Good Old Fashioned Fun

What a way to end the day. Almost upon accident, I stumbled across information that Lifehouse was going to be playing at the Bluebird here in town. Without a moment's notice, I grabbed a ticket. The last time I saw them was in 2001 at the Murat in Indy at a radio show. The worst part of the evening was when Jamie Lynn Siegler, who you may know as Meadow Soprano, came out and sang a song. She was the first voice behind the Levi's commercial where the low cut jeans were in and belly buttons were coming out. Atrocious. But I digress. My main reason for going was to see Lifehouse. Loved this band.

And in 2008, I'm still very much a fan. I took a hiatus from banding after my stint in 2001, and while I'd always kinda kept up with Lifehouse, one of their songs released just didn't really strike the right chord with me. But then I heard their new single from "Who We Are" and thought, Hey, this is catchy in a good way. So interest was renewed.

I got to the bar at 7:45 or so and there was already a small line formed. I got behind a couple of gals and stood there, one big alone loser. Luckily another loser was behind me and we quickly became winners while waiting for the doors to open. Since we both came by ourselves, we decided to go ahead and stand next to each other. Seeing the band was not a problem.

The first band was called Absentstar, a band out of Chicago. Skinny jeans are in, and I just don't know why. I could tell Derek, the lead singer, had on boxers because they bunched. Guys, here's a hint: we don't really need to see that. And while you're at it, having legs smaller than me does not win you points.

Turns out the guys are actually pretty nice, and a few of them grew up in Bedford. I've heard Bedford is kinda like Raytown...so I stay away. Looks like they'll be back at the Bluebird in a week or so, so maybe I'll catch them again. The music was good, but the words were difficult to understand.

And then there was Lifehouse. I'd never seen the new bassist, Bryce, up close. The boy is tall. And blonde. And really thin. Not my type except for the tall part.

I have to say that I just love seeing a band in a small venue. You get to be so close , and you're all huddled together to be as close to the stage as possible. There's just something about it. See more pictures here.

Thanks much for coming to Bloomington, guys. It was a great time. I made a new friend, I got some new music, and I have crickets to keep me company all night long. Crickets, Dear Reader, are friends that visit you after the amps have been put away and the screaming has subsided. Crickets will stay with you for a couple of days. Eventually too many crickets lead to hearing loss, as I'm going to experience sooner than later. (Yes, Auntie Em, I had earplugs - at home. I forgot, and yes I really did.)

The Lid, She Is Off

Need to vent.

Why is it so hard to let go of friendships that were false from the start? I have known someone for a period of years (about 8 or so), who I thought was a pretty good friend. Then I got divorced and I think it kinda creeped her out because all of a sudden, I stopped being invited to her house. Around the same time, I found out that this person had been talking about me behind my back (yeah, I know, in this world that's hardly a surprise), but what she said was such a surprise that I literally burst out crying. This was someone who I thought was a very good friend - who was close to me. I let her into my home and let down my guard, and she put a knife in my back.

Time has passed, but I am somewhat unable to let go. I remain cordial because we still share friends, but I really just want to tell this person that I know what she did and it hurt me, and that while everyone else thinks she's the bee's knees, I know deep down that she's not a nice person. But of course, if I ever do mention this, first, she won't remember doing it, and second, she'll go running around to people again talking about my confrontation with her. So in the end, suck it up Melinda and just go on about life and forget about her. Ruminating doesn't change the outcome. That still doesn't make it easy to forgive and forget. Or just forgive.

I feel better.

Pluckin

Friends are gone for the summer, but in their wake, they left six blueberry bushes that need picking. Tonight was my first assignment, so I went over at 5 and for half an hour, crowded around these berry bushes bigger than myself and went to town. I probably picked 5 cups' worth. Now they're washed and freezing in a single layer in the fridge. Soon it will be blueberry streusel coffeecake time. I go back in two days.

And I'm taking one helluva big bowl.

Starry Night.

I love Wiley's friends. I had an idea to have one last get-together for J&A before they go to Europe for two months and come back newlyweds. So I made a pork tenderloin with rosemary and plum sauce, rice pilaf and my Oreo cookie salad. Other people brought salads and meats and spinach dip, and it was all very tasty. I think we all feel very fat.

It would seem to certain people that I'm not shy. I've recently been called meddlesome, albeit in a good-natured way; and outgoing. And while I suppose my stories of meeting and talking to people on plane trips is not your idea of a shy person, in large social situations, I can be. Tonight, I got there late, which is unusual, but unexpected visitors dropped by as I was making a mess of my kitchen and my clothes. No problem, they hadn't started eating. I joked and laughed and talked to most of the people, and then I sat down.

Maybe sitting down is the problem. Before I knew it, I was just a listener with nothing to contribute. Sports this, political science that, little convos here and there, and I'm not an active participant. One is talking about her wedding plans, and then the other is talking about what they're planning to do in Prague. While I enjoy hearing snippets of everything, I feel left out.

So I went blueberry hunting. J&A have a wonderful garden with ripe, fresh, untainted blueberries. And we chatted about this and that, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Then we came back to the group and they chatted, and I listened, and at 11:15, I decided I should go home so I could get up and work tomorrow. I said my goodbyes and gave hugs and decided when I'd be back to blueberry hunt, when J walked me out.

