The fella over at Introducing Liston (I believe his name is, ah, er... Liston) found this gem. Check it out for a Wednesday chuckle.
Introducing Liston
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
One of these things is not like the other...
*Disclaimer: I'm drunk. Very drunk. It's 6:35 on a Tuesday evening and I'm hammered. Now, while this might lead you to wonder what got me here, let's not focus on that at the moment. The following stream of consciousness thought is brought to you by Vodka.*
first, why am I here? There has been one major shift in my life, and I wonder if it's affecting (effecting?) everything in my life. My band broke up. Truthfully? My band kicked me out. Band kicks out the lead singer. Does that really happen? Oh my, yes.
Losing the band, while it seems trivial to some, has affected (effected?) me greatly. I have no outlet. I have no distraction. From life. From everything. From job. From girlfriend. I have no way for me to really express myself, which I think is the biggest thing that I miss. You can see it, and it must be very transparent, every time I watch a movie or a show wherein someone is a creative person, writing music or lyrics or both... and I say, "Man, I wish I played piano/guitar/flute, and man, I wish I had a band." It's awful. I think that's where Maggie and I begin having our (numerous) problems. When she met me, I was the frontman (that's fancy-speak for a singer) for a mildly successful local band. Our second date was at one of our fucking shows, at the fucking Fox Theatre in fucking Boulder, for Fuck's sake! Was she impressed? OF COURSE she was fucking impressed. And now? Now, I have nothing to impress her with. And that's not self-deprication for the sake of self-deprication. This is fact: I am not the same person she met and fell in love with. I am responsible.
Now how awful is that?
Now, not only do I not have a band, but i haven't written a lyric in six fucking months. The last three songs I wrote were about Maggie, and now I feel so numb to the idea of writing that i can't do it. Not even on my blog, for the two people that actually read my blog. How awful is that?
THAT, my friends, THAT is awful.
So that's where I am.
Maggie Chronicles: we're not together. It pains me every waking moment, truthfully. This isn't a matter of being with "someone" as it has been with Lauren, and to a lesser extent, Jenny. This is a matter of being with HER, with MAGGIE, with the one that I'm fucking crazy about. I've been with others. I've seen others, kissed others. It's not the same. I don't know how to explain that. Here's the rundown:
Josie: The person I met when Maggie and I first started our "break." She's very nice, we have great conversations, she is attractive, smart, funny. Ultimately, we don't fit. Don't know why. A few kisses here and there. We did not have sex.
Rebecca (Becky): Went to high school with Becky (now Rebecca). Rebecca was my editor at the high school paper. Rebecca (then Becky) fired me from the paper and failed me for the class. We went out to drinks, got drunk, and ended up making out. I came over to her new house and played Cable Guy, setting up her television. We took part in some heavy petting. We did not have sex.
MC (name redacted because it is somewhat unique and will show up in a Google search if I include it here, and I'm looking to protect the innocent): Lovely girl, met her on new years. Maggie was in Texas, working for an old friend on his farm. Blah. Hit on me. Danced with me. Enjoyed my company. Gorgeous, funny, interesting, LOUD. Eats sushi. Has two dogs, one of whom snores (fucking pugs. Seriously. if you have to have your nasal passages snaked upon birth, you do not deserve to live. There, I said it.), but has large breasts and no interest in having children. So there's no long term potential. I will be seeing her for happy hour tomorrow. Should be a complete disaster; I'll get you tickets.
Kim: Young. Too young. WAY too young. What the fuck am I doing here? Am I just falling, grabbing on to any (large) breasts that I can grab on the way down? Am I desperate? She's fun to fool around with and fun to drink with (illegally -- sorry, everyone), but... fuck me, she's 20 years old! I'm going to be 30 before she's 21! Is this okay? At all? Probably not. Cancelled plans with her this evening because there's no fucking way that can happen. And also because the *real* love of my life called me and reminded me that there's a dinner in her boyfriend's honor tonight. Shoot me. In the balls.
So that's that. And there's still Maggie in the picture. So.
Fuck me.
And of course, I just watched "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," which made me think that A) perhaps Maggie tried forever to get me where she wanted me to be, and B) maybe Maggie is in fact the devil. Should be an interesting couple of months here.
Any insight you three readers could give me would be appreciated.
first, why am I here? There has been one major shift in my life, and I wonder if it's affecting (effecting?) everything in my life. My band broke up. Truthfully? My band kicked me out. Band kicks out the lead singer. Does that really happen? Oh my, yes.
