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I've been going out and being more social as of late. Been a tad dapper, too. Confidence at an all time high. Looking smooth. Got my Chris Isaak croon down. I think it's time for open mike night. My fantasy as a teenager was to be a crooner that all of the women in their late thirties swooned over. Just impeccably dressed...velvet vocals...tales of woes new and old...gorgeous piano and strings...handing out singe white roses to the women in the front row...Man that sounds gas. Here's another story. Still heartsick...but frisky too.
(part two in a two part saga to help those "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" types get through Valentines Day. Stay positive, y'all. I know it's gonna happen someday for eveyone...fuckin' Morrissey! Always at the heart of this type of nonsense.)
"I just don't want to love again. I can't feel my arms. It's like an anesthetic."
"What's there to be so dramatic about, Stacey? Jesus."
"He was just so...I guess the word is right. I dunno. He made me laugh. He knew all of my stupid jokes. He used 'em too! I hate this feeling, Trish!"
"Maybe he wasn't ready to be so serious yet. Did he have anyone else?"
"Oh, Trish he had just gotten out of some long term thing with a college girl. Y'know. A comfortable groove relationship. No effort and shit. I just dunno, Trish. I dunno."
"So he's still in that post-funk then?"
"I guess so...but what about the sparks, Trish? Shouldn't that count for something?"
"You guys just had some good times together. You got on well. He doesn't even know what he wants right now. Be patient. Maintain, girl. He'll either come around or some other guy'll notice how wonderful you are. So you can't lose, Stacey."
"I just believe so hard sometimes that I can't see tomorrow without him staring back at me...wanting me, you know? You went through that, right?"
'Stacey, I don't believe in it. It's just not there for me. I have flings. It works for awhile. I meet the friends. We run out of spark. And then it washes away. My own personal tide, Stacey. I just try to enjoy it."
"Nothing ever works out for me either, Trish. But I've never gave up believing in love. I just can't. I work hard to make myself loveable. I work through that loathing...that loneliness...that notion that no one could ever possibly understand how I think or feel. Maybe he's just not into being loved."
"What do you mean, Stace?"
"From what I hear, his last girl was just a user. The kind of bitch that drags people into unwarranted drama. I dunno. He told me a bunch of stories from his college days and they all sounded horrible to me. But maybe he's subconciously drawn to destruction and trying to salvage love out of ruin instead of someone returning love to him equally. Maybe he had a fucked up childhood or something? I dunno. I guess I'm just trying to rationalize my own worthlessness..."
"Stacey, I actually think you might be on to something. But don't think for a minute that you're not worth anything. I can't say that I've ever met or read about anyone as decent and fun as you. So stop that bullshit. Or I'm going to bitch slap you...ring side out."
"I guess you're right, Trish. I just can't stop thinking about what's wrong with me instead of thinking about what's wrong with HIM. I can't help it."
"Maybe he was abused or something."
"No, nothing like that. He's a real open guy. He would have told me about that."
"Guys are just plain fucking weird anyway. Why the fuck are we talking about this? Isn't there a bar near this fucking dive of a sandwich shop?"
"Well, Trish maybe he had too much love. Yeah, I think we're on to it! He's has so much love, attention, praise, and gifts his whole life so that receptor is like all dulled from overstimulation or something."
"You're talking fucking nonsense, girl. The guys just a fucking uptown asshole. I can't understand why you trouble yourself over this shit. Those fuckers aren't worth it."
"But he's not like them, Trish. He's got all of the same pastimes as me. Y'know he's not into clubbing and sports and cars. He's pretty down to earth, really."
"I know you two have chemistry. I've seen you both in conversation. If he can't see how special you are, I don't care if he's going to Julliard doing MacBeth. This fucking guy may not look like a snobby prick...he just wears it a little better with all of that bohemian jive. Fuck him."
"Well, maybe with time. You know space for him to heal a little. He will come around and want to spend more time with me. I believe in love, Trish. I know it's going to happen. I just have to keep believing. I have to maintain ties."
