2.) For Mac user, please go to Finder > Go > Connect to Server > type smb://192.168.0.1 in the Server address > connect as a "guest"
7.) Insert the USB thumb drive to the iUSBCam device to update the firmware to v80. It is to prevent the device back to "End of Test" stage again.
The three am drunk dial is like a specimen slide. A tiny sliver of self, served up under a glass, and whoever takes the call like a scientist. Poking, and prodding, using it as a guide as they tap on your nerves. “Does this hurt? What about here?”
You spill your guts, and you stop asking for anything in return. It doesn’t matter, you won’t remember in the morning why it seemed so crucial anyway. You just have tearful confessions, admit to all the fear you feel when the sun is out, try to be a bigger person.
And when it’s your ex, you work that much harder. Try to make the slice on the slide a good one, a representative example. “I was just bored, and thought I’d call,” you lie, hiding the hitch in your voice. Trying to avoid saying “I still love you, won’t you come back, can’t we try again?” Because you know you can’t, but there’s the dangling drunken promise that just maybe, if you hold your breath long enough, fate will give in and let you snatch defeat (retrying the failed) from the jaws of victory (freedom from the pain it caused you).
Coffee and catching up on your lives like a biopsy. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” your ex offers, hesitant. Afraid you’ll cry and cling. And you, still numb with the anesthetic of knowing who the next partner is, nod and smile and fake your way through a curry. You give a hug, and think you can hear your pulse so loud it drowns out your goodbyes, your tears falling into your lap.
You pretend it doesn’t hurt, pretend you’re ready for something, anything, resembling real life, the whole time wishing you could fall off the planet, and you can’t, and you just hope against hope that the next cut isn’t as deep. That the one after that shallower still.
The ex used to be a rock star. I was his rock star girlfriend, not really a rock star in my own right, but definitely cooler because of my orbit around the little blonde sun he was. We’d go to parties, and he’d be popular, and people would get close to him to get close to me, and the whole thing would be kind of tawdry and ridiculous.
I tried being a rock star while I was dating him, but if I got too popular and out in front, it seemed like he’d feel the need to diminish me, because he was supposed to be the “name” in our relationship.
Last night Cusak and I went out to an event. And I realized that we’re rock stars together. He doesn’t feel the need to make me play smaller, to frame his performance with my own. He plays off me, and I play off him, and the whole thing makes the both of us a little cooler. A little more fun to be around.
We got in the three-way flirt last night, a couple of times, and I’ve also realized he’s really good at it. He can play off me in ways I’m not used to. It’s nice having a boyfriend who knows how to be a good wingman while maintaining his position as my boyfriend. This seems to speak well for my future in this relationship.
This entry was posted on Sun, 21 Sep, 2008 :: 264/38 :: 11:55:36 +0000 at 11:55:36 +0000 and is filed under cusak, real life with tags relating.	You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
I’m jealous. Jealous that you had the talent to be a rock-star. Jealous of your relationship with Cusak, too. Curious to know if you were known to me in your rock-star-dom days or if your ex was.
It’s rather eerie thinking that we could have the 6 degrees of separation going on, without requiring Kevin Bacon. More details on that, if you care to IM or e-mail me.
I wouldn’t say that. This morning, I’ve been trying to motivate myself to do laundry and clean the bathroom…Instead, Vanilla Sky got in the way on Bravo.