24 February 2006

Lets Go Catch Snakes:

R: I was wondering

R: would you like to be my best friend?

LF: will i get a necklace?

R: yes

R: youll get the "st/nds" half

LF: hmm

LF: well okay

R: if you want the other half just say so

R: as my best friend, I will gladly give you it

LF: no i like my half

R: am considerate to your needs as the other half of this best friendsihp

R: friendship*

LF: thank you.

R: its my pleasure. Now lets go catch snakes

LF: lol

LF: dont worry, we're not going to kill them, we're going to let them go free

LF: lol

LF: i am posting this on my blog

R: or keep them in an old coffee bean jar with holes poked in the plastic lid

R: what happens in a best friendship stays in a best friendship

LF: this is the best conversation I have ever had online

LF: its being posted

23 February 2006

There is something alarming about experiencing something that you had, to some degree, already written off as wholly remaining in your past. When that experience presents itself to you, awakened and matured in your mid-twenties, nothing can truly prepare you for how you will feel. You can hypothesize, imagine, play out various scenarios, but the truth is, its easier than not to become the person you once were – the person you are happy to have left behind.

Last night I encountered one such experience. Long ago, well before I joined myspace or even had a blog, I had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend was in a band. Cliché, I realize, but I was so into it at the time that I didn’t realize how dangerous of a person I had become to myself. The band this boyfriend was in had three other members – one I had dated briefly, who I believe to be married to a girl that I was once friends with – basically because we were both girlfriends of the boyfriends in the band. I liked her though – I still do and if I ran into either her or her husband, I’d be happy to talk to them.

In my memory, I have two very carefully carved out versions of the two other members: one was a guy who not only represented the complete opposite of my political ideologies (read: my identity), but was also somewhat misogynistic, arrogant, and just plain gross. I just don’t have good memories of that individual – he never did anything wrong to be directly – but I had a feeling that if anyone was cheering for my demise, and more importantly the demise of my then relationship with my ex, he was the quiet leader of that movement.

The other member has a trickier place in my memory – he was a genuinely nice guy – older by about two years I think. As I furrow my brow in remembering, I envision him as a nice and caring individual who really was devoted to being a musician, or maybe just being in a band – I think he’d been in like three bands before joining my ex’s band. I liked him – he was amusing – he was pleasant acting – and he seemed reasonable. I got an email from him about three months ago and deleted it – primarily because he is such a connection to the ex – and I have unwillingly learned they are roommates, along with another girl who I absolutely cannot stand which is another story altogether. I digress.

I should mention that the summer of 2002 was one of the worse times of my life. If we haven’t been friends long, or if we aren’t friends at all, you should know that my mother was very, very sick for a very, very long time, and it all started that summer. I am not sure if anyone my age has a concept of what its like to suddenly reverse roles when you turn 21, but I pretty much did that and more when my mother was comatose for three months, and then pretty much fought to stay alive for a year. She’s still not completely herself and that experience changed me more than anything else – more than being adopted, more than falling in love, more than any relationship with any boyfriend/friend, etc. More than college, more than working, more than my own personal illnesses. The reality of it was I drove home one weekend to take care of my mother who was supposed to just have some basic surgery, widely done, and I ended up living in a hospital for a month.

That is the background of why I have such a disdain for my ex boyfriend and that entire part of my life. Its almost as though seeing him or being around any of his friends automatically reverts me to the time when I was weak, improbable, and incredibly stupid. I just did stupid things, I took out my emotions and frustrations on my relationship – and it should be noted that my ex really didn’t treat me well at all during that time. I guess he couldn’t handle it. I really don’t know anymore. The truth is that throughout that summer, I changed – physically, I widdled down to a girls’ size 14, and emotionally I was lost. My mother had been the strong person in my family – the one I identified with most. When she got sick, the reversal of relying on my father and confiding in him – it was so sudden. My brother, father and I grew much closer, but my mothers presence while on life support was the reminder of what my family was and what it could have been. I felt everything change around me, and the slightest change from my relationship with the ex seemed to sound this alarm – my need for protection and companionship surely hurt my relationship, pushing the ex further. I don’t excuse what happened – we’d been together like two years at that time, so it wasn’t like I had just met him…and it should be noted that I had been able to handle his emotional breakdowns without acting the way he did…but the thing I am forgetting to say is that he was “on tour” that same time as my mother was so sick – translation: off our relationship. Remember the member I mentioned who is now married? Well he would often inform me of my ex’s behavior at that time – and it wasn’t encouraging my faith in him.

