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under_control
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» the last cynic Today I should be a mess. But as we all know, things seldom turn out as we expect. Yesterday I was practically incapable of action I was so miserable. I had an invitation to hang out with rmutt and his performance artist freind, KK, who is apparently looking for an American man to marry so that she can get her citizenship. I blew the invitation off, left work early and practiced a little consumer therapy. One DJ Cam CD and one copy of Infinite Jest later I was seated quietly in a Berkeley coffee shop up the way from my place. Later, tucked into bed by 10pm, I polished of de Sade's Juliette with a sigh of relief. I won't even go into what an unpleasant experience that book was. 1200 pages of unerotic erotica and repetative philosophical sophistry. 'Nuff said. Why was I so miserable? Well, I talked to G on the phone and I finally realized two things. One is that her memories of the eight years went spent together are entirely different from mine. She remembers the squabbles over financial problems. She embelishes the discord that existed as it exists between any two people. She forgets the smiles and laughter and things shared in commmon and the fact that no matter whether or not we argued during the day, by night we slept in each other's arms. The other thing I realized is that I've spent two years of my life in the akward hope that she and I might reuinite. She could have dispelled this belief at any time over the last five or six months, but chose not to. What a waste of my precious time. I guess it feels good to finally be angry with her, although I'll never show her my anger. This is my only comfort, that I will forever be mild, patient and understanding with her. So, today has been fairly pleasant. I got a call back from Laura Questionmark (I still haven't found out her last name so I just have her listed as "Laura ?" in my phone book.) She invited me to a club next Friday and wants me to act as her tourguide when she heads over the bay to visit Berkeley. This lifted my spirits no small degree. I wandered to the poolhall up the street to practice a bit. I have a long way to go, but I'm having a good time just hitting the balls around. Now I'm supposed to be getting ready to head to a dinner party that I'm not exaclty anticipating. But it will be an interesting diversion nonetheless. Too bad all of my nice clothing is in need of a trip to the dry-cleaner's. I'll have to slum in my baggy clay-denim slacks. Oh yeah.. that reminds me... I wanted to put up this bit of e-mail that rmutt got from his 13 year old sister in Canada:
I mean... whoa! Was I this unaware of how boneheaded I was when I was 13? Of course. C'mon, "The last thing you need is to make people think you believe in absolutes." What kind of spineless "I'll do whatever my peergroup dictates as 'cool'" statment is that? I've spent the better part of my life trying to pick and choose consumer items without brand logos, and now these kids aren't happy unless they demonstrate complete assimilation. What happened to cynism? I always thought that if anything would alienenate me from the upcoming generation it would be that they would be ten times more cynical than I could even imagine... whatever. At least one thing is certain, they will look back at themselves with the same uncomfortable giggles that I do. Especially these white boys who try to pull off 'Jailin,' or wearing your pants down around your thighs. A friend of mine once saw a jailin' skater-dood get hit by a car and his pants literally flew off. She had to cover him up with her coat. God it felt good to get that off my chest. More misdirected ramblings to come.
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diaryland |