Party Like a Rock Star... an Old Rock Star

I have a perfectly legit reason for not blogging yesterday. I was out until 3 am. Yes, me, out until 3 am. I didn't think I could do that anymore but I did. Damn...

ITSam and I dropped books off at my favorite used book store and I acquire some more for the school library. While there we met some cat who ended up giving me his business card because I was looking for the entire Michael Buble set of cds and he says he has over 4, 200 CDs and if I email him he'll give me HIS set. More on that in a later post!

Then he and I got some of my favorite cupcakes (tomorrow's post!) and grabbed dinner.

After dinner we decided we really weren't ready to go home. We thought we'd go somewhere to hear some music. Now neither of us were dressed for a club scene nor we were appareled correctly for a nice jazz club. So I agreed, with reticence, to go to a country bar he knew about. He said we could sit in a back booth, chill out, have a few drinks and maybe take a spin or two around the dance floor.

We arrived, parked, paid our cover and then learned there was no country music that night. My first thought was "yay!" until I heard the band. A classic rock band. That covered Poison, Scorpion, Ratt,, etc. Not even the "good" sort of classic rock. I was wishing for country.

But as not to be a killjoy I put my best foot forward, chugged a couple beers and sat back to people watch. Oh my god. It was... surreal. I was wishing I had my camera. You know that web site about the scary looking people at Wal-Mart? Well, I think this bar was where they came to socialize.

There was a woman who had to be in her mid 50s. She was UGLY! She hit every branch on the way down as she fell from the ugly tree! She was also way overly tan. And her body, while sorta skinny-ish, was droopy. And she had this ugly light brown hair all pulled back into a ponytail and then added one of those long extensions so it looked like it went to her butt. Only the extension was a white blonde color. No it didn't match her real color. And she wore blue eye shadow and orange frosted lipstick right out of the 1980s. She also wore skinny jeans, black, with a studded belt. Studded as in goth not in Harley Davidson. And the worse this shirt thing. It was red and lacy and looked of like a negligee. It had a diving neck line and itty-bitty spaghetti straps. Did I mention she was in her mid 50s and her boobs were droopy and she wasn't wearing a bra??

Sam and I decided when her boobs fell out we were leaving.

She would dance and sway alone on the dance floor with one flimsy strap of that top off her shoulder and she would jiggle, with her eyes closed. she was drunk off her ass and couldn't walk a straight line. It was unreal. I can't remember ever seeing anything like that before. Ever.

We left before her boobs hit the floor but it was close. She did manage to take off her shoes and dance alone on the dance floor and once in awhile she perked up and sort of strutted like Mick Jagger.

Other things that were strange were fashions. The 80s are definitely in. There were tons of girls with ripped and holey jeans. Lots of ripped shirts dangling of shoulders- hello Flashdance called and would like her shirt back. One woman who was about 50 wore heels and pants that were totally from the end scene in Grease. And she too was unattractive. And then there was the woman and her friends and she was the one with no style. She had on "mom pants" and tennis shoes. She had on a t-shirt that was Tye-dyed. And she carried a Vera Bradley purse- one of the huge patterned soccer mom totes. Sam said nothing screams "I'm having my period and am old" like that look. Then there were the 2 couples who looked like they came from church....

Then there was the guy in the wheel chair who "danced" and was wearing dirty ripped sweat pants and a t-shirt he had ripped from under the arms to his waist and the young skinny crack whore looking chick who straddled him and bounced up and down on his lap while he buried his face in her non-existent boobs. Hello, Forrest Gump called and is looking for Lieutenant Dan.

The crowd was older. I was expecting it to be young. Well, was I wrong. It was a mixed, eclectic bag of folks but mostly it was older people. They were about my age and up, but mostly up. And dressed outrageously. And behaved outrageously.

Sam and I actually saw people we knew and while they were dressed appropriately they were pretty outrageous as well. I was sort of ashamed at their behavior.

The band made me laugh. They really all wanted to be Bret Michaels. They all wore torn jeans, tight jeans. And no shirts but leather vests. And had long, stick straight white blond hair. And they were old. they were my age or older, mostly older.

After we left we still didn't have enough night life so we tried one more country bar. They actually played country music and we danced and two-stepped. We had a few drinks and laughed and danced and sang.

I got home at 3am.

It was an awesomely fun time.

I can wait to do it again....

Maggie

Whazup with Sam and me

We're okay. The last few weeks since I got home from Dublin, things have been tense between us; we were off kilter and outta whack. We couldn't seem to find our groove; we hardly talked.

