Ten Years

Ten years ago today we met. I already wrote about that day here, but ended that post with my date taking a cab back home.

I'll never forget, the next day, seeing Honey sitting outside the tube station waiting for me (even though I was early). We sat outside a bar, across the street from the Dublin Castle and then we went to see Swingers. That's our movie. We continued walking in Camden for a while and I asked her if she wanted to come over and watch TV. I swear that's what I meant, too. I just figured she was fun and it would be fun to watch King of the Hill with her.

We then listened to music and didn't talk much. Then "Broken Heart" started playing and Honey started to cry. And I said, "I'm going to regret this," and I kissed her.

I've tried to analyze this moment for the last ten years, and historians will continue my unfinished work, but I'm still not sure why I said that or what made me kiss her, just like she's not sure why she started to cry.

Did my kiss have anything to do with subconscious male chauvinism? Did I think she wanted me to kiss her because of some kind of male fantasy of a weak female saved by her superhero man? Did her tears make me feel stronger? Was my kiss meant to save my princess? That bastard Jung made me think about that. I read Man and his Symbols and realized maybe I didn't kiss her because I was a sensitive man but because I was an arrogant pig like the rest of them.

But I can leave all of that for the historians. Whether she cried because the idea of going back alone to America was breaking her heart or because on King of the Hill Bobby was forced to smoke an entire carton of cigarettes doesn't matter today. And whether I kissed her because I wanted to save her or because I wanted her to save me is also meaningless, after all. Because now, ten years later, the love of my life is smarter, funnier, and more beautiful than ever, and I've had the best ten years of my life, and our best days together are yet to come.

And she's pregnant, too, which is really cool. And more than likely, I'm the father.

Happy Birthday, Honey

It was my American girl's birthday today. I got her some presents, nothing too crazy. It's a joint account, after all. Girlie stuff, like bracelets and earrings and a necklace and a thing people with hair use. She needs to feel like her normal self again, now that people start treating her like a would be mother and all that. She's used to men looking at her boobs but now they all stare at her belly, which must feel strange and foreign. I think.

Then I got her some stuff from her favorite candle-and-soap-and-lip-gloss-and-other-stuff shop. This earned me a few extra points because that place has always been a bit too much for me, too scenty and candle-y and perfect. She asked me later that night how I was doing there so I told her I made a joke.

--"Oh no, what did you say?"
--"The saleswoman was trying to help me but I couldn't find anything, so she looked at some cookbooks and asked if my wife liked to cook, and I told her, 'I don't know, she hasn't tried it yet.'"
--"Why did you say that? I cook."
--"Yes. But I couldn't miss a joke opportunity like that, right?"
--"I guess not."

So I met her at work and we walked to Camden Yards in time for the Cal Ripken Jr. bobblehead giveaway. And the Orioles won, which makes the day even better.

So, happy birthday, Honey. I know you don't read this because you think it's weird that I write my thoughts instead of saying them, but just in case you happen to read this, know that when you're asleep I'm downstairs thinking about you, and know that you're more beautiful and sexy than ever and that I appreciate you and respect you if you cook or if you don't cook and if you like my jokes or if you like me in spite of them, and I hope you had a good birthday and my only true wish in this world is to be there with you next year to celebrate another one.

Anyway, before I ruin the mood with the next video, just a happy birthday to my niece and a happy birthday to Shelli. And of course, congratulations to Susie.

Last year I talked Honey into going to a lame bar downtown but when we got there I surprised her with tickets to see Robert Schimmel. Or maybe it was two years ago?

Joe Jackson + William Shatner

I thought I'll post a video of Joe Jackson. After all, has anyone influenced the way I view the world more than Joe Jackson with "Is She Really Going Out with Him"? Has anyone understood my teenage frustration more than Joe Jackson with "Different for Girls"? Has anyone come up with a better album than Look Sharp?

So I did a video search for Joe Jackson and in the end went for this one. It's just so weird. It has the potential to be a disaster but despite William Shatner's maternity dress, his bad dance moves, and his glances to the lyrics sheet this is a lot of fun.

In fact, on third viewing it's actually pretty great.

Song Lyrics

I used to care about song lyrics. It’s not all bad, don’t get me wrong. For example, I’m happy I don’t get excited over Billy Joel’s lyrics anymore. “They’re sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it’s better than drinking alone.” I copied that one into my high school planner and circled it a few times for effect. And also Dire Straits: “There's so many different worlds, So many different suns. And we have just one world, But we live in different ones.” It rhymes, it’s catchy, it’s got it’s own inner logic, but… Thank God I’m not a teenager anymore.

But what about the good stuff? The other day I played “Cars” by Built to Spill, and remembered sitting in the rented appartment in London in my early twenties, listening to people talk about the beauty of lyrics, and I remembered them playing that song again and again saying they, too, would like to see movies of their dreams. That, I miss.

Maybe it’s not about age but about the weight of life. Unbearable lightness my ass. You move a few times, sometimes in the same city, then across the ocean to another continent. You deal with jobs and with crazy bosses and insane co-workers. You search for love. You drink. You smoke and spend the rest of your life trying to quit. You have sex. You spend time and energy trying to have more sex. You buy stuff. You lose pens and lighters. You deal with the plumber and you argue with the cable company. You always get screwed by the local garage. Always. You get sick and healthy and sick again. You do your taxes.

And then, before you know it, you forget you used to wish you could see movies of your dreams.

Life is funny like that.

Hey, is that The Flaming Lips?

Young @ Heart Sing "Fix You"

Another video I stole from Scott-O-Rama.
This video of Young @ Heart made me instantly cry. It will even make Republicans cry. Life is so Goddamn short.

Super Furry Animals - Demons

"Coz I know that you know that we know they don't know what's going on."

Santorum: The World's Greatest

Hanging around YouTube, one finds pretty amazing stuff.

I won't be offended if you don't make it to the end of the video. It's basically the same: giving out gigantic checks, hanging out with soldiers, and posing with the family.

Our Wedding Song: Blur - To the End

Underworld - Cowgirl (Live)

Music Video: The Long Winters

Acetone - All You Know