Monthly Archives: January 2016

Quotes by Me – Three

As stated in Quotes by Me – Two, over the years I have jotted down some random things I have said out loud that I was mildly impressed with because I am not typically eloquent.  Often, in the middle of an emotionally grueling conversation, I’ll say something that I think is brilliant, but the other person couldn’t care less because we are in the middle of a heart wrenching conversation for crying out loud and who the fuck stops in the midst of a discussion about the state of your relationship to pull out a moleskin journal and jot down semi narcissistic sentences?  I do.  One day I’ll find someone who appreciates that.

Not all of these self proclaimed quotes were said during an emotional onslaught, but a good amount of them were.  Agony is a form of creation, I believe.  Actually, I don’t know if I really believe that, but it sounded good just now in my head and seems appropriate.  It’s like when you tell people everything will be okay but you really have no idea… it just sounds good.  Maybe that agony sentence can be another quote.  I’m not in agony right now though.  I’m currently drinking a pint of some bougie IPA while waiting for my flight out of Rhode Island and deciding if I will ever attempt to see the cute boy from the first plane again.  Before I get too tempted to digress into that story, I’m going to stop here and get back on track.

I held on to some of these quotes for a while, thinking that I would use my fleeting poetic moments in a screenplay or something one of these days.  But like the bookmarks that you finally let loose after years of thinking that you will go back to that book you feel you need to finish (in my case, Thomas Paine’s Common Sense) and you come to terms with yourself that you will never finish reading that book so you can take out the bookmark… I’m taking out the bookmark of these quotes. I’m letting them go.  To a fucking blog.

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There is a tombstone marked, “Muse” where I now lie dead.

 

Meme_cheers
Let us cheers to your dying day so we can all skip the heartache.

That’s a photograph of me at a wedding and the quote was inspired by a mixture of a boyfriend I had a very long time ago and a recent revelation I had about mourning often being a semi selfish act.

 

Meme_pain
Don’t be scared of pain.  All it does is hurt.

A random Australian I met at a show inspired that one.

Meme_whiskey
Whiskey unveils thoughts you never knew you had.

I took that picture while drinking whiskey and reading on my flight back from Australia and thinking that I will never be as good with words as Charles Dickens was.  And obviously thinking about whiskey and other secrets.

 

 

Meme-GraceOfHell
By the grace of Hell, our paths will cross again.

That’s the Viking and E.  We seem to always climb fucking mountains on our days off.

 

Meme_uncertainty
Uncertainty is the waiting room I’ll spend my whole life in.

That’s Cody!  I didn’t take this picture… but I always loved this photograph of him.  I said that sentence one day when I was with the boy with the white hair.  He was actually the one that said it was a good quote and I should write it down.

 

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The Risks We Take to Blossom

Last night I was reminded of my life rule which I sometimes abandon.

Caitlin’s Rule: Give everyone the time of day.

My first mention of this is in I Dare You, but the wrestler reminded me of it last night as we were sitting in his backyard spying on these weird birds and discussing Alan Watts.  We went on to recognize how vastly different our lives would be had we not randomly started talking to one another at a bar one evening a long time ago.  I hate to give him this pseudonym, because he is so much more than just a wrestler, but for the sake of writing, it’s the easiest and most concise way to identify him.

A few years back, I was at the height of my insanity.  I was about two steps away from becoming Miss Havisham, so I made a conscious decision to break my funk.  I was going to force myself to be social, because when we want to shut everyone out, is usually the times when we need someone the most.  I had a whole list of things I needed to do to help myself crawl out of my self induced lair of misery, and one of them was to try to meet someone new everyday for thirty days.  This was day one, and I had just got done with work, so it was an excellent time to attempt to do something social.  I’ll start tomorrow, I thought.  Because what I really wanted to do was grab a beer and a bite to eat and read my book alone.  I went to a restaurant, sat at the bar and did just that.  I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I think simply by making the decision to try to be more social, I was naturally a lot more friendly and receptive to others without consciously trying to be.

I did notice that the boy a few seats down from me was hot, but I didn’t think about it more than, “oh that guy is hot.”  Then it was out of my mind and I forgot about him as I escaped into The Last of the Mohicans.  I’m kind of immune to hot boys.  In my experience, the socially awkward kid with a pot belly is usually more interesting than the quintessential “hot guy.”  However, I have learned to give everyone the time of day because they do usually surprise you.  The wrestler is what I would describe as a quintessential hot guy, but he turned out to be one of the most interesting people I know.

