"Tonight I am at the Vibe Lounge"

I am being overly advised on the subject of boys. It seems as though I have 5 or 6 big brothers in the LI scene (bigger, not older) who are determined to look out for my best interest. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have submitted an opinion, however none of you will be taking home the grand prize of being right. Sorry. I know you've all seen the worst of each other and that you're only trying to look out for me...but let's do like we usually do; let me make a mistake, then you come over and play Dakota on your acoustics to make me smile and neverr say i told you so. Deal? :) Ok.

Tonight- sigh. I have written this sentence maybe 12 thousand times; Tonight I am at the Vibe Lounge. It's been years now that I've been coming here, a few less years that I've been recognized here, and even a few less that my presence was requested. Yet in my scene, all roads lead home to Vibe. No, kids don't so much come in packs anymore, and yes, I have to repeat outfits all the time. But I had a lousy day with the situations mentioned above and I just wanted to be around a guitar. I wanted to be somewhere where no one could text me their opinions. I wanted to go to a home. Lucky for me, Dob tweets every 6 seconds and I was reminded of The Promise's show. So. Tonight I am at the Vibe Lounge.

I chat with Dob outside. I get my bag checked by the bouncer. I fixed my hair in the mirror coming down the stairs and accept a black X on my right hand. How many times have I done all this? I go to the bathroom, because there is nothing else to do yet, and as I come out, I quite nearly smacked Travis McGee with the door. Ok, I've never done that before. Hi's are exchanged like it's not awkward that I hit him with a door and now he's staring into the girl's bathroom. Then I walk to sit at the bar shaking my head at how classic Ricky that was, and wonder how many awkward moments I've created at the Vibe Lounge.

This band on the show- Stay, from Massachusetts- has a bassist with a mess of curly hair and a singer who wears super form-fitting skinnies (cuz he's not lanky he actually has a form to fit) and spends a lot of the time singing on his tip toes. Now why does that sound familiar...

The Promise- promises to be always slightly unconventional. I mean there's not a skinny jean or Vans shoe in sight and the frontman wears a Beijing 2008 Olympic t-shirt. That's The Promise. Dobby's mic is pretty short, as are many of the songs. But the jumps he does with his bass get mad air and, in a post-set "interview" he tells me those leaps actually come completely natural to him. No practice. Believe it or not.

I think I love it when a musician asks me if I can hear his instrument from the audience. It's always the same charades; quick point to his guitar then to his ear, while mouthing the question. I wonder how many times I've been asked this in the Vibe Lounge.

I have my favorite parts about this place for sure. For one, getting asked said question. But I also like how the touring bands just sit and stare at the local circuses play. And how Travis and Cerney get bored and start using alternate voices to announce Loaded's upcoming shows. I like when the girls in the bathroom are complaining about how stupid a drummer or bassist is acting while they graffiti his band's name on the stall. That step by the merch tables. I like how when I look into the ceiling mirror above the front row I can see 12 thousand sets and smiles and times that have been awkwardly perfect for me here.

Tonight I am at the Vibe Lounge. I had the lousiest day. I know everyone's just trying to help, but it's wearing me out. I got dressed and went to the same old venue with nothing but the promise of it feeling like home. I talked to Dob outside. I got my bag checked by the bouncer. I fixed my hair in the mirror coming down the stairs, and I accept a black X on my right hand. I didn't crack a real smile until somebody put on Mercy Mercedes in between bands. Then it felt like home.

Thanks for cheering me up guys.




...Terica.
"Shiver Me Timbers" by: Mercy Mercedes
(nov. 14th at TheVibeLounge with Between The Trees and Big City Lights)

you're what they're talkin about.

TimmyEPIC and I have had several conversations over why we love writing about the morning so much. I still don't know why. MatthewinColor says he can wake up and feel if it's going to be a writing day or not for him. I think it's mornings that Timmy and I wake up with 3 sentences already written that we notice, and it's those mornings that are, well, epic enough to be written about.

Every morning I wake up with a song in my head. Every morning I mumble "hola" to Candace as she walks back and forth getting ready for class. I must look ridiculous with blankets and blonde hair everywhere. Eyes still closed, I listen to what the dancers are complaining about in the kitchen- mostly teachers, mostly I always agree. By this time Nathen is singing out of my phone, because I'll set an alarm once in a month and never remember to turn it off. This is when I smile and open my eyes. 10 new text messages: Radio, Radio, tweet, tweet, Nate, Nik, tweet (shut up Dob), AndrePalmer, tweet, tweet. I roll over and the first thing I see is the Back To The Future picture Rob24 drew for me during Arts&Crafts time the other day. He says on Scene Street, USA, we will do Arts&Crafts and watch Elf every day. Next I see This Condition flyers, and I remember what I dreamt. I dreamt of a sacrifice, a kitten, a caterpllar, and an encore. I dreamt that everything was worth it.

I remember I get to go to Vibe tonight. I don't know who will be there or everybody who will be playing, but it excites me enough to free my legs from the covers and stand up. Today I don't fall. On the couch there's 10 minutes before the Golden Girls comes on, which is the official start of my day. I go to read the Singer's blog before I get coffee and before I start the TC mailing list.

But I don't get my coffee.

I sit there, everything quiet, still, and calm but my eyes. My eyes read his words and by the end one single tear falls, splashing loudly on the keyboard.

