Who I Am-

Who I Am-

So, a little over a year ago, I was on tour with Nick Jonas in support of his solo record. I had some friends that came to one of the shows. Some friends that I had met thru other Jonas shows. So, when I say that- take it to mean they wanted to talk about the Jonas Brothers. One of them asked me a question that struck me as strange but I started to answer it. She asked me to describe Who I Am. That was the name of Nick's solo record, btw ;) I started answering with a list of all the things that I do. Then something happened that stopped me. I realized I was answering with what I thought people wanted to hear which was some impressive resume of places I have been, things that I do for work and people I have worked for...not really at all Who I Am.

It gave me something that I have been thinking about since then and adding to here and there into a list. That's one component of Who I Am- someone who makes lists constantly.

This is Who I Am

My names Misty Dawn cause I was born on a rainy morning. My dad was very sick when I was warming up in the little bun oven. They didn't have time to sit and worry about silly things like names for me. So, when I popped out it happened to be 6am and raining outside. They looked out the window and my dad said it was a beautiful Rainy Morning. Thus, I am Misty Dawn.

I am from a very small town in the middle of Kansas. My whole life I dreamed of getting out. I never wanted to go to college and get a boring job and settle down. I wanted to live somewhere that was big with lots of lights and houses with high ceiling and chandeliers. I wanted stores that were open all night and bars that didn't close till dawn. I wanted glitter and things that were glossy. As I got older and more damaged, I began to see the beauty in things that were run down and dirtier. So, I ended up in Los Angeles- the best of both of things. I am run down and dirty and glittery and glossy.

I am from a broken up, dysfunctional family. My dad died when I was 10 months old before I even knew him. My mom has an extremely large family that has had their fair share of feuds, fights and family disasters. My mom remarried someone who didn't deserve to have a pet mouse, let alone a family. I learned at age 5 how to unlock the front door with my latchkey around my neck. I learned at age 6 how to cook for myself. I learned at age 7 how to read books that grown ups read. I learned at age 8 how to cry quietly so no one heard you. I learned at age 9 how to lock myself in the car outside so I didn't have to listen to the fighting. I learned at age 10 how to get up in the middle of the night and turn off the tv because someone passed out in front of it again. I learned at age 11 how to run away. I learned at age 12 how everything can change overnight and your world can be turned upside down and inside out. I learned all along how to be independent because there is no one that you can really rely on. I learned also all along that most people will leave. People aren't meant to stay forever. People die and go away, people don't like you anymore so they go away, people get tired of the fighting so they go away and sometimes people just get bored so they go away. I am dysfunctional.

I am a classic case of ADHD. I have long known the fear of not being able to focus on things people are saying to you or not understanding them because you can't play attention long enough for them to finish. I grew up with a brain that seemed to constantly be at work. When most people laid down at night to sleep, I laid in bed with my eyes wide open worrying about the weirdest things you could imagine. I thought about what would happen if my mom died. I thought about what would happen if our house caught fire. I thought about what would happen if maybe someday he just didn't come home from work. I thought about what it was going to be like when we moved away and I lost all my friends. I thought about if lepricauns were real. I thought about if there was really a place like Jurassic Park. I thought about what it would be like to be friends with Madonna. I thought about if we had enough milk for cereal in the morning or if I was going to have to get up extra early and make toast or if we had break for that even. And when I got done thinking about all those things, most the time the sun was coming up and it was time for me to get up and cook myself breakfast. I am my ability to not focus or shut off.

I am a hopeless romantic. Despite what I watched growing up, I live with the thought that it's still possible at some point in my life for me to know what stability and security feel like. That's my idea of hopeless romanticism. Not a prince on a white horse. Not a rich business man that whisks me of to Paris. Not the fairy tale that most people think really exists. Mine is to know that someone isn't just going to go away. Knowing that someone understands the thought that if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't get me at my best either. The idea that someone wants to tell me good morning and good night every day. Someone who wants to hear about the things that happen in my day whether they are mundane and boring or some red carpet event. Someone that will make me feel like I am beautiful, smart and funny and all that they need in the world for things to be good. Someone that won't want to make me cry on purpose but will still be there if I do. Someone that can share awesome things with me when they happen but understand that things aren't always sunshine and puppy dogs. I am still hopeful.

I am the picture of hard work and what it can get you. I didn't take the easy route. I could have but I didn't. I worked harder than most people I know to get where I am. I didn't see a bus until I was 5 years into the touring business. I fucked up and I learned things all on my own. I didn't have a mentor, I didn't have anyone pulling for me for a very, very long time. I slept on floors, I worked odd jobs, I didn't eat, I couldn't pay my rent so I moved out of where I lived. And every time I almost gave up, something happened that made me keep going. And one day, I turned around and looked at all that I had been thru and thanked god that for the most part the struggle was over. And coming from someone who is quite cynical about religion, thanking god is a pretty immense statement for me. I am what getting your hands dirty can get you.

I am someone who understands depression and fear. I can't say that I always know the triggers but I do know what it feels like to be sitting in your bed and feel like a black wave just washed over and you are drowning. I know how hard it is to have to reach a hand up and ask for help. I also know what it's like when you give up so much that you are past the point of help from people around you and needing help from someone else outside the situation. I know what it's like to hide in your closet at the age of 33 in the middle of night, not able to breath from crying so hard and wishing that something would just happen to make it all end. I also know what it's like to wake up the next day and look at the sun outside and to make yourself. Yes, just to make yourself. Make yourself do anything to make yourself not think. I know what it's like to swallow handfuls of pills and follow them up with a whiskey chaser just to see what might happen. I also know what it's like to flush those pills down the drain and pour the bourbon down the kitchen sink. I am a picture of inner demons and struggles and mind over matter.

I am small gestures and grand ones at the same time. I love seeing things and thinking of people they would be perfect for. I love sending postcards to my friends to let them know I am thinking about them. I love buying unique Christmas presents. I love sending an old friend a song in an email that I heard that made them cross my mind. At the same time, I love those things in return. I love getting a giant dinosaur stuffed into a box sent across the ocean cause it reminded me of someone. I love getting cards in the mail and handwritten letters. I love that occasion email with a picture of something that says I couldn't help but think of you when I saw this and it made me miss you. I love the grand gestures of someone booking a flight to come visit. I've realized that those visits are often an escape from life but I am ok with that if it means I get to spend time with the ones I love. I am small and large.

I am passionate. I am strong willed. I am fiercely independent. I fully believe that everything I think is 100% correct, you will not change my mind because I am right and I can do everything by myself. This, of course, is not always the case. But I dare you to try and convince me otherwise. If you are in my life, know fully that it is not because I need you there- it is because I want you there. I am strong willed enough to not have any problem with removing things from my life that are toxic to me. And independent enough to know that I can make it with or without you. Don't get me wrong, for those of you that have somehow broken down a wall or two- I love that you somehow were strong enough to do it...but don't doubt for one second if I think I am being taken advantage of or my feelings don't mean anything to you, I will reconstruct those walls quicker than you can blink your eyes. I am the sum of those walls and an excellent carpenter.

I am also somehow very easily broken. I am insecure just like every other person in this world that has opened themselves up to being vulnerable. Small things break my heart every day. Small words, small actions, forgetfulness, carelessness. For a moment in time, I stop...I breath to recover from the cold rush, close my eyes and start again. Because that's all you can do in life. You can chose to react to every single persons actions that hurt you or you can chose to quickly move past things. I chose the latter because it's a means of self preservation. People that chose to let everything affect them to the core don't make it very far in life. Just because I chose to move past it doesn't mean however that I don't acknowledge it. And remember it. I am broken and glued back together.

I am mean. I am passive aggressive. I am angry sometimes. When I am pushed to the point of breaking, I go for the throat. I attack the innermost insecurities. I have a knack for knowing what might destroy someone at least for a minute. But I also know that this isn't constructive. And is never helpful in the long run. I learned very early on from listening to adults in my life fight with each other that it might make you feel better for a minute, but it will come back to haunt you. But just like everyone else, I have my moments of weakness. Sometimes you need to be make someone else hurt for a minute to make yourself ok. No, it's not right but it's life. I have learned the power of an honest apology many times over. I am human.

I am karma. I know the pain of being a not so great person and having it all come back to get you. I also know the joy of doing something nice just for the sheer happiness it can bring. I have been on both sides of the coin more times than I care to count. I know that things can happen instantly like saying something mean about someone and then slamming your finger in a drawer. I also know what it's like to hurt someone and years later have someone hurt you the same way. Whether it's instant or takes an eternity...everything comes back to you. I am life cycles.

I am a child. I like the idea of rainbows and unicorns and dinosaurs and wizards and puppy dogs. It's because my childhood was spent being the adult. For lack of better ways to put it, I was the mom while my mom was fighting like a child for what she believed was hers. So, while most kids were watching cartoons, I was trying to escape into books like Grimm's Fairy Tales. I have known the black and white sides of life for too long. Sometimes its so nice to believe in the gray. It's nice to think that there are other things out there that we don't understand and never will. It's nice to be able to escape from reality. It's nice to watch a movie about a kid that gets rescued from his hard life and gets to do cool things while fighting off all the bad guys. It's fun to think that a long time ago Noah didn't like the horns so he left the unicorns off the ark. It's cool to read about what the earth was like when we hadn't ruined it and animals as big as skyscrapers lived on it. It's nice every now and then to think about how things aren't. I am 5 again.

I am me. I am the sum of all my success and failures. And I have had my fair share of both. I am someone that tries to learn from everything that happens to me. Whether it be while it's happening or after the fact when you need to figure it out to be able to keep breathing. I am trying to learn to be logical and view things from others standpoints. I am trying to understand that even if someone else is smiling, they might be hurting inside. I am trying to learn that always saying "I'm fine" isn't the right answer. I am trying to teach myself everyday to be good to the people around me and to the place I live and the planet I get to live on. I am trying to learn that not everyone is the same and people tick in different ways. I am trying to learn how to give people grace. I am also trying to learn how to stand up for what I think i deserve and express it properly. I am learning more everyday.

