8:18 a.m. - 2024-12-31
'Round and round.
So 33 years ago, I was killing time in Paris. It sounds so adventurous now. We were on our first European tour, the second leg, having switched out drummers as if we were some sort of major label act who just hired session musicians.
(I mean, to be fair, most of my time in Agent 86 felt like that: the constant swapping out of drummers, occasional lead guitar players, and the almost seasonal relocation to "greener" pastures.)
The documentation of the time is minimal - I was a poor punk rock girl with only so much money for film, (though I was a prolific photographer at the time) and my journals are filled with gut-instinct stuff, and long diatribes about perceived injustices, pseudo-anthropological observations, and lust-filled longing. Which apparently was what my 25-year-old self was consumed by.
There are interesting bits in the journal though, and every year around this time I always like to crack that first Euro-tour journal out and compare and contrast - to see if any of it makes more, or different sense.
What stands out this year to me is how much I seemed to be soaking up the cultural norms of the places we were in, and trying to contextualize it all.
That is of course if one considers missives like:
"New Year's in Amsterdam - do have to remember the pretty buildings (along the canals), the hash "menus", the glazed look in people's eyes (admittedly probably mostly tourists), the huge amount of fireworks, literally pouring from windows and rooftops into the streets, and the very comfortable hotel (the last comfortable bed I've sleep on, in fact).
But the town is dirty, the people are trashed. No old people around. Our car was broken into and ransacked, thankfully nothing was inside to be taken. Bogus."
It's almost adorable that I found so much logic in what I was saying, and that bit is followed by a long rambling explanation on nationalism that came from a conversation at a party in Paris. Having just been to newly-independant Slovenia and just learned about the history in Yugoslavia over the previous month after travelling with Adam our Croat tour manager in Italy, and then visiting and playing in Slovenia, I was realizing that much of Europe was not nearly as mutli-cultural as I had imagined.
Which of course reminds one of the Bordeaux punks lamenting about referring to British people as "Roast Beef" because the Brits called them "frogs".
Nativism is endemic to humans, and I know it now as a fact, but it's interesting to me to be able to read the scribblings of my 25 year old self and realizing that was me imprinting things that would shape my worldview for life.
Huh, once again, I have derailed what was gong to be a lighthearted look back at babyme, and instead got all in the weeds. Typical.
But, since it I 33 years later, and I'm now a divorced old punk rock lady with her second dog taking care of her 80-year old mom with dementia (as a team with my little brother) I seem to only be able to break things down in a weird, dark way.
I am, as ever, so thankful for this site still being here, to be able to click and read some of my more lucid thoughts to realize that I do mean well, and have honestly been trying to make sense of things for a long time.
Also, sure am seeing the ol
police helicopters int he air a lot. A LOT.
Sometimes green military ones. I worry about what this country is going to become in this second go-round with Tr*mp and am sad to have to finish my days waiting to die amid such a dystopian nightmare come to life.
Anyway, maybe more later. Supposed to go out with little brother, his roommate, and his ex-wife & her husband (yep, just as weird as it sounds, but this is Life now) later, but am already kind of dreading it.. Then mom's for new year's day and then back to the dentist on the 2nd - just a couple more visits to get the 2nd round of new front teeth.
Let's go 2025.
Oh, and 2024? A lot of time spent with Mom, as she declined into the dementia hole, but took a nice trip to Mt Vernon and Whidbey, made friends with the gang in the methadone truck on our morning walk, and finally crossed the finish line into working from home (though haven't transitioned that into something creative...yet); became a weird Tayvis fan? Am still drinking, but not as desperately (is that a thing?), Karen came up and we went to Green Day, which was super-fun. Am so thankful to still have her in my life. What else? Lots of little moments, but also health issues (2024 was the year of the teeth, 2023 it was Retina Year).
Ageing is such a conundrum: you finally get a handle on who you are, and what makes you happy, but all the wear and tear on your body finding it leaves you with less ability to really imagine more.
At least for me. I keep running across "content creators" who are doing what I, honestly wish I could have been doing these last 15 years. Traveling on the cheap, posting diary (vlog?) entries to make the cash to continue on. If only I didn't have such a hatred of my physical being and was willing to be on camera more, things would probably be different. Now, I see creators who resemble me (younger me, obviously) and I think, what the hell? Why could I not love myself enough to be confident?
This is the real question, yeah?
