So, I don’t have a car right now. The muffler went on my truck a few months ago and I haven’t had the money to fix it. I also don’t have a phone right now, because I didn’t pay my landline bill and I’ve lost my cell phone charger. Today my internet got shut off, which means I can only be online when I’m on my porch stealing somebody else’s. Also, my doorbell is broken, meaning that if anyone decided to stop by I wouldn’t even hear them. I also ate a six-yolk omelet today, because I bought a dozen magical/toxic eggs and seven out of nine eggs so far have had double yolks. So if I happen to have a cholesterol-related emergency tonight I’m sort of fucked, as far as calling a hospital goes.
I’m feeling very isolated. And bored. I read a book today, organized my bookshelves, masturbated four or possibly five times, cleaned out my sock drawer, put lots of stray CDs back in their cases, napped, wrote a dirty story, and I’ve been listening to the Knife for about four hours now. I’m bored in a way I haven’t been bored in years. This is high school boredom. (Which is sort of fitting, because earlier this week I became reacquainted with high school angst, when I visited my dad for his birthday. Oh boy!)
Annoying, a friend who’s moving to Atlanta was having a going away dinner tonight but I couldn’t afford to go. And tomorrow is Foo Fest, a big art/music festival downtown, and while I’m not super-enthused about the lineup–the Sun Ra Arkestra isn’t really my kind of thing, and Lightning Bolt are only entertaining when I’m riotously drunk, which I won’t be–but I was still planning to go. Although I don’t know if I can manage an all-day event without even having the money to buy a fucking coffee, never mind beer or dinner.
So, that’s where I am right now. Broke, bored and cranky.
Filed under: design of a decade, music, people from rhode island | Tags: 2002, belly, rhode island
[Kicking off my review of my 10 favorite songs of 2002.]
#10. Tanya Donelly, So Much Song and Belly, Spaceman
I love Belly.
I mean, everyone loves Belly, or at least I think they do, because what’s not to love? But Belly have a very special place in my heart for a bunch of reasons. In seventh grade, for instance, the whole “alternative” thing was passing me by. Nirvana may have been for the disenchanted, but I was too insecure to even hang out with the anti-social kids. Plus I grew up on pop, with no angsty older siblings to make fun of my Janet Jackson fixation, so Temple of the Dog didn’t really cut it for me.
Belly, on the other hand, I understood. Their songs were catchy—really catchy—and a lot more fun to bop around to than Alice In Chains. They were cool, alternative, but also I could play them in front of my mom. Plus their singer was a pretty lady, and when all the hot hot boys on the school bus used to ask me what celebrities I wanted to bang, Tanya Donelly was a really convenient (and convincing) answer. (Never mind that, in retrospect, they featured on what may have been the most aesthetically displeasing of forty years’ worth of aesthetically displeasing Rolling Stone covers.)
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