The Miss E Of Worlds Most Hated (E's for Eerie, not Elated)

No, I haven't been hacked and yes I did just set everything to private. (Its 3 am so I'm too tired to delete 2,000 things.) I want to thank everyone who has showed me support and love over my time here. I truly appreciate it and hope you'll continue to chat with me on my myspace.

I have been thinking about leaving Buzznet for a long, long time now for a number of reasons. But I stayed to continue to support my friend Steve and his vision for his company. Steve is truly a great, fun, intellegent guy and I stayed mostly for him and also for the friends I've made amongst the Buzznet users.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and my time here at Buzznet has ended. I will no longer be posting photos, videos, or blogs here. No, I'm not going to another company or anything like that. This never was about money or exposure. (In fact, I'm leaving because I feel I've been over exposed and portrayed in an ill-light.) I'm just going back to doing what I've always done - talking to people on my myspace. And, even though its more coding work for me, I'm going back to updating my old website - devilmuse.com

Please remember what I've always said: no one - not me, not the "buzzalicious", not anyone of fame or even meager noteriety is better than you. Look up to someone for the right reasons - not who the know but who they are and what they've done with themselves. And never, ever, ever stop looking for yourself and celebrating who you are. I sincerely hope each and every one of you gets to your dream and far beyond it. Please take care of yourselves and your loved ones.

See you on the 'space!

- Miss E

Okay, okay. I know I've been AWOL. I've been sooooooo busy lately. I'm sorry. :(

So, I got a message from a young lady named Olivia on myspace with some questions about work and school but myspace won't let me message her back since she's not on my friends list. So, I'm writing this, hoping she'll see it and hoping that it'll help out some of you guys as well.

Her first question was "did you have any experience in the music industry before you went to college?" The answer is yes, but not in the field I wanted to go into. I was a DJ and then the Music/Broadcast director of my high school radio station and the Promotions Director of my friend's record label. This gave me some basic experience dealing with bands and other professionals in the industry but the flat reality of the situation was that I was the Promotions Director because I babysat for the head of our local rock radio station and never reached out to any other radio stations besides that one. My "job", such as it was, was mostly putting together press kits and putting up flyers for shows. My high school radio station had a broadcast area of about 3 feet and my show was listened to solely by my friends, if they could pick it up. As Music/Broadcast director, I was mostly sending press kits to record labels to get free CDs and cataloging what CDs we had. Because it was a high school club, we were more focused on meetings and fund raisers and not really imitating what a commercial radio station does. So I had a little experience but nothing that accurately reflected what real life at either a record label or radio station is like.

But that is the point of college. You don't have to have any experience in the field you've chosen before entering. It sure helps, I won't lie, but if you go to a good school and work hard then they should teach you all you need to know. The key is going to a good school - make sure you find the best program you can possibly attend. Try looking up the school you want to go to on MySpace and messaging kids who are juniors and seniors there. (Or close to completion if it isn't a 4 year school.) Ask them how they found the school. Did they learn a lot? Do they feel prepared for work in this field after graduation? Who are good professors? The worst that can happen is they don't help you out but hopefully someone will be nice and give you helpful feedback.

I do strongly encourage people to do whatever they can, as early as they can. Just street teaming for a label or helping local bands in your area haul amps and hawk tshirts really does translate in the long run. I really, really encourage you all to get involved in your local music scene - no matter how much it sucks. Getting to see what bands starting out go through, what goes on behind the scenes at a venue, etc can help give you some basic knowledge of what you're getting into. Plus, you never know if that crappy band playing your backyard will end up super successful by the time you graduate college.

Olivia also asked me about Tour Managing and if you want to TM, you pretty much HAVE to get involved with your local music scene now. Almost everyone I've talked to in the touring world started out selling tshirts for their sister's boyfriends cousin's friend's terrible band and moved on from there. Olivia is 18, which is pretty young. But then again, Jack Marin TMed for Panic!At the Disco at 17 because he was their friend and they trusted him. So, its possible. Its still a long shot, I'll tell you honestly, that you'll be TMing a band that big but its certainly possible to work for a smaller band you a friends with. The real restriction on age is your maturity and capability. If you can batten down the hatches and work without starting drama or crumbling under pressure then you should be fine. People may mistrust you and doubt your abilities but you just have to work that much harder. People will doubt you because you're a girl or because you're this race or that height or whatever. People will always find reasons to doubt you and try to detract from your talent. Don't listen to them. Just work to the best of your abilities and let what you can do speak for itself. Some people will come around. Some won't. Don't worry about them. Worry about doing your job.

However, Olivia, like some of you, lives on "a rock in the middle of the ocean with no source of music but the internet." If this is true and there reeeeeeeally isn't a local music scene or one close enough that you can get to it, just wait it out. You don't have to do anything before college. It really helps but, like I said above, if you're planning on going to school, they should train you in everything you need to know. When you go away to school, try to get involved in the scene then. But your best bet for securing a job and some connections that can help you is interning. Intern, intern, intern, intern. And don't just take whatever your school throws at you. If your school doesn't have connections to the studios/labels/etc that you want to work for, try sending a letter to these places yourself. Again, the worst they can say is no.

And the last question she asked was how to convince her father to let her pursue this career, which he thinks is nothing but drugs and groupies. Please! That is so 1980s! The best thing you all can do to convince your parents of anything is be mature. Get good grades in school, don't get into trouble, don't scream at them when you disagree... treat your parents like adults and maybe they'll start treating you like one. Once they see you are an educated, mature, responsible person than maybe they'll give a little.

Also, do your homework - not just in school. Get to know the industry you're going into as much as you can now. Read Everything You Need To Know About The Music Business by Donald S Passman. I recommend this every time because its the best book, written in simple language, about the industry there is. From there, go to your local bookstore and pick up other books about the field that interests you. Subscribe to Billboards email list. (A magazine subscription is $300 but the email will give you some daily topics that are happening in the industry.) Don't just read AP. If you're interested in studio engineering, pick up Mix magazine too. If you want to TM, Live Sound. Go to your local Barnes N Nobles (or whatever) and look through the music section for the industry-targeted magazines. After all this, you may find out you hate the industry and don't want to do it after all.

Then, armed with your new knowledge, ask your parents for a serious conversation. Explain to them what you've learned and why you want to work in the industry. Tell them how the industry works, from labels to publishing to recording to touring to radio, etc. Let them see how serious and studious you are about this business. And explain to them that if this industry was just drugs and whores, we wouldn't be able to hold down a multibillion dollar machine that employs hundreds of thousands of people and is the driving force for culture. As much as this is the "entertainment industry", there is nothing entertaining about putting millions of dollars into a project that may or may not succeed based on the whim of a fickle public. Jim Morrision may have been able to drink and do drugs until he was, literally, blue in the face but I'm sure his management and label owners had a liiiiiiiiiiittle more on their plates than cocaine. (This isn't to say the music industry is clean and sober - far from it. But your local high school probably has the same amount of drug use or higher than the industry. And if you leave musicians out of this equation, we probably only have grade school level drug use. However, you probably don't need to mention to your parents that Miss E said drugs are rampant in schools today. They'll just yank you out of school all together.)

At the end of the day, your parents have to trust and respect you. But you have to earn this. Like I said above, you gotta prove to them you're not just their baby who needs  them to change their diapers. You have to prove you're grown up, you're smart, you're motivated, and you know what the hell you're talking about. This *should* work on 90% of parents.

So, Olivia, I really hope you read this and it answers your questions and concerns. Remember, there are people that quit their graphic design job and got into the music industry at 35 with NO experience or connections or anything who just up and went to school, got and internship, and pushed on. (Jonathon Rinella) There are people who never went to school, who just started working with their band at 16 in their parents basement and eventually became a multi-grammy winning mixer. (Ben Grosse and Jay Baumgardner.) There are people who started out as mail room workers at a big record label and are now the president. (Points to whomever knows who this is.) People come from all walks of life. Its all luck, timing, talent. Luck and timing will get you a gig. Talent will let you keep it.

