Sing it sister

I got the blues. The Sunday night blues. You know the ones. They come pretty much every Sunday night when you're sitting at home thinking of the coming week. And sure, while you're excited for what the new week brings you also think to yourself, "Seriously-it's already Sunday night?! Where did the weekend go?" I'll tell you where it went. Away. Just like it does every time. It seems like the time between Friday evening and Sunday evening goes faster than any other two days known to man. And when the evening hits, it drags on. And on. And on. Maybe it's because I'm sitting here alone, typing away on my computer, the only sound the humming of my space heater. Sure I know it's June and maybe the heater doesn't need to be on, but it's also Sunday night. And every Sunday night my heater comes on and provides a harmony to my thoughts and the clicking of the keyboard. Anyway, I better hit it before the Sunday night blues turn into the way too early Monday morning mayhem. Goodnight heater. And hugs and kisses to the rest of you.

Get Out of My Dreams...

...and into my car. No seriously, get into my car. Fine, I guess you can't. Probably because you're not here. You're off doing your job somewhere. But I do have a sneaky suspicion that if you were here you would indeed get into my car. And I would happily welcome it.

Probably because I keep thinking about you. Sad I know, but I have a hard time pushing you completely out of my mind. You see, when it comes down to it, I don't want to push you all the way out. I want part of you to stay. Mainly the part of you that makes me laugh. And the part of you that danced with me for hours. And your sparkling blue eyes—they can stay too. I really liked those. And while we're at it, let's keep the sweet part of you too. The part that walks me to my car, likes chick flicks and makes me feel beautiful.

So until we meet again, I think I'll just keep those parts of you right here with me where they are perfect and safe. But rest assured that when I do see you, I will indeed make you get into my car.

Homeless Bum

So as many of you know I live in beautiful Missoula, Montana. It's a pretty fantastic place to live as it has a nice mix of families, vibrant college students, professionals, writers and on and on and on. However, is also has a plethora of bums (aka homeless people/transients.) I have the opportunity to interact with these travelers on a daily basis. First of all because I live downtown, conveniently enough right across the street from "The Pov" (a temporary residence for the homeless) and I'm only a block away from the railroad tracks, their main mode of transportation into our fine city. Not don't get me wrong, I have no problem with the homeless-to each their own.

However, right now I am sitting at The Break, a popular coffee spot where I like to come and do some writing after I am no longer able to concentrate elsewhere. And on this fine Thursday afternoon, many other Missoulians decided to come and spend some time at The Break as well. So lucky me, there are no other tables available except for the one with the homeless man sleeping at it. Apparently my new friend is very tired. He keeps dozing off and then jerking himself awake as his elbow falls off the table. While it is a little rude of me that I sat down at a table with him without asking, he is asleep so I figured he wouldn't mind.

Uh-oh, he just woke up. Lucky, he seemed to not notice that I was sitting here. Instead he stood up, pulled up his sagging sweatpants and just wandered away from our shared table. With any luck, he'll be back to join me. If not, I'll try to find another soul to join me at this table.

Four minutes later...He's back. He filled up his coffee cup and rejoined me. We still aren't speaking...apparently we both like playing hard to get.

My Yellow High Heels

Oh hey. So I played my first "show" last weekend here in Missoula. I was able to play about a two hour set out at Lake Missoula Cellars and had a fabulous time doing it. Lots of my office "crew" came and listened, drank wine and (hopefully) enjoyed everything. Have I told you all how much I enjoy performing? I really do! Although I think I come by it naturally and apparently have felt a need to be the center of attention from a young age (just ask my mom, she'll show you the home videos.) When I get up on stage, I don't feel nervous. I'm not sure if I am naturally comfortable it or if I just think I'm sooo funny that I have no worries. Whatever it is—it seems to be working. Anyway, looking forward to playing more tunes.

*ps: I wore real cute sassy yellow high heels. I think they did the trick!

Get on the boat

Do you ever do something and then want to kick yourself for it? Then you think "Okay the next time that happens I'm not going to do that." And then you have another opportunity and do the wrong thing again...In the end you think "Well that's just great. Way to screw that one up too."

Sometimes I do. :) Mainly when it comes to boys. (I know what you're thinking. "Of course--I know Tia and she does have a knack for ruining relationships.") Anyway, I have a situation in my life that I have managed to mess up a couple of times. And just to clarify, I know that at least one of the times it wasn't all me. But I should probably take blame for the other ruined times. Anyway, this is a person I could love. Probably really and truly. But when it comes to spending time with him, I get all nervous about having "date" time. When it's just "friend" time I honestly can't get enough of it.

