TTSOML #77: College With Beau Blixseth

After I filed the lawsuits, I continued with college courses at Portland State University. I had started going out for a drink on Friday nights with who I had thought was my best friend, Christa Schneider. It was her suggestion, and I first started out, of my choosing, with an Irish Coffee.

It seems no one in Washington D.C. knows how to make an Irish Coffee or what it is, but in Portland, Oregon, for whatever reason, they knew how to make them. I should say, some places knew how to make it right. So it became a little tradition to go out on Fridays and have an Irish Coffee.

Then I told Christa I'd like to try going out to dance. I never danced. I wasn't allowed to dance, really. When I was little, I had a friend who took ballet and I was so jealous. I wanted to take ballet. My friend, in 5th grade, Katie Fallon, said to me, in her young age, that I would be a good jazz or modern dancer. But I wanted to take ballet. I asked my parents and they didn't see the point. I was told piano was more useful. I never ceased to want to dance though. I watched some ballet and loved Tchaikowsky, especially "Sleeping Beauty" and the Nutcracker of course. When I was in college, they had Ballet In the Park, and I would watch the dancers practicing for their upcoming performances. It seemed so cruel, because I looked at all these bodies, which were just like mine! Short, slim, strong legs, petite, and well, mainly, flat chested. Oh well. I have bad knees so I probably wouldn't have held up in the long term.

I never danced in high school. I went to the big dances, but didn't really know "how" to dance. I didn't see dance on television and didn't go out. I did join dance team my last year of high school. I wasn't very good, but got some awards for being novice, without any experience. At least I learned how to plie and make a couple of turns in a row. But I had a very conservative background. So it was later in life that I said to Christa, I want to go out dancing. I was too shy to be seen and intimidated. I had to have a drink and squeeze myself into the middle of the throng where I hoped everyone was too squished to pay attention to me.

It was at this time that I switched my "drink" from Irish Coffees to Vodka-soda. Christa told me Vodka-soda had the fewest calories, was odorless, and, it was usually not that expensive either. So I would have one of those. I think I strayed only a few times, but it was on a very rare occasion.

Christa asked me if I wanted to smoke and had Marlboro Lights 100s and I tried one but coughed and hated it. So I didn't smoke at all. I didn't smoke tobacco or pot.

I had gone out dancing, in New York, when I was a nanny on the East Coast, but I was so unlearned, I remember I actually clapped my hands together at one point. At this posh place where everyone was gyrating and moving their hands around as if they were making impressions of snakes. I thought, "What in the world?" and then saw someone laugh when I struck a very 80s clapping pose. I think the last time I'd seen dancing on t.v. had BEEN in the 80s at a friend's house.

I didn't dance after that, after trying dance clubs a few times in New York, until years later, in Portland, Oregon. So we went out and I loved it, and after that, that's what we did every single Friday night. I went out dancing until almost 4 a.m. And we really danced.

At the same time, I took difficult courses in college. I took classes which were challenging. Christa told me which professors to take. Almost all of them were Catholic, I later found out. One, in particular, had an uncle who was a bishop or had a higher position over at Mt. Angel Abbey. That was Michael Clark. I never knew how he could manage to do so much. He had a hand in film, one in English, a foot in law, and another foot in New Jersy to visit his mother every so often.

I would tell Christa exactly which classes I was taking, or planning to take, before the term started. I began to meet someone, who always took a seat near me: Beau Blixseth

Beau usually wore blue jeans with sneakers and a black sports polo of some kind, and had an Ipod with him at all times. He was usually listening to music. I didn't know a thing about him, except that he sat next to me in one or two of my English classes, and that he and I had the same sense of humor. I was confused about him though, because half of the time he looked at me as though he detested me, and then other times he was engaging. The minute I ignored him, he was all over me, trying to get my attention.

Much, much, later, after I had finished two terms of classes with him, I found out his family had money, but I never thought of it before. His father was/is Tim Blixseth, who is supposed to be on Forbes list of richest in America, and I do remember thinking he had a family with money because Beau would talk to me about plans and ideas he had for various ventures.

I knew he was from California but I didn't know what part. He told me he'd gone to college in Montana and I think he was either kicked out or just moved for some reason. He said his father had bought a mountain or something, for a ski resort in Montana.

