September 2005
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September 30th, 2005.
Last night I frightened poor Raleigh with my flatulence. I shouldn’t really write about this in the Journal, as knocks off any remaining rockstar mystery, but… really, I don’t revel in that bullshit anyhow. At the moment, Heather and I are sitting in the Pheasant Creek Coffeehouse in Apex, North Carolina, listening to a guy…
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September 29th, 2005.
Feel the funk y’all. Uh. Huh. UNGH! Yeah, dancing in Nicole’s Living room, listening to Jungle Boogie. On the floor, doing my patented Jungle Rob Writhe. Ladies… swoon… SWOON I SAY! Heather teases Nicole and Lee’s cat, Raleigh. Raleigh prances in return. He looks like he’s been made out of cinnamon and dipped in powdered…
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September 26th, 2005.
The stage at Caffe Driade, behind which mysterious creatures, monsters and restless souls lurked. I’m sure of it. One of them kept tweaking my tuning pegs. The lights of Caffe Driade in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. It’s a grey day outside. There was a sligh threat of this kind of weather yesterday, but today –…
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September 25th, 2005.
The Port City Java in Wilmington, NC where we used to go every morning for smoothies and vicarious internet contact with our friends was claimed by a woman who lost control of her car, exploding a gas main. It’s completely burned out and in the slow process of being gutted and rejuvenated. A sign for…
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September 24th, 2005.
Hah. Another day, another 600 miles, or thereabouts. It’s a slow-dawning morning in Wilmington, NC, and I have no idea if I’ve slept. My cold has been waning for the past couple of days, but I’ve still got this pressure in my chest that’s made singing a little hard, and made the dry air-conditioned car…
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September 22nd, 2005.
My belly’s full and my body just doesn’t want to move. Heather really, really needs to wash her car. This poo crater looks like it may well be from a well-fed pteradactyl. At least no-one’s going to stick their finger in there and trace out “wash me”. It’s a strange day of departure. We can’t…
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September 19th, 2005.
Ugh. Well, I knew it… I can only go without sleep for so long before a cold will step in and knock me down. I have so many fluids forming up inside of me…. everybody better just take a step back and let me watch the Incredible Hulk marathon. I feel like crap. Runny, sticky…
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September 18th, 2005.
Bloody Hell, is sleep simply a thing of the past? Maybe my sleep schedule is just overly skewed, screwed and abused as my brain whirls and spits its opinions on the world and on relationships and on music and on pain. It’s been days since I’ve been able to fall asleep before dawn, and that…
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September 14th, 2005.
The Beatles, “Let It Be,” just came on the satellite radio here at Perk, the first chord timed with my first keystroke and determining the subject of this entry. Rob brings up some really cool things about music and performance that I think are forgotten sometimes when you become a professional musician, about how music affects you, speaks…
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September 13th, 2005.
There’s simply something overwhelming about good music. I’m listening to my recording of the Dave Pahanish benefit from this weekend, and I’m struck once again by how good he is. I can’t even sing along to the recording with out tearing up – not in a bad way, but like with We’re About 9, I…