Saturday, November 14, 2009

I'm bored of cheap and cheerful, I want expensive sadness

I would be better off
Alone and Lonely
Than awash in this sea of faces

He buys me a drink
What’s his name again?
Ted, Sam, Mike, Steve
Does it matter?

The vodka bites at my tongue
It tickles my throat
He’s saying something I can’t hear
A droning noise fills my ears

He’s complimenting me
He’d turn away if he read my thoughts
If he knew I was thinking
Could he hit me?
Would he?

A sharp slap across my cheek
A purpling bruise tomorrow
Would it change anything?

Would the bright taste of blood,
The quick sting of pain
Wash the apathy away
Leaving anger in it’s wake
Some other emotion
Any impression at all

Displacing the numbness
Replacing the emptiness

Just for a second
A minute
An hour
Would it make it leave

Thursday, November 12, 2009

C'mon and save me, Why don't you save me, If you could save me . . .

He came later than usual tonight. Not that there's a "usual" time, per se. Just a general observation I've made. When there wasn't a soft knock on the door by 7:30, I inhaled sharply and tried to decide what I felt. Was this what I wanted? Some part of me must have decided that it was and my breath whooshed out in a long sigh. It's best this way.

But at 8:32 his soft knock echoed loudly through the house. His hair was still wet from a shower. He looked unsure and a little flustered, but his eyes lit up when they met mine. I kept my hand on the handle of the glass door just a second too long. He could see I was debating letting him in or not. "Please. It's been a long day."

I opened the door.

"Sorry I'm late. We got a call just as my shift was ending. It was a bad one, Meghan. . . . " I listened as he went on telling me about the fire. The people they saved. The one they hadn't. And as I listened, I realized something I should have realized the day we met.

"I'm just someone else for you to save. I don't know how I didn't see it before." And though I wanted to say the words aloud, I'm not that girl. All behaviors at 2 in the morning aside, that's not who I usually am. I avoid drama and deep meaningful conversations. Those are best left in your head. I just looked at him through new eyes and with better understanding.

I'm just someone else for him to save.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Well, the way you treat me like the Only, slightly brings me down a lot

It starts just like every other night seems to start these days.

Come home, change clothes, go for a run, do some strength training, do some ab work, undress, shower.

Get ready, put on some music, start cooking and wait for the doorbell to ring.

Then, slowly, people start arriving. The neighbor, the college friend, the ex-roommate, the brother's girlfriend and - finally - him.

And, just like every other night, we eat. We talk. We joke. We laugh. We bitch. We moan. We clean up the dishes. We play one game or another. We say our goodbyes. And then we're alone. Me. With him.

He helps me pick up. He grabs me when he can. Brief touches here and there. A nuzzle of my neck. A kiss to my shoulder. Brushing my hair back from my forehead. And always, without fail, he compliments me. His words shower over me and instead of bathing in them, I'm drowning in guilt.

But, as I said, it's like any other night. So I smile. I laugh. I thank him. And, most of all, I pretend that everything is okay.

It's not okay. And as he's leaving tonight, it's more palpable. He hugs me goodbye. Nothing too pushy. He's a gentleman, always. He lifts my hand to his mouth and lightly brushes his lips to my palm. "Call me before you go to bed?" I laugh and so does he. Our personal little joke. We both know I don't sleep. "Sure." He hugs me again. "Maybe tonight will be different," he says.

It turns out he's right.

I close the door and settle in with a book. I read page after page, but my mind's not on the words. I can't stop the thoughts from turning over and over in my head. Worse, I can't stop the feelings overwhelming me from manifesting themselves in my mouth begging to be said.

So I call him. At 2:18 in the morning, I call him. And I tell him everything I shouldn't.

I tell him I'm broken. That I've been broken so long now that I don't think I can be fixed. I tell him about the man that broke me. About spending night after night beside him praying - begging - hoping that one day he would love me even a fraction of the way I loved him.

I tell him about waking one morning in his arms and realizing he never would. About reconciling myself to that fact and deciding it didn't matter. That I could and would love him enough for both of us. Until the day I realized it was killing me. That I wasn't the same person that began the relationship and that I hated who I'd become. And so I shut down.

