You know I let you down, I've been clumsy with your heart again.

January 22. Lockdown week: ??? Year 2021. I gotta tell you, catching Covid was not on my January 2021 bucket list but here we are. And not I'm not only on lockdown but quarantine as well. And if you're guessing I'm pissed you're right. I feel like in a video game, three lives then game over. Yeah like that. I feel like it's game over for me. I mean I fully planned on getting over this pandemic without getting sick, despite finding it insane wearing a mask outside I always did because I was responsible to others and I bleached my hands bloody with alcohol. What I did not plan on though is one of my family members infecting me and them getting it in a fucking hospital. THAT was not on my bingo list. I'm just. Angry. But instead of moping about, or spiraling in a dark dark hole that is reading old posts about concerts (god I miss those) I am sharing an old post. Cute moment. A fond memory. This is an almost ten year old post now. Memory in it is a bit older. But an awfully fond one. Life was nothing short of perfect then. This was posted on December 19th, titled ''It's only love''.

''What do you think I was up to last night? Looking for trouble no doubt. But seems like there's such things as miracles, or better yet police chiefs prayers heard, because I did not find any actual trouble. Disappointing if you ask me. I was out with my sister and boyfriend. It's been a while the three of us had some fun together. We were in a club, purely because it has the ancient Japanese art called ''Karaoke''. Okay I hear you, I know what you're thinking, trust me I do. And if you're also thinking ''good night nurse  Nichol, that girl better didn't do it'' you may wanna stop reading now.

The general idea behind going out was to relax or really just get hammered before that dreadfull Sunday that's coming up, giving me all kinds of creeps. It felt good having fun to be honest. I forgot what that's like, been so caught up with all kinds of shit and drama it's ridiculous. I mean yeah we go to a shit ton of concerts, but concerts are the food for my soul, they're my happiness, but they aren't a place to drink and let lose. I crave a different kinda fun occasionally. Don't even remember when I spent time in a bar for fun, always events, always work.

When we walked in there were four guys on stage doing what I can only hope is a bad impression of the Backstreet Boys. Seriously the boys would be appaled at the…whining.  I give them props though I think they just weren't drunk enough for their ''talent'' to really shine through. I didn't plan on getting on stage at that point mind you, but all of you who know my dumbass boyfriend (a man child, a work in progress, all the bad  things said in the most loving way so help me god) can imagine how this one played out. The dude behind the bar was giggling as he walked up on stage asking who's next and like from the corner of my eyes, I see that oh so charming, deadly and dangerous grin. My lovely boyfriend the joker that he is gets up and goes ''oh I am so doing this next''. He gulps down like three shots worth of Fireball whiskey, winks and me and jumps on stage. I should of known right there and then that that will bring me nothing but trouble. Sigh. You guys, how stupid am I really? I never ever learn do I? Easy for him to get on stage he's a singer, easy for him cuz he's in a damn band! Alright he got up and held a speech on how hard picking a song is because he loves so many songs. Bullshit. All for an act.

The next moment he grins evily and goes ''how about a sing off you guys?'' shit. Just wanted to shoot him on the spot. I love him. But. That dumb bitch. My sister gave me the whole bottle of Jack Daniels saying ''you're going to need this you know''. Yeah. I do know. And not even a moment later he goes ''can my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend please join me on stage?''. That little fucker. I swear the world is not big enough to hold my wrath. Though I got up and joined him. Why? Because I had a killer outfit, too much to drink at that point and because he was certain I won't do it. And don't I just love proving him wrong. Well sweetheart this is not how I roll. No is not in my vocabulary, nor is fear. So I got on, tripping over my high heels. Don't drink and wear heels Nikki or you'll end up in the ER one day. I sat on the speaker with the whiskey bottle while he said ''I have a song! And Nikki, baby, this one is for you''.

