My buddy KP & his wife hired a dancer for their son's 18th b-day party a few weeks back. I was over there because we have some projects we're working on together in his garage. The young lady came in & hung out for a bit before they were ready for her downstairs. I talked to her & she seemed cool. She told me she was close to hanging up her g-strong - just a few more student loan payments to make.
I've been around dancers most of my life. It sort of went hand in hand with that musician thing. I never dated a practicing dancer but I've been friends with more than a few. They make good cash but I do feel a bit of pity for them as they see a very fucked up side of men which in my experience has altered their judgment of the rest of us. But some of the sweetest biggest hearted folks I ever hung out with were strippers.
Anyway they (KP & his wife) urged me to come down to see the look of surprise on the kid's face. So I wandered downstairs & watched for a minute or two. The lady was attractive - I noticed that when we were chatting up in the garage. The kid was surprised & his friends were acting like 18 year old boys do when they see a pretty dancer. & all that was cool.
But then she took off her shirt.
I've seen a few naked women in my life & I've never been shy. but she had a tattoo across her back. Not that I have anything against tats (I just never wanted one for myself) but it caused a flashback. JAG has a tat on her back. A fairly big one. & one on her neck, & arm, & stomach & on each calf.
So I went back upstairs & started working on the project again. It wasn't like I was going to go home with her even if I tried. I just didn't feel cool about seeing a pretty young lady with a tat on her back stripping for someone else. & I know it was because I kept thinking of JAG. KP asked me why I didn't stick around & I told him some bullshit so he wouldn’t take offense. I don't like whining to folks about stupid things I'm going through (this blog notwithstanding).
I really pick fucked up things to get sentimental about.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Harrington
It all starts when I'm 2 months old.
Frankie & Johnny had been having some problems & Frankie went to try to work things out with him. She left me with Jean & Frank & that's where I stayed. I asked her once why she didn't take me with her & she said that every time she tried I'd fight to stay with Jean & Frank. This was true, but not until I was a bit older - say 4 or 5. But that was all the answer I got from her. I asked Johnny once & he said he wanted to but every time he mentioned it Frankie just said, "no; he's fine with mama & daddy".
So my grandparents became my parents, which created a very odd family dynamic. I didn't really view Frankie & Maria as my mother an aunt - it was more like two older sisters. Well kinda. But it never really bothered me; Jean & Frank were great. They gave me all the love & security that anyone could need & I always reasoned that it worked out better for me & for them.
Of course this situation did create problems. Frankie & I had a very stoic relationship. She wasn't the most emotionally expressive person to begin with. When we'd talk she'd either be neutral or angry. So I picked up on that & did her one better - I was either neutral or a smart ass.
By the time I was 13 frank was starting to decline. So I ended up quitting school when I turned 16 in part to take care of him but also in part to pursue the music career I was starting. By the time I was 17 I was doing CNA type work on him - changing compression stockings, administering meds, cleaning him up, etc... I would carry him to Maria's car whenever he had a doctor's appointment. One of the last times I did this I was greatly worried that he wasn't going to come home. I told him I loved him like I had a few dozen times before that year & he looked up at me with his piercing blue eyes & said, "I love you too Michael". To this day it's the level of sincerity that I use to judge all others.
He died when I was 18. I wasn't at the hospital when he passed but they told me he went peacefully. He just stopped breathing. He didn't talk much to begin with & hadn't said anything for several hours that day when he asked Maria & Frankie if I had any good pants to wear to his funeral. They told him I did & that was the last he spoke. A few hours later he passed.
Jean went to live with Maria & she did okay for a while. But she started to decline when I was getting near 21. I tried to go there & tend to her as i did Frank but I don't think I did as much for her as I could or should have. She went into a nursing home that October & in November she passed.
Before she started getting too sick I took her to KFC one day. She loved their mashed potatoes. I talked with her & told her I was real sorry about all the arguing & fussing I had done with her as I was growing up. She just looked out the window & said, "I don't remember any of that". So from her in her last days I learned about forgiveness towards those you care for.
When she passed I was on my own. I started to feel the loss of the security they had provided for me. I didn't speak to anyone in the family for months after her funeral.
Frank & I were arguing once & he told me to stand over his grave & make sure he was buried. I forget the context - it very well could have been a "you'll be sorry when I'm gone" type thing but I took it literally. Jean said something similar so with both of them I stood over their graves & made sure the dirt was poured on them. With Frank it was a pleasant day weather-wise. With Jean it was raining. I stayed for both of them because it was the last thing I felt I could do for them in this world - keeping a promise that probably wasn't meant to be kept in the first place.
Anyway I've been on my own ever since. I never went back to college after Jean passed, instead gigging as much as I could. Before too long I was doing it as a career. I did so until I moved halfway across the country, then I just stopped. Since then I've mainly been delivering pizzas for a living.
& I started writing. It doesn't pay a damn thing but I've spent a great deal of time writing, first in chat rooms (where I learned how to type) then in forums & finally on blogs.
& that's where I am today career wise. I'm delivering pizzas & writing on two blogs - one about a specific field & the other is this one, which is mainly my musing & whining about life. There's more to tell about me than what I've written so far but I'll save that for another post. This is just the background to give you an idea of where I come from - or more precisely how I became who I was & might still be.
Frankie & Johnny had been having some problems & Frankie went to try to work things out with him. She left me with Jean & Frank & that's where I stayed. I asked her once why she didn't take me with her & she said that every time she tried I'd fight to stay with Jean & Frank. This was true, but not until I was a bit older - say 4 or 5. But that was all the answer I got from her. I asked Johnny once & he said he wanted to but every time he mentioned it Frankie just said, "no; he's fine with mama & daddy".
So my grandparents became my parents, which created a very odd family dynamic. I didn't really view Frankie & Maria as my mother an aunt - it was more like two older sisters. Well kinda. But it never really bothered me; Jean & Frank were great. They gave me all the love & security that anyone could need & I always reasoned that it worked out better for me & for them.
Of course this situation did create problems. Frankie & I had a very stoic relationship. She wasn't the most emotionally expressive person to begin with. When we'd talk she'd either be neutral or angry. So I picked up on that & did her one better - I was either neutral or a smart ass.
By the time I was 13 frank was starting to decline. So I ended up quitting school when I turned 16 in part to take care of him but also in part to pursue the music career I was starting. By the time I was 17 I was doing CNA type work on him - changing compression stockings, administering meds, cleaning him up, etc... I would carry him to Maria's car whenever he had a doctor's appointment. One of the last times I did this I was greatly worried that he wasn't going to come home. I told him I loved him like I had a few dozen times before that year & he looked up at me with his piercing blue eyes & said, "I love you too Michael". To this day it's the level of sincerity that I use to judge all others.
He died when I was 18. I wasn't at the hospital when he passed but they told me he went peacefully. He just stopped breathing. He didn't talk much to begin with & hadn't said anything for several hours that day when he asked Maria & Frankie if I had any good pants to wear to his funeral. They told him I did & that was the last he spoke. A few hours later he passed.
Jean went to live with Maria & she did okay for a while. But she started to decline when I was getting near 21. I tried to go there & tend to her as i did Frank but I don't think I did as much for her as I could or should have. She went into a nursing home that October & in November she passed.
Before she started getting too sick I took her to KFC one day. She loved their mashed potatoes. I talked with her & told her I was real sorry about all the arguing & fussing I had done with her as I was growing up. She just looked out the window & said, "I don't remember any of that". So from her in her last days I learned about forgiveness towards those you care for.
When she passed I was on my own. I started to feel the loss of the security they had provided for me. I didn't speak to anyone in the family for months after her funeral.
Frank & I were arguing once & he told me to stand over his grave & make sure he was buried. I forget the context - it very well could have been a "you'll be sorry when I'm gone" type thing but I took it literally. Jean said something similar so with both of them I stood over their graves & made sure the dirt was poured on them. With Frank it was a pleasant day weather-wise. With Jean it was raining. I stayed for both of them because it was the last thing I felt I could do for them in this world - keeping a promise that probably wasn't meant to be kept in the first place.
