today has just been all over the map.
found out this morning that a friend of mine is in the ICU. it sounds like he's pretty stable, but he's still in the ICU. and i just saw him recently, too - like last night. it's weird, and odd, and unsettling. how does one help in a situation like that? for right now, there's nothing i can do but pray.
i managed to track down the mysterious note i found on my mailbox last night. got home to find a scrap of paper tucked behind the emblem on the outside of my mailbox - 'beth - call me - (unidentified phone number)'. it's clearly someone who knows me, because my given name isn't anywhere to be found on my mailbox. but i didn't recognize the handwriting or the phone number. this creeps me out a bit. and call about what?
so i called the number this morning, and (rather unpolitely) responded to the 'hello' on the other end with a very suspicious 'who exactly is this?'. i didn't recognize the voice at all. his response of 'it's me' didn't help. 'okay, we have a problem. i don't know who you are, and yet you leave me an unsigned note at my house? who the hell are you?' at which point, my landlord started laughing.
turns out i sounded like his wife, which is why he said 'it's me.' i pointed out to him that leaving unsigned notes is really very uncool, and should he feel the need to do that again, would he be kind enough to take a few seconds to SIGN HIS FREAKIN' NAME? oh, by the way - why were you calling?
get this. he wanted my car keys. um... for what? so he could move my car around at will in order to facilitate getting rid of the three dead cars that are out there. uh huh. um, no. no, you most certainly may not have my car keys. feel free to ask me to move the car, if you need me to. i'm happy to help out. but i am definitely not turning my car key over to a guy who isn't smart enough to sign his name to a note. plus i'm a little possessive of my car.
and then i met up with earl to head down to Avalon. the Push Stars played there tonight, and we both wanted to see the show. security being tighter than it's ever been, i expected them to search my bag, as they did last time, and then ask me to check it.
this time, they said that i couldn't take the bag in to the club at all. i said i was willing to let them search it, that i had no problem with that. 'no. that's illegal.' (untrue, and bullshit) he suggested that i go back and leave it in my car. 'my car is 5 miles from here; i came by T.' so Security Drone and i went back and forth on this for a while. i was not about to miss this show. i've been looking forward to it for quite a while. and Security Drone was not helping. finally, i just looked at him and asked calmly, 'i have tickets for this show. what do you suggest i do?'
get this: 'go use the coatroom at the place next door.' ?! okay, so the antrax thing has you making up inane rules and arbitrarily enforcing them, but you're willing to risk things at the place next door?
and i double checked, just to see how much stuff i'd have to ditch. i had to lose the backpack, but my pocketbook was acceptable. where's the rhyme or reason in that?
turns out the place next door doesn't yet have the coatcheck open for the season. $10 later, i'd bribed one of the cashiers to watch my bag for me. she said to just say that i was her cousin when i came back to pick it up. creativity will win out, if you want to see a show badly enough.
but when we got in the club... i saw someone standing there with a box wrapped in newspaper and twine. *shakes head* i nearly pointed this out to one of the Drones before realizing the general futility of it all.
oh, and it was our anniversary, too. if we were still together, it would have been our third anniversary. we had talked about this a few weeks ago; we both still have it marked in our electronic calendars as annual repeaters, and neither one of us wants much to delete it, as it's still a significant date. *sigh* i never said this was an easy road for me.
we had some hard conversation, and lots of good conversation, while waiting for the show to start. i'm still learning so much about that relationship, even after the fact. some of it hurts. some things it wasn't possible to discuss until now, for a variety of reasons. and as much as it hurts to hear some of these things, i love and respect him for verbalizing these things, for trying to communicate, for sharing things that are important to him. i dearly wish that the communication had been possible then. but i'm willing to accept it now. and i'm honored that he values my opinion, as he values few others, still and despite everything.
all of that aside, the show was wonderful. it was far less crowded down there than it was at the Byrne show (altho i did nearly get taken out by a few grunts moving a sofa past the bar while i was getting water). and it was loud. really loud. the nice thing about volume, despite my concern for my hearing, is that i can sing at the top of my lungs along with every single song. and no one cares. because they can't hear me.
everyone was shouting for Michigan, and i kept thinking they didn't need to worry. Push Stars would play an hour and a half, take a quick break, come back and do a three song encore, and close with Michigan. sometimes i scare myself. that's exactly what they did. maybe i've picked up more working the music gig than i realized.
i thought about buying a CD after the show, but ended up getting a black baby doll T shirt with a silver star on it. that never happens. i never buy concert T shirts. but this one was really cute, so i broke down and did it anyway.
earl helped me move the car (see above, re creepy note), and i mostly did okay. the thing i'm proud of is that i did the Chinese Fire Drill without really thinking about it when i realized that i wasn't going to be able to parallel part to the left (always had a problem with that). pulled forward, threw it in neutral, pulled up the brake, and got out. and nothing bad happened. and i didn't even think about it as i was doing it. and that's progress.
latest sign that i've been living in the city too long: as we're walking back across to my house, a car goes by. and it loses a hubcap. i look at earl, glance up the street, and then sprint over to see if perchance the hubcap might fit my car, which is missing one.
and then he wished me good night and happy anniversary. i'm not sure how i feel about hearing that from him, seeing where we are and how things are these days. i mean, i get it, but i don't. i guess i wish ... i don't know what i wish. i don't know how i feel about it all. it's sort of like playing Blind Man's Bluff, this trying to figure out a friendship thing. i just hope i don't walk into the light pole in the process.