Back in the saddle

I don't know, I've been having that thing in my head again where I start blog posts about sort of boring things, but in my head, they sound really interesting. Like car tires, things of that ilk. But I'll compose what I deem to be an interesting sentence, and think, "I should start blogging again. I'm sure as hell not doing anything else with my time."

Last night, I went to go see Vic's band at Amnesia, ostensibly "with" my Russian travel companion, but we had a little BART misunderstanding, so she ended up meeting me there. There were all these people from Cloyne there, which just exacerbated my feeling that I'm back where I was 3 years ago. The Milkman was there, and oh, I will always have a crush on him I think. I can't help it. Nostalgia? Maybe. We talked about the wedding of our Communist friend and how it had happened so fast. I didn't think so; I remember him talking about her years and years ago. We were probably naked. We never really talked much with our clothes on. He had dated her in high school and was nearly getting back together with her at the time. It must have been 4 years ago. I have this very vivid memory of listening to Just a Friend on KALX with said Communist while we watched my across-the-alley neighbors through their windows. I think it was the first time I'd ever heard that song. I'm always a little behind.

The Milkman and I have very little to talk about, ever. I don't know if it's just because I just act like an idiot around him or because we just have nothing to talk about. I do act like an idiot; I can't help looking at him with that same goo-goo eyed face that I used to look at him with when he delivered the milk. I'd pretend to be excited about the arrival of ice cream, but really, I always made sure to be in the kitchen (which wasn't difficult since it was almost always during dinner) when he arrived with his blue crates. I've always been such a creep.

So all we talked about was the wedding. And then how so many people are getting married this summer. Gosh, what a great conversation to have with someone you've had a basically unrequited crush on for, like, 6 years! Good move!

We wandered over to a salsa club where he danced with someone else's sister, and I stood in the corner rejecting invitations to dance and sweating like a fat man in a sauna. We didn't stay long.

We wandered back to Amnesia to watch his brother play the trumpet at midnight. And as if all the Cloyne-folk hadn't been blast enough from the past, in walk Damien and Brian, who I must not have seen for at least 5 years. Damien was very sweet, and expressed how nice it was to see me. We didn't exchange numbers. But it was nice. He was right.

Milkman's brother gave us a ride home. I fell asleep in the backseat. I woke up to his hand on my ankle. "Hey, what's the best way to get to your house?" I told him. He dropped me off. He's moving to New York in a matter of days. Magical.

"What would you do if I could prove you didn't exist, and it was true?" I'm really enjoying People Under the Stairs. Why did I never hear them until yesterday, I wonder?