Him being hot would later prove to be a detriment to us (unbeknownst to him) romantically speaking.  I have a pot belly, I’m perpetually pale and I often forget to shave my legs.  He has perfect hair and a perfect smile and like a 20-pack abdomen and legs that are so toned that you wouldn’t even have to remove the skin to study quadriceps muscles.  What am I supposed to do with that?!  Anyway, as Hawkeye and Uncas were taking me through the French and Indian War, I was interrupted by the hot guy to my left who started laughing really loud.  He was all by himself and started laughing very hard for what seemed like no apparent reason.  At first I just smiled to myself, but then he kept going so I couldn’t help but to start laughing as well.  He was only a few seats down from me, so naturally, we HAD to start talking because now we were both laughing, though I had no idea as to what.  To be honest, I can’t even remember what it was he was laughing at.  He told me, and that’s what started our whole relationship, but I honestly can’t remember what it was because that wasn’t the important part.  The important part was that we continued to talk, and had a really fantastic conversation which resulted in me sitting at that bar for far longer than I was intending.

Due to my state at the time, I would not have normally been so friendly, but there was something very innocent about him.  He was absolutely in no way the typical kind of guy that begins talking to you at the bar.  The conversation flowed and I was not dreading in the back of my mind when he would pull the “let me see that beautiful smile again” line, or the “when can I see you again” question.  I can tell when someone is trying to pick you up, and he had no intentions of trying to sleep with me that night.  He was like me, just one person enjoying another’s company and open to doing that again.  So we did.  The following week, I met up with him and we attempted to play trivia but desperately sucked at it.

We went on to date for a while, and that tale is worth telling one day, but this is not that day.  However, I do hate when writers fail to recognize the most interesting part of a story.  So, I will tell you a little about the beginning and tell you more about him because I can imagine you are all wondering what the hell kind of a wrestler he is.  Yes, he is a full on, professional wrestler who was with WWE and on Monday Night Raw.  The funny thing is, I didn’t even realize that until our third hang-out session.

During our first conversation on that first night, our “jobs” did get brought up, but we were not having one of those annoying small talk type conversations, so I believe it was just a subject that got brought up momentarily and not really discussed or thought about much.  I do remember him saying, “I’m in the entertainment industry,”  which did segway into him disclosing that he was a wrestler, but for some reason I did not really think about it or think to myself, oh, that’s weird.  I think our jobs was just the B roll of the conversation, and we were actually discussing something else that was related.  Point being, I left him that night not even a little bit thinking about what he did for a living.

The following time I saw him, again, it didn’t really get brought up.  He is very interested in a lot of things, just like me, so the conversations were always excitedly jumping from one conviction to the other without pause to discuss the simple things like, where are you from? or, how is work?  Those questions were replaced with, “if there is a minimum wage, don’t you think that there should be a maximum wage?” and “how much of the Simpson’s do you think is a social commentary?”  At some point during the third date we hopped into his car which I discovered to be the type of car that I would never imagine myself in.  Basically, a very expensive car.  At this point, it finally fucking dawned on me that this guy is a real, professional wrestler and how in the hell have I not realized this yet?  I remember I said, “do I need to google you?”

He responded with a laugh and, “No!  Please don’t google me.  Everything you need to learn about me you should learn from me.”  I respected that notion, but of course the first thing I did after leaving him that night was google his name.  First thing I see on the search is all of these pictures of him flying through the air and his wrestling name (which was nothing close to his real name) and lots of spandex.  I literally started laughing out loud and shook my head with an, “oh my god,” and then exited out of the internet.  I didn’t even click on anything and was probably only on the search page for fifteen seconds.  He was right, I didn’t want to get to know him that way.  After all these years, I still have never read anything about him on the internet.  Everything I know about him I learned from him.

We have somehow managed to keep in touch, and we have been just friends for quite some time now.  The main point of this is that the wrestler has profoundly made an impact on my life.  I would be very different, and I know he would be too, had I never given him the time of day at that stupid bar.  We have both grown a lot I think, since that time when we were first dating.  The way I have grown I know that to some degree, is influenced by him.  His knowledge and interests and attitude towards life has rubbed off on me and I know that I have to some measure, done the same for him.

So my friends, give everyone the time of day even when you’re feeling antisocial.  You never know what could happen.  I think this is my way of reminding myself.

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” -Anaïs Nin

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2015 was Epic – Part 2

As stated in Part 1, my 2015 resolution had been to visit another country.  I had gone to Australia in June, and by September I was packing up a backpack with Fat Face and my sister as the three of us argued over who was going to carry the fat Lonely Planet travel book in their bag.

Raven and I had been talking about traveling somewhere together for a while, but it never seemed realistic because we are always broke.  This year was different though, so I basically made the executive decision that if we were going to travel somewhere together we had to do it NOW.  It was the first time that we both happened to have a little bit of money (well, I had a little bit of money and my Dad likes my sister more than me so he gave her a little bit of money), and we both had nothing tying us down.  I knew I had to take advantage of this timing.  Who knows, in another year or whatever, she may be in school or have a job that she can’t take time away from or get pregnant or anything!  Knock on wood.  So, we started googling “cheap and safe countries.”  Well, I started googling.  Raven sat on the couch and watched Lifetime movies.

