Sunday, April 29, 2012

Tonight I volunteered at a fundraising event that Dark Haired Girl invited me to.  I was bartender.

... alongside her New Guy.   There is no bad blood between us, no worries.  But as he began recounting the history of their relationship from teenage to reunion [shortly after her and my breakup] to some people, I had a hard time dealing with that.

But toward the end of the night, as we all had consumed a fair bit of alcohol, they began making out in front of me.  THAT fucking SUCKED.

Line in the Sand

The true deal-breaker in my next long term hardcore relationship:

Will you dance as enthusiastically with me as I'm dying to do with you at 3am on a Saturday night, home stereo turned up to a ridiculous volume, playing obscure yet infectious electronic dance music?

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Baked Goods and Funky Beats

I live above a little bakery/restaurant and have befriended the owner.  Her business hours are till 4pm, so I just assume that after that, the building is empty and I can play my music to whatever levels I wish.  Well, I went and raided a few record stores today and found some butt-kicking electronica/techno on vinyl.  I got home around 6pm, threw one on the turntable, and proceeded to rock out with my... sock out.

I noticed a text on my phone:

Her: That's a good sound from up there.
Me:  OMG you're still downstairs??
Her:  I'm down here doing some cakes LOL
Me: Well hell... I just picked up some Janis Joplin.  I'll put her on.
Her: Yea cool
Me: I hope you can hear that ok. 
Me: I'll spare you the techno.  But damn, the bass is incredible on vinyl.
Her:  Yep a little.  The other was good too.
Me: Well then, maybe I'll put on some Wild Cherry or K.C. and the Sunshine Band after this!

I'm playin' that funky music as I type this. She's cool as hell downstairs. :-)

Monday, April 23, 2012

Bitch, bitch, bitch... it's all I ever do anymore.

It's 12:04am as I sit down to write this.  My alarm is set for 6am.  I have to be at work by 7:30.  And here I am, wide awake and laying alone with eyes unable to close, staring into the darkness with a pounding case of the lonelies.

Jen and I did our usual Sunday afternoon hang-out, as has become a routine I very much look forward to.  I decided to cook tonight.  From-scratch mac n' cheese, baked tuscan herb chicken, and mixed veggies.  I swear, were it not for her, I'd have lost my marbles the second my last flame dumped me.  We had our usual discussions about relationships, and how different things look from the mens' and womens' perspectives.  I was telling her that the most discouraging aspect of being a lonely single guy is the uncertainty.  I know guys who, when they need companionship, hit the bar and just "get" a woman and have all sorts of unimaginable sexy adventures, as I would go to the store and "get" a gallon of milk and have... a glass.

I'm too bland to attract that sort of attention.  To thine own self be true... flashy alpha males get to have those kinds of experiences, and I'm just too much of a laid-back type B personality.  So when I get to feeling lonely and wanting like hell to kiss a girl, I have to land myself in steady long-term committed relationship before I get to touch another human being.   And that's where the uncertainty lies.  The five W's.  Who will she be?  When will I meet her?  What will the circumstances be?  Where am I going to meet her?  Why is she going for a guy like me? 

It may happen tomorrow.  It may happen five years from now.  And up until that point, I'm staring into the total darkness without a clue as to either when or where.  And once I meet someone who thinks I'm ok, then begins the courtship.  The long and dreadfully slow hike down the path of getting to know one another, seeing if we get along, and then establishing and nurturing a deep and soulful emotional connection, which takes a LONG FUCKING TIME.

Jen suggested that maybe I've already met that girl.  My ego would like to think that she's referring to herself. It wouldn't be the first time she's dropped hints like that.  I usually play dumb, but I catch them.  And it's taken quite a few years for the connection we share to solidify and deepen as it has.  It's just that we tried the relationship "thing", and it didn't work AT ALL.  Crash and burn and explode to smithereens.  The circumstances preventing a functioning romantic relationship between us are impassable.  But she's a part of me.  I feel so comfortable with and connected to her.  I miss her when I'm out of town.  And I abso-fucking-lutely DREAD the prospect of having to start at square one and blank slate with someone new, and taking the years upon years of effort to reach the level of attachment that I already have with Jen.

Jesus, I'm about to utter the phrase that has made me so bloody nauseous to my stomach the countless times unwitting crushes of mine have said it to me, but here goes:

I wish I could meet someone like her.

Friday, April 20, 2012

I love FAIL, FAIL loves me...

So I'm playing Draw Something this morning with Shaggy, when it's my turn and I get the word "dinosaur".  I often go to google images for ideas.  Hilarity ensues.


Monday, April 16, 2012

Classical Ghost Music

My Dad was a classical music fanatic.  He was the type of guy who could hear the first few opening notes of a piece and immediately call out not only the symphony number and movement, but also composer and even the era.  He was THAT GUY.  So while I suffered through a childhood of car rides filled with WDPR, Cincy's WGUC (which I called "double-you-GUCK"), and Cleveland's WCLV, I eventually gained a sensible, although not fanatic (and certainly not remotely knowledgeable) appreciation of symphonic music.

All, that, is, except for Anonin Dvořak's Symphony No. 9, From the New World.  Specifically the second of four movements titled "Largo".  Dad was elated when I said that not only did I like that piece, but that more than just a casual yen, I enjoyed it so much as to label it my favorite.  He always was proud of me for singling out and particularly enjoying that piece of music.  It was our little inside bond, Dvořak's Largo.

I am working at a retirement home in Elyria, Ohio, just west of Cleveland.  Today while we were working in resident's apartments, from an adjacent unit (as I was working in an empty Guest unit), I heard the dulcet strains of WCLV wafting  across the hallway.  It made me think of Dad, and then of how it's been possibly over a decade since I've heard my favorite piece... and how I would love to hear it again.  A few minutes later, the symphony which was playing ended, and after a station identification and then brief pause, I immediately recognized the very opening chord of the next piece.

Antonin Dvořak's Symphony From the New World, Largo movement.

On my work ladder I fell completely silent and still, taking in the music as though re-connecting with an old friend from the distant past.

And I felt the distinct presence of my Dad, to the point of nearly catching his scent, reassuring me with this beautiful gift of my favorite symphony that he was still very much alive and present... and listening.

 And I whispered to him "Hi, Dad.", and "Thanks."