Did I Beckon His Voice?

And of course, last night I got a phone call… a phone call that I’d been waiting for, for one full year. My first love. A very strong love, but not love how I imagined. A love where I thought he knew me better than anyone in the world. Sometimes I think he still does.

I’ve referred to him as Mr. Lost His Mind Christian, but that was when I was very bitter at his sudden change in religious beliefs. He hasn’t lost his mind. In fact, it’s a very good thing for him. He struggled with sadness much more intensely and for far longer than I.

Last week, my friend BFF (my new roommie!) told me about a CD a guy made her before she went on a trip. The CD was of course a message to her. After hearing this, I decided to pull out a CD that Mr. Lost His Mind Christian had made for me before I left for the Peace Corps. A message to me.

The songs were all about hurting him because I had left… how I took his heart and what was he supposed to do now.I didn’t cry when I listened to it. Single tears slowly trickled from the corners of my eyes, but it wasn’t crying.

He wasn’t happy that I’d left, but I had to… I was young. I needed to explore and save the world. But he thought our love would make me stay. And because I left… because I decided to become that “whole” “fulfilled” and “experienced” woman… because I left, I lost him forever.

Sure he came to visit me in Ukraine and things were wonderful… but that snowy evening in Kiev, I stood on the train platform. I could see my breath. I stood by his train window. He opened it and reached out. I remember the look on his face. Although he was going back to friends, people all around him, and I was going back to my village where I knew no one, we both knew that we’d feel so alone. The train began to move. He held his hand out until I couldn’t see him anymore. (yes, completely fucking cheesey, but I will always feel cold on my nose from that moment)

Things were never the same after that. I returned, and we tried to make it work, but the things he did while I was away caused irreparable damage.

Maybe I left though because I knew it wasn’t quite right. I did always feel like he loved me more. Is it possible though for two people to love one another equally? Both times I was in love, I knew they loved me more. Perhaps that sounds callous, but I knew they loved me more because they could never live up to what I thought and still think love should be like. They loved me more because they were realistic. I had expectations of them that they could never fulfill.

For those of you who know Mr. Lost His Mind Christian, he is now married, and his wife is pregnant. He hopes to have several children.


TO ADDRESS COMMENTS ON MY LAST POST:

First off, thank you, beautiful things were said… I am a very independent woman. Like I mentioned, I engage myself with things and people that I love. I am extremely pleased with the person that I am. I am very proud of myself in so many ways. I am happy with the convictions by which I live. I am happy with how I treat others. I am happy of my work ethic. I am happy with the chances I’ve taken, the will that I have, the love in which my heart is capable. I am happy that I’m doing the best I can. I’m certainly not unscathed by depression, but I fight it. I’m committed to fighting it. I don’t need a partner to be happy… I need a partner to complete me. Does that make sense?

Ah, another comment just came in... I don't know if it's a matter of our day and age or what it is, but I not so secretly believe in true love. I want to. I have to. But maybe you're right, maybe it just doesn't exist. It's like Miracle on 34th Street where in a court of law they're trying to prove the existence of Santa. I'm trying to prove the existence of true love.

CHEESEY LOVE QUOTES - YES, YOU CAN GAG!!!

"I love her and that's the beginning of everything." --F. Scott Fitzgerald (this gives me the fucking chills, in a good way)

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” -- Rumi

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies." --Aristotle (cliched, but this sums up the ridiculous romantic idea I have of love)

"So dear I love him that with him, All deaths I could endure. Without him, live no life." -- William Shakespeare (love, death, life, pain, love, the cure)

The Truth About Love

I love love. My entire life I’ve been in love with it. Love that would transcend the mundane. That in your dark room, with him under your covers, unclothed, bodies clinging together, foreheads touching everything would make sense. That those nights of you staring out your window wondering why you’re here and feeling some intense longing for something… you’d finally know that something. His soul was that something.

Yes, where you say, 'finally here you are. I’ve been waiting for you.' And all the pain your mind and heart have caused you is suddenly okay. Everything’s okay.

The kind of love Edgar Alan Poe wrote about…

“And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me…
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee…”

Annabel Lee, Edgar Alan Poe

And sure you grow older and come up with a million reasons why you haven’t found this yet… that oh right, we need to be complete, whole on our own, have experienced the world and done this and that… and become amazing or whatever shit… But really, who am I kidding? I can never feel complete unless I have it.

