The Make-Me-Believer

So, you know when you meet a new guy, and you're instantly just... blown away? And your afraid to show how in AWE of him you are, so you feign indeference as well as possible, when it's taking EVERY OUNCE of self-control to not drag him around to EVERY PERSON you've ever met and say, "This is Him. This is the man who renewed my faith in a just God." And the sex is like... dude.

Heather Headley's "He Is" is that experience. And then some. Sometimes a love song is so good that by the bridge, you find yourself convinced that you are ACTUALLY IN LOVE. Even when you have no prospects, a so-so haircut and about as much hope of sex in the coming months as Osama Bin Laden in his cave-y paradise, you still walk around mouthing (and ok, occaisionally breaking down and actually singing) along to your ipod - with some very solid picture of your imaginary boyfriend (Fabrizio Moretti) in your head while you TESTIFY for your love.

Although that line about "The Baby Conceiver" always comes out weird from a gay male mouth...

Dudes. SOUL music = where it's at. Seriously.

Owning Up (or at least trying to)

I was recently reading an interview with one of my favorite artists, and when asked about her inspiration, she said that she had spent a lot of time thinking about self-sacrifice and accountability, which was something she didn't think that people thought about much these days.

That stuck with me.

In the Mormon Church (and all other Christian denominations pretty much) there's a concept (named several different things) that I'll refer to now as "Godly Sorrow." It's this ultra-heightened sense of tragedy that dawns on a sinner when he realizes that not only has he sinned, and therefore harmed someone else or himself, but that his sin has been paid for by the suffering of Christ (during the Passion) and that he, in his sin, was acting as a nail through the flesh of God. So, due to a sin committed today, you have the potential to inflict harm upon yourself, others, God, and therefore everyone on the planet (past and future), because in hurting God you hurt every spirit mad in the image of God, and you're part of this big retroactive circle of hurt! Yikes!

In the last couple of months, I've behaved and reacted to the things around me in a way that I'm not very proud of. I've said unfair things to people who were trying their best. I've made unfair conclusions about everyone. I've put off the people who have shown me the most kindess and love, and I've taken out a couple of bystanders in some wrath-filled moments of immaturity.

I want to be accountable for my shit, but what's the best way to go about it? Sometimes the contact required for an apology only rips open a healing wound. Is it ever best to just leave a mess alone for someone more qualified to clean up? How long is it appropriate to hold onto guilt? At what point is it ok to let go?

Turn on the radio at any given moment, and you can hear hundreds of anthems screeching the joys of independence and self-sufficiently. I pay my own bills. Buy my own cars. I don't need anyone to take care of me or love me. I'm perfect the way I am, and any attempt to change me is an afront to my unique spirit. But the fact of the matter is we're all just constantly crashing into each other and affecting each other's lives and it's impossible to make it to the front of the Starbucks line in the morning without having already made or ruined someone's day. In a way, we're accountable for every human being we pass throughout our day - and they're sort of accountable for us.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, I'm really sorry if I've hurt anyone, and I'm ERNESTLY going to try to make more people's days.

Best Makeout Record of ALL TIME

As I sit here at work, perusing my ipod for forgotten treasures, I've realized that there is absolutely no reasonable explanation for why New Order's "Get Ready" (2001) is SO FUCKING GOOD. Listening to "Crystal" or "Slow Jam" can't help but bring lengthy hyper-realistic fantasies of making out with pale skinned Calvin Klien models in black&white oceanscapes or neverending undecorated hallways.

The first time I listened to this album, I was on my way to meet a couple of friends to do a bunch of drugs in honor of our loveless Valentine's Days. Good times, good times...

Yay Monday.

I'm not completely positive yet, but I'm pretty sure I hate my new haircut.

I felt so GOOD about it when I first walked out of the salon, but then I ran into FOUR different friends who all remarked on it with ABSOLUTELY no compliment attached. In fact, the more honest ones offered that I "looked like a little boy" or that it was "too army."

So, there goes my social life for February. I'll be spending long nights at home re-watching the DVD's for "Lost" and growing my hair into some semblance of normalcy.

