2008 been 'berry 'berry bad to me

I cried.

Last night I lay down on my bed and cried.


So hard my head hurt, curled up in a fetal position wishing the world would go away. Just like that day in Ms. Gordon's English class when I was thirteen. So hard that I had to fight the emotion back down and put it back inside it's proverbial box, to I guess, let it eat away me until I can afford good therapy. Really really good therapy.

The show is over. Sporty and I talked and... dreamtime is no more.

At work I can feel it behind my eyes when an errant memory flashes, a visceral emotion that threatens to cause a torrent of tears, which would then lead to a need for explanations. I suddenly would like the Lacuna treatment from that Jim Carrey movie I only half watched. I'm having dangerous thoughts. I feel like I only imagined the whole thing.

Sometime in the next few months, I'll open the door to that mental dressing room in the back of my mind and put on the makeup again. And pretend to be that someone else. Maybe forever.

I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. Playing at being someone that someone will like. I just wanted to be that someone that they did like. Really like.

I really really did.

Then karma hits me square in the mouth

Sometimes, the hints you get in life are subtle, and we miss them in the hustle and bustle only realize later that this was a clue that maybe, just maybe you'd missed an opportunity or let something get past you. You realize later that if you had done X or said Y the whole outcome would have shifted.

And then there are moments like this.

When the clue is obvious, so blatant, it's like God grabbed to top of your head, twisted it around to where he wants you look and says "here stupid", like you're Curley in a Three Stooges movie or trying to shove the dog's nose in it's mess to show it's mistake.

Short version - Sporty and I were still doing whatever it is we do. She texted that she misses me, and she'll be in town on x-day, etc. So we're now dancing around a new concept, trading I miss you's and I love you's when her "man" proposes to her...on my birthday.

Well.

There are 364 other days in a year and he picked this one?

Thinking maybe I missed something? Think God is saying for wasting all this time...take that? I'm getting that feeling.

Her message says "I was presented with an engagement ring". It ends with "luv u."

I've always been a little slow. But damn. Shit. Why can't she just say it? I'm gonna get up and do something, been in bed since I got home. Lifequakes and aftershocks.

The Dumbing of America

A few months ago I was without my keys or my cell phone via circumstances too convoluted to go into here. I was then that I realized I was significantly dumber than I was four years ago. I realized that at that moment I only KNEW two phone numbers other than my own. My mothers and a single friend of mines.

There was a time that I knew fifteen or twenty numbers by heart. Someone would ask and I could rattle one them off without thinking about it. Now with a need to call someone for assistance, I was befuddled. Bedeviled. Bestupided.

This only occured to me again recently when as I stood outside Party B trying to figure out how to the get Party C, the person I was trying to get directions from told me that although they had been to the place before, they did not know how to get there. "I just put the address in my GPS" was the memorable statement in the explanation. I realized that now people didn't need directions, just the address and trust whatever spit back out of the machine. Isn't this a fine kettle of fish. So now we've not only forgotten phone numbers, we've forgotten how to get places.

I suddenly want to give a party that only has directions, no address. And when you get to the yellow house, you'll be there.

I understand modern conveniences, I myself just bought a blackberry. (It's great too, you should get one) But I didn't turn on the GPS function. So there. And true back when I could remember phone numbers I didn't have a cell...which lead to me getting cell phone calls on other peoples phones. Which is funnier than you think, since it meant they assumed I was with that person, but they didn't want to talk to them.

I'm now trying to figure out what we can forget next so I can invent a machine that does it and make a fortune. Phone numbers have been done, we stopped doing math when we got calculators, and now getting places. Maybe I could re-invent meals in a bag and when people as what's in it the eater won't know - just say it's good. Wait, they call that a restaurant. I'll think of something...just you wait.

Barkeep...lemme have a...no, I have to tell you what to put in the glass.

A Long Slow Restaurant Review - Canoe

I realize that normally my restaurant reviews are neither really that quick, or ultimately a review of the restaurant but this weekend I spent a few hours at a spot that I like immensely. Back when Shade and I hung out, like in 2002, it was a little spot we'd hit when she needed a boost. Apparently she needed boosting often back then, as usually the manager would come and chat with her whenever we strolled through. So when she called me last week talking about celebrating her finally getting her MD (yep, all the women I know are doing thangs!) I already knew where we were headed.

Canoe is a lovely little spot in between Vinings and Buckhead, right on the Chattahoochee river. I mean right on it, like the gardens in the back abut the water. The food is American, with rabbit on the dinner menu, the decor is early hunting lodge and the service is incredible. And for the first time since I started going I saw a waiter the same color as me. Astonishing. Great guy, his wife is studying for the bar, his kid looks like a future little heart breaker.