It's like Salieri in the film, Amadeus... he was born for such a passion, such an innate longing for music, yet god didn't give him the means to satisfy his hunger... instead he was cursed with incarnation of this hunger... the knowledge that he'll starve his entire life.

And sure, I can be happy. I can find things I enjoy and try to live a life of integrity. I can love my family and my friends… but, I know I can’t be whole. I know that at the end of my time here, if I never found him, my heart would be broken.

This is the truth. This is the truth coming from some girl who always wanted to rid herself of such a grim malady… a girl who doesn’t need anyone. Little Miss Independent.

But of course, we live and learn. How fucking lame! Now I’ve learned that apparently this kind of love doesn’t exist. And yes, this is part of the reason I’ll probably never have a relationship because it will never be this.

What brought on this post… Friday night, a friend of mine told me he was getting a divorce. I thought he had the perfect marriage. His marriage was counted on my one hand when I thought of relationships that I’d love to have. How many people do I know who are in amazing relationships?! Where they can describe their significant as “amazing”? That they couldn’t live without him or her? That this is what they always thought love would be like?

Must think.

So, there is no Santa?



PS - Yes, I know people have real problems, and my woes are silly... this is just in my head sometimes. Ridiculous head. Sometimes.

Funny Coincidence

Anyone remember this post from a couple of weeks ago http://lilmisscurious.blogspot.com/2007/01/it-just-doesnt-matter.html ???

So, I wrote about this guy I switched beers with at the bar (his initiation)... I'd asked him to find me later... he said he would... he didn't... blah - blah - blah.

I woke up the next morning hoping I hadn't accosted the guy... and a little bummed he hadn't found me... we'd had a nice chat... all at his initiation.

It didn't matter whether or not I had accosted him because I'd probably never run into him again.

But then... I got this MySpace request from a band... I always end up taking a look and a listen. The lead singer looked so much like that guy - let's call him "Citrus Fruit" since he said he was allergic?!?

I decided to send him a message to see if it was indeed him.

Today I got a reply. It certainly was him. I emailed him back asked who he'd gone to see... we'll see if he replies.

But nonetheless, just kind of a funny coincidence.

A Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Because the prospect of moving abroad was still looming in the background, I put the housing situation on the back-burner. Once that option was eliminated, I had to scramble to save my current apartment. Last week I spent my spare computer time answering emails of potential roommates (hence, the lack of blogging). Yes, my rent is going up. Yes, I have to reapply to get my place since my current roommie is the only one on the lease. But no, I wouldn’t or don’t have to move, again!

Anyway, a good friend of mine, who I often refer to as BFF (Best Friend Forever) got back from dancing in Brazil… and said, “Miss Curious, hook a BFF up as your roommie!” So – So – So, now my BFF and I (assuming our application is accepted, oh fuck!) are going to be living together!!! This means our apartment will be pimped out in retro-funk shabby-chic style!!! This also means that it will be both of our HOME. It’s not her moving into MY place or me moving into someone else’s place. It will be OUR HOME. This makes me fucking happy as fuck!!! Let’s all cross our fingers that we actually get the frickin place!!!

Let’s talk about one of my favorite obsessions… Obsession. Friday night I went out w/ a colleague. I say colleague because she doesn’t work in my office… we do business together… over the phone. She had the idea of going to sushi happy hour, but when we got there it was closed, closed, what the fuck?!?! Anyway, she suggested going to the Mission. And going where? Surprise, Cheers.

Obsession was working as always. We chatted for a bit. After a couple of drinks, I asked about that ex-girlfriend who was supposed to be moving out of his place.

“Obsession… so how’s that ex-girlfriend of yours?”

He smirks and doesn’t answer.

“You’re not broken up are you?”

“I’m working on it. She just hasn’t moved out yet.”

And although, he and I have been through this silly song and dance forever… and I’ve feasted off of his crumbs and felt like a fool again and again… and know that whatever he says is playful banter… harmless flirting… and nothing would ever happen again… for some reason, I found myself totally PISSED. Not sad… just totally – oddly – surprisingly PISSED.

I don’t know what came over me… I know that we’re merely flirty friends at the bar, like I said… I know all of this… I know he doesn’t like me that way… but for some reason, I just couldn’t even look at him.

I ignored him for about an hour. I asked the other bartenders for my drinks and food. I didn’t care if I’d be paying for everything. I was just so pissed. If he made us back-up drinks before we finished, I didn’t even acknowledge it.

