I'm pulling Axl. I've realized I don't have the time I thought I did and I feel bad doing this when I can't throw my heart and soul into it.
I <3 you all, though, and I hope you have fun. ^^

My personal receptionist is getting married and moving to Chicago, which means I'm going to have to interview a new one. I've narrowed down the applications, and I'm meeting one of my "first choices" tomorrow. Too important to let anyone else do the interview, though. Last time I tried that I spent a week answering practically every damn call that was dialed, before I fired the girl.

Hopefully this first guy works out, so I don't have to sit through twenty interviews asking the same damn questions and getting the same damn answers.

In other news, yesterday I worked with a man I just signed, fixing up little snags on his album, producing it for mass marketing. One more session on Monday and I think we can move on to graphic design choices, etc. And then the marketing people do the rest while we sit back and the artist bites his nails until they bleed.

And in this business, ain't that always the way?

So, just like it says. I guess it's easy to forget how bright life seems when you've just been signed. Then again, I never was, so what do I know? I usually let someone else do it, but this was an exception. I don't know if I like it... sure, working on the production and management of a band-- and a new one, at that-- for the first time in three years is a little like being reborn. But it's also something that brings stress like you wouldn't believe; you've only got somebody's life and soul in your hands.

I can handle it, obviously, but it brings up memories and other nasty things. I don't really like remembering.

It takes too much energy... too much time.

I have a mountain of paperwork to finish; probably be up half the night settling it all. Oh, well, I don't have to be in until eleven. I'll just nurse a glass of Red Bull, much improved with the addition of several shots straight up Jack Daniels. This baby has saved my life more than once, I'll say that. Some people swear by Vodka, but I can't stand it.

This drink will do the trick, all right. If it doesn't kill you, first.

There's something exhausting about working, beyond the obvious. Maybe it's because it gives you so much time to think. Between trying to figure out how in seven hells someone managed to fuck that up and what you're going to say in order to get people to support your latest decision, there are moments where things hit you.

I hire people to do the busy work so I don't have to; I do what needs to be done myself. I try to think as little as is humanly possible about the past. I'm not too cool to not quote the Lion King, sometimes bad things happen and you can't do anything about it. Hakuna fucking matata.

I'm too tired. I don't want to go out. It takes too much effort, especially on nights like these. It reminds me how much happier people would be if I wasn't me. Well, fuck that.

I'm not changing.

They think they run the place. Damn, I was rich and famous and had it made before you were born. I've been there, done that, and went to the giftshop for every damn thing you could possibly think of. I'm not nostalgic, but when us 'old' guys-- forty-five is old now, what the fuck is up with that-- when we tell you what we've been through, we're not lying to impress you. All that uphill both ways barefoot in the snow and hail and icestorms? That's not a lie. Actually, it might just be a fucking understatement.

I built this company on my back. Made millions, lost it all, made dozens more. And now I'm rich and successful and all you little faux-blond bombshells waltz in on a contract I deigned to give you and you expect everyone to fall down at your feet and simper. I don't care how fucking hot you are or how cool you think you are; I've seen it all before, and it doesn't impress me anymore. You may all be seventeen, nineteen, twenty-four and think you're the shit. But you're not; you're just another in a sea of faces that is passing me by. You're on the outside, looking in. Stars will fade, but black holes are forever.

And that is exactly what I am.

EDIT: And before someone asks, I love my fucking attitude problem.

The press keeps pressuring me for an interview. If I fucking wanted to give one, I would. But I don't.

They ask the same questions every time. Why don't you ever speak to the other original founding members? What tore you all apart? Why are you the only one left? When is GNR Recording Co. releasing a new album? Why do you personally produce certain songs and work with some bands and not others? What is your connection with this man? The answers never change; it's still none of their fucking business. I make music. Maybe there are long delays between albums, but one of the few things I'm proud of is that GNR turns out some of the best in the business. The best. I never got to make it anywhere myself but fuck if I won't make others great.

God, I need a drink. Fuck the hangover; it's just one more thing to regret tomorrow.