That is Who I Am.

Those girls were happy to hear about what I do, who I know and where I've been. Guess I wasn't ready to really talk about Who I Am, but I also don't think most people really want to know the real answer when they ask.

--mr

Another Forever Favorite

Different Tone. Amazing how a punk rock song can be turned into something totally different-

Forever Favorite

Holding Patterns

A person that lives in their past is most likely missing out on all of the wonderful things in their present and their future.

Guess a person that lives with their past is even worse off.

Or I guess I just don't understand. One of the many things that just don't make sense in this equation.

But then again, me understanding has never been something that mattered. As long as everyone else is content with what they need and want.

Just comes down to my wants and needs coming in last place. And my future being put on hold while everyone else gets their now.

Holding patterns, just a way of life...or just a means to an end?

Tug o War-

Tug of War
by Fion Lim


Have your heart ever been tugged at both ends?

One end is logically informing you of all the facts and negative aspects,
While the other end is quietly persuading you to have more faith.
The logical and collected end seems to be winning and convincing,
As if letting go is the best decision ever,
While the quiet and pleading end continues to urge you to look again,
As if letting go will be a chance lost forever.

The facts are glaring and pessimistic,
And you are fearful and worried.
Your hope is tiny and yet persistent,
Making you wonder if there could be another possibility.
Most of the facts points out to a disappointing and gleam future,
And yet a small part within you glows with the promise of a gem.

If only all of it is rotten and can be thrown away without hesitation,
But life has a way of challenging you and your beliefs,
Posing you dilemmas and mysteries for you to deal with.

Do you drop it believing that it is for the best?
Or do you hold on believing that it will turn out for the best?
Do you cave in to others' opinions and beliefs?
Or do you cling to your own uncertainty and remain true to yourself?
What if your logical end tell you to lose heart and let go now?
And yet your quiet end continues to want to hold on a while longer?

Do you listen to the kind intentions of your friends,
Thinking and agreeing with them that they know the best for you?
Or do you shut up your deafening inner mind chatter,
And search for that the answer that lies within your heart?
You recall that people always seem to know what is best for you,
And many times they proved themselves right.
But what about being true to yourself and listening to your own heart,
And finding out for yourself what works for you and what makes you tick?

Look carefully,
It is not a tug of war of your heart as you first thought,
It is a tug of war between your mind and your heart,
Do not let yourself be fooled.

Joyce and I rule. or suck...we can't decide.

“A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.”

Been doing a lot of thinking today about comparisons. It's so often that we compare ourselves to others. The thing that I've been thinking about is why we compare things that we can't change.

A few weeks ago I had the unfortunate situation of the person that my boyfriend spent a considerable amount of his life with popping into my world. A tiny little pop that made a crash the size of a sonic boom into my minds eye. I attempted to make the ick feelings go away by discussing it and it helped for about a half a second. One photo. That's all it took.

And now...this is where I sit. I'm having the best morning that I have had in ages and then all the sudden, there it is again. In my face, in my head, in my mind...it won't go away. I made the mistake of looking at it again. New photo, new thoughts.

Blond, blue eyed, perfect. Decent taste in music. Loves her kids. That's really all I know. But those few things make my brain reel. Does she cook better? Does she sing beautifully? Is she better in bed?... cause she is certainly skinnier and prettier. Is she smarter than me? What does she do with her spare time? Did he tell her he loved her everyday? Did they talk about dreams and hopes and what they wanted the future to look like? Was she as pretty when she was pregnant with their children? Does she smoke? Cause I do and he doesn't and I don't think he likes it much. What kind of drunk is she cause I'm obnoxious and loud. Does she have lots of friends? What is her favorite flower and did he send them to her all the time? Does she buy her makeup at the drugstore...yuck! Did she put the effort into things that I do? Did she put more effort into things than I do?

Comparisons. Instead of remembering that I am smart and really funny and I look cute in hats and I dont have any scary wrinkles yet and that I have more varied taste in music than anyone I know and that I have that one bra that looks great, I think things like above.

And I will never be those things. I will never be blonde, blue eyed and perfect. I will be flawed with the marks of my past and the life that I've chosen to live. I will forever have the scars that have shaped my world. I will forever have red crazy curly hair and hazel colored eyes and pale skin and slightly crooked teeth and imperfection. Why the comparisons...there is nothing that will ever change what I am.

And the more that I've thought about it, I've half figured it out. Cause I have never heard what it is that he actually likes about me. Once there was a brief conversation that went like this-

Me to cord that was wrapped around my leg- "Why are you attached to me?!?!"
Him as a joke: "Cause of your personality."
Me: "what?"
Him: "You asked why I was attached to you. Your personality."

Not really what a girl ever wants to hear. It rings to close to the old when you are trying to set up a friend with someone- "Well, she's ok looking but she has a GREAT personality!" It means she's ugly but at some point someone else desperate will take her on cause she's got an ok personality. Because your beautiful and funny and awesome, it was not.

So, in my mind all these comparisons come from me trying to logic out what makes me better. I have to find a way to do it myself. Otherwise I will find myself drowning in the deep end of the pool of self esteem issues that no one ever should need to feel. I guess I came to the conclusion that if no one is going to tell you what they like about you- you have to try to find a way to like things about you, yourself.

So, today I am telling myself that I like myself because I can adjust to situations very easily. I faced a difficult situation last night and adapted to it seemlessly. Each day when those thoughts creep up on me, I'm gonna try and find one thing that I think might be different about us that I like about me better. And know that if that's what I have to do to get thru the day- then so be it.

Diary of a Lullabye

Also another work in progress...I keep picking it up and putting it back down.




These hammers and strings…

It’s 3am and I still can’t sleep. Im not sure what it is that happens to my brain after the sun goes down but I know that it’s not good. I’ve tried just about everything. I’ve tried staying up an entire night so that I can try to go to sleep super early and sleep through the night, I’ve tried every age old wives tale like drinking warm milk and counting sheep. I’ve tried completely dark rooms as well as lights on, sound and complete quiet. But somehow when the sun goes to sleep, my brain goes to work. The things that I think about are ridiculous. What would happen if ants took over the world, what is the first thing I would buy if I won the lottery, what are the things that I think make up the perfect man, should I get up and exercise to help lose that last 10 pounds? Most normal people lie down and their brains shut off and they relax. I’m not familiar with relaxation. When I do finally drift off, it seems as though it’s fitfull periods of a few hours at a time. My name is Misty and this is my diary of a lullabye.

I’ve seen pyscologists and sleep experts. They advice to is to write things down. Get them out of my brain so that when I try to sleep, there is nothing there. So, here I sit with this little notebook by my bed and a trusty #2. I’m at a loss for anything else so I guess I shall try. It’s weird cause I don’t think of myself as much of a writer. Probably because anytime I have tried to write anything down, there is so much going on that I can never stay on subject. I guess that since this for me, that doesn’t really matter. So, here goes-

I guess maybe I should try figuring out where this problem comes from which has actually been one of the things that has kept me up plenty of nights. There have been many times that I have come to the conclusion that I can attribute it to my parents. Well, not the parents that I have now. The parents I had growing up. So, my bio dad passed away when I was only a baby. Most people would say maybe that’s something I never dealt with and that’s part of my problem. Well, I say I have dealt with it as much as someone can. He was never someone that I knew so it’s hard to blame something on him. I never knew him or even knew of him. It’s hard to miss something that you never knew existed. So, we can scratch that off the problem list. My mom remarried when I was 3 to a man that she thought was the answer to her problems of being a single mom in the 70’s. Well, as the years went by…well, like 2 years…she realized that was not the case. To say he was a mean person is a bit of an understatement. I don’t really attribute my problems to him being mean to me but he sure was an ass to my mom. There were definitely times that I felt like I lived in some kind of afterschool special. I remember sucking it up and going to talk to my school counselor because I thought that I was the reason that they fought constantly. He gave me some weird advice. When they would start to fight I would go outside and sit in the car. I was lucky enough to live in a town small enough that there was never anything to do. So, as a child I read A LOT. I liked to read about places that I couldn’t imagine. Places that were so far away and people that had problems that seemed very glamourous. Places like Sweet Valley. Books with girls named Ramona and girls that started their periods and it was an event for the entire family. So, when the yelling would start, I would grab a book and head to the car. I think I started doing this somewhere around the age of 7. It lasted till I was 11 and my mom finally realized that whenever she couldn’t find me after one of the fights, that I was outside in the car. She sat me down and asked me why I spent so much time doing this. I explained it was the only place that I couldn’t hear them yelling at each other usually about me. Even if I sat on the front steps to our house, in the yard or even the driveway I could still hear it. When I got in the car with the windows rolled up and the doors shut, it was like my own little world. Sometimes I would take a pillow and blanket and fall asleep. The tip of the iceberg was when my mom found me in the car at 5am once because the fight had started after my normal bedtime and I couldn’t sleep through it so sleeping in the car seemed like a smart alternative. Oh, the sweet mind of a child. This seemed so very normal to me as a kid. I look back on it now and see how very strange most people would of thought it was.

These Dreams Go On When I Close My Eyes-

This one is a work in progess- still trying to figure out what I am actually trying to say.




“serpents go to sleep, come dancing with devils, we’ll waltz like an army before the fear of our pain, our souls become useless, the truth remains lethal, shoes become hammers and my words become sand..”



I do my best thinking when people are asleep. I think I am a monster of the night. It’s always been a struggle for me to sleep. Since I was a little kid, it’s taken me hours longer than most people to drift off and even then it’s a fitful sleep. I thrash, roll around, have night sweats and terrors and wake up hourly. I have wished for years for peaceful nights of sleep but they don’t exist for me. So, I find myself doing my major life decision thinking when most people are dreaming about theirs.

