Music and Lyrics

Does art imitate life or does life imitate art or does life imitate art imitating life? Take the following example:

A couple of weeks ago I went on a promising date with a musician. Since the date, this man went on vacation and has been back for a week. Due to his busy schedule, he cancelled a date last Thursday and is busy preparing for a show he is doing next week. Before our date, I accidentally had a conversation with him(which I forget most of) under the influence of a bedtime Ambien. I later apologized for whatever I said under the influence of the velvet hammer which this blog will prove is a term I've been for Ambien since 2003.

Tonight, I went to meditate and then decided to log onto myspace.com. I decided to look at the musician's personal page where I noticed that he changed his status to "in a relationship." I'm pretty sure he's not in a relationship with me so I'm not sure if this just means nothing or he has a girlfriend. Of course, I'm also pretty sure based on past experiences, he probably got back together with a girlfriend. Then, I decided to torture myself and look at his official music page where I then noticed he had uploaded a new song entitled "Velvet Hammer." Then I listened to the song surprised that it was purely an instrumental so the meaning of the song is still a pure mystery to me although I'm 100% sure I inspired the title. This is not the first time I've inspired a NYC band to write a song. Back in 1999, the late great Cogs wrote a song called Joanna about a story I told about an old roommate of mine. So, I don't know if this guy digs/dug me or perhaps I'm just a fleeting muse among yet another musician/artist. In any case, I then immediately called Todd and explained the situation to him. Since we are going to the BAFTA screening tomorrow night of Music and Lyrics, Todd immediately exclaimed, "This is just like Music and Lyrics." Then, Todd and I decided to actually write the lyrics to the music which Todd then recorded to the actual music but we will not post for the public until this situation is resolved. But, without the music, here are the lyrics to the song which was originally recorded by the musician who from this day forward will now be known by the nickname of "Music And Lyrics."

you tell me to get ready

that you're coming back

i cant sleep

you hit me like a velvet hammer

you say you're in a relationship

i dont know if it's me or someone else

but that's what it says on myspace and i cant sleep

i need to take the velvet hammer

(chorus)

like the little white pills

you put me in a dream

but now you're just a side effect my doctor warned me about

you promised me that every day would smell like christmas eve

but now i only taste regret

and all i'm left with is the velvet hammer

As you can see, there is a lot going on here and these are my questions.

1. Does this dude have a girlfriend?

2. Should I be flattered he wrote the song but didn't tell me about it?

3. Am I reading too much into all this because I'm getting stir crazy from this freezing cold weather?

With all this confusion combined with the mystery surrounding the death of Anna Nicole, I'm so wound up that I'm going to have to take a velvet hammer to make myself fall asleep.

Velvet Hammer Strikes Again

After a long vacation, I revisited my old friend the Velvet Hammer last night. To avoid any problems, I even made sure I was in bed after taking only 5 milligrams. Then the phone rang, and I made the terrible mistake of answering it without looking at the caller ID. As far as I can remember, here is a transcript of the conversation:

Caller: Hey, it's John.
NYCB: What do you want?
Caller: I want to apologize for being such a dick and not calling for you so long.
NYCB: Upfront, I think you should know that I took an Ambien about 15 minutes ago and that is the reason I am slurring and will not be making any sense throughout this conversation.
Caller: That's cool. I'm in bed too.
NYCB: You know it has been a really long time. I totally wrote you off. You have been a dick. My hair is brown.
Caller: So, what else is new?
NYCB: I bought a new dress. There's a lion on TV. Where are you going for the election?
Caller: What? Listen. I get it. You are mad because I've been such an asshole. I'm calling to apologize.
NYCB: Listen, I told you I took a sleeping pill. I can't have this conversation right now....
Caller: I miss you.

And, that is all I remember which sucks because I really needed that kind of ass-kissing call and due to the Ambien, I totally forget what happened after that moment and am living now in my own drug-induced cliffhanger. Do not answer the phone when taking Ambien.

Emmy Post Show

The past couple of days have been very surreal. After a Saturday night filled with liquor and lust, I attended a very long and bad matinee peformance of Fiddler on the Roof starring Rosie O'Donnell and Harvey Fierstein. Fiddler on the Roof has always been one of my least favorite musicals. I also am not a big fan of Schindler's List. In any case, afterwards, Todd and I had this bizarre photo shoot at Sardi's and I ate so much salt I probably look as bloated at Patricia Arquette did last night at in that ill-fitting white dress she wore to the Emmy's. After the photo shoot, I rushed home to watch the Emmy's and as I turned on the channel, thought I was hallucinating that Donald Trump was wearing overalls and singing the Green Acres theme song with Megan Mullally. I had to go to bed early so I only watched a short amount of post-Emmy coverage and I swear that Trump told that Guiliana the Panda woman on E! that he was going home to "make love" to Melania. Then, Patricia Arquette came in for an interview and she seemed either highly medicated or drunk and made a comment about how Hollywood people find TV people inferior. Then Sela Ward came on covered in feathers and was talking in an inflated Southern accent like she just downed a bottle of Wild Turkey. At this point my own Velvet Hammer kicked in and I'm not sure what is real or what I dreamed or if he's ever going to call me again.

