Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Our lives are changing lanes, you ran me off the road... 

So, I've not posted anything on this blog for way too long. So I've decided to jumpstart it with a post that originally appeared on what I guess was my Dead Journal (yes, I had one of those because I thought Live Journal was lame, but then I ended up with one of those, too, as I was trying to hide from the women I wrote about who didn't love me.)

This entry was written about a woman who is now married (as a good chunk of my former paramours (real and imagined) are now bound to another in matrimonial endeavors, this doesn't really narrow the realm of possibility or illuminate the subject), and whom I never went on a date with (I seemingly had one opportunity to do so, and I blew it off), though I did once make an overture (well, if she knew it was an overture, she blew it off; otherwise, it was perhaps more of an underture) which I believe to have been too subtle. I remain convinced that the right woman for me would have understood the symbolism of the gift involved.

4:56am 02/03/2004 
mood: confused
music: Ben Folds Five "Brick"

Yeah, so I've been living inside myself lately. So much going on in my mind, and so little free time to let it all out in the ways I would like to. I really enjoyed letting off some steam playing a set as Caroline's Pneumatic Drapery with Matt, Andre, Dallow and Nick. Just like 6 years ago except noisier and more brutal. It was very cathartic, and you can never go wrong playing "Mary Had a Little Lamb" to the tune of "Dance To The Underground." I need a better schedule to make use of my nights more productively, as working from 7pm until 7am just really messes things up. It's so hard to catch up if I fall behind - with friends, housework, record label stuff...It's 5am now and I need to go to sleep.

On the way home from bowling tonight, while I was getting crazy to Death Cab For Cutie, I was thinking how I should write music and play guitar when I got home...but I just sat and watched tv after eating a slice of meatloaf sandwiched between 2 chicken cutlets on whole wheat bread with spicy vidalia onion dressing instead of mayonnaise...In fact, I was half asleep on the couch two hours ago, but here I am, semi-awake at 5am. And I really need to get some sleep so I can wake up early to get a lot done tomorrow. Not only do I have things to take care of for myself, but for 7 others in the two bands I've released music by, the other bands i intend to work with, and two other performers who are traveling great distances to play Long Island (why? dunno) at the end of the month who need confirmation of a venue.

Emotionally, I've gone through a lot, too...all on the inside. I've made peace with a lot of my recent stumbling past, and realized these scenarios are for the best. But that's not all...this one semi-crush i've had on someone for about three years is starting to take over, thereby dashing my hopes to be blissfully happy by ignoring such things while keeping myself insanely busy with work and the record label, etc. I toss and turn in my bed waking up or trying to sleep going over the scenes in my head that could transpire.

I wish the movie of my life had a better screenwriter, because the more I think about such encounters, the more likely I am to try something zany and blow it, but not in a cute, "Ed" sort of way that ends with him marrying Carol Vessey at the end of the show's run. My three year (non)pursuit of this one person is probably so hidden below the surface that aside from the two people who I've told, I bet nobody else has a clue, least of all her. I did, however read an interesting horoscope thing about how the person will probably grow weary and impatient of waiting around for me to make a move. So, if it is obvious to her, then I must look like a freakin' douchebag. I mean, I don't have the best poker face, and oftentimes, when I am trying to impress someone, I get all quiet because I'm afraid to say something stupid and then wish I had a gun to shoot myself in the foot with to lighten the mood.

I don't even know if the person in question reads this...not just because of my hopping around online locations for writing stuff, but also because of my less and less frequent updates. It's so hard for me lately to sit in front of this machine and write down my thoughts...not that I've written a whole lot down in my paper journal lately, either. I just kinda feel like I've been there before. That I've felt it all, done it all and lost it all too many times before to care. This time, however, I realize that I don't care so much about this person disliking what is probably my favorite band, so much as that I need someone with her sense of humor and on the wavelength she is at...someone who will "get it" if I say something random and weird, or liberally quote George Carlin for days at a time.

Someone who knows what I'm referring to when I blurt out a line from a sketch in "The Kids In the Hall." I just feel stupid because for the past 6 months to a year, I've been fine and witty with the repartee via email and IM, but in person, the 3 or so times we've hung out in crowds or the couple of times on the phone, I've been like a dead fish with no mouth. I had even hung up the phone wishing I had hung up before letting things go so quiet. Sometimes, the radio DJ in me just screams "DEAD AIR BAD!" and the silence makes my brain attack itself. I just want to tell her that if she's so intent on dating someone, she should date me. But I know that these words will never pass my lips, at least not in a way that makes me sound cool or collected.

I can identify all too well with the awkward social retardation of Ross Geller on "Friends" as perfectly portrayed by David Schwimmer. Those noises have emanated from my cake-hole before. After all, I am a man who morphed into Columbo just trying to ask someone to hang out, proceeding to ramble on about the game "Mousetrap." In ancient times, I think the procedure of trephining was invented out of a society's overwhelming desire to shut the stinking traps of people afflicted with whatever brain malfunction/ verbal diarrhea disorder I have. I can do nothing but apologize to all of you who have been humoring me all these years, letting me believe that I am sane. No matter how much I loved cake, I've never had to ride the short bus.