It all came to a head one night that summer, in Wisconsin, when I got in a huge argument with my ex – the sort of fight that you can’t really remember you just sort of see yourself there – crying, somewhat hysterical, angry, and completely out of control. Its not so much embarrassing as it is telling of how lost you were – and I was really lost. When my ex and I finally put whatever thing we were arguing about aside (read: trivial and not the real issue at all), I remember getting in the van and just wanting the ground to swallow me. Instead, it was the awkward silence of like four people who were waiting on my ex and I to stop screaming. I still have no idea what it was about. What I do remember is the band member I enjoyed the most saying to me that he was sorry – that he didn’t know what was going on with my mom – and saying something along the lines of doing a show to raise money for the ever moutning medical bills that I think my mom and dad are still dealing with today, 4 years later…really because the treatment never stopped. It still hasn’t. I guess that’s when I realized what sort of person my ex boyfriend was – he hadn’t even bothered to tell his band mates while “on tour” and away from me that my mother was dying…be/c that would have meant that there would have been a distraction or an obvious sign that what my ex was doing was not exactly the best behavior for a relationship that had aged two years.

Last night I went to see Sptialfield at the Metro. To my surprise, the band member who had made that sincere offer so long ago was on stage…and it just sort of made me happy. I am not sure how it happened but it seems like he was really enjoying himself and that he was continuing what he had done when I knew him – playing music. Around me were people that I recognized from my past, that time so long ago when I was the band member’s girlfriend, really unidentifiable past that – and it makes me sad that I allowed myself to dumb down to that level.

Outside of seeing a glimpse of the past I thought I’d left behind too, the night wouldn’t be complete with some sensory invasion from my ex boyfriend. Like a bullhorn from hell, as I stood at the base of the stairs leafing through fliers, I heard him shout something incomprehensible and ridiculous, and I froze. I froze, like I was 21 again and saw that entire crap shoot that was the tail end of our relationship flash before my eyes. I bolted and I don’t think he saw me, or if he did, he chose to ignore me as I did him and I can’t say I blame him. I would hope he’s changed or grown up or something from that time but its not a guarantee. There’s just something eerie about the past you thought you’d tied up so nicely in your memory presenting itself you and not being able to really define how you feel at that moment. I hope I never have to hear his voice or see his face or really know about his life ever again. Its not wishing ill upon him, because I genuinely hope he prospers in whatever he does, but I just don’t feel like I need to know.

I have changed and grown so much in the last few years and that part of my past was just so pronounced...it was like being warped back in time for two hours...and the best part was that it was like being given the chance to actually do things differently - not having to talk to him, not having to be that person that I was in that relationship...tangibly feeling like time had passed, growth had happened and a faith in myself, sans relationships, sans boyfriends, had occurred. At last.

22 February 2006

What do you want me to bring you from London? I leave in about three weeks and am growing more and more excited as the days tick by. Its probably getting annoying to be around but whatever.

21 February 2006

My new favorite band::

The Pig War
Minus The Bear



..."if we leave now we can catch the last boat out
and that's the best one on this clear night
under pin-prick light

the wind on the boat's deck is a cold hand on the neck
or slipping into our cold bed

it's been so long that it seems
that i've never danced with anyone
she moves so
she moves so well

if we go outside we can take in a haze of Roche Harbor light
drink a bottle of red wine
forgetting to tell time
just sit still
we've moved enough

the wind on the boat's deck is a cold hand on the neck
or slipping into our cold bed"


To hear it, go to my myspace profile and check it out - it plays automatically.

20 February 2006

No one can/wants to go see Spitalfield with me on Wednesday. God that sucks. I will end up going alone - such a loser. Oh well. I suppose i'll just go in for the set and then leave. This, the penultimate closer of what defines a loner. S/he who goes to shows alone. For one band.

In other news - I really am feeling quite peppy about my UK trip - I didn't realize how close it was until I saw that March is just around the corner and that means two things: London trip and March madness. As much as I enjoy watching college basketball, traveling to London with Eduardo, to see his old friends (so euro) and check out a few favorites (his boarding school, namely seeing the uniforms; and of course, going to parliament), tops college ball. Spitalfields Market for the vintage shopping...and taking photos of my tiny dinosaurs in front of monuments which you will be able to view upon my stateside return...amazing.

In other news, I paid a full $10.00 more for Superhero checks today and am going to get V for Vendetta at Borders this afternoon. No wonder I have so few friends.

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