and all the stars were crashing ’round as i laid eyes on what i’d found

The crap is floating around my head.

Some of it’s just native, commonplace crap that’s always there.

Some of it’s new crap because. you know, you gotta freshen things up once in a while.

And some of it’s the stuff people thought I needed, or couldn’t make room for in their own heads. “Here,” they say, “Take this crap. I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

Ha, like I do?

Anyway. I’ve gotten really good at sorting the crap, but getting rid of it? That’s a whole other bushel of premature kittens abandoned under your front porch in the dead of winter.

Lately two thoughts are swirling at the top:

1. You’re too old to ever be a success NOW. You’ve got two degrees, a failed marriage, you just escaped from a rotten relationship and a rotten job and you lost your apartment. You suck. You don’t know anything useful to anyone and you can’t even get a shit job without grovelling. Nobody will ever love you again. And if they do, they’ll probably treat you like shit because you have no spine. You could go back to school but then you’d have THREE useless degrees and no experience and you REALLY should have thought about the Rest Of Your Life about 30 years earlier. (For perspective’s sake, let’s just say I’m under 40.) You’re always going to struggle and worry and you’re never going to get the house or the wife or the anything-resembling-success. Even your modest dreams are too much for the universe to be bothered with, so just get used to sucking at life, k?

2. Never date anyone who hates the Decemberists.

For some reason the second one hits me every so often, like a brick to the face, because it’s just so bloody obvious.

You can, if you like, substitute your favorite band at the end of that sentence, because you may not have even heard the Decemberists. Or you may have heard them and decided they weren’t your thing, and that is completely fair. They’re adorably indie bookish nerd rockers from Portland Fucking Oregon. Not everyone likes that. But everybody – with the exception of this one guy I knew in community college who “liked everything” but had no actual fondness for any of it – has a favorite or two.

So – never date anyone who hates your favorite band.

They’re your favorite band for a reason. Or maybe more than one. Most definitely likely more than one. They speak to your heart and your ears and your soul and it feels like someone you’ve never met is saying all the things you’ve ever felt, but saying them so much more beautifully than you thought possible –

And then your significant other or maybe someone-who’s-just-in-tryouts-to-be-your-significant-other says, “God, I hate them.”

It kind of feels like they’re hearing the connection between you and that music, and there’s a vulnerability there, and they take that moment to just stab the shit out of you just for being you and liking what you like and it’s just one of the biggest Asshole Moves you can do to someone.

Why would you ever want to date someone who pulls a move like that?

Why did I?

Not going to make that mistake again.

I am, however, going to leave you with this:

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