Losing the band, while it seems trivial to some, has affected (effected?) me greatly. I have no outlet. I have no distraction. From life. From everything. From job. From girlfriend. I have no way for me to really express myself, which I think is the biggest thing that I miss. You can see it, and it must be very transparent, every time I watch a movie or a show wherein someone is a creative person, writing music or lyrics or both... and I say, "Man, I wish I played piano/guitar/flute, and man, I wish I had a band." It's awful. I think that's where Maggie and I begin having our (numerous) problems. When she met me, I was the frontman (that's fancy-speak for a singer) for a mildly successful local band. Our second date was at one of our fucking shows, at the fucking Fox Theatre in fucking Boulder, for Fuck's sake! Was she impressed? OF COURSE she was fucking impressed. And now? Now, I have nothing to impress her with. And that's not self-deprication for the sake of self-deprication. This is fact: I am not the same person she met and fell in love with. I am responsible.
Now how awful is that?
Now, not only do I not have a band, but i haven't written a lyric in six fucking months. The last three songs I wrote were about Maggie, and now I feel so numb to the idea of writing that i can't do it. Not even on my blog, for the two people that actually read my blog. How awful is that?
THAT, my friends, THAT is awful.
So that's where I am.
Maggie Chronicles: we're not together. It pains me every waking moment, truthfully. This isn't a matter of being with "someone" as it has been with Lauren, and to a lesser extent, Jenny. This is a matter of being with HER, with MAGGIE, with the one that I'm fucking crazy about. I've been with others. I've seen others, kissed others. It's not the same. I don't know how to explain that. Here's the rundown:
Josie: The person I met when Maggie and I first started our "break." She's very nice, we have great conversations, she is attractive, smart, funny. Ultimately, we don't fit. Don't know why. A few kisses here and there. We did not have sex.
Rebecca (Becky): Went to high school with Becky (now Rebecca). Rebecca was my editor at the high school paper. Rebecca (then Becky) fired me from the paper and failed me for the class. We went out to drinks, got drunk, and ended up making out. I came over to her new house and played Cable Guy, setting up her television. We took part in some heavy petting. We did not have sex.
MC (name redacted because it is somewhat unique and will show up in a Google search if I include it here, and I'm looking to protect the innocent): Lovely girl, met her on new years. Maggie was in Texas, working for an old friend on his farm. Blah. Hit on me. Danced with me. Enjoyed my company. Gorgeous, funny, interesting, LOUD. Eats sushi. Has two dogs, one of whom snores (fucking pugs. Seriously. if you have to have your nasal passages snaked upon birth, you do not deserve to live. There, I said it.), but has large breasts and no interest in having children. So there's no long term potential. I will be seeing her for happy hour tomorrow. Should be a complete disaster; I'll get you tickets.
Kim: Young. Too young. WAY too young. What the fuck am I doing here? Am I just falling, grabbing on to any (large) breasts that I can grab on the way down? Am I desperate? She's fun to fool around with and fun to drink with (illegally -- sorry, everyone), but... fuck me, she's 20 years old! I'm going to be 30 before she's 21! Is this okay? At all? Probably not. Cancelled plans with her this evening because there's no fucking way that can happen. And also because the *real* love of my life called me and reminded me that there's a dinner in her boyfriend's honor tonight. Shoot me. In the balls.
So that's that. And there's still Maggie in the picture. So.
Fuck me.
And of course, I just watched "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," which made me think that A) perhaps Maggie tried forever to get me where she wanted me to be, and B) maybe Maggie is in fact the devil. Should be an interesting couple of months here.
Any insight you three readers could give me would be appreciated.
FINALLY!
On this most incredible of days...
In a time of much questioning, of much optimism...
When there is much uncertainty...
We are pleased to announce...
Sam Versus World's long-awaited return to the Blogosphere.
Have we had this "Hope" for "Change" before? Perhaps. But this time, we mean it.
We're putting our party pants on. And we're ready to rock.
In a time of much questioning, of much optimism...
When there is much uncertainty...
We are pleased to announce...
Sam Versus World's long-awaited return to the Blogosphere.
Have we had this "Hope" for "Change" before? Perhaps. But this time, we mean it.
We're putting our party pants on. And we're ready to rock.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