I digress. Back to the story/restaurant review.

Shade calls me last week and makes sure I have the date free for brunch and lets me know that she'll be bringing a male friend, which to me means I'm off the hook for a gift and paying for her meal. I'm guessing she said that as it's usually me and her that go to Canoe, even when it's a group, and I'm not sure if she was clearing the decks or she just wants to make sure there were no misunderstandings. Right. So I'm paying for just one? Cool.

So we meet up at 2-ish and get an outside table. There are six of us and three have never been, so I know they're in for a treat. Before I could ask if Scoop was coming, Shade explained that Scoop and her were mad at each other again - again - and when last they'd spoke Scoop was leaving church to go spend some time with her husband. I didn't ask for an elaboration or what that was code for.

I'm going say now, possibly the one bad thing about Canoe, for the first time I've ever gone we had a small flying bug issue. Never had one before and Shade and I have eaten outside numerous times so I'm not sure what was going on. It wasn't that bad at first but it became an issue later. They may want to invest in some of those citronella candles or something.

Appetizers are the arugula salad with a citrus thing going on, and the she crab soup, along with some sticky buns sprinkled with nuts. They looked so good, somebody is going to be cursing me on her elliptical on Wednesday. It was still brunch - we'd made the last sitting - and so we split the table with orders both lunchy and breakfasty. Two orders of the roast chicken, someone got the salmon, Shade got the shrimp and grits, one eggs Benedict and the always popular always tasty extra good waffle house upgrade redux for us un-imaginative eaters i.e, me - the Riverside: eggs, bacon, hash browns and french bread topped with fresh fruit. See, something for everyone.

Them eggs Benedict.

The three new folks raved about the food, as though they were surprised. I wondered if they thought we were going to take them someplace bad? Have they met Shade? Do they know the girl loves food?

Now this is a long slow restaurant review not only because my dining party was considerably larger than the usual twosome but also because we arrived at 2-ish and when we left we nearly met the dinner crowd walking in at 5:30. We were there that long.

It was a lively group, everyone at the table is theoretically single. I know this because one of the young ladies let us know she was hosting a function the next night at the Grape in Inman Park just for singles, and everybody said they were coming. I say theoretical, because I'm also fairly certain that Shade's companion might have been hoping for a different ruling. So the conversation veered between single life in regards to all the usual topics that make up polite dinner conversation when you really want to be talking about ...."benefits", yeah, that's the term.

We got a bottle of the Cava and toasted Shade's graduation. We were reminded that if you don't look people in the eye during a toast then it's seven years bad sex...then everybody toasted again, except the guy on the end who claimed he wasn't interested "benefits." At all, with anyone. He'd just gotten divorced and that wasn't what he wanted, though he apparently had offers. Insistent offers. Cheeky bugger.

And as we kept talking, the dessert came. Or rather desserts. We ended up with every dessert they had. The chocolate cake looking souffle was awesome. The creme brulee a wonder. They had something in a pineapple glaze, a peanut buttery something, more something else. Somebody adored the sorbet. I'll have you know that I couldn't eat after this meal, my day was shot, I had to go home and lie down. So that's a good indicator.

Shade and her Congrats Chocolate Cake-thingy...it was good though.

Now at this point, it's us and the people who work at the restaurant getting ready for the dinner seatings. I know they had to be mad at us. Probably thinking: Geez, don't these people have homes? I think even the bugs were ready for us to leave at this point. And even after we finished, there were still the obligatory pictures in the garden. Thank god the only thing on TV is baseball. I had planned anything else that day it would have been a travesty.

I guess you can call this review biased (it is) because I really like Canoe as a special occasion spot. I'd suggest it to anyone who asked, although as of late the clientèle has gotten kind of casual - shorts and sandals. The food is still good and the service is still excellent despite this lax of customer mores, and when you toss in an after dinner stroll through the small but very beautiful garden, it's a place all it's own. That, and the sweet tea was great!

Barkeep...more sweet tea!

Poetry

I awake every morning
each day fresh
numbly yawning at the dawning
another daylong session of control
as struggle to keep
the tightest grip on my soul
I can feel the pressure behind my eyes
tapping on the windows
as I contain the all feelings inside
it takes a moment to become the facade
the one I've constructed
crafted and worked on so hard
the smiling face and understanding grin
Mr. No I'm good
one more time I become him
a quiet voice in the face of rage
with the coming of the sun
he steps out onto life's stage
and no one knows the inner me
shrouded well
where no one can accidentally see

I keep close at heart the secret truth
the loneliness, failures
the days and nights of wasted youth
support given and not to be returned
opportunities missed
romance spurned

because sad is lonely
and nobody I know wants to be alone

Odd Quotes

Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.

- Somebody really smart