And what did the asshole pick? ''Bryan Adams Run to you''. An artist on our bucket list to see live someday. And Run to you. A song that has meaning to the both of us. What sucks though is that his voice? Absolutely perfect. He sounds just like Bryan. And if you've had a few? Then you won't know the difference anyways. Of course he sang that absolutely perfectly while I just kept chugging my whiskey, trying to ignore the flirting. I was beyond nervous okay. And then the song ends, and that vicious smile comes back with ''your turn baby girl, beat this if you can''. Honestly at that point I would beat him. And not in the sense of the word he meant. But you know as I said, a little fun never killed nobody. And he will not win this fight. Besides I prefer a bit of crazy in my life, the kinda crazy like crashing bachlor parties, pretending to be a stripper, and things I shouldn't write down, I'm 60% sure they are illegal.

Anyways back to the story, he was leaning on the wall by the stage, grinning, his tight jeans too low, and a black tank top with tattoos on full display, and that attractive smirk that literally melts your panties…he was not making things easy for me. But you know whiskey courage. So I chose my own song, dedicated it right back to him, telling him to pay attention to the lyrics. What was it? ''Bryan Adams One night love affair''. No I aint never changing. But what's the shocking part here? The people in the club actually liked it. I mean, passed out drunk probably but still. I imagined one has to be comatose to like my singing. As the song ends the guy from before asks the crowd who they liked better. Surprise surprise he won? No not really. Neither did I. Someone yelled that we should do a duet. And that's how I got roped into yet another song of Bryans, the one he does with Tina Turner ''It's only love''. And indeed it is only love.

Singing Tina is hard as fuck you know. There's a reason that there's only one Tina. We did a good job on the song. Better than solos. I guess that's just what it is. A message from above that we are better together. People sang with us and when the song ends they were screaming ''kiss kiss kiss''. Funny. It was a perfect movie scene, he was just there, slowly pushing my hair off my face, his hand hooking in my belt loops, pulling me close, so close there was no space even for a piece of paper between us. And god that intoxicating Hugo Boss perfume that made my head spin. The anticipation of the kiss itself was enough to kill me and then he kissed me and the world melted away.

Were you ever kissed like that? Like the movies say, fireworks exploding, seeing stars, feeling shivers running up and down your spine. Everything was just gone there was just me and him and it was perfect. And he tasted like whiskey and mint and Jesus Christ I could honestly get addicted from it. Did y'all know it can be this intoxicating, addicting, all consuming? I haven't felt like this, well ever.

At the end of the day what did our ''lets play rock band'' adventure give us? Free drinks all night and does anything sound better than free drinks? Heck no. Free Fireball, I might as well die and go to heaven. Though this ''addiction'' would most likely end me in hell. Have you ever kissed someone with their lips tasting hot and fiery like Fireball whiskey? Heaven and hell. A bit of both. Have you ever fell asleep in someone's arms feeling like you're exactly where you should be? Heaven. Have you ever been woken up by a kiss from someone you absolutely adore? Pure heaven. And if this is heaven then I don't ever want to leave.

Safe to say that last night was actually pretty amazing. Wish the hungover wasn't such a bitch though, but on the other hand, if you wanna survive my family? Might as well start drinking early in the day. Hungover is a small price to pay. There's two ways to go when dealing with the fam. If you got booze – good. If you don't – bad. Start drinking at 8am, keep going till 8pm and hope for the best.

Do play some Adams, while I get sobered up and showered and inspect my skin, please pray to god that that David tattoo didn't get a matching one on the other side. I have a bad habit of doing stupid shit when drunk. Jesus christ.''

Funny how things change isn't it? One minute you're happy and one minute later, things come crashing like a stack of cards. Most of my dedicated readers know what I'm on about. The rest, I'm sorry but this is a topic for another time. Let's keep the memory positive and happy. No need for more sadness.

I was going to actually tie this post in with a review of Bryans album ''Reckless'' which is my favourite one. I just remembered too late that I don't actually have it no more. Sucks. I need to get a new copy at some point. And about a dozen others. Sigh. So since there's no review now, I managed to dig up these three pictures from the gig in 2014. We never saw it together, the ex in the post and I. But the concert was still pretty amazing. Remind me to do it again someday. When life is actually close to normal again. If that's ever going to happen. I have little hope for a normal world.