He noted… and loud and firmly said, “Miss Curious are you doing okay?”

“Fine.”

After pouting for a significant amount of time, I got over it, and we started chatting again… chatting about me wanting him to drunk-dial me on his birthday (this weekend)… and him telling me he’d open his bar at 6 am for me to start drinking then on my birthday (in July)… him telling me he wouldn’t have a girlfriend then. Him telling me he wanted to call me last week to go see a movie… WHATEVER. Why does it even matter?!?!?! Oh my god --- so fucking silly!!! Silly – Silly – Silly. I’M SO FUCKING DUMB!!!

At the end of the evening, I said, “Obsession, I’m going to meet you at the side of the bar, and we’re going to hug good-bye.”

“Yes we are.”

I walk over. Look him in the eyes, smile, and say “Obsession, I HATE YOU.”

He smiles, “I HATE YOU TOO MISS CURIOUS.”

We embrace. Tightly. He kisses me on the cheek.

And like always, I walk out… with the usual bittersweet mood accompanying me… Ah, until the next silly flirtation that I think way more than should be thought about.

I attribute this particularly emotional reaction to the fact that there is currently NO ONE else to think about.

The night doesn’t end there. My colleague wants to go to her house and change her shirt before we move on to the next spot. And where oh where does she live?!?!?! She lives right next door to 5th Paragraph. Right next door --- as in the same complex --- as in can see inside his living room from her stairway --- as in ‘that’s the window I was hooking up in’ --- as in she’s inviting him to her party next month (he most likely won’t go, but still)… I DIDN’T KNOCK ON THE DOOR OR ANYTHING, BUT I JUST THOUGHT, WOW, SMALL WORLD.

I've Been Busy... Will Post Soon! :-)

More Important Stuff

Let’s move onto more important things than my weekly Boo-Hoo’s. Last night I saw Children of Men, which was, hmm, well, intense. The most important aspect of the film was its star, Clive Owen. Clive is one of my top 5 Hollywood Boyfriends.

HERE’S THE LIST:

ACTORS (In Order) –

1. Ralph Fiennes
2. Jake Gyllenhal
3. Clive Owen
4. Ryan Reynolds
5. Ryan Gosling


MUSICIANS –

1. Trent Reznor, Nine Inch Nails
2. Diego Garcia, Elefant
3. Chris Sachtleben, Augustana (Lead Guitarist, who’s like 12)
4. Ben Bridwell, Band of Horses
5. Tim Kasher, Cursive



FAVORITE SONGS OF THE WEEK:

For Real, Okkervil River

This is the kind of song you’d blast while riding in the passenger seat after a long evening of drinking. You’re not drunk, but you can feel the effects of your vodka soda’s with extra lemon. Your body is tired. There are four of you. No one’s speaking. The music is turned up loudly, and everyone’s staring out his or her windows. The lead singer’s voice is intoxicating. The sounds swiftly swing from mellifluous melodies to a melee of instruments and a pained voice.

Robbers, Cold War Kids

You’re getting ready to go to some “adult” party. Your attire befits the occasion… sleek black clothing. Your rollers are still in your hair. Lights are dimmed. Scented candles are lit. You’re picking out your earrings. Your glass of red wine follows you around your apartment. You don’t have shoes on. You don’t have slippers on. Your feet are protected by your black opaque knee highs, and you glide across your hardwood floors. Your speakers blast Robbers, and you hum as you bop around putting the final touches on your outfit and fill your "adult" purse with your Clinique Vintage Wine lipstick... you toss your keys in... they jingle just a bit, the sound pleases you... La Da Da Da Da Da.


TODAY:

It's Roughly 40 degrees here in San Francisco. Naturally, the heat is broken in our office. I'm wearing argyle fingerless gloves, a pale blue J Crew sweater with princess shoulders, a black wool coat, a stripped green on green My Morning Jacket Beanie, black pants, beat-up black Converse with black laces, and blue socks with dogs on them (!?!?! my mom gave them to me, and I haven't done laundry).

Wish I were here... under my covers. Watching my netflix, Layer Cake or the The Trials of Henry Kissinger Documentary or Lady in the Water.

