Category: Confessional

On a Kashi-Good-For-You lunch break I have decided to go back and pick up the pieces from the tornado I blog. I have to wonder if any of those pieces were worth discussing at this point since time has marched on. I definitely could go back to the friend piece because that’s what had me so high on Friday night in the first place ~ that, and two huge glasses of Merlot. I spent a good portion of the night trying not to be an emotional train-wreck. First, there was G. and his heartbreak and glasses of water. I think the waiter wanted to strangle him (if only we had BubbleGum Jr. as our waiter…sigh). Then, there was the worry-worry-worry about a near no-show friend. His absence would have killed me. Just when I had given up, had stopped watching the door, he graced me with his “I’m okay-ness” face. The 11th hour reprieve – he brought the promised people, too. We were the eight I thought we would be.
I’m grateful to C for his advice, because I took it, I used it. I let it help me. Thanks. During PLMB I closed my eyes and, “listened like it was the first time.” I knew “my” line would come and go without the nod, so I didn’t feel the need to make eye contact with anyone. It worked. I closed me (suddenly, I’m Irish) eyes to hide the tears, but I also closed my eyes to Let Go of the past. I. Am. Getting. There.
Normally, I would recap the whole music scene that has me so emotional, but this is where the advice of another friend comes in. This person is lodged in my heart and I trust him with all of it. When he said things like, “don’t say anything” and “hypersensitive” and “better if you do” I listened and listened. It helps that sirsy hasn’t posted a setlist from the night, but I’m also deflated because when something makes me happy I want to say something about it. This whole leaving things unsaid is going to be tough, out of my M.O., but I know I should listened my friend.

As for everything else in that blog – the thrill  I mean, thought is gone. So, no ping pong balls.

This is something I wrote on MyBadSpace on Wednesday, January 04, 2006. This is the lesson I should have learned. More on that later.

Freak Current mood: embarrassed I’m always freaked out when I see how many times a blathering (blog) of mine has been read. Especially on the days I don’t post anything. Like today. I hadn’t said anything yet but somehow 12 people read something. Is it one person going back to read an entry 12 times? Freak. Is it 12 people all reading one blog? I have to be careful not to let the numbers thing whack me out. Case in point: someone subscribed to my blog…he was the first one…and then he mysteriously left myspace all together. I immediately thought it was something I said. I practically gave myself the proverbial underarm sniff test for days, wringing my hands and whining, “what’d I do?” I scoured my blogs for something offensive, something inexcusable. But, here’s the real problem: I am self-conscious and naked feeling. I write these things for me, myself and I. When I’m writing about the high I get from sirsy, the low I get from cancer; when I write about all the heartache and heartbreak I’m looking inward for the audience. Me, myself and I – we forget you’re in the room when I undress my feelings. Don’t look at us sideways because we might think you’re laughing at us!

When I went to bed last night I realized I had more things swirling around than I had originally thought. In addition to everything else I mentioned, here’s more: a television commercial has had me Hostage for a few weeks now. Dreamy Johnny is all I can talk about these days. Guys, I swear I saw the BubbleGum version working at The Kinsale Friday night. I kid you not. I’m hung up on a tragedy that I don’t know how to put into sane words. All I want to do is spew fiery swears. Not good for the kids.  My husband’s work life has been turned upside down. Everything has him on pins and needles. The sad thing is, when he says he’s paranoid, he’s usually right. I tortured myself with B&N last night. Holding books, cracking them open to reveal the words and pictures inside has, become a passion. Remind me not to go in there again. At least not for awhile. I almost bought The Biggest Loser Cookbook but I just bought How to Crack an Egg and Everyday Mexican through The Good Cook. I’m still reading Happyness  and Booklust, but now I’ve added Here First.
Anyway…At some point I’ll capture the thoughts and kill them in print. Or. Maybe they’ll disappear on their own before I can get to them. I don’t know. So much to think about. For now, I have to get to work. My last Sunday. Something else to say.

There is truth to what they say…that whole strength in numbers thing. I believe in it…to an extent (I guess in my life there is room for doubt..about everything). But, this numbers thing is onto something. Originally, I was planning on going to sirsy with only me and myself. I miss the music, I need the music, even if Nobody misses or needs me. By my lonesome I was prepared to be alone – r e a l l y alone. It’s not a feeling I am stranger to. I have felt alone in a crowded room, and for some reason, liked it. Almost anonymous, sitting outside the hub of activity. Observing from the fringes. That’s how I prepared to be tonight…but, I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I’d like it because it’s not the same. Self imposed isolation is different from someone doing it for you.

I never used to be this way. I once went to Albany for a Leukemia & Lymphoma charity event. I went teamless. I didn’t know a soul except for the music. I was there to heal my soul with the music. You talk about cancer. You worry about cancer. You rant about cancer. Sometimes it’s the tiny things like good music that can take the talk, worry, and rant all away…for a little while. That was why I drove to Albany alone. To heal with music ~ for the moment. I wasn’t afraid. I am now. I don’t think I could do that today. My courage needs a team these days.

So, J, G, D, W, C & D – I will see you from the fringe.