Caterwauling

Rejected title: Mix tapes rule

“I had to escape

The city was sticky and cruel

Maybe I should have called you first

But I was dying to get to you

I was dreaming while I drove

The long straight road ahead, uh, huh

— Celine Dion (or Cyndi Lauper, take your pick), “I Drove All Night” —

As I promised myself to not divulge so many details of my personal life as I may have done at times in the past, I’d like to present a “mix tape” approach of my time in Pittsburgh as it pertains to Brat.

What I can say outright, though, is that it is possible to pick up where you left off with someone — we were laughing and teasing each other and, yes, kissing like not a day had passed. But on the other hand, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Would he have contacted me had I not moved four hours away from him? Would he have missed me the way he said he did? And is there anywhere to go from here? I went into this with open eyes — for a change, as I was always kind of purposely oblivious where he was concerned — and I walked away with those eyes open and focused on returning to the new life I have built — one that may or may not come to more fully include him.

We seemed to fall together so easily, so naturally. I believe it was after a round of darts with two other couples (not that I would ever call us a couple) — which he won for our team — that he grabbed me and kissed me. I was stunned and receptive all at the same time. And I will leave the details to my own memory and to your imagination, but I thought the following song summed up the nearly 24 hours that we spent together appropriately:

“Seems like such a long, long time

Since your body crossed my mind

But I think that you should know

It wasn’t I who had to go

 

‘Cause I would give everything that I own

I’d give you my love and this heart made of stone

The sun, the moon, the Earth, the sky

The motorcycle that I like to ride

I would do anything; I would give everything

To be your everything

 

But if ever you should stray

Just sing along and I will play

Or look into your hands

I’m slipping through them like a tiny grain of sand

 

I remember you

Do you remember me too?

It seems like such a long, long time

Since I held you near and called you mine

 

‘Cause I would give everything that I own

I’d give you my heart and this skin and these bones

The sun, the moon, the Earth, the sky

A brand new car that you and I could drive

I would do anything

I would give everything

To be your everything.”

— Stereofuse, “Everything” —

And leaving him that next day, the song on the radio:

“Remember the silence living in the dark

Remember the desperation in my heart

Remember how close we came, to giving up

We were caught up in our storm, I didn’t think that we would make it

We have only stood our grounds, now the storm is breaking

— Amber, “Above the Clouds” —

Not by any means do I wish to imply that things are on any track toward anything more than what it was, which was a friends-with-a-benefit-package thing. But for five minutes, it was nice to wonder if we were somehow working our way back to each other, even if only through baby steps taken somewhat backward.

I shudder to admit that I showed up on his doorstep one more time (can we say hoe-biscuit?) before I left town. All I can really say to that is that I had a little trick up my sleeve to make myself unforgettable (not through sex, although not for lack of wanting the latter!). Showers of kisses later, I left, although not because I really wanted to. One only wonders what really runs through his thoughts, but I have my theories.

And as for me, I will make one personal revelation. I have never stayed the night with anyone. I have made more 4 a.m. excuses than I care to recount, but with him, I just couldn’t come up with any. I loved it that when he slept, he held me close to him. And I can’t lie still to save my life, and I changed positions a dozen times. And each time, he pulled me toward him and didn’t let go. But only in his sleep does he do that. And he didn’t seem to really believe me when I confessed that I never stayed the night with anyone, but that’s OK. I know my history entirely too well (anybody remember G3 when I left him after saying, “That’s it?” Heh).

He says “roll the dice” a lot. It appeared in a number of text messages from him as I made my journey closer to him. So I slipped him the directions to my place, under the heading of “roll the dice.” I kept saying that I’d see him in a year (as it has been nearly a year since we last saw each other), and it seemed to bother him, because he said he hoped it would be sooner. But then he reverted to his usual smartass mode (part of what attracted us to each other, I’m sure, was our mutual quick wit) and said that maybe it’ll be a year and a half next time. Heh. He’d better work pretty quickly, if you want to know the truth, because I’ve never been one to wait around for anyone.

At any rate, I left town this morning and left him behind, but I will always smile a little bit to know that — in his own words — he told me that he was glad that I had come back. I made it clear that it took me a long time to get over him, but quite honestly, we didn’t resolve our issues. We just — finally — had fun and, well, I rolled the dice. We’re still living in very different worlds — both in location as well as emotionally — but we can come together (*ahem*) and enjoy each other’s presence. And right now, that’s what works, and I’m OK with it.

And now it’s his turn to roll the dice. I’ll be curious to see when he takes his turn.

The closing number to today’s musical is brought to you from the “Great Expectations” soundtrack — part of one of my three mix CDs that I made in his honor, many months ago, which got me through the drive home to D.C.:

“Don’t bother saying you’re sorry

Why don’t you come in

Smoke all my cigarettes again

Every time I get no further

How long has it been?

Come on in now, wipe your feet on my dreams

— Pulp, “Like a Friend” —

Roll the dice, friends. Life’s too short to wonder or to worry or to pass up opportunities — especially when they come around more than once. Just do what makes you happy, but be ready for anything. We win some, we lose some, we learn lots regardless. And between us, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. 🙂

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life?

Too many. Moved around a lot as a kid. Probably five places before I turned 18. After that, at least eight. And unfortunately, I ain’t done. 🙂

2. Which was your favorite and why?

Lovely apartment on Mount Washington in Pittsburgh. Large place, pretty cheap, gorgeous view, all mine. The ’60s shag carpet was a bummer, but I had more area rugs than China has rice, so I didn’t have to look at that god-awful carpet.

3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why?

Both. More exciting than stressful, though. I love adventure, and I love decorating new places much more than trying to figure out what the hell to do to revamp an old place. I am a great packer and usually manage to get my shit from Point A to Point B with little to no breakage.

4. What’s more important, location or price?

Used to be location, in inexpensive Pittsburgh. Now in pricey Northern Virginia, I’m all about trying to not break the bank with the place to live. Although I must say, I love being located two miles from work — it’s nice to have a four-minute commute.

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)?

I have always been a city dweller, so I appreciate having on-site maintenance, which you don’t get with a house. But as I get older, I think more about not pissing money down the drain on rental units and actually buying a permanent residence — in which case I would love to have a yard and a jacuzzi. In any abode, I look for a good-sized tub that will permit happy, roomy and hot bubble baths.

Thanks to everyone who left me comments and sent me e-mails, wondering why the hell I dropped off the earth. I went back into the 1980s — back to Pittsburgh to visit the family and friends I’ve been nearly lost without.

So without further ado, I:

1. Got laid

2. Visited Two Strikes (the old employer) and got to see all my buddies

3. Got to meet two-week-old Chloe and hold that little bundle of love for hours and hours

4. Played dress-up and colored and read books with 3-year-old Courtney

5. Went to the beach

6. Had Mineo’s Pizza with Lori (my grantwriting partner in crime), threw darts at the Oregon Grille with Brat (see archives from September/October 2001 for the history of that entanglement, which only seems to be continuing in its own bizarre way), went to Chez Capri for lunch with CTL, caught up with Susan and her beautiful little girls (see #3 & 4), took a drive with my grandfather, took a separate drive with Mom and had a lovely chatting session with My Hero (my old boss).

7. Sat in entirely too much traffic on the Beltway and put no less than 800 miles on my dear Samantha Jones

8. Missed Shan, Tiff, and all my loyal readers!

Looking forward to elaborating on all of the above at some future date, as well as catching up on reading all of my favorite blogs that I haven’t seen in two weeks! Love you all!