I have also found that I spend a lot of time watching other people sleep. I have had a night or two of watching someone in the same bed as myself deep asleep off in their own special dreamworld. I have watched people smile, laugh, talk and roll around in a land that is only in their own special place. I have wondered for a very long time why I don’t get that special place. The only dreams that I remember are the specifically terrible ones. Even as a child, I didn’t remember my dreams. I’ve spent hours reading books on dream interpretation and wishing that I had something to compare it to. Just once I wish that I could wake up and look something up in that book and understand what was happening in my brain or what something strange meant. I would be content to even understand the weird dreams that don’t always mean good things. You aren’t supposed to just understand the good stuff, you are meant to understand the bad as well. Or at least know that it’s happening.

Valentines Day

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Always something there to remind me...
So, they say that you have one great love in your life. I have been doing a lot of thinking on this subject lately. Not sure why, I'm blaming it on Jill. I think I have had entirely too much time on my hands. This is a long one and if you make it all the way though, let me know...I'll give you a cookie. I think I have had 16. Or somewhere along those lines. Is it wrong that I look back on past relationships and there is still something about each of them that makes me smile or makes my stomach quiver? I guess I am too good at saying goodbye to people and being okay with it being goodbye because I have learned something about what I like or what I don't in love from them. I still look back at all of them as somewhat "loves." Let's take a brief history lesson. 2nd grade- Ryan Rubick. I loved him. No really. So much so that I threw rocks at him when he pushed me off the jungle gym at recess. We were so in love that we refused to give each other valentines cause that was "gross!" But somewhere down deep I know we were on the same wavelength cause we shared fingerpaints and he let me use his green cause mine was all dried up. That's true love. I look back and think about how that has affected my viewpoint on sharing when you're in love. I still like to share and boys to share their stuff with me. It shows me that they care enough to give me something of theirs. And Ryan is married with 2 kids and shares his stuff with someone else and I love that. 8th grade- Kurt Woods. He called me after a football game and told me I looked cute in my cheerleading uniform and he was glad he didn't play football and was in the band instead cause that meant he could watch me. He then started telling me riddles out of a book alphabetically and when he got to "W" asked - "would you go out with me?" I still like cheesy boys that say simple things that make me smile...and boys that don't play football...Kurt is in the army I think, doubt he's reading many riddle books- but last I heard he was doing great. Freshman year- Paul Timberland. We'll call this one attack on the new girl. I was new at school and he was Mr. Wonderful football star with the cool car and the popular friends. A very traumatic. heartbreaking, sneaking out of the house, crying on the front steps- kinda relationship and he left me for another girl in another town after I left a whole lot more with him. He was the first person that made my stomach nervous cause I didn't know from day to day if he was still mine and I would of done anything to keep him as mine. He taught me that I'm not okay being one of many. I want to be the only and that's okay cause that's what I deserve and its not okay to give up anything that you are not comfortable giving up for someone else. He is still living in that small town, drinking at the local bar, going to high school football games. I'm happy he's happy with that life. I always figured he would be. Junior Year- Brian Duke. Thinking about this kid still gives me the most enormous smile in the world. His smile. His smile lit up a room. The most innocent, niave boy I ever dated. Beautiful mind. So much life. About a year of that and I needed more...more of a bad boy, I guess. Plus there was distance. But he taught me that having a childlike side was okay. I remember being tickled till I almost threw up and it being okay to do that again at the age of 17 with someone. He made me remember that it's okay to let walls down with someone cause that's the only way to really know them. He is still the eternal boyscout and always will be. I hope he never grows up..."you can fly, peter!" Senior Year- Jeff Adams. I can't think of much that he taught me except how to avoid a stalker. I guess it can be phrased such as this. Mad, passionate love is good but there are lines to be respected. 16 phone calls a night and breaking into your car stealing your clothes cause they smell like you is not within those lines. So the quivers I get from thinking of him are more shudders but I do remember there being that time when we couldn't leave each others sights because we couldn't stand to be away from each other that long. However feeling change as people change and that's ok. He is married with a couple of kids and never leaves his wifes side, I guess he found that mad, passionate love he was always looking for. Freshman Year of College- Yep, Tom Campa. My freshman algebra professor. Yeah, this one I prolly shouldn't mention but hell, it's been long enough. I remember sneaking into his dorm cause he was an RA and having to hide when people came to the door. I remember the intrigue of all of it...the suspense of when I could get away with it again. I remember thinking how "stealthy" I was when I wanted to be. I learned from him that mystery is fun in a relationship and that secrets aren't always bad if they don't hurt anyone. I learned that playing cat and mouse can be fun, but can get tiresome and is normally not worth it. He is still there, still coaching soccer, still probably fucking around with students, haha. But ya know, that's his MO. I knew it then, I wasn't that dumb. Sophomore year of college- we're gonna skip this phase of life cause I could write a book on it. This encampsulates my marriage and divorce...someday kids, someday I'll be ready for that one. Age 23- 25 are kind of a blur of work, life changing, moving around...there was really no time for men/boys. I'm sure they were there but I don't really remember them, therefore they don't belong in this blog. I take that back. 24 and 25 belonged to a girl. Julie Schaffer. I got divorced and had forgotten what living was. This girl found me in the place we worked and noticed I had lots of music stuff around me and listened to cool tunes at my desk. Soon, we were inseperable. Going to shows nightly, drinking till our guts hurt and sharing the most intimate secrets people have. I remember a brief couple of weeks when we were both super busy, coming home to a coffee cup with lemons and cherries decorating it filled with lemonheads and cherryheads (some of my favorite candies). It had a note in it that said "I'm sorry I've been such a lemon of a friend lately, I still think you're a cherry." Julie taught me the importance of independence yet dependence. We were so close and sometimes forgot that we were still different people. I depended on her so much cause I was used to having someone to depend on. I remember visiting her in the hospital and her crying because she had missed a very important event that I had planned at work. That was Julie, she cared more about other people than herself. I look to that now when I make decisions that affect more than just me. She has since left my life and I miss her small gestures and I do miss depending on her, but I've learned so much about my independence from her. I miss you Jules so very, very much. Age 26- Ryan. We're gonna leave last names outta this cause there are too many people that know him and his now significant other. Wouldn't want to cause any issues. Ryan was a whirlwind. He flew into my life and then flew right back out. In and out on a monthly basis for a while. He traveled, we'll say that. The late night phone calls. The "man, you are sooo different...s" So, on one of his "trips" I told some friends of mine to go meet him. One of them ended up with him that evening and off again/on again dating him for a year. He once again flew out of my life and never really has landed in it again in that capacity. I can look back at this one with somewhat of a smile cause he taught me that living the way I was, I would never get ahead. I have him to thank for me getting into this industry in the correct manner, not taking the easy way out. He is in Chicago with his very pretty girlfriend co-habitating now, cleaning his life up and figuring out where to go with it. I'm proud that I was maybe a small piece of that in the last few months. Great talks at 5am buddy. Age 27- PJ. Now, I know most of you are gonna laugh about this one, cause there's not a lot of positive about it. He's what I refer to as the "Brain Cramp of age 27." But the things I do remember are trying to take care of him. Realizing he was in a bad place with working, family, etc. and trying to make up for all of that. Buying him things, giving him a place to stay, letting him talk to me in a manner no one should ever be talked to and thinking that was okay. Basically he taught me that you cant fix anyone if you are broken yourself like I was. And you really just cant fix anyone period if they don't want to fix themselves. I left and was ecstatic about being alone again...time to fix myself. He is back in KC with a 12 year old girlfriend living on someone's couch, touring occasionally. That brings a smile to my face...it really does, cause that's the life he deserves to live. Age 28- DROUGHT Age 29- I'm gonna let this one remain nameless cause he's on here and he reads this, etc. I met and had a quick whirlwind suckface session every night for a few weeks and then we left each other. Different things pulled us in different directions and I don't think either of us expected more. We still chat on the phone and I got to see him briefly on this tour. He is one of these loves only because of the happiness that he brings due to the no strings attached approach that accompanied him. He taught me that it's okay to not expect things from someone. It's okay to let nature take its course and if it's meant to be someday it might be just as it might not and that is ok too. He is living his dream, loving life and smiling all the time and that makes me smile. Enjoy it LA, you only get to live this life once. So, that concludes the brief history of the loves of my life. So, how can anyone say that you only get one? I know people that consider every person that has crossed their paths as a love. I guess I consider the people that have taught me dramatic life lessons as loves. If I wanted to really get down to it, there are plenty more but these are the memorable ones. The ones that make me reflect on things that have molded the way I am now. Why am I writing this? I am writing this cause of a talk Jill and I had the other day. Learning what you like and want and what you don't like and don't want. Anyone that has been in my life before obviously wasn't the "one." They were just practice and learning but that doesn't take away from the fact that they were important. It's funny to me to think of all the learning I have already done and the fact that there's probably more to come. No matter how old you get, you never stop learning. If you do, it's cause you've just closed your mind. Jill...we should be geniuses by now...you tell that Joshua that it's all a life science lesson. Maybe he can be the last one to teach you...I hope so. Happy Belated Valentines Day loves... Feeling weirdly nostalgic, M

This one is monsterously long, just as a forewarning. It's actually written in 3 different pieces...and a very long story.






I can picture your face well from the bar in my hotel...

So, just as every other day starts out- this one wasn't much different. Show in Glasgow. Stumble off the bus, groggy, hair a mess, smoke cig. Same ol, same ol. Load in, park bus, lunch with Woods which always involves smiling and giggling cause he's more of a girl than i am. Doors, show goes by, Load out. After-party tonight though cause our driver needs some sleep. Head down to the bar area and grab a Strongbow. Stand by the bar getting hit on relentlessly by nameless band guy. However, then something changed. You know those moments when the world seems to go from black and white into color? This was one of those moments I looked up and saw smiling, giggling faces staring at me from about 10 feet away. I politely excuse myself from the not so surprising conversation and confidently walk over even though my stomach is turning upside down the entire time.