Anyway I've been on my own ever since. I never went back to college after Jean passed, instead gigging as much as I could. Before too long I was doing it as a career. I did so until I moved halfway across the country, then I just stopped. Since then I've mainly been delivering pizzas for a living.
& I started writing. It doesn't pay a damn thing but I've spent a great deal of time writing, first in chat rooms (where I learned how to type) then in forums & finally on blogs.
& that's where I am today career wise. I'm delivering pizzas & writing on two blogs - one about a specific field & the other is this one, which is mainly my musing & whining about life. There's more to tell about me than what I've written so far but I'll save that for another post. This is just the background to give you an idea of where I come from - or more precisely how I became who I was & might still be.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Elton Was Right
"Don't wish it away. Don't look at it like it's forever.
Between you & me I can honestly say that things can only get better."
Ayup. Things can't get much worse. We're not speaking to each other at all. I've been avoiding Yahoo Messenger because it bugs me when I see her on & know we ain't going to IM each other. Hell I've been avoiding being at home when I think she's going to be online. If I get out of work at 11:30 p.m. I fuck around for a while then come home & turn on a movie till at least 1 or sometimes 2 a.m.
Today was 3 months since I've seen her. In a few days it'll be 3 months since we've communicated in real time. & in a few weeks it'll be 3 months since we've fallen out.
I checked out her MySpace page once in mid November but not since. I checked out her yahoo personals profile a few times but by early December I stopped hitting yahoo Personals at all. I tore down my page anyway. It got to me that she'd always come up in the top 5 of my searches. Usually as a "5 heart match". Not sure if it's ironic but it did sting a bit. I figure if she wants me to know about her life she'll call. If she doesn't - well I'm not a stalker, or a spy. Besides, no point in looking in on her. If she needed anything from me she'd be in touch wouldn't she? Or maybe her sister would actually get in touch in her stead if JAG's need was great. In any case I'm not up to reading about how cool her life is going w/o me in it. Petty maybe but we all have pettiness about us in some things. & it’s not that I don't wish her happiness, I just don't want to be a spectator if I'm not directly involved.
3 months & not a word from her. Maybe that's just the way life is, but I thought she & I had a deeper connection than that. Deep enough that if we did stop speaking it'd have been on better terms.
Something I dwell on more than I should is that I'm pretty sure she still checks out my site. My other site, the one where I'm anonymous & I don't talk about my personal life. & it's cool if she gets any enjoyment out of my scribbling but I do wonder why the hell she's hanging on to me that way. Does she actually care but just think things are too messed up to contact me at the moment? Does she feel guilty & just want to make sure I'm alive & pissed about politics? Or is she hoping to see some kind of sign from my site that she'll take as meaning it's cool to completely abandon me or to get back in touch again?
I could always ask her but A: that'd mean I'd have to approach her & B: that might make her stop dropping by.
The first is my pride. Yeah I know, goeth before a fall & all that. But man has to have some pride about his life doesn't he? Even if it's not especially a cool kind of pride, some is better than none right?
The second - as fucked up as I am I never wished harm on anyone I cared for despite their actions towards me. & even more than that I honestly want those I care for to be happy. If her reading my site brings her some kind of comfort or security or peace or happiness then I would not take that away from her.
Though I have noticed in some post over there I write as if she's my target (& perhaps sole) audience). The latter might not be too far from the truth; I get about 250 hits a day but a lot of those are search engine results leading folks to me. Any readers are better than no readers but that'd mean less than half of my traffic is deliberate. & of those that do come to me on purpose I have no idea how many are daily readers or weekly readers.
I'm just sure she hits me 4 or 5 times a week. Hell she even left a comment on another site I pointed to the other day. I recognized the way she typed, the way she phrased. Which is fucked up because that's part of why I care for her - her mind & the way she thinks. Not that she's not fine as hell – she is, but that wouldn't matter to me in her case.
So 3 months have gone by. Will it be 3 more? Or 3 more years? Or will she pull her head out of her ass only to find that I've passed on? It's not like odds are in favor of me reaching retirement age or anything. Maybe I tend to be dramatic about my own mortality but genetics & my habits are not in my favor.
In any case i am thinking of her, fondly & aggravatedly. We could have had so much fun since then, & maybe arrived at something cooler than we had. But her actions & my pride fucked that up. For the time being & perhaps eternally.
Still I'm thinking of her when I should be 2 or 3 flings distant by now. Out of all my faults, & there are many to choose from, she shouldn't ever think not caring or feeling some sort of devotion is one of them.
3 months really isn't that long, unless you miss someone deeply then it's an eternity. (yeah that was a bit dramatic but it flowed nicely as a phrase don't you think?) I'm hoping that it won't be another 3 months, or that in October of 2007 I'm able to send her an "anti-versary" e-mail like I did last July. But hoping won't accomplish much. She knows I'd like to talk & she knows I won't instigate contact. Her court, her decision, etc...
Things can only get better. Not that they will but from the ground the only direction left to go is up.
Between you & me I can honestly say that things can only get better."
Ayup. Things can't get much worse. We're not speaking to each other at all. I've been avoiding Yahoo Messenger because it bugs me when I see her on & know we ain't going to IM each other. Hell I've been avoiding being at home when I think she's going to be online. If I get out of work at 11:30 p.m. I fuck around for a while then come home & turn on a movie till at least 1 or sometimes 2 a.m.
Today was 3 months since I've seen her. In a few days it'll be 3 months since we've communicated in real time. & in a few weeks it'll be 3 months since we've fallen out.
I checked out her MySpace page once in mid November but not since. I checked out her yahoo personals profile a few times but by early December I stopped hitting yahoo Personals at all. I tore down my page anyway. It got to me that she'd always come up in the top 5 of my searches. Usually as a "5 heart match". Not sure if it's ironic but it did sting a bit. I figure if she wants me to know about her life she'll call. If she doesn't - well I'm not a stalker, or a spy. Besides, no point in looking in on her. If she needed anything from me she'd be in touch wouldn't she? Or maybe her sister would actually get in touch in her stead if JAG's need was great. In any case I'm not up to reading about how cool her life is going w/o me in it. Petty maybe but we all have pettiness about us in some things. & it’s not that I don't wish her happiness, I just don't want to be a spectator if I'm not directly involved.
3 months & not a word from her. Maybe that's just the way life is, but I thought she & I had a deeper connection than that. Deep enough that if we did stop speaking it'd have been on better terms.
Something I dwell on more than I should is that I'm pretty sure she still checks out my site. My other site, the one where I'm anonymous & I don't talk about my personal life. & it's cool if she gets any enjoyment out of my scribbling but I do wonder why the hell she's hanging on to me that way. Does she actually care but just think things are too messed up to contact me at the moment? Does she feel guilty & just want to make sure I'm alive & pissed about politics? Or is she hoping to see some kind of sign from my site that she'll take as meaning it's cool to completely abandon me or to get back in touch again?
I could always ask her but A: that'd mean I'd have to approach her & B: that might make her stop dropping by.
The first is my pride. Yeah I know, goeth before a fall & all that. But man has to have some pride about his life doesn't he? Even if it's not especially a cool kind of pride, some is better than none right?
The second - as fucked up as I am I never wished harm on anyone I cared for despite their actions towards me. & even more than that I honestly want those I care for to be happy. If her reading my site brings her some kind of comfort or security or peace or happiness then I would not take that away from her.
Though I have noticed in some post over there I write as if she's my target (& perhaps sole) audience). The latter might not be too far from the truth; I get about 250 hits a day but a lot of those are search engine results leading folks to me. Any readers are better than no readers but that'd mean less than half of my traffic is deliberate. & of those that do come to me on purpose I have no idea how many are daily readers or weekly readers.