I think my mind may have an allergic reaction to the word "date" and triggers me acting like I'm either not interested, a little awkward or at times, even a little bratty. But not all the time. Just with guys that I know I could have real potential with and maybe fall for. Well that last time I was in this situation with my friend (a while ago and no, I will not provide dates or names) I did it again. I got all psyched out. We spent the whole day together and then he came over and visited at my house for a little bit. Then it was time for him to leave and I said goodbye. And I was sad to see him go. Of course, I didn't tell him that. Mainly because that would have been a good thing to say to a boy I like. But to go along with my track record of ruining things, I couldn't tell him.

Next thing I knew he had a girlfriend. And once again, I had missed the boat. In fact, I was still standing on the shore trying to get my life jacket on--that's how much I missed it by.

But never fear. He recently got back off the boat. I don't know why and I don't know how long he will be back on shore. But I'm hoping that this time, I'll be ready to go when he leaves the dock.

Text Message Misery

I woke up this morning to a text message. I thought it was probably going to be from one of my girlfriends or my brother or something, but to my surprise, it was from my ex-boyfriend. And it said three little words. I miss you. Normally, those three little words give you a warm feeling.

But for me on this morning, those three little “I miss you” words didn’t do that. Instead they gave me the lovely “what the crap” feeling. You see, bomb squad and I broke up about 11 months ago and sure, while I missed him in the beginning, I now feel good about it and learned some good lessons from that relationship. And while it’s not out of the ordinary for us to talk from time to time, I was still not expecting the “I miss you” verbiage this morning.

So I did what any normal person would do. I called him. (In case you haven’t figured it out—I’m real bad at letting things go.) After a few minutes of chitchat, I asked him if he wanted to explain himself. He asked what I meant. And I reminded him of the late-night text message. Apparently he was having a case of the feel-bad blues that came in the form of missing me. And while I don’t blame him for missing me (☺), it’s one of those things that is hard to hear and good to hear at the same time. I think everyone wants to be missed and loved, but at the same time, it’s difficult to hear that kind of crap, especially from someone who you care about, but that you would never go back to.

But, it’s not a total loss. Those three little words from him serve as hope to me that someday, I will find my very own man to love and miss when I'm away from. And even though I know bomb squad is not my guy, I still know my own special Mr. Tia is out there somewhere. And I can't wait to find him.

Black Eyes: The Encore

So guess what. I saw black eyes again. No, not on a date—I'm not that desperate! Here's how it went down: A couple of weeks ago I had two journalists in town for work. When we have people in town we typically take them to a popular restaurant on the banks of the Clark Fork River. So anyway, I knew black eyes worked there, but there wasn't anything I could really do about it. I went ahead and made the reservations and didn't give it much thought after that. Then, the day we were going to have dinner I thought to myself, "Maybe I should call and request to not sit in black eyes section." That thought was shortly followed by, "No, what are the chances of him working tonight and having him be our waiter." Well, apparently the chances were incredibly high because at 5:20 PM (my reservations weren't until 6 PM) I got a text from black eyes that said "Your table is ready." Talk about Creepy McCreeperson.

Anyway, we go to the restaurant and are seated and of course black eyes walks over and is socially awkward and wanting to visit. And since I had people with me, I was polite and nice, but really not overly friendly. So after making it through an otherwise pleasant meal (minus his loitering and lingering looks) we left. A few days later, I got a call from black eyes—which I again did not answer—letting me know he was free tonight if I wanted to "come over." Ew. No black eyes, I don't want to come over. Below is what I really want to say...

"Dear black eyes,

First of all, if I liked you, I would call you back. I would not ignore your phone calls for several weeks. Second, I would not have a look of dismay in my eyes when I see you at your place of employment. And finally, I would not shoo you away as soon as possible from my table. I'm sure you are a nice person and although I commend your persistence, I've had just about all of your creepiness I can handle. Please go find someone else to harass and kindly leave me alone.

Many thanks and all the best in your future ventures."

Hopefully he'll get it sooner than later. This little missy is tired of being creeped on.

*If any of you are into creepers, please let me know and I will happily pass along black eyes contact information to you. Hugs and kisses. Tia

Stupid Love Songs

Right now, I'm sitting in my darkened apartment listening to love songs. Probably not the best thing for a single 25-year-old to be doing on a Sunday evening, but it's what I'm doing, so I guess I'll just have to deal with it. Now listen though, I enjoy love songs, especially the simple ones with beautiful melodies and light instrumental accompaniment.

But on this cool March evening, they are making me sad. Which I know could be solved by shutting them off. But I can't. Not tonight.

