|
22 june 2005
today was really hard.
this morning, i woke up with a hangover. it was a well-deserved hangover, if ever there was one: julie, rachel and i went to the spoon and clientele show last night, which was great... and afterwards, there was an afterparty. i am powerless when presented with 'the band's beer'. i don't fully understand what is so magical about those words, but there is just something about them. so, i partook. more than i should've, obviously. then there was an interview with spoon, followed by an interview with the clientele (which britt from spoon convinced me that he should do for me, and damn was it funny)... followed by hazy shots of tequila, being on the damn tour bus, and something about 'ok fine, then i'll smoke pot. what? there's no pipe around? fine. where is a soda can?' eek.
so, obviously, the day started out right, with a night like that to proceed it. it was day two at my new job (which i am coveting) and i was hungover. bad, bad, bad. and pretending i wasn't. obviously.
work went fine enough. i got dragged off to a co-worker in another side-department's bday thing this afternoon, and we were all surprised and impressed when i actually knew the bday girl (and she and i did a little yay/huggy thing) - as she's a friend of mine from the fillmore and the warfield. nice! then, it was time to go. i left, got on the bus to head home, and my phone rang. it was my friend kristie. she sounded like she had something important to say, and wouldn't tell me while i was clearly riding the bus. i was confused, she and i had just done a bunch of emailing the day before. why was she calling?
so i got home, i called her back. hey darlin, what's goin on? she tells me that one of our dear friends has committed suicide. in a very bizarre, and most unexpected mysterious way. i'm still in shock. my eyes are red from crying, and i'm sure i've been keeping my neighbors up with my wailing. i really can't believe it. i keep thinking of the million times i hung out with him and his amazing wife and we had dinner or went shopping or sat in their hottub or went to a party or whatever. how can it be? i can still see him walking in his cute little strutty way in my mind. with his cute little haircut. telling me something in his cute smiley gesturey way. how could his body have been fished out of a river this morning? that can't be right. no, no, no.
i had to go see a couple of bands and get interviews and station ids from them tonight. it was really hard to go out. i'm afraid i was that 'grey cloud' from winnie the pooh, you know, that follows you everywhere and rains just on you. the bands were great, the interviews were good, but i was still thinking about other things (steve) the entire time. fer fuck's sake. how do you stop making it suck? you don't. i remember this lesson from the past. death = all bad.
i'm mad at him. suicide is so selfish. i love his wife so much, and she's... i'm horribly, horribly worried about her. ugh. fucking hell. there are no words. what do you do?
|
