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Saturday, December 20, 2003
Yesterday was a strange, strange day. I got a lot of unexpected news, and processing the information now, as opposed to just about any time in the past, is a learning experience. The things I don't know about my heart.
Once piece of news, the one I will share, is that a friend from my EMT class is separated from his wife. This sort of knocked me over when he told me about it, since there was a time that he was the only man I wanted around. Our was a close but chaste friendship, tons of fun, but as the weeks went by I knew I was getting a little addicted to his company. I was incapable of falling in love, and thank ye gods for that since, at the time, he was engaged, but I was quite capable of falling in like, and I did so, deeply. The class we were taking together ended, he got married, I ran away to the woods for the summer, and I got over it. And I remembered him fondly, and looked forward to our random drinks and games of pool over the past year. And now, to come home, and to hear this news.
Mostly it makes me sad. Any news of two people who really tried to make it work, and were unsuccessful in that effort, makes me sad. I hope that such breakups are mutual, and I know that when they happen, the two involved will only be better off, but knowing that intellectually while your heart is shattered is not much help. I also know that my friend and his wife might work it out, in fact, I believe they will. (This is only my instinct on the matter, not based on any actual facts.)
What I truly hope is that all these people, all these aching hearts, will find themselves if not happier, more at peace. I've been single for almost three years now, three years on Valentine's Day. Even though, on that fatefull day in the year 2000, I was whole-scale abandoned, destroyed, fucked over, I knew every second of every wretched post-breakup day that I was far, far better off. I know I bear my soul on this blog probably a little more than I ought. All of my loyal readers know what I've lived this last year. I regret nothing. I certainly don't regret writing about everything from my love(less) life to my butt issues. Ultimately, though, I'm doing fine. I'm doing just fine. And I know all of my friends going through all of this tough stuff will be just fine, too.
Once piece of news, the one I will share, is that a friend from my EMT class is separated from his wife. This sort of knocked me over when he told me about it, since there was a time that he was the only man I wanted around. Our was a close but chaste friendship, tons of fun, but as the weeks went by I knew I was getting a little addicted to his company. I was incapable of falling in love, and thank ye gods for that since, at the time, he was engaged, but I was quite capable of falling in like, and I did so, deeply. The class we were taking together ended, he got married, I ran away to the woods for the summer, and I got over it. And I remembered him fondly, and looked forward to our random drinks and games of pool over the past year. And now, to come home, and to hear this news.
Mostly it makes me sad. Any news of two people who really tried to make it work, and were unsuccessful in that effort, makes me sad. I hope that such breakups are mutual, and I know that when they happen, the two involved will only be better off, but knowing that intellectually while your heart is shattered is not much help. I also know that my friend and his wife might work it out, in fact, I believe they will. (This is only my instinct on the matter, not based on any actual facts.)
What I truly hope is that all these people, all these aching hearts, will find themselves if not happier, more at peace. I've been single for almost three years now, three years on Valentine's Day. Even though, on that fatefull day in the year 2000, I was whole-scale abandoned, destroyed, fucked over, I knew every second of every wretched post-breakup day that I was far, far better off. I know I bear my soul on this blog probably a little more than I ought. All of my loyal readers know what I've lived this last year. I regret nothing. I certainly don't regret writing about everything from my love(less) life to my butt issues. Ultimately, though, I'm doing fine. I'm doing just fine. And I know all of my friends going through all of this tough stuff will be just fine, too.
Thursday, December 18, 2003
I had a rare moment of insight tonight after watching "Something's Gotta Give" with a friend. I realized that watching a movie with him was exactly like sleeping next to him- it is little different than being by myself. He is a good guy, a smart guy, and there are reasons why we had some semblance of a relationship for many months last year, but ultimately I realize that I was just filling time. Why would I choose to spend time with a man who, over the course of three or four hours, asked me a total of two questions? He is one of those who will talk at you, all night, without engaging you once. Fortunately some of that talk is brilliant, but some is also banal and I'm just tired of it. I've had moments when I thought maybe, maybe someday we could figure this out and make something of our relationship. Now I see, clearly, that he will always be a friend, even a good friend. But the man I wait for is something altogether different.
