Wednesday, Sept. 08, 2004
My favorite whine is merlot, posted at 11:06 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com I've been listening to a ton of old Ray Charles lately. The man had soul to spare. There's one song that I've been listening to over and over again. It's track 11 on his "Best of the Atlantic Years," I suppose I could figure out the title but it's not important. In the song, his voice takes on a sort of gutteral quality, and the rhythm of the music is a quick start-stop march that has an intoxicating quality that's easy to get lost in. Ray has a line in the song that goes something like, "I'm not used to being so lonely, and it's all because of you," and that's the line that grabs me every time, usually when I'm driving around late at night like today, as I go to the BSSC meeting in Canton alone, and then across town again to White Marsh to go to Bally's alone, and then I work out at Bally's for an hour and a half alone, and then I go to Giant at 9:30 pm and plod around the store alone. The store is so empty that when I leave my cart in front of the register line for a little bit while I run back to the hairstyle aisle to get the cheapest mousse they have, a worker decides that someone must have left the cart there permanently and starts putting my groceries away. I lay into her a little bit, punishing her for my mood, which has gone from pretty damn good at the gym to melancholy as I push around a squeaky grocery cart around an empty grocery store on a Wednesday night at 10pm and struggle over what kind of hair mousse to buy, when I don't even like hair mousse but I figure I should put some sort of gunk up there on top of my head. And, by the way, I was alone. I kept imagining myself as a star of some reality TV show, a comedy where we all roote for the sad sack loser/hero/Charlie Brown type, as I reach for the mousse and a row of gel falls, or I have to hold up the stuff so close to my eyes because they don't work so good late at night, and I realize I've picked up a black hair care product instead of guy mousse.I wonder if I'm too used to being alone. Unlike Ray. I wonder if I have gotten myself into too deep of a rut to escape. I feel the pull of the school year already on my bones. I love it. I love teaching so much. The kids keep me breathing and healthy and I get goosebumps thinking about my job. But that's not enough, and I worry that it has become so with me, that I've become too used to having an empty house to come home to and a full social schedule but rarely moments when I feel like a person really "gets" me. My professional life is superb. My personal life, not so much.
I've removed all pictures of myself from this site. I'm hoping it prompts me to discuss what I'm feeling more openly. (I also seem to have gotten a burst of new professionalism in my 4th year of teaching. There's just too much risk associated with keeping an online journal, and no reason to increase the risk by putting pics of myself on there, even if I keep my name and location of where I work anonymous. I still could probably be found out pretty easily, perhaps.) With two dates and an unrelated (and comically disappointing) hookup this past month, maybe things are turning around. But I don't want to get caught up in a cycle where I keep encircling my own life and its happiness and fulfillment with a key, looking for the lock but unable to find it because it's is moving too quickly and my hand is jiggling and shivering and can barely stay steady.
I don't understand why I don't just pick up the phone and ask her out. She's attractive and available and smart and political and musical. But I fear rejection far too much. I unfortunately became friends with her before I thought to ask her out, which is always a huge mistake for me but it's the only thing that ever seems to happen. I'm a friend type, little else. And then I can't ever read signals. Is she deciding not to play wiffleball on my team because she's sick of me and doesn't want me to get any ideas? "I think I have to bow out on this one...I'll come by for some games to cheer y'all on though. I feel a little bit overcommitted this fall with teaching, work, softball, liberty, etc..etc... hope you are still able to field a team of 'ballers." What hidden message am I seeing there? What did I say to her when I was drunk out of my gourd on my birthday?
Oh well. Things are good. But they're not good enough, I guess.
***
On a side note, I have no idea how Thirsty Dog makes any money at all on their Hearts Afire Palm salad. Just now at Giant, I paid $4.99 for hearts of palm, $4.99 for fresh mozzarella, $4 for fresh greens, and $2 for dressing. I didn't buy fresh basil (they were out of it) or tomatoes (my garden yield is still here). I have no idea how they can get away with charging $6.50.
I've gotten the married Polish girl hooked, by the way. She talked tonight about blueberry ale and Hearts Afire salad, and we're going out again to get some more. Oh, what a tangled web I weave.