22 April 2007

Instantly Single

Tomorrow morning will be the kind that everyone can identify with: the crappy-feeling, first after a break up kind of morning. It will be that much harder to pry myself out of bed, on a Monday, when NPR starts blasting at 5:58am. Nothing is particularly pretty at that hour, especially when I remember that it is the debut morning of my singlehood....super. Warning: possible sarcasm dripping from the rest of my commentary.

Normally I prefer to keep my personal life out of my blog. However, the method of this particular break-up was so noteworthy that I couldn't resist. I'm hoping that this story makes others who are in in my predicament feel better about being unexpectedly single. I preface further commentary with the following statement: no men were injured during the making of this blog.


I have been dumped in a variety of equally unfortunate circumstances. But I do have to say (in fairness to former boyfriends)that my exes were all kind enough to end things in person. Now I realize that certain factors of my latest relationship made doing the deed in person nearly impossible. Long distance relationships and break-ups are always a bad combination (long distance is bad enough). And I curse the creator of instant messaging in this case. To get the "we need to talk" line via real-time e-messaging is about as pleasant as getting a colonoscopy (not that I would know, of course). In our technologically-advanced world, surely he could have least picked up the phone, right? Like my brother said, "that is sooo 2007."

Not only did our romantic ties get severed online, but he was also careful to immediately update his Facebook profile from "in a relationship" to looking for: "whatever I can get." Nice. Very classy. And he seemed like such a nice guy...famous last words (often heard right before some bomb is dropped on the unsuspecting). To be honest, he actually is a nice guy, and I am truly sad things didn't last. But he does lack skills of the relationship-ending variety. I have a feeling he is not alone in this modern world we live in, where emotional short-cuts are made easy by technology.

I hope my sad (and fairly lame) tale helps someone cope with new found freedom, or at least provides a good laugh. In closing, I choose to leave my readers with a profound thought on this topic: take note eligible bachelors....I am now available (again).

14 April 2007

Night Music

All it takes for an incredible performance, is to have exceptional musicians. I could be in a hotel room crowded with people in folding chairs. Or I could be at showcase, people murmuring and shuffling in after the music has begun. Or it could be absolutely ideal, like it was last night: perfect lighting, intimate venue, and an audience of loyal fans. I have seen Girlyman in all of the above settings. Predictably, last night was the best. But it wasn't the external factors that made the show so ideal. I hold fast to my first statement. All I needed was to have Ty, Doris, and Nate up on the stage, smiling and singing in their perfectly intertwining harmonies.

The music was made even better by how radiantly happy the three of them looked as they played and sang. From time to time, they would look at one another and just beam. I have never seen people who so clearly love what they do. And all of them had effortless rapport with the people in the crowd. They joked and told stories as though we were gathered in their living room. It was a satisfying evening from the first notes, to the last waves as they left the stage after a double encore. They even took the time after the show to greet their fans, sign autographs, and hold babies. It doesn't hurt my impression of the evening that I got to speak to them, get an autograph from all, and a hug from Nate. As cheesy as it may sound, all fans of Girlyman will know what I mean when I say: Doris, Nate and Ty: you "Amaze Me" every time.

Mother Doing Good

Self Magazine has an award contest called Women Doing Good. It honors women who give their time and talents to charitable organizations. I k...