Tuesday, March 28, 2006

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade.
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all.
And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide,
Lying awake at night


WELCOME TO THE DESERT OF THE REAL

Over the past several months I’ve come to realize that real-life relationships bear only a vague resemblance to fictionalized, movie-relationships. I suppose this is a lesson that most people learn before their twenty-second birthday, but I don’t have a very impressive learning curve when it comes to these sorts of things. Actually, I don’t think I have an impressive learning curve period.

In reality, there’s no such thing as love at first sight. Looks win out over personality pretty much every day of the week. The right words never come when you want them to. Breaking up weddings at the last second is both awkward and rude. And people never fall in love with their best friend--assuming, of course, that their best friend is of the opposite sex.

Despite what we’ve been led to believe (or what we would like to believe) this stuff just doesn’t happen.

I know this. You know this. We all know this. And that’s fine.

But here’s the thing…

Real life relationships don’t begin the way they do in movies, which probably means they don’t end the way they do in movies either.

There’s not always a huge fight. Someone doesn’t always sleep with someone else. There isn’t some kind of complicated misunderstanding. And there’s never a moment at which the other person finds out that you’ve been lying to them about who you are, what you do, etc…

Sometimes they just end. Like that.

It’s just like how you used to like that band but now you can’t remember the last time you popped their cd in. Or that movie that you always loved and knew all the dialogue to but now you can’t stand watching. Or how you used to be a huge Charlotte Hornets fan but nowadays you don't even know what city they play in.

Love is the same way. It fades. And there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You can try to get it back, but once it’s gone...well, you know the rest.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all morose on you.

But if you’ve got something or someone that makes you happy then hold onto it. As tight and as long as you can.

And I’m not just saying this because I saw Renee this weekend. Sure, that might be part of it, but as hard as it may be to believe I have other things in my life that I’m sad about or that I wish I could get back.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about that.


SHARKBAIT HOO HA HA

For those of you who don't know, I recently got a fish. And by recently, I mean like a month ago.

I named him EP. Cause he's a Betta Fish and The Beta Band has an album called the Three EPs. Yes, I know that they're spelled differently but phonetically they’re identical.

Plus, it’s a pun.

So anyway, I think I take pretty good care of the little guy. I feed him once a day. I clean his tank once a week. I even leave his little light on for him all the time. And, because I have an ultra-groovy fish tank, at least once a day I change the color of said light. Fish may or may not be colorblind, but even if they are I'm sure he appreciates it on some level.

Now, I’m not a fish, nor am I a fish expert, but in my opinion I think EP lives a pretty good life.

But the other day when I woke up and said good morning to him, he flared out his gills and gave me the stink-eye. And I'm not talking a tiny flare. The things were practically inside out. That had to take some effort on his part. Can you imagine the strain of turning a part of your body inside out? My guess is that he was really pissed.

So I asked myself...what did I do to deserve this?

Maybe he flashed back to the first time I tried to put him in the tank and he accidentally ended up flopping around on my dresser for the better part of a minute. Okay, clearly I dropped the ball there (no pun intended), but that was a while ago and I don’t think fish hold grudges.

I guess my point is that the entire purpose of owning a fish is that they’re a low maintenance pet. You don’t have to walk them or clean them or pick up after them or make sure they don’t shit where someone might step in it. It’s like the real-life pet equivalent of a Tamagotchi, which, strangely enough, actually takes more work than owning a fish.

All I’m saying is how fucked up is my life when even my goddamn fish hates me? Huh? I didn’t even think that was something that happened. Fish don’t have any feelings.

Kurt told me so.