I look up from under the hat covering my mess of hair and put on my best smirk and ask "What's so funny, boys?"

Guess I should jump back and explain what or more importantly who was making my stomach twist into knots. A few days earlier I had been in the checking into our hotel and looked up to see a very attractive slightly older than me...well- man. You know the difference when you see a man compared to a guy, right? Now, meeting a man in a hotel is never a good idea. But I did notice that he was with the other band at the hotel that we happened to be on tour with. So, I was guessing my chances of meeting up again with him were kinda high. So, I continued on with my work throwing over the occasional glance After the previous few days I had in the bus I was ready for a little bit, take that back...a whole bunch a sleep. So, I slid into bed and slept roughly till the next morning. I hit the bar in the lobby for some coffee. I looked over and again there was said man. He was again with the band. I assumed this meant I would be seeing him at the show so I slugged down some more coffee to wake up and hopped on the bus. We went and loaded into the venue and soundchecked. We had label reps coming that night so I dressed up a bit before doors and went outside to greet our manager. As I was standing there shooting the shit with him, the man...yeah, that one- walked up and introduced himself. I'm not sure what would be saying too much but I will just say that it ends up that he works with my band too. I had things to get done so I moved on pretty quickly thinking I'd find some way to run into him later. Work,work and more work. I was worried about this show since the UK label was there so I wanted to make sure it sounded perfect. Hmmm...guess I'll kill 2 birds with one stone. So, with a little bit of a smile on my face I made sure to stand by the soundbooth while the band was playing so I could communicate with Mo easier and...which may have just happened to be right in front of the man. I returned up to merch and before I knew it he was standing right in front of me.

The first thing I noticed as I do with everyone I meet were his hands. I looked down at them. They were perfect. I should explain. There are so many things about hands that tell you about a person. But the most important is that I can immediately tell if I want someone's hands to touch me. I'm kinda weird about it. I don't really like shaking hands very much and I definitely don't like people that I don't know touching me. But I wanted his hands to touch me. At that moment, I decided that I wanted his hands all over me. That's never a judgement I have made from one look at someone's hands before. Most of the time I just decide whether they are allowed to greet me in the way that society for some reason has deemed appropriate that I find so very, very distasteful. Do you the things that people's hands touch before they touch yours? Think about it.

Being that my brain was a little twitchy, I don't even remember what we talked about but I do remember being very intrigued. He didn't seem to be the normal music business person that I meet. He seemed for some reason to be much more down to earth. I actually enjoyed talking to him and didn't feel like I was putting on the face, I felt comfortable, which doesn't generally happen that quickly. Later that night I ran into him again as he was bringing me my late for bus call guitar tech. I bid him a goodnight and he said he'd see me tomorrow in Glasgow. I walked on the bus smiling.

So, this gets us to where we are. There he stood with my comic book character bass player. Giggling and staring at me. Actually giggling wasn't the word for it. Bass Player boy was laughing hysterically cause he knew he had been caught in the act. I had briefly mentioned to him earlier in the day that I thought the man was pretty attractive. I knew immediately by the twinkle in his eyes that he had done the equivalent of passing a note in junior high that says "Do you like me? Check- yes or no." I really kind of felt like I was gonna throw up but now that I was found out, I had to do something. And we all know that playing the wallflower role is just not me. So, I waited for the response.

Bass Boy keeps laughing and says "I'm sorry!!!!!! I couldn't help it....!!!!!!!!" and walks off. There I stand. Oh god. What now. I had never thought it through this far. Shit. I turn and try to put my best coy smile on my face and say "so..this is awkward." He laughs a bit and says something to the affect of "Well, is there any truth to that?" Shit...what do I respond. Now is not the time to play it cool. I'm old enough that I have figured out there are times to play cool and times to let your inner nerd just come on out. So, I did, awkward as it was-honest, awkward nerd came out. I said yes, it was true and waited for the response which made my coy smile melt right of my face. The response was that the feeling was mutual Shit again. I'm so bad at this. I'm not smooth in any way shape or form. I'm awkward like a baby deer standing up for the first time I don't have the ability to come up with witty lines that quickly. That was always one thing that I admired about my best friend Anne. She could come up with the best lines I have ever heard on the spot. Example: "Do you know who Adonis is?" "no..." "Adonis is the God of Lust and I think you're my Adonis." What!!!! Who comes up with that shit on the spot!?! Not me. Then again, Anne and I have very different taste in males. And she used that one on a boy that looked good but couldn't speak with words that had more than one syllable So, I clumsily step in a little closer pretending that the bar is loud and I can't really hear him. He says to me "What are we gonna do about this?" The only response I can think is "Well, it seems to be that we have a few hours to find out..."

At this point I realize that out of sheer nerves I have consumed my entire large Strongbow so we head to the bar to get me another. He grabs me a drink and somehow we get involved in a conversation with some people at the very overcrowded bar. For the next 30 minutes I listen to the way he interacts with these random people. I love watching the way people mix their body language and verbal skills together when interacting with new people. I think it tells alot about the way their brain works. I guess you can tie that back to the hours sitting in psychology classes. He's pretty witty and very attentive. My interest in this man starts to grow. I'm not sure if it's the Strongbow or genuine in my head at that point though. In the course of the conversation it comes out that I primarily call LA home when I'm not touring. I can see his shoulders relax a bit as he says "That takes a bit of the pressure off. I live in North Hollywood. Now there's no rush on this." I again smile when I hear this thinking to myself "hmmm....this could be interesting."

We step away from the bar after I grab another Strongbow and to the side where we might actually be able to talk to each other. It's still pretty loud so I hold my leg out and wrap it around his and pull him a bit closer to me with a smile on my face. That was totally the Strongbow acting...I'm soooooo not that brave. He says to me a bit later "I like the way your leg is wrapped around me." Good thing cause it scared the shit out of me with the fear that he'd be scared off by the forwardness of it. We have another good conversation and I realize that I have consumed 3 very large Strongbows and have to visit the loo. I excuse myself and walk into the bathroom and have a good laugh at what I find. It's an unmentionable but lets just say I am not in the bathroom alone. There is a couple enjoying what they thought was the privacy of the ladies room. And I know one of them. haha! I throw on a fresh coat of gloss and head back to the man. I'm not sure how it actually happened but when I was walking up he was talking to a girl who was obviously wasted and she asked if I was his girlfriend. He laughs and says that I am his new friend and then leans over and kisses me.

That was that moment. You know...the black and white into color. The hearing songs differently moment. The glass is full not empty moment. That moment that gives you hope that you might feel a true happiness for more than 3 seconds in your life. I remember these things-
1. He had the softest lips that have ever touched mine. In fact, in that moment I couldn't think of anything else but those lips. As we all know, great kisses are about the moment and feeling. Feeling not feelings. And not thinking about anything else. I guess I am used to kisses in my past where all I could think about was "Do I have broccoli in my teeth? Is my lipstick getting smeary? Has this guy ever used lip balm in his life? Did I turn off my hair straightener? I need to pick up some socks." Yuck. I had nothing else in my mind in that moment. That's the way kisses should happen.
2. I was surprised by the forwardness that he exhibited with this move. He, up till that point had seemed hmmm...how do I put this? I don't really know how to explain it. It wasn't distant, it definitely wasn't that smooth either, it was guarded. Guarded is a good word for it. I remember him keeping a comfortable distance, not physically necessarily but verbally. I think most of the time he listened to me talk. Anyone who knows me and reads this knows my habit of when feeling the slightest bit of being out of my element completely running off at the mouth. Oh...and alcohol helps that too. I'm sure I talked his ear off and somehow he still wanted to hang out...wierd. I'm not used to guys that actually want to listen to what I have to say. And I'm not sure how to react to people who listen to me and don't really talk back a whole lot. So, I was a bit surprised by the kiss. Pleasantly.

When the kiss ended, he turned back to the girl and she asked if that was the first kiss laughing and bubbling alcohol out of every pore. He told her it was and turned back to me smiling. That's when I saw it again. The thing that had started this earlier in the evening. That smile. You know the kind of smile when someone's eyes actually light up. He has one of those. I notice these things about people. I guess they are all clues to whether someone is a true soul or not. That's something else I learned from Anne, the theory of true souls. People that generally mean to do good in the world. I immediately thought him to be one of these people because of that smile and those eyes. You can just tell.

I can't say the world stopped but I can say it slowed down for a moment. That doesn't happen to me very often. We're world works pretty quick for the most part. I've not had a kiss that stopped my in my tracks in a very, very long time. And not one that was quite that unexpected.

So, after a few more conversations and kisses then came that point in the evening. He was riding on the other bus and it was time for them to take off. Our bus call was a bit later cause I wanted to make sure our crazy ass bus driver wasn't gonna kill us from lack of REM. He explained he had to get to the bus and the words flew out of my mouth before I even knew what happened. I didn't even think, it just was there. "I don't want you to leave yet."

Ummm..now, this can be taken in two ways. The first is that I am some roadwhore that wants to get laid. The second is that I am just truly enjoying myself and don't want it to be over. I was praying with everything in me the moment it came out that he knows it is option 2. Girls on the road can be somewhat dangerous territory. There are two types and they follow along with what I wrote just moments ago. I am not Type 1. I don't date guys in the bands. I haven't dated a guy in the crew since I actually started doing this as a career. It's just bad for your reputation and I've seen and heard too much living out here the way I do. Its not generally the kind of thing that I want following me around and I just don't trust people. So, when the words flew out my mouth i was sure that I had committed the cardinal sin. He was going to think I was "one of those girls."

Somehow...that's not what happened. He asked me what I wanted him to do. I asked if he wanted to stay on our bus. He asked me if I wanted him to stay on our bus. I answered yes... WHAT???..