 

Is it just me or do you also feel surreal looking at concert pics and videos? Feels like…I don't know. It just feels strange. I haven't seen more than 3 people together for months. Actually I haven't seen people at all for months. A concert with 60 000 people? Wild. And fuck I miss it so much. The thrill. The happiness. Say what you will but 70% of my utter mysery is the fact that I have nothing to look forward to. My best friend used to say to never put all your happiness in a boy because when he's gone you got nothing. He was right of course. But I never once thought that putting my happiness into bands and concerts could result in the same outcome. They're gone, and I got nothing. Sigh.

Now, excuse me while I dig myself an even deeper hole by going into my concert files and watch some really happy memories. Enjoy the weekend you guys, play some Adams, get drunk, eat spoonfulls of Nutella. Whatever works. Cheers.

 

“After all, if there is a heaven, we will find each other again, for there is no heaven without you.”

I am so tired of living in historical events. Enough. Done. Tired.

I was so used to writing these posts up front, like a week before posting, sometimes more, but these days? Fuck so much is happening that that became impossible. America? What the actual fuck? I mean I'm not particularly surprised, we've all watched the slow build up till this happened. I must say Capitol was not on my 2021 bingo list but here we are. What disgusts me the most though is that the clown  actually said to these terrorists (yes terrorists, not protestors) ''I love you, you're very special''. Let that sink in. They. Are. Very. Special. I mean yeah, they are, but not in the positive sense of the word.

Also earthquakes? What the actual fuck? Our country and our neighbors shook well over 100 times in the past week and a half. Seriously? It came to a point where you feel phantom earthquakes, you constantly feel like the earth beneath you is shaking when in reality it's all in your head. Though it's pretty mild here I can't even imagine the people on the actual center area. Constantly  literally fearing for your life? Tough shit.

And just today, gas explosions. What the fuck? What is going on? I mean accidents happen yes but excuse me? 2020, the year that keeps on giving even after it ended. It's exhausting. Breathing alone is exhausting.

And Jesus Christ I can't believe it's January 8th and here I am still rambling about lockdowns. Well you've guessed it correctly. Guess where I'm going next week? Fucking nowhere because we are what? STILL on lockdown and STILL on police hour, like we were during occupation. Which you know means there was an actual war outside. Will this madness never end? It's been yet another tough week with a nice surprise thrown in between, but honestly, yet another week of lockdown? And probably more after? I'm not sure how much more my sanity can take. Probably it's hanging by a thread as is. Has been before Corona. I surprised myself for not snapping yet (knock on wood).

In such times I tend to shut down completely. You know how Sherlock has his ''mind palace''? Yeah, kinda like that. I can literally stare at my wall for hours, guess that's a side effect of being never alone but always lonely. The feeling is even worse lately. Having friends all over Europe is tough, they don't live in such prison like we do here, they live their lives more normally than we had in months, and in turn they're obviously busy. Add that to my constant loneliness and melancholy. Not being allowed to go anywhere, everything closed down, not being able to visit anyone doesn't help either. Sigh. Fuck, I hate feelings.

Or maybe I'd shut down binge watching a tv show, already scared to finish Vikings, I hear the ending is (once again, what a surprise) not too satisfying. But tbh, I've been wanting to re-watch Shadowhunters, and Mayans (yes again, don't you judge me). But what I did in between the horror of this week is finally read this book.

(Nicholas Sparks / The longest ride / Romance, Fiction)

I have a love hate relationship with Sparks. Sometimes I wonder who pissed in his cereal cuz he's so fucking bitter. It's fiction, can't let people be happy in a fictional story? Someone's always dying, someone always ends up hurt…and on the other hand I think he's a genius. Not many authors can write things quite as romantically beautiful as he can. Sappy as fuck sure, but sometimes in this cold, dark, bitter world, sappy as fuck is just what you need. At least I do.

This is another book, which I saw the movie first. Listen you can't expect me to not watch it when baby Eastwood is in it (yum!). I'm only human after all. And actually good thing I saw the movie first so I know the book is ''safe'' to read. I despise, literally despise sad endings, and what a waste it is if you go through like 400 plus pages of a good story only to be disappointed in the end? No thank you.

