I got all sentimental this morning because English Premier League soccer started this weekend. I mean, yeah, I was happy to have soccer on again, but that wasn't it. In fact, yesterday when I was drinking a pot of coffee and studying control structures in PL/SQL, something just felt funny. It was that feeling when you wake up in the middle of the night and you look into your closet and swear to fuck that you see someone in there, but you know if you ignore it that it will go away. Plus, you are just too fuckin' tired to deal with a dude in a jumpsuit in your closet if there really is someone in there.
Oh, so, I got up this morning and was still feeling a little goofy and for some reason I put Tegan & Sara on my iPod for my morning bike ride to work. Mornings are mellow and way homes are metal. It's the rules. About half way to work, it hit me that this was the band that I totally associated with the Cat Lady and the reason I got a little goofy on Saturday morning was because last year on the opening day of soccer season we had got into it after a night of heavy boozing, obnoxious public displays of affection, some other stuff and then a huge argument until 4:00 in the morning when I refused to sleep in the same bed with her and hit the couch for the night. So, because of that, I was awake to watch Arsenal play at 4:45 AM while she slept. I think she eventually came out and got me or slid on to the couch to watch it with me and that was like after a week of knowing each other. She was good like that.
We were doomed and we both knew it, but there still was a lot of something there. I can't describe it nor bottle it to sell to others, but it was fun for the brief amount of time that it lasted, no matter how emotionally destructive it turned out to be. From stumbling down the street laughing at the expense of others to throwing popsicles into the groceries to somehow legitimize buying vodka at 9:00 in the morning to having some kind of Sid & Nancy moment when I thought she had stopped breathing one night and became unresponsive. It wasn't all good, but I'm glad I did it.
So, the Tegan and Sara thing. She really liked that band and when you broke down all of the music that she liked, it was all sad and frustrated and scared. In retrospect, it speaks volumes and also most of it was pretty decent music. It's one of those things, though, how music imprints your brain and associates it with moments of your life.
You have to be careful about who you share your favorite music with because there is a chance that they will stomp on you or wrong you and then you will forever associate that music with them. I had to quit Steely Dan for three years because of a situation like that and you will probably never EVAR catch me listening to Painted From Memory by Bacharach/Costello. That's some heavy shit on that record and I loved it, but it's too difficult to listen to anymore without tying it to a lot of less than awesome memories. I'll be honest, though. I pulled the sheet music out for the album and was playing a little bit of it on the guit-box the other night. It's hard to deny.
So, anyway, I got a little sentimental and then started thinking about those people that stick with you. It's not like in a pining way. It's more of a blurry memory shoved into the back of your head. Or, maybe a GI Joe guy that's been partially microwaved, covered in dirt and jammed in a green tackle box in your parent's garage, but you remember it like you were playing with it in the front yard just yesterday. Some things stick and the music that you were listening to at the time will push that shit right up to the surface before you know it. I could actually probably pull ten CDs out of my collection that I could pinpoint a person or a memory that it represents.
Now, while this was a nice exercise and I really wish the Cat Lady the best of luck in all her endeavors, this morning's sentimentality exercise will be put back into remission. She was pretty awesome in many aspects and she was the cutest thing in the world, though. I believe that it is time to listen to The New Pornographers first record and do jumping jacks while I smile like I'm intellectually disabled.
Work e-mail exchange of the day:
[Guy had just pressed extract twice instead of pressing extract and export like he had done for at least the five years I have been here. I told him that if he hit it twice it would act in a particular way so it was working fine and he just kinda blew it. This was his response]
Yes it's too bad we can't give the buttons names that are a little more different, like Make File and Send file.
Because Extract and Export are too much alike? Actually in Make File and Send File, there are more of the same letters than in Export and Extract. I wonder if the guy has ever taken a donut on a walk because dog and donut are so similar? Again, amazed that the world is still spinning with these fucktards stuck to it.
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