shit - got to fix the reblogger again, my fault screwed it up.
I'm wiped - what did I do with all my personal errands and shit when I had a job ? Seems like there is never time in the day. Pretty much selling off or giving away all of my belongings (haven't I been here before?) and beginning my possession-less journey back to AZ. Feel kinda like one of those restless nomads who wears to much denim in a movie of the week : he breezes into town, not a care in the world - but carrying all of life's frustrations square on his back, who is this mysterious stranger (and does he put out?)
Moving is a downward-spiral with a spring at the bottom that somehow sends you right back up, Windex on a crystal ball whose contents turned out to be blurred of their on accord no matter how much shine you bring to that sphere...you know it's late and it's tired if I'm getting poetic on you.
So It's odd - I have so much on my mind, but I'm blogging less. Today is my ex-boyfriend's birthday, Joey. I feel cheated I couldn't wish him Happy Birthday today, tell him he's still very important to me, how everytime I see a picture of that goofy smile and boyish face I want to give him an unbreakable bear-hug - I feel like I was so young when I met him even though it was only five years ago. I mean anyone who reads my blog knows my heart belongs to 'Lucky' my current boyfriend/my lobster who this time next week I will be living with in sunny Phoenix, Arizona. But all of this picking up and sorting through my pack rat collection of belongings always brings Joey back in my mind (nostalgia, heartache, sentimentality), add to that his birthday and then go one step further to the fact that this will be the first birthday since 1996 that I didn't call or anything.
Why ? Well I couldn't even if I wanted to. Joey sent me a one email letter one day in the winter - he and his boyfriend were moving to Long Beach (if you are a Long Beach blogger - please do not attempt to go put all the facts together - Joe is a very private person - I respect that and do not wish to intrude on his privacy) and then he was gone, no forwarding address, no phone number, gone.
It was probably for the best, he had his life, I had mine, but how odd that that person could have been such an important part of my first few years out of college and not wanted to see where I had ended up or wanted to share the same with me. Does he hope I succeeded or dreamed that I failed - right now I'm no longer sure which it is. Does he still play the guitar when he's blue? Did he change his side of the bed? How many cups of coffee is he up to in the morning? Does he think the Cohen Brothers have lost their touch? How are his folks? Brother? Sister? If he found out I was laid-off, would his initital thought be sadness or would he wonder if I didn't do a good enough job? Does he ever open the old birthday cards from me and think what I'm thinking right now, how stupid we are for writing "here's to many, many more birthday's together".