And it's then that he realized he loved me. And he promised me that he would do better. For the first time, I could hear in his voice that he actually meant the words he was saying. His "I love you's" didn't echo hollowly. His eyes followed me in all that I did. And I should have been ecstatic.

But it was too late. He'd already broken me. And I was too scared to love like that again. Too afraid to trust his words and his actions. Terrified that I would wake up tomorrow and the hollowness would be back. I was empty. It would take time for me to heal from what damage had already been done. But he wouldn't wait and we ended before we ever truly began.

My love didn't end. Not a day passed that I didn't wish for his arms around me and those words in my ear. For him to be by my side and me to be by his. But I could pretend with the best of them. So I moved on as though nothing had happened.

And that was fine until someone came along that wouldn't take no for an answer. A man who wasn't content with a date here or there followed by weeks of silence. Someone who deserved more than that and I knew it.

I tell him to find someone who can love him back. To find someone that will kiss him goodnight and beg him to stay. To quit caring for someone whose every thought is consumed with her past. To stop hoping someone broken could love him back. To realize he deserved so much better than the pieces of me that still remain.

He stays silent through it all. Breathing softly. Letting me get it all out in broken words and tearful jerks. When he knows I have nothing left to say he softly - but strongly - says "No" and then hangs up the phone.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Don't deconstruct and then fill me in, I'm not that basic I swear

I believe . . .

Worrying about tomorrow only serves to ruin today

Photography looks better in black and white

We never know anyone completely

How we feel about ourselves matters more than anyone else's opinion

My parents are superheros

Just because you don't love someone the way they want you to doesn't mean you don't love them with everything you have

Life would not be nearly as fulfilling without music

People change

Friday, November 06, 2009

I don't wanna be in love, I don't wanna be in love

He was attractive. I sent a silent note of thanks up to the gods for that. Rarely have I ever been seated next to a man at a work conference (not too many men choose my field of expertise) and never had one been attractive.

He was married. Oh well, I thought. At least there would be some eye candy to look at throughout the day. And still, a silent note of thanks, because it could have been much worse.

He was personable. And intelligent. And he smelled nice. All fantastic, wonderful, amazing things when taking into consideration that these conferences usually made me want to gouge out my eyes with my ball-point pen.

But then it happened.

"So, what's your story anyway? Are you married, engaged, divorced . . . ?"

I waggled my ring-less hand a few inches from his face.

"Ah, so unmarried and unengaged." He lifted his ring encircled finger. "Not me. I will have been married two years in February, but we've been together for 10 years."

"Ten years?? I hope you don't take offense to this, but I pegged you at 24-25 tops. You've been with your wife since you were 14?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Close. I'm 26. We've been together since we were 16."

"Wow. I don't think I've kept anything for 10 years, let alone a person."

He laughed again. "So there's no long-term boyfriend or anything in your life?"

"Nope. I ended a relationship back in January and since then . . . I guess you could say I've dated around."

"Me, too."

I thought I'd misheard. Surely he hadn't said "Me, too." He must have said something like "Too bad" or "The shoe." Not, "Me, too"?

"I'm so sorry, I must have misheard you. What was it you said?"

"Me, too. I said 'Me, too'."

"Me, too? As in . . . ? What do you mean Me, too?"

"Me, too. As in I'm dating around."

"But I thought you just said you're married?"

"I am. And I love her more than anything. But I like to have a little sex on the side. It keeps me from getting bored. And I think it actually spices up our sex life, too."

I wasn't quite sure how to respond to that; or if I even wanted to. Truth be told, I was ready for the conversation to be finished. And ready to change seats. "Soooo . . . your wife knows all of this?"

"Oh no! She'd leave me if she ever found out. She doesn't and can't know any of this."

I was even more confused now. Not to mention disgusted. "But if you love her . . . and you know she'd leave you . . . and you don't want her to leave . . . why do you cheat?"

"Because it's fun and it feels good. Plus it gives me ideas of things to do with my wife. After ten years the sex can get a little boring but I learn things from other women that help me spice things up in the bedroom with my wife."

I felt myself physically gag. The thought of any man believing that sleeping with someone other than his wife was to his wife's benefit was too much for me to stomach. "If you found out your wife was doing the same things you're doing, would you be amenable to it?"