Best of luck to you all.

- Miss E

No spoilers about the new book so you can read this if you haven't read it yet. And OMG, PLEASE read it because I can't actually deal with being the only person I know who finished it. I'll post a journal to discuss it later but I can't deal with that right now.

"You look like you've been up all night, freebasing Harry Potter." - Eric.

It's true. I look like shit. I've been bawling my eyes out for hours. I haven't slept yet. I'm distraught and delirious and I've taken to clutching my wand or my book and bursting into tears every 20 minutes or so. I snivled to a stop before we went to go see Suspiria in the Hollywood Forever Cemetary but I think its because I'm so bone tired from not having slept in 48 hours and running my emotions ragged reading that I just can't cry anymore. I'm sure I'll freak out again tomorrow.

But let me go back, to 6pm yesterday and a lifetime ago. I stood in the bright, warm sunlight a top the parking structure beside Barnes and Noble, happily waiting to get my wristband in the balmy air. Steve, from tha B-net, caved to my relentless pestering and consented to accompany me on my nerdly journey of giggling anticipation. We nipped a quick bite to eat before ducking in to Barnes and Noble to do all the activities.

I made a choice to come do the big events with the crowd because I'd had so much fun the last book release. I was literally chosen out of all the people who were "sorted" to be the "champion" for Gryffindork (in all my Slytherin stuff, mind you) and won the trivia tournament and a broom and tons of other nonsense. Steve will back me up when I say that, as we were waiting in line, the woman who organized the whole event caught sight of me and said "hey! You're the Slytherin that won last time!"

I am, in fact, Queen Nerd of Nerd Town.

I played in a few trivia challenges but it wasn't as good of a shindig as last time. We went to line up at 10 and I spent the intervening time regailing Steve with stories about high school Ninja attacks and the life and times of Harry Potter. He was a trooper and stayed with me until 1am when, clutching my book in joy, I raced home to begin it.

However, the lovely gentlemen from 2*Sweet were spending the night and my desire to hole up in my room and read was thwarted by their desires to be all around rad dudes and just hang out. We chatted until about 2:30 at which point some of us retired to watch the Harry Potter movies while everyone else slept. While it was awesome to be so revered for my utter nerddom and to have company in Harry Potter love, it slowed my reading immensely. The last book, I finished in 5 hours. This one took about 7. I drifted off to sleep for about 15 minutes but I dragged myself upright and kept on reading. Matt had passed out on my floor but woke up and relocated to the living room, offering me full ability to totally flip out alone and undisturbed.

And I did. I punched the book so hard and so frequently that I have a giant bruise across my knuckles and it hurts to close my fist (or type so feel loved). I thwaped it soundly with my wand like it might rearrange the words. I screamed. I cried. I yelled "NO NO NO NO NO!" into my pillows so as not to wake my slumbering household. And when I got to the end, I put it down and bawled my fucking eyes out. When everyone came in to check on me at 10am, I was pretty much a mess.

But even with an additional 2 hours on my normal reading time, plus a late start, plus the time difference to the east coast and Europe, none of my friends had finished it. So I was left to agonize on my own.

Jeffree, in his eternal awesomeness, treated me to Pinkberry with the 2*Sweet guys before they left for SF. He returned me to the apartment and bade me to sleep but I was too overwrought to just pass out. And with my best friend's birthday weekend upon me, I had no time to sleep. Instead, I wiped off all the traces of my tears and headed over to my two biffles. I tried not to bawl too hard and instead curled up on the couch to watch mobster movies before heading to the cemetary.

I am so exhausted that I haven't even processed this is the last book. It haven't even processed the deaths of the characters yet, not really. But the last book? There will be no more book releases, with Marauders Maps of Barnes and Noble and little kids adorably dressed like Harry, Harry, and Harry. No new tales to await, no feverish debates over what will happpen next, no arguing for my dearly beloved Prince, who I will always stand by. I honestly feel like I've lost a friend. These books have been a huge part of my life for years. Its awful. Its truly, truly awful.

The book was grand and I loved it. I'm happy to have it and have everything be complete. But I can honestly say that it is so depressing just to know that the series is finally done. As totally nerdy and lame as it is, they are books that mean a lot to me and that I love. When I wake up tomorrow and truly process that its over, I'm going to be bawling all over again. I'm sure some of you feel the same so lets have a moment of silence for the end of a truly beautiful thing. Today was the end of an era.

In Memoriam,
   Miss E (Death Eater, Slytherin, and Proud Nerd-to-the-Hilt)

Wow.

Just.

Wow.

So, I've done a lot of cool things this past week. I got to see Kat Von D's new shop, High Voltage, which is stunning. I got to attend a lovely little soiree at Tarina Tarintino's shop on Melrose. I've done some fun things this week, like seeing A Skylit Drive at the Whiskey and the Spazmatics at the Dragonfly (where Jeffree and I giggled in some glee at seeing Chance from 'I love New York' waiting at valet). I did some lazy things this week. I redesigned my myspace and several other people's. I cheered for my friend Lacey on the premier of the Rock of Love. I even got to see the new Die Hard, which OOOOOOWNED. I got some work done, be it conference calls to labels or to consumer affairs (don't ask). And I even got to do one thing that was important to me, which was go to the premier of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix with Steve from Buzznizzle. (It rocked, btw. Much better than the last two.)

Now that I've gotten the interesting stuff that I'm supposed to tell you about so I seem cool and connected and therefore able to soapbox with impunity out of the way, let me tell you about the one thing that I did this week that you ALL should do - go see Sicko by Michael Moore. Like all of his movies, it is compelling in the simplicity of its question - why doesn't America care for its populace like the rest of the Western World? We are the ONLY nation that doesn't provide universal health care to its citizens. EL SALVADOR has better health care than us. I'm not kidding. Guantanamo Bay has free health care. Let's all go there. I'm sure I can get us all arrested. Mooning the White House is indecent exposure + treason, right? Hey, if it'll get me that surgery on my jaw I need, I'm down. I'll pull a full moon in the Rose Garden.

But please, please, please, PLEASE don't JUST see the movie - do something about the issues it raises! Bitching that Americans have atrocious health care and we should all move to France is all well and good but that isn't going to solve our national health care crisis. I'm going to provide a few links to really, really simple stuff you can do like signing petitions and writing your congressmen. But it is ultimately up to you to fight for change. If you are of age, EDUCATE YOURSELF AND VOTE! I cannot stress enough that voting is our most crucial right and our primary way of changing the system. If you are not of age, educate yourself anyway and go work for a campaign. You don't have to be 18 to try and help the candidate you feel would do the best job get into office. Or, if you are passionate about an issue, research charities, voter's groups, lobbies, etc that campaign for that issue and find out how you can contribute. I can't tell you all the resources but they are LEGION and a little Googling goes a long way. If you are not an American citizen, I encourage you to research candidates and issues in your country and do your best to help out. Taking ten minutes a week to sign some petitions and do some action alerts sent by the charities of your choice is a very, very simple way to begin to make a difference. I cannot stress enough that it is our own inaction and laziness that allows corruption to spread unchecked. No matter what your age, your country of origin, your economic status, your gender, your race, your sexuality, no matter what - we are all human and every single one of us can make a difference. No one person can change the world, not Hitler nor Ghandi. It is people working together - for good or evil - that change the world. Please, please, please educate yourselves and take time to begin to make a difference.

