| 024. |
[Oct 24, 2008 * 7:28pm] |
I have the sudden (and entirely unexpected) urge to go out tonight. I thought I'd moved past the stage of drinking too much and throwing myself around a dance floor, but these impulses say differently. Of course, that might be thanks for the radio station that keeps overplaying Pink's latest single. Never let it be said that music isn't an effective method for mind-controlling the masses.
Lucky for everyone in the clubbing world, you'll be spared my presence tonight. As strong as my impulses might be, my dread of a hangover is stronger.
I'm hoping for a release date on my next album, soon. Fair warning, however: I can't be held liable for my actions if anyone in the record company asks me if I've started working on the next one before this one is even out. He'll be less of a man (because no woman would be fool enough to make this mistake), and I'll put off working on anything for an extra year.
Halloween costume.. ready, go!
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| 023. |
[Sep 19, 2008 * 1:42am] |
All in favor of hunting down that ugly little man and impaling his head on a stick, say aye.
I'm leaning toward a mob hit.
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| 022. |
[Sep 16, 2008 * 1:50am] |
It is a sad, sad day when I don't have a thing to say. Really, I've got nothing. I was up all night last night, and I would like nothing more than to crawl into bed, but that just isn't going to happen for me. I have a crushing case of insomnia. I'm just about ready to drug myself and turn out the lights to catch a few winks before morning.
Because I can promise you that if I don't sleep tonight, this songbird won't be sounding too pretty in the studio tomorrow. Just a couple more days, and I'll be done.
I'm sick and tired of all this cryptic bullshit.
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| 021. |
[Aug 29, 2008 * 12:52pm] |
Jeez, I go off to concentrate on work for a few days, and everyone gets married, cheated on, or disappears. Funny how there's never any excitement when I'm here to pay attention to it. What the hell, people?
I do have to wonder how you get yourselves into so much trouble (says the woman who enjoys tempting fate), but then I realize that superpowers must come with the super ability to get yourselves in super deep. I feel like I should make that into a tongue twister, but I'm lazy. I'd forgotten what it was like to actually have job requirements.
So while I marvel at the sheer amount of strange things that have happened, I'll leave you with this:
( The World's Greatest Panda. )
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| 020. |
[Aug 22, 2008 * 2:19am] |
Not a single mention of my name in the gossip this week. God, can you imagine my disappointment? I'm practically in tears, here. No one invading my personal life and making up lies about me? It's devastating.
That was sarcasm, for those kiddos out there with a non-functioning radar.
Life has finally settled into something that feels almost comfortable to me. Key word there being almost. My wrist is officially healed, though I've been putting it to good use (minds out of the gutter, folks!) for the past couple of weeks. I'm going to hit the recording studio on Monday, and already I'm getting those pre-production jitters. Cassidy Merchant gets nervous before recording? Yes, I know you're shocked. Try to contain it, because I'm really no more of a superhero than the rest of you. (God, this is bad joke central tonight. You have my apologies.) To spare what little dignity and reputation I have, I leave you with your usual lolcat:
( This one reminds me of you for some reason, L. )
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| 019. |
[Aug 11, 2008 * 4:13am] |
It's a shame the Olympics didn't start sooner; I could have used the entertainment during my two weeks of self-imposed social exile. Luckily, my cast is off, meaning I made remarkable progress on this album (which is good news, considering the scathing lecture I got while in L.A.). In a week or two, I'll be hitting the recording studio, but I do have a few rough versions of the new songs on my computer. Ah, the wonders of technology.
Here's an exclusive. Trust me, I'm not so vain as to think that you'll all rush to download it, but I happen to be unusually proud of it. I had some great inspiration.
My productiveness aside, there's a real issue at hand. The Olympics are dangerously (cheesy?) addictive. I really should turn the television off, but all these athletes are a huge distraction. Not only are they incredibly fit, but a good number of them are cute, too. These guys just have it all. What's a girl to do?
I'm particularly fond of anyone who isn't Michael Phelps.
[[obviously, that is not cass. but that is what she sounds like, so please just pretend that it's strictly an audio download, etc.]]
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| 017. |
[Jul 23, 2008 * 2:34pm] |
If anyone out there has any great plans to destroy the world (or even the continental United States), please strike before Friday. I'd be much obliged.
Thank God for being back to normal. I have a trip out to L.A. next week, and I wasn't too hot on the idea of showing up as a teenager. I'm sure the company execs would love it, because young blondes sell all the records, but I'm old-fashioned and like to pretend that talent still counts for something. If I relied on looks alone, I'm sure I'd be staring down a very short career.
And as my token LOLcat: ( I know this is my method. )
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| 016. |
[Jul 16, 2008 * 12:51am] |
While there's something to be said for youth, I don't think I ever wanted to be seventeen again. Especially right now. I know, I must be a freak. The only woman nearing thirty who doesn't want to jump back in time. Anyone have any idea what's going on? A mass epidemic of the fountain of youth seems like a bit of a stretch.
If I weren't already planning to stay locked up in my apartment, this would be a real pain. As it is, I'm just making unfortunate comparisons to the difference of ten years.
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| 015. |
[Jul 14, 2008 * 2:24am] |
With Doomsday swiftly approaching, one has to take a few moments to look back over one's life. Really think about the important things. Try not to regret the mistakes. Tell the people who matter that you care about them, etc. I'm doing none of these things. Go figure.
My kitchen has exploded, lately. I have no more counter space and my fridge is filled to the brim. Anyone who wants to take this food off my hands, really, be my guest. Especially the cookies.