I told Christa, at some point, that I was a little bit attracted to him. He showed up in my next term's classes, and sat next to me again. But acted rude and ignored me until I ignored him.

Then, he was writing me notes in the middle of class, on scrap paper, and flirting. He asked me out to coffee after class the first time. I went to Starbucks with him, and he pointed out a Mercedes he wanted, to which I replied, "That's a hunk of steel." It was some brand new massive silver Mercedes that drove past as we were looking out the window. He said he wanted to build the largest bungee jump in the U.S., in Nevada. He said a lot of things about his family, which, despite what I believe are his connections, I won't expose here. A lot of it was grevious personal feelings of wrongs, resentment, and hurt. Not exactly nice things for me to share in detail. I do know he felt his father wasn't around for him enough, but that he got away with a lot because he was his father's son, or full blood son, or something or other. He brought up Paris Hilton and asked if I knew who she was.

I didn't know Paris, of course, but I knew about her, from reading Vanity Fair and Town & Country (I liked looking at the jewelry ads even though, curiously, I don't wear jewelry at all, usually). I saw her and her sister's photos in the society pages, but they weren't mainstream famous by any means. None of the Simple Life stuff had aired or even been presented, at that point. But he told me a little about it, and told me Paris was his first girlfriend. He seemed to be very proud of that. She allegedly dragged him into a guesthouse (which was on either his parent's or her parent's property) where they got it on, at a fairly young age. That was his side of the story at least. They were neighbors in California.

Later, Beau told me his Dad was involved in the music industry. As it turned out, he'd been a country singer. I believe he still had his hands in the business. I gave Beau a tape of some of my music. He seemed to be fairly impressed, asking me over and over how I had recorded it, and where. I told him, but he didn't believe me it seemed. I had used old fashioned tapes and old fashioned tape recording machines. Not even very expensive ones. It was just me and my guitar, in the kitchen. I would sing melody, record it, onto a tape, and then play this one one recorder while singing harmony and recorded the combination onto a second recorder. I used a handheld recorder for the main vocals and the larger machine for playing the background voice. And I actually didn't just sing into the open kitchen room. I experimented with singing and capturing sound in different parts of the house, and kitchen, and corners. I found a particularly good effect by singing into a spice cupboard I had which was made of wood and glass. I emptied it out and if I had one of the doors half-way open and the recorder inside the cupboard, and sang sort of against the glass, which I bent at a certain angle, it did something with the sound that was quite nice. It had a good echoing sound but with enough clarity that the voice wasn't lost in reverb. It made the voice stronger and the recording better. Sort of a mic, if you will. Or amp.

So I sang a badly done clip of "Closer To Fine" by Indigo Girls, and I may have used an original song I wrote, and then I also did a cover of the Eagle's song "Hotel California". Beau said he really liked this one, saying it was a nice interpretation. He said he'd never heard it done that way before, and that it was creative and original. The regular covers were all fast, like the original, but I sang it in a slow, melancholy way. And with two voices, my own voice doubling as melody and harmony. Maybe it's coincidence, but about a year after I gave him that tape, the Eagles came out with their "slow" version of Hotel California, and it was the exact same mood as I had created on the tape. But, I really think, I did it better. ;) It's more poignant from my voice, in that perspective. That's just my opinion.

Beau went with me to a guitar shop in Portland, where he played guitar and I sang. This was before I gave him my tape. He hadn't told me his Dad was in the music business either. Beau played very well, and was suprised by my voice I think. Then he asked me to have a glass of wine with him at a restaurant.

Prior to this, when we had gone to Starbucks a time before, he told me he wanted to get a hotel room with me. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and he said yes. I said how could he date me if he had a girlfriend. I didn't go for married men, committed men, or men who had girlfriends already. I had never taken anyone's boyfriend or tried to be with someone who was already committed, before. I felt, if he liked me, or if anyone did, they should first break up with whomever they were with first, knowing it wasn't "right" for whatever reason, and then pursue me. I thought it was too much like rebounding to do it the other way around. Not as brave too, like he has to stay with one woman before he immediately secures the second one. Of course, at that time in my life, it wasn't even in my MIND that some people have "open relationships". I hadn't even heard of the term at that time. But I was already pissed the Catholic clergy had tried to say I was the one trying to seduce their monk when I never was. I was more respectful of his position than he was. The WW article hadn't come about yet, but I didn't want to do anything which would lead anyone to doubt me either, that I HAD tried to seduce a monk. I had a lawsuit going on, which already stated what the truth was and I didn't need someone trying to make it appear as though I were of a different kind of character. I just told him I couldn't even kiss him if he was with someone else.

