That Shizz is Fuzzed Up

you'll have to hold on, because upon re-reading my entry title, i'm totally having a laughing fit.

seriously though... "that shizz is fuzzed up." or, "my shizz is fuzzed up." how about, "that totally fuzzed my shizz all up in this bizznatch!" its like a P!nk album title gone crazy!

all so i didn't have a title that had cursing in it... why? you're not my two-year-old niece who compulsively repeats everything i say. you're not an intelligent parrot. you're not those kids i was babysitting sophomore year of college during reunion/commencement weekend who almost drowned right in front of me... are you? yes its true, yes i exaggerated A BIT, no, i'm not telling that story now. that's definitely a third date story.

i'm not actually sure what this entry is going to be about, but i've been reminded that i must blog as often as possible, and so i figure waiting for inspiration is the wrong strategy. i need to sit my ass down, open up the blog, and start an entry, and just see where the hell it goes. its not like i have to do a good job anyway. you people aren't paying me or anything... i could type complete jibber jabber and that would be just fucking fine. or something.

not really, though...

i am still unemployed. this does not please me. i do not let myself have fun when i'm unemployed, and did i tell you about that?

no. i just checked. i didn't.

i heart feist. i really and truly do. i love her voice, i love her music, i love her videos, which always feature her dancing very badly, but very enthusiastically, and looking quite happy to be doing it. feist is the shit. AND she rocks my shit. there. that's a preface.

when i have the inclination to trawl youtube for interesting things, i usually end up trawling for music videos. and several months ago, i had the good fortune to trawl for feist videos, which is how i really became familiar with her and her music. and how i became familiar with the video for "1 2 3 4", which is now being prominently featured in the first ads for the new ipod nano [with video]. bitch is 'bout to blow up big time. if anyone deserves to be linked so awesomely with a great product, rocketing her into mainstream america like a bitch on wheels, its leslie feist.

anyway, when i found this video, i fell in love with it, and shared it with anyone i could convince to sit still in front of my computer for four minutes. (which, given the amount of porn on my computer, can be a frightening prospect.) i shared it with my dad, who liked it, and was impressed. time passes. the ipod commercial comes out, and since he isn't as distracted by the visuals of the full video, he gets a chance to listen to the song, and he realizes he really likes it. so we have a conversation about how feist is wonderful, quirky, was roommates with peaches (yes, THAT peaches) in music school, can rock the banjo in a tune, etc.

we also talk about how jacked up i feel without a job. how worthless that tends to make me feel as a person. i'm not doing anything with my time. i force myself to go to the gym every day because at least that produces endorphins and makes me feel all right for a few hours. i don't feel like i deserve to go out, to see friends, to play video games, to have fun at all. like, if i insist on not being able to find a job, even though i'm certainly trying my damndest, well then i just don't get to do anything else. no movies. no coffee trips. no loafing in bookstores.

its not logical, and its certainly not a nice thing to do to myself. it is not, shall we say, "healthy behavior." but there it is. working on it. anyway. while i tell dad about feist, and my "josh sucks and doesn't deserve anything good in life" mode of existence, i also mention how much it doesn't make sense, and how unfair it is to treat myself that way, and that its ridiculous that i won't even buy myself a cd. which is like, what, sixteen dollars. dude, i can totally afford to buy myself a cd every now and then. but i haven't been willing to let myself.

three days pass. i'm hopping in the car to go do something. i don't remember what. obviously it wasn't that important. i stop and pick up the mail on my way out and throw it in the passenger seat so i'll remember to take it in when i get back home. i also riffle through it to see if i've gotten anything fun. actually, there is a yellow shipping envelope, with my name and address in dad's handwriting, and his return address on a label in the corner. which is completely odd and unexpected. i'm in town. what did he have to send me? what couldn't wait till the next time i see him?

so i open the envelope and tip out the contents, and there's no note, there's no letter, no explanation. a copy of feist's "the reminder" slips out into my lap. i remember the cover art from an online article. i sit in the car for a while, flipping the jewel case over, and over again, reading the tracklist. i fumble the ridiculous wrapper open. i leaf through the insert.

i don't cry very often. i try to cover over this failing by making jokes about having no soul, or simply lacking the ability, or saying its an activity reserved for mortals. i have emotional issues. whatever. i'll deal with it later.

the point is, i sat in the car for a good five minutes, just looking at the cd, feeling very full of a feeling... a warm and soft feeling, that spread out from my mouth, which was all curled in a smile, all down through me.

and i didn't cry. but my eyes were a little shinier than usual.

and its wonderful to have the feist album, and i'm sure i would eventually have bought it for myself (or so i like to think, anyway). but its even more wonderful to have a dad who can so eloquently tell me what it is he thinks i deserve, even if i'm not currently able to believe i deserve it. its wonderful to be reminded that somebody loves you, even when you don't.

and this entry has ended up having nothing to do with the title. and i could say a lot of stuff about how complex relationships are, considering my last entry dealing with my father. but i'd rather leave things just as they are right now. i'd rather end this entry while listening to feist, and remembering what it feels like to be loved.