On a completely different note, the Ad Council's commercial about children and gun deaths is heartbreaking. No one wants to be the mother who loses her child.
Doomsday does tend to make me a little introspective. My apologies; such a terrible thing won't happen again.
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| 014. |
[Jul 7, 2008 * 10:20pm] |
( Your weekly LOLcat. )
My week just took a remarkable turn for the worse. Why the hell did we invent the telephone?
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| 013. |
[Jul 3, 2008 * 11:06pm] |
Three more weeks and counting, and I'm losing my mind. The urge to whack my cast against the wall is increasing day by day. Hour by hour, even. Circumstances are becoming dire. The worst part is when I have an itch under the cast. It's like my own personal hell, all wrapped around my dainty little wrist.
I need something to take my mind off of it.
I did manage to record something. It took a massive amount of time, plugging away one-handedly, but I now have something that resembles a finished product. Oo, aah.
Sarcasm is high on my to-do list today.
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| 012. |
[Jun 28, 2008 * 8:25pm] |
I find that when lacking something substantial to say, one can always ( turn to lolcats: )
I think that about sums it up, really. My wrist is getting plenty of R&R thanks to my Knight in Shining Hardware, and I've actually managed to pound out a tune or two one-handedly. Miracle of all miracles! Things are looking up.
Time to go stare at some more small, fuzzy animals. Couldn't you just eat them up?
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| 011. |
[Jun 23, 2008 * 12:08am] |
Nothing is more frustrating than this. Honestly. I wasn't made to type one-handedly, despite what practice I may have had in the past.
I'm so pissed off I'm just sick of I think I may turn in early tonight. There's only so much mocking a girl can take from her keyboard before exhaustion hits.
Linus, would you
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| 010. |
[Jun 18, 2008 * 8:47pm] |
Well, shit. Of all the rotten luck. (Consider this the PG-13 reaction.)
I went out for my morning run today, tripped, and broke my wrist. I'm stuck doing everything one-handed. And as much as this sounds like one giant masturbation joke, it isn't, unfortunately. I've been abusing Advil and staring wistfully at my keyboard since I got home from the hospital.
The irony is that I suddenly have more inspiration than I know what to do with. I'll have to content myself with just scribbling down ideas. This cast isn't my best look, though, I'll tell you that.
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| 009. |
[Jun 13, 2008 * 4:03am] |
You know, I really love ( this commercial: )
It makes me wonder what my hands get up to while I'm asleep.
Anyone else notice that the gossip column seemed a bit strange this week? I wonder how that happened. Either Spencer has been in the liquor cabinet, or someone has been tampering with our precious gossip.
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| 008. |
[Jun 4, 2008 * 2:51am] |
( Click me? )
You have to give points for using a fish as a pickup line.
The music festival is sneaking up on me quickly. Before you know it, it'll be ten minutes before showtime and I'll still be deciding what to play. I'm thinking a new song, though. Hit them all where they least expect it.
It's a start.
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| 007. |
[Jun 1, 2008 * 5:18am] |
So, I just found out last night that there's a party next month for the the label that I'm required to attend, barring death or hideous disfigurement. Though, as always, I'm sure the latter is conditional. My manager tells me that everyone is buzzing about my attendance, but I'm convinced that most of the hoopla is over the extra money that they can now charge per plate. My, aren't I a cynic today?
My point, however, is not the grand scam that my label is trying to pull (though it is a grand scam, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise)00. Along with the notice about the party, my manager also sent a list of possible dates for me, with a note that she could "get" any of them for me if I "act fast". I can't decide whether to be pissed that she thinks I can't pick out my own date, or tickled by the fact that she thinks she can.
I'd like to see how well she thinks she knows my type. Bet she'd be surprised.
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| 006. |
[May 30, 2008 * 2:13am] |
So, Jude. I was thinking Joshua if it's a boy, and April if it's a girl. What say you?
I wonder if these rumors give me permission to eat like a pregnant woman.
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| 005. |
[May 28, 2008 * 1:52am] |
I've moved past just ignoring my guitar, and moved onto avoiding my keyboard as well. If that weren't bad enough, I'm hooked on the world's most inane game. The Helicopter Game.
Go on, beat my score of 1519 1977. I dare you.
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| 004. |
[May 23, 2008 * 1:30am] |
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Goodness. This must be the next immaculate conception. Who knew?
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| 003. |
[May 20, 2008 * 7:36pm] |
This is me, proudly typing on my new laptop. With my fancy new webcam included. I figured it was time to trade up after the old one started to look like a dinosaur, even to me. This is one gorgeous machine, I'll give it that. When did graphics become so good? I never knew. It's like a whole new world has been opened to me.
God, imagine what porn looks like on this thing!
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| 002. |
[May 10, 2008 * 6:44pm] |
So, in the interest of something a little different, how many of you aren't going to the Gala? Antisocialism is the way of the future. Unless we're talking politically, and then socialism has a point. (Of course, so does communism, but we all saw how that turned out.)
My guitar and I have reached a stalemate. I could break the silence, but I'm a stubborn one.
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| 001. |
[May 5, 2008 * 3:18am] |
Could someone please explain to me why the words "I'd like this summer off" mean nothing? It doesn't mean yes, I'd love to do a last-minute tour starting in August in promotion of the album I'm working on right now. It means please, give me the entire summer off so I can be alone. I need time to lock myself in my apartment with just my guitar for company.
Fuck this promotional shit. Ever get the feeling your job owns you?
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