musings on a (not so) flat chested girl -- part twelve

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Sarah linked to my blog in the middle of this ridiculous story of a failed relationship, so if you want to read the other rambling nonsense (or at least find the beginning of this particular mess) please click the header or any of the links on the right. Also: hello.

Much like any relationship, the one I had with Dakota reached a low point. She seemed to be tired of having me around and I had grown wary of hearing about her problems. Neither of those issues were spoken aloud to one another in so many words, but we were both aware of the end of our infatuation with each other. Although we weren't dating and knew we never would, it was still time to do something together that would bring us back to normal, or, at least back to the state we were in when we first met each other. Which was, of course, only a few weeks prior.

We decided to pick one day out of the three day Austin City Limits Festival and go see some great live music. We settled on Sunday, which featured acts that both of us were excited to see. I thought this would be a good chance to share something we had in common, something that we could relate to, something that would allow us to forget about my homesickness, her mother, my jealousy, her root canal, and on and on and on.

Sunday morning started nicely enough. We took our time getting ready and headed towards Austin in a great mood. We kept telling each other how great a day it was going to be and how much fun we were going to have. When we arrived in Downtown Austin, I noticed that the sky was greying over and felt a slight tingle of rain. I didn't think much of it. I liked the rain and had missed it after living in Los Angeles for so long. On top of that, I was in such a good mood that nothing- absolutely nothing- could spoil the day. She parked her car and we hopped on a shuttle bus to Zilker Park where the festival was being held.

When we walked onto the grounds, a strange feeling came over me. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, really, just one of those things that seemed, well, off. I dwelled on it for a short time and quickly shoved it aside, immersing myself back into the moment. Dakota excused herself to find a restroom, and I decided it was a good idea for me to do the same. After I exited the free standing filth box I waited for Dakota and ended up talking to a guy who was also waiting for his date. We talked about music. He spouted off some names that I recognized and some that I didn't, but I treated all of them with the same nod and smile as if I was the prince of all indie rock nerds to his king. Dakota returned soon after he had finished with his "A.C. Newman is the greatest person on Earth even though he's a Canadian" rambles, and we took off into the crowd of hippies, hipsters, and fraternity and sorority whores.

The first band we saw play that afternoon was G. Love and Special Sauce. They weren't bad by any measure, but I can't say if they were really good or not, because I was distracted during the entire show. I tried, for once in my life, to be affectionate with a girl, hugging Dakota around the waist, but she was having none of it. She didn't shove me off so much, but it was clear that she could do without me touching her at all. After the set, instead of talking about the show or anything nice for that matter, she went off about her mother and her ex-boyfriend. While I didn't mind being "the good listener" or the "nice guy," I was sure as hell tired of hearing about her issues. Her mother was one thing, of course, but how many times did I, her current man for all intents and purposes, have to hear about the evil ex? How would she feel if the roles were reversed? Did she even entertain the idea about the roles being reversed? I had the feeling that she didn't even think about me as a man in her life but rather just another person to unload her problems on, albeit one that she slept with a few times. I couldn't take it anymore.

Due to our own individual interests in music, we decided to split up. I left for Ben Kweller and she for her own thing, and we agreed that we would meet during Jack Johnson's set. How we would actually meet up, what with me having no mobile phone, was never discussed. I suppose we just thought it would be easy enough to find each other. We never were very good at thinking.

While I was watching Ben Kweller, all I could think about was the fact that she had turned the otherwise nice day into a bitch fest with her personal issues. When I snapped out of my head to actually listen to Ben, I realized that he was just playing his entire first album from beginning to end, which was not such a bad idea, really. Of course, I thought he played it in such a lackluster, uninterested manner that I started to get even more pissed off. I was all alone, had no phone and a head full of regret for even coming to the event. Watching a bunch of kids play mediocre music for an adoring crowd was making my blood boil. What the hell was I doing there? I should be back in L.A. playing my own music, I thought, not listening to these hacks noodle around on stage for a bunch of stupid hippies.