"Hell, no. She better never cheat on me."

Ugh. And this is why I'm not certain I'll ever be able to be married. This is why two engagements have ended and a three year relationship went no-where fast. Because every time I start to think "Marriage can be good" I meet one of these guys. The Do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do guys. The I'm-married-but-who-does-it-hurt-if-I-have-a-little-on-the-side guys. The It's-just-sex guys.

What if I inadvertently married one of those guys?


Wednesday, November 04, 2009

If you love somebody, if you love someone, set them free

I've tried to live my life with one rule: No Regrets.

I've always firmly believed that any choices I'd made, any roads I'd taken, I was supposed to. There was some intermingling of free choice and fate.

But for the first time in my life, the regret is there. And it's not fading away. There's no "This happened for a reason" feeling. No belief that where I am is where I was fated to be. And all of it is because I believed something completely cliched:

If you love something, let it go. If it returns to you then it is yours forever.

There is no returning. There are some things in our lives, some people, that will never return no matter your reasons for letting them go. I'm going to try to come to terms with that. For months I've been pushing this down, ignoring it, believing that I would wake up one day and either it would come back to me - as the cliche states - or I would realize that this is how it was meant to be. No regrets.

It was a good rule. I wish I'd been strong enough to keep living it.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

And I am a weapon of massive consumption, It's not my fault it's how I'm programmed to function

If anyone wants to buy me any (or all) of these things, you will hear no arguments from me:

I have no idea why it's blown the pictures up so large or how to shrink them back down to original size, so you'll have to deal with it. I'm too tired to monkey around with this thing all night.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play, Today

The Phillies are still alive! YAY!

I adore Jayson Werth, Chase Utley and - of course - Arkansas native Cliff Lee.
I was spellbound the entire game tonight. Needless to say, I will be home glued to the TV Wednesday night.

Phillies to rest ace Lee, tap Blanton for game four

You have found her, now go and get her

Love this:

eddiechu:  missface:  dunkerz:  bagoong:  shaneonyou:  cjdesilva:fuckyeahthebeatles:lovingthesethings  lol its simple yet genius  reblog forever.

Friday, October 30, 2009

What used to take two hours now takes all day, Huh - it took me sixteen hours to get to L.A.

While traveling down an old two-lane highway there are cosmic laws that dictate:
  • You will inevitably find yourself behind an idiot that believes the speed limit hovers somewhere between 35-45; a minimum of 10 mph less than the actual, posted, speed limit.
  • When you're in a no-passing section of highway there will be no other vehicles as far as the eye can see.
  • Once you reach a passing zone, every vehicle within a 70 mile radius will suddenly be in the oncoming traffic lane thwarting any and all attempts to pass the idiot hovering between 35-45 mph.
  • And last, but certainly not least, as soon as the end is in sight - as soon as you see your turn approaching and you take a deep breath of thanks that you will finally be rid of the idiot - the idiot will put on his turning signal indicating his intent to continue on in your same general direction.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Give me the beat boys and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock and roll

Why do I love each and every single song that I've painstakingly transferred from my iTunes to my iPhone unless or until it pops up on shuffle?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy

Many thanks to the beautiful and inspiring Ms. Sizzle over at Sizzle Says for reminding me to focus on all the wonderful things that make me happy these days. And what better way for a moderately obsessive compulsive person to focus on them than by making a list?
  • Opening the windows of my bedroom and curling up under thick, warm blankets to sleep.
  • Bright yellow, deep green, shiny red and crisp brown leaves standing out against the bright blue sky.
  • Knee-high suede and leather boots.
  • 3/4 length sleeved wool coats paired with elbow length leather gloves.
  • Deep, rumbling thunder and heavy rains that beat on my roof.
  • Piping hot peppermint mocha coffee or steaming gingerbread spice tea.
  • Books I get lost in.
  • Heartbreakingly beautiful photographs.
  • Music of any and every kind filling my house.
  • Scarves, mittens and toboggans.
  • Large vintage sunglasses.
  • Babies and toddlers dressed as pumpkins, dinosaurs and bumblebees.
  • Receiving hand-written letters in the mail.
  • Crunchy Fuji apples quartered and dipped in marshmallow fluff.
  • Black and white Cary Grant films.
  • Dresses, dresses, dresses.
  • Laundered clothes fresh from the dryer.
  • Laughing until my eyes well with tears and my cheeks ache from smiling.
  • Cinnamon-Cider Aromatique candles burning in every room.
  • Slow dancing in the living room just before bed.
  • Bookshelves brimming with tons of options.
  • College football games that leave me hoarse and satisfied.
  • Oren Lavie, The Doors, Rilo Kiley, Morningwood, David Garrett, The Grass Roots, Citizen Cope, The Weepies, Michael Buble and Spinnerette.
  • Long bike rides that leave my legs aching and my lungs bursting.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Hey, you've got a lot of nerve, to dredge up all my fears