Here are just a few links that I found through some quick Googling of health care issues. This literally took me five minutes, that's how easy it is to find resources for change. Again, Google is your friend. If you have a cause you believe in, type it into Google and hit search. The resources you will find will amaze you. But don't just take my word on this or any other issue. GET EDUCATED AND MAKE YOUR OWN DECISIONS! If you disagree with me on this or any other issue, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! Don't just write blogs on Buzznet calling me a bitch. That doesn't do anything. Make something of yourself, show real support for the things you believe in, build a career, and show me up. Then, with the government on your side and that high paying job you can really send those hit men after me you keep threatening me with. I don't know how many ways I can say this - DO SOMETHING IMPORTANT. Don't do it for me. Do it for you, for the people you love, and for the country you live in. I don't care if you love me, if you hate me, or if you're indifferent. There are important issues in the world and we all need to do our part. Hopefully, we can all agree on that.

http://www.michaelmoore.com/sicko/what-can-i-do/petitions/pnum649.php  Urge the government to extend Medicare coverage.

http://www.michaelmoore.com/sicko/what-can-i-do/petitions/pnum651.php Help me (and the rest of California) get decent Healthcare

http://www.amsa.org/uhc/uhcaction.cfm Ideas on how to spread the word and show support for American Universal Health Care

http://www.capwiz.com/ams/home/ A website that provides health care-related action initiatives by zip code.

http://www.uhcan.org/joomla/ Information and action alerts on US Health Care

http://www.aflcio.org/issues/healthcare/ Health Care information from American Union Workers

http://www.familiesusa.org/ FamiliesUSA's info on Health Care across the nation

Please be aware that I include spoilers about the contents of this documentary. However, I do not reveal very much and it is all information YOU NEED TO KNOW!

Transformers, a new documentary film by director Michael Bay, offers a compelling and hard hitting look into the robot menace our government is trying to keep from us. Michael is best known for his earlier documentary works; The Rock (about prison jailbreaks) and Bad Boys 1 and 2 (about police brutality and ineptitude). His new piece of work eclipses even those bold pictures.

Several thousand years ago, several pieces of alien technology from the planet Cybertron crash-landed in the Artic circle. These items were uncovered by an exploratory team during the Hoover administration and then covered up by our very government. The Hoover dam was built to keep these items a secret – from other governments and especially from the very aliens that created this technology. However, the aliens have discovered the whereabouts of their items and Michael Bay has discovered the existence of this whole conspiracy! In his film (in theaters now), he offers a direct look at these creatures and the shadowy government group, Sector Seven, that is charged with hiding them from the public.

According to the film, these robots can copy the forms of human machines and thus may be hiding in plain sight. The film’s motto – More Than Meets The Eye – is a chilling reminder that the very laptop I am writing this on may be plotting to overthrow, enslave, or even decimate the human race. Examine your machines carefully. If they begin acting strange – playing apropos songs during pivotal moments, relocating around your house with no apparent help, destroying other robots in their vicinity, or terminating your pooch for peeing on them – react accordingly. Identifying early signs of the robot uprising could save you and your loved ones.

Transformers follows several key characters through the film. Through the eyes of Captain Lennox, we see the deadly military ability that these creatures wield. The US government allowed Michael Bay’s cameras inside US Airforce bases in Qatar and, a first in cinema history, deep inside the strategy center of the Pentagon. There, audiences encounter Maggie Madsen, an Australian and recent graduate who has been drafted by the US government to help with a series of hackings into our government’s top secret computer network. This is where the film truly gets scary. The firepower these machines wield is nothing compared to their abilities when it comes to manipulating other computer systems. Like its sister documentary, Independence Day, this movie clearly shows that aliens have all installed Windows AND Macintosh operating systems on their spaceships and are clearly working out how to install those pesky shell scripts and configure their systems for Linux as well. (Good to know that even robot aliens can’t easily configure Linux!) In a chilling sequence, all of Earth’s communications were taken offline by the alien menace. I, myself, experienced this phenomenon going to Buzznet one afternoon. I saw the black screen with the white text – Buzznet will be back shortly – and knew the alien invasion had begun!

But nothing was more disturbing then the horrible tale of Sam Witwicky. He was deceived by these robots and tricked into buying his first “car”. Instead of owning what he hoped would be a rolling lair to de-virginize local school girls, he instead found himself in the clutches of the robot menace! But when Sam, an upstanding American citizen of strong moral character alerted authorities to his (and our) crisis, was there a swift response to defend our nation? No! Instead, authorities bungled and mishandled the information, causing them to make a series of misguided arrests including Sam himself, as well as his family and even their dog. The government raided the Witwicky home, causing thousands of dollars in damages, then proceeded to break every rule of proper conduct by taking the Witwickys to a secret base without trial or attorney counsel! Is the right to habeas corpus nonexistent?

The government operatives in question, the mysterious ‘Sector Seven’, operate above the law and independent of the Justice Department. There are no checks on their power and the very existence of this branch of government is an affront to the very values this country was founded upon! We function on a system of checks and balances. No governmental body is above the law – yet Sector Seven has the authority to kidnap and torture innocent civilians in the name of our great country!

But even the humanitarian outrages of our government that are brought to light in this documentary do not touch the sheer horror audiences feel upon seeing the alien technology in use. Michael Bay’s cameras have the fortune to capture several battles between the US military and the alien forces. Though we seem to have found ways to destroy the robots, their defenses are strong and a true show of force by these robots may well overwhelm our military. We are already stretched thin with our engagement in the Middle East. Are we truly prepared to face the mounting Cybertronian threat?

I encouraged everyone to see this chilling documentary. We must all educate ourselves and insist that our government take this information seriously. Programs must be created to educate the public about how to cope with invasion by alien forces. Critical procedures like hotwiring your computer monitor to a short wave radio and using the contraption to broadcast morse code through the 4 foot thick walls of the Hoover Dam on a secure government channel to authorize airstrikes as necessary MUST be taught in American schools! Also, every American should be equipped with EMPs (electromagnetic pulse weapons which neutralize all electronics within its area of effect) which, for some illogical reason, the US military didn’t think of using and instead emptied countless rounds of bullets to little effect into each robot. Though the website affiliated with the film offers little in ways of dealing with the robot menace, I would urge each of you to see the film then write to your Congressmen as well as the President, Vice President, Secretary of Defense, and any media persons you think may broadcast about the contents of this film. Truly, Transformers may prove to be the most important documentary of our time and director Michael Bay should be applauded for his brave, brave picture!

Hopefully, in this upcoming week, I will have the opportunity to see the new comedy by Michael Moore entitled Sicko about a fictional country in which no one had proper health care and large corporations were allowed by the government to profit of the suffering of its populace. Its sure to be a laugh riot!

Why do we do this to ourselves every summer?

I found myself asking this question to Angie GoGo and Sarah Dope (and everyone in a three car radius who could hear me yelling) as we pulled into the parking lot for the Pomona Warped Tour date. Angie and I had been out the night before at the pre-party so I had already seen Bad Religion play a longer set in a more intimate setting than I would at the behemoth outdoor festival. Why the HELL was I willing to brave the crowds, the heat, the dust, the inevitable hassle with the list, the fights, the sun… I can go on and believe me I did… to see them again?

I have my days where I can be a downer and Pomona was fast panning out to be one of them. Of course there was a hassle with the list but after a phone call, Angie and I had jolly purple passes that meant we could go just about anywhere. Where we went was straight for the shade of Bleed the Dream’s merch tent and the company of our friends. I fell into a beach chair and refused to be budged. Why am I doing this? I thought, stoically refusing to have any sort of fun at all. I refused to crack a smile at Keith’s silly antics. I scowled greatly at the hugs from Dave. I furrowed my brow at Angela’s suggestion that we walk around and see who else was there. I pouted mightily at the plethora of good friends we ran into and scorned all the loving hugs I received.

I was hot. I was thirsty. I was cranky. I was too old for this shit. I was NOT going to have any fun.