So Over Myself, Really

I suppose I’m in one of those, “I’m so over life,” moods. I know I have so many wonderful things in my life… and yes, I want to kick myself in the ass over half the time for being unappreciative or hurt or simply ridiculous… but sometimes, the grind just gets ya’ down… sometimes I’m just like – what’s the fucking point – I’m so over this. Sometimes things happen that just don’t need to… something as simple as dropping half your cream cheese covered bagel on the ground… or stabbing your gums with your toothbrush… when you’re already down for real reasons, can’t everything else just go okay?

And you wake up day after day. Wish you could sleep-in just a tad bit longer… take your shower… wash your hair, loofah your body with some body gel that smelled okay, and condition your hair… all in the same order day after day.

And you’re at this job that you didn’t even know existed 10 years ago… wishing someone hadn’t just pushed 40 copies and forgot to clear it… and listening to someone tell you what to do 8 hours a day, 5 days a week… and just getting a phone call from your mom who’s planning a family vacation to Nicaragua that you can’t go to because you used your vacation days already… and then you hate yourself because you know you should be thankful to even have a family who takes you on vacations or to just have a family at all.

Here you sit in front of your computer wondering why your keyboard has silver glitter on it… thankful that it looks kinda’ nice… your eyes are red… you can barely see the outside from your cubicle, but you see that it’s windy, and the sun comes out off and on…

You feel your fingertips… realize you’re alive, and you’re not sure why. You wish you knew. You wish you could be capable of understanding. You wish you weren’t perpetually aware of your existence. Wish you didn’t constantly question everything and everyone. Wish you didn’t have such high expectations of people or the world or purpose or yourself. Wish you could just string together all those little things to make you feel full.

Wish you weren’t the type of person who would even write this in her blog.


Just a quote I’ve used before… not particularly relevant, but I think of it in this mood:

“… and nothing was simple there, not even poverty nor sudden money, nor the moonlight nor right nor wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight."

A Moveable Feast, Ernest Hemingway

It Just Doesn't Matter

I never really know how I completely miss that point between buzzed and wasted... you know that place where you're supposed to stop. It seems like everyone else in the world knows where that point is, but I on the other hand, am still a bit lost. I must admit, however, that 2006 has been the best year as far as realizing that point, but of course, Friday night, reason was nowhere to be found.

Right after work, I went to a friend’s house for some spaghetti. She asked me to help her drink a bottle of white wine since she’s not really a fan. Well, who am I to deny a friend in need? And, I love white.

Then, we met up with some more folks at a bar for happy hour. Our idea was to drink as many cheap drinks as we could before heading to Café Du Nord since drinks there would be mucho expensive. But then, my judgment was completely impaired by the time we got there, and I kept drinking.

While the opening bands were on, I noticed my latest obsession Rykarda Parasol standing at the bar. Since I’ve never been a shy one, I went right over and initiated conversation… and bought her a drink. She didn't seem to be trying to get out of the conversation… she welcomed it. I was actually pretty surprised, pleasantly surprised. She’s this knock-out blond, talented woman, who told me she’s really a bitch, but I found her to be rather amiable… unpretentious. Let’s be honest here, women aren’t very nice to one another sometimes. I could expect her to be charmed by some man and want to talk for a while to him… so why was she so nice to me? I then assumed she must be a lesbian. How very awful of me to think. Oh well. Anyway, I was completely stoked.

Wasted swiftly approached. Some more friends from the previous bar decided to meet up with us. One of the guys beelined for me telling me that another friend of ours wasn't being allowed in since too was completely bbliterated... he begged me to go upstairs and flirt with the doorman to let him in... oddly, I had enough reason in my head to think:

Shit. Can I even make it up the stairs? Shit. If I go up there trying to get some drunk dude in, will they then realize how I'm probably more wasted than he, and then they'll kick me out? Shit. These are my friends... Miss Curious, get it together - get it together.

I focused on the stairs as best I could. When I got to the top, our friend had left. I decided not to mumble a word to the doorman and walked cautiously back downstairs to continue getting wasted upon wasted.

Later in the evening, I was onto my last drink. As I was standing in line, I noticed these two guys talking… I was being a little pushy to get myself to the bar, and they were nonchalant and entertained by one another… I kinda’ kept giving them the eye like, “hey, get in their boys… I’m nice enough to let you order first even though I’m closer… work it out.” But they were too slow on the draw, and I ordered. One of the guys noticed, and I noticed he noticed.

“I’m sorry… you were just chatting, and I was standing there needing one itty bitty drink.”