I'm just sure she hits me 4 or 5 times a week. Hell she even left a comment on another site I pointed to the other day. I recognized the way she typed, the way she phrased. Which is fucked up because that's part of why I care for her - her mind & the way she thinks. Not that she's not fine as hell – she is, but that wouldn't matter to me in her case.
So 3 months have gone by. Will it be 3 more? Or 3 more years? Or will she pull her head out of her ass only to find that I've passed on? It's not like odds are in favor of me reaching retirement age or anything. Maybe I tend to be dramatic about my own mortality but genetics & my habits are not in my favor.
In any case i am thinking of her, fondly & aggravatedly. We could have had so much fun since then, & maybe arrived at something cooler than we had. But her actions & my pride fucked that up. For the time being & perhaps eternally.
Still I'm thinking of her when I should be 2 or 3 flings distant by now. Out of all my faults, & there are many to choose from, she shouldn't ever think not caring or feeling some sort of devotion is one of them.
3 months really isn't that long, unless you miss someone deeply then it's an eternity. (yeah that was a bit dramatic but it flowed nicely as a phrase don't you think?) I'm hoping that it won't be another 3 months, or that in October of 2007 I'm able to send her an "anti-versary" e-mail like I did last July. But hoping won't accomplish much. She knows I'd like to talk & she knows I won't instigate contact. Her court, her decision, etc...
Things can only get better. Not that they will but from the ground the only direction left to go is up.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Work Related Bitching
I really don't like my job. It's not the job itself it's the bullshit involved.
I deliver pizzas. I've been doing it full time for the past 5 years or so. The work itself ain't bad as long as you don't have something else you could be doing. I do or did & it kind of gets to me at times.
The cooks play the radio too fucking loud. I keep cutting it down & they keep cutting it back up when I leave. When I'm trying to take an order it's a pain in the ass. But even when I'm not I really don't want to hear music.
I snapped at FB the other day - well not snapped but he's kind of introverted so that's how he took it. I turned the radio down & he asked why I did that so I said, "If I wanted to listen to music while I worked I'd be a fucking musician wouldn't I?" which I think sums up my discontent at the office.
But then again I haven't made any efforts since November to be a musician. Hell I haven't even picked up my guitar since November 4th. Not something I'm particularly proud of but I haven't felt the motivation. The phrase "what's the fucking point?" comes to mind every time I look at my axe.
Still it bugs me because while it being honest work it's not what I trained for or spent so many fucking years to be. I didn't miss Friday night dates to learn how to deliver fucking pizzas. Nor did I let relationships that may have been cool slide because I had to take some their fucking pie.
& when there's 3 fucking feet of snow on the ground & it's 10 damn degrees you'd think people would tip wouldn't you?
But it's aggravating. I still don't talk a work unless I have to. It's a shame because J (the driver) & I usually had some good chats, ditto for FB & I think they both think it's something against them. It's not but how do I tell them "I dig talking to you but right now I don't want to talk to anyone while I'm at this fucking place?” Well there's just telling them that but it's easier for me to just keep my mouth shut.
So I dislike my job but I'm not looking for anything else. I keep thinking of moving but I don't think I will. Not just yet anyway. No idea why. Maybe I'm hanging on to the idea that things will work out with JAG somehow? Not likely but possible. I think it's more that I lack motivation.
For a long time I did things for myself. But ever since my grandparents passed I wondered what would motivate me since I didn't have anyone to take care of. I started tending to them when I was 13. By the time I was 17 I was doing the work of a CNA with my grandfather. Anyway they passed & I had no one to care for in the physical sense. I got on with things though I admit it was a shaky start. But I had school then gigs & they kind of added a momentum. When I got out here & lost my axe I chilled. & I got used to that I guess.
Then came KS & I did take care of her in some ways. So when she bailed on me - actually I took care of her long after that - I was on my own again. & JAG - she didn't need me as much as KS did but that's what I thought was beautiful about "us". She wanted me around but wasn't co-dependent.
When she abandoned me I kind of kept going. I had Frankie to worry about I guess even though I couldn't do much for her directly.
In any case I don't have anyone to live for or care for. I'm not suicidal or anything but I just don't see the reason for putting forth any more effort than I have to if it's just going to be for my fucking self.
Call it some sort of external validation issue if you want, but I need someone that cares as a motivator. When I have that in my life or at least the potential for that I'm fine. Hell I can do great & wondrous things. But minus that - when I'm looking at growing fucking old all by me onesies then I just can't get fired up about things. Life kicks me & I stay down, perhaps take a nap.
& no; that's probably not the healthiest way to look at things but that is what I think I do. I'm a man & I handle things but why go through the hassle of moving when I can be alone & unsatisfied at work right here?
Maybe this will pass. I can't recall ever feeling quite this way before, though I recall shades of it here & there. Some stronger some weaker just never quite the same mix as I'm feeling now.
The bitch is that it's not cool for me to go out & just find someone to latch onto. I have t think that A: they care & B: they're worthy of my caring. Unfortunately right now JAG is the only candidate & - well things have been better between us.
So that's what aggravates me about work. The other stuff - well it's a bullshit job & I know it's a bullshit job & I'm used to dealing with that kind of bullshit. The little things & big things aren't a real hassle to deal with - just minor aggravations. It's why I'm still dealing with it that makes the job so dreaded at times.
There's a brightside though; only 28 more years & I can retire. :)
I deliver pizzas. I've been doing it full time for the past 5 years or so. The work itself ain't bad as long as you don't have something else you could be doing. I do or did & it kind of gets to me at times.
The cooks play the radio too fucking loud. I keep cutting it down & they keep cutting it back up when I leave. When I'm trying to take an order it's a pain in the ass. But even when I'm not I really don't want to hear music.
I snapped at FB the other day - well not snapped but he's kind of introverted so that's how he took it. I turned the radio down & he asked why I did that so I said, "If I wanted to listen to music while I worked I'd be a fucking musician wouldn't I?" which I think sums up my discontent at the office.
But then again I haven't made any efforts since November to be a musician. Hell I haven't even picked up my guitar since November 4th. Not something I'm particularly proud of but I haven't felt the motivation. The phrase "what's the fucking point?" comes to mind every time I look at my axe.
Still it bugs me because while it being honest work it's not what I trained for or spent so many fucking years to be. I didn't miss Friday night dates to learn how to deliver fucking pizzas. Nor did I let relationships that may have been cool slide because I had to take some their fucking pie.
& when there's 3 fucking feet of snow on the ground & it's 10 damn degrees you'd think people would tip wouldn't you?
But it's aggravating. I still don't talk a work unless I have to. It's a shame because J (the driver) & I usually had some good chats, ditto for FB & I think they both think it's something against them. It's not but how do I tell them "I dig talking to you but right now I don't want to talk to anyone while I'm at this fucking place?” Well there's just telling them that but it's easier for me to just keep my mouth shut.
So I dislike my job but I'm not looking for anything else. I keep thinking of moving but I don't think I will. Not just yet anyway. No idea why. Maybe I'm hanging on to the idea that things will work out with JAG somehow? Not likely but possible. I think it's more that I lack motivation.
For a long time I did things for myself. But ever since my grandparents passed I wondered what would motivate me since I didn't have anyone to take care of. I started tending to them when I was 13. By the time I was 17 I was doing the work of a CNA with my grandfather. Anyway they passed & I had no one to care for in the physical sense. I got on with things though I admit it was a shaky start. But I had school then gigs & they kind of added a momentum. When I got out here & lost my axe I chilled. & I got used to that I guess.
Then came KS & I did take care of her in some ways. So when she bailed on me - actually I took care of her long after that - I was on my own again. & JAG - she didn't need me as much as KS did but that's what I thought was beautiful about "us". She wanted me around but wasn't co-dependent.
When she abandoned me I kind of kept going. I had Frankie to worry about I guess even though I couldn't do much for her directly.
