The Embarrassing Music Continues

or I Am Such A Girl

Yesterday was not a good day in Tony Land. It occcurred to me that I need to clean house. Metaphorically, y'all. I'm best at being an introvert, and when I have too many social attachments, all hell is bound to break loose. Nothing has broken yet, but I can hear some creaking.

And it occurs to me yesterday that I may not be able to afford to go to New York next month, especially if I also plan on attending AWP. This also bummed me out.

And I feel I should revise my life but I'm running out of meds, and hopelessness is a word that keeps floating around the room.

And no, I'm not writing poems. I'm thinking about poems. I'm reading Clark Coolidge and Ezra Pound because they're in my bathroom, but I'm not writing any poems.

And yesterday the main weather was slush. It was not a good day to have a hole in your shoe. I had two holes. One in each shoe.

And so I, weepy, returned home and listened to the song "Bethlehem" by Paula Cole. Yes, I know what you're thinking. She's that awful hairy-armpitted Lilith Fair chick who sings that cowboy song. Well, true. BUT before that period of her career, she released a beautiful record called Harbinger. I discovered Paula Cole on the same day I learned that John Cale had a solo career. It was in the dusty San Joaquin Valley (read: desert), one August afternoon. I was probably drinking beer, and my roommate Kurt was probably smoking shake in the bathroom. But whatever the circumstance, I sorta fell in love with both artists instantly. I later fell out of love with Paula, but I still like the song "Bethlehem" which is about a teenage girl growing up in an shitty town. And I can RELATE. Except that I was a teenage boy who grew up in a shitty town. But it feels real to me.

Everyone's talking about Becky's bust
The boys on the basketball team just fuck
The same ten girls who don't know who they are