I'm a hopless romantic after all. I love a good love story. Usually amogst supernatural beings, angels, demons, vampires, you know the works, but every now and then humans will do too. Especially if those humans are sexy sexy cowboys. I go all soft for those.

''The longest ride'' tells a story of three, well actually four, main characters, Sophia, Luke, Ira and fourth character Ira's wife, Ruth, who has passed away. The book alternates points of view. Which is something that usually bothers me, I don't like these swaps, like I don't like major time skips but sometimes, in some books it works. So here it works perfectly. Not only because of the way the story is set up, but because it just flows nicer this way. And there are parts of the story only a certain person and a certain point of view can explain.

The story starts with Sophia a college student, studying art, I can relate to her, minus the blonde hair, we're a lot alike. Don't you love that in a book? Where you can find simmilarities and really connect to a character? Even if usually it's the bad guys I mostly relate to. Sigh. Sophia meets and starts a pretty unlikely romance with a rodeo rider named Luke. Not that we blame her. Who wouldn't? I'm sorry but a bull riding cowboy, in like tight Wranglers and cowboy boots? I'm getting a bit overheated here. I think the country girl in me is strong. This book makes me miss summer like crazy, bonfire nights, Fireball whiskey and mudding. Not that I saw any of that this summer. Well not that I saw anything this summer.

Of course the way Sophia and Luke meet has to be the perfect cliche, damsel in distress kinda thing. Sophia's ex badgering her and Luke stepping in to help. I've been thinking, I handle a jackass myself any day of the week, but if we're talking about sexy cowboys, I'd just might let him swoop in and save the day.  Along side with Sophia and Lukes story, Ira (stuck in a car after an accident, freezing. Here's the bitter I talked about) tells his story, of his life with his wife Ruth. I find Ruth so charming. An immigrant from Vienna (literally one of my top five favourite cities in the world) also an art lover, which is a parallel to Sophia and just generally the way she's described. She's funny, she's smart, she's beautiful.

It gets a bit confusing when the story shifts back and forth like this but eventually the stories collide and it all makes sense. Ira was literally put in Sophia's path because without even knowing they needed eachother. They were just what the other needed in their life. Sophia and Lukes life runs on different paths, he a country boy, she a city girl. Different goals, different ideas, which you know tests your relationship, and tests your love. It's never easy. Sophia and Luke both have hard decisions to make and Ira makes a huge difference in that choice.

I love how this book is literally as the title says ''the longest ride''. Life. From the begining of your path with that special someone to the end. You know from the moment (before really but lets be romantic) you say ''I do'', to the ''till death do us part''. As a marriage should be. I want to believe that when you say I do that's it. Not a prison sentence mind you but actually love, partnership. That's what I want anyways. I know nothing is forever, and I know you can never know for sure but I don't want to say I do if it's not forever. If I can't look behind on my life someday, looking at the happy memories and smile, knowing I did at least something right, then I don't want it at all. Sigh. A dreamer I know. Shut up. Let me dream.

Sophia and Lukes story is the romantic part and the dominant part of the story, Ira is more at the side, but I liked how he remembered his wife, reliving their happy memories, their life. And my, what a life that was. Full of love, laughter, art, travel, happiness. What more can you ask for? It kinda makes you sad too you know. They're only memories. Sure they lived a happy life, and he has pretty much zero regrets but they're just that. Memories. And memories though they make an experience great, tend to hurt like hell. But the way memories and life of Ruth and Ira are depicted makes you feel like true love does in fact last forever and actually exists. It's not all sunshine and cupcakes by the way, it's not a fairytale. There's downs as well. Bumps in the road. But they made it work. They did it together, fought for eachother. For their love. I think we're so lacking that these days. People give up on everything too easy. They give up on eachother, they give up on love. Their relationship. Listen to me boys, all any woman wants is that you fight for her. That you show you care and are willing to put in the work.

