so just as i was coming down from my amazing-friday-night-jack's-mannequin high, excitement level immediately shot back up because meesh was coming to see me! she's been all over the midwest for interviews and kansas city was next on the list. and of course, this meant a stop in columbia so we could hang out for a few days. i just can't get past how bizarre [and awesome] it all was. some random girl i saw at a show, eventually added on facebook, traveled to shows with, and now have become best friends with, was coming to hang out with me. we were in my college town, in my apartment, and not going to a show. we were just hanging out like any pair of normal friends would. i love my life and all it's strange occurances. [thanks for hookin it up, we the living.]
so we got dinner with my other roommates saturday night, and sat around watching the olympics and talked about everything under the sun. sunday afternoon involved lunch at bread co, and meesh eventually headed west to kansas city. and then monday came, and meesh came back after her interview in the afternoon. we once again were lazy bums watching the olympics... good times. tuesday brought a little excitement though. life in jersey was in town and i was super stoked to finally have a show buddy. small shows are always awkward when you're alone and i still haven't gotten used to it... so we got a late dinner and headed over to mojo's. opener was... interesting. life in jersey [with quite the line-up change] was fantastic as always, and highland fall was your typical pop rock band. not really my thing, but they weren't too shabby. so we hung around for a bit and bought some merch and tried to to explain to a very intoxicated carson how we knew various band friends. successful show. successful "weekend" hanging out with meesh. good times all around.
now, on to march. prepare for lots of show-related blogs. march will be the month that i will likely lose my sanity due to a multitude of epic shows and lack of sleep. let the craziness begin [on tuesday.]
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
kansas city: fun. and jack's mannequin
i'm behind in the blogosphere! oh well, it was quite the busy weekend. but friday was indeed full of up and downs. i woke up feeling like absolute death and dragged myself through the day. i barely made it, so i decided to skip my last class so i could take a nap before making the drive to kansas city. coherence while driving > american literature. so i came home and crashed for a few hours which helped my terrible stomach and headache, and was eventually on my way to kansas city. found the beaumont club with no serious trouble and got in line around seven forty five. doors were supposed to be at seven, but alas. we weren't let inside until eight and i missed most of vedera's set, which was dissappointing because i really liked the few songs i got to hear. i also did my good deed of the day - the couple in front of me didn't have any cash for the two dollar minor charge so i paid for all of us and told them to pay it forward. i know if that were me, i'd be pissed beyond belief if i had to lose my spot in line to go hunt for a random atm for four measly dollars.
anyways. the show. vedera was great and i'm definitely going to be keeping an eye out for them in the future. fun was fantastic as well, and i'm kind of ashamed to say that i haven't bought their album yet. no idea why, actually. but i'll get around to it when i decide to spend the money. i was secretly hoping they'd play a format song or two, but no... bummer. mr. mcmahaon made up for it though. he came on stage and proceeded to complain about playing the show because he'd rather be on the bus watching curling. HA. the set was amazing, i sang my little heart out, and of course made friends with the people next to me, and we made fun of the drunk girl behind me who couldn't even stand up. oh the entertainment. the crowd was great too, and we even succeeded in getting not one, but two encores. bad ass.
so after the show, we slowly filed out and i ran into the couple i had paid for earlier. we chatted briefly and they convinced me to get coffee with them - there was a twenty four hour coffee shop right next door to the venue and they insisted on paying me back since he had a credit card with him. so we got coffee and traded show stories, and i eventually made the drive back to columbia. it really restored my faith in humanity - it's not often you come across genuinely nice and honest people. what a friday night.
anyways. the show. vedera was great and i'm definitely going to be keeping an eye out for them in the future. fun was fantastic as well, and i'm kind of ashamed to say that i haven't bought their album yet. no idea why, actually. but i'll get around to it when i decide to spend the money. i was secretly hoping they'd play a format song or two, but no... bummer. mr. mcmahaon made up for it though. he came on stage and proceeded to complain about playing the show because he'd rather be on the bus watching curling. HA. the set was amazing, i sang my little heart out, and of course made friends with the people next to me, and we made fun of the drunk girl behind me who couldn't even stand up. oh the entertainment. the crowd was great too, and we even succeeded in getting not one, but two encores. bad ass.
