27 January 2012

A Change Of Pace

I am so very ready for Robin to get back to Portland tomorrow night. The last two weeks have seemed to just drag, but at the same time it's all been kind of a blur. Boredom has stretched across vast wastelands. Minutes passed in half-time, but waking to go to work always came too soon. The clock became my opponent in staring contests.

I never thought myself the co-dependent type. For years I've forged myself with sleep-deprivation, being at odds with my over-analytical nature. It's something I always took upon myself as a personal war. But, the lack of my better half has really put a lot into perspective. Robin grounds me. It's one thing to travel and wind up in the arms family and friends, but it's another thing to be the one left behind. I've got the same frustrations and routines as when she's here, but I don't have her around to balance everything out. The lazy nights spent with her by my side still seem productive. Wasting away on the futon by yourself just ins't the same.

I'm not only ready for her to return into my arms, but I am ready for the companionship and the conversations that are her specialty. This obviously only scratches the surface, but she's the most important thing in my life. Without her around the past couple weeks, it's been kinda shitty.

When she does get back tomorrow night, we are making our way to Backspace to see Banner Pilot play. For the first time. Together. I've waited about six years to see this band, and I couldn't be more excited to share that experience with her. For those of you that know me, "Collapser" is one of the most important albums in my life. We will get drunk and rowdy and scream until we're hoarse.

It did wind up being a semi-productive couple weeks, though. I kept up with blogging and finally got some zines printed and mailed out. I did get in some good reading, too. If you're a fan of Kerouac's "On The Road" and train-jumping books, then you need to read William T. Vollmann's "Riding Toward Everywhere". It's a breathtaking book that really encapsulates the free-jazz rhythm and manic highs and lows of Kerouac (without completely ripping it off). It's definitely the best hobo/trainhopping book I've ever read.

I also spent a lot of time listening to this album. It's fun, anthemic and loud. Not to mention it's extremely dark and borderline creepy. If it wasn't for Mike, this might have totally slipped beneath my radar. Crusades what Dead To Me would sound like if they grew up listening to Slayer.


Tomorrow's gonna kick so much ass.

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