The Men of 2003

This is a list of the best men I dated in 2003. These are the men who inspired me, drove me crazy, consumed me and pissed me off and, yet, made my year memorable. Due to all of their insane behavior, I've changed their names. I'm doing this NOT to protect the innocent, but to protect myself since most of the men I meet don't like to be written about in a public forum.

The Architect (January-present)
I ushered in the New Year with a date with The Architect. The date was started out extrememly promising. We met for a drink and then went to Corner Bistro for burgers. He even gave me best line of the year-
"I think you are smart, and talented and beautiful and you look like you really need to hear this. I don't know what is going to happen between us, but I do know that I want to be the person that every day tells you that you can do it and that you are amazing."
Well, the date ended up with me sleeping over at his pefectly clean apartment and getting my period and bleeding ALL over his new ultra-white Conran's sheets. Thinking this was a deal breaker, I expected to never to hear from him again. Unfortunately, I did. He sent me a photo of his penis in an email. He is also always inviting me to log on to Yahoo! Messenger to watch him jerk off. It turns out that he is a noncommittal pervert. Yet, he always tells me how hot I am, and gives me advice about my other men. And for this reason, although we do not date, we still "see" each other and communicate almost daily.

The Old Crush (February-present)
I really had the hots for The Old Crush in the early 90s in college. As I was in the midst of my unhealthy Architecht situation and famished from starting a new diet, The Old Crush called me out of the blue and told me to "come over." I had just taken an Ambien and was in that phase right before the Velvet Hammer hits when you are completely out of your mind. So, in my new black sexy nightgown, I went over to his Soho loft, ate a slice of pizza and passed out. The best night of the year with The Old Crush was at a bizarre karaoke bar where we ended up singing a duet of "How Deep is your Love." When we go out, I secretly like the way he pinches my ass when I get up to go to the ladies room. He still calls mes out of the blue, invites me over for some pizza and Ambien and then we'll both pass out and act awkward the next morning.

The Scope (May-July)
Although I dated The Scope the previous year, he had a resurgence as my weight loss really began to show. We hadn't seen each other in months after he went through a bout of depression and basically blew me off. The party was in his loft where he had a lot of "performers" playing music, showing films and DJing. Although he basically was with another girl at the party, he was flirting with me which reminded me of why I liked him in the first place. We ended up going on a couple of dates after this where we would see French movies, drink martinis and kiss on street corners. One night after a date in the meat packing district, the Scope invited himself over to my place. My place was a complete mess and I asked him to stand outside while I made sure there was no dirty underwear on the kitchen table. I came out to give him the "all clear," but he was gone. Panicked, like a flash and in my bare feet, I ran out the front door to see why he left so suddenly and unexpectedly. I couldn't find him and went back inside defeated. Turns out, he was sitting across the hall and witnessed my panic attack. Needless to say, I felt like a desperate fool and blew my summer romance with the Scope which is for the best because he's currently on vacation in Vietnam with his ex-wife and child.



The Director (September-November)
In order to sum up the Director situation, I will have to be brief because I don't want to say too much in order to not piss him off any more than I already have.
1. I should have been alarmed from the beginning that he only goes by one name.
2. He's a really good kisser and he smells really good and he's really charismatic.
3. His time is consumed by a supermodel and he never had time to spend with me.
4. His ex-girlfriend showed up on his doorstep and he dumped me via email to tell me this. When I got upset about how he handled the situation, he had the nerve to tell me I was "aggressive" and "dramatic."
5. I wrote about the situation in depth in this blog and he read it, he was very upset and made me take it down which I did because I still want him back in my life.
6. I still want him back.

The Music Man (November-present)
The Music Man is a very nice man, but extremely hard to read. I can't tell if he likes me or not, although he continues to call me and make plans. I bumped him up in my rotation in the midst of the Director fiasco. Also, he's bicoastal which makes me nervous because I wonder if he has a woman in LA. In early 2004, hes attending all these high-profile events (The Golden Globes, The Grammys, a party for Outkast) and although we discuss in-depth his social schedule and what he will be wearing to these events, he has not invited me to any of them and I'm starting to get paranoid. To his advantage, this game of "pursuit-withdrawal" is upping my interest.