I moped my way through the morning sets, trailing after Sarah Dope, who was taking photos for Alternative Press. I had to put on an extra burst of moping around 2 because I’d actually gotten giddy and skipped around tent city, excitedly gathering stickers (oh weird) and chatting with all the people on the tour – new friends and old. Warped Tour is like a giant family and I’d be DAMNED if I wasn’t going to be the surly teenager of that family.

I will not have fun today, I told myself. It’s hot and I’m cranky and the lemonade slushies are super tasty… DAMNIT! I need to be more negative. THIS SLUSHIE IS NOT SLUSHIE ENOUGH! (Yes, I did actually say that.)

I had a giggle fit that I had to deny when I found out that Street Drum Corps would be playing at 4:20 at the Skullcandy tent, every single day, all tour. I always make a point to go see the SDC guys as frequently as possible but this time, damnit, I was not going to enjoy the spectacle of Adam slamming a beer keg with a lead pipe, Frankie beating the cymbals and screaming like a Maori tribesman gone berserk, or Bobby playing the Theremin in the midst of all the chaos. I certainly did not enjoy shaking my booty to the tunes with all my friends and if anyone said any different, I’d say they were a liar.

The hottest part of the day was over so I switched my whining from “its too damn hot” to “I’m so damn hungry.” To my dismay, we got food quickly and it tasted good. There was even an abundance of napkins and condiments and the food was less that $10. Man, was I pissed. Sarah Dope bought me another lemonade slushie for us to share before she disappeared off to shoot Killswitch Engage. I had a glorious bit of storming around and complaining that we couldn’t find her before my phone beeped and there was a text telling us where to meet her. I tried a new tactic of complaining that my feet hurt but I was once again foiled as we went to go sit in the Takeover Records tent. With shade, water, a chair, a full belly, and friends, I was out of things to whine about so I got up to go wander and see other friends… and whine to them. Everyone was having such a damn good time that I couldn’t get anyone to commiserate with me. Angie and Sarah caught me singing loudly to Bad Religion (because I couldn’t hear them over the crowd, I shouted over Greg’s amplified vocals) and dancing around with Jamie and JP. I hurriedly suggested that we go backstage, lamenting that my phone was going to die.

We hopped up on the Takeover RV, where I was given an outlet to charge my phone and a bottle of water for my thirst. I spent the next several hours running around the bus lot, riding Mark’s bike, chatting with my friends, eating, playing video games, meeting new friends, and generally NOT HAVING ANY FUN AT ALL!

It took us until midnight to finally say goodbye to everyone and leave. I took my friend Emily, who is working at Music Saves Lives this year, home with me for hangs. We were up early to go to the Ventura date, which had me complaining. Since it was so early, I got to park backstage and not pay for parking, skip all the traffic that made everyone else four hours late, hang out with everyone I’d met the night before while they were setting up, help out with the various booths, get a filling breakfast, watch my friends in Phathom play, get coated in sunscreen by my new husband, and relax in the shade of Bleed the Dream’s tent – all before noon! My miserable position – it baffles you, no?

As I mentioned, all three contingents of my friends were stuck in traffic. Elena had my passes, Sarah and Angie were my company, and Jeffree was just good fun in general. All of them, not here. I was here, out in the sun (which wasn’t as scorching as the day before) and the heat (which was muted by the pleasant ocean breeze) and the dust (which was totally nonexistent) and the throngs of screaming kids (who weren’t screaming but instead chillaxing and holding up some good conversation to keep me entertained while introducing me to their friends so I met more people and on and on.)

I didn’t want to have fun. I didn’t want to make new friends. I wanted my friends and a cool, air conditioned area to relax in. But Warped Tour was able, once again, to disappoint my ability to be disappointed in the day. Right as I was getting really antsy, everyone arrived, took me to see Street Drum Corps and Bleed the Dream, then we headed backstage to the Bleed the Dream RV. Everyone was there and Whizzle had a barbecue alight. Even I could not find anything to complain about as plates and plates of hot dogs and turkey burgers and barbecue chicken and corn grilled to perfection were brought inside the RV. Keith (aka Keither Sutherland aka Keith Ledger) and I sat up front and talked before we were overrun by friends. Street Drum Corps (who had played a smoking set with the help of Shannon Leto of 30 Seconds to Mars) showed up with Tomo and Vickie. Emily ambled along to get her bag from my car then returned to hang out. Whizzle kept the food coming as more and more people showed up.

The best was Sarah Dope’s friend Zilch who was working for the freak show. We sat around talking about sideshows for quite some time before heading off to break down the freak show that is on the tour this year. I got to help out and in my zone of carrying gear and slitting zip cords and sweating so hard I thought I was going to pass out I realized that I had fun. Despite myself, despite bitching and moaning and screaming and being a pain in the ass the whole time, I had fun. I couldn’t help it. That’s why we do this every year. Because the sun and the heat and the dust all sucks but you can’t help but enjoy yourself on Warped Tour – even when you’re trying your best to be miserable. It’s a family. It’s just a good time. I realized it just in time to enjoy the last few hours of Warped Tour without trying to stop myself from having a good time and admitting it. I got to kiss all of my friends goodbye and leave far too soon.

So go to the tour. Yes, its hot and there are a lot of people. But you will have fun. Its not about the bands that are playing – it about the environment and how unique and welcoming it is. Bands don’t go sit out in their merch booths on other tours, The people who work other tours aren’t friendly and silly. Warped is a special tour with a special place in my heart – even when I try to harden my heart against it. That’s why I do it every summer – because at the end of the day, you’re dirty and sunburned but you’ve had the best time of your life.

It also must be noted that I got to see Steve and Karen and stopped being a pretentious sulky prat long enough to give hugs to my two favorite buzznet staffers. Go tell them hi and thank them for the tireless work they do for all of us here on Buzznet. Thanks, you guys!

I cannot even express how excited I am! My faaaaaaaaaavorite author ever is a man named Hart D. Fisher. He CHANGED my life. When I was..... maybe about 14, I picked up his book 'Poems for the Dead'. I originally intended to give it to my boyfriend at the time for Christmas but I bought it a few months in advance and ended up forgetting I ever bought it. (I gave him a replica sword and a book about witch hunting in Europe instead, if you're wondering.) I found 'Poems for the Dead' still in its plastic wrapping, smelling of Hot Topic, buried in a pile of semi-clean laundry and thought 'eh, I need something to read...'

It changed my life. My actual, entire life. If you look on the networking website I won't mention, under my heroes, he is the first one mentioned. I stayed up all night and read this book then I read it again then I wrote down one of his poems in my math notebook (which I still ahve to this day and is my prized possession) then I went INSANE. Honest to god insane. I started writing poem after poem after poem after poem after poem after poem after poem after poem... I didn't stop. For years. YEARS. The word vomit... the notebooks and notebooks I filled with twisted words and the emotions that ruled me as a child.

I cannot even explain it. But this man changed my life. Changed it. Poems for the Dead and Still Dead ruled my life and my pen for over a decade. When Poems for the Dead went out of print and I lost my copy, my ex boyfriend crawled every bookstore and website he could find until he finally turned up a battered copy in a used bookstore in Holland. He gave me the best present I have ever recieved - that copy of Poems for the Dead, Still Dead (which I didn't know existed), and a signed copy of Jeffrey Dahmer vs Jesus Christ printed with Hart's blood. It was the most thoughtful present I have ever recieved. It showed how well he knew me. (I gave him signed Pantera CDs and a comic book on the career of Pantera.)

Opening up my inbox, I was like "oh god, another random email..." Emails from random guys are usually "ur so hot i want ur butthole" or "check out my crappy band." When I got to the end and saw "Hart D. Fisher", I started screaming. I got out my notebook and reread that poem I copied down. It's called 'Candyland' and its in Poems for the Dead.

I'm just... I dunno. Shocked. Stoked. Speechless. He's my actual, actual hero and changed the entire course of my life. That feels pretty fucking cool.

www.boneyarpress.net
www.crimepaysinc.com
www.cpihomevideo.com

Now I need to shower because I'm way late.

