No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-09-30 - 9:07 p.m.

Alas, Life

I didn't mean to start writing this yet. Cause I need to make it over to the gym. And I need to update my resume tonight and apply for that *perfect* job.

But I was just checking in on D-land, and saw I hadn't updated in three days. A new record in j$ land. And I felt like I wasn't there (as in on D-Land).

And it occurred to me that I'm *not* there (as in life) all the time. These days. Sometimes I'm there. Sometimes I'm not just there, I'm *all* there. Sometimes I'm just plain nowhere.

That is making no sense.

Bear with me.

I called in sick to work on Friday. Not that I was really sick. More that I was just sick of going in to that place and hating it. Cause I just hatehatehate it these days. I'm so tired of doing things that mean *nothing* to me. Every hour I spend there I feel like it's a waste of my life.

Not that I haven't said all this shit before. And not that I actually have the guts to just walk out. Not with the Current Economic Climate. Hence the resume updating. Which I should be doing now. But I'm not.

I also don't feel *all* there in some social situations these days. I feel like I've been in an emotional mine field for some months now. When I'm with most people, I can find myself longing for solitude. Which is not a reflection on them, but on me. When I'm alone, I can find myself longing for *any* kind of human contact. Or, more often, a *specific* kind of human contact.

Ai, Vida

Alas, Life.

So Friday night I pretty much played hermit. And fairly late in the evening Rudy called and came by and we watched Danger Mouse cartoons (Crumbs, Chief!) and went out to the hot tub and while we were there, eRoommate and CD came home from their date and joined us in the hot tub and then we went in and I went to bed.

Saturday the whirlwind started.

Up at nine. Shower. Dig out all the camping stuff. Pack. Congratulate self on being completely packed a full hour ahead of time.

jo3 calls, and comes by early so I can help on the shopping. Go to the beverage-mart for wine. (This is *not* roughing it camping). Bemoan the fact that the *only* liquor store with a half-decent wine selection in a five-block radius is going out of business. Buy four bottles of wine at 20% off.

Go to Target to buy sleeping bag for jo3. Drop back by home for some CDs for car.

Go to Ng's house and pick up her and her friend SpunkyGirl. Pack everything but the kitchen sink into jo3's new Jeep Grand Cherokee with the "Upcountry suspension package". Reconsider and shoe-horn in the kitchen sink.

Go to the grocery store for provisions. Wander the aisles aimlessly for half an hour. Sort out everyone's various and sundry meat-eating preferences. jo3 is vegetarian. I only eat poultry and fish. Ng and SpunkyGirl eat all kinds of meat and crave hot dogs when camping. Debate relative merits of Veggie Dogs vs. Tofu Dogs (I have no idea). Settle on Veggie Dogs. Repeat ad nauseam for other provisions.

Realize that it's 1:30 and that I've eaten nothing all day. Get two sandwiches from deli. Pack provisions, bag of ice and two cords of pre-cut firewood into Upcountry, which necessitates pulling out three backpacks, the cooler and the kitchen sink, in the King Soopers parking lot. Leave kitchen sink behind.

2 pm. Finally going Upcountry. Snarf through two huge deli sandwiches in front of three people who are preternaturally thin and have the combined metabolism of an entire third-grade class. Feel really fat and vow to eat nothing for the next six hours.

Proceed to eat non-stop for the next five hours.

Drive to Leadville, singing Indigo Girls album at the top of our lungs. Yep, the *entire* album. Get to dirt roads. Everyone screams "Upcountry". jo3 drives up dirt roads at 55. Grip "Oh shit handle" with white knuckles while still trying to look macho in front of SpunkyGirl.

Arrive at Ng's secret camping place. Set up tents. Open second bottle of wine (I'd tell you where we drank the first, but you might frown on alcohol in moving vehicles, so I won't). jo3 and I mosey up a nearby mountain and drag an entire downed tree back to the fire pit. Yep, the *entire* tree. Bemoan the lack of hatchet or other implement of destruction. Instead bash tree to burnable-sized bits with help of local rocks. Ng says to SpunkyGirl "*What* are they doing?". Reply: "They're being boys."

Have I mentioned yet that I like SpunkyGirl? No? More on that later.

Decide that we need to go back into Leadville for more provisions. Of the potable kind. Drive back down dirt roads at 65. Stop off at the bar. The Silver Dollar Saloon. Drink margs, bloody mary's and big-ass glasses of whiskey while playing very, very bad pool. Ng and SpunkyGirl two-step in the middle of the bar while giggling ferociously. After an hour or so of general debauchery, we decide to get those provisions. Ng says to me on the way out of the bar "We should go before we embarrass you." My reply: "Before? You haven't been keeping up on current events, Honey."

Aint I suave when I'm loaded?

Acquire provisions and head back to camp. Now in the dark. Get fire started, and start cooking Veggie Dogs. A couple were lost to the angry maw of the fire. Not the best dinner in the world, but we were all hungry. And we were all either drunk or hurriedly getting there.

Play music. Only one guitar, my old beat-around acoustic. Start off with "Moonshiner", jo3 on guitar and me on harmonica. By far the best version of it we've ever done, partly because I'm usually trying to play guitar at the same time as harp. This time I was able to concentrate on the harp. I almost wanted to stop right then. But we played on. I did my newly learned version of "You're gonna make me lonesome when you go". jo3 played a bunch of our standards. SpunkyGirl kept requesting "Moonshadow" and then launching into the chorus by way of encouragement.

I tell ya, last night, around that campfire, that was one of the best nights of my life. It was just so great. The weather was clear and cool, and the moon was nearly full, and we were away from the things of man. But we had brought enough of the things of man to be comfortable, and warm, and well-fed, and tipsy. And we had just great people there. Good company can improve any activity.

And I slept terribly, and now I'm tired, and I won't even go into what jo3 and I went through this afternoon to find a bar in Denver that was playing the Packer game so he could watch the last half. Suffice it to say that I'm home now, and tired and sore, but happy.

And maybe I should now say a word or two about SpunkyGirl.

Rudy knows her through lacrosse. When I asked him about her on Friday night (because I'd never met her) the first words out of his mouth were "Nice, but not dating material".

Rudy and I have some very different views on women in general, and what constitutes "dating material" in specific.

So, yeah, I like her. She's spunky (duh), and has a *ton* of energy, and is smart, and funny, and cute, and *fit*. And she has these eyes. Oh, she has these *eyes*. (Alas, Life) She has these eyes that are the most amazing color, and they're just vivid and beautiful, and I feel like I could just get swallowed up and disappear in those eyes.

And this is the point where I say to myself (because I always do) that I don't know squat about her. And I don't really know *her*. And while I don't have like heart-thumping feelings about her, I do sorta fancy her. And I need to keep everything low-throttle and under control. Because who knows. I mean, I don't know shit about her situation at all. And then there's the not-so-little detail of would she even like me? And in general, I have a large part of me saying that I should just forget it now, and get it over with early. I mean why put myself through all the mental and emotional anguish of imagining that some woman might ever want to date me and then discover that she'd rather put a red-hot poker through her beautiful, enchanting eye?

Why not just forget it now and save myself all that?

And of course I can't.

But I can't for the life of me think right now why.

And this entry has gone on *way* longer than I thought it would. And now I have to decide whether I should skip the gym or skip the resume update or stay up late.

And I'm just tired, and I'm going to sign off now.


Ai, Vida

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