My Doppelganger Must Be a Bitch. Doppelganger Stories #1 and #2.

Story #1

Some weeks ago, I passed by a lovely restaurant on my walk home from work.  (I’m currently residing in Ann Arbor, MI) I like walking down Washington Street, especially around sunset as everything takes on a majestic golden hue, even, somehow, on the snowy gray days of late.

I have a habit of intensely looking into restaurant and bar windows, I like to study the décor and lighting—and sometimes I forget that there might be people inside that might look back at me mid-chew or mid-sip and I further sometimes forget that what I’m doing might be potentially rude or even creepy.  That aside, this particular restaurant had gorgeous orange walls and fancy tablecloths and so I completely did away with any thought toward public decorum.

While marveling at the mix of exposed brick and earthy tones and heavy curtains and general lack-of-people, I inevitably happened upon the few people in the back who were glaring at me in the safe distance.  One of them made a gesture indicating that I knew her.  Maybe it was a wave, though it looked more like a lazy attempt at one, the kind really in-love-with-themselves-types make, so I didn't pay special attention.  Until I noticed a second later as I was just going out of view that she flipped me off and the rest of her gang seemed to half-nod in approval.  They must have thought they knew me.  Surely, groups of people don't go around to  restaurants half-waving and flipping off people they don't know through windows, right?

Right.  So my estimation: my doppelganger must be a bitch.  To know people like that and for them to respond like that, it must be so.

Story # 2

I was at Bab's on a Saturday night. Lovely little basement bar not too far from story #1.

I would not recommend going there on weekends.  It transforms from its usual quiet and romantic self to a chaotic and unfortunate place, packed with UM cattle of the college girl/boy looking for a quick thrill variety.


Anyhow.  Muscled my way through the UM throng up to the barman.  A very artfully disheveled hipster with an ironic UM hat brought my drinks and excitedly/yet somehow lazily let me know that he thought for sure I was one of his colleagues in his architecture program and wasn’t that something.

No. It wasn’t.  It only proved story # 1’s conclusion.  My doppelganger must be a bitch.

Or even worse….a hipster.

Oh God.
 

Day 6: A Song That You Know All the Words To

I'd originally wanted to be smarmy and put an instrumental here... but in the interest of keeping this list decent, I have put here a song I’ve known the words to for most of my life – and was only recently reminded of this through the good will of my friend (and now co-landlord!), Will.  

A story about this song’s place in my history, a story close friends have heard many times:

When I was 15, I went down to Kentucky to help rebuild houses with my church’s youth group (oh to be religious and altruistic again!).  We'd set there to work a week and the owner of the house I was working on, Lee, was an elderly Southern gentleman with a fondness for sweet tea and country music. 

One day, he called me over to sit with him.  We sat on a swinging bench.  He gave me a glass of pink lemonade.  He wore overalls and a t-shirt and a look of weak interest.  All the other kids in the group had talked to him already.  I'd look over and see them wildly gesticulating, most likely about some bible story that inspired them or something they thought'd impress Lee.  He would smile, not say much and they would saunter off with confused looks.  Hadn't they entertained him with their youth and declarations of devotion to God?  I would see all this and pretend to look busier and busier in the hopes he wouldn't call me over.  Not only did I already know I wouldn't impress Lee, at that time, I was a much shier Renee and the thought of having to talk to some strange Southern man named Lee scared me a little.   Anyhow.  He called me over. 

We sat and looked at his yard for awhile.  I'd already ran out of things to say.  I thanked him for the lemonade and prayed he'd talk soon.  And he did.  He got to talkin' about women. 

His, particularly.  He pointed toward the back of the house where the weeds grew tall and told me his wife was buried there.  He told me he had cancer and had dug the open grave next to his wife's some time ago.  He lit a rolled cigarette from his pocket and told me about other women.

His cousin's, particularly.  I don't remember his name, but Lee said he was a "wild 'un".  He had a red Chevy convertible and would drive it all over town, with a pretty new girl in the passenger seat every weekend.  One of those weekends, Patsy Cline was in the passenger seat.  She was one of his weekend women.

My first thought:  Thank Christ!  Something I can finally talk about!  I LOVED PATSY CLINE.  Second thought:  woah!!!  Patsy Cline!!  What a story.