"Stacey, you're starting to piss me off. Do you know how many people are into the arts in this city? Don't you think there just might be a guy out there who is not a spoiled little dick? Maybe this hypothetical guy is all of what you are looking for! And what if you do finally win this fucking uptown bastards eye for awhile?"
"I'm going to bring him all of the joy that those previously in his life have never brought him. I'm going to be the girl of his dreams."
"That's well and good. And I know you mean it, sister. But do you think that little fuck will appreciate it after awhile? Hell, I worked daycare for three years while I was in college. I know what a spoiled brat looks like. They get the new toy on Friday from their helpless parents...by Thursday of next week they've completely forgotten about it. No matter how expensive, this little fucking brat was done with it. Those type of kids at the kennel will never appreciate anything that's in front of them...for the rest of their lives. This was how they were raised. And they will die this way unless they get some kind of miracle treatment or Eastern religion or something. I am not going to stand by and watch my lady become some used up Cabbage Patch doll to some heartless lawyer's son."
"I can always count on you, Trish. You always have the right pick me up. So what's next, do you think?"
"Keep believing in love, Lady Stacey. You give the rest of us schmucks the idea that the world might keep spinning tomorrow. Your unflinching optimism in the middle of the cesspool of greed and self interest keeps many a razor blade from many a wrist. You will find love one day. But it's not going to be with this prick."
"But I see the kindness and love in his heart. I know that there is goodness inside all of those things you said. When the time is right, I will be there to love him and make him feel not so much like a Conquering King's object."
"You are the walking christ, hon. You can love anyone unconditionally. I would crown you, but I think Rosie's is going to open in five minutes and I'm not waiting any longer for tequila."
"I think I'm ready to unwind, too."
"Stacey, with all of that earth on your back...I'm surprised you're ready for anything."
"Fuck you bitch, let's get blotto."
"So it is written...so it shall be done!"
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Scott Walker
Gal Costa
Josef K
Arthur Russell
Weird War
Boris
Swell Maps
Smokey & Miho
You guys are awesome...thanks for putting up with me.
I've been going out and being more social as of late. Been a tad dapper, too. Confidence at an all time high. Looking smooth. Got my Chris Isaak croon down. I think it's time for open mike night. My fantasy as a teenager was to be a crooner that all of the women in their late thirties swooned over. Just impeccably dressed...velvet vocals...tales of woes new and old...gorgeous piano and strings...handing out singe white roses to the women in the front row...Man that sounds gas. Here's another story. Still heartsick...but frisky too.
(part two in a two part saga to help those "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" types get through Valentines Day. Stay positive, y'all. I know it's gonna happen someday for eveyone...fuckin' Morrissey! Always at the heart of this type of nonsense.)
"I just don't want to love again. I can't feel my arms. It's like an anesthetic."
"What's there to be so dramatic about, Stacey? Jesus."
"He was just so...I guess the word is right. I dunno. He made me laugh. He knew all of my stupid jokes. He used 'em too! I hate this feeling, Trish!"
"Maybe he wasn't ready to be so serious yet. Did he have anyone else?"
"Oh, Trish he had just gotten out of some long term thing with a college girl. Y'know. A comfortable groove relationship. No effort and shit. I just dunno, Trish. I dunno."
"So he's still in that post-funk then?"
"I guess so...but what about the sparks, Trish? Shouldn't that count for something?"
"You guys just had some good times together. You got on well. He doesn't even know what he wants right now. Be patient. Maintain, girl. He'll either come around or some other guy'll notice how wonderful you are. So you can't lose, Stacey."
"I just believe so hard sometimes that I can't see tomorrow without him staring back at me...wanting me, you know? You went through that, right?"
'Stacey, I don't believe in it. It's just not there for me. I have flings. It works for awhile. I meet the friends. We run out of spark. And then it washes away. My own personal tide, Stacey. I just try to enjoy it."
"Nothing ever works out for me either, Trish. But I've never gave up believing in love. I just can't. I work hard to make myself loveable. I work through that loathing...that loneliness...that notion that no one could ever possibly understand how I think or feel. Maybe he's just not into being loved."
