If I Only Had The Words (to tell you)

The day started out grand with a silverfish pincer thingy in my bra... Luckily my eye caught the beast before I actually got the garment all the way on... DISGUSTING!!!

Work was mostly a mad dash of hurrying to wait moments. We're at the end of the film so there are a ton of transitions and they all come unexpectedly and at inconvenient moments. I lost almost all the support staff currently working with me to other projects today and it sounds like most of them will need to start on their new jobs tomorrow. I have to admit in a way I am grateful, or maybe just relieved, there is a lightness to only having to worry about yourself and answer your own questions and organize your own thoughts and goals and no one else's. I haven't been in that head space for a very long time and I am looking forward to a few solid months of living in my own head.

These severe shifts in the universe seem to be cyclical and happen in groupings. It always feels like everyone reaches a personal cusp at the same time (different cross roads for different people but lots of change all at once.) There are some people making bigger leaps outside our work pond and I think they will be very successful at being big fish in smaller ponds as opposed to abused or ignored fish in a small pond. More power to 'em I say, especially as I am in the middle of my own negotiations and not at all sure about the path that I want to take. This intense questioning of what do I actually want to do with the next 4-5 years of my life has led to frequent panic attacks over the last few weeks. Small ones, moments of feeling like I'm breathing under water or caught in a web and can't get out, that kind of thing.

This general mixture of life-purpose confusing and emotional lightening flashes may explain how my night ended, crying seemingly uncontrollably in front of the Piano Man himself.

For Mike's 30th birthday I took him to see Billy Joel tonight at the Staples Center. We are pretty avid concert goers and very eclectic music listeners. We have been to the Staple Center many times for everything from REM and U2 to the band that scored the horrendous film Titan A.E. In the last few years we've been to Stevie Nicks, Pete Yorn, Ryan Adams, Ben Folds, William Shatner and more. I enjoyed every one of these concerts and was definitely blown away by the energy of some of them. I've never been a star struck person, my job requires me to stay fairly cool no matter who I meet or work with and I don't tend to participate in idol worship or make claims that I must meet so-and-so before I die or my life won't be complete. While I would consider it a privilege to meet Bono or Michael Stipe and would really enjoy talking to them about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness I don't think I would stop breathing if they actually talked back to me. I'm sure I would keep my cool.

Evidently something in my subconscious doesn't feel the same way about Billy Joel. The lights went down and before he even made it on stage I felt a sob well up. Not just a tear, a sob. I tried to hold it back and my eyes started leaking like a drain pipe made out of a sieve. My first thought was, wow I didn't know I felt so strongly about being here tonight, this is pretty cool. And then the tears kept coming... Almost every song, some worse than others, caused some deep emotional reaction in me that I could not contain. I have never in my life reacted to a concert or event like this. I have seen other people swoon and cry and always thought it quite cheap and cheesy and fake. Well sign me up for some Gouda cause I guess I'm one of them now.

The show was very much his normal stage show. I've never been to B.J. concert before but it seemed very much by the numbers and even the patter between songs was the same as quoted in articles from other concerts. But none of that took away from how deeply (and again, unexpectedly) special the connection was I had with the music and the man. I think the combination of the memory's of these songs dating back longer than almost any other music (other than the Beatles) and the personal connection I must of formed with the man singing those songs when I was young (maybe a father figure thing...) caused my reaction.

With the way I have been feeling lately, a little lost in life, the chords (excuse the pun) that Billy Joel hit were also reminiscent of feeling safe in childhood listening to my Innocent Man tape over and over on my little purple boombox.

The release of crying while singing along with 1000's of other people felt better than any tear jerker film I've ever been to and was probably very cathartic. In fact I feel stronger now and slightly more resolute in making a stand for what I want at work and in life and as Billy says at the end of every concert "Don't take any shit from anybody!"

Thanks Billy, for the songs and the melodic cocoon you gave me as a kid. Thanks for creating memories that last through 20 years and the loss of many brain cells. Thanks for the tears and for tonight. I know Mike was just as touched as I was, but I'm glad we could both enjoy his present so completely.