“Yeah, I noticed, but then I realized I was talking and not getting myself in there.”

“I don’t want to be that asshole who doesn’t care if others were there first… I was genuinely trying to give you guys the push to order… but in your hesitation, the bartender asked me, and I went for it.”

His friend bought his beer. Hefeweizen with lemon. Pulling the lemon off the side of the glass, he said, “my friend should know that I’m allergic to citrus fruits.”

“No way… really?!?”

“Yup.”

We keep chatting. He mumbles something to his friend, and he walks away. More citrus fruit chat.

I then offer to switch my Racer 5 for his Hefeweizen. He accepted my offer, and we continued chatting.

One of my friends comes up… wondering where I’d been (oops, I always disappear)… I introduce her.

We then realize that we don’t know one another’s names… I forget his… what a fucking surprise.

We toasted. I forget what we toasted to… again, what a fucking surprise.

And then I was all stupid… like, “find me later.”

He replied, “I will find you later.”

He didn’t find me later.

And he was handsome… I think… handsome in the rough around the edges way… and he was so tall… My neck hurt from looking up. I LOVE tall. I mean, I’ll do short, but I LOVE TALL.

So anyway, I enjoyed talking with him… but I felt silly the next day. Like that silly girl that the next day he’ll probably be like, “wow that girl was drunk, and she wanted me to find her later?!”


But then, it doesn’t matter.



Here's a picture just for picture's sake (since I'm word after word after word, bleh... nothin' to look at)... Miss Curious in London, Trafalgar Square (beginning of December)

Couldn't Be More Random

Every time I go home, my mom and sister are always into something new. Right now, my mom’s going through a Diet Dr Pepper phase. Last time I was home, she was in the Sierra Mist phase. She’s also uber into Judge Judy, oh my god. I hope that phase passes soon because I’m tired of going home and having TiVo filled with Judge Judy episodes. My sister on the other hand is into slightly more random things. She went through a Cumin phase. I mean who gets totally into Cumin? Then she did the Garlic thing for a while… and then that disgusting Fat Free Jalapeno Cheese. Weird.

But then, I have my “things” too. Not as random as my sister, but still a phase where it’s all I want… a phase where I completely exhaust whatever it is. Right now, I’m into carrots, PowerAde, brown rice, and applesauce… and I just can’t get enough of pepper. Okay, maybe a little random.

Songs I’m into:

1. Hang Me Up to Dry – Cold War Kids (um, love love love)
2. Night On Red River – Rykarda Parasol (going to see her tonight at Café Du Nord, yeay!)
3. And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going – Jennifer Hudson, Dream Girls (totally embarrassing, but I fucking love it)
4. Lost In Time – Stellastarr (Bottom of the Hill, Feb 10th)
6. The Recluse – Cursive

Um, BIG NEWS (to me at least):

My ex-wife (ex-gay male best friend) Midge is moving back to San Francisco from New York City, um, THIS WEEKEND!!! HOLY SHIT!!! He’ll be staying at my casa for a week starting Sunday night. We seem to have resolved our differences.

Um, LAME:

Last night I had a dream… okay fine, it wasn’t a dream… it was more of a fantasy I played in my head because I have no one else to think about. Like I always say, we go back to the last person we were with or perhaps some unrequited Obsession when we have ZERO prospects. So, I thought about Obsession. I thought about saying, “C’mon, let’s end this charade… we belong together.” But then, of course, he’d never think we belong together… he never thinks of me at all. This is a fantasy after all.

And then, totally lame… 5th Paragraph drifted into my head. He had such potential. Good, really good, at “goin’ down.” Whew. Hot. Super smart. Well, maybe too smart… or maybe just smart in the ways that I’m not… like science. And I had a lot fun with him… we did fun things. He was always up for doing things. But anyway. I apparently wasn’t right for him… and perhaps, I didn’t like that his social skills weren’t as perfect as my own (hahaha! Okay, I say the wrong thing a lot… but people love them some Miss Curious, haha!)… and then, he was a bit self-absorbed and there can be only one of those in a relationship, and that’s me bitches!!! And then, I’m kicking myself because that was so long ago, and he’s probably already forgotten my name… if we ran into each other on the street, he’d probably say, “I know I know you, but I just can’t place how.” Whatever. LAME.

