Saturday, August 11, 2007

In which I explode, then ramble

The DSL is still out, and Qwest has made me hate them ten times more than I already did by making me wait around from 10-2 for a technician who never showed up, and when I called to complain, they told me he would come back after 4:30. I thought that was fishy, but they promised. So I was dying to get out of the house and ended up hanging out and talking to a friend for a couple of hours. When I got home at 4:27, I found a message on my machine from 4:03 from the tech saying he was sorry he missed me. I called him and gave him an earful, but he claimed it was too late and he'd maybe get to me tomorrow, but would probably call Monday. HATE!

To calm myself and pass some time at home, with no internet, no cable, no unwatched Netflix, no other people, no unwashed dishes, no chores I felt like doing, I decided to read the rest of my current book, which is excellent. Then I went to the evil empire of Marts and bought a bike pump and a lock so I can finally maybe start riding the bike. It's so clever of me to finally get around to this after the bulk of the summer has already slipped away, but it's also quite typical of me. To be perfectly honest. So that's what I plan to try tomorrow.

Now I'm at a coffee shop with wireless, but not the one I was at the other night. I didn't like this one when I first moved here, but it's working for me tonight. Plus I can get to Google/Blogger here. So win-win-win. Oh, ha! A fellow laptopper in here just answered his phone and his ringtone is "Uptown Girl." For some reason that cracks me right up. This reminds me of a half-baked theory I have about being able to tell a lot about a person by their choice of ringtones.

I used to have a similar theory about music collections and pretentiously would judge people, especially guys, based on their musical taste. I'm sure I was insufferable. During my first year of college, I remember a boy coming to pick me up for a date. We'll call him A. I had met him at church camp when I was 15 and we had one of those famously dramatic camp romances and then exchanged a couple of letters (remember life before email) before forgetting about one another. The 30 miles between us might as well have been 1000 when we were too young to drive. So anyway, I worked at the ice cream store a couple of years later with girl who went to the same private school as A. She invited me to a party at her house and this boy came, but I didn't show up because I got nervous at the last-minute. So he suavely called me from her house and we made a date for the next weekend.

So I was all ready for him to pick me up and was quietly freaking out. Then, in the distance I heard the distinctive sound of a boom car and my heart filled with dread. He rolled up to my parents' house in a VW Rabbit that was totally pimped out and lowered. I was horrified, standing there in all black (down to the fingernails and excess of eyeliner). A was super cute in that rich white b-boy way you might remember from the early 90s, but I was firmly into skater boys and surly punks. When I got in the car, I realized the booming bass was coming from a Depeche Mode CD, which was pretty cute because he had dedicated DM's "Somebody" to me at the end-of-camp dance and we had danced romantically to it. He handed me a CD case full of stuff I really, really liked and said I could pick all the music.

A., who lived in Ballard, had driven all the way up to my hometown to get me and then turned around and took me back to Seattle to hang out. At one point early in the drive, he braked hard, and a huge stream of CDs came sliding out from under the passenger seat--all rap and hip-hop. He had obviously hidden all the stuff he thought I wouldn't like because he intuitively knew I was a snob. He was embarrassed and I was totally charmed. We only went out for a few months before drifting apart for good. I should have known it wouldn't work out when he was skeeved out by Beth's and didn't like Capitol Hill because of all the "weirdos."

For years, I still thought musical taste was the way to determine my compatibility with other people. So much of my social life has revolved around music. There's a soundtrack to my life and I've formed and strengthened most of my friendships while listening to an album in somebody's room, or at a show, or while talking about bands. I admit I once thought I could never be with somebody who doesn't share this with me, but I'm letting that go. I'm still totally obsessed with music, but there are so many other ways of connecting. Maybe I'm only just figuring this out now because I'm living here where there's really no music scene like I'm used to and I meet people in new ways now. I'll still listen to the Posies, but I'll listen to your stuff, too. Even if I don't like it.

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