A bunch of Eastern Europe destinations kept popping up.  I’ve always wanted to go to Istanbul, and I also kept hearing how amazing Budapest is, so we figured we’d do those two cities plus a few in between.  The trip went:

Budapest, Hungary > Sibiu, Romania > Bucharest, Romania > Sofia, Bulgaria > Istanbul, Turkey.

I wanted to go to the obscure countries that most people don’t visit when traveling to Europe.  The next most important decision was who to bring.  Fat Face was our first choice.  We wanted a guy, mostly for safety purposes.  Not that Fat Face could provide any protection whatsoever, so it was more about the facade.  Also, he and Raven know each other well and get along, but most importantly, Fat Face is not too annoying.  He absolutely does the most annoying things sometimes (like telling me he will be over in 15 minutes and then shows up an hour and a half later, strolling in like everything is just dandy), but he doesn’t have the annoying type of characteristics that one may be concerned about with a travel partner.  For example, he doesn’t snore, he doesn’t eat gross, he’s not stubborn and he doesn’t fidget his legs or anything like that.  Also, he’s a pretty go-with-the-flow kind of guy.  However, his mustache was immediately annoying and that was the very first thing that Raven and I took care of.

Fat Face has a beard (kind of) and he had let his mustache grow into his mouth.  It was fucking gross.  He kept licking the ends of it, so the hairs were always moist and for some reason he thought that this was acceptable.  Um no.  Raven and I got on the plane and informed him that the very first thing we are doing once we arrive at the first hostel, is trimming that thing.  He tried to fight us on it at first, but quickly realized there was absolutely no way he was going to win that battle, so he conceded.  I would have chopped that thing off in his sleep otherwise.

I just got worked up over his mustache again and lost my original train of thought.  Getting back to asking Fat Face to come with us, he said he wasn’t sure at first, which I kind of took as a no.  A couple of weeks later I got a text from him out of nowhere that simply said, “I’m coming with you guys.”  It made me smile.

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Yes, he is purposely being cheesy.

On the long plane ride, an older woman next to us thought that it was acceptable to lay down in the middle of the aisle.  She took her entire body, and laid it onto the floor of the center aisle.  Yes, the MAIN aisle.  The one that the drink carts go down.  Amazing.  It would be a solid five minutes before a flight attendant would come and inform the little old woman that it was probably one of the weirdest things that she has ever witnessed.

I loved Budapest immediately when the taxi driver pulled all the way up onto the sidewalk to drop us off at our hostel.  It was also the most beautiful city I have ever seen.  This wasn’t necessarily because of the natural landscape, it was because of the city landscape; the architecture.  Every single structure you pass is so pretty that you have to stop and marvel.  It was a good warm-up city too, because we were most in our element there.  It’s the most “Westernized” of all the places we visited.  It kind of felt like being in New York, but replace broadway with opera, English with Hungarian, pizza with kebabs and add thousands of more years of history and beauty.  Oh, and there are no fat people.  No fatties anywhere in Eastern Europe for that matter.  Well, Bucharest, Romania had some stocky middle-aged folks… but there was probably only eleven of them in the whole city and I’ll get to that later.

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Parliament building.

One of the great things about being in Second World countries, is that there are not as many bullshit rules and regulations.  You can drink outside, which is very convenient.  I doubt that it’s been “legalized,” it’s probably  just not illegal because their legislation doesn’t have a stick up their ass like the American legislative branch. We spent a lot of time on bicycles that we rented, and cruised from park to park, grabbing a beer and sitting in the grass enjoying the simple life.  People do that there still… go to parks and socialize.  The parks were packed with young people just sitting around and talking to one another.

One of the parks.

One of the parks.

There was a big palace thing that we were able to explore because like I said, they don’t bother with stupid regulations.  I’m not sure what this “palace” was exactly, or if it was still functional.  I suppose if I wanted to, I could fairly easily find out, but I’ll save that for a time when I’m feeling intellectually inspired.  Right now, I’m just drinking orange juice and picking at my toes, wondering why I was cursed with having Flintstone feet.  Anyway, we could easily walk into what were caverns I suppose, and we followed them down and around until we were in the pitch black, below ground and feeling like medieval prisoners.  It was very cool.  That kind of thing would be roped off if American’s had anything to do with it, so we got a nice jolt of adrenaline from the exploration.