I am standing in the bar listening to the words come out of my mouth and thinking- "What in the hell are you doing?" But there was something that just told me that was what I wanted. And I'm kind of at a point that meeting someone that doesn't completely irritate the shit out of me happens so rarely that I had to give it a shot and see what happened.

So, he grabbed his bag off the bus and thew it on our bus. We ended up staying there hanging out with everyone that was on the bus. Eventually they realized that he was staying and without anything being said probably just laughed to themselves since it's a little out of character for me. We hung out and laughed and did what you do on the bus after an after-party for a while and I decided it was time for me to sleep. It kind of hit me like a ton of bricks. I was exhausted. So, he followed me and crawled into my little bunk.

That's all you get. Sorry. I'm pretty detailed but not that detailed :)

The next morning I felt the bus jerk to a stop, as our bus did on a pretty regular basis. I attempted to quietly crawl out of the bunk over him...impossible. He woke up and asked where I was off to. I tried to explain the wonders that are my sleep patterns to him quickly and quietly but it's not easily understood so he just got up and said he was coming with me as I babbled at 7AM. I wandered into the truck stop and straight to where I smelled the coffee brewing. 1 large black coffee, please. He wandered into the convenience store and found fudge. Not just small pieces- logs of fudge. Who eats fudge for breakfast? That guy :) So, we sit down. Coffee is awful. Fudge is not good either. Screw it, lets crawl back in the bunk. After a quick stop at the bathroom where while waiting for him outside I discovered a fake tattoo machine and bought him the most amazing fake tattoo that I could find, we crawled back to bed.

A few hours later we landed in Glasgow. I flipped on my hat as the driver parked even after I told him that was a bad idea to park that early. Whatever. I'll deal with the getting yelled out. Fuck it. Some days you gotta pick your battles. How often am I gonna end up on tour with that band anyways. really? Haha. I stumble into the venue and realize the shower situation and think to myself...fuck! I need a shower The bands budgets were pretty small so hotel rooms and the bus weren't an option. But...he looked at me and my misery and said "I'm getting us a room." I decided to get the band a room too since we had to fly the next day back home. I wouldn't wanted to be stuck on a plane next to the smelly band kid. I had some things I needed to get done like getting yelled at so I checked the band in and went to take my beating and took care of some other things. I got to the room that he has given me the key too and crawled onto the bed exhausted. He crawled up next to me and for another minute in time, I was content again. He told me he had meetings but to get comfy and take a nap and with that he was gone. I crawled into the shower and I remember standing there trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Had I stepped into some alternate universe where all the sudden good things happen to me? Cause if you know the general direction of my life, you know that bad luck tends to follow me. And the past 12 hours had kind of seemed to good to be true. I showered and just kept wondering how this was all gonna go down. I curled up in bed and before I knew it was asleep. Sleep doesn't happen for me easily. So, to not really remember trying to fall asleep is strange. It's a relief that doesn't happen often.

I woke up pretty briefly to him beside me for a few minutes. Then he was off to another meeting. At some point I woke up and realized I had stuff that needed to be done. So, up it was. For about an hour I attempted to keep my mind on the fact that we had a show to do. Not an easy task. My brain is riddled with ADD and has been for many, many years. I have tried drugs, I've tried exercises...you name it. My brain runs 100 miles a minute 15-17 hours a day. Focus is not an ability that I have often. So, when there is something that stays on my mind, it must mean that I subconsciencely really want it there. Luckily, he stepped back into my afternoon and wanted to take me to lunch. Now, this is the part where you might throw up. Cause this is just getting ridiculous. We walked for a bit and for some reason I didn't have much appetite and couldn't really decide what sounded good. But he said that we were definitely going to this place to have dessert. I suggested that we just have dessert for lunch and he thought that was a great idea. Another one of those moments when you think to yourself- "I like being a grown up cause I can have dessert for lunch." Haha. CookieShake, there were like 1 million options for shakes. Seriously. I had a carrot cake shake and he had a peanut butter chocolate truffle shake. Oh, and did I mention they come hot or cold? And cookies. A cookie with Rolo's cooked into it. Perfection. We kissed like high schoolers and ate ice cream and giggled. I had a Meg Ryan/Andy Garcia When A Man Loves a Woman carrot cake moment. If you don't understand the reference, you need to rent the movie ASAP. One of the saddest, most touching, heartbreaking, terrifying, romantic and beautiful movies I have ever watched. It's possible it meant so much due to the time in my life I was watching it alot but I still hold it in very high regards. And the carrot cake bit...it's amazing, it's how the hopeless romantic in me still thinks it's supposed to be.

Back to work and in efforts to keep things professional we agreed to act professional at the club, haha. So, with that being said, we sneaked off back to the hotel after my band was done and again you don't get to know about that part. I headed back to deal with well, the things that I deal with on a daily basis like the bus power getting ripped out and the battery on the bus dying. As I attempted to let the drunk drummer boy go get someone as the door was stuck open and I sat there freezing, the man again came to my rescue. He grabbed the other bus driver since ours slammed the door in my face at the hotel and told me I was crazy. The other bus driver fixed the bus and I decided to go and try and get a few z's since our bus call wasn't till 4. I felt him slide into bed with me and we laid there just talking and being with each other knowing that there wasn't much time left to do that. We fell asleep in each other arms and as I was drifting off I wondered how things would be in the morning at the airport. We had discussed it earlier and he was staying with us on the bus again and riding to the airport in London with us. He had a few more days left in London so it worked out perfectly.

4AM came and went and we crawled onto the bus and into the bunk. At 730AM, the driver woke us and let us know that we were at the airport. I collected my stuff off the bus in a hurried frenzy and bid Juergon, the crazy German busdriver, a fond farewell. We all popped into the terminal and I made sure everyone had everything. Luke and I were leaving from a different terminal so I had to make sure they were all set. He started saying his goodbyes to everyone and I felt my stomach flipping over again just the same as when I walked up to him and BassBoy in the bar. This was kind of the part I was dreading. I guess within minutes I would find out how this was all gonna go down. I wasn't sure that I was ready for the answer. I actually wasn't sure that i wanted the answer. Before I realized it, he was standing by me and wrapped his arms around me, gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek and said to me- "Keep in touch."

"Keep in touch."

and that was it. He turned around and walked away. I didn't watch him walk away because I had tears welling up in my eyes for a second and I couldn't cry in front of the band so I turned in a completely different direction. I stood there for a few seconds to compose myself and then turned to wish the band goodbye. I gave them all big hugs and climbed into a cab with Luke to get to our terminal.

This was not how I wanted to part. At all. After the Cinderella weekend I was having I should of expected it though, right? I should of known that when things are too good to be true, they are. I sat in the cab beating myself up mentally. How could of been that dumb, really? It was a EuroFling I should of know. I mean come on, different countries...things are different. Settings are different. People are different. Right? What was I expecting really? Luke and I had a quick convo and he attempted to give me some guy advice. At that point I wasn't really sure what was going thru my head. If you can imagine when the lottery is on TV and they have that big ball with all the balls in it that spin around really fast and they pick the winners out of it. The inside of my head looked like the big ball. 90,000 thoughts flying in every direction. Every conversation, every little things said that I thought might have a different meaning, every kiss, every touch, every smile, every glance out the corner of the eye, every ...everything.

We hit the terminal and Luke and I parted ways to our separate airlines. I stood in line for an hour and then I decided it was time to do something. I guess I don't give in that easy. I sent him an email. I asked that if he knew of some incredible shrinking device that he shrink the man that I met that week so I could pack him in my carry on luggage. He replied. It went along these lines- "I felt like I was going the wrong way when I walked away from you this morning. Maybe we can see each other again. We'll talk when I get back to LA." Not exactly what I was shooting for but I guess it was better than nothing...maybe.

I got into the security line finally and stood there becoming more and more despondent as the minutes ticked by. I had this kind of odd feeling. A coldness in my brain and my body. I realized I was exhausted and needed to stop thinking. I had to find a way to do that. Finally got thru security and headed to the smokers lounge. On the way there I ran into some familiar faces. The other band we were on tour with. They accompanied me to the lounge. We had a few cigs, some goodbye conversation and I bid them farewell. Luke had run into them as well so we decided to do some airport wandering. We wandering into the duty free shop and wandered upon free shots of Johnny Walker Green Label. We had a few...by a few, I mean 2 shots of straight whiskey is more than enough to fuck me up. And it did the trick. I hugged Luke and went to my gate. I sat down and looked out the window and couldn't help but think that this isn't the way that it's supposed to end.

There's supposed to be some giant movie ending to this, right? I'm supposed to be sitting at my gate or walking right thru to get on my plane and he's supposed to come running yelling my name saying we can't leave this way....right? I'm supposed to turn around at the last minute and decide to track him down in London. Maybe I'm supposed to be on the plane and look up and see him standing in the window inside the terminal and insist upon getting off the plane...SOMETHING"S SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN, RIGHT?

They call my flight number and we start boarding...I think Im crushed but I'm not sure thanks to Johnny Walker.

I'm next in line.

They take my ticket.

There's a problem with it and they tell me to hold on.

They come back, it's fine.

They scan it again thru the machine and it beeps and spits out my ticket stub.

I start down the hallway to the plane.

Yep, Johnny Walkers wearing off and I am crushed.

my phone rings.
i look down.
Caller ID- "The Man"





Hands Are Shaking Cold, These Hands are Meant to Hold...Part II
So, everyone wanted Part II- so here it is. Part III is in the works. Like every great movie (proved by George Lucas and Kevin Williamson), it's a trilogy. It seems like an ending, but not so much...so much more to the story.


So, here I am sitting on the bus. I'm leaving Zurich, Switzerland right now and heading to Meerhout, Belgium. Where the hell is that, you ask? I have no idea. I go where the bus takes me. So, you got the gist of things on the last chapter of this story about what I do but I guess I should elaborate.

I deal with the shit that no one else wants to deal with.

