Tag Archives: musician

Adult Friendships and Other Unrealistic Goals

The concert came and went but Ave the guitarist continued to feel as lonesome and restless as ever.

Their performance had been subspectacular. It was about a hair below mediocre. But most importantly, it was done.

She hadn’t given up, not even when she had to write the letters next to the notes on the sheet music to keep up with the other musicians. Not even when her custom ordered guitar hadn’t come. She marched up on that stage, trudged right along through every measure, well, maybe not every measure.

Ok so she skipped a few measures here and there. But she stuck it out and took a bow with the rest of them.

I’m not sure why i was writing about myself in third person but i’m going to stop that now.

This was a difficult project i undertook. The women i met were very supportive and wonderful. Everyone was. I wish it wasn’t so time consuming. I wish i was rich and could devote myself to all of my art projects without neglecting any.

I had planned on finishing my novel this year. But if i stay in chamber music, i won’t have time for that or to do the illustrations on a book my dad’s self-publishing.

If i let a lot of time go by between drawing or photo projects, i start to feel like i’m losing myself. The same thing happens when i go a couple weeks without giving any Bible classes.

But like i said, the ladies i played guitar with were so supportive and it’s hard to find people like that.

I recently texted an old friend. She wanted to hang out and said she’d check her calendar and get back to me. It’s been a week and a half. I think it’s safe to assume she can’t find her calendar.

Something similar happened with a childhood friend of mine who texted me in January to hang out in February. She never texted me when the time came, so i texted her a few weeks later and she never replied. I’m pretty sure she was drunk the first time she texted me back in January.

It’s hard for me to put myself out there and get met with rejection. I work in Sales so i’m rather used to it, but it’s not the same. I always try to act like it’s ok and it doesn’t matter. I just go on living my life as normal. Sometimes i hear the women in my congregation got together to do this or that and i feel bad because i get left out.

I get that no one really gets my sense of humor. Those who do get it already have their own tight circle; they don’t need new close friends. I’m somehow outside their comfort zone.

At least i have my husband, but he’s always asleep or on his phone or at the gym or at his parents’.

I guess i’m just not that fun to be around. Like on a fun scale i’d probably be just the scale, not even a number.

Tonight i called my mom to invite her to come conduct a Bible study with me. But she’s too busy. The other day she came to a nearby city to a baby shower. I was sort of jealous.

I can’t even remember the last time i was invited to a baby shower. The clothes are so cute, and the little shoes make me teary-eyed. I think i was eight.

I really don’t get it. I even texted this guy i’ve been trying to be friends with for like a year now, because we have a lot in common. The one i said was my soulmate. But that’s pretty much unilateral, as so many of my relationships are. As was the conversation.

He didn’t reply. I deleted his number. It hurts too much to reach out in the dark for someone and be ignored. Anyway, I was just trying to be nice. At least that’s what i thought i was doing.

But let’s revisit my childhood traumas for just a second. Our home was so very small and i was always in everybody’s way. I wanted to disappear. I started overdosing on over the counter painkillers.

That was fun.

When we lived in Mexico, the consensus in the congregation was that i was somehow holding my husband back. So i mixed the painkillers with cleaning liquids and eventually alcohol.

That wasn’t so fun.

The last time i did that, i was 32. My husband had stormed out of the house, angry about something. I was taking my heartrate as i downed the bottle. It was somewhere in the 30s.

Someone called me from a different congregation. She said i sounded weird. I told her i was alright. After hanging up, i put away the bottle.

My dad used to work as a cab driver and that lady was always calling me to ask if he could take her to the doctor’s. It was irritating and i ended up blocking her. But i think God used her that one time.

I never liked it that my dad worked as a cab driver and spent all that time alone with women passengers. It must have bothered me every night for about 23 years.

I don’t know how my mom could handle that. Perhaps i’m far too insecure.

The point is i was suicidal then, but i’m not now. And maybe most people around me never even notice i’m there, so it’s hard for me to part ways with my guitarristas, because they gave me the impression that they cared.

I guess i can always conjure up my imaginary ex-boyfriend. I wonder what he’s up to these days.

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My Unborn Child Was a Stomach Bug

I am definitely not cut out to be a guitarist. I have not enjoyed the last few days or the idea of having to do this concert.

Now the day has finally arrived and i wish i could stay in bed all day.

What is the point of performing chamber music in a theater setting? That’s not what it was composed for. It was composed for chamber settings. Small intimate rooms. It’s in the name.

