wish you were here

So a quick announcement for the Vegas folks: There will be a bit of early birthday revelry happening Friday at 9pm at Crown and Anchor, with some 80′s night action afterwards. You know, plans are subject to change, etc. If you can’t make it, there may be some Old School (as in, with the Evil Chick Brigade) party stuff happening around the 3rd-ish.

I’ve been watching a few of the season finales this week, both for work reasons and because, let’s face it, I got hooked on Heroes this season. I suppose I could go on some kind of elaboration about American Idol and how this season it’s jumped the shark, and jumped it pretty far out, but really it’s been said elsewhere by people who have the time and inclination to launch into those kind of pop culture writings. If it weren’t for the fact that I had to watch it for work, I probably wouldn’t have watched past the audition shows. (I have to say, though, I watched the Scrubs finale, and it made me glad it’s coming back for another season, just because after watching 6 seasons of it, I’m invested in the characters.)

I feel like I have a really long post I’m supposed to be making, but every time I open up the browser to blog, I’m blanking out. I mean, I didn’t really blog for 3 months, you’d think I’d have a lot to say, but I’m really self-censoring. While things in my life are going great right now, there are some smoke and mirrors going on– not anything terribly serious, mind you, but I’ve been thinking about two major components of my life quite a bit lately. And to the point where I’ve been having some trouble sleeping the past few days. In a way, because I’m waiting for San Diego, my brain’s been on a feedback loop, and now that I don’t have to be home at least twice a week to watch TV for work, I’m getting a little worried. But that just means I need to get some work done– not just writing, but staying on my food and exercise regimen to lose weight for this bridesmaid’s dress for the wedding (which is in two and a half weeks, Jesus.) I’ve had to have a great load of patience with myself and my body.

Music-wise, I’ve been listening to a lot of Björk and Tori Amos lately, mainly because they both came out with new albums, and even though I’ve listened to both (albeit not necessarily intently yet), I’ve been drawn to their older material, finding new sounds in them.

Because sometimes, you know, “Everybody needs a good bottle of wine and some depressing songs every once in a while,” as Tori said. But maybe not necessarily the bottle of wine, and maybe not because I’m necessarily depressed. Maybe it has to do with being okay with accessing that part of yourself, even when you’re in a good place. Or maybe it’s the parts of me that have longings and wishes that want to hear those kinds of songs. I’m not sure.

And there’s this little thing. I wrote it on my drink napkin on the plane to Pittsburgh, just because I’d never started and finished something on a plane, and because I wanted to write something on a napkin.

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So I didn’t really write a whole lot about Pittsburgh, mainly because a lot of my time was spent eating with my cousins, visiting people, or out and about walking around with my aunt and my priest cousin (Father Cousin?). I think I had maybe two mornings where I could walk up the street, one of them spent actually sitting up at the Coffee Tree to get a couple hours of work done.

Anyway, there are a couple of songs I’ve had on repeat since I’ve returned, and they really kind of set the atmosphere for the two trips I had there: the party and the contemplating.

‘Cause I did a lot of thinking about Uncle Bobby in Pittsburgh. His absence, in a way, is bigger than his presence ever was. But. Anyway.

The first is the Party Song, and I was so glad to have stumbled upon it on my hard drive (in one of my folders containing massive amounts of mp3s for the past 2 SXSW Featured Artists torrents, which have come up randomly in my iTunes and makes me go WTF is this? every so often), because I probably would’ve just remembered this weird track and never found out who it was. And I don’t remember if it was on the radio or if it was just a random tape or CD in the car, but the first good memory about the trip was sitting in the backseat, rolling down Carson Street, and hearing “Bulgarian Chicks” by Balkan Beat Box. Fucking boss. And even though the street’s not as In Your Fucking Face anymore, just the whole energy of the night, and the jet lag, just made me happy. That and Jocelyn and I saying “Wheee!” every so often was pretty awesome.

The second is the Contemplating Song. And its timing was particularly great, as I was just getting out the door when the first song that came on my little iPod was Katie Dill’s simple “This Body’s Only Rental.” Walking down Phillips Avenue, in an old suburb, the spring just starting to show her leaves to the world, and the rooftops that cascade down Murray Avenue are just gorgeous to me. It’s a backdrop I’ve seen a million times, and my Uncle a million more times than me. And I turned up Murray to walk up the hill to Forbes, and she’s singing “Pick your risk and take it,” and I just want to turn to everyone walking down the street and say “Yes yes yes.”

At the Coffee Tree, I worked on a birthday story in the same corner that Uncle Bobby sat me down in almost exactly 5 years ago, asking me what I was going to do now that Dad was gone. And I told him I was going to write. I’m sure that scared the hell out of him at the time, but I know he was trying to guide me right now that I didn’t have anyone to give me advice. And we talked about Dad, and how we were doing, and won’t ever forget how scared I felt then.

And with everything happening during this spring, it really hurt to walk down the street and know I can’t talk to him about what I’m doing. Or Dad. And it’s Mother’s Day, and Mom’s not here either to tell me I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing. I swear.

That just turned downward and depressing. But with all the losses over the years, it makes the wins that much better. So we go.

And I turn to you as we pass each other on the street, and I say: “Yes yes yes.”