What I loved was how Ruth and Ira were art collecting. During their honeymoon, Ruth fell in love with some pieces of then unknown artists, which is what really sparked the fire. That's another thing I desire, buying art, because you love it not because it's worth money. I mean it's not bad if it is but really, art should be bought with the heart not with the price sticker. Just as life would have it though, by the time we read this story and Ira is stuck in his car, he is worth millions. And he was left to decide what to do with the thousands of art pieces they collected over the years. Like, imagine, you buy a young Pollock for say ten bucks because it speaks to you, because you happen to like it and 60 years later it's worth millions. Crazy. I argue about this with my family non stop. What would happen if you were one of the few lucky ones that find a dusty Monet on their attic. They'd sell right away of course, and I'm the psycho, crazy one because I say ''over my dead body''. They don't get it, like many people don't. Money is just money. Paper. Sure it's nice having it but there's millions of these ''paper pieces'' on this planet. How many are there Monet paintings? I'd much rather have it hanging on my wall then a million on the bank account. Guess, I'm crazy.

As we focus on Sophia and Luke again, her college is in the ''country'', so her dreams of working in a museum are clearly compromised if she wants to stay with Luke. Tough. Whatcha gonna do? Leave your career goals or leave the love of your life? I don't think you can ever choose. You let go of your dreams you'll regret that forever. You leave the person you love, you may never love again. Nothing is a sure way to happiness. Maybe adapting your dreams and goals is the best way. A compromise of sorts. Well when Luke told Sophia just how bad one of his bull riding accidents was she left him no room for compromises. Either riding or her. I mean I get it you know. You love someone, you want them safe, you can't stand the thought of anything ever happening to them. But also on the other hand, ultimatums are not leading to a happy relationship either. You love your person but you also love what you do. Having to choose. How can you? Not to mention bull rides are well paid and Luke needed that money to keep the family farm. You know how it is. If you can't do what you want, you do what you have to, just to keep on going. In a way, his mother owning the farm, what Luke was forced to do was choose between Sophia and his mother. But well, you can imagine what he chose. Sophia. And the fact that he just let it go, walked away, all for her. I'm sorry while I cry my weight in tears. Ultimate romantic gesture is it not?

The story lines crash when Sophia and Luke find Ira. And that sparks an unlikely friendship between Sophia and Ira, she would visit him and read his letters that he'd written to his wife. Cue in the water works. Do people do that these days? Can anyone write a romantic love letter any more? I mean…it's all social media and heart emojis, but can anyone still appreciate written word? Or putting emotions into words. I know, I'm one to talk…but that doesn't mean I wouldn't swoon at al proper love letter.

I was debating if I should give you the ending spoilers but let's be honest this entire post is a spoiler. It was kinda leading to this particular ending through the entire book, Sophia and Ruth being alike in so many ways. Sophia befriending Ira. Ira's art collection that needed a new loving owner…but he didn't just leave it to her in a will mind you. Months after he died there's an art auction that Sophia and Luke attend. An auction of Ira's art collection, but they didn't know it's his. And the first painting that goes on sale is an insignificant portrait of his wife. A portrait that has no value but it meant everything to Ira. Luke knowing that, bought the painting for four hundred dollars after nobody else bid on it. Just a few moments after buying it the auction ends and he finds out that because he bought it, Ira left his entire art collection to him. Oh my god. Honestly, in that moment if I was Luke, I think I'd faint. Die. Have a heart attack. Combust into flames or all of the above. I don't know. Something. So of course with this act of kindness, Luke has the money to save his mothers ranch, Sophia has the museum she always wanted to work in and Ira is with Ruth as he wished all along.  It's a beautiful ending, it all comes together just as it should. It leaves you happy and content and warm inside. That's just what I meant, this is all I want when reading fictional books. There's enough suffering and darkness on this planet. I don't need angsty and bullshit endings in my books as well. Or series. I'm looking at you Supernatural.

So here's the deal, if you're into romance, even if just every now and then, you may find yourself really enjoying this one. I know I did, and I usually don't even read Sparks. We all need to escape in a place that's happier than ours every now and then.