Present Imperfect

He's a Cancer, You Know | November 02, 2003

Aw man...I thought I was having a "cusp of greatness" moment just now, but I think it turned out to be a "cusp of drunkness" moment instead. Luckily (?), I've recovered.

At least, I guess I must have, because I can't remember why I even logged in to blog this evening. Um, I'm reading Silas Marner. I'd like to have a new car. My asthma has been acting up. I colored my hair.

I'm thinking about my ex-boyfriend Dan's former best friend, Jeff Glover. Jeff was a very sad guy. He was hopelessly in love with this girl named Colleen, who ended up marrying a redneck and popping out a bunch of kids, I believe. She had absolutely no idea how talented and kind he was. He would often stick a lit cigarette in the frets of his guitar, and this act somehow lacked any trace of pretense when he did it. He just looked as though he genuinely needed a place to put his cigarette while he was concentrating on the more immediate business of playing...beautifully, usually. He was a big guy, but graceful--both emotionally and physically. I miss Jeff Glover. I think he's married now, too, and while I certainly wish him all the happiness in the world, I also sort of hope he's locked away some of his sadness for safe keeping. It was strangely perfect.