The Ring

March 30, 2006 10:20PM So a little earlier tonight my phone rang 3 times. An old lover who I'd given up keeping in touch with...the phone was in his pocket and I could hear him talking to someone - a woman. I yelled into the phone, saying "Hello, hello! ___, ___...Hello?" etc. His phone called me. I hung up. His phone called me again and then again on the other line. What the hell is it supposed to mean? Something? Anything? Nothing? I guess he still has my number in there. He lives in New York now.

It rattled me when I saw his name on the display. It's probably better that he didn't answer.

It's evening now and I'm feeling a little low. A little locked-up, sad and afraid. Guess my tide is out to sea...

Anyway...

We went to Trader Joe's to pick up some snaxx/brewskis for Erik's party, which is back on for tomorrow. On the way to the sto', I saw a guy on a skateboard gingerly holding an umbrella with both hands. It's been non-stop drizzle/rain since I arrived in this town. Not good for frizzy hair. It's like I'm back in Texas.

I was just handed a very funny document. It's a copy of The Portland Mercury from December 2005 and it's got some funny content regarding Courtney Taylor-Taylor of the Dandy Warhols. It's very mocking, as he occasionally writes in and squabbles with their music editor. Anyway, I know just the fan to hand this off to...

So a producer I had considered working with on my non-live solo album is disappointing me lately. He's been such an asshole. But he knows my style and I know he's capable of great things. I don't want to rule out working with him, but I don't want it to turn out like a Klaus Kinski/Werner Herzog situation. Damned (and beloved) Libras!