Tuesday night, I met up with good friends Paul and Tia, who are in town for a few weeks prior to their move to Washington, DC for graduate school.
After yet another unsuccessful night at trivia, Turck accompanied us to the Good Time Saloon, where we played a few rounds of pool before retiring to Nate's house for a few shots of Wild Turkey (bad idea, Turck) and various other indulgences. A good time was had by all, and I didn't crawl onto the Turck family futon until after 4am. I did brandish a chemically-enhanced southern/hillbilly accent for a lenthy amount of time before turning in. Anyway, we had some fun and it was good to see them.
Next Friday, Kristen and John will be home and I'll be attending a little barbecue at Kristen's.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Billy Takes an Early Exit Down Under
American rocker BILLY CORGAN abandoned a solo concert in Melbourne, Australia last night (26JUL05) after fans repeatedly asked him to play songs by his former band SMASHING PUMPKINS.
Despite placing an advert in the Chicago Tribune expressing his intent to reform the Smashing Pumpkins last month (JUN05), Corgan became increasingly angered by continued catcalls from the audience.
According to reports in Melbourne newspapers, one fan heckled "play some Pumpkins" to which Corgan replied, "Can I live my life for today?"
Later in the performance, another audience-member shouted "We want rock" - prompting Corgan to suggest he ask for his money back.
The final straw came towards the end of the show when another fan requested Pumpkins material. Corgan declared "F**k this" and stormed off stage ignoring calls to return.
Despite placing an advert in the Chicago Tribune expressing his intent to reform the Smashing Pumpkins last month (JUN05), Corgan became increasingly angered by continued catcalls from the audience.
According to reports in Melbourne newspapers, one fan heckled "play some Pumpkins" to which Corgan replied, "Can I live my life for today?"
Later in the performance, another audience-member shouted "We want rock" - prompting Corgan to suggest he ask for his money back.
The final straw came towards the end of the show when another fan requested Pumpkins material. Corgan declared "F**k this" and stormed off stage ignoring calls to return.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Good Times Bad Times
The title of the post does not just refer to the first song on Led Zeppelin's first album.
One year ago today, I fell asleep while driving home and hit a guard rail about one hundred yards from my own driveway. About an hour afterward, I picked up a very attractive but seemingly empty-headed girl and had to have her crawl in to her seat through the driver's side door. Very dignified. We had dinner at Red Lobster and then walked along the lake at Celeron, where she told me it was "weird" to hold hands.
The next day, we went to Matt's 4th of July celebration, where she did not interact with any of my friends and did not play frisbee with those of us who were doing so. I had to take her home at 12:30 to meet her curfew. Although I found that, in principle, dating a girl originally from Ukraine had some exotic appeal, it wasn't quite as good as one may have hoped.
Five days later, we had broken up.
I do not mourn the end of that relationship.
__________________________________
One year ago today, I fell asleep while driving home and hit a guard rail about one hundred yards from my own driveway. About an hour afterward, I picked up a very attractive but seemingly empty-headed girl and had to have her crawl in to her seat through the driver's side door. Very dignified. We had dinner at Red Lobster and then walked along the lake at Celeron, where she told me it was "weird" to hold hands.
The next day, we went to Matt's 4th of July celebration, where she did not interact with any of my friends and did not play frisbee with those of us who were doing so. I had to take her home at 12:30 to meet her curfew. Although I found that, in principle, dating a girl originally from Ukraine had some exotic appeal, it wasn't quite as good as one may have hoped.
Five days later, we had broken up.
I do not mourn the end of that relationship.
__________________________________
Friday, July 01, 2005
Return to Form
Tuesday night, our team Bye Week - with its shifting lineup comprised this week of Thom, Turck and Lindsay, and me - regained the top spot on Trivia Night at the Anchor Inn in Lakewood. The prize this week was a slightly more generous $25 bar tab. The place had no shot glasses left, so our Jack Daniels and Jagermeister was poured into plastic cups (in what seemed to be three ounce servings).
Once again, each member of the team proved to be invaluable. Trivia Night has been fun each time, but it's a hell of a lot more fun when we win.
Once again, each member of the team proved to be invaluable. Trivia Night has been fun each time, but it's a hell of a lot more fun when we win.
Long Post
I have a folder in my room at my parents’ house where I keep most of the notes that Destini wrote to me during our relationship, as well as a few photographs and other reminders. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I got it out and began looking through it. There are literally dozens of letters and little notes, from September 26, 2000. The last one in the folder (but not the last one I received – those came to me in the mail in Fort Collins, CO) was one from January 18, 2003 – months after the end and just a few weeks before I left to head west.
