Echo and the Bunnymen, oh my!

Oh, yea. (circa 1983) [Look for the guy in the totally rad shorts!]

The Very Best of Echo & the Bunnymen: More Songs to Learn and Sing


I just bought a $50 ticket from some dude to see Echo and the Bunnymen on Saturday at the Filmore. I can in no way afford this, my rent check will bounce if they cash it on time. They usually don't, but I don't care if they do. Right now, this matters more. This is most important.

I've been wishing Morrissey would go on tour again, knowing I need some relief. I'm aching for a break. I need to feel good for a few hours. But, the Bunnymen! Finally! I've never seen them, despite my 20 year love affair with the band. I've tried seeing them a few times, to no avail. It's all about the passion and poetry of Mac's vocals, the richness and layers of sound, the seething melancholy, oozing sexuality, and their utter timelessness, delivered by a huge catalog of awesome songs. It completely rings my bell.

So, On Wednesday, I got an email from one of my online groups announcing the concert as an event. The subject line pained me a little with desire. I ignored the email anyway, I figured the show was sold out as always, you can't get tickets in NYC. I didn't delete it though. And, today, I opened it just in case. The dude had a ticket to spare and he was selling! But. But, I could not afford it. Of course not. I would only have $30 after my rent was paid. Alas.

A little later, I got the unhappy email calling me an "administrative annoyance" (how long did it take him to come up with that pithy insult?), telling me to take a hike from my job of 7 years. It would have been nice if they had said something to me before it got this far... Anyway. It made me sob with shame. Then, I had to go teach 3 classes, pretending it was all okay. When I got home afterwards, still feeling miserable, I curled up on the couch for another cry. That's when I decided I had to do it, for me, for my tired heart. For that little piece of joy. I texted the ticket guy, did he still have it? . . . It was all mine.

I guess this means we're seeing the show together. I don't think anyone else is going. We've never met, but, whatever, it's not like I haven't done that before. If he's annoying, I'll get lost in the crowd. Had he given me the ticket for free I'd feel obliged to keep him company all night. Maybe I can charm him into 'forgetting' to charge me. He could've checked out my profile with my pic before aagreeing to sell it to me. Who knows, maybe he'll be alright. It doesn't matter.

I need, more than anything, to forget my life and lose myself in beautiful, incredible, live music. Music to make me blissfully happy, for a few moments. Music to fill me up, scour my body with thrumbing rhythms, and wrap my head in lush melodies seething with melancholy. Music so loud, so good it replaces all that is bad inside me. Refreshing my embattled soul. Yeah. And, I can drink in the ideal Brit-boy hotness that is Ian McCulloch. (Not like he used to be, time has tolled on his pretty face, but I would totally hit that. Well, if I did hit things, then I'd hit that.) This concert will release ALL my frustrations, physical and otherwise. It is exactly what I need. Perfect. An absolute god-send. The Lord is good to me. Hallelujah!


"Nocturnal Me" from the album "Ocean Rain", 1984ish.
Check out the Album: Ocean Rain


More E&B songs on YouTube:
All my Colours (Zimbo) ; Gods will be Gods ; Porcupine ;  Do It Clean ;  Bring on the Dancing Horses  All I Want;
The Very Best of Echo & the Bunnymen: More Songs to Learn and Sing

Demons Haunting

My completely unexpected termination letter (AKA letter of non-reappointment), that came in the mail from the Provost's Office, signed by the Provost, said that there were no classes for me because of the new hires and changing student patterns. (?)  I knew this had to be b.s. because I have seniority over most of the adjuncts.  My friend told me to ask what the deal was.  I didn't want to, but I thought maybe the chair didn't know about it, and maybe he could do something.

Last week I emailed him, asking if there were some other reason for it, such as my grades being late in the fall.  He didn't respond. Yesterday, I emailed again. Could he tell me whether I'll be considered for classes that open up or, no?  I got a reply today. I  wish I had left it alone.

The email was well-crafted.  It was a reply to my first email, not the second.  The letter had been intended to insult me, to express their disgust with me.  He included several paragraphs outlining my problems. He summed it up with the term, "administrative annoyance".  Basically, I caused headaches and wasted time because my grades were late last semester,"not for the first time", and because I didn't respond to some of their emails.   This demonstrated a clear indifference to the job.  I'm not really sure how they got 5 paragraphs out of that, but they did.

