Same But Different

My ex boyfriend was in town this weekend. He moved out of state for his job about a year and a half ago, but I haven't seen him in about four years.

So much changes, yet so much stays ridiculously the same.

Other than the "so what have you been doing for the last however long it's been?", it was all very familiar. Too familiar.

I had grown comfortable with someone not being there and then BAM - someone's there again without the messiness and trial and error of learning a new someone. Except now he's in my headspace again and I worked freakin' hard to get him out of there - not an easy task considering he's an editor of a prominent magazine that my dad happens to subscribe to and has laying all over his house.

After dinner we just kind of hung out and cuddled while watching a movie. During that time we communicated more and were more open then we ever were when dating. He's several years older and we started dating when I was 19 - most of the the relationship seemed to have been a battle of who could care less - a battle I constantly lost. Things were said that should have been said a long time ago. It may be after the fact, but it's nice to know I was and have been in his head as much as he's been in mine. Now there's nothing left but a comfortable affection.

I realized that the set up I have with my pillows is just a poor man's attempt to get back there - to that comfiness and closeness.

When he left I said "see you in another four years." He protested and insisted that it won't be that long. It won't ... it will probably be longer.

Oh, and I drove a brand new Porsche 911 GT2. So I have that going for me.

Edited to add:

1) a whole bunch of extra stuff up there.
2) I originally posted this with about 1/3 of what's written above. I mentioned to a friend that I was debating posting something even that personal, but upon a re-read after publishing I realized it was hardly personal or intimate at all. I realized that my entire adult life, like I mentioned above in reference to my relationship, has been a battle of who could care less out some kind of an attempt to save my ego - a battle that I've generally won. Well, fuck that. This shit's getting more personal. You still may think that what's up there isn't that revealing, but I'm pretty uncomfortable posting it, so it's a hell of a lot more personal that my usual M.O. We'll see - I may jump back over my wall, but since blogging is apparently the new (free) therapist, I'll work at it.

"New" Music

I have a 30 GB iPod that's completely full of music. I don't have photographs, TV shows, anything on there other than music.

In the grand scheme of things, that's not a huge amount of music, but I have a bunch of stuff on there that I have never heard. I have probably not listened to about 1/4 of what's stored on there.

So every once in awhile I put my little white bundle of awesome on shuffle and discover some "new" music.

So far today I've found a great David Grey song, a just okay Until June song, rediscovered an unreleased song from one of my favorite artists from back before he was even marginally known, and fell in love with a Damien Rice song I had only cursorily listened to before.

In fact, I think now I'm going to go listen to DR's whole 9 album ...

UPDATE: I love the song so much, I hunted it down on YouTube to share it. Enjoy:

Damien Rice - Elephant

The Little Men In My Head Take Lots of Breaks

I was in the grocery store a couple days ago in the self check out line (which my introverted self LOVES because I don't have to interact with random people or give them an idea of what's going on in my life when I, say, buy chocolate cake and tampons). I was scanning and bagging my items efficiently until I came to a small bag on the bottom of my basket.

It was a fresh produce bag filled with about 10 small, round, green vegetables that I could not think of the name of for the life of me. I must have stared at these little bundles of deliciousness for a full minute, meanwhile scanning and bagging the rest of my groceries.

Finally it came down to just those little green things. I placed them on the scanner, scrolled through a menu of vegetables hoping to jog my memory, but nothing came. Finally I just rung them up as broccoli, hoping the price was similar, tossed them in a grocery bag, paid and left.

Two feet out of the door: BRUSSEL SPROUTS!

Damn, my memory is awful sometimes.

An Open Letter to a Douchebag

Dear Douchebag:

Yesterday when I walked into our small apartment community gym and saw you sitting on one of the weight machines, the first thing I noticed was the large and prominent Bluetooth headset sticking out of your ear. I shrugged it off thinking "no way is this guy a big enough douchebag to actually use that thing in the small gym."

I, of course, woefully underestimated your douche level.

Two minutes into my workout you answered a call on your phone, quit your workout and sat on one of the machines, talking and laughing so loudly I could hear you very clearly over my IN EAR iPod headphones that were turned up as high as I could bear. Your loud, forcibly drawn out guffaws made it impossible for me to concentrate and ruined my rhythm and workout.

