At It Again!!!!

Well, those cantankerous, easily excitable Jefferson-ish motherfuckers downstairs are at it again!!

Ya know what?!

If I win the fucking lottery, I will make it my personal quest to send each and every one of you to a deluxe apartment in the sky.

Will that work for you?!?! Great!!

In the meantime, shhhhhhh!!!

Sigur Rózzzzzzzzzzz

My, my...how things change.

Back, during my formative years, I used to hate live performances, complaining that the songs sounded "different" or "not as good" as they were on the original albums.

Tonight, er, last night, I went and saw one of my favorite bands, Sigur Rós, play live at the Orpheum. For those of you not familiar to Sigur Rós, they are an Icelandic band that infuses very powerful, electronic and classical sounds in their music. Their music is very chill and--yes, I totally cribbed this word from the boys and girls at Wikipedia--ethereal.

It's that rare band that knows how to make music that grabs your soul and shakes it all about. Just absolutely gorgeous music. I actually keep their music on to help me sleep. It's very relaxing.

So, I dunno. Maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised when I found myself falling asleep during their live performance. But shocked I was. And a little disappointed. It wasn't that their music was bad. Not at all. It was just as beautiful and crystalline as it's always been. And it was all the more impressive watching it being performed live.

So, why the snoozefest?

Well, see the reasons above. It was more of the same; identical, actually. To the last note. Look, if I'm shelling out bucco bucks, I want a little bang. Not to sound like a complete brat, but if I want to hear the songs exactly as I know them, I can just pop in the CD and listen to it. I want random guitar interludes, improvisation and audience patter.

Speaking of the latter, I went and saw the concert with my brother in arms, Erik, and I completely agree with his take on why the concert was lacking. He whispered, ever so softly in my ear (lol!!!), " ya know, for a band that's all about having a big stage production, they have absolutely no stage presence."

I concur, sir.

Say what you will about U2 (Best Band on Earth) and Coldplay (you know how I know you're gay...?), but they know how to play with the audience. I've seen both of those two bands live and there was a real give and take between band and audience, a dynamic. And there was nothing like that present, this evening. They barely even talked. They just jumped from one song to the next.

How very meh of them.

But that's not to say I didn't enjoy the music itself. It was breathtaking, no denying that. I was actually moved to tears at a few points. There music has and always will be lovely and pure. Hell, the music alone was almost worth the price of admission.

Almost.

The Mascot

I've always sort of seen myself as the team mascot for all of my friends.

When I think of a mascot, I always picture sort of a goofy caricature that no one really takes seriously, but nevertheless remains the glue that keeps people coming back and rooting for their group, staying loyal.

Well, I've always thought of myself as that guy. In fact, up until very recently, I believed my status was relegated to simply being The Hairy Jewish Guy (Go BRUCE!!!!). And while the latter part is true--I am Jewish and nearly as hairy as an Ewok--I realized in the last day that I was, well, I was something more than that.

Last night, when I told my closest friends that there's a possibility I might be moving across the country, next February, I got a reaction that I never really expected to get: Sadness.

I mean, I'm not tooting my own horn. I don't think anyone is really going to be devastated or anything by my departure, but still...Wow! The reaction I got when I told some of them that I might be leaving? Well, I was really quite touched. Until last night, I never really knew that I had such an impact on my friends' lives here. I kind of always thought I was just someone who came in, made people smile and laugh and that was the end of it; and, as a result, I got the white "FRIEND" label slapped on my breast pocket.

I didn't realize I was so...loved. Maybe that says more about me as a person than it does about my friends. I've always kind of had this well, I don't really take myself very seriously, so why should anyone else? mentality. I use sarcasm and self-deprecation as a defense mechanism. It's not much of a secret. The irony of it all is that one of my biggest fears is that people will never take me seriously--as a man and as a person. What can I say? I'm my own worst enemy.

In the last few months--hell, all my life! My dad travels a lot!--I've really learned a valuable lesson about love and distance. And it's this: Just because something or someone you love isn't in front of you all the time, it doesn't mean there's any less love, it doesn't make it any less real. It just makes it all that more powerful. It makes it more concentrated, because you realize just how much the someone or something means to you and what they meant to you when they were there to begin with.

I love my friends--every single one of them. I always have. I just never really knew how much they loved me back.

