If only life had an operators manual......

If only life had an operators manual......

I've been staring strenuously at my computer keyboard for approximately 20 minutes. The markings of both sadness and creative frustration carved into my forehead like an uncoordinated map line. Words have escaped my mind. 'Escaped?'. This expression suddenly strikes me as funny. I envision 'words' crawling, face down through the tunnel of my ear drum, dressed in orange jumpsuits and clutching onto lassos. 'Porcelain' and 'Chestnut' bolt to Vancouver in search of Margaret Atwood, 'nothing, ' 'to,' and 'say' are apprehended and placed back into my custody. Ah, my brain; the Alcatraz for expressionless vocabulary.

I'm stalling.

Yes. If only life had an operating manual. A simply written, user-friendly handbook. Today I would turn to the page that explains how to work peacefully and amicably with my partner slash 'partner' (*refer back to page 1 '10 Simple Rules of Life'. Rule #8 'NICK-AY-ON BUSINESS ROMANCE-AY'). I kid. God love my sweet-heart, he's truly the best and I regret nothing. BUT it is extremely challenging at times ('times' being this evening at 1 am) to find the balance between work relationship and intimate relationship. The business of music is constant; one long infinite day that ingests every thought, every decision, every movement, every hour, every second. Under normal circumstances, an intimate relationship is a pleasant, necessary distraction from this absurdity, however, in my case, (in 'our' case), the artistic neurosis is shared. Sharing not SIMILAR goals and ambitions, but rather EXACTLY the SAME goals and ambitions. No sturdy, grounded hand to slap us in our mad faces or take us out to dinner, talk of the weather, talk of ANYTHING but music. No temporary releases or distractions from the stresses of a shared career. So yes, sometimes it gets a little hot in the kitchen and 'Head Chef #1' and 'Head Chef #2' (I'll let you decide which is which) have a 'bit of a go' at each other. Surprisingly, not as often as one might presume, but it does happen and so, it is at these moments that I need that GOD DAMNED MANUAL!!! Because, to be completely honest, rather then sitting here with you writing my 'Dear Diary,' I'd REALLY like to be snuggled beside my sweetie half-way to sleepy town. BUT instead (because neither of us possess the life skills or maturity to be rational) I have to wait 8-12 hours for time to resolve the issue; spend the night 'proudly' sulking with my torso edging the furthest side of the bed HOPING he might sleepily drape his arm over me in the middle of the night so I can 'accept' this gesture as an apology so I can then move back into my usual, nightly, 'little spoon' position. HA! Sound familiar anyone?

Anyway, it is getting to be that hour and I should really brush my teeth and just get on with my sulking. Nothing really said or accomplished this blog around, though I feel A LOT clearer then I did when I initially sat down (2 hours ago!). Let me conclude by saying that I am happy. My life is not perfect but 'perfect' is not life. I accept the ebbs and the flows as motions necessary in bringing balance and intrigue to my life. As for you, my lovely, you are a horses ass (that expression looks much funnier in print then it sounded in my head) but I love you, as usual.