The majority of those letters were just amazing in their expression of love. I remember the days that she describes in those words. It seems that we were immeasurably younger and more confident in ourselves and in our ability to survive anything and everything. I was talking to one of my married friends not too long ago about how Destini and I had not spoken very much about marriage. I remembered that I had asked her very early on whether she wanted that and she had disappointed me somewhat by saying that she really didn’t. However, I found a letter yesterday from the mid-to-late period of the relationship that refers to her happiness at something that I said to her about getting married and how it was something she wanted, which of course made me feel just a little bit worse than I had been feeling already. It’s probably sick to hang onto this kind of thing. I just can’t possibly imagine throwing it away. Those letters are such an incredible body of work that provides tremendous insight into the feelings of the most important person I’ve known in my life.
I didn’t read every one yesterday. I read a few lines from every third or fourth page and every so often I would read an entire note. I kind of expected a progression from the almost delirious beginnings to the peak of our happiness and then a downward movement as the end approached. But it seems for the most part that Des wrote mainly when she had something incredibly nice and loving to say. So there was really just a sharp downturn toward the very, very end and it shocked me a little bit. As much as you can be shocked by something when you already know the outcome, that is. This is the girl that quoted Led Zeppelin lyrics back to me, even to the last. One of the letters she wrote to me while I was in Colorado was sent in an envelope that had “Since I’ve Been Loving You” on the back. I don’t know why I kept reading when things got ugly. It hit me hard – again, like it was unexpected? Of course, if life followed the desires of my mind, the story would have changed – Butterfly Effect style, if anyone’s seen that movie – and as I got to the “end,” the bad stuff wouldn’t be there and there would be many letters after the last one. Des would come walking into the room, take one glance at the folder and smile, asking me why I was going through those again. However, as some people like to point out to me, my life is not a movie and that kind of thing doesn’t really happen. And if it is a movie, it’s pretty goddamn depressing in many ways.
Those were days when friends would tell me I had never seemed happier or more content.
Like I said, although it makes no sense, the last of the letters hit me hard – as if the outcome was in doubt. I cried – suddenly and without any apparent warning. It was weird. I had started to get the same near-nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had for weeks after the breakup and through the time with Andrea at her cabin and then of course again when I found out that Destini had ‘reciprocated’ in her way. Back when I didn’t really want to blow my own head off so much as I wanted someone else to do it for me. I don’t remember the last time I actually cried. I am the kind of guy, for better or worse, that gets teary-eyed at emotional movies – but I don’t usually actually sob or anything. Yesterday it felt like I had forgotten how to cry. It was halting and stilted and unnatural. It didn’t last long. I didn’t like it. And I didn’t really feel any better after I had done it, like you’re supposed to. I cried for what is gone, what is past, and what can never be again.
It’s really not possible to meet anyone like Destini was ever again, but I think if I did, I would do my best to turn her away. It wouldn’t be right to put anyone through the dizzying highs and correspondingly crushing lows that we were subject to.
I went through a stage after the relationship during which I didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it in matter-of-fact “my girlfriend and I broke up” kind of terms, because I thought it was so much more than that. She and I had something that defied “conventional wisdom” or dumb clichés. Then after a while, I began to be more casual about it. I was informed that everyone had something like that in their past and everyone’s hurt and everyone has to move on.
Well, I think I’m back to where I was. Far from moving on – I am stuck in time. I have gone thousands of miles out of my way in order to return to the same place, to come – if not full circle, at least most of the way. I can compare individual moments or deeds or events or brief periods to other people and relate to them in that way, but the time with her as a whole is unique, and I am sticking to that. It is not like anyone else or anything else. It is – was – ours and only ours. There were countless ups and downs and things that I complained about, but underlying our relationship together as a whole is something no one else can even approach. I’m confident that I will never be loved or looked upon the same way by any woman ever again, and I can say with all certainty that I have that Destini will never be loved by any man ever again in the way that I loved her.
I am not so unrealistic any more as to believe that the two of us could ever really reconstruct what we had. It would, in all likelihood, be too painful to try.
The whole thing has, as I think I’ve said before, pretty much kept me from getting involved too much with anyone else, though I’ve had some limited opportunities (none for about the last eight months, however). Anything that gets even remotely close is shut down pretty quickly. Last November, I effectively ditched the girl I was “seeing” by not asking her to the Plant show until the day of the event, because I was waiting for Destini to tell me that she wanted to go. She never did, and the other girl – who is a really cool person and fun to be around – knew about it. Not surprisingly, we didn’t “see each other” any more after that.
