time [571]

"you would have the balls to tell me if you ever got tired of me, right?"

~^v*v^~



it feels good inside.

she loves you [570]

i'm in the middle of working on an entry. however, it's almost four in the morning, and it's taking a lot of energy that i don't want to spend any longer.

fact is... i just don't feel that way, anymore. telling the story now... it's ancient history.

i've finally come to a place where it doesn't really bother me, anymore.

that's not to say all is forgiven. far from it. i'm just okay with it, is all.

saturday was day one of the 2009 nfl draft. day one includes the first two rounds, and day two is the third through the seventh. the seahawks picked up wake forest linebacker aaron curry with the fourth overall pick, traded their second (thirty-seventh overall) to denver for denver's first rounder next year.

i sent a text to jeff - "now we have a reason to really hate denver next year!"

the worse they do, the higher the pick we get.

we traded this year's third and fourth rounders to chicago to get their 2009 second rounder (forty-ninth overall), and picked up center max unger out of the university of oregon at a much cheaper price.

since then, we've removed the franchise tag from linebacker leroy hill. after letting it sink in for a few hours, this was a calculated move by the front office. they waited to remove the tag (along with eight million dollars of guaranteed money for hill) until day one ended, when other teams have already blown a lot of cap space and filled their needs at the linebacker position, thus shrinking the market for hill's services, and putting him into a position where not signing with us is stupid.

i'll bet he's pissed.

there are no guarantees - he can still sign with another team, but he doesn't have much leverage.

if it all sounds like greek to you, then that's okay. just take my word for it - after a few weeks of intense smokescreens and posturing, it was a very aggressive and successful day by the seahawks front office.

"as you know, there’s a lot of lying going on."
-seattle seahawks president and general manager tim ruskell.

["timmay!"]

i waited for the phone to ring today.

[no, i didn't think i was going to get drafted.]

the call never came. can you blame me for being confused?

it makes me happy, though... and that's something i haven't felt in a while.

emblissana, my reply (tonight is the night, part II) [569]

she's been my companion this week.

off and on, really. in between the hours i've been sleeping. she's getting to work when i'm close to bed time, and leaving when i awake.

has it really been ten years? eleven?

i recently read something, some blurb about how people we loved and thought we'd know forever, eventually move on, and the people that we may have at one time thought distasteful become closer to us than we'd have ever imagined.

my recent horo:

I actually kind of hope that your brain is in major overload right now. I hope that you're feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the new information you've absorbed, and that your imagination is a blur of wheels within wheels within wheels spinning at top speeds. In fact I'll go so far as to say that if this is the case, you're definitely on the right track. You're doing what's necessary to prepare for rebuilding your foundation in May. And if for some reason there are no wheels within wheels within wheels spinning at top speeds -- if your mind is as empty and clear as a cloudless blue sky in Montana -- then you're probably doing something wrong. So get out there and start stuffing it with new ideas, radical theories, crazy speculations, wild guesses, and raw perceptions.

this has been an interesting week for speculation.

~^v*v^~

here's one of the photos from this week, taken just outside of the rink. i've been playing with night shots:



~^v*v^~

i got the word on thursday afternoon.

hospice is visiting shel on saturday.

i haven't yet managed to talk to her.

this one's for you...



"we were supposed to rise above, but we sink... into the ocean..."

something to believe in (tonight is the night, part I) [568]

twelve-twenty.

it's officially thursday.

two years ago, on the drive home from work, i got the call.

"your grandfather passed away this morning. we wanted to wait to tell you until you were off from work. you okay?"

i couldn't go. not only was i flat broke, but the thought of having to leave work and lose even more money... i'd have taken a pretty big hit, and as it was, i was kinda scraping by.

admittedly, a part of me didn't want to go, either. the thought of being around family members who referred to my granddad as "old fool" just sickened me.

in a blog entry from a now-defunct web site, i mentioned that i used to view my grandmother as the sweetest little old lady.

somewhere around seventeen, i was given a glimpse at the bullshit she's guilty of perpetrating.

my dad has two brothers. each of their sons are complete failures, and their fathers allowed them to be.