He acted so strange besides. One minute he was trying to get it on with me, and the next minute, he's telling me about a dream he had, which was bizarre. I told him, I remember, about a dream I had had the night before. I had had this very vivid dream that I was swimming laps in an outdoor pool next to a large single level house with a lot of trees around. It seemed like I was in Colorado or something, but in the woods a little bit or a woodsy area. I just remembered I was swimming and at peace and, I told him, it was like it was my pool. I said, "I wasn't the nanny". His response was to darken and scowl and say he'd also had a dream that his sisters were going to claw this woman whom he had seen in a dream. It was sort of weird because he seemed to imply me, and I didn't know why, because he was just telling me he wanted to get a room. He was acting so weird, but then he'd clear up and act normal again.

So when we went for a glass of wine, months later, it was before Spring Break. We went to this place where he said he had to use the restroom and was gone a long time. The place was large, and completely deserted. We sat at a back booth. About 15 minutes after he'd made his call, a man in a suit came into the place and took a table right next to us, by himself. He had his back to us, but I thought it was obvious he was eavesdropping. I didn't care, because we weren't saying anything important, but after a half glass of red wine, I was completely tipsy. It was at this moment that Beau said he wanted me to go with him on a "trip". He said he wanted to take me with him for a Spring Break holiday and thought it would be fun to take a train. He asked if I'd ever seen the movie with Ethan Hawke and that French actress...slipping my mind, juliet? julia? binoche? I don't remember right now.

I asked him if he was still with his girlfriend. His response was that they were broken up for Spring Break. I thought this sounded suspicious. He told me they were still "together" and that he loved her and he'd been with her for over 2 years, but he was "free" to date me over Spring Break because they were "separated". I said no, I couldn't do that. He said he knew she'd been with others, and I still said, "What do you think SHE would think of this?" and he mumbled and then wanted to go. The whole time, this guy in the suit is listening in. I felt he was there because Beau had called him to be there and I wondered why. I was wondering how he always ended up in my classes too, and sat next to me. I had told Christa about him.

When we were walking back, Beau took my arm. He said he was surprised such a little amount of wine affected me that much. I hadn't even finished my glass. I had complimented him on his ettiquette before and he'd told me his mother or stepmother had made him read and learn a book about manners. I noticed which side of the street he walked on and other things. It was appreciated and not lost on me. However, then he tells me, walking back, or maybe it was walking THERE, before i'd had the wine, that he wants to paint this monet scene on his wall. I thought it very odd, because he described the exact same painting I had told my friend Christa I was planning to paint, as a mural, on a wall in my rented place. She had seen the copy, from a calendar I had and it was a version of the Houses of Parliament. It seemed so strange that he wanted to paint the exact same one. So I began to wonder about Beau and who he knew and might be connected to.

What was most telling, was when I told Christa, and ONLY Christa, that I planned to give Beau a book as a present, our last day of class, before he left, as he said he was going to do, for California for law school. Christa asked what I was giving him and I said I didn't know yet. I never told her. At the last minute, I picked out a random book from my bookcase, because I bought and sold used books at that time (I resold them on Amazon.com), and it was a copy of Theroux. So I went to class with this book, and then when I presented it to him, he handed me a book at the same time. I just looked at him. It was a copy of "Paradise Lost" by Milton. It was the last time I saw him. I tried to give him a friendly hug and he acted repulsed by me. It was totally bizarre. He signed the copy he gave me, writing, "You're not allowed to sell this one."

Christa was the only one who knew, beforehand, that I was going to give Beau a book. I think it's more than odd that he decided to give me one as well, and that before that, he was telling me he was going to paint the same painting I liked, on his wall. Out of the blue.