There is nothing more frightening than the following:
  • Clowns
  • The King from the Burger King ads
  • William Shatner
Not necessarily in that order.
Except for the clowns. Nothing is scarier than a clown.

And possibly this:

carrottop.jpg image by vulken

That's pretty damn frightening.

Someone please tell me Carrot-Top has pants on. PLEASE!

Monday, October 26, 2009

Scar tissue that I wish you saw

The Mark You Left

There are many of them
Lining my body
Pink, tan, white
Short and stark
Long and thin
Places where I have been opened

There are more of them
Hidden from view
Buried inside
Thick and ragged
Some still bleeding
Places where I have been broken

This one on my arm will always remind me of you
Two inches long
Brown against peach skin
The last time I let myself be completely open
The final one to see all of me and not parts

It’s the smallest scar you left on me
The only one that’s visible
It will always remind me that you were here
Do you have such memories of me?

Sunday, October 25, 2009

I'm the man who murdered love, Yeah, What do you think to that?

He's sitting right beside you. Holding your hand, squeezing it for comfort. Holding your head and mopping your brow. Telling you that you'll feel better tomorrow.

But all you can think is "Stop touching me!" and
"Why are you here?"

He's getting you more blankets. Making you chicken soup. Getting the mail and answering your phone.

And all you can think is "Please leave." and "None of this is changing anything."

He has no bad intentions. You can see in his eyes that all he wants to do is help. But deeper, buried, you see that other look, too. That hopeful glimmer. And whether he admits it or not, some part of him is thinking "If I do all of this. If I show her how much I care and how I'll be the most amazing guy she's ever known and how I'll do anything for her. If I can do enough, say enough, show her enough . . . she'll love me, too."

And all you can think is "I do love him." but "Not like that. Never like that."

You can tell him that all you want. You do. You have. Over and over. Again and again. But the words travel in one ear and out the other. He dates around, but comes to your house after every date. He asks a few too many questions when you've been out. Not just the "Did you have fun?" and "Who all was there?" types but the deeper "Did you go with anyone . . . like a guy anyone?" and "Did you meet anyone you found interesting? Did you give them your number?" types.

And the truth is, it's unfair to both of you. And it's unfair to me to be stuck in the middle. The friend who hears both sides.

And all I can think is "You're both damn idiots."

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Money, It's a gas, Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash

Call me a conspiracy theororist, but I truly, deeply, honestly believe that THIS occurred specifically to increase revenue for the SEC.

The SEC stands to gain somewhere upwards of 64 million dollars if Alabama and Florida go to the end of the season as #1 and #2 (respectively). SEC Championship revenue, ensuing bowl game revenue, merchandising, etc.

You're not going to convince me that those Refs are not well aware of how it behooves them as employees of the SEC to keep Florida unbeaten.

And, yes, I do still consider last Saturday a win for Arkansas. In my heart and in my mind that team won that day. Without question.

Wooooo Pig Soooooieeee

Friday, October 23, 2009

Thursday, October 22, 2009

I'm only happy when it rains, you want to hear about my new obsession

Since it's the 73rd consecutive day of rainfall, I've decided to put those many boards of wood in my garage (originally intended to build shelving for both the garage and storage rooms) to better use: An ark.

Do not mistake this as a complaint. I wake each morning hoping for another dreary day. Being self-employed it's difficult to remain motivated to stay at work. I spent a vast majority of the summer working 1/2 and 2/3 days because it was just too perfect a day to spend toiling for the masses. I needed to be at the lake, on a boat, sipping margaritas and beer so cold it had ice crystals in it. I needed to be at baseball games, sweating my ass off but laughing, cheering and smiling with friends. I needed . . . to be thinking more about my steadily declining checking account.

