A Recollection: Concrete Blonde, Johnette Napolitano, and a Crush

 Concrete Blonde is my favorite band. Of all time. Johnette Napolitano could be my entire aesthetic. I first heard them when I was fifteen, the song God is a Bullet was used on the TV show 21 Jump Street. That show also introduced me to Suicidal Tendencies. They used to show the album covers of the songs used in each episode at the end, which was awesome in the age well before Soundhound or Shazam. Or readily available cell phones, we are talking 1989 here. I asked for the cassette for my birthday, and I've been hooked ever since. I don't know if I have a favorite Concrete Blonde song, but I Don't Need a Hero and Scene of a Perfect Crime are way up there. I don't even have a favorite album, but Free was my first and has a special place in my heart. I really love Group Therapy as well, but there is apparently a copyright issue with that one, as you can't find any of the songs online. I've looked for True Pt. III many times. Every mood and feeling I have seems to have a Concrete Blonde song that corresponds. Johnette speaks to my soul. I don't have idols, but she is amazing. I love her voice, her words, her art. She is one of the most beautiful women that has ever existed, to me . If I could look like anyone on the planet, it would be Johnette Napolitano, Tamara Taylor, or Monica Belluci. I have no words for what the band and the music and the words have added to my life. If you aren't familiar with them, other that the goth night song and the radio song, there are s couple of good compilations that span the bands discography, to a point. Johnette alson has amazing solo material.

Many years ago, we had goth night twice a week here, at a gay bar. I was there nearly every goth night. (This is all related, stick with me.) It was generally well attended, and I love to dance. So, there was a guy that used to come out semi regularly, that I had this giant crush on. He had a Christian Bale smile, and always looked slightly sad. I have loved Christian Bale since I was 13, it predates even the Concrete Blonde love. This guy was about my height, maybe not quite. He was frequently wearing khakis and a hawaiian shirt. To goth night. I used to just stare at his face. A lot. Way too much. I was married, and it was the last couple of years of my marriage, and everything sucked and nothing was ever okay. My self esteem was at it's worst, though I've been told recently that I carried myself like a queen, even then. I was so unhappy. I just wanted to dance. I didn't talk to that many people, though I had a few close friends. I sat in the dark by the dance floor, waiting for what I wanted to dance to. I didn't even really drink back then. The bartender was, and still is, one of my best friends, and I'd hang out at the bar to drink water and talk to him, and stare at this guy. Like, I couldn't stop. Yes, I know his name, Darrell (the bartender) told me. This would be around 2003-2004. I never spoke to the man I stared out for hours over time. I've never had a conversation with him. I don't think anyone knew my crush even was. I was married, and even unhappy, I'm not built that way. No matter how fucking beautiful he was to me, I never even said hi. Okay, I spoke to him exactly once. I was at a bachelorette party at a heavy metal dive bar. It was super loud, and the fourth, or so, bar we had been at. I was sitting at the bar, leaning over to talk to my friend beside me, because it was super loud, and the bartender touched my hand to get my attention, to see if I wanted anything. I looked, and guess who tended bar ath the heavy metal dive bar? Yep. And he touched me. And I fell off of my barstool. I am not a cool or graceful creature. He came around to make sure I was okay, and to help me up. I think I only smiled, and when he got back to his side of the bar, he asked if I wanted a drink, on him, so I ordered a vodka and diet coke. That is the extent of our interaction. Two years of staring. I can still picture his Christian Bale smile and sad eyes. I know nothing about him except his first name, and I think he dated a friend of a friend for a while. He stopped coming out. I got seperated in 2005. The world moved on.

In late 2006 I started dating someone, and we moved in together. He knew my love of Concrete Blonde, and Johnette was doing a solo tour in small bars. He got me tickets. It was probably 2007 by this point. So we went to Local 506, a tiny bar, to see Johnette with just a guy with an acoustic guitar on a stage that's about 8 inches off of the ground. She was wearing a burgundy velvet dress and drinking wine from a bottle. I can clearly remeber her singing Amazing and Scarred, with her eyes shut. Both very moving songs. There were maybe 25 people there. I t was the closest I'd been to her, and I was entranced. The first time I saw Concrete Blonde, they opened for Sting, then I'd seen them at medium sized places, but this, this was almost too much, too close, too overwhelming, too personal. I rarely seek to meet those whose art I love. I don't think that I have anything to say that they haven't heard. I'm not going to make a difference to any of their lives. This is one reason that I'm good at the thing I do for conventions. Famous people are just people. I'm just one of hundreds ot thousands of people they might meet. I'm a background human. I don't do autographs or pictures, usually, I don't feel a need to prove that I've been in proximity to people. I'm not knocking it, it's just not my thing. I've never spoken to Johnette. I have left a comment on her tarot reading blog that she responded to, but that's it. So, there I was. With the man I lived with. Having some sortof near religious experience, actual tears in my eyes, staring at her from about 5 feet away. I look around, and to my right, close enough to touch, is the guy with the Christian Bale smile. Staring at her, every bit as in awe as I was. While my significant other was semi bored on my other side. when I'm with someone, I'm with them. I'm not killing time. I'm not trying to find someone more interested. I'm true and I'm loyal and I lways have been. I always will be. I split the rest of the night looking from one to the other. Johnette, Jay, Johnette, Jay. Yes, his name was Jay. I think. It was one of the best shows of my life. I haven't seen him since.

