Friday, June 11, 2010

Going Down With The Groogrux King




The last couple of days have found me deeply introspective, last couple of weeks really. Just spending a lot of time in my head thinking about what I want, what I should do and what I need to live happily in each and every second of this life of mine. It may have begun percolating when I started writing about my mother, maybe after the wine blog awards dealie, the ex-boyfriend, the visit from a friend I miss terribly, the birthday before forty….maybe it was all of it, but something began the tiny bubbles that now tickle my ears. The bubbles dancing along my jaw the way they do when I plunge my big body deep into the tub, the sizzle as the spheres explode each one whispering some faint concern, condemnation, worry….laugh.

It starts as it has for the past two years, here with this blog. Me wondering if anyone is listening, if anything I say matters and why the hell I feel so drawn to share myself with all of you. Even now as I hear my nails tapping across the keys I wonder who my words will land upon. Are their eyes rolling, am I whining, being a punk, feeling more connected and important than I have any right to be? It’s so funny, everyone praises me for being so fearless to open myself here and the truth is…I am here seeking. I give a piece of myself, chunk by little chunk and hope that somewhere out there someone is picking up one of my pieces, dusting it off, listening to it, caring for it and in some far off distant way, caring for me. Not fearless…needy.

So I pull away from this space when I feel myself spiraling into that cycle. I retreat deeper into my head, begin undressing my mind. Pulling away all the little bits of long ago, of right now, unraveling them like a bandage, letting each piece drop beside me, each strip tattered and wearing a layer of me. My time, my thoughts, my energy….my want. All sitting beside me on the couch like some tiny volcano…each peeled off segment a curvy piece holding my puzzle together. As I sit amidst the little untangled bits of time, energy, memory, lust, love, pain, loneliness, fulfillment…I start to sift through them, picking them up, inspecting them and discarding the ones that are no longer useful or wanted. I found, as I always do when I do this kind of clean sweep of my soul, there was one sticky piece that seems to gum up the rest. One gooey chunk that kind of oozes its power all over the other areas of my life, clouds my vision and knocks me off the path I set myself upon years ago and much like gum in my hair it needs to be cut out in order for the rest to continue growing.




Usually the sticky tangling bit is another person, someone distracting me, stealing my attention and focus, my drive and desire to just be content with what I do have. This time it is in fact a rerun of that old happiness robbing habit, but this time it is not one person…..it’s a bunch of them only they are not the ones causing me grief, it’s my incessant and somewhat juvenile need to please them. As someone that has kind of prided herself on being her own person, following her own rules….well that shit there is simply debilitating and down-right infuriating.

I’ve always felt that this blog is really good for me, it’s a place for me to explore my voice, rant, expose my passion and get myself intertwined with some of the most interesting and amazingly supportive people. It is still that for me but it can also feed the ugly, oozy gunk that messes with my focus and once that starts to set in it begins to wrap its nasty hands around my throat and chokes the voice that I was just beginning to have control over and even beginning to be proud of. I find myself bending my words as not to offend, trying to think of topics that might make people talk no matter how little I personally care about them. At one point a couple of days ago I was so frustrated that I went to the blog and typed in: Parker, Points, Social Media, Interstate Shipping….Talk to me. Pathetic right?!





After the horrible game last night, that loss adding another grumpy chip on my shoulder, I grabbed my ipod and just hit play…


“It’s why I am”

“Unlikely to agree”

It’s why I am”

“Climbing out of my monkey tree”


“It’s why I am”

“The one to make you smile”

“It’s why I am”

“A snake in the woodpile”

“So when my ghost comes to take me from you”

“You can remember the fool that I am”

“Don’t cry Baby. Don’t cry”

“Why I am”

“Still dancing with the Groogrux King”

“We’ll be drinking big whiskey while we dance and sing”

“And when my story ends it’s gonna end with him”

“Heaven or hell, I’m going down with the Groogrux King”

Dave. It was Dave Matthews once again saying the most perfect thing at exactly the right time. I’m telling you Mr. Matthews (goddamn it Google Alert) you are the cure for just about anything.

I hit replay and listened to the song again, lets the words sink in, let them absorb all the yuck I had been feeling and let Dave Matthews remind me that I don’t want to, never wanted to be anything other than what I am. I will not live my life by some standard or ideal, my mother and grandmother were both that kind of woman, they died unhappy, unfulfilled and with years’ worth of stuffed away emotion and desire…fuck that. Not going down like that, not in life and not on this blog.