while things between my dad and i have never been perfect (fathers and sons... typical), failure was not an option in his house. at the time, it just seemed oppressive, and i'm sure it was. in hindsight, however, my brother and i were given the tools necessary to survive.

not ditch high school because there was a chance for a free car, like my cousin frankie.

not get fifteen year-old girls pregnant at twenty-one, like my cousin joey.

one day, my grandmother had the nerve of telling my dad that he was her least favourite.

and why?

because dad left home. dad enlisted, was sent to korea (it was the seventies, so, well after the ceasefire), came back, went to college, and made a life for himself, the wife his sisters and mother hated, and the two sons that came from it.

granted, he's only ever been a forty-five minute drive away... hispanic families - go figure.

when i heard that my grandmother was still very upset at granddad for taking her away from her family, i cringed. there was nothing for us in mexico, no future, and he knew it. he did everything he could to make sure that future generations would benefit from the choices he made.

i don't think he ever set foot in mexico, again. why would he?

to refer to this great man as an "old fool" is gross negligence and the epitome of selfishness.

so, while i didn't see him laying in the hospital bed, lungs continually drained of fluid so he could breathe, i made sure that he knew i was thinking about him.

"your grandfather says that everything will be all right, and wants you to keep doing what you're doing. he's very proud of you and israel."

a few days before, he told the family that the next time he stopped breathing...

they say no one chooses when.

he did.

he was ready for the next step.

a visionary to the very end.

and as i sit here typing, crying...

... i can't help but be thankful.

when i wanted to move to seattle, everyone was horrified.

"let him go. let him learn. he will, you know. he's not a baby, anymore."

if you're listening, somewhere out there... i think about you in the notes of arpeggios... sunrises when i should have slept through the night... when i look at the spaceman's face... and when i think that you and i will meet again one day.

people always talk about family history, but poor people keep no records.

it doesn't matter, because as far as i've ever been concerned, it all began with you.

one day, my children will understand that... as my father does, as my brother and i do.

these songs are for you. rest assured that they will be blasting from my car stereo on my way to west seattle in about four hours.








~^v*v^~
coming soon, "emblissana, my reply (tonight is the night, part II)"

talk about a short week [567]

i am on vacation.

i worked today, and now i'm off for the rest of the week.

the funny thing is that i don't really have any plans.

i know i should take pictures, especially since this is the first vacation with the new camera, but... i can't really think of anywhere to go. i know chris the bassist and i are supposed to go collect sounds some time this week (or, christache, as we've been calling him, considering the thing on his face).

<laughs>

otherwise...

personally, i just don't want to be awake for most of this. i feel content to sit on my ass and veg in front of all these new the west wing dvd's i've collected.

of course, i also want to eat. i have dreams of beth's cafe and burger joints...

mmm... country-fried steak and eggs... aaaaaggggghhhhh...

all the hash browns i can eat...

it's 1.45aPT as i write this. i don't have to be asleep, although i got word that piiwii's water pipes burst. i offered up my shower so she can prepare for the morning shift... and god knows i'll probably be up until then.

king of the hill is on in fifteen minutes.

i could use a shower. i'm trying to get my legs back after not having skated for a month, and did pretty well tonight.

lotsa cute gothy girlies.

ah, the fantasy...

or, "fantasty".

nice.

i did manage to find a neat place to take a band photo. i normally hate fluorescent lights, but i think this one will work out rather well, if i can manage to get the five of us together again and get us to the skating rink.

it's been almost two months since the five of us have been in the same room at the same time.

i like the spirit of it all, though. such an odd group of people have come together for a common purpose.

it's all i've worked for.

now what?

a means to justify the ends [566]

[another email to a friend]

october 1996.

i'd been away at college for about two months.

i never liked going home, and i think that was evident when my parents bought me a plane ticket.

knowing full well that i abhor flying, they bought me a plane ticket.

my dad had a hard time letting go, i think... overprotective parents makes for sheltered childhood. i remember having to really fight to have what i assumed were "normal" experiences. the fact that i was eighteen and no longer living at home hit my father pretty hard.

the drive from austin to mcallen isn't very long, but he wouldn't let me make the drive for a couple of years. of course, it always took dad eight hours to make the trip. at worst, it took me six, though my personal best would end up being just under four... and i wasn't even speeding.