 This Monday morning on my way to work, I was listening to Concrete Blonde on my way to work, as I do. I was listening to Happy Birthday, because it was my birthday, and that memory popped into my head, so clear. Seeing him at her solos show, with so few people around. Watching him watch her. Then I remebered falling off of the bar stool, and the hawaiian shirts. I remembered Jay.

No, I'm not wondering what would have been different if I had talked to him. I was partnered. I do find people attractive, of course, but I'm not built in a way that allows me to be disrespectful to those I love. Or questionable, even, usually. Not saying it's good or otherwise, it's just me. 

That's my story.

I realize that I haven't made anything since before. Before the thing. Literally, I was looking at instagram, and the day before, I posted something I was so proud of. I had spent The day sending him pics of new stuff I had made. Then I just, stopped. Cold.

This weekend, I'm making art.

What;s your favorite Concrete Blonde song? Leave me a comment!

The Real Birthday Blues

 Having a birthday on January 4th has always been a bit of a bummer. The 10th day of Christmas, though I've never even seen ten lords a leaping. Three days after New Year's Day. Depending on how the days fall, frequently the day that winter breaks end. When I was a wee sprout, my mom made a big deal about it. I love celebrations, and special occasions, no matter how stoic and cynical some people find me. Because of 2020, and mental health/brain problem, and being broken hearted, this one is set to really blow chunks. Today, I'm having a bad anxiety day, but there will be a tiny cake and tacos at home. I'll try to remember to add pics later.

Hopefully, it won't be the worst birthday ever. I spent one of my birthdays in my 20s, when I was married, snowed in my house alone for three or four days. I hate snow. On my actual birthday, I nearly choked to death on soggy fruit loops. My tongue was pierced back then, and I somehow managed to get a fruit loops stuck on the bar on my tongue and in my throat. I literally lost consciousness for a moment, and fell, which dislodged the loops. I think it's kind of funny, now. 

I'm doing a class thing that gives you something to focus on/ write about each week for a year, both to write and know yourself better, this week is obstacles. What is my biggest obstacle? Me, clearly. I've gotten to where I am by a series of my own choices. With a litlle crazypants thrown in. My longest running obstacle? Still me. Self esteem, maybe. I've been trying to see myself like others see me. Which is hard, because of the break up thing. To some, I'm funny and smart and supportive and steady. I feel, like completely, not enough.

I am very empathetic. I believe you don't owe anyone your time, or your pain, or your effort. I believe you can't change how you feel, to an extent. You can choose to work to change. You can make an effort for things and people that are important. I believe in independence, and taking care of yourself first, though I don't always do that. I believe in honesty. I believe in doing what is right. I believe in finding joy and beauty all around. I believe in comfort and laughter. I believe in loving who you love. I believe you don't have to explain yourself or justify yourself to anyone. And I know, I'm trying not to go on and on about it, but...the breakup. All of those things apply to him, as well. But that really hurts, because I know that I fell so short, that he completely walked away. I felt like I was a bother, and making him respond to me when I messaged him. Making him think about me. Making him answer. So, I left it up to him. Oh. I see.

Generally if I say, oh, I see, my feelings are very hurt. 

Yep.

If I reply to a text or message with that, or just oh, it means I'm having that sinking, swallowed dry ice butterflies feeling in my belly. That's just a me thing. Partially because I almost always respond, just to show that I read the message. The more you know.

Throughout this saga, I've been reaching out more, which has been hard, because if the man you are in love with doesn't feel the same way, and you didn't know, how can you be sure who really likes you? What if everyone reassures me without meaning it? 

I know, I've said these things before. Telling me that I must not really know him, or that I'm worth so much more, or that the person I describe isn't the real person, or that he's bad in any way, or that I don't know him, really, isn't much helping. I do know him. I realize there's a repeat in there. Telling me that my adoration is possibly a symptom of the brain thing really doesn't help. I have doctors for that.