Unfortunately, the rapidly cooling days drive me to other pleasurable pursuits. I see the sun shining and feel the chilled breezes and begin to think "Oh! I need to be out hiking!" or "What a perfect weekend for camping! Let's make it a four-day weekend!" So the rain has been a blessing. A deterrent. A bolsterer of checking accounts. And I can only hope it continues on.

Let it rain. Let it rain. Let it rain.

(Except on Saturdays. No one enjoys sitting at a college football stadium in the cold rain.)

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

So please go, I'm not strong enough to say no

It is not uncommon for me to come home to a house full of people. My brother, his girlfriend, two neighbors and an ex-roommate all have keys and/or garage door openers to my home. Also, several close friends and ex-boyfriends know where to find the not-so-strategically hidden spare key. I cannot count how many times I've pulled up expecting dark windows and quiet solitude only to be surprised with guests in search of a sympathetic ear, a hot meal or just some company on a lonely night.

I am, more often than not, reconciled to this fact and even secretly happy about it. But there are those nights when someone else's wants or needs cannot outweigh my own and I have to learn to say "NO!" Unfortunately, I am not so great at the "No" part. I tend to either grin and bear it or, worse, passive-aggressively drive by my own house - hoping no one sees my vehicle - and head down to the park to hide until I think, maybe, they've given up and gone home.

My goal this week is to say "No" at least once when an unexpected visitor emerges at an inopportune time. I will be apologetic, but firm. I will stand my ground, but in a sympathetic way. I will put my own wants and needs first. I will say "No".

I will.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

You could make grown men gasp, when you go walking past

While watching me get ready for a date:

"You never go through this much trouble when I take you out."

"Because you don't take me out. We're friends. It's not going out it's two friends enjoying each other's company over dinner."

"It's still out. I thought women went through all this trouble because they were going to be in public. Isn't the whole point of this to make other guys jealous of the guy that has you -- whether it's a boyfriend or a friend -- the guy looking at the two of you doesn't know the difference."

"Sure he does. He can tell by how we interact with each other. Am I touching your arm? Holding your hand? Stealing quick glances in your direction? If the answers to any or all of these are NO then he knows I'm not off the market. Perfect example: The waitress that flirted with you last Wednesday. She knew we were not a we because of how we interacted."

"Women put too much thought into all of this. We don't give a rat's ass how you interact with whatever guy you're with. Is there a ring on your finger? Are you hot enough to take an ass whipping for? If the answers are No and Yes in that order, we're going to hit on you."

Pregnant pause.

"Actually, if you're hot enough the ring thing doesn't matter, either. We'll still hit on you. We just know the rejection levels and possibilities for an ass whipping in those cases are probably a little higher."

Monday, October 19, 2009

Skip ahead to the Single Ladies part instead

Her voice, her humor, her expressions; the entire video is fantastic.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Got a secret, can you keep it, swear this one you'll save

I went through this, too.
I finally ended things.
It took me forever to do it.
I still love him. I always will.
But, I don't think he'll ever be over her.
And I deserve to be loved completely.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you

"Where did you sleep last night?"

"What makes you think I didn't sleep at home?"

"You're vehicle wasn't there."

"How could you possibly know that? The garage door is always closed. Regardless of whether I'm home or not."

"Oh. I programmed the third button on my garage door opener to open your garage, too. When I got in from the bar I opened your garage and noticed your vehicle was gone."

" . . . . . . "

"What?!? Don't look at me like that. It's not . . .I mean . . .well . . ."

". . . . . "

"Can we forget that whole conversation just took place?"

"Sure thing, Stalker McStalkerson."

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

But you've got too much to wear on your sleeves, it has too much to do with me

A couple crossed a parking lot. Just as couples do every night. It would have been unremarkable to most anyone else. But on this night, at this time, it struck something deep inside me.

I watched her begin to step from the curb alone. Just as her foot reached out to empty air, he touched her shoulder lightly and she paused. His fingers found hers and they entwined. She smiled gently at him and he at her then they stepped off the curb. Together.

