January 15, 2007
Where to begin? I know I don't update nearly enough for some of you but given the VERY tiny amount of sleep I manage to squeeze in you should all be grateful that I occasionally string a few words together that make some sort of sense and share them with you. I'm certainly not writing anything else lately, which is kind of a problem since I joined that writers group specifically to make myself become a more disciplined writer, but I get ahead of myself, as usual.
I just realized that sounded bitchy. I didn't mean it to be bitchy. I meant it to be funny and self deprecating but I'm severely sleep deprived so I don't think I'm pulling it off. Pretend I said some thing here that's witty.
I didn't get much sleep Saturday afternoon, I spent the whole time tossing and turning in my bed in that state between sleep and conscious where you picture scenarios and then fall into a dream of that scenario only to wake yourself up in 5 minutes time and start again. They were all a variation of SAM coming by to kiss me. They mostly ended up with an NC-17 rating not suitable for sharing with a random audience (not that I don't love each and every one of you).
So SAM the sleep stealer strikes again.
I was in second wind mode (might have something to do with the leftover margaritas) by the time I needed to perform. I did a wedding that was supposed to start at 7:30. They never do, I mean everyone knows that so you never even consider that you'll be anywhere near the stage until 8 but this one was especially late because the bride had some sort of drama with her gown so we finally got started at 8:45. Naturally by then all anyone wanted to do was eat and ignore the band so I had that thing I hate where you're up there singing and everyone is basically just pretending that you're not there, having their dinner conversations and being either angry that it's getting so late or belligerently drunk because they spent the entire wait time slamming $7.00 vodka tonics at the bar.
Some people finally started to dance by around 9:30 but my second wind had died down to barely a whisper of a breath so when the "happy" couple asked me if I'd consider adding on an hour at the end (I was due to stop at 10:30), I declined.
I was heading to my car after scraping most of my stage makeup off my face when my phone beeped. I nearly didn't look because I was certain it would be Poo. He frequently texts or calls me when an "early" gig is ending to let me know where everyone is so I can meet them. I checked the phone, knowing I would turn down whatever they were doing to go home and try to read myself to sleep but when it showed the text message the from box wasn't Poo.
It was SAM.
"Hope your show went well. I'm home, call me if you're in the mood for dessert, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow. – Tim"
A hurricane force gust third wind swept through me. I called him back as soon as I started my car and told him I was exhausted but always available for dessert, where did he have in mind and could he wait while I went home and showered and changed.
He picked me up a half hour later. I met him outside the door because he said he wanted to take me to Love Cafe and they close at midnight on Saturday so there was no time to waste. Even though I was on the doorstep when he pulled up (I'm the master of the quick change though if I have my way my showers go on for days, for SAM I'll do the speed shower) he jumped out of the car to walk up and meet me and give me a hug and a quick kiss.
Give me a minute to relive that. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Okay, sorry, so in the car we compared notes about how poorly we had slept that day and SAM won because at least I dozed a little here and there but he had no such luck. You could tell because he looked sort of tired but it looks cute on him.
It was sweet because we were both so desperate for sleep and yet much more interested in being together.
I have to tell you about the cake we had at Love. There are so many choices it's nearly impossible but this one stood out as the clear winner once I saw it. I'd link the picture here but none of you would ever forgive me if you aren't from the area and can't get there. If you really want to know follow this link and scroll down to Toffee Crunch.
the description:
i Featuring homemade toffee chips, rich caramel buttercream and layers of soft chocolate cake. Available with vanilla cake, too. /i
Heavenly. We got two great big glasses of milk instead of any kind of coffee drinks because the cake pretty much demands milk.
When we were tossed out on the street from Love at five after midnight it was clear neither of us were ready to say goodbye. Rather than head off to one of the clubs I decided to ask him back to my place to see the Crandall.
(and yes, it felt as much like the old "C'mon up to my studio and I'll show you my etchings" line then as sounds now but neither of us seemed to care)
I made us decaf because really, what we didn't need was something else keeping us awake and took him to my library/writing room. He went directly to my Crandall, looking but not touching, the mark of someone who really appreciates something. I wanted to let him caress the keys, but I never let anyone type at it, ever. No sense giving it all up on the second date right? I have to hold out a little. So I let him look, and then watched him as he prowled through my stacks of books.
He asked me if any belonged to Poo and I laughed so hard I nearly choked. The last thing Poo read was the directions for the maze on the back of his Coco Puffs. Watching someone else, someone who matters, and who reads themselves pour over your bookshelves is like sitting in a waiting room after a job interview. I caught myself actually holding my breath while he touched the spines of some things and merely passed by others with hardly a glance.
"You have a lot of medical books." It was more than an observation, it was a question.
I hadn't told him this part of me yet. I mean, it's not some deep dark secret, but it's not exactly the first thing you blurt out.
"Yeah, I went to med school and dropped out with half a month of one rotation left."
It's not something you lead with, and it isn't something people let go easily. There are always so many questions.
Why did you leave? Can you go back? Is your family pissed? What made you want to do it in the first place? Isn't that an enormous waste of money?
I sighed and told SAM the short version of the truth. "I was a med student, it didn't work out."
"Medical school to Doris Day impersonator is a long road." He didn't even look up from the bookshelf.
"I'm not a b Doris Day impersonator /b , I just sing songs from her era."
"Dressed pretty much of the same era."
"Sometimes, not always. Depends on the crowd." Good let's stay with the current career, let's not go down the harder road.
"Where'd you go to school?"
"Oh you don't need a lot of training to sing Doris Day songs; they let most anyone do it these days."
Now he looked over at me expectantly.
"Tufts."
"No kidding. I went to MIT. How far'd you get?"
So I told him. And he asked. And I must have looked beat because when I asked him if it would be okay if I saved that story for another day he backed down immediately.
So we packed in the library tour and I walked him to the door where we both lingered. It was clearly time for him to go but we just kept kissing instead. Finally Poo came in, covered in white dust, soon identified as snow and declared the roads unsuitable for man or beast.
I made a case for him spending the night, the Porche not really being a snow vehicle. He resisted half heartedly and then offered to sleep on the sofa. I insisted that I could be trusted to not molest him while he slept.
Oh, the phone is ringing and I have to go get it. I'll tell you all the rest later.
To be continued…