like shattered glass

So many reasons. So many reasons I have only a handful of relationships I care about keeping. Days like today remind me why that's a good idea, and discourage keeping even those few.

insomnia

If I go to sleep, I have to face tomorrow.

going nowhere

I was supposed to be on a plane today. Bought a ticket and everything. I really, really wish I were using that ticket.

game on

So this is part two of however many of the power of perception blog. My basic thought here was two related matters, put into slightly different approaches. Or something. First, who really gets to decide who we are and how we come across? Does a jerk know they're a jerk? Does a flake know they're a flake? When does who we are fly out of our control and into a social vote? Second, how we act and what we say is a reflection on ourselves. We know our own justifications, we know our excuses, but a stranger overhearing you doesn't know anything about you except for the one statement they hear. If you tell a joke, they'll probably think you're a funny person. If you said something funny, it probably wouldn't be a stretch to say you probably are somewhat of a funny person. If the stranger hears you say something catty and rude, you are probably somewhat catty and rude, because you said a catty and rude thing.

I think there's something to be said for gut reactions, initial impressions, etc. And unbiased look. It shouldn't by any means total who you are as a person (& there will always be context to consider), but there's no escaping that it does matter, again, probably more than we would like.

jury dooty

Here's what I would like to say to the jury duty people:

Hello? Hi, my name is Courtney Jones and I recieved a jury summons (for the third time this year) about two weeks ago and this is my attempt to get out of it. It says I'm supposed to respond within five days and I obviously haven't done that. I was in LA when it came in the mail and got back a couple days ago, but haven't called before now because, well, I'm not really the most dependable person when it comes to deadlines set by other people about something I don't understand, and in addition to that, have a seemingly unexplainable aversion to making phone calls. I talk to my attorney more than I talk to my best friend. It's nothing personal.

So anyway, I'm calling to let you know that I am an incredibly disorganized and unreliable flake that no one in their right mind would want sitting on a jury anyway. I've left stuff in hotel rooms after checkout twice in the last month, and have left my purse in four restaurants in that same timeframe. I can't show up to work on time to save my life, and the only reason I have what resembles a real job is because my dad hired me to answer the phone, which, see previous statement, causes ridiculous anxiety in my life. I only took what resembles this real job because a) I owe my dad bigtime for the money and time he's put in to my blossoming music career and b) I need all the money I can get. See, I'm a free-loading college dropout living at home rent-free because I just couldn't cut it in the real world. I've paid tens of thousands of dollars into my music to date, and am on the line for tens of thousands more, which, not surprisingly, I don't have. So in addition to constantly living under the pressure of spending tens of thousands of dollars of my and my parents money for something that odds are won't pan out to be even remotely profitable, I was a bit scatterbrained to begin with. In addition to music expenses, of which there are many, I also have pending legal and dental expenses and haven't taken care of my 2006 taxes yet. Basically I have very little chance of achieving even a remote amount of sanity.

Even if my brain functioned like a normal person's, I have no transportation to get me to the opposite side of the county at 8:30 in the freaking morning (have I mentioned the insomnia yet?). Not only do I have no car, I have no license. Parents both work, I have no friends that can take me (I'm rather limited when it comes to friends to begin with), there's no bus that goes that direction and no taxi within a 50 mile radius.

And even if on top of all that, if I was able to make it and for some reason was put on a jury, I am in the state of Oregon as much as I'm out of it, which wouldn't do anyone any good. I'm already booked, and I don't think that convincing people to pay me for missing gigs because of jury duty is going to fly.

So, unsympathetic jury duty nazi that only answers the phone between 8:00am and noon PDT, I'm really of no use to you. Please find someone else to fill my place (like, I don't know, one of my parents (who you can reach at the same address), since neither of them has ever received a jury summons). Really, you've given me more than my fair share of attention. Okay. Goodbye.


Think that'll do it?

life on the road

I'm currently enjoying my free internet, compliments of Valencia Marriott. I really will get back to the previous observation on perception and other such things, but for now I'm feeling a different direction.

Courtney's pros and cons of hotels and travel:

Cons
-looking like crap when you check in
-semi-unpacking
-travel food
-impatient drivers (in and out of the car)
-constant togetherness with travel companion


Pros
-awesome random tv you wouldn't watch at any other time
-no crappy job for a few days
-tiny shampoo
-endless supply of clean towels
-lobby cookies

car

I'm leaving in a few hours to make the lengthy drive to LA, where I'll be for about a week. I promise to follow up on the last blog, just don't have the attention span for it right now and still need to finish packing.

The power of perception

I think there is less difference between what we are and what people think we are than most of us would like to admit.

Rest in peace

Here lie Time and Conversation
I raise my eyes to see the sun
I'm on my knees
in the cemetary trees
Is it too late to save me?

Wasted hours of contemplation
Never brought me further than I am
Lost in rows
of written in stone
Is it too late to save me?

Alleluia

Can we avoid a confrontation
and still speak to matters of the heart?
A passing glance
at an untaken chance
Is it too late to save me?

Heart as heavy as headstone
Beating in a hollow chest
No one here for comfort
As my fears are laid to rest

Hold me close, Imagination
and bring me hope to spite the pain
Life is time
for the victimless crime
Is it too late to save me