so, i flew home for a weekend.

turns out that mum, in her infinite ability to swing a deal, found me a transparent wine red les paul copy guitar for about fifty bucks (something like the picture).




i flew back on sunday afternoon. an hour in the air... i mean, if i have to fly, i prefer southwest, but... ugh.

so, anyway, i get back to the dorms, and in my own infinite ability to show off my toys, i started jamming outside.

that's when we started talking.

i'd sorta met ben a couple of weeks before. i was friends with this guy, zack, and considering everyone is a drama queen at eighteen, when zack found out i was in the process of getting a band together, he decided to form one, as well.

of course, zack was more into punk and ska (shit) music, whereas i was firmly entrenched in alternative (and that's hopefully the last time you'll hear me say that word, "alternative")... i had pretty shitty taste in those days that flirted with greatness... unlike now.

so, i guess guys in punk bands are supposed to have stupid nicknames. at that point, i'd only known ben as "squinky".

so, when he introduced himself to me, i was immediately suspicious of him as a musician.

but for having been playing three fewer years than i had, he was pretty good.

also, it would turn out that he was a smashing pumpkins fan... and i was pretty into them, myself, so we bonded, musically.



we would end up doing a lot of things together: music, drugs, economics, women... it was a good time to be alive. the guy became my best friend.

we jammed some from time to time, confident that we could get something going, but living in a dorm has its limitations as far as jamming with other musicians. come february of 1997, i'd joined another band, and was well on my way toward getting my musical career underway.

by the time sophomore year was ready to start, ben moved back to austin, i'd left trespassers william in shame, and had met and never again seen one of my greatest musical heroes, luke (luke is an interesting story in himself... i knew the guy for a mere three hours, but the education and encouragement i got from him in those three hours carries on to this day).

at this point, we decided to get a real band going. he had a friend from high school, dave, move down to austin with him, and dave was a powerful drummer... subtle when he needed to be, but very john bonham-esque, as well... powerful drummer.

the year prior, i'd given our friend, sara, one of my basses:




our lineup seemed complete: dave in drums, sara on bass, and ben and i playing guitar. it seemed like a lock! a band full of friends who drank, dated, drugged, studied, stayed up all night together as often as they could... what better deal is there?


well, sara exited rather quickly, and it would soon mean the end of our friendship... she was too busy being skinny craig's girlfriend that she forgot about a lot of her commitments. i don't know if anyone blamed her for making an exit as opposed to blaming her for the way she chose to exit... no explanation for not showing up to rehearsals, no calls... we had to move on and find someone else.

considering i'm a people-person (don't laugh, it's true), i found chris battle very quickly.

we would also add meagan on violin, although she wouldn't ultimately contribute very much (chris the bassist is not in this photo - meagan, dave, self, ben... we're not drunk in this photo, but none of us are sober ^_^ ).




dave was next to exit, although i'm not entirely sure what happened there... i think dave was just supremely depressed... and living with ben wasn't helping him much. my suspicions were coming to fruition - ben, as talented as he was/is, really was a major asshole.

when dave left the group, i had to put my skills to use again, and quickly found cody to replace him. cody was a major pothead, but one of the most fantastic drummers with whom i'd ever jammed. plus, he was older than we were, and could more easily get us alcohol (we were nineteen, he was twenty-three).

there were a lot of tense moments between november of 1997 and february of 1998. ben was coming into his own as a songwriter, and the rest of us were content to let him guide the group's musical direction.

that is, of course, until he started consistently harping on me to "play better".

my personality is such that the more you bitch at me about something, the less inclined i am to help you or want to help you. as ben was/is prone to bitching like a little girl with a temper too big for her breeches, i was/am prone to stonewalling and allowing you to systematically frustrate yourself into a stupor. my skills as a guitarist were coming into question, just as my abilities to play bass had earlier that year with trespassers william, and though i could certainly have stood to improve, i did not like being emasculated in front of friends, band mates, girls, whatever...

that, i felt, was going to far.

besides, the guy's early material was rough. we didn't mind, we liked it, but it was obvious where some of his shit was coming from, and nobody was eager to play his re-worked version of jane's addiciton's "mountain song".

further, i had spent a lot of my time working on music instead of school... i found the perfect bassist, drummer, rehearsal space, schedule, and was making contacts left and right... who was he to start questioning me now?! i had assumed i'd earned a little leeway.

throughout december of 1997, ben had bitched and moaned about wanting a lead singer. everyone was pretty vehemently opposed to the idea, and ben's argument was, "well, who's gonna do it? lopez and i can't sing!"

um... speak for yourself?