Usually bands have 85,000 different people that work for them. Managers, Assistant Managers, Artist Developement Reps, Booking Agents, Business Managers, Project Managers, Travel Agents, In House publicists, outsourced publicists, lawyers. There's plenty more but most people would have no idea what they are or what they do so why elaborate. I organize all those people. I get info from all those angels and put it into a form that I can understand so that everything happens for a band when they are on tour the way that it should. So, my title is Tour Manager. It should be God. Throw into the mix other people when the band is on tour like bus drivers, sound guys, guitar techs, drum techs, merch handlers, etc. Alot of people have asked me the question "So, what do you do all day?" I would love to be able to wrap that up in a pretty little package. Instead, I will give you a few examples of things that come out of people's mouths regularly to me-

"Hey Misty, can you find me a massuse before showtime and find a way to get me there?"
"Hey Misty, I new to get to guitar center for some stuff."
"Hey Misty, the van and trailer are gone. I think you should call 911, they might have been stolen."
"Hey Misty, I forgot to tell you that we have a videographer coming with us to Europe."
"Hey Misty, I'm outta toothpaste, can I borrow yours?"
"Hey Misty, my girlfriend needs a flight to LA when we are there, can you take care of it?"
"Hey Misty, I need some space, can you get me a room of my own tonight?"
"Hey Misty, they need us to move the bus for some reason and the driver is already at the hotel..."

Now, these dont seem like hard questions unless you add in the fact that the nearest massuse is 20 miles away and the runners are all out already, guitar center is closed already and it's half an hour till doors, the van and trailer were stolen, the trip to Europe was in 2 days, my toothpaste is special and costs $20 a tube, your girlfriend sucks, the hotel is completely sold out and the driver is asleep for the next 10 hours.

My job is to find ways to fix these problems. And I do it. Daily.

People also ask me how I got into this line of work. I ask myself that question daily. I used to be a regular cubicle dweller just like 90% of the world. Then one day my mind changed. I didn't want to be stuck like that for the rest of my life. I would rather be stuck working for people that still have a little bit of passion left in their souls. With that passion, usually comes other things like obsession, insanity, compulsiveness, awkwardness and forgetfulness. People that are creatively driven are usually not ambidextrious enough to be detailed. That's why they find people like me. I am detailed. Sometimes to a fault. But I also have an insane need for creativity in my life. I don't have a creative bone in my body. So, I let other provide the creativity in my life and I provide them the details they need. I usually grow a strong affinity for the people that I work for. Some of my best friends are people that have been in bands that I have worked for. I love most (note, I say most..not all.) of them with all my heart. There are things about each of them that is so special to me. I can give you examples with the last band I worked for- the lead singer- a young girl still in the throws of trying to be young and figure out what she wanted in life. She has been thrown into this at a very young age and when I met her was at the point of trying to find new things that made her tick. I saw so much of myself in her. I made a lot of the same mistakes in my past that she was in the process of making. But I turned alright and I believe she will to. I let her make those mistakes because those mistakes made me the grounded person that i am now. She will find her way. She has an incredibly sensitive in tune mind. That's what I loved about her. And as tomboy as she was, we could always talk about boys. Haha. The bass player- one of the funniest people I have ever encountered. Priorities in different places when it came to his personal life but so driven when it came to his professional life. I had a line written here but I can't bring myself to publish it for fear of the repercussions, haha. But he had amazing ways of explaining himself and a quite unusual upbringing that somehow made it all make sense. You couldn't fault him. And I appreciated the fact that he always had total honesty with me. The drummer. I can say about him is that I loved the way he challenged me to be the stronger person. And the guitar player. One of the most childlike creatures I have ever encountered. He could make you smile on the day that your boyfriend broke up with, make you laugh on the day that you got into a fight with your best friend, make you giggle when you knew you were in a lot of trouble. I appreciated his amazing ability to change my mood and know exactly what he needed to do to make that happen. Each of them amazing in their own ways. Each of them still what I consider to be my best friends. I don't live with them in a van anymore and I don't know how long they will be a band but I miss them incredibly everyday.

That's what makes this weird and difficult. I'm tired but don't know if it's time to call the game or not. It's almost like getting to the point when there's 10 seconds left in the game and turning the TV off. I have moved up to the next logical step in my career path. When I started this it was with a local band in Kansas City. 4 dudes that loved being in a band. That changed over the years but when they made the decision to break up after a few years, it made sense. They just couldn't get past that step of having a few hundred people in their part of the country come see them thursday- sunday. After them I worked developing a younger band for a few months. I took them on their first coast to coast tour and had the best time in the world. I like pet projects like that but knew that my career if this was gonna be it needed to move on. So, I got a job working for some old friends of mine that were on a major label. My first experience with that also included touring in preparation of a new record coming out. It was in a van with 2 hotel room a night mostly Super 8 and Days Inn. There wasn't a lot of money but I loved em and wanted the experience so I took the job. After 4 months of that, they broke up. The record didn't do well, their relationship with their label was rough. It just didn;t make sense any more. After being home for 2 days, I got a call from another band who I had met a few years earlier. They had been on a long break dealing with severing ties with their old label and getting a new one. They had just completed a new record. So, there I was again. I kind of lowballed myself money-wise again because I just loved the band and the music they made and wanted to work with them sooooo bad. I spent a year and a half with them. Another van and trailer tour with more hotel rooms, much nicer this time around and a little bit better money. They had to take some time off to write a new record. So, that left me again with that search for a job. I spent a few months taking some time off and just getting back in tune with myself. You forget how much you sacrifice yourself when you are taking care of other people for a living. So, after a few months of sending out a resume here and there I ended up in Europe with the last band. They got invited for a European tour and decided...yeah, why not. During that tour I got a call about my current gig. One of my favorite bands had found my resume somewhere and called me. Yeah, they called me. Really? 10 people including a full crew meaning all I had to do was Tour Manage (no merch, no stage managing, no guitar teching!), bus tours, first tour being in Europe, a lot more money. Finally! Maybe that break I have been waiting for. So, I took it.

Did I mention that tour in Europe is when I met "the man"?

You've read that story already. Now, When I left you, you were with me in the airport, crushed, boarding my plane back to New York City. I was to get to NYC, have dinner with Liz and stay with her that night and then drive with her to Norfolk, Virginia the next day to meet up with my new tour. I was hopping back in the van DIY style with some friends from LA on their first tour. Remember how I love pet projects? I love those girls and would bend over backwards to help them anyday. Again, some of my best friends.

Babbling. back to the point.

So, there I was on the tarmac and my phone vibrated. I looked down. It was the man. My hands started to shake. Should I answer it. Was this the call that I has been waiting for? Was this the big movie ending that I had been anticpating? Well, the only way I was gonna figure out was to answer the phone.

me- "ummmm...hi."
him- "hi. where are you?"
me- " boarding my plane. where are you?"
him- "on my way to the airport..."

WAIT. Did I hear that correct? On the way to the airport? Maybe it was my big movie ending. Maybe he was on his way back for me. Really? Was this really happening?

him- "I need to tell you something."
me- "ok, shoot-"
him- "I am heading back to LA today. I wasn't supposed to go back until Sunday."
me- "alright. ummm....why?"
him- "Well...I was supposed to be spending the weekend in London with a girl. She flew in from Germany this morning. I went from the airport to the hotel and didn't know what I was doing. I guess the minute that i saw her, I knew I couldn't stay there. So, I told her I met someone this weekend and then called the airline and changed my flight."

I almost threw up. Right there...as I was getting on the plane. My stomach flip flopped and my mouth got dry and I got that feeling you get right before you throw up. That shiver that goes through your whole body. I had it. All I was hearing were the words "girl, weekend in London, and hotel." I stopped for a minute to collect my thoughts before reacting. This is a little trait that I have learned in the last few months that seems to be working in my favor.

me- "Well, ummm..."
him- "You don't have to say anything."
me- "no, i think I should. I am really glad that you are not spending the weekend with some other girl in London."
him- chuckle "well, I'm glad you're glad."

that was all we spoke of it. We discussed me turning around and spending the weekend in London. Not a good idea. I had a job to do. So, we agreed for me to call him later that night when he was home in LA and I was temporarily home in NYC. I'm not gonna lie. I never thought about the look on her face when he told her that he was leaving. I never thought about the fact that he had these plans to meet her the entire time he was with me having Cinderella weekend. I never thought about the how expensive or difficult it is to change an international flight in a matter of hours. I never thought about any of the pro's or con's to the situation. I didn't want to think that there was anything that could ruin the image in my head of the man I had met.

I'm gonna skip some stuff. Cause its mostly just the awkward first few telephone conversations that are weird and you don't know what to say or what not to say. If you are anything like me, it's even more awkward cause I hate talking on the phone. About Day 2 of all of this though, he sent me a text that read something like this- "April 24, really?" That was the day that I was supposed to be returning to Los Angeles from the tour. It was nearly a month. I called him a bit later and the conversation went something like "I can't wait that long." to "yeah, neither can I." So, within a few days, he has booked me a ticket to LA. Luckily I had 4 days off in the tour so it worked. We had a week to wait to see each other again.
Wait. He booked me a ticket. Did you catch that part? I've never had someone need or want to see me that much. I've never needed or wanted to see someone that much either.
Ok, back to the story. Over the course of the next week, we exchange texts a million times a day and the phone calls increase. We're at the point we can't go for 5-6 hours without talking. This Cinderella story has started turning into a something a little bit more realistic. I genuinely cannot get enough of this guy. I think about him constantly. Small things remind me of him. I notice that I have "mentionitis." That is when you equate something in every situation to someone. Every conversation I seemed to be having would get a "Yeah, last night he said..."