In any case I don't have anyone to live for or care for. I'm not suicidal or anything but I just don't see the reason for putting forth any more effort than I have to if it's just going to be for my fucking self.
Call it some sort of external validation issue if you want, but I need someone that cares as a motivator. When I have that in my life or at least the potential for that I'm fine. Hell I can do great & wondrous things. But minus that - when I'm looking at growing fucking old all by me onesies then I just can't get fired up about things. Life kicks me & I stay down, perhaps take a nap.
& no; that's probably not the healthiest way to look at things but that is what I think I do. I'm a man & I handle things but why go through the hassle of moving when I can be alone & unsatisfied at work right here?
Maybe this will pass. I can't recall ever feeling quite this way before, though I recall shades of it here & there. Some stronger some weaker just never quite the same mix as I'm feeling now.
The bitch is that it's not cool for me to go out & just find someone to latch onto. I have t think that A: they care & B: they're worthy of my caring. Unfortunately right now JAG is the only candidate & - well things have been better between us.
So that's what aggravates me about work. The other stuff - well it's a bullshit job & I know it's a bullshit job & I'm used to dealing with that kind of bullshit. The little things & big things aren't a real hassle to deal with - just minor aggravations. It's why I'm still dealing with it that makes the job so dreaded at times.
There's a brightside though; only 28 more years & I can retire. :)
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Why I'm Not A Musician And Other Tales
Well really it's just the one tale but it has multiple parts. I'll start with the most recent component:
I was going to go to an open jam on JAG's b-day. I had told her (albeit discreetly & cryptically & with no certainty that she got the message) that I'd be there & if she liked I'd play for her. It was a decent bar with a good band hosting the jam. It's mainly a blues jam but I grew up playing blues & it was probably going to be a cool thing. Besides I'd gotten them to do some light jazz before so if I got tired of I-IV-V's I could fall back on some Herbie Hancock or something. I got there around 10 p.m. & noticed they'd closed due to the weather. I was bummed not just because it was going to be the first time I played anything in a month & a half but because I might have been able to make JAG's b-day a little happier. That was probably the last kick while I was already on the ground but the story won't make sense until you know what went on before...
I had an audition on November 2nd. It was for a heavy old school dance band. Earth, Wind & Fire; Chaka; Prince; Kool & the Gang; etc. The cash was right & so was the calendar (it was full & I like to work as much as possible when I'm gigging). They sent me a list of about 50 tunes & without doing any practice at all I knew about 30 of them. This wasn't right up my alley; it was that little crook in the side wall of my alley. I'd been playing this stuff since some of it was top 40. & of all the styles I play this is one which I do really well at. If it's not my best then it's tied with whatever is. I played my first heavy dance band in 1989 & - well I'm getting off topic.
So they were impressed that I already knew enough tunes to get through an entire show from jump street (that's old school southern jive for "right off the bat"). The first tune we did was Kiss by Prince. This is one of the tunes I'm at my funkiest on. They were impressed. We went on to Smooth by Santana. i had taught a show band I was in how to play the damn song a few weeks after it came out - I even charted it out for them (including horn parts) so I was solid on that. The bass player kept leaning over my amp during the bridge. The second time around he looked up & grinned at the singer & said "this little scraggly motherfucker's got the right chords!". I knew I was in.
We did Brick House by the Commodores, Chameleon by Herbie Hancock & finished things up with Ain't Nobody by Chaka (a tune I do deeply dig - so much that I haven't listened to it again until tonight). I was doing a blend of the keyboard & guitar parts (since their board player couldn't make it) & again that impressed them. They dug the way I played & I didn't have any doubts that I had the gig.
I don't usually brag about things or even mention shit like that before it's solid - solid meaning I have a date on the calendar - but I called JAG on the 3rd to tell her about it cause I was psyched - she'd be seeing me really play soon & that meant something to me, almost as much as me getting to really play for anyone. I got her machine. I didn't mention anything about it in the message I left & she never called back so I can't say I jinxed myself on this one.
I went to see them play that night (the 3rd) & they were tight except their guitar player really didn't suit them. He was good but not style appropriate to what they were doing. Again I thought I was in. They said they'd holler at me when I left.
I waited a week & called them. I got the machine & haven't heard from them since.
That's the music biz. Musicians are the flightiest bunch of motherfuckers to ever feign an aptitude for business.
Since I've been out here I've had 3 gigs. All within a month back in 2003. All the other offers I've gotten the money hasn't been right. I'll take $90 per night but I like to see $100. They were talking $50 to $70. I can make more than that at entry level fast food. I didn't train as much as some fucking doctors do to make that kind of cash. So I don't play below scale.
I've done 1 benefit since I've been here. Back home I'd usually do 2 or 3 a year. One of the coolest I did was an elderly care facility where a guy who ran a band I was gigging in part time had his mother at. The other was another elderly care facility a friend from the open jams played once a week. The sincerity of their appreciation to hear live music was something I've never forgotten, & I've never been shy about doing charity work. I get more out of it than I do from most paying gigs.
But they ain't no charity in a bar. Not when a cover is being charged & whisky costs money. So if I don't get paid right I don't gig.
But the flightiness of musicians:
In 2000 I was playing with these guys - a showband doing old Beach tunes. They wanted me to play for free not just at some fucked up awards show but at a gig in a bar the night before. I registered my objections & they said if I didn't play I was gone. I swallowed my pride & played the gig. I had a bad as hell cold too, but I drove there (4 hour drive), got a room at my own fucking expense & made the gig (thanks to Theraflu tablets). They said not to sweat the awards thing cause it was lip synched anyway (another reason I didn't want to do the damn thing - I've never faked it in my whole fucking career). The sound man gave me a heads up that night that I was gone. A few days later I got a conference call from the owners of the band & I was out. This was in late November so no X-mas gigs for me. No notice outside of the sound guys discreet warning. I'd given at least two weeks notice with every band I've ever played with. Being fired outright with no notice fucked me up for a few months. I ended up leaving the state that spring but not as prepared financially as I would have liked. Sudden unemployment does that to you.
In March of 2000 I had a gig booked. Just a duo with this singer I had been working with, but it was for a fairly well connected agent. We do a decent job & he had an assload of work for us. I knew the hotel we were playing & things were looking up. The singer called me & told me he had car trouble & couldn't make it. I offered to send a cab for him but he declined. I suggested a few other solutions so he could make the gig but he just wanted to go home. I ended up not getting work in that town again for months because of having to cancel on such short notice, but I don't sing & truthfully was counting on the singer for a ride anyway.
In January of 2000 I was doing some theater work - mainly filling in for this guitarist who had another band. I showed up one night to do the gig & the band director met me outside, asked if I got their call & told me I was gone. I asked why & they said they double booked guitar players to fill in for the main guy. I talked my way into a $50 severance (that's after he pulled a fuckin' Glock on me which is another story all by its damn self – he could have at least used a real pistol) but the gig would have paid $100 as would the other half dozen gigs I had booked there. That was a blow.
In the fall of '99 I was putting together bands to play mainly short notice gigs at this bar. After about a month of being the resident guitarist they started to book me in advance. I had this tight little 4 piece blues thing booked one weekend. it was a long weekend as Halloween fell on that Sunday. Come Sunday the bar owner is there (I had been dealing with the bartender who managed the club) & she told me that they'd double booked & since we'd played two nights they were going to let the other guys play that night. The bartender was pissed because this effected her reputation & I was livid because I didn't see how the bar owner's mistake should effect our contract. In the end I talked her into paying me 3/4's of what we would have made & I paid the band what they would have made. Not a severe blow but I had counted on 3 nights of work & only got paid for 2 with rent coming up.