I waited for your phone call to end, stopped my workout and confronted you. Maybe you remember this exchange:

Me: "Could you please not talk on your phone in here? You're really loud and it's rude."
You: "I get phone calls all the time. I can't help it, it's what I do, you know. People are always calling me."
Me: "Next time someone calls please take it outside. You're really loud and rude."
You: "I can't help it. I get a lot of phone calls."
Me: "Then workout somewhere else! If you're living here I doubt you're important enough to need to take phone calls while you're in here."

It seems by some miracle you managed to not get a phone call for the next 20 minutes, but you DID grunt like you were birthing a baby on that weight machine and consistently let the weights slam down.

Next time I see you in the gym I will speak to management and have them ban the use of cell phones in the gym. Don't think I'm even remotely kidding.

I hate you,

Jen

Random Thoughts

I love the smell of vitamins - I think it hearkans back to when my mom sold these vitamin pack things when I was a kid. The smell of a bottle of multivitamins just makes me a happy camper, despite the fact that I hardly ever remember to take them.

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If you are a server in a restaurant or cafe I frequent at least somewhat often, the quickest way to get me to not come back for awhile is to say "See you tomorrow!" Even though I know I'm fairly predictable, I don't like having it pointed out to me. My freshman year of college in Rhode Island I frequented this cute coffee/sandwich shop on my way to class. One day I forgot my debit card and the cashier said "Don't worry about it, you're in here pretty often, just pay next time." I went in the next day, paid for my drink plus the drink from the day before and didn't go back for two weeks. Hah! I showed them who's predictable!

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There is a major issue plaguing our nation that hasn't yet been addressed. It goes on in every office building across the nation and is a blight on the working landscape. I myself encounter this atrocity several times a day. No, it's not sexual harassment or even cancer causing asbestos, it's these:



Pastel and/or watercolor paintings of landscape, cottages or sailboats. They are the bane of every office existence. In their attempt to be mild and inoffensive they are the exact opposite. They offend and torture my eyes whenever I must pass one in the hallway. There are five (FIVE!!) of varying sizes in the bathroom alone (along with a hideous branch wreath with awful silk flowers poked indiscriminately around its circumference). They make me angry and I have to purposely avoid them with my eyes.

Who likes these paintings?! Who spends their days thinking up and actually creating these monstrosities?! It must be a blind person. There's no way any sane person with fully functioning eyes could find these pleasing or pretty.

Ok, ok, they do have ONE thing going for them - they're marginally better to look at than this:

Work It

I've spent the last two hours going through my music and putting together a new workout playlist because I'm bored with the old one and I came to one conclusion: I have too much flippin' music.

Two hours and I'm only to K. Ridonkulous!

Anyway, I thought I'd share my findings with you. Songs have been picked based entirely on their level of Move-It-icity. Move-It-icity is entirely subjective, so you may not find these songs as workout worthy.

Try Again - Aaliyah
If You Want Blood (You've Got It) - AC/DC
This Is Your Night - Amber
Satisfied Alibis - The Antiques
Keep The Car Running - Arcade Fire
Intervention - Arcade Fire
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys
Your Time Has Come - Audioslave
Taking Care of Business - Bachman Turner Overdrive
The General Specific - Band of Horses
Pump It - Black Eyed Peas
Closer to Free - Bodeans
Honest Mistake - The Bravery
Toxic - Britney Spears
Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand
Creepin Up The Backstairs - The Fratellis
Gone Daddy Gone - Gnarls Barkley
If - Janet Jackson
Points of Authority/99 Problems/One Step Closer - Jay-Z/Linkin Park
Let's Get Loud - Jennifer Lopez
A Praise Chorus - Jimmy Eat World
Don't Stop Believing - Journey
Rock Your Body - Justin Timberlake
Back That Thang Up - Juvenile
Golddigger - Kanye West
Touch The Sky - Kanye West
Bombs Over Baghdad - Outkast (this one was in there before I even started with A's)

I'm not sure if this list reveals anything about me other than I put up (and possibly enjoy - I won't admit more than that) with music I wouldn't normally listen to if it is either high energy pop or angry, beat-driven rap.