Am I the only person that hates elevators? I think that they might be designed as a type of torture devise. I work on the thirteenth floor of the second largest building in New Orleans, this roughly translates in to riding in a elevator at least twice a day. Standing there with a group of people refusing to talk to each other, or look at each other, unless of course you get stuck in the elevator with that one creepy guy. You know the one I'm talking about, the guy with no understanding of personal space who will intentionally turn away from the door and stare at you, breath mint close, creepy. Or you could just get stuck with one person, both of you appraising the other and wondering if you are being judged. Then there is always the standing rule about getting off of your cell phone when you step in to an elevator that always makes me wonder, who comes up with these rules? Is there a book somewhere I should know about? It also makes me want to start really screwing with people, you know take a step closer to them with every floor that passes and when we are breath mint close say 'Hello.' You know, something like that. Give a knew definition to reaching out and touching someone. Poke them and say 'Tag you're it!' It only makes sense that if we are going to uncomfortable we might as well have a reason. My new goal...make the day a little stranger for the people in the elevator with me. Oh, and let's not even approach the subject of passing gas in the elevator.
I had a strange dream the other night about an old friend of mine that fell by the way side over the years. We had issues, things that just build up over time left unmentioned due to the others insecurities. Things that with time are just unacceptable to the other person about their friends character. In short it was what happens when you are unable to tell your friend that they are acting like a jackass because they take themselves too seriously. It is a shame too because no matter what I will always love her crazy ass, despite the bitterness. Still, I had this dream the other night that she and her husband were going through a horrible divorce and she was upset and needed help. When I woke up I was disturbed and wanted to call her to make sure she was alright. It was in that moment that I realized that despite our falling out I missed her. Sure there have been times where I would hear things or see things that brought up her memory and know she was happy or upset by them, but it was different. For example the Oscars tonight being hosted by Jon Stewart will have her on cloud nine, or the fact that there has been a clothing line based off of David Bowie might actually convince her to go shopping. These thoughts aside the other day was the first time that I actually felt concern for her well being, or her husbands, in a few years. After coming to terms with this renewed, or just re-realized emotions, I do hope they are alright where ever they are. I hope they are healthy, happy, and I hope they are better now then when we parted ways. I guess given enough time even my bitterness can begin to fade.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Music From the 90's
Let's see... a little update since it has been so horribly long since I posted. The Sig and I went on vacation at the end of December beginning of January which was nice but would have been nicer if I hadn't been so ill. Why was I ill? Because my gallbladder went bad. This is the short of things led to surgery on the Thursday before last. Obviously I am doing much better.
I was going through my closet the other day (apparently I do things like that when recovery from surgery, I don't know why I just do them) and I turned on one of the satellite radio stations that I probably do not use as much as I should. I found a 90's station and changed it approprietly to the music I listened to in highschool and still enjoy a great deal. I expected Nirvana, Pearl Jam, STP, Smashing Pumpkins, and all of the other great bands that started the grunge movement that defines my generation. I was shocked to get on Foo Fighters song and nothing else but a bunch of songs that conjured up many forgotten memories of my changing the radio station in my car cursing at the gods of music for allowing "Hit me Baby one More Time" to find its way to my ears. I was amazed at how many crappy songs rolled across before I finally changed the channel. It was the Spice Girls "If You Want to Be My Lover" that finally broke the camels back (thinking about that I'm comparing myself to a camel and I don't think I like it) that was the last straw (that's better)the sassy british vocals brought with it a memory of driving with my old highscool chum aptly tilted 'Little Gay David' in a VW Beattle and he singing that song as loud as he could while tearing up the California highways. I must have been pretty loaded at the time since I am pretty sure I was singing it too. By the way has anyone else ever realized that they were behaving far more zesty than they normally would while with a smaller peppy-er person? Anyway, I digress, so there I am sitting on my bed holding a shirt having a very vivid flashback of my youth that probably could have remained a memory long buried only to reappear in regression sessions of therapy that will probably be brought on at my 45th birthday when I fully intend to have a mental breakdown at the realization that my youth has passed me by. Until then I will just stay away from the spice girls and 90's music stations.
On a similar note, I ran down the street the other day to buy a smoothie. I suppose it was my own fault for going around 3:30, but given I never really think about school hours since like most dregs I'm normally at work. Anyway I find myself waiting for my smoothie surrounded by teenagers, as any adult knows this is generally an annoyance, and as any teenager knows they are rebelling against the man which all adults symbolize and since they had the numbers the adults were the true annoyance and unwanted invaders of their space. As I climbed into the Honda the Sig turned to me and said "Do you realize there were kids in there that can drive that were born in the 90's?" It would have almost have been as commical if the Sig had said "Hey look over there!" and punched me in the face. So in return I turned to the Sig and said "Do you realize our child is growing up in a world where Kurt Cobain is dead?" I probably shouldn't have said that, I didn't like the way he went all white in the face. Ah well, the world keeps turning.
I was going through my closet the other day (apparently I do things like that when recovery from surgery, I don't know why I just do them) and I turned on one of the satellite radio stations that I probably do not use as much as I should. I found a 90's station and changed it approprietly to the music I listened to in highschool and still enjoy a great deal. I expected Nirvana, Pearl Jam, STP, Smashing Pumpkins, and all of the other great bands that started the grunge movement that defines my generation. I was shocked to get on Foo Fighters song and nothing else but a bunch of songs that conjured up many forgotten memories of my changing the radio station in my car cursing at the gods of music for allowing "Hit me Baby one More Time" to find its way to my ears. I was amazed at how many crappy songs rolled across before I finally changed the channel. It was the Spice Girls "If You Want to Be My Lover" that finally broke the camels back (thinking about that I'm comparing myself to a camel and I don't think I like it) that was the last straw (that's better)the sassy british vocals brought with it a memory of driving with my old highscool chum aptly tilted 'Little Gay David' in a VW Beattle and he singing that song as loud as he could while tearing up the California highways. I must have been pretty loaded at the time since I am pretty sure I was singing it too. By the way has anyone else ever realized that they were behaving far more zesty than they normally would while with a smaller peppy-er person? Anyway, I digress, so there I am sitting on my bed holding a shirt having a very vivid flashback of my youth that probably could have remained a memory long buried only to reappear in regression sessions of therapy that will probably be brought on at my 45th birthday when I fully intend to have a mental breakdown at the realization that my youth has passed me by. Until then I will just stay away from the spice girls and 90's music stations.
On a similar note, I ran down the street the other day to buy a smoothie. I suppose it was my own fault for going around 3:30, but given I never really think about school hours since like most dregs I'm normally at work. Anyway I find myself waiting for my smoothie surrounded by teenagers, as any adult knows this is generally an annoyance, and as any teenager knows they are rebelling against the man which all adults symbolize and since they had the numbers the adults were the true annoyance and unwanted invaders of their space. As I climbed into the Honda the Sig turned to me and said "Do you realize there were kids in there that can drive that were born in the 90's?" It would have almost have been as commical if the Sig had said "Hey look over there!" and punched me in the face. So in return I turned to the Sig and said "Do you realize our child is growing up in a world where Kurt Cobain is dead?" I probably shouldn't have said that, I didn't like the way he went all white in the face. Ah well, the world keeps turning.
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