Dropkick Murphys Angst

I don't know why I feel like this . . . well, maybe I do know why I feel like this, but there's nothing I can do about it, more than I currently am doing anyhow. I never expected the fairy tale . . . never wanted the fairy tale . . . but certainly didn't expect this either.

Let's see woke up late because I was having a good dream, unlike the previous dream that woke me up at six a.m. Managed to shower, read Saturday's paper. Then walked to town, ate the forbidden stroganoff at Noodle Bowl, looked at Arvo Part CD's, wondered if I should call A since I can't figure out which CD he has. Mused for a while if I should really go to NYC in February . . . maybe Europe instead, because knowing my luck I would run into him. Buy a book -- High Fidelity, so I have armor at the Starbucks. I'm done with it, hopefully the movie is better.

Have to sit at the big table at Starbucks, as it is the only thing open. Royal Oak Starbucks on a Sunday is all kids but someone my age sits across from me at the table. I look up; smile. I am even making the effort by not wearing headphones this time. And then his boyfriend walks in and they hug and talk about the gym. And the headphones go on. And for some reason I want to cry.

I took a good four years off, not looking for anything romantic. In truth, it was longer than that because I knew the restaurant boys were just dalliances. And I was fine. Now that I AM looking . . . well, I just get the feeling that it may not be there. That "he" doesn't exist. That there is no plan. That I may not have a "lobster". And that is very empty.

I know, I know, there is that whole "God made the earth round so you can't see too far ahead" thing I just stole from a movie and the idea that you can't be looking for something because you will miss what you weren't looking for . . . but really, what it comes down to is I don't have anyone to go to Dropkick Murphys with. I'll be damned if I'm going to miss it, great band, super small venue, but the thought of going alone terrifies me for some reason.

And I'll go . . . and I'll share that experience with 300 or so strangers and I hopefully will not get mugged in the parking lot. And life will go on . . .

And I have a great life, a wonderful family, fabulous friends (though not one in town is a Dropkick fan) and, dare I say it, a somewhat rewarding career. So I don't know what I have to bitch about . . . sorry.