so after the show, we slowly filed out and i ran into the couple i had paid for earlier. we chatted briefly and they convinced me to get coffee with them - there was a twenty four hour coffee shop right next door to the venue and they insisted on paying me back since he had a credit card with him. so we got coffee and traded show stories, and i eventually made the drive back to columbia. it really restored my faith in humanity - it's not often you come across genuinely nice and honest people. what a friday night.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
not so tough found out
i've always been a little crazy. but that's nothing out of the ordinary. we're all crazy. when i was really young, i had this strange fixation with the number six. [pair that with the stereotypical redhead temper and yes, i was truly a spawn of satan.] i would count to six, and then i would have to do that six times. and once that set was complete, i would do all of that six times, and keep on going. there were also the strange noises. i would lay in bed at night and make these "duh duh duh" sounds with my tongue in particular little rhythms. and i could only be done when i was satisfied with the rhythm and it felt finished. like i said, a little crazy.
now my crazy nuances are stress-related. i had my first panic attack two summers ago and it was the scariest, most traumatic experience of my life. granted, my state of mind was a bit altered, but regardless, it took me a good while to fully get over that. and then it happened again, and pretty soon i had myself conditioned to where smoking pot meant having a panic attack. needless to say, i haven't smoked anymore. so unfortunately, that has planted the thought in the back of my mind about having another attack. and the most recent addition to that worry, is my breathing habits. i can't get a full breath in, which makes me freak out and sometimes hyperventilate. this in turn leads to an attack. and thus, the cycle repeats itself.
well i got tired of the cycle. because it was getting in the way of living my life, and preventing me from sleeping. so i finally made a decision and scheduled an appointment to see someone. and i have learned that i am not alone. and that there are solutions to the problem. and that i am not as crazy as i think i am. *sigh of relief!* what you think about me, however, is another story i guess.
now my crazy nuances are stress-related. i had my first panic attack two summers ago and it was the scariest, most traumatic experience of my life. granted, my state of mind was a bit altered, but regardless, it took me a good while to fully get over that. and then it happened again, and pretty soon i had myself conditioned to where smoking pot meant having a panic attack. needless to say, i haven't smoked anymore. so unfortunately, that has planted the thought in the back of my mind about having another attack. and the most recent addition to that worry, is my breathing habits. i can't get a full breath in, which makes me freak out and sometimes hyperventilate. this in turn leads to an attack. and thus, the cycle repeats itself.
well i got tired of the cycle. because it was getting in the way of living my life, and preventing me from sleeping. so i finally made a decision and scheduled an appointment to see someone. and i have learned that i am not alone. and that there are solutions to the problem. and that i am not as crazy as i think i am. *sigh of relief!* what you think about me, however, is another story i guess.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
everything in transit
i wrote this after watching dear jack a few months ago, the documentary about andrew mcmahon's battle with leukemia. now, i realize today is valentine's day. and i realize this is a bit of a downer. so i'm sorry about that, but i felt like this deserved to be published, as i will be seeing jack's mannequin at the end of this week in kansas city. live shows are always super exciting for me, but jack's mannequin always evokes heightened emotions, and i usually end up shedding some tears. perhaps this is why.
it makes me ache. and it takes me so quickly back to two and a half years ago when that was me, and my family. me and my mom and my dad. it was me in minnesota for a week and a half at the mayo clinic doing the same thing that andrew's sister katie did. i donated my stem cells for a transplant to save my mom. i had the hormone shots twice a day, for seven days. they made my bones produce extra stem cells and it hurt like the strangest pain you'll never understand. it was a dull ache, and it was everywhere.
i remember all the snow on the ground; so high that when we walked on the side walks we couldn't even see the cars on the streets. just me and my dad. my mom was confined to her apartment and hospital bed only. she was allowed to travel nowhere else. but me and my dad freely walked. and i lagged behind. every step made every bone in my body ache and i was exhausted. we went to mall of america. i should have been enthralled by all the stores and clothes and restaurants and roller coasters. but i just wanted to sit. or lay down. or float, rather, because any pressure on any part of my body hurt. i remember all the homework i was supposed to be doing. but didn't. because when your mom has a 105 degree fever and chemo isn't working, you have more important things to worry about. and when you have a tube stuck in your wrist for those seven days, it's hard to hold a pen anyway, because the little thing in your vein rolls around and it hurts too, just like your bones.
i never told anyone back home any of this. if i did, it would have on my xanga... man, those were the days... because what do my complaints mean when my mom is the one in the hospital dying of leukemia? what do my complaints mean when i've been here seven days and she's been here seven weeks? i'm supposed to be the hero. i'm supposed to be the one saving her life. and it didn't work. my cells didn't work. they didn't do their job and leukemia still ravaged her marrow.