So, I did it. I hopped on the plane. My flight was delayed a few hours which just left a few more hours to be nervous.. But each time I got nervous in the least little bit, I drug out my phone and looked thru some of the messages he had sent me. Things like "There are times in the day I feel compelled to talk to you...and they are happening more and more," "The world seems like a nicer place since I met you," "Do you have any idea how good you make me feel?" and "You are very important to me, you are the reason that I smile. What can be more important that that?" How can you be nervous when you're reading things like that? I was officially smitten. And I was pretty sure he was too. It was weird. I couldn't do anything in the day it seemed without thinking about him. My focus was definitely not on my job or anything that I had coming up except seeing him. So, I walked off the plane and quickly to the baggage area. I was about halfway down the elevator when i saw that smile. You know...that smile that I told you about already. The one where his eyes light up. He wrapped his arms around me and I felt a warmness. I guess some people call that a feeling of comfort. I'm not sure cause I'm not sure I had ever really felt it before. We stood in the airport waiting for my bag as I just enjoyed those lips again....and that smile.

We headed to his house and I met his dog. Now, the dog in itself is pretty amazing. Makes you wanna curl up and cuddle with him for hours on end, cuddle with the dog not the man ;) Then of course, I couldn't wait any longer to have his hands all over me.

Off for some dinner and the weekend progressed. He worked the next day and came home early. We went out for some dinner and had a great night. It was the first time in over 4 years that I felt like a normal human being again. I didn't have anyone else to worry about, I had no cares in the world. Just him and I. I woke up early in the mornings and worked, he worked, came home...we did things that normal people that do not live in vans or buses do. We had a dinner date with one of his old friends, went to a movie, went walking around the pier. Did I mention he took me on a ferris wheel. If you know me, you probably know how much I love ferris wheels. I'm not sure why I love them so much, I just do. He took me on one. My last day there we met up with some of my friends and went to the horse track. I liked the fact that he met my friends and didn't think they were too weird. My last evening there, we went to dinner at my favorite restaurant. That's when it happened.

I had to go and blow it.

I had to try to figure out what was gonna happen from there. So, I asked. God, why??? Why do I do these things? Why can't I just let things progress naturally? But no...in my brain, things don't work that way. So, when i didn't get an answer that I deemed appropriate, I just clammed up. Like normal. Emotional Shutdown. That's how I tend to refer to this wonderful charactoristic of mine. We went home to his house and spooned on the couch and went to bed together for one last night. I tried pretend that this odd feeling of normalicy that I was liking way too much was just something new in my head. That was the only way I could explain how "at home" I felt.

The thing I enjoyed most about him is that he understands that silence is okay. My day is filled with people talking just to hear the sound of their own voices. He's the kind of person that doesn't say anything if it's not something useful. There are some people you can share silence with and some people that can't handle it.

That little tidbit kinda came out of nowhere, deal with it.

So, at 4AM- he took me to the airport. I gave him a kiss and a hug and turned and walked away. Walking away is hard to begin with, but walking away from something that unsettles you deep to your core is a whole different thing. My mind has been so very set on what I wanted for so very long. There has been no time for anyone but me and my bands. I had a brief "thing" with someone last year for about 6 months but it was very "on my time." Everything has been "on my time" for the last 4 years. Don't get me wrong, I am a pretty selfish person to begin with, but at the same time kinda of selfless. I know that it is not and has never been fair to someone to try to make them understand my life and what I do. Then again, I have never met anyone that made me question it either. He made me question it. For the first time, I wondered if this was something that I planned on doing for a lot longer. I had been so focused for a few years on trying to get ahead in this field. I never realized that I had sacrificed alot of my own happiness for it. There were points in the weekend that for the first time in a very, very long time...I truly felt happy. My brain wasn't focused on 10 zillion other things, just the person standing in front of me and the reflection in the mirror.

So, I sat on the plane and decided to start drinking. Cause that's always a good idea. So, I drank myself into a stupor and hopped off the plane and back into the rocket van. The girls grabbed me a vodka drink as soon as we arrived at the venue and I kept it up all night. Why, you ask? Because I don't like dealing with internal battles. I don't know how to actually. It's something that I have never been good at. I trust myself to make decisions for everyone else around me but never for myself. I never feel like I have enough information to make a decision for myself. I think part of my problem is that I don't want to be able to blame myself if it's the wrong decision. The eternal fear of failure thing. I don't want anyone to ever know that I have made a wrong decision, people might think i don't have my shit together as much as I appear to.

So, I drank. and drank. for like 16 hours. To some people, that's no big deal. I am not one of those people. My guts hurt. My head hurt...and my heart hurt. It wasn't even so much the man that was making that happen. We spent 4 days together, I didn't expect him to propose. It was my unsteadiness. My inability to be confident in the decisions that I had made over the past few weeks. I mixed my two worlds together. I accepted a new job and met a man all in the same week. What in the world made me think that these two things would someone work out to my benefit together? I guess it would be different if my job didn't take me all over the world.

So, as the days went on...the man and I went back and forth as did the hangovers from the previous nights drinks. From infatuation to frustration. I left again for Europe with my new gig and we discussed that he thought this was going to be even more difficult than before. In my head I kept trying to think of ways to make him hold on until I could straighten out my brain. What if I hated this new band? What if I absolutely couldn't work with them? What if they were the most amazing people on the planet and what if all the sudden they were the biggest band in the world (yeah...cause that's gonna happen...right.)? Then maybe factors like this would make my decision easier. Maybe, just maybe.

Nope. So middle of the road it's not even funny. They're not exceptionally funny or fun, not boring, not mean, not hard to deal with, not a cakewalk either. Just normal. So normal. So, then I began to think that might be it. I've been around normal, crazy, funny, weird. Maybe I'm looking for exceptional. Maybe I'm tired of the ordinary. Maybe I feel like this job is settling. Maybe this phase has made me happy enough for long enough. Maybe it hasn't run it's course yet. How am I to know? The only thing that I can think is that there is something else that is making me feel really good and happy. Something that doesn't feel like settling. Something that feels like a new adventure. Something that feels warm. Something that makes my head spin again. Something that gives me something to look forward to.

So, that's where I am. I have explained all of this to the man in small bits and pieces. I have this fear that if I tell him that I think being on the road is maybe not something i want to do that much anymore, he might be scared off. Sure, he made me question my path but he isn't making me change it. Only I can do that. I have to be the one to make that decision and deal with the failing if for some reason something happens and things don't work out like I want them to. I guess the only question left is am I ready for it yet. I'm not good at saying goodbye to things. And I always have to have a backup plan. I have to figure out what's next. and that may take some time to do. I'm hoping that he can be patient for a bit.

And if he can't..well, I guess that just answers one more question for me.

I do know that I like lazy Saturdays, sleeping in with him and the dog, The Griddle and ferris wheel rides. And I'd like to have them in my life for a while.




Somedays I have so much to say, I don't know where to start or finish.
I know that this is like 2 blogs a day for the past few days but I guess I've just been feeling inspired to write. It's keeping my mind off things and on things. I'm not sure which i prefer. Anyways- here's another one.

So, I'm really bad at this part. The saying goodbye part. I have this tendency to hold onto things longer than I should. This isn't my forte, I guess. I sit and think about fun stuff and find myself thinking about all the good charactorists that a person has. I forget about the reasons why I have had to say goodbye. I guess it's my attempt at trying to remember that person in a good light. So, here I sit in Lauren's room on my computer on a Sunday alone thinking about all those good things. Most of you know that I am a John Cusack about things. I like to make lists. So, I made one and learned some stuff in the process-

Top 5 fun things to remember about "the man"-
1. The truck stop the morning after I met him. You've already read a little bit about it if you read Part 1. But in hindsight, it was one of the funnier things that I guess happened between us. I woke up way too early and ended up waking him up in the process. I'm sure I looked like hell but I threw my hair up and needed coffee. The truck stop was devoid of any character at all. I headed to the coffee and followed him into the store. He picked up his fudge and we retreated to a table in the back. I sat trying to drink the extremely hot shitty coffee and he ate fudge at 7am. We were both kinda giggly for it being that early in the morning. I tried to explain to him the monster that I can be in the AM and he just didn't seem to believe it. We finally gave up on the fudge and tar coffee and stopped at the bathroom. While he was inside I spotted a fake tattoo machine. We all know my love of tattoo's so I headed straight over. There were dragon's and tiger's and even a warlock. I really wanted the warlock. No luck. I think it was a dragon that the machine spit out at me. I thought to myself it was the perfect gift at a truck stop at 7AM. So, when he emerged from the bathroom I bestowed upon him his newest tattoo. He giggled and took it I don't think fully understanding that I am a person that loves small thoughts. I love giving people small things to make them laugh. I love tacky, goofy gifts. That's who I am- a person that is in love with the humor of life. I love people that do the same. I don't need grand gestures. I need little "I was thinking of you's..."

2. The bar in Glasgow. The minute that I knew I was being talked about and that something could happen with the situation. I immediately dove in headfirst with smiles and laughs. He was smiling, i was smiling, we were talking, we were kissing. You know...that first night excitement of getting to know each other. It's an excitement that happens in the best of ways. I remember once being in a bar in New York City with a boy that I had been getting to know for a week or so. We were hanging out and everything was going swimmingly (one of his favorite words). At some point we were standing at the bar and I leaned over and kissed him. We both laughed and said "Did that just happen? Yes, it did...let's do it again." The rest of the night there was the nervous excitement that presents itself in a way that makes you bubble. Does that make sense? Everything seems new and you kinda feel like you just did the first plunge on a roller coaster. I love that feeling. I can't get enough of it. When things seem to get too serious and I feel like that feeling is going away, i bail. When things aren't fun and there's more anxiety than excitement I decide at some point that my brain can't handle having to think about things too much. In that bar in Glasgow, that excitement was in the air and it followed me around for weeks. I guess I need to figure out how to recapture that feeling.

