Well, Fuck Pt.3

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“Hello I Must Be Going,”  a relateable theme, and film  in my life.

What a fucking week. What a weekend! I threw my back out, breathing.

You know, just being middle-aged you throw your back out for no reason at all. So I have been keeping busy and keeping a distance, which has been really rough because, “so and so,” has had a rough weekend too… you know I want to be there and make sure all is copasetic and all that… but I gotta be okay too.

So, I shelp my teenage son with me to go crate-digging in the buck-bins at a nearby record store, and I anticipated I would be sneezing and coughing from dust, the remainder of the weekend (which I have,) but it was worth it with all the scores I found on vinyl, wow. But that is for an entirely other blog.

I have kept my distance, yet so has he — I am sure for his own reasons ( work, life, hangovers, stuff) but for me, for now, he knows nothing.

Like NOTHING.

I have concluded that I wish him love and happiness, and I know he will be ok through all he has been going through the past almost 9 months we have been talking and texting. Meanwhile, well I accidentally  fell in, well I.. just stumbled into really caring about him . so very, very much…I just have no words.

Lyrics- yes, many many lyrics. But words. Very different.

So ….yeah I have been trying to keep very….. very busy. I still have all the records out and divided up from what, 3 weeks ago when we were spinning wax on late winter’s night.

So I thought I will keep them out and divide them  up into genre. So I came up with these: ( I have to go into this shit, as I must stay distracted… I can’t just think about how things  would possibly all blow up in my face, or won’t work out…or just what a great person he is…when he meets someone he really does want to date… I gotta just stay busy- so here I am, over here watch me staying busy!) That reminds me of a Jerky Boys call, with Jack Tors. ” Watch Me Spin, Watch Me go!”

I  digress….Records..OK!- Genres include- 40’s – 50’s – then 60’s ( singer-songwriters/ bands), 70’s ( Sub: Singer-Songwriters/ Bands) 80’s ( Sub: pop/rock/punk), Comedy, Spoken Word ( for all my McKuen), Novelty and Compilations. There it is–and in the midst…of it all yeah my back goes out and I am not stepping around thousands of records half divided up into piles around my floor. I mean this is a good thing, I think it almost is a blessing in disguise, I say this because It gives me something to do- and…

Dammit he’s texing.

Of course I answer in two seconds because I am nuts for the fucker. Me eating cream cheese out of a container some some stupid mini spoon( bless the Ketogenic lifestyle) and writing this saving grace blog.

Hi Hi.. he writes.

Hey Hey Hey, I respond.

*Crickets*

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No, I did not eat this entire container. But my heart won’t let my stomach, stomach much else but gin martinis with large olives ( too many carbs!) and well, this cream cheese. Adulting at it’s finest.

Ok then; SO… the records are left so it will give me something to focus on and plan to do after work this week. I am back to the long commute tomorrow. I don’t mind it so much, as it gives me time to cry in the car,  listen to music and get centered before work, honestly, I have a lot going on in my life besides this, and a lot more shit to deal with so, trust me — I am not all weeping-willowy over this shit, i just hear a song sometimes, alot of the time that reminds me of him. I could finish this playlist that I started from Well Fuck Part 1. But.. Hm.

So I am taking a Facebook break. Yeah… It’s like going to the social media mikvah.

That was damn funny. Social Media Mikvah. HA!  I just thought of that…!

So, yeah ( and he still hasnt responded back, so I write and continue…) I took the FB break and start my commute– I am supposed to go see George Thoroughgood next Saturday, which should be fun, but the company will be rough since my mind will be elsewhere.

I know, I know, I should just go and enjoy- but the way I am feeling it isn’t so easy… and he tells me that he is just ” a mess ” I feel awful and want to help in the mean time I can’t go telling him how I feel. No way, never. It is like in the movie “Love Actually,” when  the guy from The Walking Dead visits Kiera Knightley and after which he says “Enough…” I can’t do it to me, or him…. and if he knew I would be mortified. COMPLETELY.

But, then again… you never know. It would be healthy for him to move on. But no matter how great a person, I may think I would be for him, If he aint ready- well,  “A Twat is a twat and that is that” as George Carlin would say.

But I am having an interesting conversation about my simplistic, even mimimlistic responses in a text messages by a pseudo-suitor, or at least wants to be and they are expressing  how ” I don’t let people get to know me.”

Well shit, my brain is kinda occupied at the moment… but they did say “how is a common layperson supposed to get to know you, as you are quite an uncommon creature” Which I, personally, thought was flattering. But the way I a feeling, flattery will get no one anywhere…

These entries are so goddammed scattered which is so far from who I have become in the past six years.

Me: Funny, but  a ittle stoic in the workplace, results and action driven, goal-oriented, OVERLY organized at work, and pretty much at home ( except for my record collection and hair products) other than that- I am pretty simplistic and naturally a happy person.

