I remember a Rilo Kiley song that my friend sent me a thousand years ago (I’m old enough to throw such phrases around). I always loved Portions for Foxes (I know there’s a post titled that somewhere along the line). And now, I should be getting to see Jenny Lewis in Salida with my best beloved Mumford and Sons for a Colorado Stopover! It’s pretty exciting and I’m very grateful for the early heads up that gave me one of the very few hotel rooms in town. Little sister’s going again. I am ready for some pie at the little restaurant outside of town that is delicious and precious and ready for just the whole thing all over again. So that’s the big news. Aside from the fact that they also have a new album coming out in May and a new single here shortly. I’m very giddy, still have to get the actual tickets, though.
It’s not all sunshine and buttercups right now.
Apparently, my grandfather fell and had to be taken to the ER. We learn these things through email chains and Facebook messages. But he’s also okay and going to go back from the hospital tomorrow. So. Yeah, there’s another little worry to flicker around in my head. I just have to go with the fact that he’s okay now.
I got up and got on the bike again, but I think it’s making me ravenous and I have to take the time to work out what I’m going to eat at work tomorrow, because I have a bar left and even after eating a giant box of chicken wings, I feel completely starving. I’m not giving up, because I think about him and reasons and that I will get to have some sort of fancy dinner out this month. It might be this weekend, I don’t know. I need to get more food in me and right now I’m at that stage where I’ve got so much else going on that it becomes lunch time or dinner time and there’s nothing prepared and I just go for whatever standby isn’t a diet-killer. Sigh. Not good.
Yeah, there hasn’t been a letter yet and while I didn’t have a feeling like there wouldn’t be one, I kinda wonder now if there won’t be. It does feel sort of illogical given, you know, how full-on interested we’ve seemed to be, but I know how this goes, I’ve done this, just dropping off the face of the earth because the room had started to feel warm or cramped or too yellow and it could just be karma kicking my ass. By giving me someone who can write the sort of letter you haphazardly answer without measuring your tone out in teaspoons because you feel the feeling of needing something other than this sangfroid, this reserve, and now, I wonder if that very delirious transmission triggered something I was unaware of, and he’s decided to fuck off. Or, y’know, if this is just life in the big city, kid. I mean, if I think about it carefully and minimally, I may come away completely unscathed and with no adjustment to my worldview and ego whatsoever.
Mostly, I think he has a life whereas I have a gummy worm in the shape of a life and he’s out doing things and will get back to me in the order I was received.