3. The Racetrack. When I came to visit him the first time we spent the last day at the horsetrack with my friends. I had never been to a horsetrack before. I love new experiences. I love doing things that I don't know the first thing about. Horsetracks are definitely one of them. We met up with my friends and he started to explain to me the way that things worked. I like when people can teach me things. I like to think that I teach people things every now and again too. So, with that we placed our first bets. I lost. But I laughed and he laughed. and we realized that we were really having fun together. I realized at that point that the man knew a lot of things and I could learn from him. Maybe racetracks aren't what I was hoping to learn about but he knew things that I don't have in my life. It took something as small as a day at the races to realize that he knew things about balance in life, tranquility and habit. Those are all things that I need to learn a lot more about and i was hoping he would be the one to teach me.

4. Sending him Part 1 when I was in Paris. I write a lot. I do it for so many different reasons. It's pretty rare that I feel like sharing it. I started writing a story on the bus one night about how the man and I met. When I finished it, I reread it and realized that it was actually pretty good. I debated in my head about sending it to him. Then I decided that it would be kind of cool if he could see things from my perspective. So, when i got to Paris off the bus, i sent it. My phone rang and it was him. He had just finished reading it. I could hear the smile in his voice. Knowing that something I had written could have that affect on someone made me think about the fact that I don's share this stuff very often. So, I've started being a lot more free with it. After all, they are just feeling and emotions. Everyone has them and if the world shared them a lot more often, it'd be a better place. In that, I also started expressing my emotions a little more freely. I decided that maybe being emotionally closed off from people or playing peoples games is not really how I wish to continue life. It's kind of weird how you see relationships change when you do that. I've started to tell people a whole lot more that I miss them and value them in my life. And instead of being scared of the answers that I am going to get, I've started asking questions about how people feel about me. And I've stopped being scared of people's response to my emotions. I just sent an email that was pretty difficult to send, but I did it anyways. I haven't gotten a response and I might not. But I can now at least say that I tried. All of that from a smile over the phone.

5. The day in Venice. When I was here the first time, he took me for breakfast and then to Venice and Santa Monica. We walked around the promenade and went on the pier. He took me on the ferris wheel. As we walked around we didn't talk too much. We still didn't talk too much on the ferris wheel. I had all these thoughts running thru my head at first. Things I wanted to say, things I wanted to share with him. For some reason, i didn't. At some point I had realized that I was truly just enjoying my self being with him. There wasn't the need for idle conversation. I could look at him and grab his hand and just "be." So many people in this world are so full of things that they want to say because they like the sound of their own voices. I used to be one of those people. I loved being the life of the party and telling stories and making everyone in the room laugh. 2 people in this world taught me that you can enjoy yourself the same without all of that. Him and Anne. Anne and I had a way of being around each other that we traded off nights. Some nights were my night to make everyone laugh and some nights were her nights to be in the spotlight. She was the first person that taught me it's okay to listen sometimes and just enjoy your surroundings. He was the second person to teach me that it's okay to be still. And again...all of that from a ride on a ferris wheel.

I guess that some people go through their lives and never get moments like this. that's why I think about them when things seem to be over. I like to look back on things that I have learned or things that have maybe made me a little bit different. I'm still growing up at the age of 30. For a long time I thought that was a weird concept. Not anymore. i love the thought that I am still learning. I'm still trying to figure out what makes me tick and the people that are in my everyday life help me figure that out. He was one of those for a short moment in time. I wished it was for longer and I can't say that I am completely okay with it but it sure does make it feel a little better to look back and smile at some things.

xoxo,
m

PART 3-




I guess i could fall for you...cause I fall for lots of bad jokes...
Current mood: blank
I'm drunk ight now and probably shouldnt post this but I promised myself when i started writing that I'd never censor myself, so..


So, here I sit...on the plane back to tour. 4 days of quasi-normality...kinda. Hold on, my bloody marys on the way.

Once again the words ring true. I've said it time and time again. Beth Hart wrote a song called LA Song a few years ago and I'm positive she had me in mind when she wrote it. There's a few lines that I reorganize from time to time that go a little something like this-

"It's all she loves It's all she hates it's all too much for her to take she cant be sure where it ends or where the good life begins

She met a man, she met a man he took her in and fed her all the same bullshit again she screamed and she screamed it's a different place but the same old thing

It's all I love, it's all I hate it's all too much for me to take I can't be sure where it begins or if the good life lies within?

Man, i gotta get outta this town I gotta get back on that plane i gotta get outta my pain I gotta get out of LA..."

So...I met a man.
I met him in Europe a few weeks ago. I was there for the day job...I mean the night job. Tour Managing Damone on a cross Europe tour. I met him in London. He showed up in the lobby of my hotel. Always a bad sign, meeting a man in the lobby of your hotel. So, I didn't, I just looked like window shopping. I knew he was with the other band we were touring with so I figured I had a few days to meet him. I was in no rush. I met him later that afternoon at the venue when I realized that he actually worked for my band too... and it went from there. Before I knew it we were sharing a bunk on the bus in Glasgow and carrot cake shakes and hotel rooms in Nottingham.

Skip forward 2 whole days...he books me a flight to LA on some off days on the tour I joined when I hit the states. He cant wait the month it will take for me to be back in LA. What?!? This kind of thing does not happen to me. really.

"The normal hesitation is gone...and I really gravitate to your will, I never had this taste in my past. Oh, you're not old and you're not familiar...you're new...so new...and you're consuming me violently and your ever shamelessly tempting me...cause I never had this taste in my past. Oh you're different, so different from the former..."

Okay, rewind...I skipped some things. I should of known that this was off to a weird start as I was leaving London and got a phone call at the airport with an early morning confessional. He was supposed to be spending the weekend in London with another girl but had decided to come clean and let me know. And instead he was flying home to LA and skipping the "next..." state of mind. I was so happy for a moment in time. I thought "wow...honesty..haven't heard that in a while." It never flew through my mind that he had these plans with her when he met me. And it also never occurred to me that it was a bit cold of him to completely bail on this girl and I sure didn't want to imagine the look on her face at the hotel when he told her he was leaving. I was in too much of a haze of hearing the all the right things and cookies and cuddling.

"How can I feel lucky on a day like today when I can't even breathe, I should put myself away and run. How can I feel lucky getting what I just received, took it in the ass. All the gravel and broken glass, those are scars that last. God, I love your smile. Breathless heaven, I'm gone. Does this make it alright?"

So, there I was. In LA. He smiled very brightly when I walked thru the airport towards him and called me "baby." I think that was the last real smile that I got in maybe 3 days. There were times that I truly felt just weird. Maybe it was not the best idea to fly and spend 4 days with a man you only met 10 days earlier at his house where there is no where for either of you to escape for any amount of quiet alone time. We had dinners out, double dates of sushi and movies with his old friends, ferris wheel rides at the pier, sex and uncomfortableness. Yep, makes no sense right? I don't get it either...skip to the most uncomfortable of all..."the talk" yesterdsy. I guess it's 10-x's easier to have it face to face but god damn, it's still the shittiest thing in the world to have to have, you never hear what you want. BTW- for my male readers- all a woman really ever wants to hear is that you like having her in your life. Most of us are not looking for a marriage proposal, a prenup, an "I LoveYou" or even your heart on a silver platter. A simple "I enjoy you being a part of my day" will suffice. I got "Well, we got past the hard part, I want to at least see you again," "Wonder when our paths will cross again?" and "I haven't had sex with anyone else since I met you." Ummm.....not exactly what I was looking for. Is that an accomplishment, btw?

"What's wrong baby, don't they treat you like they should? Did you take em for every penny that you could? We once walked out on the beach, and once I almost touched your hand. Don't you think I'm thinking? Driving the 405 past midnight, 9th and Ash on a Tuesday night...up the stairs at Weatherford, a ghost each place I hide. If you don't, why would you say so? If you don't honey why don't you just say so, cause I need this more than I ever did. Should of never started, ain't that way it always ends. There's so much I felt I should say, but even if your heart would listen, I don't think I could explain."



So, I'm guessing he liked the idea of me a whole lot more than me. I realize that it's so easy to fantasize that someone is perfect when they're not around. And with all things taken into account, he should be perfect on paper too. He's 40 ( finally someone older than me!), owns a house, has a dog, has a good job...but I also realized none of that matters when there's nothing to share with each other, no secrets to let each other in on, and just generally an awkward feeling. I kept thinking awkward would segway into comfort at some point. The last day we spent at the horsetrack with my friends and when I heard this phrase I realized there was the possibility of this not working cause my friends mean more to me than anything in this world. I learned my lesson once when I was married that you can't let that go by the wayside. "That's a great idea, perfect place for me to meet your friends without really having to talk to them..." Huh? And I realized that it had completely slipped all the way downhill when the last nights sexual encounter lasted all of 20 minutes and ended with "I'm gonna probably fall asleep soon so do you want to kiss me goodnight now?" That was maybe not what I was expecting on my last evening there but it let me in on more than most people could imagine.

"You called me from the room in your hotel, all for romance. And telling me how sorry you were leaving so soon and that you'll miss me sometimes when you're alone in your room...Do I feel lonely too?"
Well, I gave it a shot again. Something I havent done in a long time. I closed myself off for a long, long time for a reason. I don't like this feeling. It's kinda empty, kinda sad and usually filled with lots of vodka drinks. I think the last time I let this happen was over a year ago. I met a guy on tour that I never even so much as shared a kiss with but notheless broke my heart. I guess the one thing I have learned is that there are no Cinderella stories. All the mid day texts, sharing cookies in England, and I miss you's were all buildup for the breakdown. Cinderella doesn't exist. I wish someone could prove me wrong. I thought maybe he could. But we fell short...just like all the rest. There's a reason that she's a fairy tale and there's a reason I should of stayed a fairy tale to him. As I believed before I met him...love at first sight doesn't exist, only curiosity and lust and maybe sometimes desperation. I wish he could of proved me wrong, I thought he might be the one to do it but I stand corrected with the actions from today. So, back to square one...You can't win them all, even if I really secretly wanted to win this one.
"But, for now, we'll go on living separate lives."