Even for a neurotic cynic like myself, that's a really, really nice surprise.

Royalwood Blues

Look, I'm not a racist person. I'm not.

I know, I know...people who say things like "I'm not racist, but..." usually are the most prejudice of all. But seriously, I have no bone to pick with African Americans or anyone of any race, creed, nationality or religion. Two of my best friends in the world are black.

However, the black family below me seriously needs to drink a nice, steaming cup of SHUT THE EVER LOVING FUCK UP!!!!! Seriously!! No one wants to hear your loud-ass, profanity-laced, n-bomb dropping (there are small children in this building!! HELLOOOO?!?!?!) screaming and drama!!!!

Goddamn it!!!!

Oh, and if you're gonna get into a Jerry Springer-esque fight? Try and keep it limited to one floor only, please!! None of this running upstairs and downstairs bullshit!! This ain't no Agatha Christie novel!!!

It was a peaceful apartment complex, for Chrissakes, yo!!!!

Well, except for the meth heads upstairs. But at least they know how to have a good time without causin' a ruckus!!!

Coming of Age...

"It's complicated."

At least, that's what I have on my Facebook profile.

I've usually never run toward drama like this. Usually, it just kind of follows me around until I either do something drastic or just ignore it to make it go away. But this time, I'm facing it head on.

All my life, I've listened to people tell me what I should and shouldn't do. I've based all my decisions on whether or not people will like me after I do what I do. This situation, as chaotic as it is, is one of the best things to happen in my life, because it truly has made me realize that no matter what people tell you, whether they think something is wrong and immoral or great and romantic, you have to listen to your own heart, your own head and live and die by the decisions you make.

There's someone out there. Someone I've waited my whole life for. I lost her once. And then she found me again. It's a second chance. Not everyone gets one of those. But it's a big fucking mess and, yeah, there are people out there who have told me to do the "right thing" and walk away There are also people who tell me to make my own decisions and be careful.

And ya know? I think I'm finally realizing that, after all this time, I've been forgetting to listen to the one person who counts: Me. At the end of the day, no one can walk in my shoes but me. And it's hard enough to walk in these Nike's on my own without having people push me, to and fro. I guess I just need to do what I'm going to do and let the chips fall where they may. While part of being an adult is being willing to listen to advice from family and friends, there's something to be said for having a mind of your own and making your own decisions.

I've made mine. On my own. I know what I want. I know who I want. And I know what I have to do to get both.

And maybe, in the end, when the dust settles, I'll find that my decision was a mistake. I sincerely hope not, bus as I've said, time and time again, I don't have a crystal ball and I have no idea how this is all going to play out. But at least I'll know that it was my mistake to make and I'll own it. That is something that no one will be able to take away from me.

For the record, however, I don't think it's a mistake. Not by a long shot. I think she's very well worth the rocky emotional terrain I'll encounter on my journey. After all, there is no one on the planet that makes me feel as bright and alive and happy and wonderful as when I'm on the phone with her or talking to her or even just thinking about her.

It is a journey I'm on. And whatever happens, I'll have the blissful, euphoric satisfaction of knowing that I completed it on my own terms.

But I won't lie.

When I arrive at my destination, I hope she's there, waiting for me, at the end. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Nuuuuuuuuuu.

At Last...

I never thought I'd hear those three words again. You know the ones I'm talking about.

And then, it happened. And at first, for a few moments, I was scared of the implications those words had, the power. I said something like, you don't mean that. Maybe it's not a good idea to throw such strong words around.

But as the evening progressed and I looked into your eyes, I knew you meant it. I could see it--that intensity, that electricity that comes with knowing something in your bones. And it was then that I realized that I felt the same way. I just needed to not be so afraid and take the plunge.

Here's the thing, I've been there and back again in the five years since you and I first spoke to each other and eventually parted ways (by my own idiotic doing--I'll never forgive myself). I've done the drugs and partied hearty. I've met one or two girls in my life that I thought had real potential but eventually fucked me over.

But what I finally realize is this: All that time, I was just waiting for you to find me again. And you did. You scoured the Internet for me. You searched and you searched and you searched. And you did it.

You came back to me.

I wish I hadn't been such an idiot all those years ago. I must have been so out of it, I don't even remember calling you to tell you that I was no longer interested. I didn't realize how much it hurt you. I don't know what I did to deserve such a lovely woman like you re-enter my life, give me a second chance or why I stuck in your head or why you would search me out again, but I am blessed that you did, because you are my angel. And if this all works out, this thing we have, I will dedicate the rest of my life to making it up to you, making you happy.

This weekend was magical, sweetheart.

I know now that you are the girl I've been waiting for. Like you, I know it in my heart. And while I have been wrong before, this seems completely different. Besides, I have to believe that there is a reason we found each other again after so long. I don't think I've been so completely happy in a long time. You should see the dopey grin that's been on my face, the past two days. Ear to ear. I think about you and my heart rate goes up and I just get warm all over. I absolutely melt.

I had a feeling that, from the moment we stepped onto that escalator going down at the airport that we truly were the two peas in a pod that we had spoken about on the phone, online. The zoo trip confirmed my thoughts and by the time we hiked up that god-awful, gigantic hill, causing me to nearly pass out from exhaustion, if not dehydration, I knew it.

I had fallen for you. You had me under your spell. By the time we danced, I realized that this could be the beginning of Something Great. Far greater than anything I've ever been a part of. We didn't just have chemistry, we had passion! Something that I think both of us have lacked for quite a long time.

And it was spectacular!!

Knowing how both of us feels, and after all that's been said and done, the next little while, we're going to have to work harder than we've ever had to work to claw our way out of the giant holes we've been stuck in for so long, dug by ourselves. I believe we can do it because I believe in you and me. We've come this far. Now, it's all about learning to push forward a little further in order to start an amazing, exciting life with each other (and a certain peedle!!), rather than the one we're both been merely content and/or bored with.

And I know it will be worth it.

Because I have to believe and have faith that good things come to those who wait. And angel, I've been waiting for someone like you all of my life. You are beautiful, smart, sexy, funny, sincere and genuine. So, when you say those three words, how can I not respond with anything but the following...??

I love you, too.

Absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt.

American Idol?

Look, call me Nature Boy, but I just want to love and be loved, alright?

There's this girl out there. I'll call her Lina, who thinks I'm the absolute shit. We've known each other for years and the thing is, she's got this crazy misconception that I am like this perfect, brilliant, hot young stud.

And, ya know, while I'm not one to turn down such flattery (thank you, thank you thank you!!!!!!), I'm far from the Perfect Man she thinks I am. The truth is, as many of you have come to realize by reading this here blog, I've got a lot o' shit going on in this ol' noggin mine. I'm a pretty flawed individual with a lot of issues: self-involved, addictive personality, potty-humored, potty-mouthed, paranoid, germaphobic, low self-esteem. Throw on top of that that I'm attracted to girls and boys...you've got yourself quite a handful to deal with.

But I try.

And I've tried to change a lot about myself, over the years, but the thing I've learned most is that I am who I am and I gotta be who I wanna be...not what someone else wants me to be or who they think I should be. I recently told a buddy that, when it comes to his new special lady friend, he should just be himself and the rest will work out on its own.

I don't think a lot of people get that. They really don't.

They are constantly re-inventing themselves or putting on airs or pimping their rides or homes or whatever is popular to pimp, these days. It really makes me sad. Just a few months ago, I recall a friend being turned down by a girl--and made fun of--because she thought he was gay, despite his protests. Well, ya know what, lady? The person you fall in love with, the perfect man? He's probably going to be nothing like you pictured him as. Same goes for you, fellas.

I understand: a person what a person wants. And yeah, I do believe there's someone out there for everyone, but people are so hellbent on finding that person, that perfect sculpture that they've chiseled away at for so long in their minds, that they don't see a good thing when they have one or they find what they're looking for and they realize, wow...what was I thinking?

It makes me angry when Lina talks to me as if I'm her great white hope. I'm not. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I'm no saint and I am certainly not perfect or, at least, the American Idol she apparently thinks me to be. I do, however, think the world of her and enjoy it when we just gets down to the level, so that we can just talk and enjoy each other's company. Just two people being who they are, rather than who they should be, who they never will be.

See, the thing is...I don't want to be worshiped or idolized.

I want to be loved.

I truly think people mistake the two for each other far too easily and far too often.