I had a dream last night. It was some sort of confrontation between whoever is in her life right now and myself. The guy was called Matt (Baxter – whom I refer to as “the cokehead”) – but it was not. For some reason, there was a series of things that we had to compete in, and this guy was not the little shit that the cokehead is; this was a much bigger guy and I felt real fear. Not actually fear of him, but fear that I would not be able to beat him and show that I was indeed better.
For many years, I’ve had dreams where I am in a fight and while I feel powerful and confident in myself and my abilities in the dream, I can’t seem to connect with my punches. They are either off-target and glance off, or they are not as strong as I feel like they should be. If I had to take a guess, I think I could figure out what that probably symbolizes.
Anyway, last night was the same story. I had all the rage and adrenaline in the world, but I couldn’t put the guy away the way I felt I was eminently capable of doing. I think part of the reason for this is that I’ve never been in a real fight and I’m not sure of how I would do if I had to fight someone.
Well, either the dream ended before the outcome could be reached or I don’t remember what happened. That’s the kind of sleep where you wake up and you are not exactly refreshed.
___________
Speaking of fights, I had the pleasure of running into Jess Moyer yesterday at Sears. I even shook his hand. He and Jim Ribaudo were walking through the mall gearing up for their camping excursion with other people from Cummins. I stifled the urge to ask Jess if he had been arrested lately. I don’t think I can count the number of dreams I’ve had about winning a fight with Jess. Of course, when we see each other now, the way he treated me through the majority of our adolescence is never a topic of discussion, and he acts like we’re old friends. It’s somewhat exasperating.
______________
Later, I approached a customer and asked if he needed any help. The guy turned around and it was Abe, recently returned from the South – New Orleans, parts of Florida, Kentucky, Tennessee, and elsewhere. It was good to see Abe and talk with him about his last six months or so. We were going to hang out last night, but he ended up going to the Casino in Bemus Point with his brother. I almost asked him to say hi to Destini if he saw her, but I didn’t. That was the last place I saw her – in late July last year. But he’ll probably see her at Blue Heron in a few more days anyway.
______________
I need to write my reviews of the Philly shows soon, while I can remember any of what happened. I just haven’t had the ambition. Next Wednesday is the Toronto show.
The majority of those letters were just amazing in their expression of love. I remember the days that she describes in those words. It seems that we were immeasurably younger and more confident in ourselves and in our ability to survive anything and everything. I was talking to one of my married friends not too long ago about how Destini and I had not spoken very much about marriage. I remembered that I had asked her very early on whether she wanted that and she had disappointed me somewhat by saying that she really didn’t. However, I found a letter yesterday from the mid-to-late period of the relationship that refers to her happiness at something that I said to her about getting married and how it was something she wanted, which of course made me feel just a little bit worse than I had been feeling already. It’s probably sick to hang onto this kind of thing. I just can’t possibly imagine throwing it away. Those letters are such an incredible body of work that provides tremendous insight into the feelings of the most important person I’ve known in my life.
I didn’t read every one yesterday. I read a few lines from every third or fourth page and every so often I would read an entire note. I kind of expected a progression from the almost delirious beginnings to the peak of our happiness and then a downward movement as the end approached. But it seems for the most part that Des wrote mainly when she had something incredibly nice and loving to say. So there was really just a sharp downturn toward the very, very end and it shocked me a little bit. As much as you can be shocked by something when you already know the outcome, that is. This is the girl that quoted Led Zeppelin lyrics back to me, even to the last. One of the letters she wrote to me while I was in Colorado was sent in an envelope that had “Since I’ve Been Loving You” on the back. I don’t know why I kept reading when things got ugly. It hit me hard – again, like it was unexpected? Of course, if life followed the desires of my mind, the story would have changed – Butterfly Effect style, if anyone’s seen that movie – and as I got to the “end,” the bad stuff wouldn’t be there and there would be many letters after the last one. Des would come walking into the room, take one glance at the folder and smile, asking me why I was going through those again. However, as some people like to point out to me, my life is not a movie and that kind of thing doesn’t really happen. And if it is a movie, it’s pretty goddamn depressing in many ways.
Those were days when friends would tell me I had never seemed happier or more content.