J is a very interesting man. College tennis player, super smart, very personable, has just about anything you could ever need at his house that you can borrow at any time...like a kayak, and a weedwhacker. But we've never had much occasion to talk. I suppose I feel a little tongue-tied, though I don't know why. Tonight, it seemed he let down his guard a little bit, and let me inside. We chatted about weddings, about families, about work, and a half-hour later, I'm home, with fresh blueberries and a feeling inside.

I think it's happiness.

Hauntings

It's been roughly four years or so since the breakup of my first marriage. Someone at work was quite surprised when she found out I was married. "You?" she said. Yeah, I know, cute little inquisitive thing like myself, sometimes described by another as meddlesome, with a big smile and flashy eyes, is a divorcee. Just goes to show you we all have our skeletons, and nothing is as it seems.

It wasn't until talking to Wiley later today that I realized sometimes I am still haunted by my ex. I never really saw it while we were married, but he was quite a control freak. When I still talked to him, of course I could see it, but it's funny how much you get burned when you're close to the flame but you never realize it's happening until you move away from it. While I was married, nearing the end of the 8 years we'd been together, but not knowing it at the time, my ex told me he'd lost respect for me because I had no goals. And because I'd "gotten fat". I'll let that one go for now. But as for the goals, he was right: I had no goals. To me, I see goals as too far in the future - and if you focus too much on the future, you lose sight of the present. I'm currently reading Never Eat Alone, which is changing my view on goals, slowly. But I can see that it still affects me. I want people to be proud of me. I want people to respect me. I think I didn't get enough of that when I was a child that I still crave it now, sometimes ferociously. I worry that Wiley won't continue to love me because I haven't figured myself out yet, that I don't have goals that are concrete. Through tears and snorts on the phone because one nostril fills up quicker than the other (this is something that I must've had before going to Bosnia but never noticed until I went there, got infected, and came home thinking it'd go away, and surprise, it hasn't), I unleashed my thoughts to Wiley, who patiently listened to my snorts in his ear, rather loudly at times because when you have on headphones and a mic is right next to your face, it's a bit difficult to regulate, then told me that he wanted to give me the space to figure myself out and the ability to do so without any pressure from him. (And that my ex beat me down too much.) "All my friends go through this," he reassured me, to which I hiccuped, "At my age?" and he chuckled and said, "Close enough."

Puffy eyes are mostly dry now (must remember to get cucumber packs ready for the wedding just in case a tear is shed). Thanks, Wiley. I love you so very much.

Yay Me

Two months at my new job.

16 days until I see Wiley again.

One bookcase sold.

Life is good.

Island Memories

When I was 16, I was lucky enough to go on vacation with my parents to the little island of Kauai. Granted, vacationing with parents when you're 16 never really sounds like fun, but I got to go to Hawaii, while Iowa was dealing with winter, and frolic on beaches. I went horseback riding in a sugar cane field that led to a sandy white beach with crystal blue water. I got to go to a luau and watch hula girls and guys dance and play with fire. Some guy in his 20s thought I looked cute while feeding peacocks and gave me his phone number. (What, I was going to give him mine? Ha. I knew how to play the game.) While it was only 70 degrees and the locals were wearing jeans and sweaters, we were wearing swimsuits and shorts and laying out near the water. We went just a couple of years after a hurricane blew through, and the island wasn't up and running yet. People were living in the condos we were staying at because they had nowhere else to go. I thought it was kinda fun to have roosters wake me up at 5 am. In Hawaii!

And I don't know why the memory struck me tonight, but I remember going to the grocery store with my mom. It was just the two of us - my dad and his mom were back at the condo, and friends who had come with us were off on the island doing their own thing. I marveled at a $5.00 gallon of milk. Paradise, it seemed, came with a cost.

While we were getting in line, a man with a small red basket of items came up to us and asked my mom to help him pay for his groceries. She faltered and said she couldn't. He said, "That's ok," and then left, leaving the basket near the front of the store. Mom immediately regretted her decision and told me to go running after him to find him, and I tried, but when I got outside, he was nowhere in sight. I found it a little odd. He wasn't more than 10 seconds ahead of me, and the parking lot was large, but he was just gone. Vanished.

After my mom passed away a few short months later, I thought about this incident. In addition to this oddity, not long before my mom passed away, she told me of a strange dream, only she swore it wasn't a dream. She said she woke up in the middle of the night, and a cloaked figure was standing at the foot of the bed. She called out my name because I was the only other one in the house (Dad was sleeping next to her). The figure didn't move, didn't say a word, just stood there. She told me she hid under the covers, and when she looked again, the figure was gone.

I wouldn't say that I was superstitious, but after she died, I really started to wonder at these two phenomenon. Was the man in Kauai an angel testing her to see how nice she was and if she passed the test, would she have lived? Who was the cloaked figure? Another angel, deciding it was definitely her that was going to be next?

More likely than not, the guy in Hawaii was probably someone who just happened to look at a lady who had a kid and thought she looked nice enough to help him out. She was; she just thought of my dad and how mad he would've been if he knew she spent money to help a complete stranger, and having to deal with a mad alcoholic is no way to spend a vacation.

The cloaked stranger likely was a dream as well, but you know there are times when dreams feel so real (like every night as I'm going to bed and I dream a spider is spinning a web down to my bed), you're convinced you were awake.

Is there a point to this story? Not so much. But if you're looking for one, stop being a schmuck and be nice. Help someone out, especially someone who a) could really use it and/or b) doesn't expect it.