My blog sucks

I never update it anymore, seeing as I supposes I just don't care anymore or haven't the energy or something like that. I think I really may be losing interest and that this blog is on its last legs. I've said that before, I know and we're still here. But at the present, I'm really not feeling this anymore. It really is too much of an effort.

Hate Christmas. Don't want to though. I really do pray for the time when I can enjoy it once again, but it just doesn't seem like that time is going to be anytime soon. The one positive is that my bestest buddy D Rock is home from Japan for a couple weeks, so that does compensate for the fact that Christmas is always a mess at my household. My sister, my mother and I (plus the dogs) exchange gifts while my dad sits in another room watching television. Love it, what a great time. Sis and I finally go give him his gifts. He doesn't even make the effort to get us anything. Great guy. Mom makes a nice little brunch. I called my dad three times to come eat and didn't get a response. Lovely. Normally we go to a friend of the family's on the 25th, but she was out of the country this year. So we were left with this mess. If you think your Christmas sucks, please come and spend it at my house. I dare you.

Wednesday night was the long awaited Tweed Blazer: One Night Only (again) concert, of which I was a part. Drove down to Hamilton, with Bertmos and D Rock (Beer came later, there was a mix up regarding the whole thing). Quite an impressive capacity crowd, standing room only. Many of them were there to support the opening act, some dude Warren. But I suspect that Tweed Blazer had just as big a following. Their set went pretty well, I think, lots of fun. I thought I did well with my guest vocals on "Patience" and "Lady in Red", but upon watching the video footage, I've decided never to sing again. Man, I was off-key, it was terrible. Even my OWN MOTHER agreed it wasn't very good. Maybe it was the lack of rehearsal on my part, maybe it was a bad song choice or the fact I couldn't really hear myself sing. Or perhaps, just perhaps, I fucking suck. I'm never watching the tape ever again, it was painful. So bad that I think I'm putting an end to whatever small singing career I had.

Still, it was a good experience overall, the show was fun, even if the after party was a massive bust. I tried flirting with some pretty good-looking girl in a green shirt at the show, though I got nowhere. We had breakfast at Denny's at like 4:00 AM, which was also pretty nice. Have I left anything out? Oh wait, I have. Yes, she was there.

I knew she would be, of course. We've exchanged emails every now and then (with an incident or two in between), but I haven't actually seen her in almost two years. I did include her on my Christmas mailing list this year, seeing as we're at least on friendly terms and she kindly replied. So I didn't think it would be such a big deal to see her after all this time. I mean it would be nothing, a friendly hello, nothing more. Would have no effect on me. I guess I should have known better.

First off, she looked GREAT, though I always thought she did. I guess I might have been a little happier (in a schadenfreude sense) if she got fat or something, but that's not the case. She was very sweet, basically apologizing for various things she's done, saying that she didn't mean to be hurtful. Seemed genuinely happy to see me. Asked me if I was seeing anyone (which I thought to be something of an odd question to ask). We chatted amiably for a little bit during the intermission and after the show. And then *poof*, she was gone, driven home by the dude she's 'sort of' seeing (according to her).

So is that it, is that my coda? "No hard feelings, have a good life", that sort of thing? Or in a couple of days do I drop her an email, saying it was nice to see you again, did you want to hang out sometime? I know what pretty much everyone is going to say. That I should let it go, that no good can come from it. She'll probably say 'no', if even respond at all, if my past experience with her (and other women) tells me anything. I should let go, but I can't. Makes me seem pretty sad, doesn't it? All I have is this pleasant memory to hold onto and some sick, faint hope. But all that is better than nothing, which is what I fear I'd be left with otherwise. Lordy, I wish I hadn't seen her again.