Please read it.
http://justinis.tumblr.com/

So far, if this was my last day, I would have made all the right choices. I would listen to The Maine and watch The Golden Girls and write a blog that didn't make sense until you guys read it. Sometime into the afternoon I would get dressed and go to Vibe, and I would smile no matter who was playing. Yet I supposed there is something I would be sure to do before I left..There are a handful of people who I should tell I love them. And you are one of them.


...Terica.
Can't Stop Won't Stop by: The Maine

back to the future

I am sick of loving things that don't love me back. These things, I'm sure, have no idea I feel this way. Some of them care. Some of them claim to care more than I comprehend. There is room for selfish in caring. Caring is not loving, not exactly. Some of them I have given my life to and still, they throw me out. They don't look back. Some of them I walk away from before they walk away from me. I am sick of being in love with things that leave me sitting in a corner or wondering if I said something wrong. I am sick of being in love with question marks. I don't want maybes.

I know the logical answer to this. I know I usually do the opposite of that. What I don't know is if my heart knows what it's talking about.




...Terica.

Shh. Just go with it.

Pros and cons.

I fell asleep in my skinnies, scarf, winter coat, and shoes.
Pro: I can literally roll outta bed in the morning and get coffee.
Con: Someone put a chip in my heart the night before.

Bright and sunny October morning.
Pro: it's a bright and sunny October morning.
Con: I just rolled outta bed. omg, I can't see a thing.

Grabbed the first cd off my passenger seat.
Pro: I started singing!
Con: the cd was old and only Every Avenue would play, over and over.
*scratch those. Reverse them.

I clap at the end of songs which both the band and I have performed exceptionally.
Pro: the audience loves me.
Con: the person in the car next to me thinks I'm psycho.

Radio wakes up early.
Pro: our love lives start or continue before breakfast.
Con: our love lives start or continue before breakfast.

Tom the Builder e-mailed me last night.
Pro: got the new song I wanted!
Con: see #1.

Everyone uses Twitter, Facebook, and aim.
Pro: you know when people wake up, when they went to bed.
Con: see #1.

I'm at a loss for words this morning.
Pro: I'm prolly not gonna text you anything stupid.
Con: I'm prolly gonna text somebody else something stupid.



Summary (for those of you with short attention spans):
It's gorgeous outside even though staying up all night induces heavy shivering which leaves my body tired. But I got my coffee and listened to Every Avenue, which reminded me of the boy who did make me smile last night. I'm a bad singer, but I've got sweetheart friends that egg me on anyways. My day is open and unpredictable, where as yours, well you know at least one thing that won't happen.


"I heard the bad news, I heard all about you.
It's not what you did. It's just what you do."



...Terica.
"Trading Heartbeats"

these hands are meant to hold.

So I think it's gonna be one of those days.

This was the first morning in weeks that I woke up on my own. Confused, I checked for text messages I didn't have. At first I thought it was nice, but I'm not so sure how I feel about it. I freed my legs from the covers to stand up with strength I didn't have. I forgot I had danced last night and fell right to the floor. My hernias are pissed. I got up to get dressed in peace that wasn't there. One of my roommates was screaming, shocker. So I threw on a scarf and left, while friends on my phone asked me for answers I didn't have.

I looked at the size of my wallet and bought plain coffee, drove home and dropped it all over myself. My hand were shaking. Anxiety. I sat down, letting the liquid scald me just to have a moment to breathe. Tears though, I don't have.

The only thing I have to eat are Eggos. So I made one and ate it with syrup that I don't have. I have water, and an Eggo, and a coffee stained leg. And patience.

I spent money I don't have on the Stereo show at Highline later. I don't know why. I don't have the heart to see them. I think this is gonna be one of those days, but at least I've got today right? There's a lot I don't have, but I have a lot to give..I'm just not sure it's anything you want.



...Terica.
"Move Along" by: All American Rejects

hey there it's good to see you again.

pa⋅tience
 
 /ˈpeɪʃəns/
Show Spelled Pronunciation [pey-shuhns

See web results of patience
See images of patience

–noun

1. an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay.












...Terica.

we watch and wait and do nothing but sigh, and hope...

I am laying in my bed listening to cold rain tap up against my window. I know its cold because Radio already warned me in a text that it was. I wonder when I started sleeping with my cell phone on my pillow, and I wonder why by now it's not a boy there instead. But it was 3am when I reached a full inbox, so I don't wonder for long.

There are 4 or 5 vans full of the people I believe in most tooling around various parts of the country right now. Tour awake hours are different from home awake hours, and I don't mind that they consider me on their schedule. Therefore I am up texting every night, sending homemade hope thousands of miles down the line. I guess it's the scene form of pillow talk.

I slept more tonight then I usually do, having time to dream about one of the vans living along the highway. I woke up, losing how it ended, but the tense pain in my back must mean it wasn't well. My arm instinctively wiggled free of the blankets and I squinted to start answering the 4 new messages since last I was awake. I started sleeping with my phone on my pillow when they started sleeping in bunks on wheels.

Most readers think I hate tour, I've written it mainly as a thing of abandonment and loss. But the truth is, I would rather have 5 vans of the boys I love most scattered around the country making me worry at all hours of the night than have them safely in their Long Island beds. It's where they want to be, and where they should be. Plus I'll worry either way. And I can sleep when I'm old and have fully reaped the fiscal benefits of an entire season of VH1 Behind the Music.

The sun is coming up, and while the last of my band boys gives into rest, I sit up and start working on the 11 pages of notes I took on Casari last night. I have until lunchtime to finish them, which is when I usually expect the next round of pillow talk texts.




...Tera.
"Everything'll Be Alright (Will's Lullaby)" by: Joshua Radin