Magdalena O!

Marika wrote this and I had to keep it, because it is forever how I will feel about j.

it’s hard when their music is still a part of your world and you can’t stop feeling the wrong emotions because of it.

Sometimes I go through periods where I can’t even listen to his music but I obsessively stalk him online. I read every post about him on every forum I can find. I check the stats for the thousands of hits on his mixes. I imagine him playing, touring, making music, being without me. Sometimes I imagine I’d have to give up drum n bass if we were to end. I compulsively force insecurities on myself. But inside the deepest parts of me, the parts I try to hurt,  I know I can’t be without him, and I know he can’t be without me. I want to be with him forever. And even if forever isn’t something I understand, I know it to be a long long time. It’s in the ways of ‘i want to be there when you grow old, i’m curious and enthralled by the prospect’. Sometimes I hate him for it. For making me love him so much, for making me lose my shit because I believe he doesn’t get me at all, and then he does, at the last moment, he does and there I go.

I picked up some used midi gear for him yesterday and he insisted I take photos of it. I had just stepped out of the shower before bed and was too lazy to put on clothes so I emailed him some shots with PhotoBooth, trying to cover up the important parts. He stayed up all night making music and flipping between the program and his email. I am such a producer’s girlfriend.

I think I’ve been listening to the wrong people. I think I’ve also been paying too much attention to distractions(ers) that keep my desired life away from me.

&

When white people say,
“I can’t stand that area. It’s so white.”

I wonder if they realize they are the ones that help make the neighbourhoods that way. Perhaps they aren’t aware that their habitation brings more white people and so on until, the neighbourhood “is so white.”

Last weekend was full of theatrics, tears in alleyways, bruised ego’s, unrelenting Jager shots and the birthdays of two of my close friends. So we danced and got messy and played music really fucking loud.

Going out this Thursday was no different. I decided to go for that American Apparel sleeze look with a man’s tanktop over some shiny leggings. I am so fucking original. Went to the Drake (for my second time ever! i am still that pure) to see The Bug and Warrior Queen. Immigration lead the woman back to her home and gave us Flowdan instead. The opener, some dude representing Ninja Tune in Montreal played a shameful set sans actually mixing, of dancehall… on Serato! Yes, dancehall on Serato. Ninja Tune praises itself on having a roster of serious DJ’s and they give us this drone? Didn’t mix one tune and was using Serato. If you’re going to bust out dancehall, you need to do it with the real deal. It was embarrasing. I had to drink. Some friend’s found out that the friend I was rolling with had chach and so they all tried to impart their wisdom about how “it’s so boring.” “don’t do it. i just did some and now i’m so tired.” “i’m so done with that stuff, it’s so useless.” It was amusing to me, because a. i barely do that shit b. they’re both into it. I enjoyed the drunken worry. In the bathroom. Quickly. I had to. The Bug gets on. Complete wreck. Plays some tunes I enjoy, but is so inconsistent. Fucks with his levels too much. Flowdan comes on. Mosh pit ensues. I start thrashing around my body. Go do more. I try to remember the complete euphoria of Kode 9′s set in Montreal in May. Focus. Can’t. Flowdan announces last song, I already know what it’s gonna be. I start screaming and pounding my fists on the stage. It comes on. I’m finally getting what I came for. Too bad it’s some shitty remix, but I keep focus. I need something. It’s over.

I run into one of the dude’s that’s the cause of all the drama I wrote about in my last entry. I confront him. He makes up some bullshit. Attempts diplomacy but I can see right through it. I’m feeling hostile. “C’mon. Just stop it already,” I tell him. He refuses to acknowledge his hate-on for me. He refuses to acknowledge anything. “We’re all vying for the same thing here. We want good music for our city.” I can’t believe he’s feeding me all this. We get interrupted by another friend of mine who wants to dance. I go dance with him a bit, then get dragged out. We walk to the Pizza Pizza because Dare‘s there. I knock on the glass with marked haste. Some poor Abercrombie & Fitch model is sitting near the window alone eating fries and gives me cut eye. I start dancing around and making faces at him. I’m feeling totally high school right now. We’re hanging out high on a Thursday night in front of a pizza joint. It calls for it. Angry faces come back at me. Darren comes out, “Dude is really pissed off.” So I make more faces. Jon says, “I’m still hungry. I really want a fry. Get me one.” I agree and go inside to get a fry from model dude. “Hey man, I wasn’t trying to diss you. I just wanted to get my friend.” He nods and gives up a fry when I ask. At this point, anything childish will keep us entertained.