"What do you mean, Stace?"
"From what I hear, his last girl was just a user. The kind of bitch that drags people into unwarranted drama. I dunno. He told me a bunch of stories from his college days and they all sounded horrible to me. But maybe he's subconciously drawn to destruction and trying to salvage love out of ruin instead of someone returning love to him equally. Maybe he had a fucked up childhood or something? I dunno. I guess I'm just trying to rationalize my own worthlessness..."
"Stacey, I actually think you might be on to something. But don't think for a minute that you're not worth anything. I can't say that I've ever met or read about anyone as decent and fun as you. So stop that bullshit. Or I'm going to bitch slap you...ring side out."
"I guess you're right, Trish. I just can't stop thinking about what's wrong with me instead of thinking about what's wrong with HIM. I can't help it."
"Maybe he was abused or something."
"No, nothing like that. He's a real open guy. He would have told me about that."
"Guys are just plain fucking weird anyway. Why the fuck are we talking about this? Isn't there a bar near this fucking dive of a sandwich shop?"
"Well, Trish maybe he had too much love. Yeah, I think we're on to it! He's has so much love, attention, praise, and gifts his whole life so that receptor is like all dulled from overstimulation or something."
"You're talking fucking nonsense, girl. The guys just a fucking uptown asshole. I can't understand why you trouble yourself over this shit. Those fuckers aren't worth it."
"But he's not like them, Trish. He's got all of the same pastimes as me. Y'know he's not into clubbing and sports and cars. He's pretty down to earth, really."
"I know you two have chemistry. I've seen you both in conversation. If he can't see how special you are, I don't care if he's going to Julliard doing MacBeth. This fucking guy may not look like a snobby prick...he just wears it a little better with all of that bohemian jive. Fuck him."
"Well, maybe with time. You know space for him to heal a little. He will come around and want to spend more time with me. I believe in love, Trish. I know it's going to happen. I just have to keep believing. I have to maintain ties."
"Stacey, you're starting to piss me off. Do you know how many people are into the arts in this city? Don't you think there just might be a guy out there who is not a spoiled little dick? Maybe this hypothetical guy is all of what you are looking for! And what if you do finally win this fucking uptown bastards eye for awhile?"
"I'm going to bring him all of the joy that those previously in his life have never brought him. I'm going to be the girl of his dreams."
"That's well and good. And I know you mean it, sister. But do you think that little fuck will appreciate it after awhile? Hell, I worked daycare for three years while I was in college. I know what a spoiled brat looks like. They get the new toy on Friday from their helpless parents...by Thursday of next week they've completely forgotten about it. No matter how expensive, this little fucking brat was done with it. Those type of kids at the kennel will never appreciate anything that's in front of them...for the rest of their lives. This was how they were raised. And they will die this way unless they get some kind of miracle treatment or Eastern religion or something. I am not going to stand by and watch my lady become some used up Cabbage Patch doll to some heartless lawyer's son."
"I can always count on you, Trish. You always have the right pick me up. So what's next, do you think?"
"Keep believing in love, Lady Stacey. You give the rest of us schmucks the idea that the world might keep spinning tomorrow. Your unflinching optimism in the middle of the cesspool of greed and self interest keeps many a razor blade from many a wrist. You will find love one day. But it's not going to be with this prick."
"But I see the kindness and love in his heart. I know that there is goodness inside all of those things you said. When the time is right, I will be there to love him and make him feel not so much like a Conquering King's object."
"You are the walking christ, hon. You can love anyone unconditionally. I would crown you, but I think Rosie's is going to open in five minutes and I'm not waiting any longer for tequila."
"I think I'm ready to unwind, too."
"Stacey, with all of that earth on your back...I'm surprised you're ready for anything."
"Fuck you bitch, let's get blotto."
"So it is written...so it shall be done!"
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Scott Walker
Gal Costa
Josef K
Arthur Russell
Weird War
Boris
Swell Maps
Smokey & Miho
You guys are awesome...thanks for putting up with me.