I try not to think about my lost guitar in Mexico or the asshole who never delivered it. I can’t expend energy on being upset.

There will be time for that tomorrow.

Our sextet ensemble kinda sucks and that’s a little depressing. I know the music well but when i’m in public, i blank at random intervals. At this point, i’ve played every piece hundreds of times, but i still blank.

I wasn’t blanking before last week so it is either because i switched to a different sized guitar or because of performance anxiety.

My dad used to say that what you were trying to do doesn’t matter. The only thing that’s important is the end result. My brother and i never agreed with him.

I specifically asked my parents not to come to the concert.

He once advised me not to eat sugar before a show to help with my anxiety. So i stopped drinking chocolate and Coke a week ago and i’ve been in a pretty bad mood.

It’s just not worth it.

And the thing is, i never felt this much dislike of performing when i was just singing. But i do wonder if it’s this bad just because it’s a new experience to me, and it could improve over time?

Or is my bitterness from not receiving my guitar oozing into other aspects of my musical life?

To be honest, lately i don’t enjoy anything, other than food and television. (I was a tv addict as a child until my parents canceled cable).

I feel very inept as a human. I think i would be a very good cat or koala. Anything that’s supposed to sleep for most of the day. I could get Panda of the Year, i bet.

I thought i was pregnant for a few days and that was exciting. But that turned out to be a stomach bug. My breasts were itchy but that was because my washer didn’t rinse out my bras well enough. My back was hurting but that was probably because the guitar i switched to is heavier than my other one. I gained a little weight but that’s just what i tend to do.

Then i read online that if you’re very thirsty or have fever, it’s just a stomach flu, not pregnancy. And i have been very thirsty and a little feverish.

But yesterday i had a nice surprise. When i got home there was a pot of flowers on the table with a card. My husband said he didn’t know who had brought them for me.

I opened the card and it turned out they were for my mother in law who lives next door.

My in-laws are the only people i invited to the concert, other than my husband, but they won’t be able to go.

Maybe i can enjoy the concert more if i think of it as a team-failing exercise. I always fail alone, but this time i get to fail as a team.

I probably shouldn’t tell them that.

My Life As A Tumblr Cone Avatar

I’ve been reduced to a Cone avatar on Tumblr. But i’ll be ok. It’s for the best. I spent way too much time writing depressing bits of my day, exploring imaginary platonic relationships.

I only had like three followers. The rest were porn spambots.

How do porn spambots flourish on a site that blurs a picture of a cat dressed as Captain America?

I had trouble logging into this WordPress account because i thought i had used a fake email. Turns out it was my real email all along.

On the bright side, now i get to delight you, WordPress Reader, with the best depressing bits of my day. And all the juicy details of my “love life” which has built up so much potential over the years.

I am now an aspiring amateur musician. I was already an amateur musician before, but now that i’ve realized how much better than me other guitarists are, i’ve demoted myself to aspiring amateur. Musician.

Remember the guy i used to write Latin poetry for? Like 7 years ago? No? I googled him the other day. He’s married now. To his girlfriend. The one he left me for. When we were building our bond as ex-coworkers.

I have since found my soulmate, but he weaves in and out of my life like a hungry cat. Every time he distances himself from me, i have filled the void with my studies of classical music.

I am the most improved student in my class.

Today i walked into a music store and there was a guitarist there talking me up, like i totally thought- He’s going to ask me out.

Then i started to play and he must have seen my wedding ring because he left without getting my number.

I almost ran after him just to ask if he didn’t want it.

Of course, i wouldn’t have given it to him. I’m married.

I went to a Dance Club meeting today at the community college. I’ve been enrolled since last semester but i hadn’t been there in three months. The guy in charge is a really sweet kid. He makes choreography fit for his age. I cannot keep up with him. But it’s fun to try.

None of the dance professors will take responsibility for the club so we end up dancing out on the grass. We used to practice by the Performing Arts building, but too many teachers complained their students were ogling at us.

Hardly anyone meets anymore. Today there was a guy who wanted me to play guitar instead of dancing. He plays keyboard. Or is learning to. I think he was there by mistake?

Then he left and Tito (the club organizer) and i went outside to practice. He wants me to take Zumba classes to get in better shape.

…Boy, this is probably why no one meets. Choreography is too damn fast.

But it’s fun.

Maybe i should keep using my tumblr account and just write from the point of view of a Cone.