Back to work...

"The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned." - William Somerset Maugham


...been an interesting week.

4th and ten to go...

Yikes. Three turned into day four, and as Rob and I were unable to meet up before his flight out due to traffic and forest fires and a car rental agency snafu, i went back to sleep.  The Stray and I arose late in the afternoon on a mission to find speakers for my shit computer (as he'd been screening rap battles the last couple evenings and some of the vids sound are crap, and my laptop speakers are toast too) he suggested a pawn shop on Pike on the Hill, and so off we went.I hadn't been in a pawn shop in a while, and certainly not one in hipster central...so after i spent $15 bux on some portable speakers, i couldn't help but troll the guitars. X was outside (it's totally not his gig) having a smoke, and i looked around, found a well-worn SG (gonna guess early '90s maybe) for $845. But I didn't even hesitate to take it off the rack and play it. I looked at a couple of basses, looked at some Fenders (just for kicks) and then left, full of malaise and longing.
That, however was crushed by a suggestion to hit Beth's for food (our first of the day) - so we cruised out to 99, and ate omlettes in the emptiest Beth's I've ever been in. Our server was groovy though, and we had some fun, even got the crayons to do a couple drawings. i did my usual smiley drunk punk face, elaborated a bit in style and captioned it "So. Many. Eggs"
He did a cool little hip-hop skull thing, that I dug so much i shoved it in my bag, which seemed to wig him out. It's hard cause my apartment is so empty he can't see how much stuff I accumulate in terms of personal keepstakes.
It's in a weird spot right at the moment, he and I. Me, because there are aspects to what is going on that I recognize and are a wasteful. I am walking a thin line between Shayesque excess, and some sort of weird understanding that even though the action is great - it's already changed, and I may have been too honest too soon, but it's strange. For him, it's surely a case of digging me intellectually, and in a physically compatible way, but not in an "in love" way. And again, as I have come to accept, it is because of how I look. And understandably, this kid can rock any hottie he wants. It would be full-on Harold and Maude (or worse, Graham and Sharon-type) shit otherwise, right?
Dunno. More for the hardcopy journal, and maybe that other spot I write sometimes.
Anyway, the bite at Beth's was good, and another successful run to an old spot to purge ghosts (that's why I like Supernatural so much, is because my life in the last months has been pure demon slaying and ghost encounters). Then we cut over to Ravenna, to pick up coffee beans and, of course, beer. He wasn't gonna stay, in fact, he really needed to hit the road, but came back again anyway. We drank, set up the speakers, watched more of his, and then he finally asked to see some Doctor Who, and so we watched the first couple of episodes until his roommate called as he was getting off work to give him a ride back to the boondocks.Oh, I also did his laundry. Cause i'm like that.
Anyway, it's all a bit weird, and still silence from SG, so I suppose the worst case scenario has in fact unfolded, but, I just can't worry about it much anymore. I'm so unsure how to feel in this situation - so amazingly scared to act on my instincts, unless all my barriers are down via chemicals, which isn't making stuff better, ultimately. Anyway, back to work tomorrow finally.
Oh, and got the job offer from GMB at new place with benefits, 401k, and a raise of a buck and a half, but i'm just not into fucking changing jobs again, starting over again. being in a closed kitchen, again. So, i'm gonna piss him off and say no. But I just want the crazy autonomy of what i've got now, cause i think i can grow it once i get a routine down. Routine. And what would help that? yeah, not partying until 6am with the busboy.
Crap.

what goes around...

“Now so many stories never get told. Why? Because people are scared to tell them. It’s one thing to show off faded Slayer tattoos and pass around photos of yourself in a different stage of life, wearing an Army uniform or wedding dress. But if your old stories and pictures are punk, everyone runs the other way. “Oh no,” they say. “Not another jaded blowhard talking about the good old days.” It’s sad because for some of us it’s impossible to talk about our personal history without talking about the past, and punk.”

—	Aaron Cometbus, from Cometbus #45

third time is a....