In the spring of '99 I was working a pool gig with this trio. Me, a phenomenal bass player, singer/sax player & a drum machine (I'm not proud of it but a pool gig is a pool gig). I spent hours getting the right patterns for the drum machine & I was controlling it for the first few weeks (until the bass player wanted to play with it). The singer/sax player was an alright guy as long as you weren't doing business with him. For some reason he didn't care for me. Anyway he was mediocre at best & his timing was always off. No biggie except he blamed me for it (& I checked with the bass player who was a better musician than I was & he agreed that my timing was solid; it was the singer/sax player's that was off). That was even cool until he told me he was going to knock my pay down from $90 a day to $75 till I fixed my timing problems. I told him I needed a two weeks notice before he touched my pay & he agreed so I immediately put in my two weeks notice. I wasn't going to play that far below scale for a fucking pool gig. But because of his being an ass (he gave an unsolicited bad recommendation of me to a band I was talking to a few weeks later) I didn't have a meaningful gig for the rest of the summer. I hadn't looked because I had something sown up & by the time I was looking at a two week notice everything had been taken except the one band that he talked into turning me down.
In early '99 I had the same house gig I had a few months before. Thing about house gigs is they're cool while they last but if you don't get a month's notice then you're out of work as most bars book at least a month in advance. We played Wednesday through Saturday. One Saturday the bar owner walked in & told us we were out & had to have our equipment out of the club by that Tuesday. We ended up not working for about 6 weeks.
In late '98 I was living with GAvO. I had a house gig 4 nights a week & things were alright. I got a phone call from a cruise ship band. They wanted me to do a few months with them. The cash was right & everything sounded cool. I should note that when they called the first question they asked me wasn't about how I played or how I worked. They said, "are you cute?". Of course I lied my ass off - hell yeah I'm cute. :)
Anyway the plan was GAvO would move into a one bedroom place & I'd store my stuff with her, hitting her couch a few weeks out of the year. I sold my car, gave notice with my band & was two weeks away from jumping a bus to Miami. The night I gave my notice they called & asked if I could sing Sinatra. I said nope. They said that they had a change in venue & didn't need a guitar player anymore but needed someone who could sing Sinatra & since I couldn't then the offer was withdrawn.
Needless to say that fucked me up in more ways than one. None of them pleasantly.
In early ‘98 I was playing with this guy mainly doing duo work. I knew the manager at a hotel where he was playing & talked them into expanding their Sunday budget so I could do the gig with him instead of him just doing a solo act. I knew what the cash was; he was getting $150 as a single. They gave him $300 to make it a double. At the end of he first gig I'm expecting $150. I got $100. He reasoned since he owned the PA he should get more. Turns out he'd been doing that to me with every fucking gig we played. A few weeks after that he gave me a two week notice that I was out, which was decent of him. It should have been expected but considering how other musicians are it was a cool thing amidst an uncool thing. But still it left me gigless for a while.
In '96 I was playing for this guy on salary. I was thinking of moving to L.A. to hang w/ my girl SD but wanted to save some cash before hitting Cali. Well things were going alright till July & August, when we lost two weeks of work to hurricanes & another couple of weeks the band leader told us that we "didn't make salary". Didn't make salary? I think the concept of salary escaped him but nevertheless we were out cash. About a month's pay in all & that was a hit that I couldn't just get over very quickly. Cali was out by that point anyway.
In ‘96 earlier in the year I'd busted my ass to get my passport. Why? The guys I was playing with had some connections & a mini-tour of Israel was planned. It fell through.
In ‘95 I drove 4 hours to audition at a resort. My whole band did actually. We thought we had things sown up & were getting ready to move. 2 weeks before we were supposed to start playing (& two weeks after we'd given notice where we lived, etc...) the band director called us over to his place. He was in tears cause he got a call early that morning saying the deal was off.
Again fucked up plans.
I could go on but it'd not be too different in direction than what I've laid out so far. Looking back I can't say the music biz has been great to me. I've had some really cool gigs & played some really nice places with some really hot bands & seen appreciation from my audience. & the traveling was cool (when it wasn't a curse). But I've been doing this bullshit since I was 15. I've played for people & ran my own bands. It takes some motivation to brave the bullshit that the music biz entails & after the last bit of professional rejection I just can't say I have that motivation. I might get it back one day but for now I'm - well I'm not cool with not playing, but I'm more than cool with not dealing with musicians.
Still I miss the playing so I know it'll just be a matter of time before I succumb to the temptation to give it another try. I don't know if that makes me admirably persistent or pitifully foolish. Maybe musicians have to be both? & maybe one day I'll be a musician again. Just not today.
I was going to go to an open jam on JAG's b-day. I had told her (albeit discreetly & cryptically & with no certainty that she got the message) that I'd be there & if she liked I'd play for her. It was a decent bar with a good band hosting the jam. It's mainly a blues jam but I grew up playing blues & it was probably going to be a cool thing. Besides I'd gotten them to do some light jazz before so if I got tired of I-IV-V's I could fall back on some Herbie Hancock or something. I got there around 10 p.m. & noticed they'd closed due to the weather. I was bummed not just because it was going to be the first time I played anything in a month & a half but because I might have been able to make JAG's b-day a little happier. That was probably the last kick while I was already on the ground but the story won't make sense until you know what went on before...
I had an audition on November 2nd. It was for a heavy old school dance band. Earth, Wind & Fire; Chaka; Prince; Kool & the Gang; etc. The cash was right & so was the calendar (it was full & I like to work as much as possible when I'm gigging). They sent me a list of about 50 tunes & without doing any practice at all I knew about 30 of them. This wasn't right up my alley; it was that little crook in the side wall of my alley. I'd been playing this stuff since some of it was top 40. & of all the styles I play this is one which I do really well at. If it's not my best then it's tied with whatever is. I played my first heavy dance band in 1989 & - well I'm getting off topic.
So they were impressed that I already knew enough tunes to get through an entire show from jump street (that's old school southern jive for "right off the bat"). The first tune we did was Kiss by Prince. This is one of the tunes I'm at my funkiest on. They were impressed. We went on to Smooth by Santana. i had taught a show band I was in how to play the damn song a few weeks after it came out - I even charted it out for them (including horn parts) so I was solid on that. The bass player kept leaning over my amp during the bridge. The second time around he looked up & grinned at the singer & said "this little scraggly motherfucker's got the right chords!". I knew I was in.
We did Brick House by the Commodores, Chameleon by Herbie Hancock & finished things up with Ain't Nobody by Chaka (a tune I do deeply dig - so much that I haven't listened to it again until tonight). I was doing a blend of the keyboard & guitar parts (since their board player couldn't make it) & again that impressed them. They dug the way I played & I didn't have any doubts that I had the gig.
I don't usually brag about things or even mention shit like that before it's solid - solid meaning I have a date on the calendar - but I called JAG on the 3rd to tell her about it cause I was psyched - she'd be seeing me really play soon & that meant something to me, almost as much as me getting to really play for anyone. I got her machine. I didn't mention anything about it in the message I left & she never called back so I can't say I jinxed myself on this one.
I went to see them play that night (the 3rd) & they were tight except their guitar player really didn't suit them. He was good but not style appropriate to what they were doing. Again I thought I was in. They said they'd holler at me when I left.
I waited a week & called them. I got the machine & haven't heard from them since.
That's the music biz. Musicians are the flightiest bunch of motherfuckers to ever feign an aptitude for business.
Since I've been out here I've had 3 gigs. All within a month back in 2003. All the other offers I've gotten the money hasn't been right. I'll take $90 per night but I like to see $100. They were talking $50 to $70. I can make more than that at entry level fast food. I didn't train as much as some fucking doctors do to make that kind of cash. So I don't play below scale.
I've done 1 benefit since I've been here. Back home I'd usually do 2 or 3 a year. One of the coolest I did was an elderly care facility where a guy who ran a band I was gigging in part time had his mother at. The other was another elderly care facility a friend from the open jams played once a week. The sincerity of their appreciation to hear live music was something I've never forgotten, & I've never been shy about doing charity work. I get more out of it than I do from most paying gigs.
But they ain't no charity in a bar. Not when a cover is being charged & whisky costs money. So if I don't get paid right I don't gig.
