C: "I like him. But he keeps saying I'm cute. I'm tired of fucken bein' cute. Fuck! My ASS is cute! I want somebody to tell me I'm HAWT, dammit. That they want to take me home and fuck me doggy-style!"
M: "BWAHAH HAHA HAHAHAH. OK, Puta. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Love you."
C: "Bye, bitch, love you."
About 5 minutes later, phone rings:
C: "I forgot to tell you something!!! That guy I met? He texted me 'Hi, love, you passed through my mind'. Freak! Who SAYS that! What does that mean I 'passed through' his mind?"
M: "Well, it probably means he thought you were HAWT and wanted to take you home and fuck you doggy-style!"
Maybe you hadda been there. But it cracked me up all damn day.
So the Project now owns a silkscreen machine. It was supposed to have been rerouted to my place because of some drama at Cricket's address, but it got shipped there anyway. Late. When he was home... which is a pretty cool sign if you ask me, since Cricket doesn't seem to go right home EVER, and had it come earlier no one would have been there.
So he's happy. It prompted a rather long text-messaging conversation in which he said something else that kind of pissed me off and in my head I was like "fuck it then. Let him do his shit and I'll think of something else" but what it came down to is text-messaging isn't always the best way to have a long business conversation.
In his case though, messaging works better for us cuz a.) when ever he calls me from his apartment the call gets dropped like 6 times, and b.) our phone conversations go on for hours. Fucker. I'm still pissed about the "not the same connection" bullshit. Oh yeah, I didn't write the details of that but basically that's what pissed me off. Whatever.
And then after a long messaging conversation it came down to the fact that we DO see exactly the same vision, just different ways of getting there. But the output, the message we're trying to share is exactly the same. And he gets me. He gets when I'm stifling myself, and I love that he tells me. And somehow it doesn't annoy me.
... and I got word from another source today that apparently, a few other people have noticed how well we understand each other. But whatever.
The Scrub resurfaced today, of all days. He might "need something" he said. I said "OH, I see how this works... YOU need something. Well *I* needed something the other night, and yesterday, but I was SOL cuz unlike you I don't got options". He asked me how come I wasn't certain places when he was. I told him it was cuz I was avoiding him. Which is true, actually.
A year ago I was in Vegas. A year ago I let my guard down and I fell hard. And suffered horribly afterward. Dealing with him reminds me of that shit, that I never want to feel like that again--the aftermath I mean. Cuz the first part was great.
The Sun had a violin lesson today with my HighSchool Peep. And today it clicked. Today he may have gotten the "joy" back. He got the hang of "Minuet II" by Bach, and he has some work to do on the smoothness, but it's starting to "lilt". And he enjoyed me telling him that that music piece reminds me of riding a bicycle... you go along for a spell on a road you know well, pretty straight ahead. And then you turn a corner and go along another path, one that has a few rolling hills, pedaling fast up the little inclines, coasting in the dips till you reach the top of the hill, then do the same down the other side.... then you get back to the main stretch of road you know well, the one that leads you home. As I described it, I could see in his eyes, that it clicked... he was starting to get the joy of the music, what it means to learn something new, to master the little hills and coast down the little slopes until you know it and it flows.
My HighSchoolPeep is also starting to teach him a more difficult concerto. He got the first line of it pretty quickly. The Sun's regular violin teacher at Opus had warned me that HSP pushes a little fast... but I knew it's what the Sun needed. He needed stuff thrown at him, that he could dodge and weave cuz the kid picks up things pretty quickly. HSP even said so... that he has a really good ear. And that he wanted the Sun to become a "literate" musician and really read the music and not just coast on playing by ear. So that was very cool.
On the way home, I was describing my own joy at singing and learning new music, and I guess Sun heard the passion in my voice. "Are you going to cry, mom?" "No," I said. "What makes you think that?"
"Cuz I know your voice," he said. "You get that little shake."
I had to laugh. I guess I'm more passionate about music than even I thought, and I do know that of all the things I can do, singing is the easiest, and my love for music--any kind of music--will always be my first love. And I really hope the Sun gets that fever for music, too... but I think it's starting... He played for his dad later. I held the phone up on speaker mode. SD was at dinner with some friends, but he was deeply moved... and had his friends listen in on the other end.
Poppy comes home next Tuesday. NOW is when Bigbear decides to clean the apartment. Not last month or two months ago... but now. And my sister has a headache cuz she's all stressed about him coming home. She wonders when she can live her own life, my sis. I keep telling her she just needs to do it. Luckily on FB when she posed the question everyone else said the same thing so I won't get snapped at in the comments section... I told her today she needs to not worry about Poppy. That's Bigbear's job... even if she doesn't want it.
I expect the comments that follow to be lengthy. Hmmmm. Maybe I'll disable the comment option...
I'm back on the "trying to re-arrange my desk" kick. And I remember why I stopped. There's no good configuration given all the equipment I have, and now it looks worse than ever, there's shit everywhere, and I have a TON of work I'm behind on... A TON. *sigh*...