I've barely been online. My parents got here Saturday. By Sunday, my mom had hurt her back and we spent most of their visit going to and from the chiropractor and the hotel. It was a bummout. But walking around West Hollywood, which is the gay district, with my muslim father was a laugh riot.

I'm lucky to have my parents. My Dad, despite cultural differences, is really accepting and both my parents are eternally supportive. My best friend said he envied me for my parents and I agree. I envy myself. We fought A LOT when I was a kid but we came through it okay. They are the only family by blood I have. The rest of my family, well, they are my family by choice.

Some of my family is here now. Marshall and Dawn came down from SF to see me after Way Too Long. Jeffree missed Marshall by seven minutes. He left for the airport and Marshall arrived. After a nap, we began Goth Weekend 2007. Das Bunker tonight, VNV tomorrow, Puppy sunday...

I forgot I hate goth clubs.

There was a time when Blue, which is now Element, was home. And before that, my beloved, gutted Manray. There was a time when I loved this scene. But now, even though Bunker is playing more EBM and less shitty PowerNoise, this is not home. These people... I look around and see no familliar faces. No kindred. I don't know what I am. I was never fully goth or fully metal but now... now I really can't claim a piece of any subculture. I can't rep goth, despite my floor length lace...oh I like this song. Must dance.

Gave up after half a song... god, people here can't dance. Its no fun when every one just two steps. You'll never hear me say I'm the best at anything, but goddamnit, I can dance. Even in stilletto heels I've never worn before, I can dance cicles around... oh, thanks! Someone just came up and told me they think I'm a wonderful dancer! See? I have some talents. A big mouth and fast feet.

Oh, look, they lowered the light ring. It looks like a UFO built in the 1970s. Eric just joined us. He says this place looks like an AV banquet.

I feel like I've lost a home or maybe a part of myself. I used to love these clubs. Eric wants to jump someone and steal money for drinks. Now, I don't condone violence but with the recent spate of shootings and stabbing around LA clubs, maybe this is a new trend and we're being impolite by not mugging other patrons. Possibly, I'm out of touch. Possibly, I hate this shitty suicide commando song.

This is all just setup to capture the best thing that happened tonight. As we were walking out of my apartment, Marshall stopped dead and stared with a befuddled expression. "What?" I asked, wondering what he was looking at.

"Is... it that a Nimbus 2000?" he asked incredulously, jerking his head at my replica broom I won doing Harry Potter trivia at the last book release and had to pull out to sweep the kitchen since Jeffree and I don't own a real broom.

"Yes. Yes it is," I said.

"Oh. Wow, sucks that I know that," said he.

This amused me.

I think we're going to leave. We're all bummed on this joint. Maybe... maybe that is truly goth - being so depressed you have to jet.

It also must be noted, this club is in Compton. Here's hoping I don't get shot on the way back to my car. I always wanted to die with my boots on, but not these boots. I meant my Docs.

Here's hoping we all find home somehow.

I was going to write a really long, pointless blog about my weekend with lots of linkage to my friends bands for you to check out but half way through writing it, my computer had 'epic fail issues' as our tech put it and freaked out. Now I am only going to write a medium length pointless blog about my weekend with fewer links than originally anticipated. The point? Check out my friend's bands because they are reeeeeeeeally good. Case in point: Julien K.

Friday, Jeffree and I went to see Julien K . For some reason, I got it into my crazy head that they were John Lennon's son's crappy indie project and refused to listen to them. But I found out last week at the Lover's Revolt show that not only were they a reeeeeally good electroindustrial band but my good friend Bones is the drummer! I've been listening to the songs on their page all week so I was amped for the show.

I've been traveling so much so I haven't really had time to get out on the strip much. So it was good to run into old friends like Tara Ivy (who is in the new Manson video!) and Ron from Opiate For The Masses. Jeffree got to run into old friends too but I missed the name of their band and thus can't provide a link so poopie to that. But anyway, we all stood around and chatted until Julien K took the stage. Now, I knew that Ryan and Amir from Orgy were in the band but what I didn't know was the keyboardist was none other than my friend Brando. So, with 4 out of 4 of the dudes in the band being a friend on some level, I was majorly amped to watch them. They were REEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY good. Like, new favorite band, good.

After they were done, we all hung out together (and I got a disgustingly sweaty hug from Bones) to watch Horse the Band. This is one of Jeffree's favorite bands and, while that style of hardcore is not my jam, they put on a damn good show. They had giant trees as their back drop and a small forest of stuffed animals on stage with them. (My favorite was the fox on the keyboard.) And their in-between song banter was hilarious. "We're going to play another song now. There is an 80 percent chance it will be 'Jani's got a gun' by Aerosmith." (It wasn't.) there was even a dude in a bear costume.

However, during the madness, my friend Taylor from Triggerpoint called and pleaded with us to come hang out with him at the Viper Room. Now, the Viper Room ruled when it was co-owned by Johnny Depp but when it got taken away and the staff quit, it kind of floundered for a bit and everyone stopped going. I have been to the Viper maybe 3 times in the past 2 years and that was always to support friends. So we went and got shakes at Hustler (note: a Ron Jeremy with added coconut milk is the bomb shit) and met up with Taywal and his friends. We found out that Jeffree knows the door guy, who now does shows at the Viper, and the bar guy, who used to be in My Ruin. So we actually have a reason to go more now.

We were escorted inside and went to hang out in the tiny downstairs bar. And it was really fun! I happily shoved ice down Taylor's jeans, ruining his ability to mack girls for .02 seconds, then chatted nerd stuff with El when the rest of Triggerpoint arrived. Jeffree called Kat Von D, who has a new show that will air soon and a new tattoo shop in LA, to come hang out. I was a little nervous because I was once told what a raging bitch she was. But I learned that the people that think she is a bitch because they either a) don't understand a game face or b) are intimidated by her. She was soooooooo friendly and fun. We stayed at the Viper for a bit then walked into the Kat Club long enough for her to say hi to her friend who was bartending then we went and hung out at the Rainbow until it closed. I haven't been to the Bow in ages and I was swiftly engrossed in conversations with all my friends who hang out there. It was almost a relief to see everyone. I'd forgotten how long it had been.

We said our goodbyes and headed home for the night. I had to be up at the crack of noon to get down to the OC to help Eliza cut hair. And by "help", I mean stand there and hold the flat iron. But it was a lot of fun. She is REALLY good at what she does! She's fast and damn, she made some ladies look fiiiiiiiiiine as hell, boy! She is trying to talk me into dreading my hair. Meh. Maybe. The girls that came down were all fun but the best part was the Moms. There were two moms that came and they were both like hip and cool parents, you know? I love parents in general, especially the cool ones. So it was fun chatting with them.

Afterwards, we headed to the Secret Spot then walked on down to the beach to eat there. And if you haven't looked yet, go over to Eliza's buzznet and watch me attempting to drown myself. The water didn't look that deep but I was soaked up to my waist. I had to borrow PJs from Eliza to get home. I looked reeeeeeeally funny at the gas station, let me tell you.

Sunday, I spent the afternoon sort of cleaning and sort of doing laundry. I have to get the house presentable for when my parentals get here this weekend. (YAY!) Jeffree and I went out that night to meet up with Kat so she could do more ink on his arm. This weekend was my weekend to be impressed by the skills of all my friends. First Julien K, then E Cuts, now Kat. That girl is fucking GOOD, man! I mean, wow. Not only does her art look stunning, but she's FAST! She doesn't take breaks to smoke or chat on the phone or pee like some other tattoo artists. She works and she loves to do it. And I kinda shyly mentioned that I wanted her to do my sleeve and she was into it! Which stokes me out because she is one of the best artists working and I really love her vibe. The three of us talked like old friends, instead of awkward small talk, which is always what you want in a tattoo artist. And she's so rock and roll and in love with LA. Whatever misconceptions you may have got of her if you watched Miami Ink, remember that shit is edited to make it "interesting" at the expense of the people on it. Kat rules and you should watch her new show, for sure.

