I'm real tired, so this is going to be a bit convoluted.

I scraped my knee on Saturday night. And then this morning, in one of my stellar moves of leaping out of a taxi to run down the street full speed at a God foresaken hour in order to make an early meeting, I slid in something wet. I quickly recovered and continued my final stretch, running through the bodega on the corner, barely slowing to grab my usual large, black coffee and toss some crumpled dollars at the Korean girl at the register with a smile - and made it to work in time.

It was only after the meeting, when I attempted to walk, that I realized something was wrong. Something is quite wrong, indeed. But when I went to show my work peeps all they could ask was, "what in hell happened to your leg?!" And when I looked down, I noticed I have cuts on my knee from the weekend, and now there was a trail of dried blood running down the back of my knee. I quickly covered my knee with my skirt and nonchalantly said, "Oh�nothing�."

But really, you'd think I was playing dodgeball at recess of something. I'm 27. Love me.

*~*

You know, I like to think I have a musical open mind. I'm all over the place. I'm accepting, really, I am. With the exception of all that is 80's. We've covered this. And maybe I don't LOVE the Beatles. Crucify me. But I'm open, really, I am.

I go through musical phases. And for the last few years, I could not stomach DMB. I was just feeling very, been there, done that. I had seen Dave starting in 1993, at college parties. I saw him in 1994 at the Mann and I couldn't believe how big he had gotten. I think the last time I saw him was at Tibet Fest�which one�maybe it was D.C.? Yeah, the one where that chick got electrocuted talking on her cell phone (another reason why you shouldn't be using cell phones, kids). Yeah. I remember I was working the show with a friend of mine�one of her bands was in the line-up�and I remember for Dave, I decided to blend into the audience and go all the way up into the nose-bleeds to see Dave and get the full-experience.

I was so far away he looked like an ant. It was funny. And he was good. His energy was high and the crowd went nuts. But I had this revelation, out there, among his fans. They had grown into something I didn't belong to, no longer wanted to be a part of - ever.

It was a crowd of frat boys. Like looking at an Abercrombie ad, ya know? The vibe was gone. It wasn't even like a Phish show, which can also be a frat-ish now but at least the kids make the pretense to be about the music and love. Dave was done for me.

Until last night. I was trying to sleep and finished my book, so as a last resort I picked up the Rolling Stone issue with his cover story and read it.

I really like Dave. I do. I like his vibe; I like what he has to say. I want him to win. Dave's so real. And he has this incredible energy and he has a band with real musicians and he really paid his dues and worked his ass off to get where he is today.

I thought about this for a while, because I was torn between the frat boy issue and the fact that I like him. Then I read that he teamed up with Glen Ballard for his album and I was really feeling that sell-out vibe. I really just CANNOT stand Glen Ballard.

Here's my issue with Glen. I think he must be this totally rad and amazing person for everyone to speak so incredibly highly of him. He obviously "connects" with artists and that's great. But I hate his methodology. I feel that he's more about the studio engineering side of music, the formula of pop, and less about the art of making music. Like he pushes artists to write these catchy, pop songs that kids love but his process is so - pedestrian. He lays instruments over each other. He doesn't allow musicians to weave the sounds into each other. He tells them not to jam, but to underplay. To play the basics. Just 3 minutes of what he needs and then he pieces it together. This would be fine if he were pushing them into a new direction - like the Sex Pistols went into. But he's pushing them into creating manufactured music. Music that fits the mold. Perfect Pop.

Glen, is kind of like the Calvin Klein of rock. The mass market minimalist.

But I must be wrong, right? Because Alanis and Dave, who as individuals seem to be really bitchin' people, swear that Glen broke down their barriers; chased their demons. And if Glen can do that for these very honest artists, then he must be alright, no?

I don't know. But after reading the piece, I played an old Dave album from back in the day and I remembered who I was when I liked Dave, and thought, maybe I liked Frat boys? Doubtful�but possible.

I am old. I miss Jerry Garcia. I do. I am sad that John Phillips died even though he screwed over most of the artists who played the Monterey Pop Festival. I am still angry at The Rolling Stones for fucking up Altamont. I wasn't even alive then. Is this normal?

At the same time, I can appreciate the silliness of Blink. I like Justin's new haircut and I love JC's hair long. I scream along with Kid Rock. I mourned the death of Joe C. I find myself attracted to Marilyn Manson in all of his goth glory. I'm still pissed that Edna Swap got no credit for Natalie Imbruglia's version of "Torn" and I am secretly happy that she was a one hit wonder.

I want to be in a band. I have no musical talent. This is a problem. Maybe if I could just think of something�

If I only had two turntables and a microphone. This would be a very different diary.

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