i remember the time we went for a visit, the time before she was so terribly sick and could still travel freely around the city. the time before the aching bones and mall of america trips. she was up there alone for a few weeks and had settled into the apartment that was specifically for patients receiving care at the clinic. my dad and i went up so i could have extensive testing done. testing to make sure i was an eligible stem cell donor. after all, they were my cells that were supposed to be taking over my mom's body and giving her a second chance at life. i remember the three of us sitting on the hotel bed together, all holding each other and crying. my mom was terrified and didn't want us to leave her there alone. and i also remember my mom having a particular attachment to the snow patrol song 'chasing cars.' we listened to it together and cried and cried and cried. if i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world she kept repeating over and over. it was awful. and then we left. and flew back home. my dad would fly back a week later for a month to be with her during all the treatments. and then i was the one left alone.
it was at the same time she had the snow patrol attachment, that i had a jack's mannequin attachment. everything in transit was the soundtrack to all the road trips north, and all the plane flights north, and all the drives in the rental car meandering minneapolis. i had no idea of andrew's bout with leukemia. i had no idea that album was finished the day he was diagnosed. i had no idea that those songs, the ones that comforted me through all those months of utter loneliness, were the songs written by a man who had survived leukemia. it was a coincidence, and looking back, it was an eerie one. because i can't really make a happy comparison of triumphs. but i can look back and have a hint of a smile, even though it's a smile with tears and pain in it too.
it makes me ache. and it takes me so quickly back to two and a half years ago when that was me, and my family. me and my mom and my dad. it was me in minnesota for a week and a half at the mayo clinic doing the same thing that andrew's sister katie did. i donated my stem cells for a transplant to save my mom. i had the hormone shots twice a day, for seven days. they made my bones produce extra stem cells and it hurt like the strangest pain you'll never understand. it was a dull ache, and it was everywhere.
i remember all the snow on the ground; so high that when we walked on the side walks we couldn't even see the cars on the streets. just me and my dad. my mom was confined to her apartment and hospital bed only. she was allowed to travel nowhere else. but me and my dad freely walked. and i lagged behind. every step made every bone in my body ache and i was exhausted. we went to mall of america. i should have been enthralled by all the stores and clothes and restaurants and roller coasters. but i just wanted to sit. or lay down. or float, rather, because any pressure on any part of my body hurt. i remember all the homework i was supposed to be doing. but didn't. because when your mom has a 105 degree fever and chemo isn't working, you have more important things to worry about. and when you have a tube stuck in your wrist for those seven days, it's hard to hold a pen anyway, because the little thing in your vein rolls around and it hurts too, just like your bones.
i never told anyone back home any of this. if i did, it would have on my xanga... man, those were the days... because what do my complaints mean when my mom is the one in the hospital dying of leukemia? what do my complaints mean when i've been here seven days and she's been here seven weeks? i'm supposed to be the hero. i'm supposed to be the one saving her life. and it didn't work. my cells didn't work. they didn't do their job and leukemia still ravaged her marrow.
i remember the time we went for a visit, the time before she was so terribly sick and could still travel freely around the city. the time before the aching bones and mall of america trips. she was up there alone for a few weeks and had settled into the apartment that was specifically for patients receiving care at the clinic. my dad and i went up so i could have extensive testing done. testing to make sure i was an eligible stem cell donor. after all, they were my cells that were supposed to be taking over my mom's body and giving her a second chance at life. i remember the three of us sitting on the hotel bed together, all holding each other and crying. my mom was terrified and didn't want us to leave her there alone. and i also remember my mom having a particular attachment to the snow patrol song 'chasing cars.' we listened to it together and cried and cried and cried. if i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world she kept repeating over and over. it was awful. and then we left. and flew back home. my dad would fly back a week later for a month to be with her during all the treatments. and then i was the one left alone.