So this other text is going on and, stil; crickets from ” so and so.”.. so I have emersed myself into a text convo bout Sacco and Vanetti and modern-day, anti-authoritarian concepts and modern day Anarchy and the crossover on todays “trend,” of Minimalism.That morphed into a conversation about Radiohead’s “OK Computer,” vs ” KID A.” Sigh. Talk about “let down and hanging around – crushed like a bug on the ground.”

Really? When I wish Sir So and So , would just come over and kiss me hard ( Kiss me Hard, Crybaby Kiss Me Hard!) and stare into my eyes with his awesome eyes and just lay here and watch TV, and just be. I mean every time he talks to me or smiles at me, I just…am so screwed arent I? I am screwed.

I gotta go to bed,  I thought this post would have some form of resolve of.. ” I am done and moving on.” You heart really does do the choosing.

My stomach hurts from the cream cheese. I am getting  diet coke and going to bed.

Song Pairing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HdhikXRlWB4

Movie Scene Paring  ( the “Enough” Scene ) : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7u6bMBlCXw

Good Night. zzzzz.

 

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Well, Fuck Pt.2

Now that I’m home and had some time to put this into some reasonable sense, I don’t even know if I should keep up part one. But I am a smartcookie, and I don’t want to write like someone is looking over my shoulder. The chances anyone is reading this is close to zero. If you are then comment below, ::Crickets::

I mean the whole “thing,” whatever “this,” is. Is it words or feelings? I have the feels yeah, but hey, I can’t be apologetic about it. It is what it is, I feel like I have broken some unspoken rules of friendship. I mean have I? I am usually the one who is aloof and very together, logical.. but Well, Fuck, I love how I feel about MYSELF just being around him.

I really love being around him, he has a good soul. I like listening to him talk… I like watching his mouth move when he talks…I like seeing him smile and look at me like I am crazy when I laugh at myself uncontrollably. I feel like an idiot around him, kind of giddy and I can’t remember half the things I am saying because I am stating at him and my heart is pounding out of my chest so hard. I have never had these kind of reactions with someone before. EVER. I mean this shit started happening, so much that I went to the fucking doctor! Nothing. Everytime he would text… Boom Boom Boom… my heart would pound. I chocked it up to… whatever. Then I started noticing a real connection.

It was similar to a panic attack, but more of excitement. So I ask my Dr, who knows me really well… he knows I am not a rash or that I do not do things impusively or obsessively. I am a pretty damn straight-forward thinking woman, with a good head on her shoulders. I have my moments but far from the strange and stalkery women I have known in my past. Holy crap. I have always steered clear of those kinds of people and found them quite intrustive in my life and lives of others.

But even with formers, I did not find myself with these physical symptoms of attraction… so Doc asked if I had the following:screenshot-2017-03-02-at-8-47-04-pm

* butterflies

*heart palpitations

*shortness of breath

*stomach pain

*loss of sleep

Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. He asked if anyone was on my mind…Oh COME ON! Seriously.He took pity on me and gave me a few 10mg of valium, and sent me on my way. So, with all this logic and straight forward thinking. Still the heart does it’s own thing. I am trying to shake it off like a cold or something but alas it doesn’t work like that.

Whenever I am near him, I swear to god, its like  I can’t help it, I am so weirded out by this… it is out of my in-control charachter. Most of my side of conversations with him in person go something like THIS . He is amazing company…and great to be around. I miss him when he’s not around. Normal shit, right?

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But, I do my thing, I do not go out of my way to see him, or contact him.I act so stupid, I think when I am around him. If I smoke around him I am more relaxed but not less nervous. Argh. Such as life. I guess I am wondering what he is thinking. I dare not ask and don’t want to know. I just don’t. I’d rather err on the side of, I don’t know.

I made him a playlist, it was a total 80 songs long. Like some Time-Life collection. Who rips 80 SONGS for a playlist…!

Who Am I?

 

Movie Pairng: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbHxNLzmNkA

Music Pairing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Pv_IZoQDbI

 

Sad Songs They Say So Much, Kinda.

My computer crashed on me at least 7 or 8 times this morning before I could even get started on this blog, I was rethinking yesterdays post. Hm.  I am resolving that  I should have probably worked on research paper that I have due quite soon.

After my ridiculous time I put into my yesterday’s blog, I headed home yet at the last minute detoured into Summerlin Parkway and headed straight for the mountains, into what they call Downtown Summerlin now. A new suburban area with shops and crap.

I sat in a parking lot at Downtown Summerlin looking around wondering if I should take myself to a movie or head home. Dammit.

I opted for take out Chinese, and went home with food and a frown. I told myself I would go crazy  if I had to spend another Saturday night looking at my four walls. Yet, started feeling really ill after I ate. So of course I started Googling health issues. Bad idea.

Since I was an early teen, my step dad ( a doctor), always had DSM’s laying around. I would sit and diagnose myself with ever disease possible .  I was quite an intense young lady.  Nothing much has changed except for maturity and acceptance.

I was diagnosed with really bad panic attacks around the age 17 and they have stuck around pretty much all my life but now I can take it with a grain of salt.