Um HOUSING… LIVING IN GENERAL:

So, this gets a bit tough because the prospect of moving abroad (I won’t disclose details because it could totally not happen, and I don’t know) is still completely up in the air, and I won’t know for a few more weeks, but in a few more weeks I’ll have to be moved out of my house… but then, I could always sign the year lease now and find a new roommate… my rent would certainly go up, fine… and that’d be my decision, staying in San Francisco.

OR, I am going to look at a room for rent, which is in a good location (Panhandle) – with uber cheap rent… cheaper than my current rent controlled… but I’d have 2 roommates. OR, I could stuff my stuff in storage, couch hop and look for a 2 bedroom to share with Midge. This is a good option, but it will be more expensive than staying at my place and moving into some random room somewhere.

Why oh why is my housing situation always shit? Of course, in the grand scheme of things it’s a small woe… but still.

Some Top Shit of 2006

Quick 'A Bit Bitter' Update:

- The Englishman emailed me and apologized... He's just really-really young... very-very naive... he means well... but he has A LOT to learn... I'm not going to email him back... He can needs to go his merry way and figure shit out.
- 4 Hours: he did MySpace message me back... said a, "it was fun... that's what friends are for" kinda' thing. I was pleased. I have no intention of emailing back.
- Ultimately, the boyz have been wrapped up... starting fresh in 2007

Top 10 Best Shows in 2006

1. Medeski, Martin, & Wood – The Fillmore
2. Radiohead – The Greek Theater, Berkeley
3. Nine Inch Nails – Shoreline Amphitheater
4. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – The Fillmore
5. The Secret Machines – The Grand on Van Ness
6. My Morning Jacket – The Fillmore
7. The Coup – The Independent
8. Pete Yorn – The Great American
9. The Editors – The Fillmore
10. Aesop Rock – The Independent


Top 10 Songs I Overplayed in 2006 (doesn’t mean that’s when they came out)

1. Night on Red River – Rykarda Parasol
2. Driftwood: A Fairy Tale – Cursive
3. Love Burns – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
4. Gold Lion – The Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs
5. Open Arms – The Editors
6. Wake Up – The Walkmen
7. Caught A Lite Sneeze – Tori Amos, Live in Boston
8. Set Fire To The Third Bar – Snow Patrol with Martha Wainwright
9. Sirens – Elefant
10. Crown of Love – The Arcade Fire


The Hook-Ups of 2006 (hook-up doesn’t always mean sex, could mean just kissing)
--- AND OH MY GOD, LOOK WHERE I MET THEM ---

1. Jesus (MySpace)
2. King Kong (MySpace)
3. 5th Paragraph (Stoned on Craigslist)
4. Nice Guy (Work)
5. The Englishman (Best Friend’s Boyfriend’s Brother)
6. 4 Hours (Work in College)
7. 22-23 Year Old (Halloween)

Top 10 Best Moments of 2006 (concert can only be included if it was in addition to something else, you’ll see – in no particular order)

1. Black Rebel / Elefant Show at the Fillmore, Lead Singer of Elefant Kissed Me on the Cheek
2. Step-Dad Visiting in March, dinners and hiking and movies
3. Break Dancing Night at the ‘Fer (bar in Castro)
4. Posting Stoned on Craigslist
5. My Birthday
6. Last Day In Zihuatenejo, Mexico… In the pool alone…mesmerized by the ocean waves
7. Playing Drinking Games w/ My Lil’ Bro in Massachusetts
8. Getting Stoned and Watching Peep Show with Carine Dion in London
9. Snow Patrol at The Great American on March 20th – My FIRST Show by MYSELF (the first of what is now many)… and their last show before they got HUGE, bleh
10. Halloween Night!!! Booze, BFF, Banter, and Boyzzzz (little ones)

Top 10 Worst Times of 2006

1. Psycho Cracked-Out Neighbor who Threatened to Kill Me with His Gun
2. Midge Moving to New York
3. Getting Locked Out of my House, One Lonely Night
4. The Movers, Stoner and Sixty Year Old who Farted in my Face
5. Getting Dissed a Couple of Times by 5th Paragraph
6.Grandpa Breaking His Hip Before our Trip to Celebrate Him and Grandma
7. Arguing with my Older Sister in SF, Mexico, and Massachusetts
8. Being Hung-Over for Bay to Breakers, the MUNI Ride Post-Run
9. Having a 2nd Cat in a Small Apartment, Amazing Since it’s Been GonzoGaining a Hundred
10. Pounds Over the Last 2 Months of Vacation