ericboy's Diaryland Diary

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\"It's too late for me / all you want to do is get rid of me\" - Slipknot

So, diaryland is back from its momentary hiatus, and I've checked the "edit my profile" link and it's still there, but when I got to look at it, nothing happens. Oh well, I'm sure it will straighten itself out.
We played the Honey Bee Hive yesterday and it rocked! Of all my friends who said they'd be there without doubt, one showed up. Yay! I used the anger, the righteous pure anger of the wronged, and put it into the performance. For the first four songs, I said nothing. I didn't even announce that we were going to start. I just looked at the band, nodded my head, and we hit it. Four songs, back to back, no blabber from the spoon-fed white boy in the light lavender camiseta. Then I started dedicating songs.
"This goes out to all the motherfuckers who didn't show up. Fuck 'em!"
"This goes out to all you badass motherfuckers who are here tonight. You make San Diego breathe."
"This goes out to bands that don't dick around and just play music for the masses, but actually take pride in what they do and deliver art."
"This goes out to people who stand up for what they fucking believe in."
Our set was relentless, our energy infectious, our visceral strength infalliable. It was amazing. Afterwards, the crowd went bat-shit. Some O.G. WES fans came up to me and congratulated me for giving them a hell of a show.
I'd had my eye on this girl all night long. She was short, with her hair pulled back in two little tails and horn-rimmed glasses on a small face. I was mesmerized by her. She reminded me of Becki, and I so wanted to talk to her. But I was just so angry about the turn-out and my absent friends and the fact that we had to cut a song from our set that I stayed away. I knew whatever I said would come out militant and wrong. Or she'd warm my heart and I'd blow ass on stage, jacked out of the moment by a pair of big, pretty eyes. So I did nothing.
After we finished our set, she walked up to me, extended her hand and said. "You have an amazing voice. Really."
I was stunned. I stammered and said, "I couldn't hear myself; I hope it sounded okay."
"It sounded absolutely great. You really have a very powerful and amzaing voice."
"Thank you," I said, holding her hand like a dead rodent and feeling small and stupid. I stared at her for too long, and when she finally figured out that I had nothing to grab hold of in my head to continue any kind of conversation, she turned around and walked away.
I wanted to say things. I wanted to keep talking to her. But nothing came. Why am I so awkward?
Tomorrow night is another gig with the same band that she had originally come to see last night. Hopefully she'll be there and I can say "hi" or something. I hate feeling tongue-tied, but I should be used to it.

1:50 a.m. - 2005-01-22

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