After we were done, we locked up the shop and ran into my other tattoo artist, Colin. He is the person who did my arm piece and the piece on the back of my neck. He works at The Shamrock Social Club so if you are ever looking for a really amazing tattoo artist, ask for Colin. Taylor met us outside and we all had a nice hang sesh at the Velvet Margarita. I'd never been in but now I'm going to go hang out more. Its huge and lovely on the inside. We stayed for drinks (sprite with cherries is my new beverage of choice) then Kat drove us back to my car.

So all in all, it was a rad weekend, filled with people doing stuff I can't do. I can't play guitar, I can't cut hair, and I can't tattoo. But I can write about it!

And everyone pleeeeeeease look at my last blog and consider buying a Kill Cancer shirt! Its for a good cause.

NOW AVAILABLE Limited Edition KILL CANCER tees from the world famous Ordinary Clothing!!!! The proceeds go to Curesearch!!

I'm in a blogging mood today. Friday's are slow days in the industry. Even though we have a full house with artists (aka, all the rooms in the studio are working and the artist are here with their entourages instead of just the engineers like normal, plus label people here to listen to tracks), Friday's are still slow. Fridays are the days you call up your friends at labels and management companies, rental places and bands and just shoot the shit. You catch up on people's babies, their love lives, what their weekend plans are... and you do it because theey are your friends but you also do it looking for work. Everyone knows that. You're genuine friends but you also work together. If I put in a call to my friends over at Interscope, I'm doing it because they are my buddies. But while we're on the phone we also catch up on the projects we're working on together, future projects we might work on, and any projects past that still have open issues.

You go to shows to network. You go to shows to support your friends but that support isn't just standing there. Its watching the crowd and cataloging responses. Its bringing other people who might be able to help the band. Its sitting around at dinner after and discussing the show and the band's future and how we can all work together to advance them. You don't go to shows to relax anymore. I don't think I have anything that I do to relax. Even sitting at home watching TV, I'm on my laptop emailing people or texting people or calling my studio to ensure the night sessions are moving along. I get booking calls at 10pm. I get calls about sessions wanting to extend at 5am.

You discuss music constantly. I can't count the number of times we've talked about music today. Paris Hilton in jail? We talked about her album sales. Somehow talking about my new watch led into a conversation of disapointing sophmore album follow ups. Smoking a cigarette talking about weekend plans led to talk of friend's in band who want to hang out and how said bands don't have a single and how we'd write a single for said bands.

What was once your entertainment becomes your business. And you still enjoy it. You still love it. But you get jaded. You have to. Jamision is watching live Linkin Park... oh, now Nine Inch... oh no its Linkin Park covering Nine Inch Nails... anyway, LP live. And we're talking about how it was rerecorded and when you can here the autotune and how you can tell where they kept the live guitars. The mystery is gone but music still holds an allure to me. Its odd. 'The business of entertainment.' Is it an entertaining business? Lord only knows.

I love my job, my line of work, my industry. But its weird to take a step outside myself and realize there is never a day when I am not... I don't know. People tell me I'm all business and I know it. Maybe its just me. Maybe other people in my line of work aren't like this. But... they are. I mean, really. Its not like I initiate these conversations.

A man I used to work with by the name of Jay Baumgardner once said the wisest thing I may have ever heard - "The music industry is filled with people too smart and too motivated to do anything else." And its true. The people who excel are the people who always look for the challenge. Clive Davis is a multimillionaire and an old man. He could retire and live the rest of his days bathing in caviar, though he would smell very bad. But he keeps working because he loves it. He loves the challenge of making The Next Big Thing.

My best friend is annoyed with me. Weekends belong to him. We both have Monday-Friday jobs so the only time we can spend together is during the weekends. Last weekend, he was busy and we couldn't hang out. This weekend, I have shows I have to attend. I am going to support my friends' band because I love the band and I love the friends. But I am also going to network. I was specifically invited by the band to go and network. The text message? 'Maybe u can network a bit w us.' Shows become not optional. This is a lifestyle.

You have to blow off your friends a lot, industry and nonindustry alike. When you first start out, you don't have a set schedule. You are always on call, 24/7. I think there was one stretch were I worked 29 days in a row with now day off, 18 hours nights minimum. We were short staffed so I was setting up and breaking down one, two, or even all three rooms by myself. During those 29 days, there were several days back to back where I came in at 5pm and, at 2pm the next day, lay down on the floor of the tech shop to catch a nap before starting my shift at 5 again. I was like a ghost to my friends. I cancelled things en route to them because I got called in.

I really want you to understand how hard this business is. Every business is hard and you have to work to break in and work to advance. Hell, if you want to be a doctor you routinely work 40 hours straight with no sleep. But I don't think anyone thinks, despite all tales, that being a doctor is a fun, cool, and easy path to being rich and famous. There is a weird glamour that surrounds this industry and we make it that way. And it is glamorous but its tough. I wish I could get across to people how long and hard you have to work and have nothing or less than nothing to even begin to make it... and how easily you can lose it. This industry is SHAKY and big name cats lose their shirts on a daily basis.

If you want to do this, know your reasons. Know your motivations. Do it because you love music. And know that that love will be tempered and tested until its almost an abstract... or maybe pragmatic. Either or. If music is your solace and your sanctuary, know that you will lose that. It will never be yours ever again. It will never be a comfort the way it is to you now. You will never be able to go to a show and cut loose ever again. Know that, with certainty, the way you appreciate music will be forever lost to you. In return, you will gain the ability to be a part of music you desperately love (and sometimes loathe). You will be able to slightly sway the tides and, if you have perfect timing, help a band that you love (and sometimes loathe) make its mark a little (and sometimes a lot) higher.

Why do bands that make it big get so bitter? Because from the ground floor, being huge looks awesome and the problems that you have look petty. But when you're there and there your problems... well, no problem you have ever seems petty to yourself. I'm not bitter. But I'm realizing  I am little jaded and that goes with the territory.

I'm also realizing that I've made all my phone calls, made sure my producers and staff are set and its time to go home.

End stream of consciousness.

- E

Author's note: I swear. Deal.

Good afternoon, MSNBC. I tuned into your programing during my lunch to see what was going on in the world. I was hoping to hear about the shuttle launch or Bush's impending veto attempt for stem cell research. I was expecting you to cover nothing of substance and babble about Paris Hilton and, lo, I was not disapointed. However, I was APPALLED when I heard one of your anchors say "and at 9 PM eastern time tonight, our general manager will be doing a special on Paris Hilton. Dan has some very strong opinions on this issue and he won't be afraid to tell you them tonight at 9."

FUCK.

YOU.

YOU ARE A NEWS ORGANIZATION!!!! You are supposed to be giving facts NOT OPINIONS. If I wanted fucking opinion, I would put on ANY OTHER CHANNEL BUT THE NEWS!!!!!

I hate, hate, HATE infotainment. Hate it. HATE.

In other news, I have exactly a week left as a studio manager. This is not at all frightening or unsettling in any way and I do not strongly suspect that I might lose my lunch because I'm so nervous as to what is going on.

Gonna go scream at a few record labels until I feel better. Sorry, A&R department, but you must bare the brunt of my wrath over MSNBC and their inability to run a real fucking news story.

Remembering to cutely sign my name,
    Miss E

Flying over Hollywood right now are 8 newschoppers and a plane with the banner 'WE LUV U PARIS!' trailing behind it. When we're having an oil crisis and our planet is in environmental ruin, do we REALLY need any of this?

I need new music so I am going to post 5 bands I think you may not of heard of. You post and tell me a band or 5 bands you think I should check out. Ready?

