I worry that I'm ... somehow taking advantage of their hospitality, but I haven't been uninvited yet (though perhaps they're too polite to ever do this), but I somehow don't think Heather's dad would encourge my presence with the peanut butter cookie droppings if I was truly on thin ice... anywho, we'll be doing holiday stuff with MY parents soon, and spread our presence around.

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