Ground Control to Major Tom
March 17th, 2005 by Mark
“Each morning she wakes
with a dream to describe
something lovely that bloomed
in her beautiful mind.”
–Bright Eyes – Hit the Switch
So, I had a fairly interesting week. I went to a different intramural volleyball game on Monday. This one is much more competitive than the other one that I had been going to. The bruise on my hip and the burn on my knee are proof of that. I think I held my own despite not having played that kind of volleyball since junior year of high school. Yeah – that was 6 fucking years ago.
I bumped into Jamie for the first time since that fateful day in December. We chat on the phone every few weeks or so. Her birthday just passed a few days ago and I sent her a text message wishing her a happy birthday. On the way home from work that day I was actually right behind her at a red light on sunrise highway. We had both said that we had things of the others that we wanted to exchange. I had the stuff for Jamie in my trunk. So, being just about a mile from her house, I followed her there to exchange our things. We both got out of our cars and we had this strange conversation from about 10 feet away. I can’t really remember what we spoke about because all I was thinking about was how surreal this whole scene was. I went upstairs with her to get the stuff that she had for me. I saw her mother, her aunt, and her grandmother. This was all very weird since I used to see these people every day. I was a little upset that her cat, Arthur, didn’t seem to recognize me. He lurched away when I went to pet him. Things seem to be going well for her and I’m glad. It’s hard to captivate the utter weirdness of the whole event in words. Just think of the weirdest thing that you can and then back off a little bit. That’s the level of weirdness I’m talking about.
There are many people that I want to get in touch with. Some of them I just don’t know how to get in touch with, others I could probably get in touch with, but I’m just not sure that doing so would be well received. You know, after not speaking with someone for 5 years a phone call can seem a little odd. Anyway, I figure that enough people read this thing now (all 10 of you) that it might work out well if I just list some people that I want to speak with and let the grapevine do the rest. In no particular order, and probably leaving a few people out, here is a short list of people that I would like to get in touch with: Jen Sosna, Bryan Sullivan, Rob Kruper. If you are one of these people or you know one of these people, get in touch with me.
Also, if anyone knows where I have to go to find out about local hardcore/punk shows, please drop me a line also. The long island zoo board thing seems to have dried up a few months ago with no real clue as to where to look. Any hints would be greatly appreciated. This post sucked.
Great post Mark. Hehe, postmark :)
So, you say the post sucked. As incommensurate as your entry may be, there’s an aphorism for radio DJ’s about messing something up: “If you make a mistake, correct it and keep going. If you can get by without referring to the mistake, then people will be less likely to remember or even acknowledge it.” Applying said tenet of broadcasting blunders to the passive person, listen to college radio to espy application of this practice. Surely, you’ll find bantam difference in your regard for the DJ who observes the praxis over one who contravenes.
There are alot of things I leave unsaid. I applaud your gambit to reassociate yourself with these people. I know too many with whom I’ve left the channels of communication fallow a bit longer than recoverable. If this works for you, please remind me to follow suit, though you, John, Jonathan and Russian UNKLE fans everywhere are the only people who may have even passing interest in my blog entries.
IN SOVIET RUSSIA, [object] [verb] YOU!
I tried for a good 10 minutes to find a good fit for the above Slashdot formula for Soviet Russia raping John’s fat hosting pipe, and thus, revoking my blog posting for a few days. I give up, you don’t do anything to a blog that becomes vulgar throug…
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