My heart caught in my throat for a minute and I thought, "Oh god, I miss that so badly."

I like pictures of hands today

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Storm clouds may rise

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch,
to wrap my arms around her and sleep.
Not fuck, like in those movies.
Not even have sex.
Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase.
But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend
and I was gawky and she was gorgeous
and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating.
So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk,
thinking that if people were rain,
I was drizzle and she was a hurricane."

-- John Green, Looking for Alaska

Monday, October 12, 2009

I gotta brand new tattoo, All the colors in it remind me of you

I've never thought of myself as a tattoo person. I'm nearly certain anyone who knows me would balk at the possibility of my having and/or getting one. And yet . . . .

For months I've carried around this one picture. I had an idea of one of the tattoos I would want, assuming I ever decided I truly wanted one, and while browsing a friend's photography website I found the embodiment of it.

All that's left now is to convince myself that I am a tattoo person.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Well there's a feeling in the air, just like a Friday afternoon

Sleeping with the windows open on the first cold night, waking up with goosebumps, reaching down for that extra comforter that's spent months unused at the foot of your bed. Gloves, heavy wool coats, hot cocoa slowly sipped at football games that leave you hoarse the next day. Skies that begin to darken earlier and earlier each evening. Tall suede boots, long pretty scarves, frost crystals sparkling in the morning sun. Thick down sleeping bags, bright burning fires, brown gooey marshmallows melting the chocolate between two graham crackers. The promise of snow . . . or, in some places, the neverending hope of it. Team rankings, bowl games, shirtless fanatics shivering in nothing but team color paint. Memories of him. Of us. Autumn falling into winter.

This is my time of year.

Friday, October 09, 2009

Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition

A brief phone conversation:

"Hey! Your ears must have been burning; I was just talking about you. Where are you?"

"Still trying to make it home, stuck in this godforsaken traffic AND, because of the godforsaken traffic, I've had an epiphany and felt the need to call and share."

"Oooookay . . . .?"

"Remember how I agreed to take the Conceal/Carry class with you at the end of October so we could both get our licenses before the laws changed?"

"Yessss . . . . ?"

"I've decided that's a verrrrrry bad idea. I realized moments ago that if I had a gun in the vehicle with me, there's a 99.5% chance that I would use the gun in moments like these. And, let's face it, moments like these happen every morning between 6 and 8 and every afternoon between 4 and 6. You don't want me to go to jail for murder and/or lesser offenses do you?"

"Definitely not."

"Glad that's settled then. See you shortly."

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Abandoning beginnings that you brought to life and left

Some posts won't truly be posts at all. For this reason alone, I've considered moving/restarting this "blog" on a more appropriate site like Tumblr . . . but this was the beginning for me, so it makes sense that it's where I should start over and eventually end.

With that in mind, I share this video of a song I've been playing on repeat for months on end. I'll always take a break for a few days, but then come right back to it.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

I've seen a lotta bad movies, I saw one just last night

The next time Movie Gallery calls to inform me that I have a "free rental" I think I'm just going to tell them to credit it to someone else's account.

I couldn't tell you the last time I saw a good movie. Hell, at this point, I'd settle for a mediocre one. But upon hearing the word "free" all memories of bad movies past jump out the window and I immediately think I must take advantage of this opportunity! Never turn down something that's free! So I called Linley and we made a plan for a girl's night. Ugly pajamas, pore minimizing masks, pasta with a cream sauce guarenteed to clog your arteries and then oddles of Coca-Cola and homemade popcorn all for our movie viewing pleasure.

Once we were actually at Movie Gallery, the plan went a bit awry. I am not typically a "chick flick" kind of girl. I generally go for the more high-brow comedy, action-adventure, sports related or old black and white kinds of movies. I will occassionally make an exception, but I hadn't planned to on this night until Linley took it upon herself to hold He's Just Not That Into You high into the air and proclaim loudly "OH! I've been dying to see this and you know the guys will never watch it with us!! This is PERFECT!!!"

I didn't even attempt to hide my cringe. Nevermind that it was *my* free rental or that I was the elder of the two of us. All attempts to sway her from He's Just Not That Into You were thwarted and therefore the movie accompanied us to my house.