In better news - I BOOKED A TRIP TO PARIS! I'm going with my friend Ryan, who I adore in every capacity - and it's going to be AMAZING (although it promises to put me in debt for the next 20 years at least). AND it's in 9 weeks! So I'll have time to grow my hair out! Yay!

I need coffee.

My New Calling

http://www.dancesport.com/

So, it would appear that you can actually take lessons to learn to "do the hustle."
Yes, I said it. THE HUSTLE.
I KNOW that someone out there wants to do this with me.

Amy Grant is my Salvation.

So, apparently, through my headphones, an old lady asking, “Where’s the train station?” sounds like an old lady asking “Spare Change?”

WOW – Let me tell you! Everything that ensued after that was embarrassing!

Je Suis Bien

Well, last night I attended a positively TRANSCENDENT Los Super Elegantes show at Home (which was actually a pretty cool venue - despite being the sort of place that's frequently brought up in Life & Style as a spot where celebs "canoodle.")

I, for one, think it's safe to say that I have never, nor do I ever intend to, canoodle. It kind of gives me the heebies just thinking about it.

So, I went with my new friend Andy, to see the band that I was introduced to by my ex-bf from California, Kyle, so I could talk to the lead singer, Martiniano, who also dated Kyle, and along the way ran into this guy I used to see named Joshua, and also Ethan Rose from WMA (who's running high on his t-shirt company and LOTS of alcohol)and Andy ran into like 7 friends from Oberlin, and by the end of the night I was frankly exhausted by the amount of personal connections one racks up by living in NYC and/or LA (or apparently, Ohio).

I remember the first time I hit up a dance club in Boston - I didn't know a SOUL. It was so liberating! I could dance however I wanted to! I could introduce myself as anyone or anything! I could make out indiscriminately!

Ahhh... but those days are gone...

They're getting ready for a big event at my job, so they're rolling God Knows WHAT over the top of my office right now, which makes it feel like there's some serious earthquakes going on - and in addition they keep testing the alarm systems and then coming over the loudspeakers to tell us to "ignore the alarms." Half the time, we don't even hear the alarms, which makes me nervous because what if there really IS an earthquake and I totally don't notice it and then they put on some alarm that I can't hear and the next thing you know, someone's taken a Pulitzer winning prize shot of my blackened foot sticking out of a pile of rubble from the great NYC Quake of 06.

Baby Steps

So, I come into work this morning, set for another day of perpetual zone-out, only to find that the dude in my neighboring office has recently developed some sort of balls-out obsession with a worse-than-average (and that's saying something PROFOUND) MIDI recording of Pachabel's "Canon in D."

For those of you who didn't spend your entire young lives locked up with musical instruments in liu of actually making friends, Canon in D is that terrible song that they always have string quartets playing at weddings on TV. It's played (badly) by beginning piano students EVERYWHERE - and (I always assumed) forgotten as soon as said kids are capable of playing something else and thereby alleviating their own self-induced torture.

Apparently, however, some people just... don't get over it? And they spend all of time and eternity WANTING to be stuck in a never-ending add for budget wedding gowns?

So this dude's playing this song... over and over again... and I realize - this is my moment. I'm going to start doing geeky musical things again. So, I transposed it. Yes, temp work requires so little of me, that I actually sat down and TRANSPOSED THIS GODDAMN MUSICAL MONSTROSITY for the sake of seeing if I still could. It's not a hard piece, but God - I'm out of practice! I could barely remember chord scales or common-sense composition theory! I actually had to play an imaginary piano on my desk to figure out some of the notes... *shudders*.

But I did it. And now I'm going to go home and play really sad really easy Patty Griffin songs on my guitar (mostly because lately, I'm REALLY FEELING sad Patty Griffin songs, but also partially because I know it will DEEPLY ANNOY the Dominican Bowling enthusiasts upstairs. Yeah, you hear that you pathological furniture movers! I'm singing my ass off! And it's blues inspired guitar picky FOLK MUSIC TOO! So I GET TO BE AS ANNOYING AND WHINEY AS I WANT!!!

Vengeance is Mine; I will repay.
Romans 12:19