Some guido walks by and yells, “Flash me for 20 bucks.”
“Fuck off.” I yell back.
“Fine. I’ll flash you for 20 bucks.”
“Ok there buddy.” Dare says.
Buddy responds, “I know you’re gay but I’m not.”
I give a look, “Whhhhhhhat?” and slap him across the face. Buddy can’t believe it. “Yo, I just got bitch-slapped by a chick. What the fuck?” A whole riot of cuss words ensues. He tries to understand what happened. “I don’t care for homophobia. So go fuck off.” I say my last words to him. Sham gets in his face, “You’re gonna get bitch-slapped at some point so it might as well have been now.”
Buddy’s friend comes over trying, “You did the right thing girl. He deserved it.”
More 3am wild chatter. I try to undermine the whole situation because I start to get awkward with all the attention on me by all the others and intermittently cover my face – hiding.

I held this off for a few days, because looking back at the situation, I grimace. What was I thinking? It’s the dog days of summer, really.

What does it mean that I am not fucking my brains out while totally loaded on Meritage red wine from a staff party?

Because I could be. But I managed otherwise. I really should be getting the shit fucked out of me right now. I really should. The picture below is from 2006. Just in case you were wondering.

Many of my discussions with J revolve around loyalty and my inability to take it easy when it comes to ‘having someone’s back’. Sometimes I even think that my intense need for mutual respect and giving credit where it’s due is to my detriment. But I shouldn’t think that way.

Being involved in a specific music scene in my city in every way (as a dj, promoter, party goer, label pusher) makes my demand for loyalty and no-bullshit very tricky. On one hand, I’ve never been able to shut up about my opinion  and calling out people on their lameness, but it is precisely that, that hinders many relations that I need to have to survive in the scene. Being a chick isn’t a fucking great option either. I was talking to Brett from Offshore about why there’s no girls ever let into the cliquey boys club, because he’s one of the few guys in the scene that doesn’t seem like a closet sexist. He told me that it arises when you find a bunch of dudes that have a hard on for something, meaning they don’t want any girls in on the circle jerk. So when a girl comes around that isn’t interested in sleeping with them but has the knowledge and is balls out, they’ll take everything she offers as a hostile move.

What the fuck? Why am I even so bothered about this? Who the fuck cares about their circle jerk sessions. I’ve been there. I’ve been given daps for about a second when I drop knowledge, and then the smoke clears and I realize that it’s useless for me to give a shit about people who don’t give a shit about me. I don’t even care about them or want to be involved with them, but my love of the music, especially the particular sub-genre in which there is only a few of us into, gets twisted into thinking that they are part of it and thus must be part of my experience. I will admit, that, sometimes I do wish I would be accepted, that I would be part of it, and there are times I am, or think I am. Sometimes I do want to fit in. And they do do good things for drum n bass. What?! Why? It’s all so silly especially because it’s one small city and my love is beyond that and if I really really wanted to fit in, I’d keep my mouth shut. But it is my city too and I can’t just let them run it. I can’t. I can’t stop trying to bring my perspective. I can’t stop. Just like when I’m full of shit, I want people to call me on it.

I wanted to write more about loyalty. I’ve been thinking about it more and today I checked out Sarah / Disposable City and there it was, everything keeping my mind busy.

Its boring to think that the “key to happiness” is really just keeping my fucking mouth shut and having as few emotions as possible. Were I more even-tempered and less demanding in the realms of reliability and respect and loyalty, Id probably get along in the world much better but, instead, I expect only the best of social manners from the people I have around me and when that is compromised I have no problem making it known. I look at certain relationships and I cant quite figure out how they thrive when the people they are comprised of are such disrespectful imbeciles. Perhaps its the fact that I refuse to waste my time with people that only hang around for their own gain or maybe Im a heinous bossy bitch, but either way, it just doesnt make much sense to me. That being said, I completely envy it on some level or another. I wish I could just grin and bear it when it comes to bad friends and mistreatments, because clearly this works. Theres no knowing what goes on behind certain closed doors but some people, evidently, are just really good at maintaining this neutral attitude at all costs.

Several weeks ago I started up yoga classes again. It had been so long, and doing my own practice wasn’t giving me the deepness I need to further my practice. All day today at work all I could think about was 19h10 to lay down in shavasana and begin. Begin moving my body to my breath. Breathing in and out to the asanas. There are so many things that make me happy, yoga’s ability to induce intense emotions in me is one of them. Today’s class was really productive and I was able to go deeper into Plow, and maybe one day I’ll be able to stand on my head again. I’ve only been able to do it once many years ago with help from my instructor. The Great Seal deepness also gave me a lot of pleasure today. I should set up a routine to do even a wee bit every day like I used to. This is what I want.

Maybe this will keep me away from causing shit with the elite boys club that is the jungle scene in my city.

I think I’m done for real. I am such a broken record with this, but I am weak, I admit & I don’t know where to find the strength to finish it. It’s sunny outside but instead my paralysis has me in here, unable. I want to be able, for this, for certain.