Day 1

I'm calling this day 1 because I took a 3 day spoken vacation. The day before the concert to avoid giving the vocal chords a nasty shock, the day of the show and the day following for the Lake birthday extravaganza.

After work and walking home from dinner this evening I realized the value of words as self defense- not meaning a sharp retort aimed at well meaning friends poking fun at your temporary muteness- as a way to repel further harassment from the men of Parkdale. Perpetually laden with plastic grocery bags mysteriously full, riding bicycles on the sidewalk and softly crooning at women on the street. One woman was propositioned by two young men in a mini van (I wonder where I've gone wrong that I can only entice men on bikes) apparently she was a scantily clad lady rather than a modestly dressed hooker. And on the block leading up to my home looking into the flat hungry eyes of the drug wasted citizens whose gazes could really be interpreted as friendly or malicious.

I'm never wearing this shirt outside again.

The contrast from speaking to not speaking is sharper this time. I feel like I've gone from being on a hardwood floor to a slate concrete one, if that makes any sense.

Like having a cigarette while attempting to quit makes you want one more than it satisfies you in the moment. And it's not that you're cheating, but you're cheating yourself.

And being able to sing for one night was this awful reminder of what I ought not do- everything from the endless sticky driving in rush hour to get to soundcheck, forgetting necessary things (like my guitar. Whoops.) and backtracking and going back to the venue and carrying heavy gear up many stairs and peeing so many times (and pooping nearly as many times) and feeling faint and dehydrated and nervous and light and tingly and waiting and performing for a room full of people who could care less about you (and a few who do care) and sweating too much and making no money and standing for hours and carrying heavy gear downstairs. All the things that I used to do everyday and loved for seven years and hated for one and loved again for one night.

Sorry for the long post. Feeling lonely...