But the flightiness of musicians:
In 2000 I was playing with these guys - a showband doing old Beach tunes. They wanted me to play for free not just at some fucked up awards show but at a gig in a bar the night before. I registered my objections & they said if I didn't play I was gone. I swallowed my pride & played the gig. I had a bad as hell cold too, but I drove there (4 hour drive), got a room at my own fucking expense & made the gig (thanks to Theraflu tablets). They said not to sweat the awards thing cause it was lip synched anyway (another reason I didn't want to do the damn thing - I've never faked it in my whole fucking career). The sound man gave me a heads up that night that I was gone. A few days later I got a conference call from the owners of the band & I was out. This was in late November so no X-mas gigs for me. No notice outside of the sound guys discreet warning. I'd given at least two weeks notice with every band I've ever played with. Being fired outright with no notice fucked me up for a few months. I ended up leaving the state that spring but not as prepared financially as I would have liked. Sudden unemployment does that to you.
In March of 2000 I had a gig booked. Just a duo with this singer I had been working with, but it was for a fairly well connected agent. We do a decent job & he had an assload of work for us. I knew the hotel we were playing & things were looking up. The singer called me & told me he had car trouble & couldn't make it. I offered to send a cab for him but he declined. I suggested a few other solutions so he could make the gig but he just wanted to go home. I ended up not getting work in that town again for months because of having to cancel on such short notice, but I don't sing & truthfully was counting on the singer for a ride anyway.
In January of 2000 I was doing some theater work - mainly filling in for this guitarist who had another band. I showed up one night to do the gig & the band director met me outside, asked if I got their call & told me I was gone. I asked why & they said they double booked guitar players to fill in for the main guy. I talked my way into a $50 severance (that's after he pulled a fuckin' Glock on me which is another story all by its damn self – he could have at least used a real pistol) but the gig would have paid $100 as would the other half dozen gigs I had booked there. That was a blow.
In the fall of '99 I was putting together bands to play mainly short notice gigs at this bar. After about a month of being the resident guitarist they started to book me in advance. I had this tight little 4 piece blues thing booked one weekend. it was a long weekend as Halloween fell on that Sunday. Come Sunday the bar owner is there (I had been dealing with the bartender who managed the club) & she told me that they'd double booked & since we'd played two nights they were going to let the other guys play that night. The bartender was pissed because this effected her reputation & I was livid because I didn't see how the bar owner's mistake should effect our contract. In the end I talked her into paying me 3/4's of what we would have made & I paid the band what they would have made. Not a severe blow but I had counted on 3 nights of work & only got paid for 2 with rent coming up.
In the spring of '99 I was working a pool gig with this trio. Me, a phenomenal bass player, singer/sax player & a drum machine (I'm not proud of it but a pool gig is a pool gig). I spent hours getting the right patterns for the drum machine & I was controlling it for the first few weeks (until the bass player wanted to play with it). The singer/sax player was an alright guy as long as you weren't doing business with him. For some reason he didn't care for me. Anyway he was mediocre at best & his timing was always off. No biggie except he blamed me for it (& I checked with the bass player who was a better musician than I was & he agreed that my timing was solid; it was the singer/sax player's that was off). That was even cool until he told me he was going to knock my pay down from $90 a day to $75 till I fixed my timing problems. I told him I needed a two weeks notice before he touched my pay & he agreed so I immediately put in my two weeks notice. I wasn't going to play that far below scale for a fucking pool gig. But because of his being an ass (he gave an unsolicited bad recommendation of me to a band I was talking to a few weeks later) I didn't have a meaningful gig for the rest of the summer. I hadn't looked because I had something sown up & by the time I was looking at a two week notice everything had been taken except the one band that he talked into turning me down.
In early '99 I had the same house gig I had a few months before. Thing about house gigs is they're cool while they last but if you don't get a month's notice then you're out of work as most bars book at least a month in advance. We played Wednesday through Saturday. One Saturday the bar owner walked in & told us we were out & had to have our equipment out of the club by that Tuesday. We ended up not working for about 6 weeks.
In late '98 I was living with GAvO. I had a house gig 4 nights a week & things were alright. I got a phone call from a cruise ship band. They wanted me to do a few months with them. The cash was right & everything sounded cool. I should note that when they called the first question they asked me wasn't about how I played or how I worked. They said, "are you cute?". Of course I lied my ass off - hell yeah I'm cute. :)
Anyway the plan was GAvO would move into a one bedroom place & I'd store my stuff with her, hitting her couch a few weeks out of the year. I sold my car, gave notice with my band & was two weeks away from jumping a bus to Miami. The night I gave my notice they called & asked if I could sing Sinatra. I said nope. They said that they had a change in venue & didn't need a guitar player anymore but needed someone who could sing Sinatra & since I couldn't then the offer was withdrawn.
Needless to say that fucked me up in more ways than one. None of them pleasantly.
In early ‘98 I was playing with this guy mainly doing duo work. I knew the manager at a hotel where he was playing & talked them into expanding their Sunday budget so I could do the gig with him instead of him just doing a solo act. I knew what the cash was; he was getting $150 as a single. They gave him $300 to make it a double. At the end of he first gig I'm expecting $150. I got $100. He reasoned since he owned the PA he should get more. Turns out he'd been doing that to me with every fucking gig we played. A few weeks after that he gave me a two week notice that I was out, which was decent of him. It should have been expected but considering how other musicians are it was a cool thing amidst an uncool thing. But still it left me gigless for a while.
In '96 I was playing for this guy on salary. I was thinking of moving to L.A. to hang w/ my girl SD but wanted to save some cash before hitting Cali. Well things were going alright till July & August, when we lost two weeks of work to hurricanes & another couple of weeks the band leader told us that we "didn't make salary". Didn't make salary? I think the concept of salary escaped him but nevertheless we were out cash. About a month's pay in all & that was a hit that I couldn't just get over very quickly. Cali was out by that point anyway.
In ‘96 earlier in the year I'd busted my ass to get my passport. Why? The guys I was playing with had some connections & a mini-tour of Israel was planned. It fell through.
In ‘95 I drove 4 hours to audition at a resort. My whole band did actually. We thought we had things sown up & were getting ready to move. 2 weeks before we were supposed to start playing (& two weeks after we'd given notice where we lived, etc...) the band director called us over to his place. He was in tears cause he got a call early that morning saying the deal was off.
Again fucked up plans.
I could go on but it'd not be too different in direction than what I've laid out so far. Looking back I can't say the music biz has been great to me. I've had some really cool gigs & played some really nice places with some really hot bands & seen appreciation from my audience. & the traveling was cool (when it wasn't a curse). But I've been doing this bullshit since I was 15. I've played for people & ran my own bands. It takes some motivation to brave the bullshit that the music biz entails & after the last bit of professional rejection I just can't say I have that motivation. I might get it back one day but for now I'm - well I'm not cool with not playing, but I'm more than cool with not dealing with musicians.
Still I miss the playing so I know it'll just be a matter of time before I succumb to the temptation to give it another try. I don't know if that makes me admirably persistent or pitifully foolish. Maybe musicians have to be both? & maybe one day I'll be a musician again. Just not today.
Friday, January 5, 2007
Angel
Sarah Mclachlan. Here's the vid set to a slideshow about those fallen in battle.
I miss Frankie. On my b-day was about the only time I could expect her to call. She’d call randomly throughout the year but most of the time it was her getting Danny to call then once I was on the line she'd talk to me. But on my b-day she'd call direct.
That's another reason why I needed to hear from JAG on my b-day, but it seems she wasn't there for me.
You know I still miss my friggin' grandparents. It’s not an everyday thing but when they pass through my mind I feel the little "ache" that's left from the big ache I had right after they respectively passed. He's been gone almost 17 years & she's been gone just over 14.
This is why I don't have a cat of my own. When I care I tend to care deeply & when the loss hits it's - well you probably know. I get attached to cats. It’s not as bad as humans but it’s bad enough.
