blurring_the_edges_21_valentines_and_zephyrs birdmad Even though she's been back in town since a couple of days after the holidays, Elena hasn't returned any of your phonecalls except to play phone-tag. After much futility, you land a position through a temp agency as a shipping clerk and assembly-line worker for a small, low-tech outfit down around south Central. The pay is kind of crappy, but it keeps your funding levels on an even keel. Elena finally seems to be warming up to you a little more lately, at least by the tone in the messages she leaves on your machine which make your mom roll her eyes and chuckle about it when she checks the messages. On one of the occasions where she did get to discussing what her relationship with Orlando had been like, she said that he had the tendency to be very unromantic, which she found kind of off-putting. "It's like he wasn't really willing to put any effort into anything about our relationship," you remember her saying, with a slight hint of irritation, "and then he expected me to accept a proposal and move with him all the way across the country to Georgetown while he finishes grad school? What, is he crazy?" You remember her going on, getting more animated in her irritation over the subject, going on about how she felt that if anything, he took her for granted and made her feel more like an accessory than a girlfriend. "He wouldn't have had to spend a lot of money on me to impress me, but at least he could have made some effort to make me feel like something special, you know?" In the filing cabinet of your head, you replay these little snippets from memory and set about on a plan to show her above and beyond all of your other efforts that you are perfectly willing to expend effort and spend money to make a good impression on her. After all, it was the same motivation that got you to go to the lengths you did for the night at the Fair. Of course, with Valentine's Day coming, you see this as being your big chance to say what you've been meaning to say. Going with the theme you know works best, you pay up front for as much of the the VIP treatment as you can get from the staff at Palazzo, covering a patio table with a sunset view as well as the cost of two of the most expensive meals and desserts on the menu and also the best available wine on their list. To put the icing on the cake, you advance tip the Maitre'D, the head waiter and the chef with a pair of $50's each. To make sure that the evening is really something special, you take a couple of quick beat-em-up jobs and a couple of bag jobs for Henry and Greg. WIth that money, you persuade the florist in the underground level of the Valley Bank tower to make an after-hours delivery and with a very large, very fat sack of incredibly dank weed as payment, you get Jimmy K to play chauffeur in the car he loves more than some parents love their children, the big black 1938 Cadillac custom limousine he spent a small fortune restoring. No more stalling, no more choking on the words, you are going to tell her you love her and you are going to do it like you never thought you could. Your bargain with Claire and Platte is still heavy on your mind, but they have not been insistent or set a timeframe when they want you to play along. You've made the effort to negotiate some other sort of payment, feeling guilty enough for having slept with Zoe the night she kicked. To no avail, Claire is insistent and when you talk to Platte, you can practically -Hear- him leering over the telephone about the idea. Bryan, feelng conciliatory and wanting to make amends for the incident that strained your friendship (and wanting a little revenge on his father for trying everything to shaft his mom in their divorce) gives you a copy of the key and the security codes to his dads new house on the mountainside up in the Squaw Peak/Paradise Valley part of town. All of your plans are in place, you go out a couple of times before Valentine's and things are clicking beautifully between the two of you. Then the weather changes suddenly. The skies go from cool and clear to being grey and stormy. A great swirling and rolling sea of clouds that threatens to rain but delivers nothing but a cold hard wind that breaks young trees and a few powerlines all over town. You sit hoping that it clears up before the big night, but when afternoon comes, it is still gusting and the clouds trail tendrils of mist like jellyfish tentacles into the downtown skyline. Calling up the restaurant, you just barely manage to get your reservation changed to a window table inside the Palazzo. You follow up with a call to the florist telling him to deliver the roses inside now instead of outside. So far, you have managed to work around this little curveball nature seems to have thrown your way. Isn't it amazing how much sharper you are when you don't have all that lovely poppy juice tapdancing all over your bloodstream? Oh, but wait a minute, Alex, because you should already be aware that just when you think you've got all the bases covered, the hits just keep on coming. Elena calls and without giving you anything that sounds like an explanation, says she won't be able to make it out tonight. Just as you are about to ask why, she cuts in and says "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Bye." "But..." Click. You feel like the floor has disappeared from under you and your heart is in your shoes and sinking deeper still. Think about it for a second right about now Alex, You are Charlie Brown, Elena is Lucy, your heart is the football, do the math, fucknut. 