So being an emotional female I panicked. If I was thinking with my heart I figured he was being distant and giving me the brush off. Something wasn't as good for him as it was me and he didn't want to hurt my feelings so he didn't call, was short tempered, angry and was smarmy.

Now, if I was thinking with my brain I would realize that since I left he had the flu which irritated his asthma. He was also under tremendous work strain because he was told they were going to probably cut his job before the beginning of April. So he went to work daily with the flu and it turned into pneumonia. Then his CEO in San Fran flew in and while he didn't lose his job or have to take a pay cut, he did get demoted and a whole bunch of other folk were laid off. So now instead of being a VP of International Sales he's a trainer. And then he had to learn all the software had had to train people on and then create 10 hour workshops which last three days on material he's never looked at, let alone used. And then he had to go to the Netherlands for his first training. Then he had to come back to Dublin and do another training over more material he had never seen before- same time frame. ALL of this happened between when I left and now.

So I would push about when I would get to see him, he would be grumpy and nasty because he didn't know when. I would push and he would pull. When nothing was said about the next visit and he was in a bad mood he would take his work shit and his lack of good health shit out on me and that caused a mild unpleasantness for all parties.

Last night when he called he said he was thinking about telling me he didn't need more stress and as much as he loved me and hated his job he thought we should end this now because it was too stressful. Then he said he thought that would be stupid because we had the potential for something amazing and he spilled us guts about everything- his baggage of his ex wife, comments I made that would cause him stress, his family, religion,. work... you name it and he covered it all. he also didn't place blame fully on me- he outlined his own "issues" and explained he knew what his hot buttons were and that those things weren't me. Then he wanted me to talk and we did.

The bottom line: Communication scored BIG. We basically plowed through this together and talked. It was amazing. And enlightening. For example, it drove me nuts that he never said he missed me, so I just thought he didn't miss me. I told him this. Well, it seems when he was married and traveled and told his ex wife he missed her (back when she was a wife) she would reiterrate with screaming at him to come home, find another job without travel, etc... so he just didn't want to say it. I told him I would never do that, and that if he told me he missed me I at least knew he was thinking of me, or that he MISSED me. Point solved.

We talked and it was good. We sort of made a deal. First we are not going to hole up emotions like that which cause us to be anxious and caustic. I am not going to say one word about visiting him again over the next 2 weeks because with his newly re-arranged job he doesn't know when it will work but he's trying to figure it out- he WANTS me there now, but it doesn't work. He is going to be more free with his emotions and realize I won't bite his head off like his ex did.

And then to prove to me that he did miss me, he thought of me often throughout the day, that he didn't really want to end this at all, that he loves me more than he thought possible, that he was really sorry for hurting me... he sang to me and played the guitar. He learned a song I like and that he thought would be apropos: "Baby you can sleep while I drive."




I love this guy.
Maggie

What I'd rather be doing

I'd love to be waking up in the late morning or early afternoon, rare sunshine streaming in the room, peaking in around the closed curtains, find its niche to wake me up. I would turn to Sam, and snuggle against his still sleeping form, quietly talking when he wakes up and then making love. Afterward we would lay entwined together, and we would talk and whisper and laugh like only lovers can, pillow talk that only make sense to those laying there together.

I would try to leave our bed but he would spoon me, and hold me and say to stay and sleep a little longer... even though it was already 1 o'clock in the afternoon. We were such lazybones because we drifted into sleep at 4 o'clock that same morning, after talking and laughing and kissing and not wanting to give in to our bodies demands that we must sleep, not wanting to stop sharing what precious time we had left together, not ready to give in to the sleepy monster, even though we would be sleeping side by side.

Finally I would wriggle out of his grasp, claiming I would have to "pee", and he would let me go, but I would cheat and use my escape to shower and dress and be ready to go out, for Mother Nature was giving Dublin a much needed gift of sunshine, no clouds, just light and warmth. I would sneak back to bed and nuzzle Sam's neck, cajoling him to wake up and go out with me, but he wanted.... no needed, more sleep.

So I would leave him a hastily scribbled note taped to the bathroom vanity where I knew he would find it and I would hit the city. My intention would be to go to "Fresh", the market near the flat, but the sunshine would draw me further into the city. I would desire to be outside, to be part of the alive bustle of the city. I would shed my coat and walk along the now familiar route, the now familiar cobblestone way, enjoying the sounds of the city which had been awake far longer than I. I would cut over to amble along next to the Liffey, loving the irony of the still waters parallel to the flowing and frantic traffic. Finally, I would arrive at Bewley's, a coffeehouse and cafe Sam had introduced me to, and then I would get a mocha and a pastry and sit outside at one of the small sidewalk tables. I would watch the people and giggle at the tourists, even though, I guess, I would technically be such. I would read a book I had tucked into my bag, or the newspaper someone left on the table, and drink my coffee, and smoke Sam's cigarettes, enjoying the thrill of the moving city that I can be part of, of the outdoors that comes with being in a city, of the quaint appeal of it, feeling so metropolitan and European in my monochrome attire.