Julien K
Lover's Revolt
Wired All Wrong
godHEAD
Over It

Your turn!

My exhaustion knows no bounds. The subtle hint of it invades every fiber of my being. My eyes are swimming, I slur and stumble. It is because the only drugs I ever take, I take to get on planes. Damnable bouts of terror planes cause me...although up until this very last plane flight, I thought my fears were over. I was actually enjoying flying despite Jeffree scaring the living daylights out of me as we were taxing down the runway on the plane we nearly missed and saying "we're not supposed to be doing this," in a serious tone.

He was mocking the lady behind us who had hit my seat when I cocked it back while we were parked at the gate and snapped "not until ten thousand feet." But holy FUCK, did he scare me. I'm not religious but I have superstitions and mathematics. Its the same thing.

Whether we were supposed to do it or not, we did it. My weekend was hopefully to consist of hawking a plethora of pink tshirts to eager fans with money burning a hole in their pockets, flicking faders and tweaking pots for maximum clarity and volume,  and selecting the most artfully costumed homosexuals for a personal appraisal by my august roommate.  Actually, Jeffree isn't a fan of uberqueer fan boys and doesn't really hit on people at his shows but goddamn if I didn't get some rad word use out in that sentence. How I spent my weekend was mobbed by kids who literally wanted to touch me because I knew Jeffree. They asked the same five questions, all of which I thought were common knowledge.

1) What is his favorite color? (Pink.)
2) Does he like boys or girls? (He loves dick like Anna Nicole loves TrimSpa.)
3) Does he wear a lot of makeup? (Look at him and answer your own question.)
4) Is he hot without makeup? (He looks like Tom Cruise except, you know, attractive.)
5) How did he get so famous? (He's good at marketing.)

Now, I'm used to people going crazy for him, even to heights of screaming and general fannishness that is usually reserved for fans of bands with a heavy rotation video or radio single. But Alaska was like an N*Sync reunion. People just parked it by my merch table (we didn't fly out Michael Merch for this but he'll be at Cindi Lauper, don't you worry!) and fired off questions with the tone of aspiring journalists in between repeating "you actually KNOW him?" with such wide eyed wonderment that I started to wonder if we were talking about the same person. I mean, Jeffree is mad cool and I love him to little bits and pieces but I don't think any one person is so cool that coolness just slides off their bodies and envelopes their friends in a aura of cool so massive to that every 10th girl asked "can I touch you?"in the hopes that the coolness might be third party transferable. But I have been wrong before.

I know it was more the excitement at seeing someone in a place that so rarely get shows than any sort of super-coolness on either of our parts but it was still really overwhelming. It was like a hint of what is to come, as his career continues climbing to heights we've both barely imagined. It was both extremely endearing and really annoying because I had a hard time actually doing my job with so many people crowding around just to talk to me. One girl even followed me to the sound booth and was trying to ask me more questions about Jeffree's make up preferences (MAC) and gloomy v. hello kitty preferences (not a clue) while I was trying to run the extremely glitchy board. No matter how many times I told her I'd be happy to finish our conversation after the show, she wouldn't leave and watch the very show she came to see.

And trust and know, the sound was a near thing. When we don't have a full band, the sound comes off of a CD, which I think I have expounded upon before. I stand around and hit pause and play, occasionally leaping for a fader or EQ pot but mostly just watching Jeffree and the crowd. Prerecorded tracks are hella easy on an engineer, though something always goes wrong somehow anyway. Well, at this show, we didn't have a CD player. So we hooked up the sound guys laptop but the outputs on the sides were shot. We didn't get a chance to sound check because we got there so late so we're panicking because the sound keeps cutting in and out as we're trying to set up. Then its only going up in the left channel. We finally get it all to go but its only in mono and if anyone so much as breathes wrong on this cord, the sound is going to go out, period. I have to set up a bunch of chairs to block people from getting close to the booth so no one hits the fucking cord. The entire show, the sound guy and I are watching the cord and shaking, trying to EQ the vocals and get enough gain on the track that the CD is loud and blended without feeding back. I don't think I've ever had to EQ so much at a Jeffree Star show in my life. But we worked it out and it all sounded fine. And the second day we used my laptop so all was well.

I didn't get to meet any of the dudes from Deadliest Catch (boo) because when we weren't at the show, we were pretty much sleeping. It was weird. It was light until midnight, then dark for 2 hours, then super bright again. It was pretty and there was snow on the mountains and yada yada but we all know I'm not one for vacationing or admiring the view. I want to work and move on to the next show. Relaxing is the least relaxing thing I can possibly do. We did, however, drive around and take in the view. I spent the time taking pictures for all of ya'll on Buzznet and advancing the date for the Arizona shows.

Alaska is quiet and pretty and filled with a lot of really kind people, one of whom even gave me a back rub before I went to bed both nights, which really endears me to a location. Al and Cole from Bitoz were especially awesome and rather amazing cooks. Feeding me is always a way to really endear me to a place. But no matter how lovely, I'm glad to be back to work. I have a month left at the studio, officially, so I have to make sure everything here is totally solid, assist my boss in finding my replacement, and train whomever replaces me. Its both very sad and very freeing. I've committed myself to change, for better or worse. It is what I most fear but I have made myself take action.

I'm committed to my own uncertainty. Just like that cable, it could go out or go perfect. It all depends on me watching over it and making the right moves and tweaks at the right time. I'm a smart girl and I'm good at making moves. Let's see if I'm worth all I think I am.

My life is filled with infinite highs and unfathomable lows, usually occurring simultaneously. And I would never, ever have it any other way. Chris says "live deliberate." I say that is impossible because you can't plan for what life will throw at you. (I also say you should still read his new book because even though we don't always agree, I respect the man's point of view.) I say nothing that can be a catch phrase or a fortune cookie. I like big, long statements made in run-on sentences. I say what I say with my actions and I live chaotically. And even in the deepest sorrow, the hardest moments, the most difficult of decisions, I am content with the purity of my heart. You can't imitate me nor I, you. So don't imitate - surpass or get out of my way.

As much as I'm not sleeping, as I lay awake crying, as I shake with dread and doubt and uncertainty... I am happy with my life. Fuck, I'm exuberant, in a most melancholy way. I just poured liquid eraser on my entire future. I chose, at 14, with no knowledge of the music industry past a Metallica video, to be a studio rat because its what I thought I wanted. Years later, I found out this isn't the truth. Do I love music or do I love engineering? The answer is music and the answer is doing what I think is hardest and the answer is I am not content sitting in one place anymore. The answer is you can try to tear me down, lie to me, lie about me, but absolutely nothing will stop me. And if you think you know what I'm saying, you don't.

I'm saying I quit my job, which is an agonizing decision that I've been weighing for months now. I am giving a month's notice to a boss who has been nothing but wonderful to me. He hired on a 24 year old girl whose farthest advancement in the music industry was fetching cheeseburgers, cleaning toilets, and occasionally getting a second to push a button or two for records that would sell millions of copies that I'd never see a dime from. He hired me over women with 15 or 20 years experience in studios, making me the youngest manager of a major recording studio in Los Angeles. He believed in me and through him, I've had the opportunity to work with some of my absolute idols, like Nine Inch Nails and Timbaland. In the year and change I've been with him, I've advanced to heights in my career that I couldn't have dreamed of.

But I'm not satisfied. I don't want my pinnacle to be a manager of a studio, no matter how impressive a studio and a title and how much my mother likes to brag to the other old ladies in her aqua aerobics class about me. So I'm taking what is actually a career and respect step backwards to try a new path - touring. And with the help once again of people who love and, more importantly, respect me like Jeffree and Angela, I've taken some strides. But did I quit without anything locked in to place? Yes, to give my boss more than ample time to find a good replacement for me, because that is the right thing to do. Is quitting my job without a solid job to jump to smart? Fuck no. FUCK NO. I may have just fucked my entire life up. But this is how I live my life - anything but deliberately but totally honestly.

