Started my day yesterday with an 8K solo hike. As I was leaving the house I almost turned around and went back. I was feeling so down I just wasn’t wanting to do anything. I forced myself to march on though, and near the end of my trek, I noticed how much better my mental state was. You really can walk your blues away it seems. I’ll put up a few photos later in this post.
My other big “accomplishment” for the day was finishing the Ricky Gervais’ After Life series on Netflix. It’s the story of how a man comes to deal with losing the love of his life to breast cancer. Although nothing so traumatic has happened to me of course, I could still relate to some of the insights and lessons the protagonist gains as he moves on with life. I confess I cried during the last episode, which might say more about me than the show. I honestly can’t recommend the series though. I think if you aren’t in a certain frame of mind it’s all just a little too dark. Or maybe British humor (humour) just goes over my head. I did enjoy most of the music and songs that played during some scenes. Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now was the background tune to the final scene in the last episode.
Here’s the trailer for Season Three if you want a taste:
It should come as no surprise that my plans for Sunday evening included drinking enough beer to make forgetting easier. I started that process at It Doesn’t Matter and was making some early progress when things changed. A message popped up on my phone from “Inez”, someone I hadn’t heard from in several months. She said she was in Barretto and asked if I wanted to meet and catch up. I said sure, and we agreed to rendevous at BarCelona when she was finished at the beauty salon.
It was a little surreal seeing her again. We’d actually only had one “date” way back when and it really hadn’t gone all that well. We stayed in touch for a while after that on Facebook but had drifted apart to the point of no direct contact. I guess what triggered her message was that I had seen her in an outdoor restaurant as I walked by during the Hash last week. And now here she was sitting with my drunk ass on the rooftop of BarCelona. We had a nice view of the Central Park Reef hotel and she said she had never been. I told her about how nice it was and she wanted to go there. So, I made a date with her for March 13, her first available off day.
Well, I know she is not the “one” or anything like that. I think we will remain firmly in the friend zone and I’m fine with that. Still, it was strange that she happened to step back into my life at this particular time. I realized that I had been looking backward and dwelling on what I lost, and now suddenly, I had something to look forward to. Funny how that works. And thank you for that, Inez.
Here are the photos from my hike I promised:
Relive it here if you have a hankering.
It’s Hash Monday so I’ll be back on trail this afternoon. Look for a full report tomorrow.
Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels The dizzy dancing way you feel As every fairy tale comes real I've looked at love that way But now it's just another show You leave 'em laughing when you go And if you care, don't let them know Don't give yourself away I've looked at love from both sides now From give and take, and still somehow It's love's illusions I recall I really don't know love at all
Joni Mitchell has gifted us with an impressive legacy of music. Too bad she went as nuts as fellow Canuck Neil Young. Sometimes, you have to separate the art from the artist.
Speaking of which, I’ve long meant to comment on the use of music and lyrics on your blog. It’s almost as if rock and pop are like a vox populi Bible for you: the holy scripture by which you define your life. If so, what lessons would you say you’ve learned from this scripture?
Yes, I was (am) a fan of their music. Hell, I owned every Neil Young album he ever made (yeah, I’m talkin’ vinyl). I try not to think of the politics when I listen to his music these days.
As to music being my “holy scripture”, I’d never considered that concept before or what I might have learned through my worship. Perhaps my ephinany is simply that I am not alone–every emotion I’ve ever felt has been expressed by someone far more talented than me in lyrics. There is comfort in that shared experience.