it was at the same time she had the snow patrol attachment, that i had a jack's mannequin attachment. everything in transit was the soundtrack to all the road trips north, and all the plane flights north, and all the drives in the rental car meandering minneapolis. i had no idea of andrew's bout with leukemia. i had no idea that album was finished the day he was diagnosed. i had no idea that those songs, the ones that comforted me through all those months of utter loneliness, were the songs written by a man who had survived leukemia. it was a coincidence, and looking back, it was an eerie one. because i can't really make a happy comparison of triumphs. but i can look back and have a hint of a smile, even though it's a smile with tears and pain in it too.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
to be happy now
i can't believe i'm already two weeks into the semester. time flies when you're... okay so i'm not having fun getting up at seven in the morning per se... but whatevs. time has flown and that's a fact. i'm feeling pretty confident about this semester and the somewhat destructive sleep schedule really isn't too bad. classes seem to be going alright so far and i absolutely love my philosophy professor. this is probably the first time in my life that i've felt genuine excitement about going to class, and disappointment when the hour and fifteen minutes are up. i'm also appreciating the fact that the majority of my homework is merely reading. yes, it's close to three hours ever night, but at least i'm not pumping out differential equations. but enough about classes. here's a laundry list of other things that have been going on in my life:
i'm graduating a semester early, so december '11, here i come. [who wants to hire me? no seriously.] lucky for me, i transferred in enough credits from highschool as to where i'm plenty ahead. SCORE. get me the fuck outta here as soon as possible please and thanks.
the internship with building rome has been going pretty well, and i scored my first big interview just the other day.
i've rediscovered my love for reading, and i've been eating lots of fruits and vegetables because i WANT to. [perhaps a sign of maturity?]
speaking of reading, i have begun the colossal task of wading through atlas shrugged. and although it's bringing up more questions than answers right now, and has left me in a slight state of psychological distress, i'm trying to work on that virtue called patience and just keep at it.
there have also been numerous musically inclined freak-outs over the past few days. one - the cavashawn/state and madison/the heyday show was finally confirmed in st. louis. two - good old war is opening for circa survive. three - i actually have a show buddy for said circa show in st. louis. four - i have discovered strikegently.com. five - building rome nabbed the opening spot for the story of the year cd release show.
//end list. and although that's a fairly positive list and classes are indeed going well, there's still that anxiety that comes creeping back into my head when everything in life gets going again. i stress over ridiculous things, overanalyze to the point of insanity, make mental lists and check them over and over and over, can't fall asleep because of all of the above, and in general get pretty crazy. BUT. i'm working on it. and hopefully i will get better at it.
i'm graduating a semester early, so december '11, here i come. [who wants to hire me? no seriously.] lucky for me, i transferred in enough credits from highschool as to where i'm plenty ahead. SCORE. get me the fuck outta here as soon as possible please and thanks.
the internship with building rome has been going pretty well, and i scored my first big interview just the other day.
i've rediscovered my love for reading, and i've been eating lots of fruits and vegetables because i WANT to. [perhaps a sign of maturity?]
speaking of reading, i have begun the colossal task of wading through atlas shrugged. and although it's bringing up more questions than answers right now, and has left me in a slight state of psychological distress, i'm trying to work on that virtue called patience and just keep at it.
there have also been numerous musically inclined freak-outs over the past few days. one - the cavashawn/state and madison/the heyday show was finally confirmed in st. louis. two - good old war is opening for circa survive. three - i actually have a show buddy for said circa show in st. louis. four - i have discovered strikegently.com. five - building rome nabbed the opening spot for the story of the year cd release show.
//end list. and although that's a fairly positive list and classes are indeed going well, there's still that anxiety that comes creeping back into my head when everything in life gets going again. i stress over ridiculous things, overanalyze to the point of insanity, make mental lists and check them over and over and over, can't fall asleep because of all of the above, and in general get pretty crazy. BUT. i'm working on it. and hopefully i will get better at it.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
things to come
so this is it. the end of break. the longest break EVER, in fact. nashville feels like ages ago, as does christmas and new years, and even chicago. but i'm ready for new things, i'm ready to see what this semester will bring. and i'm very ready to have structure in my life again. i love staying up until five am and sleeping until two in the afternoon. i love watching tv and reading all day long and drinking coffee at my little hideouts all night long. but let's face it, the rest of the world just doesn't operate on that kind of schedule. school is only sort-of going to fix that problem, though. monday, wednesday, friday: i'll be on campus from nine to three. but tuesday, thursday: i only have one class and it's at three thirty. commence utterly ridiculous sleeping schedule. here are a couple listy lists for your curiosity and for my ocd.