I'm scared. I'm up all night crying. I mean shaking, waking up every twenty minutes, having panic attacks until I'm sick. I am scared. Terrified. But that's real. This is my life. Mine, how I made it, and no matter how rushed the construction of this bed that I made, I will lay in it proudly and purely.

I'm in a place my parents have never been. I don't know anyone besides Jeffree and National Product who has ever been to Alaska. And it is beautiful. And I am in love with my life again. Fuck, I never stopped being in love with life. No matter the difficult decisions I have found myself needing to make, I am in love with my life.

And this is what I challenge you all to do. Love your life when its shitty, when its difficult, when its not what you want and you're standing alone and no one believes you can do it. Believe in yourself because you can't count on anyone else to ever stand by you. Live deliberate, if that's your choice, or live chaotic or anything in between. Just fucking live it and love it and be goddamn proud of it. Because no matter how much you bitch and moan and envy and imitate or work and inspire and encourage and admire - your life is your life. No amount of anything will make your life anything more or less than yours.

I am not better than you. I am not worse. I'm scared and I'm unsure and I'm often times unhappy. But even unhappy, I'm happy. That's the challenge - to find joy in sorrow.

I am scared. I am shaking. I want to start bawling in the middle of Denny's. But no matter what - I'm proud of myself. And I love my chaotic, crazy, uncertain life.

Like the good man says, live long and prosper.

- E

Its 87 degrees in my apartment and it smells like gas. Gotta call the gas company in the AM and make them come fix that. Note to self: no smoking.

My apartment is a mess. I meant to clean before I left but ran out of time. Whatevs. I put up my newest additions to my weird model chair Japanese collection. Kinda like Jeffree and his Gloomy Bears, this is my new obsession. I have 4 and I love them. Who the fuck collects models of designer chairs? The same chick who collects Jesus action figures, I guess.

We're lucky to be home. I mean, REALLY. Ben came 90 minutes late to get our merch. With traffic going into the city, we were really late. Then the gas light came on and our GPS misdirected us 329052489642 through red lights for 45 minutes until I found the only gas station in Queens. Then Jeffree distracted me while I was doing 90 on an offramp. When I looked up, the car in front of us had stopped. I hit the breaks and cut the wheel and came so close to their car that I moved them just with the force of the wind of my car without actually hitting them. We're LUCKY.

We got to JFK with 30 minutes to spare. We got on the plane juuuuust barely and ran from gate to gate. Lo and behold, we're home safe and so is our luggage. Ima roll over and contemplate unpacking while my biffle sits in traffic on his way down for 10 minutes of hugs. Tomorrow is catch up day at the studio. Being gone for 9 days is gonna be hell on my paperwork.

Even hotter than a lakeside condo in hell, I'm happy to be home. But for the first time... I want to be back out on the road now too. :-( Oh, my poor little anxious heart...

If you were wondering about the rest of last night, I didn't end up magically loving New York. We pretty much played the worst set of our lives and were not happy about it. The only good thing about it was that I got to be a DJ at a really hot nightclub in New York. (Don't get me wrong, Snitch is a fucking awesome club. It just sucks for us because 21+ is not our draw.) I had the head phones on only one ear and I even took the cd and scratched it a little bit. Other than that, there was pretty much nothing redeeming about that night.

Today, we had to go back into NYC to get Raquel's wallet then bust ass to Hartford to meet my mom for lunch. We chilled with her for way too short a time then went to the Underground to load in. It was a down and dirty rock club and I was totally all about it. I was obsessed with all the graffiti bands left all over the underground dressing rooms.

The vibe was really bummed. Its the last day and we'd had a lot of fun and everyone was tired. Jeffree and Raquel slept while I watched drunk 13 year olds get kicked out. But by showtime, we all got energy back and the set went down pretty much perfectly. Of course. We hit our stride right when the tour ends. Fuck you, mini-tour.

Now we're back at the hotel in Jersey and Ben is coming at 9am to get our unsold merch (in 3 shows, we sold 13 of 19 boxes. Go team us!) I'm passing the fuck out. Think safe plane thoughts for me tomorrow. I hate flying even more than I hate New York.

Well, I suppose now is as good a time as ever to update on today.

I'm currently sitting in Snitch, which is literally on the corner of 21st st and 6th ave. We nave a booth in vip so I'm literally sitting on the corner, looking out the window onto the street. This sounds really effing cool but is really just fucking cold.

I just can't get past my loathing of and all that goes with it. Its lamesauce.

So, we checked out of one hotel in jersey and into another closer to an hour later. The new one is shitty and sketchy and lame but whatever. What band on tour stays in a hotel every night? We ditched our shit then busted into the city to get lunch and shop with Eliza. We were all kinda pissy and tired and over taking 183843828 cabs. We're just so sick of . Raquel lives here, Jeffree was here 18 times on business last year, and I've never liked it so we're just done.

As we're walking around, we get a call. Sarah is sick and Ultraviolet might cancel the show. And we flip out like "are we still playing? Should ultraviolet come out as our band without sarah or what?" so we're panicing, doing damage control, making sure we still are playing no matter what.

We drove all the way back through the Lincoln tunnel, got ready so fast it aint funny, then busted back to Snitch just in time. We have to pay $53 to park the fucking van and our "merch booth" is literally the space between 2 amps. I am not kidding. We had to downgrade to 2 boxes of merch. We've sold like 6 hoodies. 21+ crowds are shitty for us. Older fans never buy merch because they're to cool for school and most of our fans are younger so its questionable if we'll sell out. Tonight, shit is packed to the walls but that's about the only upside, in terms of making money on this night.

Now, we didn't book this show. Ultraviolet did. So we didn't get a deal memo. I've been trying to get info all day. We get here and find out that not only is our dressing room a kitchen but we're not getting paid since its a no cover show.

Really? Really, right now?

Whatever. We have important people coming, ultraviolet are our bros, the club is good to us, and they are playing one decent song as I type this. (The Cure.)

Yesterday I got so old, it made me want to cry...

Ahem. Anyway. So we suck it up because we got some major heavyweights to come out and see us tonight. Jen from Kittie is here and we just talked about throwing a huge all ages bash when we next return. And this place is hella nice. They moved us up to VIP and are feeding our whole entourage drinks. So they're all hella happy.

I'm just antisocial tonight. I'm not in the mood to chit chat and small talk. I'm saving myself for the important people because I have very little in me to give to other people in the flesh. Especially drunk nyc "scene" boys. Not my scene, so to speak.

There are just some nights when I'm just not in the mood to have hella fun. 21+ crowds are often these nights. I don't like drunks when I need to work.

Sarah is powering through this set, which is what matters. Go girl!

I'm just tired. I get to see my mom tomorrow. I get to get out of tomorrow. Any place that charges $53 to park should be slapped in the mouth.

Ug, I'm just in a pissy mood. We all are. But you gotta do what you gotta do. There will be many nights that I'm not in the mood or the show isn't what we thought... bumps in the road, water under the bridge. My bad mood can't hold me back from doing my job.

Fuck it. I'm gonna have fun, goddamnit.

, I'm gonna like you tonight.

I feel like Episode One of Queer as Folk - "what you have to understand is - its all about sex." Except sex, in the festival world, equates to backstage passes. Backstage passes get slutty girls (and guys) backstage to bang bangs and nonslutty girls (and guys) backstage to work for them. In the glory days of the 1980s, when rock still made money, bands like Poison and Motley Crew had special "groupie" passes that they would just give to their security with orders to find hot chicks and give them passes. This may have also occurred in the 1970s but everything before 1980 was totally lame and stupid except for the summer of punk in 1977 and October 20, 1854 – November 10, 1891 when Arthur Rimbaud was alive.

If you were wondering, this blog is LONG.