030424 ... birdmad Even though she's been back in town since a couple of days after the holidays, Elena hasn't returned any of your phonecalls except to play phone-tag. After much futility, you land a position through a temp agency as a shipping clerk and assembly-line worker for a small, low-tech outfit down around south Central. The pay is kind of crappy, but it keeps your funding levels on an even keel. Elena finally seems to be warming up to you a little more lately, at least by the tone in the messages she leaves on your machine which make your mom roll her eyes and chuckle about it when she checks the messages. On one of the occasions where she did get to discussing what her relationship with Orlando had been like, she said that he had the tendency to be very unromantic, which she found kind of off-putting. "It's like he wasn't really willing to put any effort into anything about our relationship," you remember her saying, with a slight hint of irritation, "and then he expected me to accept a proposal and move with him all the way across the country to Georgetown while he finishes grad school? What, is he crazy?" You remember her going on, getting more animated in her irritation over the subject, going on about how she felt that if anything, he took her for granted and made her feel more like an accessory than a girlfriend. "He wouldn't have had to spend a lot of money on me to impress me, but at least he could have made some effort to make me feel like something special, you know?" In the filing cabinet of your head, you replay these little snippets from memory and set about on a plan to show her above and beyond all of your other efforts that you are perfectly willing to expend effort and spend money to make a good impression on her. After all, it was the same motivation that got you to go to the lengths you did for the night at the Fair. Of course, with Valentine's Day coming, you see this as being your big chance to say what you've been meaning to say. Going with the theme you know works best, you pay up front for as much of the the VIP treatment as you can get from the staff at Palazzo, covering a patio table with a sunset view as well as the cost of two of the most expensive meals and desserts on the menu and also the best available wine on their list. To put the icing on the cake, you advance tip the Maitre'D, the head waiter and the chef with a pair of $50's each. To make sure that the evening is really something special, you take a couple of quick beat-em-up jobs and a couple of bag jobs for Henry and Greg. WIth that money, you persuade the florist in the underground level of the Valley Bank tower to make an after-hours delivery and with a very large, very fat sack of incredibly dank weed as payment, you get Jimmy K to play chauffeur in the car he loves more than some parents love their children, the big black 1938 Cadillac custom limousine he spent a small fortune restoring. No more stalling, no more choking on the words, you are going to tell her you love her and you are going to do it like you never thought you could. Your bargain with Claire and Platte is still heavy on your mind, but they have not been insistent or set a timeframe when they want you to play along. You've made the effort to negotiate some other sort of payment, feeling guilty enough for having slept with Zoe the night she kicked. To no avail, Claire is insistent and when you talk to Platte, you can practically -Hear- him leering over the telephone about the idea. Bryan, feelng conciliatory and wanting to make amends for the incident that strained your friendship (and wanting a little revenge on his father for trying everything to shaft his mom in their divorce) gives you a copy of the key and the security codes to his dads new house on the mountainside up in the Squaw Peak/Paradise Valley part of town. All of your plans are in place, you go out a couple of times before Valentine's and things are clicking beautifully between the two of you. Then the weather changes suddenly. The skies go from cool and clear to being grey and stormy. A great swirling and rolling sea of clouds that threatens to rain but delivers nothing but a cold hard wind that breaks young trees and a few powerlines all over town. You sit hoping that it clears up before the big night, but when afternoon comes, it is still gusting and the clouds trail tendrils of mist like jellyfish tentacles into the downtown skyline. Calling up the restaurant, you just barely manage to get your reservation changed to a window table inside the Palazzo. You follow up with a call to the florist telling him to deliver the roses inside now instead of outside. So far, you have managed to work around this little curveball nature seems to have thrown your way. Isn't it amazing how much sharper you are when you don't have all that lovely poppy juice tapdancing all over your bloodstream? Oh, but wait a minute, Alex, because you should already be aware that just when you think you've got all the bases covered, the hits just keep on coming. Elena calls and without giving you anything that sounds like an explanation, says she won't be able to make it out tonight. Just as you are about to ask why, she cuts in and says "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Bye." "But..." Click. You feel like the floor has disappeared from under you and your heart is in your shoes and sinking deeper still. Think about it for a second right about now Alex, You are Charlie Brown, Elena is Lucy, your heart is the football, do the math, fucknut. 030424 ... birdmad oi, double-posted 030424 what's it to you? who go blather from