waiting on George.
in Thoughts and Feelings
as artist friend, beats, caps, conversations, crush, False, half, hip hop artist, jazz player, luxurious baths, player, secret crush, sentence, song boi, sort, tonight, two and a half years, uarts, WERE, whiskers
I have decided that I have a boyfriend. His name is Frank. Or George. Yes, George. There was a really cute jazz player in one of my classes at UArts named George who I had a very secret crush on. I never said one word to him. But I sure did think he was cute.
But see, I am tired of talking to guys at bars. Tonight we played a set, and afterward, I got into the longest conversation with some guy. And I barely talked at all. He just kept on saying sentence after sentence about life on tour. Ha. I didn’t mention that I’ve toured for about two and a half years, cumulatively. I figured that would just prolong the conversation. At some point into the talk (in which I mostly just stared and nodded my head) he admitted to me that he is very shy.
False, I thought.
I SORT OF WISH YOU WERE SHY, I thought, too. And yes, I thought it in ALL CAPS.
Luckily, a girl I had just met started talking to me. I thanked her profusely with my eyes. And then asked her if the guy was still nearby. He had meandered on by then, but man, I really could have used George.
You know, my boyfriend.
Did I mention he plays jazz?
Oh, he’s really really good.
And then another guy. He told me that he loves our song, Boi Boi Boi. Though he called it Oh Boy. Anyway, he said he has this hip-hop artist friend who makes fantastic beats and would probably be interested in collaborating. Okay, then. So he asked for my number. You had me at hip-hop, I think, so I agree. Then he admits he wants my number, anyway. Not for music purposes. Oh Boy, is right.
George, where are you when I really need you?
I guess it’s nice to be flattered, but the conversations and the games and the fact that I am about as interested in these guys as most cats are in taking long luxurious baths. With Dogs. And then getting their whiskers plucked out, one by one. Well, all that is tiresome.
And tonight, I’m feeling it.
And I know, I KNOW. Life is really terrible, Jessica; guys hit on you. I realize that this is not even close to the end of the world and this is not a tragedy and there are real problems in the world and this is not one of them. It’s just, when I wasn’t single, it wasn’t an issue. I wasn’t single, period. But now, you know, I am. And the truth is, I will be in a relationship again at some point in time. But I just don’t want to go through all these boring conversations and weird date-ish type situations to get there.
So perhaps I will just date tons of guys. Fun. And I have the smile and nod down, which will be quite useful. And thenĀ perhaps I shall round up a bunch of cats, jump in the hot tub with them, pluck out our whiskers (well, if I had whiskers, anyway), respectively, and invite a few mangy dogs in, too.
Sorry to sound redundant, but: FUN.
DOUBLE FUN, I mean.
lullaby
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Performance, video
as God, hotel, importance of a thesis statement, leather, passive voice, piano, piano bench, something, tight leather pants, time, uarts, video. lullaby
There is a piano at this hotel.


