pink cadillac

So shiny on the lot. You can see yourself riding down the highway with the sartorially correct long hair so it can blow through the wind. The envious looks all the guys give you when you pull up in front of the corner store to pick up (again sartorially correct) a pack of smokes. But do they know that you have to stick your hand out of the window to signal left? Or that you have to let your passenger in first so they can let you in, or crawl across the passenger side to get to the drivers seat?

Do you really know what you're getting into?

It could be criminal to compare humans to cars, some type of cruel guy-speak cliché, but I'm going on a blind date on Saturday, and I'm worried. He just seems, well, so nice. I'm worried if he really knows what he's getting into. I mean my shock seemed to be accurately concealed when he told me he'd never really passed out drunk. And he's not boring-nice (from what I gathered in our lengthy conversation last night), which is good.

Because boring-nice is the worst of the worst- usually ending up as the other half of a suburban couple, who's big thrill of the month is going out to a movie (probably a Will Smith tearjerker) and maybe a drink after, but most likely before, so they can lightly pet each other during the show and pretend they're still teenagers and that was, of course, one of the most rebellious things they've done. They still live in the same town they grew up in and have no intention of leaving. "A vacation to Mexico? That's dangerous. We might get killed or, even worse, contract Hepatitis C from an ice cube."

I digress. Already, i'm foreshadowing way too far into what might be exactly like my last blind date: A 40 minute snooze fest, where not even booze could distract me from the 'Jaws'- like soundtrack racing through my mind, and the sense of impending doom that if I stuck around any longer I might be inadvertantly lead down the path to suburban hell.

So, I shall tune up the pink caddie for Saturday and be on my best behavior.
And now, three things I'm grateful for in the last 24 hours:
1. "Blame it on the scotch?" "Yeah that nectar d'or sure leads you astray." Aaaaand closure.
2. Coconut Records is making me happy today. Thanks tips.
3. That 'family friend' is such a broad and ambiguous word.

the guilt spiral

Usually on sunday, after a long weekend of sinning, the guilt spiral comes calling. Visual snatchets of bad behavior while intoxicated, or messy hookups are rampant in my thoughts, and I can't stop feeling bad about it. This weekend however, the guilt spiral has moved to today. Because I woke up drunk this morning, and now I can relive what I did last night. Basically there was cards, scotch, a good friend and a surprise ending. And the surprise ending wasn't actually a surprise, because I could see it coming, like a raging freight train, and naively thought I could stop it. No matter, the eventuality has happened, and now, I'm sure the guilt spiral will slowly subside as my body slowly reverts to sobriety.

There is one guilt sprial that has been weighing on me for over a year. 'Ronnie' was my manager at a previous job, and our connection was undeniable. He was several decades older than me and was blessed with premature balding and a short stature, but was punctuated by lively green eyes and a seriously cheerful disposition. Like a happy little elf. His bad days never really showed, but I knew they were becoming more of a habit. We could talk forever, about everything, and most important, about those things you think about but never say. I loved him and he loved me and we told each other. Then one night, I went over to his place after being out with some friends. I was quite tipsy, but I thought I knew what kind of situation I was walking in to. I mean I was aware that he wanted to be with me, but he knew that I didn't ever want to be with him in that way. There was drugs and music and dancing and things happened that shocked me, and I don't ever speak about it (until I wrote about it today). Ronnie has since gone to AA and has been sober for a while. But it was a dark night for both of us, and I lost a friend that I loved. I have a hard time even speaking to him on the phone. I know it's not his fault- it's both of ours- but I just don't want to think about what happened, and speaking to him brings back a lot of memories.

Guilt spirals can be short lived or enduring, but what would life be without them. Boring.
So, to slightly alieve some spiral action today, three things I am grateful for this weekend:
1. Good talks with good friends.
2. A really good sweat session Saturday- probably needed.
3. Beating the pants off of my friend last night in crib.

my favorite thing of 2008

In lieu of the usual New Year's Eve resolutions, I'm just going to share my favorite thing to do. I did this last night, and it was infinitley relaxing. So if the New Year is to be relaxing, I will have to continue participating in the ritual I discovered in 2008: Running a bubble bath, lighting a candle, putting on some music (like Beirut or Broken Social Scene- my version of mellow -or reggae) and sipping on a nice single malt while smoking a pinner and reading a riveting book. (Like Tom Robbins' 'Jitterbug Perfume'). Heaven.