I now completely understand why some men are Confirmed Bachelors. I can see why others have sworn off women entirely or entered a monastary. I can even see why men that weren't previously attracted to the male persuasion may have found themselves in a gay bar on a whim. If that movie is any indication of how women generally are in relationships . . . . I salute your choices. I applaud you for swearing off the craziness that is women. Particularly that Gigi Phillips (played by Ginnifer Goodwin) character. I continually said "Are women REALLY this desperate?!?!? She's so . . . so . . . ugh. She makes me ashamed to be a woman."

The truly sad part is that throughout the movie Linley and I would look at each other and assign the characters to people in our everyday lives. For instance, that Gigi woman is the personification of Linley's 25-yr old roommate. They both have that palpable desperation that makes every man, woman and child steer clear of them lest they attach themselves to you like a parasite and drain every drop of blood and/or the desire to live out of your body.

The movie is simply painful. In fact, He's Just Not That Into You forced me to utter a sentence that should never never ever ever ever ever be uttered aloud:

"The only redeeming aspect of the entire movie was Ben Affleck. Without his character, I would have shut this crap off an hour and twenty minutes ago."


Tuesday, October 06, 2009

O'er the land of the Free and the home of the Brave

During the opening ceremonies of a recent sporting event the "Regional Finalist" for American Idol had a bit of a slip up during his rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. Though he sang it beautifully, I believe his nerves got the best of him and his big finale ended as such:

O'er the land of the brave and the home of the brave

Needless to say, despite all attempts at composure, several members of the audience (myself included) began laughing quietly to themselves and forgot to applaud his effort.

The gentleman behind me was outraged and tapped me on the shoulder forcefully before angrily asking: "Why is everyone laughing??? I find this extremely disrespectful. That young man had a beautiful voice and sang that song just as it should be sung."

When I explained as nicely as possible that though the boy did have a beautiful voice he had forgotten the exact wording to the end of the song and that was the reason for the laughter, the gentleman shook his head sheepishly and responded: "Well Hell, he obviously knew more of the words than I did!"

Monday, October 05, 2009

Running on Empty

My anti-social tendencies are showing again. I spent the majority of the day ignoring all e-mails, texts and phone calls that were not directly related to work. Hoping against all hope that I could complete my day and arrive home to enjoy a night of silence and solitude.

While I will admit to generally being a person who enjoys alone time, it's rare that I need it so desperately. It has, however, dawned on me that I haven't been alone, truly alone, in well over two weeks. The days have been spent toiling at work and the nights have been crammed with dinners, cocktails, picnics, birthday planning sessions, several concerts, impromptu road-trips and various other social occasions that thoroughly ignored my craving for brief periods of isolation.

This weekend alone consisted of a mad dash home on Friday afternoon to ready myself for an early dinner followed by an astounding concert before returning home at 2 A.M. to find a car in my driveway and a friend in need of a sympathetic ear. The counseling session wrapped around 7 leaving me just enough time to shower and begin Saturday's mad-dash including a birthday brunch and breaking the land-speed record to make it to Dallas in time for the Arkansas vs. Texas A & M football game.

As though Friday and Saturday weren't quite full enough, what was a wonderful, thoughtful gift initially turned into more of a headache because dates weren't checked and few people grasp that football season is a terrible time for any surprise outtings with me. Countless weeks ago tickets had been purchased for a St. Louis Cardinals game on Sunday afternoon. Due to the Arkansas game being in Dallas and my abhorrence of all things requiring my body to be more than 7 feet above ground, we had to make a 6 hour drive home at 11 P.M. Saturday followed by a 4 A.M. wake time for another 6 hour drive to ensure our arrival for the 1 P.M. game Sunday afternoon.

A more intelligent human being would have taken a personal day today. But I never claimed to be intelligent. Instead, I worked a solid 9 hours on a paltry 2 hours of sleep following a hectic 7 hour return drive (traffic was a nightmare) home after the game.

I'm thinking I may take tomorrow off.
It's been suggested (or demanded, rather) that I take up writing in a more public venue again. This is my nod to that suggestion.

I'll make no promises. I'll not set up expectations. This is all I can and will concede at the moment. It will have to be enough.