Music Monday

Today was another one of those days where I didn’t want to get out of bed.  My old habits crept back as I slept in until 2pm, giving me a solid 11 hours of sleep.  Perhaps the rest was good, as my sinuses cleared out all sorts of yellow gunk while green tea soothed my throat throughout the afternoon.  With the house to myself, it seemed like a good day to undertake Phase 2 of the Spring Manscape.  Goodness only knows what my housemates think of me when they can hear that beard trimmer going for an hour straight…

On gloomy days like today, where the rain is still freshly pooled on the back porch, I like to turn to my music for inspiration.  After discovering an old iTunes gift card while spring cleaning the other day, I have $10 to spend on my wishlist.  However, I’m torn whether to buy this album from a band I just discovered the other day after I got hooked on their song “These Times” as heard in the trailer for People Like Us.  In case I never said it before, I’m a huge fan of Chris Pine and his eclectic cinematography.  In fact he is the very reason I gave up my grudge against Star Trek after his stellar performance (no pun intended) in the franchise’s reboot.  Of course now anytime I watch that movie it evokes this jaded sensation because I saw it last with Zoey after she shot me down once I’d already flown out to Stockton, CA to see her.  Glee has the same affiliation, sadly, although I can fondly remember sipping scotch with her Dad who somehow got hooked on it (the show, I mean) with me while I was there.

There were some UM job applications today but it is well past the point where I need to branch out and even look down under – with any luck I can find a job there that will get my ass to Australia without paying an arm and a leg!  To be able to tell people that’s my current endeavor again feels great, as I’ve realized in just the past few days.  Even when talking to people I don’t know that well, like Amanda’s friend Jennie who asked me what I’m doing these days, you can sense the excitement in their responses and it gets me all the more stoked.  In fact Jennie told me about her pursuit of a vineyard job down under with a friend that fizzled out when something closer to home presented itself.

Tomorrow is the day it all changes and I look back on May 8th 2012 as the moment my new life began.  The journey begins with all the preparation these next few months hold to get me where I need to be come Thanksgiving and all other family holidays that I now dread.  If my parents were out of the picture, or had their lives together (separately), it would be another story… but until that day comes, I’m making my own life the way I always wanted.  Adventure is like a middle name to me, and it’s about time I broke free of this bubble called Ann Arbor.  As an archaeological anthropologist, Australia has always been my home and it’s time to go back.

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Memories of a Winter Camp…

With unforeseen dread, Michigania is sleeplessly stuck on my mind yet again…

Winter Camp.  A time to celebrate the snowy season in northern Michigan, watch stunning sunrises over a frozen Walloon, kick back by the many fireplaces in the Ed Center – with steaming hot cocoa of course – after some snow shoeing, skiing, or hard-core sledding.  For me, I only ever experienced the last because I blew it the first morning of camp, two days after a dysfunctional family Christmas.  I showed up to work an hour late, alcohol still on my breath from RAGING the night before.  And to make matters worse, I had drunk-texted some nonsense to the chick I had a huge crush on that likely sealed my fate for weirding her out.  Inevitably this would be my last mistake allowed in order to work at Michigania, equating to everyone’s shock when I wasn’t hired on for Summer 2011.

For weeks after James had told me I would be one of only twelve specially selected staff privileged to work WC2010, the image of a memorable winter wonderland on Walloon had been growing steadily.  By the time I was in a car with two fond Family Olympics co-staffers to head up at the crack of dawn, my excitement could have literally exploded.  The holidays had been a stressful disaster I can hardly even remember now, steeped sourly with my parents separation.  Finally I had my escape from the depressed state of “home” living with my Mom who was doing her best to keep it together.  Literally days before Christmas this year, she made a point to take me out to breakfast and thank me for all the love and support I provided during those dark dreary months.

The group of Winter Camp staffers would undoubtedly be a tight-knit one, with “best friends” breaking off here and there.  Aside from one other staffer in particular, this crew couldn’t have been much more fun.   Differences aside, this staffer seemingly held a grudge against me from summer events that never directly related to her – that is, they were none of her business.  To this day I resent her openly opinionated air and abrasive attitude, despite my discrete discussions with fellow staffers close to her.  Staffers who agreed she can be overly critical and judgmental assured me not to take it too personally from the get-go, but time would reveal it was personal from the very beginning.  Yet it was never her fight to fight.

That’s not what is keeping me up tonight though, oh no…
What crossed my mind was a very specific interaction I remember with a certain someone.  We were sorting ski boots together in the basement of the Ed Center while I attempted to hide my hangover.  Conversation was mellow, but good, and then all of the sudden she confronted me about that ridiculous text message.  At first I had no clue what she was talking about, as I’d forgotten ever sending the wretched thing, so I asked her what she was talking about.  She responded, “Oh nevermind…” as if I was blowing some suspicion off.  Well then when I went into the other room to grab more ski boots, I whipped out my phone and memory punched me right in the face.  My jaw fell open.