My mobile would jingle and it would be Sam, asking where I was. He said he would join me, for this is a wondrous place that he showed me and became one of my favourite Dublin haunts- he's a fan too. He would arrive in an hours time, and bend to kiss my offered lips, tasting of minty toothpaste and tobacco. I would wave him into the empty seat opposite me, and I'd push my way through the crowd to get him a double shot espresso, and a pastry, that I knew if I asked nicely, he would share with me. We would sit companionably, mostly quiet, together in the sidewalk cafe, sharing random comments about passersby, smoking, and just enjoying being together- me letting him still wake up and let his body come into tune with the city's movement, and to tune in to mine, waiting patiently until we were humming along at the same pace.

We would take our leave and meander about, winding our way to St. Stephens Green, strolling through the park, hand in hand, chatting and laughing. The sunshine would still be a gift to us and we would sit on the grass, his head curled in my lap and we would soak up the sun. We would watch the people. We would watch a group of teens play a casual and silly game of football, the catcalls and jeers to each good naturedly ringing out. As the shadows of dusk would start to fall, we would decide to walk more, talk more, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss, and wouldn't seem to stop.

As the cool darkness of the evening would settle around us, I would pull on my coat and Sam would take stock of where we have walked and then we would head to the Library Pub for pints. We would sit in the cozy chairs and watch the street below, sipping our ale and sharing contentment. We would leave and find dinner on the way back to the flat, kabobs or sushi at some place Sam knows, and then maybe go to the Celt, a pub he enjoys, for more pints, for more conversation, for more kisses, for more laughs, for more 'together'.

And then in the darkness of the city, we would leave, take a cab, holding hands and between whispers, kiss in the shadows of the bask seat like teenagers, would go back to his flat and just be together, again fighting the sleep we know we must partake in, just to enjoy a few more minutes, a few more seconds, together.

That's what I'd rather be doing today...

Obviously Missin' Sam,
Maggie

Is Sam still employed? And the West Wing date follow up

Yes, Sam is still employed. I will spare you all the down and dirty details and all the names he called his boss- which are most certainly NOT fit to print. But be that as it all may, he still has a job and in the middle of this global depression, it's a blessing. The Boss was in his office from San Fran to Dublin on Thursday and was saccharin sweet- I can at least tell you that. His job had been restructured- more training, more sales, more travel and less management duties- Sam is not a happy camper about the last one... When I talked to him after our West Wing date, his final words about the job were: "If I call you around noon your time, then you can rest assured I punched his lights out and ordered you plane ticket- you'll be leaving Sunday." The phone call, the punch nor the ticket occurred. So, he's employed for now.

The down side of this restructuring mess is that I am now no longer going to meet him in San Fran in April. Before this, he was to be in CA for 14 days and I was going to be there for a big chunk of those. The trip is now down to 4 days, with him flying out on a red eye on Thursday so he can conduct a training in Dublin on Friday... I don't think I need to even talk about how unhappy both of us are over this whole thing. he's pissed at the company. He's also pissed at himself. I'm sad over it all, vow to not use any guilt on the man because he does it well enough on his own (He has a Jewish mother- he lived the World Series of Guilt for years!), and am mad at the company. I would say the upside is that if his training schedule works out, I'll go see him at the beginning of May and be there for his birthday! Now that would be nice...

And as for our West Wing date, it was fun. We giggled and talked through much of it and he can quote the whole thing word for word, which struck me as hilarious, for some reason. When he worked for Clinton, he told me he was really like Toby but wanted to be more like Josh with a splash of Sam<-- the character played by Rob Lowe, not MY AIISam. But he was really Toby. (Okay he really wanted to be Leo- who wouldn't want to be Leo?!?) And as I watched that episode I can totally see it. Completely- he is sooooo Toby. Ah, the things TV help you learn about those you love. BUT anyway, we talked and watched and decided to do it again. We even have another "date" episode picked out. (And we were totally impressed that we only had a 2 second lag from when we separately clicked play) And for those of you who are not familiar with the shoe, shame on you, and sorry you just wasted a bit of your life reading this paragraph that probably made no sense...

Ah, the world of Sam. At least updating you on him and how his job affects me keeps me from really talking about myself........

I'm a CJ girl myself (or is that Dr Bartlet?),
Maggie