Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Sheryl Crow

As a counterpoint to my holier-than-thou tone as of late, I confess that I took a great deal of delight in the observations of several mutual friends who remarked that B's girlfriend has gained 40 or 50 pounds in the last year. Fucking A, that made me laugh and will serve as a personal motivation to keep myself and my body on the program I am working. I don't know the woman and don't believe I have any substantive judgment about her. I have no beef with her whatsoever and should not take any pleasure in knowing this, but alas, I do. Am often not a decent person. Living well, best revenge and all of that.

Apparently, there is trouble in paradise. That goes a long way in explaining why B calls me every day. I don't take most of them, but some habits are harder to break than others. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to tell him about the rat on the BBQ story. I really need to break the B habit, as it is a terrible relationship right now. One sided, false and hypocritical, and truthfully, just a goddamn habit. I have plenty of those and am working towards the day where I don't feel obligated to take his calls.

I said it, probably here, but I don't know how people can completely eliminate someone from their life that they once cared about deeply. B and I shared a long history and grew up together. I have zero attraction to him, as I have lost all respect for him, but I still care about him. I think I will always feel that way about him, out of respect for our former relationship. In some ways, it seems disingenuous to cut him out of my life entirely, as if I am pretending he never existed. On the other hand, he WAS a part of my life, but isn't anymore, and it seems equally disingenuous to pretend otherwise. Shit, I still talk (occasionally) to my high school boyfriend, although there is a lot of time and water under the bridge separating the two relationships. It is way too soon to try to be "friends" with B, and, in any event, he is a shit friend. A very shit friend. Just an artifact of my personal history - one that can be acknowledged and respected for the journey, but not a part of everyday life.

Getting there. Watch this space for personal growth and all of that. With a little distasteful schadenfreude thrown in.

Final aside: one of the great things I developed in the course of the relationship with MRE was a rediscovery of music. I am a creature of habit and listen to the same damn radio station all day and hear the same 100 songs played over and over. MRE used to send me a song of the day, and through him, I learned to expand my comfort zone to new artists. I went on an i-tunes bender on Sunday and bought a shitload of great new music. Some of it was music from artists he recommended, some of it was just dumb luck, but I have reignited the love of my ipod an account of him.

Since I mentioned law school friend yesterday, I am reminded of a theory she and I worked out, back in the day. In any breakup, there are stages. I have long believed they are: (1)shock, (2) hurt/depression, (3)anger/revenge, and eventually, (4) closure. She and I translated these emotional states into recording artists. Shock had no soundtrack, as no one can hear or relate to anything while in shock. Hurt and depression? At the time, I believe we assigned this stage to Paula Cole and David Grey, but present day additions would probably include Mindy Smith and Patti Griffith, and, without question, Snow Patrol - if there is a better breakup album than their most current release, I haven't heard it. Anger/revenge? Ani DiFranco, Fiona Apple, Alanis, and, of course, Peaches (Fuck the Pain Away). But when you know you've crossed the bridge and you are over it? Sheryl Fucking Crow is the gold standard. 10,000 Maniacs and Natalie Merchant. Foo Fighters (wait....what?) I have a few ones to add here, but am too lazy to google. And lest I feel entirely one-sided, I did introduce him to Alexi Murdock.

In any event, I am soaking up the sun and cool like Fonzie these days.


Norm said...

Heh Sheryl. Yeaaah.

Did you know when you go it's the perfect ending,
to the bad day I was just beginning.
When you go, all I know is you're my favorite mistake.

I was once very briefly in a band with a woman who absofreakinglutely nailed that song. And she'd look at the rhythm guitarist while singing the chorus, too. Kinda like Stevie and Lindsay back in '75 or whatever. Chills, I tell ya.

cornutt said...

My Favorite Mistake is the quintessential "I'm over him" song. Still have some warm fuzzy feelings, but damn glad the love stuff is over.