We spent the better part of that afternoon, finishing a pitcher of pink lemonade and talking about country music.  Old country, the only good country.  He laughed at my enthusiasm for it. 

Apparently, I entertained him with my youth.

So here it is: a song I know all the words to and always will.  "Sweet Dreams" by Ms. Weekend Woman herself: Patsy Cline.

Day 5: A Song That Reminds You of a Certain Event

1 year ago today.

My overnight in Hong Kong on the way to Saigon.

On the fast train. Video-recording reflection in train window. Harbors, British automated voices, overwhelming industry, polite Chinese gentlemen and this song:

Day 4: A Song That Reminds You of Somewhere

Suwon, South Korea.

NYC, before I really forget... (2010

don't know where I'll be for the next while...so this captures my last excursion to New York, post-Korea.

__________________________

Daft Punk "Da Funk"
Nouveaunoise "Japan"
Gilles Peterson "Why Can't There Be Love"
Prefuse 73 "Styles That Fade Away With a C"
Caribou "Bowls"
The Ruby Suns "Closet Astrologer"
Philip Glass "Channels and Winds"
Madvillain "Fancy Clown"
Daedelus "Succumbing To"

Day 3: A song that reminds you of someone

SO.  I'm going to bend the rules a little on this one and extend it to several songs that remind me of several certain someones. 

**Please note I've excluded all those I'm in daily contact with: all you Korea ppl.  That you are not on this list does not mean you are not worthy of being on it (quite the opposite.)  Also, for those of you that are in the States and feel jipped for not being on here: we need to listen to more music together!  I couldn't think of a song for you...

Also, I really could just be talking to myself at this point.  Not sure of who really reads this thing.  Except for you Brandon-- you comment on everything! 



You know who you are.

You will forever be the closest person to me.  Even when we are squabbling about knitting needles in the Old Lady's Home for Frisky Feminists we'll be living in...even then. 



You know who you are.

<3



You know who you are.

Dive bar.  Homo hill.  The early days in Seoul.  Dancing to this.

Spacious 2.  Video projector on white quilt.  Christmas.  Sugar plums, sickly sweet wine and asian dust.  Dancing to this.

Kingston, Ontario.  Winter reunion in the western world.  Hopefully dancing to this.  ; )



You know who you are. 

I'm sorry. 



You know who you are.

Do you remember that Rasberry Beret album I got you?  Well...just listened to that song again-- and that is a bad song.  Seriously. 

Can you still do the Prince falsetto?  Cos I remember it being pretty spot-on.  I hope you're keeping it up. 

You are still the *only* person that's visited me in every locale I've lived in!  If anything, I'm glad I've given you the excuse to travel-- though it will take many years before I even half-way catch up to all the places you've been.  Something to aspire to...



You know who you are.

And for the final time, she was *not* flirting with you.

Still the wittiest person I know.  Also, cannot wait to see the new stacks of books in your apt. and the new disparaging comments about absolutely everyone...  ; )



You know who you are. 

Not the exact version, but good enough. 

I will forever be indebted to you and your apartment for helping me to finish my first script.  And indebted for helping me through some tough times in New York. 

Can't wait to go to Tom's again! 



You know who you are.

I know you're a Steve Earle die-hard, but...somehow it's always Townes that reminds me of you.

I met you on my first *ever* night in NYC. 

Aside from the big names that pass through, you are quite possibly my favorite comedian in New York.  Seriously. 

Also, you introduced me to the other Mr. J -- and even though he's a huge (huge) dork, he's one of my few film counterparts in the city.  We must get g&t's in September at La Negrita-- or I guess some snobby hipster bar now that you're in fancy Brooklyn. 



You know who you are.

While we haven't listened to this album together yet, you must be as in love with it as I am, considering you're the biggest Albarn fan around (aside from Ms. J, of course). 

You might also have the biggest (bleeding) heart of anyone I know.  ; )  I am continually inspired by your mere day-to-today and cannot *wait* to visit all those weird (but of course, enlightening and awesome) one-off events we go to. 

Til then...

----

A song that makes me sad

I wish I had some gutting words to prop this post up a bit...but I'm feeling rather wordless at the moment.

Suffice it to say, this song really does make me sad...