"Meet me again, maybe one mile high
Meet me again, and I won't flake this time
Meet me again, maybe a year from now
Meet me again, I think we both remember how"
ah, mac, the memories you bring flooding back to me:
-early 20s
-everyday at my best friend's house
-hiding out from my family
-shows nearly once a week
nothing but school, work and music, everyday all day
-stretch's mixtapes!
-discovering music with him, trading bands and getting wildly excited over each one
-working 3 jobs during finals in 95, teaching formal logic to people who were convinced they couldn't do it
-talking with dr fontaine after class in his trailer office
-(remembering what i believed then and even tried to defend...i shiver with sadlkfjhlkasdjhfa. sadlkfjhlkasdjhfa being something like shame and laughing at myself at the same time)
-beginning to see myself in a new way, capable of standing in front of many students talking about ethics or logic, yet still holding my best friend's hand in mine at shows out of fear of the people
-being blissfully crushless for over a year
-small factory, versus, blonde redhead, superchunk, the spinanes, unwound, jawbreaker, dinosaur jr, gene, slowdive, stereolab, j church, fugazi, eric's trip, tully craft, babyland, seam, tricky, sebadoh, jawbox (ka-plunk! don't trip over the namedrops all over the floor...sometimes i gross myself out)
-seriously, those were the best mix tape days
these days are so different now. i barely remember who i was then. mostly what i listened to. is that strange? perhaps this should inform me of something, but i can't get to what.
i suppose it doesn't really matter, but there seems to be this wide gap between the two of us, the 95-97 me and jessica 2yK and a penny.
everything is different about me. at least that's how it feels in here. yet i wonder, sometimes, if that's how it appears to anyone else. this weighs on me. it feels like expectation almost.
on a completely different note (see what happens when i am actually asked to do "work" while trying to update?) my brother's started sleeping downstairs finally. he hadn't had a bed to call his own since i moved up here as he was kind enough to share his air mattress with me in the old apt for the first 6 weeks. most nights, though, he slept on the couch so i could rest easy. then, at the house, he slept on the couch again while making the basement livable.
and not once did he ask to share my bed with me. can you believe that? the boy is, in my mind, a saint.
except for when he steals my socks.
(and again awhile later while on hold with a client)
i am developing a white hot crush on one of the executives here. he is not the type of man who usually attracts me, but i think i have figured out what it is about him that makes my cheeks flush and forces my eys to my shoes when i pass him in the hall. two things, really: he has these dark brown eyes with sexy as fuck crows feet workin' it at the corners. and, most importantly, his voice. it's masculine, not necessarily deep, but man oh man. and he has this east coast accent that blasts out randomly, like when he came from there he tried to get rid of it, but it keeps coming back all the same.
i don't think i could ever even have a conversation with this man. but i sure do like being around the corner from him.
this entry bugs me, but i'm not going to delete it. i did that yesterday and it fucked with my head all day, it made it hard to keep track of what i had said and what i had thought to say. or something. i'm such a fucking nerd.