classes:
english 3210 – british lit: romanticism – present
english 3300 – american lit: beginning – 1865
english 4940 – internship in english
philosophy 3200 – modern philosophy
sociology 1120 – population and ecology
french 2100 – french 3
upcoming shows:
2/19 - jacks mannequin and fun in KC
2/23 - life in jersey in columbia
3/2 - avett brothers in columbia
3/6 - we the living in st. louis
3/12 - state & madison, cavashawn and the heyday in st. louis
3/16 - company of thieves and civil twilight in st. louis
3/18 - copeland in lawrence
3/19 - manchester orchestra and biffy clyro in KC
3/22 - good old war and circa survive in st. louis
3/24 - portugal. the man in columbia
so there you have it. my life for the next few months in two neat little lists.
p.s. new e-mail address. i now have a personal account with gmail, and it makes me feel super cool. so go and send me something, i absolutely love getting mail. devonlmueller@gmail.com
classes:
english 3210 – british lit: romanticism – present
english 3300 – american lit: beginning – 1865
english 4940 – internship in english
philosophy 3200 – modern philosophy
sociology 1120 – population and ecology
french 2100 – french 3
upcoming shows:
2/19 - jacks mannequin and fun in KC
2/23 - life in jersey in columbia
3/2 - avett brothers in columbia
3/6 - we the living in st. louis
3/12 - state & madison, cavashawn and the heyday in st. louis
3/16 - company of thieves and civil twilight in st. louis
3/18 - copeland in lawrence
3/19 - manchester orchestra and biffy clyro in KC
3/22 - good old war and circa survive in st. louis
3/24 - portugal. the man in columbia
so there you have it. my life for the next few months in two neat little lists.
p.s. new e-mail address. i now have a personal account with gmail, and it makes me feel super cool. so go and send me something, i absolutely love getting mail. devonlmueller@gmail.com
Friday, January 15, 2010
clarity
an unedited thought or two that used to be private, but are now public because it's 3:30AM and it feels like the right thing to do
i sometimes wonder if the thoughts i'm having can't be pinned down by words. what if there is no distinct word that exists to fulfill a meaning? how much truth and understanding are we losing out on by language barriers alone? what if there is a whole entire scope of reality that we have no way to comprehend, simply because we don't have the words? THOSE are the things i want to write about. to be ABLE to write about. i want to find those words. the ones that we don't have.
but for now, music does the job.
-----
and the cycle repeats itself. every single time, it never fails. i get so out of the school and "people i know" element and absolutely love it. then i get back to real life and loathe my very existence in it. i KNOW i need the degree, i KNOW i need the schooling, i KNOW i'm not actually going to drop out... but it's so easy. it's right there. if i wanted to, i could reach out and grab it so easily. and i want it SO FUCKING BAD.
i just can't even begin to explain the pure joy that i feel when i'm in this element of band related groups of people. it illuminates something within me and i know it's where i belong. i know deep deep down in the very essence of my soul, that i belong amongst these people. because they make me want to cry tears of joy every single minute i'm with them. i am overflowing with it; with love, respect, awe, and everything else happy and perfect. and i know it's not like that all the time. but i know i could live it. i know it. and i want it so bad. but now i'm back here, home alone, trying so hard to process everything that has happened in the past twenty four hours and there's but one face that i absolutely can't get out of my head. and i hate being back here. back in this shitty reality of 9-5.
i sometimes wonder if the thoughts i'm having can't be pinned down by words. what if there is no distinct word that exists to fulfill a meaning? how much truth and understanding are we losing out on by language barriers alone? what if there is a whole entire scope of reality that we have no way to comprehend, simply because we don't have the words? THOSE are the things i want to write about. to be ABLE to write about. i want to find those words. the ones that we don't have.
but for now, music does the job.
-----
and the cycle repeats itself. every single time, it never fails. i get so out of the school and "people i know" element and absolutely love it. then i get back to real life and loathe my very existence in it. i KNOW i need the degree, i KNOW i need the schooling, i KNOW i'm not actually going to drop out... but it's so easy. it's right there. if i wanted to, i could reach out and grab it so easily. and i want it SO FUCKING BAD.
i just can't even begin to explain the pure joy that i feel when i'm in this element of band related groups of people. it illuminates something within me and i know it's where i belong. i know deep deep down in the very essence of my soul, that i belong amongst these people. because they make me want to cry tears of joy every single minute i'm with them. i am overflowing with it; with love, respect, awe, and everything else happy and perfect. and i know it's not like that all the time. but i know i could live it. i know it. and i want it so bad. but now i'm back here, home alone, trying so hard to process everything that has happened in the past twenty four hours and there's but one face that i absolutely can't get out of my head. and i hate being back here. back in this shitty reality of 9-5.
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