tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

Daniel always makes fun of me because I attract freaks. These people, strangers, come to me, and share their stories. Why? Why do they feel the need to commune with me?

Like yesterday, I got on the elevator in my building. There was on older man in there who was whistling; innocent enough. I pushed 15 for my floor. Then a lady got on, with two coffees in her hand. The whistling man certainly wasn’t going to help her, so I asked her what floor she needed. She said she was going to 15 too. So fine, I made initial contact with the woman, but I was just being polite. The whistler got off at 11, and as soon as the door shut, the lady started laughing. “I didn’t think it was possible to be this tired!” she says, I am assuming to me. So I laughed sort of quietly. She follows up with, “Look at me! I tried putting makeup on to cover it up but it didn’t work!” I laughed uncomfortably, and made some non-committal comment about it being Friday. She laughed again and shook her head. Finally we reached 15 and she wished me a good weekend. I think I said, “You too.”

WHY did this conversation take place? Did she feel a kindred spirit with me? Was the fact that I spoke to her AND we both live on the same floor enough for her to feel some sort of connection with me, enough so that she would assume I actually cared about how tired she was, OR that she looked like shit? Hell, I can’t imagine her looking much better with makeup on. For all I know she was looking normal!

So what gives? Complete strangers feel the need to share private details of their life with me. The weirdest guy in our office always comes in to talk to me. I guess because I don’t ignore him and apparently effectively feign interest, he completely opens up to me about stuff I would hestitate to share even with friends.

Do I look receptive? I can’t imagine that I do. What’s wrong with people?

I Just Don’t Think I’ll Ever Get Over You
by Colin Hay

I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place thats far away
And when I’m done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say

Don’t want you thinking I’m unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you

No longer moved to drink strong whiskey
I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived ’till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you

A face that dances and it haunts me
With laughter still ringin in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
even, even after all these years

I don’t want you thinkin that I don’t get asked to dinner
Cuz I’m here to say that I sometimes do
And even though I may seem to feel a touch of love
I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you

If I lived til I was a hundred and two
I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you

Farewell
by Rosie Thomas

Farewell so long cause
I was wrong I guess
Farewell so long cause
I was wrong I confess

I miss the way you
I miss the way you danced with me
I miss the way you
I miss the way you danced with me

So farewell my love
Cause I was wrong I guess
Farewell so long
Cause I was wrong I confess

I miss the way you
I miss the way you sing with me
I miss the way you
I miss the way you sing with me

I never asked you for
A sailboat in the yard
Or that fancy dress to wear
Or a ceiling made of stars
And all I got was just this
Broken heart from you

I’m done.

The Chaes and I went to Iota tonight to see Eric Hutchinson. He was hysterical! And the music was good too. Vocals were a bit loud and there was some trouble with his guitar amp, but his strumming technique is really cool, and he has a great voice. He did this really funny American Idol imitation, going all dramatic with the notes, but he actually sounded really good while doing it.

All night I had been trying to sneeze, but getting foiled at the last moment. So it had built up. And I have a loud sneeze anyway. So in the middle of ‘Breakdown More’ — which has set pauses in it, mind you — I finally sneezed. He stopped playing, I sneezed again, then he said “Bless you. Are you done?” I said, “Yes, I’m done” and then he continued with the song. Then at another pause he was just tapping his guitar and this couple got up to leave. He said something to them very deadpan, very sarcastically, like “You’re leaving already? Hope you had a good time. Thanks for coming. Bye!” and then continued the song. You may have had to be there, but it was funny. He reminded me a lot of Matt Nathanson in that way, who has great stories when he plays but is more animated. Eric had more of a Steven Wright sense of humour.

Matt and I were cracking up the whole time. He ended with this cover of ‘My Girl’ which then morphed into (with the same chords) some hip hop song, perhaps 50 Cent but I’m not sure, and then back into ‘My Girl’. Hearing him sing those lyrics was phenomenal.

He was selling these t-shirts, and he held it up on stage. It was green, with white letters across that said, “Eric Hutchinson is pretty good.”

I can’t remember the other funny things he said, but he gives a fantastic show. Even if you don’t like the music, he is freaking entertaining.

Makes me miss Matt Nathanson though…. sigh.

I don’t understand people who don’t floss.

I had a rocky love affair with floss, myself. I remember being about 6 and not understanding the point of it. I would brush my teeth with my dad, and he would floss every night, so I knew there was something important about it. But it looked like a real pain in the ass. However, I wanted to be like him, so I flossed some nights. That consisted of me sawing the floss between two of my teeth at a time, once on top, once on bottom, and asking my dad if I was done and could stop. Without even looking at me he’d say yes. And flossing was over. Even then I remember thinking that if he did all his teeth, I should do all mine; but since he didn’t give a damn, I was off scot free, which was fine with me. So it wasn’t so bad after all, the way my dad let me do it. Which I suppose is why I never hated it as much as other kids did, like my brother.

In later years though, and perhaps this is because of my OCD, I could not stand not flossing. And I had to do it after I brushed, because the brush left my gums so tingly that the only way I could kill that sensation was to floss. I’m sure the tingle was all in my mind, but the compulsion to floss was there. I would go absolutely crazy until the last tooth was flossed.

I eventually learned that you are supposed to floss before you brush, to loosen the plaque and crap so the brush can brush it away. This troubled me deeply. Would I have to floss before, to loosen the crap, and after to kill the tingle? I finally overcame my OCD enough to floss only before, and eventually the tingle sensation died away. But I still have to floss every night.

Unless of course, I’m drunk, in which case a quick brushing will do.

But anyway, I just don’t get people who don’t floss. Don’t your teeth just feel so dirty and disgusting? The plaque and filth is just building and building up between your teeth. Can’t people see it when they look at you? I always have to brush in the morning if I don’t floss the night before — going weeks and months without flossing would be torture to me. So what gives?

God, I miss Furious.

We used to laugh all day long at work. Something would set her off, and hearing her laugh would just make me laugh louder. I remember the time the Penguin walked all the way down to our office from the other end of the hallway and asked us to shut our door because we were being so loud. What the hell she had to concentrate on for the ‘work’ she did, I’ll never know.

Even though we worked crazy hours, that was the best time I’ve ever had at work. I would give anything to work with her again.

Damn public sector.