Indifferent? If they only knew. I gave blood, sweat and tears, literally, to that damn college.  But I wasted all my time on teaching, my mistake.  I'm so indifferent that I get observation reports saying, "this is the most successful class I have ever seen at this college."  One semester, I got a thank you card from an entire class in a required freshman course!  My indifference must be the reason why 1/3 of the students in my current 300-level class are kids who've taken me before.  This was the one thing in my life I could still care about without feeling pain or regret.  Until now.  Thank you department chair and co-chair! I suspect this was mostly the woman's doing, she probably composed the letter, it had the stink of angry woman all over it.   Though she didn't have the balls to sign it, pun intended.  I don't think most men presume to know you're emotional state, such as indifference, based on your actions.  That seems like a female thing to do.

This is so bad for my 'waste of space' complex, I've been trying to dig myself out of it for weeks.  This one email has pushed me all the way back down to the bottom.  It hurts my  stomach.  The Cocoa Puffs and left-over Peeps may not have helped with that either.

I honestly did not think the late grades mattered much, I had no idea it caused  problems. No one ever replies to those emails, or is that just me? I  guess it was just me.  Maybe they could've said something before now to clue me in?  They had 7 years to let me know.  No one has ever said one word to me about anything.  If they had said something, I would have tried harder to be better.  But, no matter how hard I try, I'm a terrible employee. I'm late for everything, I can't do administrative anything to save my life, I get lost in deadlines, and when my anxiety is on I can't talk to anyone, or email or deal, forget about details and directions, they're impossible.

I'm not making excuses, I'd never hire myself, and it's unacceptable, but this is the result of my problems, the ADD and the mood disorder combined.  Despite my best efforts, I keep failing. (Although, if my doc hadn't been so stingy with the ritalin, I could have done better.)

I wish this was just one firing, but it's not.  It's a lifetime of firings. I am unemployable. I've been fired from every job I've ever had.  I was really proud of this one because I lasted 7 years!  I am very good at teaching.  I'm trying not to let despair eat me alive.  I'm working my mind as hard as I can to keep self-hatred from ballooning out of control.

I don't know where to go from here, what to do. What's going to happen to me. Except for this weeked. . . .

The Future, BlogPoll Results!

First, I would like to assure my readers that they should fear no more bad poetry on this blog. It seemed like a good idea at 3 a.m. Besides, you know you have bad poetry hidden in the back of a drawer somewhere. Uh-huh, exactly.



Poll Results are coming in...

The tribe has spoken, we have an overwhelming winner of the Future of CitC blogpoll. Results below, including JL's interview with herself for her reactions to the votes.
And the winner is . . .

Keep the blog as is, write on sister! with 14 votes. --

I hear you. I do have a backlog of some of my best worst dates from back in my player days.It's going to be awhile until I get back to those. I would like to keep this a forum for singles to commiserate, vent and advocate for ourselves. I will not, however, be blogging the story of my last relationship, it meant too much to me. And the last thing I need is to think about him. But I will blog about how I'm getting over it, and maybe some issues raised by the relationship. Like: Is wanting no kids a dealbreaker? When do you bring up the celibacy thing? When should you make it exclusive? How long before a divorcee is dateable?

Runners up:
3 votes: Reformat CitC into a non-dating blog. --

CitC hasn't been much of a dating blog in the last few years anyway, or, much of a blog at all, for that matter, but, stick around and see what happens. I'll still be blogging about my madness. And my career. And being single in the church. And The adventures of living life on the edge of poverty with ADD. And the city. The problem with that now is, I've been here so long I don't notice New York as much. Also, I live across the Hudson, albeit less than a mile from Manhattan. But it makes a difference. (I want to go back! I miss you, NYC!)

1 vote: Never blog again! No one cares!--

Well, isn't someONE a sour-puss. No one is forcing you to read this blog. If you don't like it, click along elsewhere.

Thank you for participating, my 18 loyal readers! Thank you for returning for the resuscitation of CitC.

Once Goodbye

We are on the phone
You say those words
I think I hear them
Again! and again!
You say it. Goodbye.

From you reasons roll
Fall on my ears
Escape my hold
None will still
To explain them. Goodbye.

Tilting the room
Graying our world
Stealing my breath
These dozens confuse
Such nonsense. Goodbye.

Except for this
One soft whimper
Your voice stops to weep:
I am hurting
Loving you hurts me. Goodbye.

I hear you my love
How it breaks you
So I say those words
Returned this once
My last time. Goodbye.