NP: URT, it's alright (CD)

I've found that an almost sure tonic for those moments where I've hit the proverbial wall is listening to parts of my discography. Another seems to actually involve tonic as drink mixer, and/or cranberry juice, sake and beer. Followed by a strong need for coffee the morning after. On that note, I'll be right back...

Yesterday got worse before it got better, so I looked to existing supplies before heading out to Metro. I also, on a complete whim, bought "Radioactive" from The Firm for 99 cents, and in typical eighties-fan fashion, that set a positive trajectory for the rest of the evening. It'll be joining the Coz Sings! set immediately.

I was planning on being all dark and anti-social at the show, but seeing Val, over for a spell from Italy, changed that mood quickly. Of course, I'm not the most talkative of sorts in the context of the big, loud rock, anyway, so I'm not entirely sure how you'd be able to tell the difference. Regal was a bit muddled, at least from the balcony, and I seem to have already hit my half-decade quota of one free drink from the bartender I know up there, so it was down to the main floor to mingle a bit and take in what EXO frontman Scott Tallarida described from the stage as their longest set ever. Good times.

And despite various conversations inevitably steering towards certain singers of past affiliation, said singer's EP still made it into the player this morning. Because my drumming on the record is a bigger net positive than the disappointment with the project, rent money notwithstanding. I had to explain that whole deal to one of the EXO guys, who had no idea what had transpired. Personally, the whole thing is way in the past at this point. The world has moved on, but only in fits and starts, and it's hard to stop dialog from going there in certain company, or under the aid of certain liquid refreshment.

Which ultimately led to the legendary poor spellers across the street at Wrigleysville Dogs. Chili cheese fries are the most beautiful of all pre-emptive hangover cures, and I was sorely tempted to start arguing politics and semantics with a drunken table or two at 2 in the morning.

More dreams this morning, but that's going to happen when you get up much earlier than usual from nature's call after a hard night. This one involved a small Caribbean island (I'm thinking Trinidad, due to the upcoming Fire match there) and a crazy plot to have a luxury hotel foot the bill for a fake wedding, while accidentally destroying part of the ecosystem.

Meanwhile, the stuff this is all supposed to be pushing out of my mind is still lingering, but lingering quietly. For someone who allegedly doesn't like to play games, I'm still thinking in terms of having overplayed my hand. Although I'm struggling with the causality of it all. The simple solution is that I hit a certain mental space, and it influenced some poorly considered actions. There are, of course, other interpretations, but with the prolonged absence of data to suggest otherwise, it gives me at least a temporary resolution.

As with everything else going on at the moment, and to gratuitously quote eighties prog-rock supergroup Asia, only time will tell.