beautiful, funny, sad & true

I’m home sick again.

Last night after I got home from the store (where I ran into Luke!), I suddenly felt cold all over. I started shivering almost uncontrollably. I didn’t want to get up from the sofa, because it was warm, but eventually I did get up and go to bed. I was so cold that I slept in a hat and pajamas, despite the fact that my apartment is perfectly comfortable.

I pulled the covers over my head and eventually warmed up enough to sleep. I kept dreaming about being warm and sweating. I also kept waking up to find that the dreams were true. But if I pulled the hat off or pulled the sheets back, I got too cold again, so I decided that, given the choice, too warm was better.

I think it’s time to go back to bed again. I’m sore all over. I wish I could at least read, but I think it’s going to be NPR time for a while.

I got my heart broken tonight, by a song.

I’d be a hugely unprofessional a-hole if I went into any more detail about it, but make no mistake; my heart is broken.

What a month this has been.

Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought, ‘Man, I need a new entry for my blog,’ but every time I sit down to start one, nothing comes.

I’ve been busy, so it’s not that.

I had an awesome gig in Salem with Breanna last Friday, then came home to a rockin’ Latin-American-themed house party at my building. Total blast.

Saturday morning, S&W and I went exploring in the hills of Southwest Portland to find as many of the old steps as we could. In the early 1900’s, the same group of people who built the Park Blocks thought it would be nice to have walking trails that linked the Park with the various neighborhoods. Many of them still exist, and they run through the most beautiful old parts of town. We traipsed around for about four or five hours. In fact, we even drove to Powell’s to find a book and look at a map, which we found and looked at, then drove back to a different set of steps. Total blast.

Sunday was house-cleaning day. I did six loads of laundry, washed the dishes, swept the sidewalk and steps outside, and took out the trash and recycling.

I realize this is all very well, but it doesn’t exactly make for an exciting blog entry. Oh well, I guess they all can’t be exciting.

Regardless, I’ve been too busy and too tired lately to be really creative. I’m also still really emotional about the Kelly situation. It’s been tough, especially since Luke is here with Alyssa now. I was very excited to have the four of us hang out once Luke arrived, and now he’s here–which is great, by the way–but at the same time, I feel like there’s a Kelly-shaped hole in the universe. Le Sigh.

I do have a Susie Blue gig tonight, so that will help lift me out of my funk. Nothing like playing great music with great friends to make you feel like yourself again. I’ll be better, and be back on my blogging game, soon enough.

When in doubt, there are always plenty more Yakima stories.

Wow. Have I really not written since Monday? Well, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, it’s been a crazy week.

I’ve worked overtime two days, and in the evenings it’s been Breanna rehearsal/Breanna gig/Breanna rehearsal/Alyssa dinner and movie, and tonight is tango band rehearsal. I’m especially excited about tonight because we’re auditioning a pianist.

I’ve also been quiet lately because I’ve needed to. Lots of people have been asking how I’m doing, and I just frankly don’t know what to say. Half of the time I’ve been feeling okay about everything, and the other half I’ve been walking around with a lump in my throat. The third half of the time has been consumed by work, and the fourth half I’ve devoted to music. The fifth and final half is where things like laundry and sleep have been relegated to. Lots of people have reached out and called, but I just haven’t felt strong enough yet to reach back. I will as soon as I can, I promise.

Everyone’s been super nice and supportive, but it’s still really hard to talk about. Kelly and I are finally writing again, after two or three weeks of silence, which I think has been really good for both of us. We’re still trying to figure out what our next step is going to be, and she’s dealing with a lot of other things at the moment, so I’m trying to just lay low and let her deal with everything, and we’ll deal with our stuff after that. But I miss her terribly. I’ve had two song lyrics in my head a lot lately.

One is by the Long Winters:
AND IF YOU THINK YOU’RE GONNA BE HERE LONG,
I’M GONNA MISS YOU SO MUCH WHEN YOU’RE GONE.

The other is by Thomas Dolby:
SOME WORDS ARE SAD TO SAY, SOME LEAVE ME TONGUE-TIED,
BUT THE HARDEST WORDS I KNOW ARE
‘I LOVE YOU; GOODBYE.’

I got a call from my dad, which I’m really not up for at the moment. I got a call from my brother, but I haven’t had the heart to call him back. I’m still not myself, and I need this time to heal and figure out what I’m really feeling and thinking.

I slept for two and a half hours last night, from 2:45 until about 5:00, and then dozed for a few minutes before my alarm went off at 7:00.

The driver’s side seat belt on my car is stuck, as of last night, so I have to figure out how to fix it as soon as possible. Here in Oregon you’ll get a big, juicy ticket if you’re not wearing your seat belt. (Plus, driving without it just makes me nervous.) And I have so many gigs and rehearsals, and I take little day trips practically every weekend, so I really can’t afford to have any down time where the car is concerned. Yes, I have a Haynes manual, but I know precious little about cars, and I’m mechanically inept anyway–which is why I have a Honda instead of another of the ancient BMW’s that I love–so any ideas or experiences you have are welcome.

I’ll be around this weekend, but I should tell you that writing is better than calling, because I tend not to answer the phone when I’m feeling like this. Just lettin’ ya know.

Hope everything’s good with you.

After I posted my blog entry on Sunday about that cool house (see here), I did a little poking around. I was wondering why they don’t just put it on the National Register of Historic Places, and have a chance at having the building renovated.

What I didn’t realize is that lots of owners of old houses are touchy about this subject. Part of having your building on the NR of HP involves making it open to the general public for a few hours each year. The ‘general public’ of course, means everyone, and that means the place has to be retrofitted with extra earthquake and fire protection, made handicap-accessible, all of the doors have to be a certain width, and a myriad of other modern treatments. Obviously, nothing of the sort existed in the 1880’s and ’90’s, when Portland Heights was being built, so to bring an old house up to today’s specifications can involve major surgery. This can ruin its ‘period charm’.

And in extreme cases, places like this would simply be laughably difficult to make accessible. It’s on the edge of a hill, the main entrance is up a bunch of steep steps, and I’m sure its earthquake and fire resistance are minimal. If the owners were lucky, the entire house would be taken apart and moved to a more stable location. If they were unlucky, it would just be condemned, dismantled and sold for its period fixtures, or its siding, or its trim, or its stained-glass windows.

I’d sure like to see it saved, and it’s so perfect where it is–with the raised corner room that overlooks the entire city–that I can’t imagine moving it. Modernizing it would seem to be impossible. I wonder if there’s a way to save it and improve it, using private funding or something, so they don’t have to carve it up or move it.

Something tells me it will eventually get the same treatment that the Simon Benson House got a few years ago, which would change it and make it look more modern, but at least it wouldn’t have to be completely destroyed.

* * * * * *

This may all be interesting and everything, but the real story is that last night I cried for two hours, until I finally was able to fall asleep.