Thursday, Nov. 10, 2005
Rack Em Up
For those of you who were wondering, Dangerspouse hasn't died. Neither did he have any run-ins with vultures or any assorted bizarre creatures. At least, that's what he told me. I had to reassure him that he hasn't lost his touch entirely, though, as what he DID to halt his forays online was handled with his usual panache.
I talked to the dauntless daredevil this morning, albeit briefly, as we both negotiated our way through our respective morning-show madness.
Unfortunately, he really was only hitting me up for new recipes, food whore that he is.
I feel so violated.
Yesterday was challenging. When 1:30 rolled around I finally threw in the proverbial towel and went home. I have been fighting something for a while now - whether it's a cold or flu or what, I don't know. But it was kicking my butt yesterday in a big way. I finished up the life-and-death stuff early yesterday and let the receptionist know I was heading home.
I hit the house with the full intent of sleeping until oh, about Thanksgiving. (I was going to say Christmas, but come hell or high water, I plan on being at Poolagirl's for her play Thanksgiving weekend!) My body being the obnoxiously contrary thing that it is, the whole sleep thing evaded me, though I did laze around on the sofa, turned on the TV for an hour and generally did nothing constructive. I phoned and talked briefly to Mr. Complicated.
There is a hefty measure of irony associated with this person. The more I think about it, the more I think of all the people I've spoken to, he's the "right" person for me, at least in the sense that he's the person I should be with. Now, we'll see of the heart engages or if I've simply been through one screw-over too many for it to revive.
He's got a different set of complications than I've encountered with anyone else; but the more I think about it, the less I think they matter. I've thrown some questions at him that I haven't handed to anyone else (but should have.) We're talking about the kind of questions you ask someone you're planning a life with but are afraid to ask.
In this case, I know he wants to be married, and I am not automatically opposed. Kind of surprises me, in fact, that I don't automatically object, because marriage doesn't have the best connotations for me. I don't know if that's a sign that he's good news, or if I'm just too tired to care. I do know that I'm tired of being alone. I don't have any expectations of great romance any more, anyway. Not all that sure it exists, at least not in my world. At this point I'd be happy to find a companion, a friend; anything else is gravy.
That sounds awfully jaded, doesn't it? I don't know if it's possible for me to undo that, with all of the water under that particular bridge, one of many reasons I've stayed single for so long.
I've read all of the new wisdom that contradicts itself. Marriages that survive are those with lower expectations. Relationships thrive not on practical expectations, but emotional ties. Better to address practical matters. Blah, blah blah. Those articles are enough to convince someone it's better to be single than to have to figure out the maze of what you should and shouldn't do!
I'm not really depressed today, no matter how this sounds. A bit resigned, I suppose, but there are far worse things.
I've got to sign off for now, though. We got in a new dual CD deck for the control room and are trying to figure out how to put things together, considering that instead of a new rack, the purchase arrived with a metal suitcase - the sort of thing a mobile DJ would use - definitely NOT meant for use in a studio. I suspect I'm going to have to go buy a desktop audio rack, provided there's a place in town to do so. And I'm guessing there isn't.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )