Cheesy Song-o-Rama

And even though we ain’t got money
I’m so in love with ya, honey
And everything will bring a chain of love
And in the mornin’ when I rise
You bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me, everything is gonna be alright

Remember that song?  Kenny Loggins?  Danny’s Song?  This may be the most fun song to sing along with EVER.  Try it … I’m telling you.  “Pisces, Virgo rising is a very good sign … strong and kind, and the little boy is mine.”  O.K., listening to it again.  This reminds me of going to summer camp.  I only went to summer camp once but I know we def played this song at night during campfire.  I’m not really the “summer camp” type.  All those bugs.  I recall getting up an hour early so I could plug my curling iron in and apply waterproof mascara.  There were some cute boys and I wanted a leg up on the other girls.  Which worked … as I recall, I briefly dated a hot football player guy from a rival high school.  The lesson … always be prepared.  I’m just sayin’. 

I’m all hippied out now.  Listening to “It’s a Sin” by Pet Shop Boys.  This song has special meaning for me and I always laugh when I hear it.  When I was a sophomore in college, I remember dancing with some dude to this song at a party.  He was trying to be all sexy and leaned over and whispered in my ear “you’re a sin.”  I started laughing so hard that I had to sit down.  On the dance floor.  It was one of the funniest moments ever.  I recall telling my friend Marcy and her asking “which sin?  Pride?  Envy?”  I’m hoping it was lust.  To this day, she still refers to me as “sin girl.”  I have no idea of what happened to that guy.  Later on in the evening, he went to get me a drink and his friend started dancing with me.  When first guy came back, a fist fight broke out between the two friends.  As I recall, we weren’t grinding or booty dancing or anything like that.  I think sin guy just took offense easily.  I decided to go home.  Boring.  No  one was paying attention to me at all. 

Make Me Lose Control

I freaking love Itunes.  Have I said that already?  O.K. … remember this song?  Same guy (Eric Carmen) who did “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing?  “Turn the radio up for that sweet sound … hold me close, never let me go … keep this feelin’ alive, make me lose control.”  I don’t think I’ve heard this song in 20 years.  Itunes recommended it for me.  (A) it’s a bit frightening that Itunes recommended the cheesiest song of all time for me and (B)  how did Itunes know I fucking LOVE this song?  Itunes is so Big Brother.  Yet, I love the mind control. 

In a shocking turn of events, I’m completely exhausted and cannot go to sleep.  Even though booze is the LAST thing I want right now, there’s a bottle of my favorite Malbec staring at me … surely it’s o.k. to drink if it’s strictly for medicinal purposes, right?  Perhaps I would find it easier to fall asleep if I didn’t blast 80s tunes at 11 p.m. and then try to pretend I’m an extra in “Dirty Dancing.”  Sort of want to watch that movie now.  Remember that scene where Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze are having a “dance lesson” to that “come here, lover boy” song?  That’s a hot scene.  Right up there.  No “Big Easy” but way hot. 

Do I really want to download “Every Little Thing” by Bobby Brown or is this a bad late-night decision?  99 cents … I’m doing it.  No one is going to stop me now.  “And as a matter of fact, it blows my mind, that we would even fall in love”. 

Oh … I forgot.  I’m celebrating.  I have a new client for the draft, as of tonight.  Junior at UCLA.  Oddly, I only talked to him twice on the phone, never met him and he’s totally committed.  Weird process.  Like there was one guy I talked to a million times, met him and his parents in Alabama, sent them a holiday card, etc., etc. and I didn’t get the business.  This guy, I didn’t try at all.  Just likes the sound of my voice or something.  No rhyme or reason to this business.  Totally subjective why one person chooses you and another doesn’t.  I have a weird job.  Then again, I’m a little “weird” myself.  Not so normal.  Difficult job to maintain a relationship.  90% of my bfs have not understood my job/have been super jealous.  I think you have to have a good sense of self and lots of confidence to let your gf hang out with pro athletes 24/7.  The funny thing is that NOTHING ever happens in that situation (disregarding my last post, of course).  In order for me to really be into someone, I have to feel like he’s my equal.  As you may have determined from this blog, I have a rather strong personality.  With my boys, I’m more like a mentor/guru/big sister than an “equal.”  With B., there is chemistry and an attraction but I think it’s more physical than anything.  I need to like weld 4 people together to create my perfect guy.  An athlete who is also a Rhodes scholar, funny, musical and has sex appeal.  I take any and all suggestions/recommendations.

Fate, Destiny and All That Jazz

So I returned home berating myself for getting my person in such a state of disrepair.  My phone rings … a strange phone number.  I don’t answer because I know that if I hear the cheery voice of a telemarketer, I will surely lose my shit.  Listen to voicemail and …. it’s one of my favorite people of all time.  Ever.  I know that I tend to use a lot of hyperbole and say that lots of people are my “favorite” but in this case, I really mean it.  Like my favorite favorite. 

Brandon was one of my first clients when I started out in baseball.  My father actually found him and signed him and I came on board shortly thereafter.  I adore him.  To this day, he’s my absolute favorite of all of my clients.  Unfortunately, Brandon never became a star, although not due to any lack of faith on my part.  Obviously, lots of my clients are good-looking.  I represent young athletes.  They’re all cute boys.  Usually, though, I can totally compartmentalize and not see clients “in that way.”  Usually, to me, they’re like little brothers.  Actually, at this point, I think I’m old enough to be a mother to them.  Ugh.  Must not think depressing thoughts like that …

Anyway, Brandon is only 5 years younger.  A lot of my job as an agent consists of just being a good friend to my clients.  There’s lots of late-night phone calls from the road from bored clients looking for conversation, consoling, laughter, etc.  B and I used to have marathon conversations at least 3-4x/week.  About everything and anything.  In addition to becoming great friends, Brandon also happens to be the personification of my ideal.  If I asked God to create a perfect example of my “type”, it would be him.  “6′3″, 230, dark brown hair, green eyes … hot.  Like movie star hot.  And, in a shocking turn of events, his “type” turns out to be small, outgoing blondes.  Somehow, I managed to keep our relationship at a “professional” level for 3 years.  How … I have no idea.  It was not easy.  Besides being my client, though, neither of us was ever single at the same time.  Which made things a little easier.  (Although, I do recall one conversation about my boyfriend at the time in which something to the effect of “if I really wanted you, I wouldn’t let your boyfriend stand in my way” was stated.  Which was very arrogant.  And sort of hot.  O.K., really hot.  I like a confident guy.)  Like I said, though, I was able to maintain some remnant of ethical behavior and not cross the line. 

Ever since B was released (a day on which I cried), I have had no idea of what happened to him.  This is not that weird.  After you’re told that the dream that you’ve been working towards since you were a kid and built your whole existence upon is no longer attainable, you tend to withdraw a bit.  After 6 mos or so, I usually hear from my clients and we stay in touch.  Some of them even work for me now which is way cool.  Anyway, for the last 4 years, I’ve had no idea of where Brandon was, what he was doing, etc.  Like he just disappeared.  Today, out of the blue, he calls.  Called my dad and asked him for my cell number.  He is now working as a scout in Northern California (where he’s from) and just happened to be in town checking up on this prospect before the draft. 

Great conversation … like not a day had gone by since we last talked.  So great to hear from him.  He’s leaving on Wed. morning and we’re having dinner tomorrow night.  I would LOVE it if Brandon would come and work for me.  Amazing personality, confident, good-looking …  he’d make a great agent.  Of course … there is that darned chemistry thing still present, so I’m a little conflicted.  And he’s single.  And I’m single.  There was some light flirting on the phone although I was trying to control myself.  Do I want him more as a work colleague or should I finally just say “what the hell” and go for it?  He’s a dangerous one … perhaps I won’t be attracted to him tomorrow night?  Yeah … right.  I’m sure that will happen.  Temptation is a scary scary thing … I’m def looking forward to seeing him, though.  Like I said, at the very least I just adore him as a person.  So rad.  I’m psyched. 

Perfect Song for My Mood

I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black

That would be “Paint It, Black” by Monsieurs Jagger and Richards.  If you didn’t get that immediately, I hate you. 

Pit of Despair

That’s where I am located at current.  I know that just a little while ago, I was all mellow and happy.  I believe now that I may still have been drunk and am having a delayed hangover.  I am deep in the pit of despair right now.  Just staring at my computer in a totally hostile way.  Feel like I may either burst into tears or throw objects at the wall at any moment.  Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr … my own fault for overindulging.  How come I always forget this part of the equation????  I soooo need a handler.  On the plus side, listening to new Madonna.  Pretty good.  Very heavy on the Timbaland.  We love him.  So rad.  Is it possible to choke oneself?  I’m seriously contemplating right now.  Why oh why do I always have to pay for my bad behavior???????  Soooooo not fair.  What about having my cake and eating it, too???  Btw, I’ve never understood that expression.  WTF else are you going to do with a cake????  “I want to have my cake and then use it as a paperweight.”  Makes no fucking sense.  I hate that expression.  I hate all expressions.  I hate all people who use such expressions.  Hatehatehatehatehate.  I especially hate alcohol.  Never. drinking. again.  Ever.  Bitter McBitterson.  Totally detoxing this week.  Yes yes yes … I know, you’ve heard that before.  I really mean it.  I’m serious.  I’m totally on the wagon.