(admittedly, it was this constant barrage that prevented me from stepping to the forefront until only recently. it took a long time to recover from that psychological mess.)

by mid-january 1998, it was obvious that this was not going away, so we relented, and ben got to have his singer. the stipulation, however, was that he had to go and find this person, because no one else was going to do so (i think he assumed i would handle it the way i handled finding chris and cody).

when he introduced brian (total fratboy), battle left the group. he'd had enough, and adding a fratboy to the mix was more than he was willing to deal with... more on chris battle, later.

cody was a bit suspicious at the move, and was smoking more weed than normal. i was upset, and didn't so much as talk to brian.

tuesday, february 3, 1998.

we'd planned on having some guys over for an informal drink/jam session. at this point, ben and i are sharing an apartment, dave had moved back to dallas, and i'm a few hours from turning twenty.

i'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours by the time i got home that afternoon. i had midterms for which i had to study, had to go to work, and was just otherwise completely disorganized. when i got home, and people started showing up, i was on my way out of consciousness. the last thing i remember was that brian guy showing up with a guitar player friend of us.

i think it was about nine pm.

i woke at three am to ben setting down my keys. i guess he'd borrowed my truck to take cody home, as cody had ridden his bike to our place. i was a little annoyed that he didn't wake and ask, and just assumed he could take my truck when he had one of his own, but...

1.15a had passed, and i was now officially twenty. i got up to go to the fridge and grab ben and i couple of beers when he gives me the "we need to talk" nonsense.

what is this? you're my girlfriend, now? shit...

anyway, it turns out that the brian guy brought his buddy over as an audition. ben had been bitching to brian behind my back about my "lack of skills", so brian the fratboy thought he'd help him out by bringing my prospective replacement into my home (though ben would never let me forget that he was on the lease, and i wasn't, so it was his home, and not mine).

the deal was this: play bass to replace chris battle, or leave the band.

okay...

first of all, it's my birthday.

second, how degrading. how emasculating. how fucking infuriating.

third, i'm being kicked out of a band that i assembled? how insulting.

fourth... IT'S MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!!!

so, i told him he could go to hell, and that i wasn't someone he could push around, and i would prove it.

with that, i left the group, and we remained roommates for only a short period after that.

within two weeks of my departure, i'd met josh (a bitchin' slide guitar player who would refer to himself as "honkey"... i never quite understood why, but he never understood why i referred to myself as "below", either, so we were even), and a few days after that, i met everett, one of the most reckless deviants i'd ever met... but he could play badass drums!

(within a few months, we were approached by tess records, but the near-suicide of a girl pretty much derailed that... but that's another story.)

after having met josh and everett, and getting back on track faster than anyone had expected, and experiencing a small explosion of creativity, ben came home one day, two weeks after my departure, and told me that brian had quit the group.

why wouldn't he? all ben had at this point was a drummer in cody... that was it.

all i had was a guitarist, a drummer, a few song ideas, a place to play, and a sense of grim satisfaction at watching ben fail without me.

"dude, i'm really sorry about what happened."
"it's koo'."
"i want you back in the band."
"as a bassist, right? not as a guitarist?"
"right."
"no thanks. i play guitar with my new band."

