On Again, Off-ish Again

Son of a bitch. This might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do on this site, in full view of my d-list blogging public (all 12 of you).

* Insert Wavy Memory/Dream Sequence *

May 25, 2005 – Charity Bar, Serving Drinks
Me – Oh, that’s creepy.

Her – I know. I don’t break up well.

Me – thinking aloud Me neither.

Her – I just can’t stand that look, you know? When I say, ‘I’m sorry, this just isn’t working,’ they give me that look like I’ve announced they have some terminal illness.

Me – thinking aloud Oh, my god! I can totally see her nipple! Is this the ‘nipple game’ Karla was referring to?

Her – So I just start being mean and stand-offish until they want to break up with me.

Me – That’s pretty smart. And then I bet you’re hurt when they break up with you, you’re all like, ‘What? Am I not GOOD enough for you? Cause I could totally bang this guy serving drinks, asshole!’

Her – Uh, no. I’m relieved.

Me – I’ve never broken up with anyone.

* Uninsert Wavy Memory/Dream Sequence *

Dear Leslie Feist,

A few months ago I announced to the world my love for you. My respect for your music. My infatuation with your cover of Inside and Out. My violent jealousy when that emoturd Conor Oberst from Blight O’My Eyes butchered Mushaboom.

You will * gets emotional * always be 7 feet tall in my memory.

HOWEVER! Ahem, sorry for shouting. But as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’ve not so much as mentioned you in weeks! And nothing. I was hoping by now you would get the idea. I want to break up with you, girl! But it’s hard to do when you never stop by. So, since ‘stand-offish’ ain’t cutting it, I’m gonna try, er, ‘move-onish.’

I’m sure you have questions, first among them being ‘Who is she?’. Well, funny story, actually. See, whenever I would listen to you on radioblogclub, I would occasionally hear a song or two by someone named Sarah Harmer. Well, to be blunt, I freakin’ loved her music, but her voice had this bit of a country twang to it, a little whiskey and a bit of aged testosterone. I imagined her to be a gruff, flannel wearing type, splitting logs on the weekend, and whatnot.

Then I saw her. Since you’re both Canadian rock stars, I imagine you know what I’m about to say. She’s absolutely lovely. But I bet you didn’t know that she and I spent our formative years only 60 miles apart (she’s from Kingston, don’t you know?). And we both enjoyed The Tragically Hop. Er, Hip. Whatever.

Plus, she’s absolutely lovely. Grrr. She’s my new blog girlfriend. But don’t worry. You’ll get over me, Leslie.

And it will be surprisingly easy.

I ain't no vision, I am the man
who loves you inside out
backwards and forwards with
my heart hanging out
I love no other way
What am I gonna do if we lose that fire?