To put it perfectly, this message totally looked like a Text From Last Night.  Slightly jarbled, clearly intoxicated, and definitely embarrassing.  And believe me, I don’t like to admit embarrassment, but it does happen on rare occasion with this instance definitely being one of them.  It wouldn’t be until later that day I could even find the words to admit to her how drunk I was and say sorry.  However… why didn’t I play around with it?  Why did I forgo any sort of flirting?  Here was my golden opportunity, perfectly laid out before me, to banter with a girl I had harbored a crush on all summer.  Nevermind she was 19 and I four years older at the time…

Seriously though, with what little chemistry that might have existed, history may have been written a different way and I totally blew it.  How does this keep me up at night?  Because I’m one of those people who gets carried away over-analyzing certain situations.  90% of the time I make bold choices in life laden with spontaneity and without regret.  So when something doesn’t happen the way I imagine it (ideally-but-not-perfect), I can’t help but think about how I should have acted differently.  Ah the lessons of life, all we can do is roll with the punches.

Other opportunities would come and go, until it became blatantly obvious that she didn’t view me as an option for her.  Frankly asking a guy like me whose 24 if he is still a virgin couldn’t be more insulting.  Obviously you are trying to be funny if your best friend is right there chiming in too, but it came at my expense.  I knew then that you didn’t know me at all and didn’t even care to have one of camp’s notorious “heart-to-hearts.”  Then again, your unprecedented Valentine’s Day Story on the very last night of camp would shock me into realizing how little I knew about you.  Point taken, and I’m glad at the very least we are still friends.

~

If anything, I fully realize little actions now I should have never taken then which seemed humorous to me yet awkward to others.  This is hard to explain without going into detail and god forbid I should reveal anyone’s privacy.  Honestly, the simple truth is I respect those who respect me.  If it’s not mutual, I won’t hesitate to give you a taste of your own medicine.  Some of that happily went down at Mt. Michigania 2011 and I’m sure you know who you are, albeit it wouldn’t surprise me if you were too wrapped up in your own world to really remember or care.  Never once did this fellow staffer attempt to apologize to me for all her insidious quips or insults.  Such a shining case of favoritism from Admin as well.

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Back to the Coffee Grinder

Last night I had another late close even though the 9-10pm hour hailed approximately two customers total.  Yes, that meant another long one hour walk home…  After a 90+ degree weather day that definitely had a plethora of lingering humidity near the midnight hour.   Honestly the exercise is good for me, and I DO enjoy walking over the Huron Parkway bridge at night, but there was something about not having my iPod nano last night for the trek that really got to me.  However, on the other hand, I definitely cleared my head again.

One highlight of my night was the return of flirty photographer girl, who again asked me to choose whatever was good frozen for her.  Apparently my new lack of hair was no deterent.  If anything, she may have been even MORE insistent on me picking out her drink for her.  This time I didn’t hesitate to oblige.  So conversation at the milk steamer came easily and it took no time to learn that she had just completed a two and a half year photography program at WCC sponsored by Canon.  Baller.  Perhaps it’s time to go back to school?

After all the aggressive criticism from my boss I don’t see why not, if all else fails in the impending job hunt as well.  Working at Kerrytown would be a blast, but I’m not getting my hopes up or crossing any fingers just yet.  Pursuing my passions seems like a priority.  It’s high time to rev back up for the summer and find something both fun and fulfilling.

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The Killing: A Soundless Echo

If you haven’t heard any talk about AMC’s new drama The Killing than you haven’t been out enough lately – okay sure, I might be blowing up this show a little much already…

Seriously though, go check it out right here, right now:
http://www.amctv.com/the-killing/videos/the-killing-episode-4

In this latest episode, not only was I moved per usual by the sadness of Rosie Larsen’s murder mystery but substantially so by the progression in her parent’s story within it.  Specifically when Rosie’s mother greets Rosie’s best friend in the hallways of the HS, and they both look like hell, the tears started trickling down my cheek too.  I couldn’t help it.  Not only is this heavy stuff, but the actors are so easy to relate to on this show.  Honestly.  It’s raw; it’s real; it’s reality.  Even if this is just a show, someone out there in the world must have a story like this and it’s horrifying to think how any human being could possibly survive such a perilous loss like that of a brutal murder.

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There Is Always A Harbor To Shelter From The Storm

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Looking at the receipt, I reluctantly smiled… The tuna fish cans were only 25c instead of $1 each, while the 6 pack of Ramen remained the same price.  All of my quarters were gone now on the $2.22 receipt I … Continue reading

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