Monthly Archives: May 2004

How The Music Moves Me

Didn’t want to go with­out say­ing some­thing about this throb­bing headache, and how this music makes me see emer­ald blue, gold­en stars, man­dolins, and the night sky. My head feels like it’s going to explode. Time for sleep with the win­dow open.

Summer Days Are Finally Here

A week­end of relax­ation and intox­i­ca­tion.

The first time that I’ve known Pat to be Jen-less, he calls me up, wants to hang out. Fucking cool. We go for the break­fast spe­cial at a Greek Souvlaki house, he takes the sausage, I take the bacon. After, we head to the table ten­nis club (some­thing I hoped he’d do for a while now) for a few match­es. He beats me 5–1, and I find out that he’s run­ning on three hours of sleep. He goes home to run some errands, I go home to sleep. He comes back here to meet up with me and Trolley, after cook­ing some burg­ers on his grill and putting togeth­er fix­ings, corn-on-the-cob, and pas­ta sal­ad. We eat, watch some Harvey Birdman, play games for eight hours. Part and crash.

Today, wake up with my cat stretched out on my pil­low. Trolley and I head to the table ten­nis club, play for an hour, head down­town to buy a few albums. The weath­er being so nice, we go to the Highlander with their dis­tract­ing uni­forms, and sit down for a pint on the patio. Clink. Come back, and I get to orga­nize while lis­ten­ing to my new Modest Mouse album.

Don’t want to lose this feel­ing.

Copier Salesmen

I have to deal with copi­er sales­men from two com­pet­ing com­pa­nies at work. I hon­est­ly nev­er under­stood how one could be pure­ly a sell­er of copiers until they showed up. It’s a huge mar­ket, with lots of busi­ness and a ton of prod­ucts to deal with. They’re both, very obvi­ous­ly, sales­men, and present every­thing with smoke and mir­rors. The thing is, I’m actu­al­ly look­ing to lease a new print­er here, because the com­pa­ny could poten­tial­ly save a few hun­dred dol­lars a month with the new, more aggres­sive mar­ket­ing cam­paign that I’m try­ing to push. It’s a has­sle to have to see through all the bull­shit and sort out the rel­e­vant infor­ma­tion. I’m try­ing to give them both a fair chance any­way, since a new print­er would def­i­nite­ly ben­e­fit the com­pa­ny.

It’s fun­ny to see how they try to han­dle clients my age. They come in with their suits and ties, have these gener­ic sales­per­son char­ac­ters, and talk with lofty words. I don’t think they expect to be deal­ing with some­one my age, who looks and dress­es the way I do. I’m extreme­ly com­fort­able with it though; I com­mu­ni­cate well with peo­ple who are old­er than me, and these guys must be twice my age. They think it’s going to be easy to get a con­tract signed, just by telling me what the com­pa­ny sup­pos­ed­ly needs. I may be green, but I’m not stu­pid when it comes to busi­ness.

The only advan­tage to all of this is being treat­ed like a real client with respect and hav­ing things pre­sent­ed to me the way I want to see them. I sup­pose it’s only fair though, if they’re try­ing to get a 60-month lease signed, with quar­ter­ly pay­ments of over $1000.

Unspoken

I can see it in your eyes
I can hear it in your voice
the signs are obvi­ous
that all we had has run its course

—Matchbook, Strung Out

The hard­est thing isn’t know­ing this’ll end, because the cer­tain­ty of such a fact was clear from the moment we start­ed. It’s know­ing that the end is com­ing and still falling in love that’s the hard­est.

How can I dis­tance myself when every­thing you do draws me clos­er? If only it was­n’t so fruit­less to keep remind­ing myself that this will nev­er last. All that can be said is that it’s worth it. Everything I’ll be feel­ing soon is worth anoth­er night lying next to you, worth anoth­er morn­ing wak­ing up with you.

So give me one more kiss, one more taste of your lips, and tell me how much you’ll miss this.