Like I said, although it makes no sense, the last of the letters hit me hard – as if the outcome was in doubt. I cried – suddenly and without any apparent warning. It was weird. I had started to get the same near-nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had for weeks after the breakup and through the time with Andrea at her cabin and then of course again when I found out that Destini had ‘reciprocated’ in her way. Back when I didn’t really want to blow my own head off so much as I wanted someone else to do it for me. I don’t remember the last time I actually cried. I am the kind of guy, for better or worse, that gets teary-eyed at emotional movies – but I don’t usually actually sob or anything. Yesterday it felt like I had forgotten how to cry. It was halting and stilted and unnatural. It didn’t last long. I didn’t like it. And I didn’t really feel any better after I had done it, like you’re supposed to. I cried for what is gone, what is past, and what can never be again.
It’s really not possible to meet anyone like Destini was ever again, but I think if I did, I would do my best to turn her away. It wouldn’t be right to put anyone through the dizzying highs and correspondingly crushing lows that we were subject to.
I went through a stage after the relationship during which I didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it in matter-of-fact “my girlfriend and I broke up” kind of terms, because I thought it was so much more than that. She and I had something that defied “conventional wisdom” or dumb clichés. Then after a while, I began to be more casual about it. I was informed that everyone had something like that in their past and everyone’s hurt and everyone has to move on.
Well, I think I’m back to where I was. Far from moving on – I am stuck in time. I have gone thousands of miles out of my way in order to return to the same place, to come – if not full circle, at least most of the way. I can compare individual moments or deeds or events or brief periods to other people and relate to them in that way, but the time with her as a whole is unique, and I am sticking to that. It is not like anyone else or anything else. It is – was – ours and only ours. There were countless ups and downs and things that I complained about, but underlying our relationship together as a whole is something no one else can even approach. I’m confident that I will never be loved or looked upon the same way by any woman ever again, and I can say with all certainty that I have that Destini will never be loved by any man ever again in the way that I loved her.
I am not so unrealistic any more as to believe that the two of us could ever really reconstruct what we had. It would, in all likelihood, be too painful to try.
The whole thing has, as I think I’ve said before, pretty much kept me from getting involved too much with anyone else, though I’ve had some limited opportunities (none for about the last eight months, however). Anything that gets even remotely close is shut down pretty quickly. Last November, I effectively ditched the girl I was “seeing” by not asking her to the Plant show until the day of the event, because I was waiting for Destini to tell me that she wanted to go. She never did, and the other girl – who is a really cool person and fun to be around – knew about it. Not surprisingly, we didn’t “see each other” any more after that.
I had a dream last night. It was some sort of confrontation between whoever is in her life right now and myself. The guy was called Matt (Baxter – whom I refer to as “the cokehead”) – but it was not. For some reason, there was a series of things that we had to compete in, and this guy was not the little shit that the cokehead is; this was a much bigger guy and I felt real fear. Not actually fear of him, but fear that I would not be able to beat him and show that I was indeed better.
For many years, I’ve had dreams where I am in a fight and while I feel powerful and confident in myself and my abilities in the dream, I can’t seem to connect with my punches. They are either off-target and glance off, or they are not as strong as I feel like they should be. If I had to take a guess, I think I could figure out what that probably symbolizes.
Anyway, last night was the same story. I had all the rage and adrenaline in the world, but I couldn’t put the guy away the way I felt I was eminently capable of doing. I think part of the reason for this is that I’ve never been in a real fight and I’m not sure of how I would do if I had to fight someone.
Well, either the dream ended before the outcome could be reached or I don’t remember what happened. That’s the kind of sleep where you wake up and you are not exactly refreshed.
___________
Speaking of fights, I had the pleasure of running into Jess Moyer yesterday at Sears. I even shook his hand. He and Jim Ribaudo were walking through the mall gearing up for their camping excursion with other people from Cummins. I stifled the urge to ask Jess if he had been arrested lately. I don’t think I can count the number of dreams I’ve had about winning a fight with Jess. Of course, when we see each other now, the way he treated me through the majority of our adolescence is never a topic of discussion, and he acts like we’re old friends. It’s somewhat exasperating.
______________
Later, I approached a customer and asked if he needed any help. The guy turned around and it was Abe, recently returned from the South – New Orleans, parts of Florida, Kentucky, Tennessee, and elsewhere. It was good to see Abe and talk with him about his last six months or so. We were going to hang out last night, but he ended up going to the Casino in Bemus Point with his brother. I almost asked him to say hi to Destini if he saw her, but I didn’t. That was the last place I saw her – in late July last year. But he’ll probably see her at Blue Heron in a few more days anyway.
______________
I need to write my reviews of the Philly shows soon, while I can remember any of what happened. I just haven’t had the ambition. Next Wednesday is the Toronto show.
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