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We found a restaurant that we considered ourselves regulars of because we went twice.  They had a drink called Tokyo Sex which Raven became obsessed with and Fat Face kept saying obnoxiously loud like a toddler.  “Lets get us some Tokyo Sex!  Whoo!  Can I get a fuck yeah?!”  This is real sentences that come from his mouth.

Face Face, Raven and Tokyo Sex.

Face Face, Raven and Tokyo Sex.

It was actually pretty funny and turned into an inside joke for the rest of the trip.  One could easily spend two weeks in that city, so there was a lot that we didn’t get to do and see.  Fat Face kept talking about this damn shoe monument.  I mean, I should at least pretend to feel compelled to pay my respects to the Hungarians who were murdered by the Nazi’s, (which is what this monument is commemorating) but it was just a couple dozen of pairs of bronze cast shoes by the river and I am a desensitized asshole like most of us, and I much rather wanted to go to a medical museum and look at what they used for abortion tools back in the day.  It was pretty gruesome.

Old school abortion tools.

Old school abortion tools.

Luckily, the three of us got into a fight the following day, so we split up and Fat Face was able to go see his fucking shoe monument that he kept talking up.  Raven went back to the hostel to use wifi for hours and I almost got molested by a creepy old man at a citadel.  We were secluded, he was clearly mentally ill, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his slack jaw with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, then him pulling out his penis, obviously expecting me to do something with it.  Gross.  I literally ran away.  When we all decided to love each other again, I asked Fat Face how the shoe monument was, and he said, “It was just a bunch of shoes… but it was nice.”  He should learn to always listen to me.

I stole this picture from Fat Face's Facebook photos. These are the damn shoes.

I stole this picture from Fat Face’s Facebook photos. These are the damn shoes.

The Turkish baths were incredible.  They are essentially big indoor natural hot pools.  The water comes from deep below the surface.  We floated around in those for a while and befriended a Canadian opera singer who was on tour.  I think right around this time is when Raven decided that when she grows up, she wants to be Princess Jasmine.  She was just chillin’ in the water, ignoring Fat Face and I as she fantasized about this bath house being her backyard, and cute servant boys bringing her Tokyo Sex’s on silver platters.  There were saunas as well, but they were quite literally only four feet wide.  Fat Face and I went inside one, squeezed in next to one another, then just said, “okay, that was fun,” and walked out after eight seconds.

Another merch person I know is Hungarian and lives in Budapest.  I gave him a shout and after bringing us to a rocker bar that had people thrashing around so hard that I thought they were going to break their own necks, he took us to a castle up on this mountain top right in the city.  As we walked around the outside of this incredible old castle that made you feel like you may look over your shoulder and see Lady Guinevere, Raven was becoming honest to god depressed because she is not Princess Jasmine.   Or Lady Guinevere.  I get honest to god depressed when I watch Dawson’s Creek and have to come to terms with the fact that Pacey Witter is not a real person that I can fall in love with.  However, I still try to will into existence that Joshua Jackson (the actor his plays the role) might magically be exactly like Pacey and somehow I’ll run into him and be with him forever.  In the same way, Raven was dealing with the fact that she will never be Princess Jasmine, while she was simultaneously trying to figure out a way that she might be able to will that into existence.  She just wants to be able to wear elegant flowing gowns, stroll through glorious towers and cobblestone paths while sipping on mimosas and looking pretty all day and night.  The lead singer of one of the bands that I have worked for actually lives in part of that motherfucking castle we were at, so when Raven heard that, she was prepared to partake in a blind marriage.

At night, we hit up a couple of “ruins bars.”  They were by far the coolest bars I’ve ever been to, but bar isn’t really the right word.  They’re more like… old abandoned buildings that are considered in ruins, and people have just gone in there and started selling alcohol and playing music and hanging out.  Like I said, minimal regulations.  There were a bunch of different rooms, but the center is all open air.  An open aired courtyard surrounded by four walls with rooms.  Each area had its own thing going on.  One area was more like a club.  It had a DJ and lame lights and all that nonsense.  The three of us were nice and tipsy at this point, so we thought it would be a good idea to dance.  Raven actually looks cool dancing, so I just try to imitate her, and then Fat Face thinks he is Michael Jackson when he is drunk, so he was off trying to impress the Hungarians with his dance moves, but ended up falling on his ass instead.  It was beautiful.  We laughed a lot that night.  Another area was a hookah lounge, then there were the bar areas of course.  There was also an area that had a live band playing weird experimental music and there was an area with people making food and then my favorite part… just a bunch of interesting art all over the walls.

The entrance to one of the ruins bars.

The entrance to one of the ruins bars.

 

Raven and I inside the bar laughing at who knows what.

Raven and I inside the bar laughing at who knows what.

The day that we were meant to leave by train to head to Romania, was the day that thousands of Syrians poured into the Budapest train stations…

To be continued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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