~^v*v^~

ben is one of my greatest musical influences.

it is because of ben that i have learned what not to do, how not to treat people, and how to remain open to other people's creativity, even though i may not agree with it all the time.

our friendship was off and on for a while. i'm fully aware at the power of my ego, but i also know right and wrong. i know i don't always do the right thing, but i try to atone for my sins as i can.

ben has forever been unapologetic. his way of admitting wrong is, "well, i said stuff, and you said stuff, so let's call it even."

right. i did say stuff.

the difference is that i meant to say stuff, and stand by it to this day.

we didn't talk during the summer of 1998.

and, in april of 2000, just three months before my departure to seattle, he says, "the reason i haven't been hanging out with you is because i don't want to have to miss you when you're gone."

and between august of 2000 and october of 2001, we didn't say much to one another... and from then until about december of 2003.

we road tripped across the country in 2004, and he moved to seattle in july 2005. he didn't talk to me for about four months in 2006 because i referred to his ex-girlfriend as "white trash"... and i stand by that (i don't know what made brandi think she could use the word "nigger" around my friend nicole, who is black).

we tried two or three musical endeavours since the late winter of 1998, and all have failed miserably.

april 1999: "i'll write all the music, and you write all the lyrics because you're not very good at writing music".
february 2006 (in discussing starting a label/studio): "i don't see you doing any actual work! when are you gonna get off your ass?!?"

[i'd already made contact with three studios regarding internships, and had preliminary discussions with a band about financing a record for them... i was the one doing all the work, but he didn't see it]

june 2006: "i'll play bass for you guys so you can learn from me, and know what's right and what's wrong with your music."

i haven't spoken to ben in over a year now. we always used to joke that we never liked each other's respective steadies, but his new girlfriend, emily, is really a kool girl. funny... i finally like one of his girlfriends, and i've had enough of him.

he's always considered me a subordinate. he thinks he's more talented, more resourceful, more virile, smarter, stronger, faster, bigger, sexier, more manly, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda...

whenever shit happens, i've always been there to pick up the pieces.

chris battle quit the band because he felt he could no longer work with ben. i would run into chris a few months after his departure, and he said he'd always liked me, but wouldn't work with me as long as i was hanging around ben.

cody would quit soon thereafter, as well, for the same reason.

in 2001, i would have a few exchanges with vince hagedorn, the guy that replaced me on guitar after i left the band, which would eventually become "kelvin". ben's ego proved to be toothless because vince was a more prolific songwriter, and had the ability to wrangle people to his side, a skill that ben, to this day, has yet to manage. vince was less than flattering about ben's time with kelvin... if you read kelvin's bio on their myspace page, you'll find that their official history begins in 2000, after ben left the group... there is no mention of him on their site (though he is on their friend list).

~^v*v^~

i have forever defended ben in the face of criticism, like an attorney always having to bail out a client that is constantly getting arrested. he doesn't care. never has.

but, i'm thirty-one years old, now. i want something different out of my life. i don't want to be followed around by my college best friend who still acts like an eighteen year-old drama queen. i want to have a productive band, though in his last email to me, he remarked that below blackstar would never work because i'm talentless... and now there's talk about playing at the showbox.

the showbox! that's BIG news!

i want a working band, i want to enjoy my job, and i want to meet someone and get married one day.

i can't have any of that if i have ben as a hanger-on. i would not want my band mates exposed to ben (brian already knows him, and won't have anything to do with him). i would not want my future wife to have to deal with that nonsense, considering such an action is counterintuitive to my role as husband/protector.

i've tried to ditch him a few times, and i hope this time it sticks.

i've repaired a lot of broken relationships since i've disassociated myself. chris battle and i talk every now and again, as do meagan and i. i'm still waiting to hear back from cody, as i've just located him.

we still have friends in common, and people seem to like ben... which is fine with me. i'm an adult, so i don't care who befriends him... i just don't have it in my house, all of the narcissism, the racism remarks, the melodrama... the fact that he'll never see me as anything more than poor little mexican boy from south texas.

~^v*v^~

my parents visited seattle in october 2005, and we all went to dinner. when she asked ben why he moved to seattle, he pointed at me, and said, "him."

at that moment, i knew one thing would forever be true: he needs me more than i have ever needed him.

and i'm all right with that.

i have almost everything i need.

mum. dad. below blackstar. job. shelter. food. a few good friends... and one i'm working on.

i didn't need his headache, then, and i don't need it now.

since i last spoke with him, life has been pretty good.

imagine that.

i think i've earned some peace.