Gonna just keep posting whatever it is that pops into my tiny brain, not let the number of comments discourage me and see the ever growing number on my stat counter, (thanks for that by the way) as proof that someone is in fact finding my little chunks, listening, caring for them and in the tiniest way for me. Fuck I feel better already.




One rant down
God only knows how many more to go…..
Faithfully
Less Sticky and
As Always
Yours,
Sam

9 comments:

k2 said...

Music is definitely the cure-all. It has saved me more than I could know. Glad DMB got you out of your funk.

Ron Washam, HMW said...

My Gorgeous Samantha,

I think that if all the lurkers knew how depressing it is to know they're out there, know they're digesting your words, but they remain silent, maybe they'd chime in more often. Maybe this post will lure a few out into the open.

I've noticed that, in general, comments are way down on many wine blogs. Even the Poodle nominees seem to have fewer and fewer comments. Even when they fish for comments by ending every post with leading questions, their comment counts are down. Is it because there are too damn many blogs? Or is it just burnout? I think it's burnout.

I've never yet figured out which of my obnoxious posts will generate a lot of comments, and which will not. It does seem, however, that the posts I love get zippity-do-dah, while the ones I slap together at the last minute generate nothing but noise. I've abandoned figuring all that out.

OK, here's a sure way to get comments. Take a hiatus! Works for me. Or write about how important bloggers are to the wine business--that brings them out in droves. Or run a contest where the best comment wins a prize, maybe a night at Tracy's with you. Or, alternatively, don't worry about it. We both have our cadre of regulars, and a fine bunch of wackos they are too.

OK, I'm going on far too long. But doesn't the Internet encourage voyeurism? People want to feel involved by watching, and the Internet is a dream for that. And the more people flock to FaceBook and Twitter and believe that's actual social interaction, the less likely they are to participate in blog discussions. It's a world full of Chauncey Gardners. "I like to watch."

I love you!

Your HoseMaster

Sip with Me! said...

Introspection is good, embrace it and continue to be just who you are. Rant all you want girl, that's the beauty of your blog, it's your blog, say whatever the frick you want and don't worry so much about offending others… you can take a lesson from Ron on that one!

AnotherDayofCrazy said...

Fantastic rant. I'm suffering the same gooey-ness taking over, I can feel it. I resent it, and I resent the way I let it affect me. I needed this today, this rant, this reminder.

AnotherDayofCrazy said...

PS: Just for fun, I tagged you the other day over on my blog to show us your shoes, and maybe share a memory they evoke. :)

anotherdayofcrazy.blogspot.com

webb said...

Or maybe, we lurk because you write so damn well, and we are over-whelmed with envy. Or, can't begin to think of how to help, other than to "listen". Lots of shoulders willing to share the load.

Samantha Dugan said...

k2,
Dave has healed me more times than I can count. The crazy thing is it's always the right album or song at exactly the right time...amazes me.

Ron My Love,
You and I have talked about this a billion and seven times and I know that you understand. It is so deflating and for me at times painful to pour yourself into something, see that 200 plus people have checked it out and you get like 7 comments....crushing for me and I fully admit it feeds my insecurities. I think that is why I needed to just say it and let it go. Be all in love with you beloved creatures that do comment and see that those hundreds that keep coming back are finding something worth reading here. In not-so-short quit my bitching and stop being a big fucking baby.

I love the suggestions but fear "winning" a night with ME at Tracy's might send more people fleeing! I love you kid.

Sip with Me,
Thanks lady and the rant was much needed I assure you. Ron is always telling me he has a lesson to teach me but I was kinda ascared to ask.....

Another Day of Crazy,
Oh baby you don't want to see my jacked up shoes....trust me. I am so not girl in that way, I have 3 pairs and one of those is flip flops. Let me see what I can come up with. I'm so glad you got something out of this along with me. I find that those nights that I spend pulling a my little bits apart can go a long way in getting me back on track. I will be thinking of you tonight as I drink a little too much now that I am freed of my garbage...cheers lady.

Webb,
Well hell that was sweet. I still have a hard time believing that my writing is any better than most. When I read the stuff I write it just sounds like me talking so no big deal right? But thank you for thinking there is some kind of talent involved, means a lot. Oh and just so you know, taking the time to comment goes a very long way in helping but knowing you are out there listening is more than enough....now that I threw my little fit. (Grin)

AnotherDayofCrazy said...

No worries, Sam, one of mine was flipflops too... it was more a trip down memory lane for me. I'm drinking along with you tonight, a big bold hearty red. Cheers!

Chris Jones said...

Ron says on his blog that he writes "for the sheer joy of creation." I agree. Keep true to yourself and fans will follow.