Excuse me for living but didn't you give me all that beer?

So the other day B and I were having drinks at the King and I, where I was telling him about the divine logic that is CSS [he's thinking of starting his own blog--can you imagine it?] Somehow, the conversation drifted to other things...specifically, this guy I was maybe-interested in.

"Oh, don't go there," B said. "He has ISH-SHOES".

He said it just like that, while wagging his finger back and forth like a metronome.

"ISH. SHOES." Issues. Big ones.

Oh dear, I thought, well, I'll tread lightly then, thank you.
But then I asked B, "Hey, has anyone ever asked you about me? As in, 'So, tell me about that Jason feller?' And if so, do you tell them that I have issues too?"

"Well," B said. "First of all. No one's ever asked me about you. And second of all, no, I wouldn't say that about you."

I thought this was particularly generous of B, since while we were dating he saw me pretty up close. "Issues" is merely a catch-all phrase to describe any ball-and-chain, pair of cement shoes, unresolved trauma from the past, naughty, dirty, or destructive habits or obsessive / compulsive anxiety-inducing nail-biting thoughts. While those around us who we must count on as our boy-dating references might call them "issues," they're only problems for us unless we decide they are. I've always thought I've had to shoulder some rather hefty issues, but lately I've been realizing how insignificant they are. The Zamboni on Monday merely yawned into his fist and pretended to jot down some notes as I rambled on about my fucked-up past. Gawd I wish he had a couch. His standard reply is "you're being too hard on yourself."

More on this later, perhaps. I have to go to work. I need to stop writing things like blog entries and Friendster flirtations at 7 am.

Listening to Southern Cross from the album Use Your Voice by Mason Jennings [self-consciously inserted via iTunes]

Posted by jason at December 9, 2024 07:54 AM