Please, go listen to Schuyler Fisk and fall a bit in love with her. I have no idea when her solo album is coming out, but I promise you that she is worth a listen. Unfortunately I missed her when she was in town back in April. She was here with Colin Hay and Joshua Radin.
For some reason I wonder if things would have been different had I gone. I know that they probably wouldn’t…but I still can’t help but wonder if maybe I would’ve fallen into a greater insight or a different perspective.
This weekend was essentially a project in connecting with people from the past once again. I ended up hanging out with K last night at her apartment with Juris and some of her neighbors. A crazy and eclectic group of people which made the evening pretty memorable in general.
Saturday night was spent with a similar group for Sajjid and Rabia’s engagement party. As with most Pakistani celebrations, it was extravagant, shiny and long. But most excellent and with good dancing.
Here’s a picture of the group sans Berto.
Oh, and I ran twenty miles. Fuckin’ A. While I was beyond sore on Monday, there is a magic in seeing progress. Three months ago I was ten pounds heavier, drinking heavily, smoking regularly, and was proud of myself for running a mile.
Two days ago I ran twenty miles with excellent time.
This weekend’s playlist has been notably on the mellow side, but it’s good music nonetheless:
Regina Spektor – Samson
You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first , I loved you first
Beneath the stars came falling on our heads
But they’re just soft light
Your hair was long when we first met
Minus the Bear – Absinthe Party at the Fly Honey Warehouse
This light looks good on you
Damn sexy line.
Broken Social Scene – Anthems for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
One of the sweetest, most earnest pleas I’ve ever heard. Honest, crisp, simple, and wanting. Love? Perhaps. True? Always.
The Decemberists – Red Right Ankle
This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled
And how the skin was softly shed
And how it whispered, “Oh, adhere to me
For we are bound by symmetry
And whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb”
This is the story of your red right ankle
I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time. I’ve been trying to apply it to my own life and what I would say to a certain person. But on a broader level, isn’t that what relationships are all about? Isn’t that what she and I were supposed to be about? Connections stronger than most that even when separated or torn…they instinctively look for one another—the way I would reach for her in bed when I realized that I wasn’t holding her.
The process of it all is the glory of it. The fact that it exists is the grace of it. And by the very fact that it is such a natural occurrence, it’s just so easy to forget about the symmetry and the fact that this unit has moving pieces. It’s not until they break that one sees the perfection of a functioning unit. But how clichéd is all of that? “You don’t see what you have until it’s gone.” Dear god. But at the end of the day…it’s still there to see.
It’s said that wisdom is intellect and perception applied. At the end of the day—at the end of this in general—I’m hoping that I can say that I grew wise. As the good Eddie Vedder says
“And he who forgets will be destined to remember.”
No conclusion except for the obvious…and reflections on the past.
I was never fully there. I was never fully involved. In wedding plans, in the little things and in the big things. I always postponed big decisions for a “later” and I always believed that things weren’t happening now but that they would start at another point in time like law school or anything else. That’s why I waited on buying a ring or on seriously talking about moving in together. I was never fully invested and, to a large extent, always ready to bolt. I just never saw it.