First Bar

My first night out at bars and drinking, and the one thing no one ever told me and I never really thought of was my problem. I had to pee. I had to pee like crazy! Hawaiian punch, pee. Water, pee. Tea, pee. Walking from Chinatown to Faneuil Hall, pee pee pee! I was going crazy with all these drinks and all that peeing!
I wore my favorite girl jeans with the purple Indian tank-top with the ripply design in front, and the straps that rounded in a quarter moon rather than a half, showing my bra straps off to the world in back. Wore sneakers, and glad for it. We had so much fun! Becca didn't dress up too much, but the boys were her friends--Dario, her best friend, then Corey, Tom and Bobby, lesser known friends. At first meet Dario struck me as quiet and made me slightly timid. Later I decided he was the most down-to-earth of the bunch, and likely the most intelligent.
Bobby Row drew my attention like a flea, hopping this way and that, drawing me to follow and watch, wanting to join in his jumpy antics, but not wanting to put myself--or anyone else--in danger the way he did. Hyper and talkative, but not very funny at first, simply because he found himself TOO funny. Short red hair, a matted red bear and mustache(?) Medium build. Drunk-walk. As the night wore on he drank more and more and more...more than I've ever seen ANYBODY drink...and he was so out of it. He talked to me very seriously, kept taking my hand and stroking it, and I looked in his eyes sadly, with a slight smile, a sad-for-him smile. He talked to me like Nick did...in that half-slurred redneck-way they have, and I felt like he was lying to me. I don't think he was...but definitely sweet-talkin' me in his drunken stupor.
Tom was cool. He looked very normal, not an easy face to pick from the crowd, but pretty cute, with shortish hair and a lot of freckles and/or pimples. He seemed to read my mind. When he said the word "chick" he said excuse me, looked directly at me, and corrected himself. Later, he tried making me feel paranoid...and somehow he knew I was. How irritating to be so translucent! How naiive I am. At the car (Becca drove me to Rowley) he offered me the front seat, when only moments before, I had told her I'd be shocked if he didn't. He's one of the only guys I have EVER met with manners. They are few.
Corey seemed willing to dance at the bar, but I thought he was kidding when he asked me. Thin and tall, he reminded me of Eddy, that Jewish boy from my Dean's Book class. Apparently he's a sex fiend. Okay then...
Becca is usually very quiet. She seems to sit back and watch the others interact.
It was a good first-bar experience. I finished an entire glass of mudslide, and a third of a glass of Hawaiian punch. After the mudslide I was a little dizzy. But I balanced out and found my way home.

Raining in the Dance

Waking up in the black of night to harsh rumbling and streaks of light across the room is a beautiful experience. I want to feel the thunder rush through me, listen calmly to the rain drops against the window glass, first dripping, increasing tempo to a pounding state.

My off-and-on ex-boyfriend (of two and a half years) and myself used to stay awake through the storms. In the beginning, we were not used to sleeping beside one another, a new experience THAT was, and so I tossed in his bed until we both got up and sat on his mother's couch downstairs. We watched the new grandfather clock with a shocking calm: the shiny clock face, long hand ticking steadily, the smooth wooden top, which curved down like parted bangs around the face. The long gold-colored pendulum swinging from side to side, glinting in the slight light from the neighbor's porch.

Our position went from sitting, to leaning, to lying. The rain started on the windows in the roof, sliding down. The thunder rushed through us. We glanced at each other startlingly--I saw something like love reflected in his eyes. And together we ran out into the night, to dance in the rain, and prance down the street, spinning and touching and loving together. I swear that was when I lost my virginity. Right there in the rain, dancing with this strange boy in his long boxers and random t-shirt, probably still in socks: a love in silent enthusiasm.

Piano and Music

My sister and I are on the search for a dark piano song; so far there has been no luck with us. She is currently making noise on the piano at my side while I try in vain to listen to "Garden in my Room," by Merril Bainbridge.

I don't know much about Bainbridge other than that she is Australian singer from the '90s and is most famous for her "Mouth" song. Her music sounds mostly to be piano and maybe some guitar and bagpipes...her song "State of Mind" might even have some drums in it. Her songs tend to be slow, her voice sensual and low, exotic-sounding, like she's trying to draw one in with her beauty and then she's going to strike them down. Her songs are calming, easy to sing to, and "nice."

Carol of the Bells is the only dark-ish piano song I can think of. Most of the rest are too...chipper or slow. Beethoven does offer a few excellent choices, but for the most part, piano music is so dry. (I hope no lover of piano is reading this...) Troy was the only person I know to make up his own dark-sounding, fast-paced music. We even dated for a bit. I could listen to him for hours but decided not to--in the end-- for the sake of my indepedence.

The one band to not have let me down thus far is Korn. They constantly are changing their music so that it's never the same yet distinctly them. Jonathan's voice is original, like so many others...Serj Tankian comes to mind.

We will continue our search for the dark pianist, and I am sure we will find him or her eventually...feel free to leave me tips if you know of any.