Happy New Year

Lighting a candle tonight and praying for a happier new year.

I don't have much to say but this...

I've been gloomy, I've been depressed, so depressed that I've resorted to surfing Missed Connections on Craigslist, as it may be the only place more lonely and wretched than my own mind. But today, among all the sorrow and regret, something appeared that gave me hope:

7ish yrs ago, you (a Yellow Teletubby) and I made out at Malaia on 6th - w4m (Austin)

This is a long shot, but as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Picture the scene. It's six or seven years ago, I can't remember exactly. A Friday or Saturday night on Sixth Street in Austin, Texas. It could have been fall, winter, or spring, but without a doubt, not Halloween. Upstairs at the now-defunct Malaia World Lounge, under the open sky through the retractable roof, the crowd pulses to Euro-pop and Latin house music. The dance floor is crowded, but not too crowded; my friends have space to circle up in a protective shell where we can dance, watch each other's purses, and rescue the more vulnerable among us from unwanted male attention. At this point, I've pregamed at a friend's apartment and have probably drunk several vodka sodas downtown.

As I'm dancing with my friends, you arrive with your crew. It's clear that you're rolling in an entourage; you're all dressed up in Teletubby costumes, despite it definitely not being Halloween. The whole gang is there: Tinky-Winky, Dipsy, and that crafty fucker, Po. You make a splash, people laugh and cheer, it's funny. You strike my attention immediately; you're the yellow Teletubby, La La, who exudes a bright, positive energy. The crowd parts, then swells, until we're pushed into close proximity, as though the dance gods themselves were willing this to happen. Then our eyes meet and, like magnets, we're drawn to one another. We kiss frantically, pawing at each other's clothes; I flick your antenna. Times ceases to have meaning. The club, the music, the bikini'd go-go dancers, and my friends' whooping and hollering, fade into background static.

Then all of a sudden, we break apart. Hands pull me backwards; we're leaving, where's your purse, close your tab, the E-bus is coming! I turn back for one last glimpse, but it's too late; I see a yellow head bob through the crowd, fading into the distance, and then you're gone. Was it a dream? Did it even happen? Did you like, already own the Teletubby costume?

Either way, I thought of you randomly today. 

What can I say, but I do hope she reconnects with her passionate Teletubby. I hope it will be all that she dreams. But mostly, I'm just glad that someone is reminiscing about a life even stranger than my own.

Weirdness lives. Perhaps I can get some rest now.