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mumble mumble
February 23, 2005
just got home. emailed amelia.
after work today, i went over to halcyon with coworker felipe. we had a few beers, he left, and i had a few more beers. i got hungry, but not too hungry, so leora shared her popcorn with me.
i tried to write. i had started writing about neighborhoods, how living in one was something i've always wanted. but the storyline kept branching, taking off on the tangents of my life. seven pages and many beers later, i found i was well into an extensive autobiography. it was odd, but interesting and sort of liberating. i was remembering so much of my life, looking at some of it with fresh eyes.
but it also made me a bit sad, a condition probably brought on largely by the alcohol. the folks at halcyon unknowingly warded off any serious feelings of isolation, then amelia came by. i'm a bit transparent (ok, a lot transparent), but amelia's also particularly perceptive. she helped a lot just being there.
in a fit of drunken efficiency, i stopped on the way home to vacuum out the new car. then i decided to wash it.
ah, the new car. so much has continued to happen in the past two days. i looked at cars monday. i hate to bitch and moan about it, but it was sorta frustrating and a little disappointing.
i was aimed at a beige '98 honda accord with a beige interior, what my friend cat calls a "camouflaged car," because there are so many of them that they just fade into the traffic. then, yesterday, my old friend kanton, who has a used car lot, called to tell me he had a '97 acura tl he paid $4,000 for. said it had slight hail damage.
after work, i wanted to go running, needed to go to the bank, wanted to look at cars. i was uninspired by kanton's description, and had decided not to even bother, but i changed my mind and swung by the shop on the way to the bank.
yeah. not a big, lunky tl, but the 2-door cl. a merlot color. black leather interior, sunroof, and a stick. i don't see hail damage, but it's got it's share of dings, which is fine with me. i drove it away, down to town lake to go running, then home, and i was immediately sold.
it's a blast to drive, and between the lower car payment, better gas mileage, and insurance, i should save at least $380 a month.
yesterday, i also found a swanky pad possiblity on south congress. more to come on that.
so, tonight, i drove home in my clean new car, listening to a cd i put together for a friend, or rather an extra copy of it. actually, this is the friend i'm hoping to live with. anyway, for her birthday last month, she asked her friends to put together cd's of either their favorite songs or the songs that kind of marked out parts of their lives.
my first cut got to 112 songs, and i was only halfway through what i'd
put on the computer, which was, in turn, only about a third of my
collection.
i eventually pared it down, and found a pattern. i split it between
two cd's, one called "love doubt resolution", the other "despair
redemption hope." yeah, sounds moody, i know, and it sort of is. i
love rock, but these are the songs that really hit me. and they're not
downers, at least not at the end - they progress, and they end up at,
well, resolution and hope.
when i was in high school, i began to recognize and know the pattern
of moods i'd cycle through. i'd go through a high in which i was full
of energy and real brilliance. then, i'd crash, and there'd be
frustration and anger. then i'd burn out, and i'd be down, sometimes
for days.
i put together a tape titled "the manic depression tape." i'd pop it
into the headphones or the car stereo when the frustration came on. in
a span of ninety minutes, it could almost carry me through the cycle,
accelerating the process. i was listening to a lot of old genesis at
the time. it'd start with "mama", "i don't care anymore", and end up
with music like "entangled", which is almost like a lullaby, "blood on the rooftops," and "afterglow."
i remember one night at a retreat in high school. i was going through
it. my friend blake had a mobile d.j. service, and i used to help him
with dances, a way to be there, but not have to stand alone or
clumsily try to mingle. we had a dance that night, out on a concrete
slab in the middle of a field out in the country. we had left the
equipment out after the dance. i left the cabin, went out and put the
tape in, just on the second side, the soft side. i lay on the cool
concrete slab and listened and watched the stars. it's one of those
moments that persist in the memory, that i can go back to at almost any time.
i got home tonight. emailed amelia, listening to old genesis, the softer music in which i used to find so much comfort following the storms. i started spilling, as i often do.
in case you're wondering, there wasn't really a point to this entry. i cut and pasted a lot of it from the email to amelia. i hope she doesn't feel any less special - the late night emails have been a good outlet for me, letting me write what i can't always say in the blog. um. well. i guess that's about it. i'm going to bed now.
Posted by Rob at February 23, 2005 11:44 PM