Every once in a while I get in one of those moods when I get a little bit sad and feel like I may cry. Tonight I'm having one of them. While I have not cried, I am feeling a little down. Here's why: I'm tired (but who isn't). I'm getting sick (and I'm not a good sick person. In fact, I'm a huge baby when I don't feel good.) And my friend just left. (He was here for a few days visiting/skiing, although the main purpose of his trip was to ski the beautiful Rocky Mountain snow of Montana, I was able to spend the last few days with him, which I thoroughly enjoyed. He even put up with my very mediocre snowboarding, full of lots of crashes and me wiping out the cones a few times when exiting the lift.) You know when you are with someone for a few days and you have fun and enjoy being around them and then it comes time for them to leave and you get a little sad?

Those are what I like to call the friend-missing blues. And right now I'm singing them. But I don't think it's just that I miss him, but having him here and having him leave is a reminder of some of my other good friends I miss.

My best friend is 1,500 miles away (or 22 driving hours - I just mapquested it), my big sister lives on the east coast, and two of my best cousinfriends live a couple hours away, which in my opinion, is too far. And to top it all off, the man of my dreams is off playing around somewhere and keeping me waiting yet another day. (Which by the way mister, I have had just about enough of.)

But I guess it's weekends like the one I just had that help me realize the people I love and value in my life. I'm seriously blessed when it comes to friends and family. I have a handful of true, solid friends that I love. And even though I don't get to see them as often as I would like, it's all good.

Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest, I think I'll go to bed. And if I'm lucky, maybe I'll dream about a love song that doesn't piss me off.

XOXO Tia

Happy Valentine's Day

On this day of love, it seems appropriate to wish you each a Happy Valentine’s Day. So here goes, "Happy Friggin Valentine's Day." There you go-hope that made your day.

Anyway, since it is the day of St. Valentine and whatever the crap his deal was, let’s talk about love. To be honest, I love love. I really do. And I think love is everywhere. But because it’s Valentine’s Day, I can’t talk about regular love, I have to talk about being “in” love. And I’m going to be honest about my feeling on this. I love the idea of being in love. Have I found it? No. Have I dabbled in it? Not so much. Has it slapped me across the face? I wish.

But I think it's important to note that even though my time of being “in love” is not quite here, I believe in it. In fact, I am certain it is out there. (Between you and I, I’ve already picked out the guy-I just haven’t found the best way to let him know he gets to love me forever yet.) And while I may not be exactly ready when he decides to love me too, I’m excited for it.

The idea of finding someone to spend my life with and laugh with and cuddle with and have babies with is awesome. It’s probably one of the best ideas ever. And while other people have found it and are having their cuddles and their babies and whatnot, I’m still here. Living the single life, playing around and going on dates with guys who have two black eyes. But in the end, it’s all worth it. I will have paid my dues, kissed my frogs and end up with my very own version of Prince Charming. I just wish he’s hop a plane out here already.

My Open Mic Night

So, as many of you sweeties know, I like to sing. And play guitar. And write girly love songs. In order to express and utilize these likes, sometimes I play open mic night at the always charming Sean Kelly's in Missoula. I hadn't gone for a few weeks and had some new songs I wanted to try out, ie perform, so I signed up and went last night. I did my little set and was sitting down listening to some fellow musicians perform. The first guy that got up after me was a musician I like to call "Mafia Man." And while I only bring one guitar with me to open mic, he brought two. That's right...TWO. And about four harmonicas. Now I don't know how one person can play two guitars and four harmonicas in the space of 20 minutes, but MM sure did. And he was good. There was a tad bit of a creeper in him, but I attribute that to the witness protection program he is currently a part of. But because he said he would record some of my songs, I'm going to let it slide. But I'm not that stupid—I plan on taking my own "people" with me when I do record some songs, just to be on the safe side.

After Mafia Man was done playing, up came two of the whitest jokers I've ever seen. To clearly solidify just how white they were, they both had red hair and I think it's safe to say their skin was even clearer than mine. If that's not creepy, I don't know what is. So these two white munchkins get on the stage (For visual effects please picture one wearing a camo hat with "IDAHO" written across the front in orange letters and matching orange-soled sneakers. Oh ya and picture them both in sunglasses that are cool when you are 12. Got it? Okay we can move on...) and are messing with their guitars. Pretty soon they start playing and the lead singer (AKA skinny arms man) opens his mouth and out comes this gravely, reggae type voice singing some sweet little tune. The next thing I know they switch from reggae inspired to bluegrass. It was during those moments that I developed a mini-crush on skinny arms man. To avoid falling deeper into crush-mode with SAM, I left.

And though I may never talk Skinny Arms Man or Orange Idaho Lover again, I'm sure I'll see them again. Even if it's only in my dreams.