X3  last night, up this morning with one of my favorite activities (and his too, of course); then multiple cups of coffee, amazing conversation on the couch and sharing of Macklemore (me) and Tech N9ne (him) vids  and other musics, deep thoughts about religion, world environmental situations and the plight of the poor, so much resigned passion in him, it's pretty incredible, and in such an interesting package....anyway, then grabbed lunch across the street at the little cheesesteak spot (his suggestion), and then I walked him to work (we strolled via Alaskan, by the waterfront, ducking into alleys and cutting through the market, laughing the whole way, keeping on western all the way to belltown from Pike Place Market, to the corner of Wall where I got a quick hug and kiss bye). It was fun though, and so weird - to have some one impulsively grab your hand when you go to  jaywalk together, those little things you think only happen in movies - I'm so shocked and jerky about it, I really am more damaged emotionally (and thus physically) than I thought. Dean though, is correct.

my life as tetris

Or something like that. So after meeting up with Rob,  The Stray comes calling that evening after work, and he came over and we drank the expensive champagne that he brought, got a bit more beer, watched some wacky YouTube stuff ("You know who Childish Gambino is? WHAT?") and then....did....not...sleep.
Yikes. I let him stay over, and even left him the key to lock himself out - and having his caress in the morning, just even lying in his arms, fully knowing the parameters that exist, and listening to him tell me all the things i (and he, clearly) know I want to hear was, admittedly, a bit mind-blowing. If only because I have been traumatized by emotionally and physically frigid guys, and this kid (much like Rob, actually, sexually active waaaaay early) is insatiable. Which is what I thought I was. Really amazing though to wake up with him next to me. Wish that could be the case all the time, but I'm beginning to really embrace that I'm not the one they ever choose over others. I am a raft. I help people get from place to place. And, in turn, they help me experience life. And relieve stress, sometimes.
Heh. At any rate, he didn't come over tonight, and that's probably good, because trying to sleep with an amazing man in your bed is difficult. Well, it is for me, anyway. Just happy he digs cuddling as much as the other stuff :).
We worked together that evening, and I thought it went well, though I was a little spiky (not to him, to Headserverzel) and while there were subtle caresses early in the night, towards the end of the shift, as he made plans to go play with his friends, it passed. He was working really hard to get in ChefMatt's good graces last night as well, and he seemed to do a damn good job.
Yeah. And apparently that WAS the second time we *danced*. At least I remember this one.
Yeah. we'll see what happens next, cause I literally don't know; and also, these "russian" page hits are kind of freaking me out.I feel like they can't really be from there. Damn you, internets!
Yeah.

drummer de jour

Ah, Rob. One of the all time best hits in the history of Drummers I Have Played With (DIHPW) and had a great evening catching up with him tonight.Really, really good. So many laughs. Such good beer. So good to know people and have this immediate connection. Yeah, I'm a bit giddy, in the best and not unsavory way. really, really good to see my old pal, the kid who was able to make me feel better about myself when NO ONE ELSE COULD.
He's off to a week at Hops School in Yakima, but if I'm lucky we'll be able to meet up again before he heads out - I'd love for him to grab dinner at the restaurant on Thursday. I really know some awesome people, so very thankful they are in the majority.
(this photo from our US tour in '92)
#goodlifeinaday

to be clear

...

...and, again. Got some better intel from the missing evening with The Stray, and while digital documentation (photos! damn these kids! this is why i'm glad there weren't cell phones back when i was...when i was) exists, and some stats remain foggy, it does appear it was fun. Might even meet up with him tomorrow, but first: Rob is coming to town tomorrow!!! So stoked, one of my _favorite_ drummers (yep, that means exactly what one would expect it would mean....him, Rodney, Chris...all special). Billy, almost special (sorta-special?) Rob Smith, turbo amazing, but never actually special. Eric TD appears to be the coolest of all of them...except Mr. Flame, but he's in a class of his own. And Jules, well, she'd probably be special if i went that way. But I don't. Anyway, more fun and adventure. Also, tonight, owner Michael, really pulling out the stops, and The Stray being as sweet as they come. I'm pretty sure M was herding me because he saw The Stray and I talking, but again, I just seem to gravitate to the emo 20-something guys. Or they gravitate to me? And this one? Spectacular. I mention this because i barely mentioned it when it happened in Fresno, so....uh, savor this because it's real, and it's who you are. Who I am. No game, Interlull this weekend, but that's good. The Stray wants to come watch movies too. And the comment that made him get all bashful? When we met in the pass early in the evening tonight and we bobbed and weaved, and I said my usual "Let's dance" and he goes "let's do it" and I say "again" and he totally gets goofy. To the point of mentioning it while we were having beers.
Ok. Enough. But still, helps curb the throbbing pain in the side of my head that stems from an amazingly torn apart heart. No amount of booze or whatever is gonna help this mess. Trust anyone, ever again? Unlikely.