& I like cats damn it. KS's cats were probably my best pals for a long time. & JAG's cat - we never spent a whole lot of time together but I liked the furry little leg scratcher. When I saw JAG's cat for the first time in about a year & a half she comes running up to me meowing loud & rubbing on my shin. JAG told me she only does that when the cat is mad at her for being gone too long. At the time I thought it was cool & might just give JAG an intellectual reason to let me be in her life & her be in mine. Maybe I just do better with cats than people.
But Frankie - we were never really close. Not like a mother & son should be. That was as much my fault as hers I reckon. But still I knew the woman my whole life. Actually a little bit longer than that. I never looked to her for comfort or reassurance because she'd likely as not denied it if I'd have asked but there was a comfort in talking to her. Even when she was chewing me out over something she thought I'd done wrong. Or maybe that on reflection her absence makes me miss the arguments? I dunno.
My problems with JAG weren't due to Frankie's passing. But the way Frankie & I were when she was alive had something to do with it. Or more precisely the things I learned from Frankie effected how I dealt with JAG & everyone else before her. Not in such a way to directly cause anything to end, but enough to influence things for the worse at times.
JAG could have helped me through it though; not the directness of Frankie's passing, but the indirectness of the way Frankie & I lived. I just needed someone to care; to show it; to demonstrate that they weren't going to bail & they'd give me a little emotional support if I needed it. Maybe I'll write more about that later when I'm not so tired & bummed.
I hate missing people; especially ones I care for. The only bright side is with JAG there's still a chance at reconciliation. Not a great one but as long as she & I are alive then in theory we could talk about things. The rift Frankie & I had can't ever be repaired because she's gone.
I miss them both. For different reasons & in different ways but the basic sense of loss is still there. I'll get used to it over time but right now it hurts.
I'm going to go try to sleep it off, maybe at least dream about the people & felines I can't touch anymore, but who still touch me.
I miss Frankie. On my b-day was about the only time I could expect her to call. She’d call randomly throughout the year but most of the time it was her getting Danny to call then once I was on the line she'd talk to me. But on my b-day she'd call direct.
That's another reason why I needed to hear from JAG on my b-day, but it seems she wasn't there for me.
You know I still miss my friggin' grandparents. It’s not an everyday thing but when they pass through my mind I feel the little "ache" that's left from the big ache I had right after they respectively passed. He's been gone almost 17 years & she's been gone just over 14.
This is why I don't have a cat of my own. When I care I tend to care deeply & when the loss hits it's - well you probably know. I get attached to cats. It’s not as bad as humans but it’s bad enough.
& I like cats damn it. KS's cats were probably my best pals for a long time. & JAG's cat - we never spent a whole lot of time together but I liked the furry little leg scratcher. When I saw JAG's cat for the first time in about a year & a half she comes running up to me meowing loud & rubbing on my shin. JAG told me she only does that when the cat is mad at her for being gone too long. At the time I thought it was cool & might just give JAG an intellectual reason to let me be in her life & her be in mine. Maybe I just do better with cats than people.
But Frankie - we were never really close. Not like a mother & son should be. That was as much my fault as hers I reckon. But still I knew the woman my whole life. Actually a little bit longer than that. I never looked to her for comfort or reassurance because she'd likely as not denied it if I'd have asked but there was a comfort in talking to her. Even when she was chewing me out over something she thought I'd done wrong. Or maybe that on reflection her absence makes me miss the arguments? I dunno.
My problems with JAG weren't due to Frankie's passing. But the way Frankie & I were when she was alive had something to do with it. Or more precisely the things I learned from Frankie effected how I dealt with JAG & everyone else before her. Not in such a way to directly cause anything to end, but enough to influence things for the worse at times.
JAG could have helped me through it though; not the directness of Frankie's passing, but the indirectness of the way Frankie & I lived. I just needed someone to care; to show it; to demonstrate that they weren't going to bail & they'd give me a little emotional support if I needed it. Maybe I'll write more about that later when I'm not so tired & bummed.
I hate missing people; especially ones I care for. The only bright side is with JAG there's still a chance at reconciliation. Not a great one but as long as she & I are alive then in theory we could talk about things. The rift Frankie & I had can't ever be repaired because she's gone.
I miss them both. For different reasons & in different ways but the basic sense of loss is still there. I'll get used to it over time but right now it hurts.
I'm going to go try to sleep it off, maybe at least dream about the people & felines I can't touch anymore, but who still touch me.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
I have 3 beers in my fridge. I don't drink beer. Never have.
I bought them on November 3rd. They're a Russian import called Baltica. I bought them for her for my b-day.
I screwed around a little that day. I went shooting which I hadn't done in forever, then drove around the mountains for a spell & headed back home. I stopped by Joe's Crab Shack & blew I forget how much on a to-go order. I bought enough for two.
I never ate it. The beers still sit in my fridge, as does the coffee I bought in September (I don’t' drink coffee either).
At 10 p.m. I opened the doors to air out the place. After freezing my ass off for 30 minutes I closed the house tight & cranked the heat way up. I lit candles & lamps & had the music engine on something chill.
I had invited her over & thought i stressed that it was real important to me. I'd talked with her before about how my b-day was something important to me. Since I never heard back from her I assumed we were on.
She had a clinical (she's a nursing student) & wouldn't be out till about 11:30p.m. By 12:30 a.m. I called her & left a brief message. By 1 a.m. I called again I left a slightly longer one that was a tad distraught. By 3 a.m. I was tore up.
She wrote the next day saying I expected too much from her & that she was only a friend & that she thought I was crazy for thinking she could have made it. She went on to list all the things she had going on (mostly school related) & how stressed she was & as an after thought mentioned that maybe she should have told me she didn't plan on coming.
I didn't reply. What the fuck could I say? It was obvious she didn't give a damn, even as a friend.
To be fair I wouldn't have been happy but if she'd have just fucking called to wish me a happy b-day I would have been in better shape. If she could have made it over for 15 minutes that's all I'd have needed. It wasn’t about getting laid - it was just about knowing someone I cared about cared fucking back - cared enough to put forth a little effort on my b-day.
Hell I went out of my way for her on hers & would have gone further - & she was dating someone else at the time.
If she couldn't have made it over she could have invited me over there. Again only 15 minutes or so would have been cool enough. & if for some fucked up unconceivable reason she couldn't have made it she could have at least called - not to tell me she wasn't coming but just to say, "hey - i can't make it & I know that disappoints you but I'm thinking fondly of you & want you to have fun. happy b-day & sometime next week I'll try to make some time to see you & we'll celebrate it then". It'd have taken all of 5 minutes to call & say that.
That's what fucked me up; the girl I thought cared acted like she didn't. It's still hard to imagine that she doesn't but what other conclusion can I come to, or at least act upon?
But I haven't acted upon it. I haven't slept with anyone but her since early August - when she came around again. I turned down 3 women from August till late October. That'd be cool & all but I haven't seen her since October 20th. I've turned down a couple since then. I tried getting back into the game & for about two weeks I was hitting the dating sites & going about my usual routine, but when I came close to meeting someone I backed off.
I just don't want anyone but her. It's not the way she looks or the way she fucks or any of that - it's just something about her. I love her mind; the way she thinks & talks & doesn't talk & types. The way she moves& the way she... you get the idea. Physically she's beautiful but she could gain 100 pounds & be disfigured & I'd still feel the same about her. & I don't know why - it's all out of proportion to the sum of her parts, but that's just the way it is.
Even after she dissed me on my b-day I still care for her & want to work things out somehow. Not that I see much hope in that, but I'm just not moving on yet. I should be 2 or 3 flings past her by now but I'm just not motivated. About anything really. I work, come home & write a little & eat. That's about it. & I talk to myself a lot, but not too many real people hear my voice these days. At work they're used to it by now. If I speak it's because it's absolutely necessary. I admit it freaked them out at first but I think they either understand or don't let it bother them anymore as long as I do my job.
