If you haven't any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble. ~Bob Hope

Tuesday, January 3, 2006

I fought the blog and the blog won

Good news kids! Flyaway Minion has four dates coming up! Four things for me to look forward to in 2006! Yippee!
I told a bunch of people that next time the band played that they were coming with me. 1/11 is out because it's a school night, and here we all thought getting older would alleviate that problem!  Two of the dates are in Cincy, so for the time being they are out because I don't really feel like going to Cincy. So, Friday the 13th at Canal Street Tavern it is! I really hope no one backs out. I hate it when that happens. Plus, Canal Street is a pretty intimate venue and I might faint (or worse) from all the excitement.
I can not wait. I downloaded the mp3s from their website http://www.flyawayminion.com last week. (You can hear other songs at http://www.myspace.com/flyawayminion.)
All this Friday the 13th talk made me laugh to myself. Several years ago, I wrote a poem called Friday the 13th Dreaming. I dug it up when I got home from work, and now I am going to post it here. Beware, it's epic.
Friday the 13th Dreaming
This day has never bothered me
Every other day of my life has
Been unlucky so it's nothing new.
Usually it just conjures up the
Image of that hitchhiker getting it
And banana and blood spewing.
My new issue of Rolling Stone
Came in the mail today,
And now I am sitting
Dreaming about being an interview.
Being important enough that
Someone wants to know what
I think about anything.
I'd be witty and wonderful,
And talk about things like
My greatest influences
And musical taste and
Tell them what
Seems to really drive me
Is my incredible propensity
For making bad decisions.
It's a perfect day for dreaming.
Cool, crisp, lazy July.
And I think about you.
Probably the worst kind of dreaming.
Wondering exactly what your thinking.
Wondering if there is anything about
Me that is possibly interesting to you.
Trying to conjure up ways to seduce you.
Alice says I just need to be witty.
I told her I don't know how,
At leeast not with you.
I suppose it's become idol worship,
Or something on that level.
Sitting here day after day,
Seeing more and more that I like,
And thinking more and more
That maybe I missed a connection
Somewhere and that I'll never
Ever get back on the right flight.
As torturous as it is,
I don't really mind being friends.
God knows, I need them right now.
But it would be nice to feel like
Someone really needed me.
To think that I wasn't the only one
Wasting hours dreaming about things
To do when you come home,
Secretly planning dates.
I'd ask you blunty to share
With me your feelings,
But there's truth in what
That song says about there
Being innocence in dreaming.
In this dream world,
At least there is still
A glimmer of hope,
A whim of a chance.
I keep examining everything,
And it is disheartening to
Think that all I want
I won't ever get.
To think that rock 'n roll dreams
Don't come true.
To think that maybe Dave was right
That someday, I would grow up
And marry an accountant,
And stop lusting after bad boys.
I hardly think of you as a bad one,
Again a testament to how little
I might know about you.
But with all I do know,
I can not imagine you as
Inherently evil,
Only mischevious.
I might even say something about
That in my RS interview.
Tell them about my reoccuring
Fantasies starring you.
Talk about how, despite all of
The frustrations, all of the
disappointments, you make me
Feel like the reast of the world
Doesn't exist.
And when you read that article
In some hotel lobby somewhere,
You'll discover that all of this
So-called talent of mine sat
Dormant for years,
And that there was something
About knowing you,
That helped me know myself.
Not because of being together
Or thinking about being together,
But because of all the times apart.
In idle thoughts, I would remember,
A world I used to know.
The first time I think I saw you,
Singing onstage.
And the first time that I really
Acknowledged your existence,
Standing in the wings,
Waiting to go on.
Or that night night I was informed that
my partner in ladies' room chatter
Was your girlfriend.
But in all of this remembering,
I've unearthed a memory of
A thought that I could never win,
A thought that given where I
Stand in this life has
Been multiplied billion-fold.
Se, this day is no big deal,
I have always been unlucky.
Shwoo! See, I told you it was long! As a side note, the guy who inspired this poem disappeared of the face of the earth about 2 months later. Fear not, though, he magically reappeared two years later eventually rendering me unable to watch When Harry Met Sally without breaking down into hysterical, heart-wrenching crying. I got what I wanted though, and as bad as it felt when it all fell out giddy, happy, joy, joy, I'm glad. I wouldn't be saying that though if things had not been said since then. I'd still do anything for that boy, well, except for other girls and farm animals. There's always been something, and there always will be something but it's just not that something that gets to be together.
Enough of all this, y'all need to get back to work :)  

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