~^v*v^~

[epilogue]


since the writing of this entry, i have located cody, and have had a few back-and-forths with him. the man is doing well. he’s getting ready to open up a new restaurant, is married, and is a brand new father.

he just asked me about ben.

at times like this, i don’t often know what to say.

the truth is that all of this is my problem. there’s no reason that ben can’t have his own friends, or even have friends in common with me. i don’t think he’s a bad person… but what is a bad person? he hasn’t killed anyone, hasn’t raped anyone, hasn’t stolen or cheated or lied.

no, it simply comes down to behaviours, and the kind of behaviours we are willing to tolerate in the people with whom we choose to surround ourselves, in those we are willing to call friends.

while i have fantastic memories of the man, it is more often than not that something always comes up that taints the memories, and only serves to re-focus my thoughts on all of the dumb shit that’s been done.

i’ve often wondered if i just needed thicker skin, and then i’m reminded by a third party that there is a distinct difference between acting like a prick and being a fucking prick.

then i wonder if i’m much different… and i realize that the only thing i can do is understand where i’ve been, all that has happened, and that there are three sides to this story: mine, his, and the truth. with that, i can only hope to be myself, and still manage to be respectful to people that show you that they’ve earned it.

i hope that this is giving you some idea of where my past has led me, and what kind of man i've become as a result.

i can only wish that it's the kind of man that people still want to know.

we all have our scars, and i've never been shy about showing mine.

… even if it all does stink of melodrama.

i'm glad he said it [565]

i got to talking with him about how interacting with his wife was making me laugh.

"seems like a tough girl, dude."
"yeah man - that's why it works!"

i've been on a series of odd dates lately, though i'm damn close on giving up. i don't know... the process is tedious, and it's just ridiculous. i mean, you either have a connection or you don't, right?

anyway, so we're talkin', and he says exactly what i've been pondering since carli ditched:

"if someone let's me go without being checked, i'll run over 'em. that's what i love about my wife - if i'm acting like an asshole, she has no problem with calling me out on it."

he's right... and i'm the same way... almost.

i tend to be quite accommodating: "you okay?", "can i get you anything?", "are you sure?"

the problem is that the more one defers to me, and insists on deferring to me, eventually, there's no going back. if, after a few months, you've continually shown that it doesn't bother you if i get it my way, then i have to assume that i can just start making the decisions because if you won't, someone has to.

and i have no problem assuming that role.

it's not just with girls, though, it's everybody... i don't like wishy-washy people, and am glad to lead you if that's what you've shown you need.

anyway, my first reaction to him was to agree: "i'm glad you said that, because i thought it was just me!"
"no, man - you gotta be you."

we've both been in seattle a while, and though our addresses and driver licenses and such state "seattle", we're not true passive-aggressive seattleites.

just a couple of aggressive jackasses living in one of the greatest cities in the world.

too bad the people are fucked.

maybe they just need a leader.

now that i think about it... [564]

[an email to a friend... -Ed.]

i don't know what set me to thinking about it.

just one of those random thoughts during the day, i suppose.

of course, it was aided by the episode of king of the hill that was just on...

it was march of 1995. i was seventeen years old - tall, lanky, and a complete geek. i was so uncool... i never got invited to parties, or to go drink, or anything of that sort. there was no sneaking out to do those things, either. my dad made sure that our house was a fortress. once lockdown hit, there was no in or out.

anyway, i was playing guitar and video games one day, and my dad walks into my room:

"it's getting close to prom time, isn't it?"
"yeah, i guess."
"you going?"
"i hadn't really thought about it... probably not... nope."
"why not?"
"not into it."
"why not?"
"i don't know - i'm just not. seems kinda stupid."
"you know, if you don't go, you may regret it one day."
"regret what? junior prom? i doubt that."
"why don't you let history be the judge of that?"
"well, i guess i'll worry about that when i'm really old... like, thirty, or something."
"don't be a smartass - you should go to prom."
"i don't have any money. you won't let me get a job."
"your grades are important. i don't want you wasting time at a job and let your grades suffer."
"high school is easy - trust me, my grades won't suffer."
"don't be a smartass. you're going to prom. money is no object. i'll take care of it."
"why?"
"so you don't regret not going when you're older."
"whatever."
"don't be a smartass" [there was a lot of that growing up, as you can imagine... it's not like i listened.]
"i can't go. i don't have a date. it's sorta late for that kinda thing."
"you'll get a date. what about ceci?" [ugh... i haven't thought about ceci (cecilia) in a long time... ugh...]
"what about her?"
"why don't you ask her out? mr. garcia's daughter is her friend, right? doesn't she like you?"
"i don't think ceci is the kind of girl you thi..."
"you're going with ceci. call her."


well, i didn't call her.

but i was pretty pinned down - any excuse i made for not going, he one-upped me with an offer of money, or a tux rental, or letting me have the truck for the night...

mum was behind him 100%, too... i was so screwed.

so, i saw ceci at school the following monday. as i recall, she was a freshman while i was a junior... actually, i just looked in my senior yearbook (god, i haven't thumbed through that fuckin' thing in forever... UGH!), she was a sophomore my junior year, yes.

anyway, ceci and i had flirted before... or, what's more correct, she'd flirted with me.

"so, you, uh... wanna go to prom?"
"sure! that sounds fucking great!"

greeeeaaaat...

anyway, i remember the tux... probably because i have a shitload of those pictures left. i gave half of them to ceci, and only gave a couple to my parents. the rest are in my archives. i never passed any of those out to anybody.

the tux, right... black pants, black cummerbund, white shirt, black bow tie... check this: white coat. i don't know, it kinda made me feel like james bond, and i was the only guy at prom wearing something that different. it was a statement - i am different, assholes!

so, i picked ceci up that night, and... for the life of me, i can't remember where we went to dinner... if we went at all. i was pretty embarrassed the entire time, but i'd had the whole thing planned.



yes, we must have gone to dinner... this was, well... it was my first-ever date. i wanted to try to be romantic.

i'm not sure why. i didn't really like her all that much. i guess i felt it was one of those things that you do. you know... you just do.

girls really didn't like me much... at least, not that i was aware of (and i was into someone i couldn't... but that's another story).

anyway, so we ate, and went to prom... "midnight on bourbon street" was the theme, if i remember correctly. i don't even think we danced. as soon as we arrived, ceci had more friends there than i did.

we took pictures, and then was asked what the plan was.

"well, i brought my stereo, and some cd's... i thought maybe we could go to the lake and talk a while under the stars."

[i meant it, too. i had my boombox, plenty of batteries and cd's, a blanket to sit on, and some iced tea and glasses prepared in the back of my pathfinder. the thought of funny stuff hadn't even entered my head. i figured i'd be lucky if she kissed my cheek when i dropped her off that night.]

that's when i realized what kind of person ceci really was.

"well, okay... i think marissa and her date, and so-and-so and her date are going to come with us, okay?"
"um..."

so, i don't think we were at prom but about ninety minutes... i'd picked ceci up at seven, we ate, were at prom by nine, and left at about ten-thirty.

by eleven, we were at the lake.

we walked out onto the pier/deck/wood thing... she reached into her purse, and pulled out a pack of smokes. she pulled one out of the pack, sparked it, offered me one... i declined.

"so, marissa and everyone will be here, soon... what did you think we were going to do? stare at the water and talk all night?"
"um... not all night. i brought tea..."

her friends pulled up, and got out of their car. they walked up, greeted us, and then invited us to go to marissa's house to get drunk.

"i... i can't. i'm driving. besides, my dad would freak."
"well, sucks to be you. i'm going, okay? have a nice night!"

and with that, they were gone.



i stayed at the pier/dock/wood thing for another twenty minutes, and then got in the truck and left.

i'd made a few mixtapes - and i mean tapes... this is when you could still buy cassettes at major retailers... when there were major music retailers.

so, i popped in a tape, and drove off. it was about eleven-thirty, and was one of the few nights that my dad had completely lifted curfew.

interesting note: the following year, for senior prom, when i actually went with someone who didn't ditch me, he made me come home by midnight. lame.

anyway, i drove around for a few hours. i had to fill the gas tank at one point... i just drove and drove and drove... i even considered going to the beach, but the thought of having tons of couples doing god-knows-what on the beach on fucking prom night wasn't very appealing.