My fucking job. That's another rant.
But that's the event that caused me to stumble. A little girl disregarded me & now I'm disregarding myself.
I mean hell I lived with KS for years - dated her longer than all the other women in my life combined & she cared, but she never really loved me. With JAG I felt more caring slip from her than I'd felt from anyone in ages. I'd have bet money that she loved me on some basic level. She cared as a friend & was attracted to me. Mingled with some sort of respect or admiration & that's my simplest definition of love.
But if KS couldn't love me after years of knowing me, & JAG couldn't give a damn about me after us knowing each other so intimately, then who the fuck can?
I dunno. I know why I'm taking all this so hard & it has a lot to do with some baggage I didn’t realize I had but knowing why something happened isn’t much of a consolation if you can't act to correct things.
& ya know I never wanted anything more than for JAG & I to have a chance. I didn't think anything was set in stone or it was guaranteed to work, I just thought if we both tried it was worth seeing what happened. It hurts that I've lost her, not just cause I cared for her as a friend or lover or potential g/f, but because I cared for her.
& I have a whole week off of work to dwell on this like I know I will. I needed a vacation anyway but I still see it as wasted time - time she & I could spend having fun. I guess that's the downside of being a romantic. Or being sentimental. Or being semi-mental.
If you've made it this far through my whining you deserve a treat. Here's the Elton John vid. & yes; things can only get better, but that's no consolation for losing her like this. Or for losing myself.
I bought them on November 3rd. They're a Russian import called Baltica. I bought them for her for my b-day.
I screwed around a little that day. I went shooting which I hadn't done in forever, then drove around the mountains for a spell & headed back home. I stopped by Joe's Crab Shack & blew I forget how much on a to-go order. I bought enough for two.
I never ate it. The beers still sit in my fridge, as does the coffee I bought in September (I don’t' drink coffee either).
At 10 p.m. I opened the doors to air out the place. After freezing my ass off for 30 minutes I closed the house tight & cranked the heat way up. I lit candles & lamps & had the music engine on something chill.
I had invited her over & thought i stressed that it was real important to me. I'd talked with her before about how my b-day was something important to me. Since I never heard back from her I assumed we were on.
She had a clinical (she's a nursing student) & wouldn't be out till about 11:30p.m. By 12:30 a.m. I called her & left a brief message. By 1 a.m. I called again I left a slightly longer one that was a tad distraught. By 3 a.m. I was tore up.
She wrote the next day saying I expected too much from her & that she was only a friend & that she thought I was crazy for thinking she could have made it. She went on to list all the things she had going on (mostly school related) & how stressed she was & as an after thought mentioned that maybe she should have told me she didn't plan on coming.
I didn't reply. What the fuck could I say? It was obvious she didn't give a damn, even as a friend.
To be fair I wouldn't have been happy but if she'd have just fucking called to wish me a happy b-day I would have been in better shape. If she could have made it over for 15 minutes that's all I'd have needed. It wasn’t about getting laid - it was just about knowing someone I cared about cared fucking back - cared enough to put forth a little effort on my b-day.
Hell I went out of my way for her on hers & would have gone further - & she was dating someone else at the time.
If she couldn't have made it over she could have invited me over there. Again only 15 minutes or so would have been cool enough. & if for some fucked up unconceivable reason she couldn't have made it she could have at least called - not to tell me she wasn't coming but just to say, "hey - i can't make it & I know that disappoints you but I'm thinking fondly of you & want you to have fun. happy b-day & sometime next week I'll try to make some time to see you & we'll celebrate it then". It'd have taken all of 5 minutes to call & say that.
That's what fucked me up; the girl I thought cared acted like she didn't. It's still hard to imagine that she doesn't but what other conclusion can I come to, or at least act upon?
But I haven't acted upon it. I haven't slept with anyone but her since early August - when she came around again. I turned down 3 women from August till late October. That'd be cool & all but I haven't seen her since October 20th. I've turned down a couple since then. I tried getting back into the game & for about two weeks I was hitting the dating sites & going about my usual routine, but when I came close to meeting someone I backed off.
I just don't want anyone but her. It's not the way she looks or the way she fucks or any of that - it's just something about her. I love her mind; the way she thinks & talks & doesn't talk & types. The way she moves& the way she... you get the idea. Physically she's beautiful but she could gain 100 pounds & be disfigured & I'd still feel the same about her. & I don't know why - it's all out of proportion to the sum of her parts, but that's just the way it is.
Even after she dissed me on my b-day I still care for her & want to work things out somehow. Not that I see much hope in that, but I'm just not moving on yet. I should be 2 or 3 flings past her by now but I'm just not motivated. About anything really. I work, come home & write a little & eat. That's about it. & I talk to myself a lot, but not too many real people hear my voice these days. At work they're used to it by now. If I speak it's because it's absolutely necessary. I admit it freaked them out at first but I think they either understand or don't let it bother them anymore as long as I do my job.
My fucking job. That's another rant.
But that's the event that caused me to stumble. A little girl disregarded me & now I'm disregarding myself.
I mean hell I lived with KS for years - dated her longer than all the other women in my life combined & she cared, but she never really loved me. With JAG I felt more caring slip from her than I'd felt from anyone in ages. I'd have bet money that she loved me on some basic level. She cared as a friend & was attracted to me. Mingled with some sort of respect or admiration & that's my simplest definition of love.
But if KS couldn't love me after years of knowing me, & JAG couldn't give a damn about me after us knowing each other so intimately, then who the fuck can?
I dunno. I know why I'm taking all this so hard & it has a lot to do with some baggage I didn’t realize I had but knowing why something happened isn’t much of a consolation if you can't act to correct things.
& ya know I never wanted anything more than for JAG & I to have a chance. I didn't think anything was set in stone or it was guaranteed to work, I just thought if we both tried it was worth seeing what happened. It hurts that I've lost her, not just cause I cared for her as a friend or lover or potential g/f, but because I cared for her.
& I have a whole week off of work to dwell on this like I know I will. I needed a vacation anyway but I still see it as wasted time - time she & I could spend having fun. I guess that's the downside of being a romantic. Or being sentimental. Or being semi-mental.
If you've made it this far through my whining you deserve a treat. Here's the Elton John vid. & yes; things can only get better, but that's no consolation for losing her like this. Or for losing myself.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Tunes
It's tricky to listen to music. When I'm doing a post I'll have the one song I'm focusing on playing over & over again. Other than that I've been avoiding tunes. At work I try to keep the radio turned down. In the car I had it on the "all Christmas all the time" station. For some reason the X-mas tunes were fairly harmless. But now the station has reverted back to its pre-X-mas format. At least I have the week off from work to get used to not having the X-mas station to rely on (I usually take the first week of January off whether I need to or not).
I love music. I'm constantly in & out of love with it but I love it. But I just can't deal with listening to it for some reason. Maybe it was always some sort of emotional crutch for me & I just don't want to lean on it right now. Or maybe I'm just getting grumpy in my old age.
There are a very few people out of a few million who don't dig music at all. An even smaller number gets some sort of discomfort from it. The rest of folks like it to some degree or another. I made my life of it for a very long time, so it's kind of ironic that now I'm denying that to myself.
I'll snap out of it at some point. I love music too much to abandon it forever. But for now the tunes are at a minimum around the house & car.
I love music. I'm constantly in & out of love with it but I love it. But I just can't deal with listening to it for some reason. Maybe it was always some sort of emotional crutch for me & I just don't want to lean on it right now. Or maybe I'm just getting grumpy in my old age.
There are a very few people out of a few million who don't dig music at all. An even smaller number gets some sort of discomfort from it. The rest of folks like it to some degree or another. I made my life of it for a very long time, so it's kind of ironic that now I'm denying that to myself.
I'll snap out of it at some point. I love music too much to abandon it forever. But for now the tunes are at a minimum around the house & car.
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