Reading helped. Music helped. Yet I always find myself steering toward the equally troubled sorts of artists. Maybe not officially troubled but those with a seemingly somber sadness.

Song writers like Paul Williams, who is quite apologetic in his music. Emotional with words questioning love– love that will never be or that was, rainy days–Mondays.

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He just gets me. There is so much regret and sadness enmeshed in his lyrics as he waxes poetic over his unique vocal styling. I adored him in Phantom of the Paradise. One of the songs in the film, directed by Brian De Palma is called “Faust”. The song starts out with a hauntingly,” soul-be-damned” piano intro, in which  William’s sets an immediate tone of complete regret and disparaging, gut wrenching, self flogging lyrics of utter failure and heartbreak- all before the second stanza.

On the soundtrack album which is fucking wonderful, William Finley sings it.

If you have the LP the song where William’s himself sings in a more laid back 70’s style, which plays out almost in a sense of “this situation has not only killed me but sucked the life out of my soul” gospel– and with a devilish ending guitar solo—you then realize William’s isn’t taking us to heaven….baby.

His version is so awesome it makes my vagina throb, I adore that man, his lyrics and music. (Not to mention he’s a stone 70’s singer songwriter fox!)

Faust

I was not myself last night
Couldn’t set things right with apologies or flowers
Out of place as a cryin’ clown who could only frown
And the play went on for hours

And as I lived my  role, I swore, I’d sell my soul for one love
Who would stand by me and give me back the gift of laughter
One love who would stand by me and after making love we’d

Dream a bit of style
We’d dream a bunch of friends
Dream each others smile….And dream it never ends

He gives us the excellent “Hell of It”,  ( I have never seen this footage of William’s stage performance before… wow) which brings us William’s love for ragtime piano, mixed with the “fuck you sounds of damnation”- that this soundtrack brings. It’s like Bugsy Malone meets Satan.

The lyrics alone have similar undertones of Harry Nilsson’s “Your’e Breaking My Heart”. 

Hell of It

Good for nothin’ bad in bed, nobody likes you
And you’re better off dead, goodbye
We’ve all come to say goodbye, goodbye

Born defeated died in vain
Super destructive, you were hooked on pain
And though your music lingers on
All of us are glad you’re gone

If I could live my life half as worthlessly as you
I’m convinced that I’d wind up burning too 

(partial lyrics)

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But why do these sad musical pontificates of regret, sadness and loss make me feel better? I am drawn to them like magnets. Speaking of magnets- I am absolutely drawn to the talents of Magnetic Fields’ song writer; Stephin Merritt

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According to his website,” House of Tomorrow”‘; Merritt has gained official recognition as one of the country’s best recent songwriters; the “Cole Porter of his generation”.

Nothing ever really works out for Merriit in his songs.

Someone always is sad, left behind, far away, only momentarily lucky, ugly, won’t dance with him, the dog’s leash is too long or just plain absolutely cuckoo.

Sounds like that sums up my typical day in my head in a very large nutshell 🙂

Many of his songs read like prose and are short, repetitive and to the point; and end thusly;

Reno Dakota

Reno Dakota there’s not an iota of kindness in you
You know you enthrall me and yet you don’t call me
It’s making me blue, Pantone 292

Reno Dakota I’m reaching my quota of tears for the year
Alas and alack you just don’t call me back
You have just disappeared
It makes me drink beer

I know you’re a recluse; you know that’s no excuse, Reno
That’s just a ruse
Do not play fast and loose with my heart

Reno Dakota I’m no Nino Rota; I don’t know the score
Have I annoyed you or is there a boy who– well he’s just a whore
I’ve had him before
It makes me drink more

But again why do these songs of sadness make me feel better, or do I just like feeling worse before feeling better. Maybe I just feel that these singer songwriter vocal and lyrical consolations help bring me a sense of  ” You are not alone”.

Still curious on why I will go for something more melancholy like  Merritt’s ” I Don’t Wanna Get Over You” than say, Van Halen’s “JUMP”?

According to Today.com , researchers say that emotive and over-romanticized sad songs evoke four distinct rewards.

First being allowed to feel sadness without any of its “real-life implications.” In other words, you can safely explore what it’s like to be a little blue without experiencing the intense grief of mourning a loved one. Even if it’s what you really may be going through, it’s someone else’s words.

Second reward was “Emotion regulation”– as apparently, experiencing sadness through music help to express and release your emotions.

Third was the reward of “imagination” letting us  feel as though we could express ourselves as richly and mournful as the music.

Last, the reward of  “empathy”, it makes us  feel good by sharing the sadness of another human being through the song.

I agree with bits and pieces of this study, I suppose.

Especially the empathy. But most of all I feel empathy for me in particular, as if I wrote the song or a living my situation through the song: like a really bad 90’s movie music montage ( example here…)

I mean if you have ever seen a group of drunk girls Karaoke the song ” Before He Cheats” you know what kind of pathetic empathy I am talking about.( Oye…) These girls may not be drunk in the video, but you get the picture.