at one point, i ended up at the all-night wal-mart, thumbing through their cd section, looking at books, magazines, cheap jewelry, staring at cereal boxes...

finally, at about two-thirty, i'd had enough. i got back in the car, and started the drive home.



i stopped at the lake one last time... and by then, there were tons of cars in the parking lot, windows fogged-up, house-a-rockin'...

i didn't even turn the ignition off... i kept right on going.

i stopped at the whataburger closest to my house, and got the largest strawberry shake they could give me.

by now, my shirt was untucked, my cummerbund in the backseat, my tie undone...

i got home, unlocked the door, and walked in.

dad was in the living room, passed out on the recliner, as is his wont.

he was waiting up, of course. as soon as he heard the key enter the deadbolt, he woke.

when i walked in, he asked, "did you have fun?"

"sure."
"did you get ceci home all right?"
"sure."
"what did you do after prom ended?"
"just... drive around."
"gas in the truck?"
"yeah... full tank. here are your keys."
"all right. have a good night, son."

my folks don't know what happened to me that night, and they never asked. i was pretty embarrassed, so i never volunteered the information, either. i often wonder if dad thinks i was more popular than i actually was. maybe his boy went out and got some, or something...

i never spoke to ceci again. i didn't go out of my way to ignore her, but it sure seemed like she was ignoring me.



a lot of people i know today didn't go to prom. maybe they were "too cool" for that kind of thing, or saw it for the pompous display of pageantry that it is, and found better things to do with their time. maybe they were drunk, and were sneaking out of their houses, and did all the badass stuff i wish i could have done (our fence was ten-feet tall, and we had guard dogs in the backyard... yeah, i wasn't going anywhere). maybe they just weren't fortunate enough to have parents like mine, people who cared about them and wanted them to have good experiences. maybe they simply couldn't afford it, or didn't believe in it. maybe they just didn't go, and regret it to this very day.

my dad meant well, for sure. he worked hard his whole life so his sons could have normal lives.

his oldest boy would have otherwise stayed home and played guitar and video games that night. i was pretty good at the mutant league football, you know...

i was a late bloomer. to a certain extent, i still am.

if i were seventeen again (and i won't be, thank god), i don't think i would go through that again.

or maybe it was for the best. i'm not sure...

this surely doesn't compare to any of the fucked up things through which some people have had to endure. this isn't even close, and i don't pretend to think of myself as having any reason to feel less than fortunate for all i've been given.

but, you know... sometimes...

sometimes.

easy like sunday... afternoon? [563]

pink floyd dark side of the moon pj's.

water boiling for oolong tea... got my special turbinado sugar, too.

still watching episodes of the west wing.

i've been laughing at myself, lately... three bad dates in a row with three women who just... they aren't... i know exactly what i'm looking for, and it isn't them, for one reason or another.

it's a good feeling, knowing.

and for now, that's enough. that'll do.

~^v^~
it's been twenty-five months, you know.

i think the idea of "shayna" is bigger than the actual person.

i'm pretty sure it is.

it's a good feeling, knowing.

and for now, that's enough. that'll do.

eat my dust you insensitive fuck [562]

been playing with the format. it's let me know how out-of-practice i am with html or any other coding languages.

however, i think i sussed it out. the only issue is that those of you with smaller monitors or lower resolutions may have issues seeing the page properly (i.e. the way i see it at my home pc).

i figure if this is going to be home, it might as well look like what i want it to look like.

nothing exciting, otherwise... social life has gone to hell.

at least i'll be back at roller skating this week it's been about a month since i was last there. after getting sick, stressed out, and sick to my stomach...

it's time i return.

... aaaaaaand we're back. [561]

i found it hard to continue using blogger.

mostly because the blog community to which i was posting had a few features and a few loyal readers which i found more to my liking.

however, that's all gone, now, so, i've returned.

as you can see by the entry number, a few have been written since my last post, here. no, i'm not going to fill those in - they're not relevant to who i am today as opposed to who i was when i wrote them.

"... and i'm a million different people from one day to the next..."

with very little choice, i will be here from now on.

maybe it'll be the same. or worse. or even better?

only time will tell.

at any rate, this is your old unky airbags, alive and well, and still pushing forward.

the road goes ever on...