Last year, for my birthday, I got gothy dressed up and went to a nice dinner with him, at one of my favorite places. Then we went o goth night, one of my favorite things. I was so happy. It was the best birthday that I can remember. And we were out in public! I know how pathetic it sounds, you don't have to tell me. Telling me that I miss being in love doesn't help. I'm still in love. He just isn't. With me. He just, isn't. What I want or need from this situation is clearly unimportant right now. Maybe he's giving me time and space to heal. Maybe he feels bad about what happened. Maybe he hates me. Maybe he wants me to shut the fuck up.  Maybe he's just done.I don't have a clue.  He's not a villain. Yes, I still say good morning to him, out loud instead of by message. Yes, I save things to my phone that I would have sent to him. I dream about kissing him, being wrapped in his arms, but that is the bit I know he never wants again. I reread the message that states that clearly, if I'm having a hard time not messaging him. He could contact me at any time, in multiple ways. He doesn't owe me anything. He doesn't have to justify himself. I thought he would at least miss me as a friend. Maybe I bring too much drama or dread. It wasn't my intention. I still don't understand anything and he's not talking. He doesn't have to. He's making his own choices. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I don't even know if he knows my birthday is tomorrow. Pretty sure that it doesn't change anything. But he did give me one amazing one, last year. And he made me the best cookies ever 4 years ago for my birthday, when we were friends.

Gah. You're tired of hearing about it, I'm tired of feeling it, we're all tired here. I haven't been reaching out to talk about it. I think everyone is tired of it. I fell everyone is tired of me, no matter what pretty words they say.

Nothing is helping, really, except the medical shit. I am getting "better." I am healing, despite what it sounds like. As I said in an earlier post, I tend to repeat myself until I understand or come to grips with something. I know he's not coming back. I know there is nothing I can do or say to change that. It doesn't stop the missing, or the dreams of kisses. 

I keep getting Timekiller by Project Pitchfork stuck in my head. The perspective is wrong, but I don't want to be just a timekiller until something better comes along. Three in a row, yo. I haven't even dated that many people. That's like, half of my relationships. I don't want to be a timekiller anymore. 

I'm writing today, because tomorrw, my birthday, I'll be at work, and then a medical thing. Fun times, woohoo! This one is going to be sad and lonely. I'll survive.

Happy Aubrey's Birthday, y'all! 

Pic of my new tattoo again, because I love it. The story of it is in the post titled The Starless Sea.

3 Card New Year's Day Spread/Birthday Blues

 

From the Tarot Del Toro Deck, a simple New Year's Day 3 card spread, this was pulled as the basic Past/Present/Future. These cards are gorgeous! The art is astounding. I also realized that one of my other passions, even fandoms is represented, in one of these pics, cross stitching, and specifically stitching the amazing designs of Screaming Heart Designs. Find her on Etsy if you need patterns, I'm a little obsessed. That one in the image is the last of the Four Squares of the Apocalypse that I have to finish, Famine. I'm mostly done, then I'll finish them for framing and write about them.

In the past position is the King of Cups, or Goblets in this deck. He is emotional maturity, stability, mastery of a skill, being in control, success in learning. He's a leader that relies on logic, and making sure everything is taken care of. Thinking things through. Today, in the past position, he represents that the stability has been shaken, and you may feel like you are slipping from what you have achieved, you may be feeling a little off kilter, or full on crazy pants.The art on this card features the vampire from The Strain. Maybe you were on top of your game, and are feeling a little...drained? (Waka, waka, waka!)

In the present, we have the Knight of Discs (pentacles). This is hard work, and planning for the long term. This knight is not getting to where he's going quickly, necessarily, but he's considered all of the possibilities, made a plan, and put it into motion. He takes responsibility for his actions, learns, and uses that knowledge to reach his goals. Maybe a mistake has been made, a hard lesson that has caused you to reassess, in the now. It may seem impossible, but make lists, make plans, do the work and don't wait and hope. And do it now, not tomorrow. This card art features medieval style version of Striker Eureka fighting the Kaiju Knifehead, both from Pacific Rim. Never thought I'd type  Medieval and Kaiju in the same sentence...

In the future, Strength. Which represents, well, strength. Traditional decks show a woman calmly holding open the jaws of an adult lion. Strength is not just physical, it is emotional fortitude, and compassion, and knowing what is right, and doing that. Unstoppable will, and energy. Go read the poem Invictus, this is that. This card art features Mr. Wink, from Hellboy II, with his steel arm.

So, things were going well and stable, and were maybe knocked askew, causing some self doubt. Planning, knowing what you want, and working towards it, calmly and without panic is the course. Inconquerability is the result. Put that plan and drive to use, and overcome, and achieve.

Which is all true, without these cards, as well.

I hate New Year's Eve. Last year was the only notable great one I've ever had. I am almost always alone, and have generally just kept my normal sleeps time in recent years. But Monday is my birthday, so there is that. Frequently, when I was in school, my birthday was the day classes resumed. Yay. I usually take it off, but I didn't this year. I guess I'm not really doing anything for my birthday, at all. I did order myself a tiny cake. Might make tacos. Monday, I'll work and then do a mental health thing, maybe eat some drive through. I love my birthday, my mom always made a point to make it special, because it's so close to Christmas and New Year's. Combo gifts weren't allowed, because you wouldn't do that for someone who's birthday was in any other month, so it didn't happen for the girl born on the 10th day of Christmas. I'm pretty sad about it, but it's hard to sound like an adult and explain that to people, you know? Especially when you will be halfway to 94. But I can't really stamp my feet and ask for gifts and attention. Can I?

New beginnings. Use them wisely.