My good friend Kellie took me to lunch at Union Square Cafe, the unnamed restaurant that filled three years of my life. I feel that now I can safely say where I worked, particularly since it is better than ever. Lunch was terrific, and so was seeing a lot of friends. Kellie and I also Christmas shopped in the booths on Union Square, and I was almost successful in not buying myself anything. Every year I forget that those little booths spring magically from the pavement. Every year I'm surprised at what great stuff appears in each colorful stall. Every year I wish I had about a thousand bucks to spend on myself, and another grand for each person in my family.
I gotta start going to bed earlier.
My good friend Kellie took me to lunch at Union Square Cafe, the unnamed restaurant that filled three years of my life. I feel that now I can safely say where I worked, particularly since it is better than ever. Lunch was terrific, and so was seeing a lot of friends. Kellie and I also Christmas shopped in the booths on Union Square, and I was almost successful in not buying myself anything. Every year I forget that those little booths spring magically from the pavement. Every year I'm surprised at what great stuff appears in each colorful stall. Every year I wish I had about a thousand bucks to spend on myself, and another grand for each person in my family.
I gotta start going to bed earlier.
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Politics, Republicans, Wars, all of it be damned. Ultimately, when Return of the King exists, the rest of it is just distraction.
I will include no spoilers, here, so fear not. But I'm actually going to have to see it a few more times before I can answer the question: "What do you think about the movie?" It's like trying to qualify the Beatles, or Monet, or a Mouton Rothschild cabernet. You can break it down, you can analyze, but the greatness is simply in the experience.
As much as I've been looking forward to this night, I'm also mourning that it is already over. What now do I have to look forward to? What the hell am I going to do next December? I have to be satisfied with Christmas!?!? Ah, me. I will have to resort to returning to my own inner fantasy life. Rich as it is, I could not have created Aragorn. Tonight, Jordana leaned over to me and said, "You know he's like 45" to which I replied, with a sigh, "Perfect". Viggo Mortensen, I understand that your former wife was Exene. I realize that I am no famous rock star, nor a known actor. But I have a lot to offer. We have much in common. I, too, like horses.
Mr. Peter Jackson, I appeal to you to follow through with your yearn to make "The Hobbit". I know that there are no female hobbit heroes, but given some digital lengthening effects I could quite easily be an elf. I already have the hair.
Yours truly,
The future Mrs. Mortensen
I will include no spoilers, here, so fear not. But I'm actually going to have to see it a few more times before I can answer the question: "What do you think about the movie?" It's like trying to qualify the Beatles, or Monet, or a Mouton Rothschild cabernet. You can break it down, you can analyze, but the greatness is simply in the experience.
As much as I've been looking forward to this night, I'm also mourning that it is already over. What now do I have to look forward to? What the hell am I going to do next December? I have to be satisfied with Christmas!?!? Ah, me. I will have to resort to returning to my own inner fantasy life. Rich as it is, I could not have created Aragorn. Tonight, Jordana leaned over to me and said, "You know he's like 45" to which I replied, with a sigh, "Perfect". Viggo Mortensen, I understand that your former wife was Exene. I realize that I am no famous rock star, nor a known actor. But I have a lot to offer. We have much in common. I, too, like horses.
Mr. Peter Jackson, I appeal to you to follow through with your yearn to make "The Hobbit". I know that there are no female hobbit heroes, but given some digital lengthening effects I could quite easily be an elf. I already have the hair.
Yours truly,
The future Mrs. Mortensen
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
I'm sprawled on the fold-out bed of Sean and Jordi's apartment, the only one still up, the only light from my computer screen. I had a blessed, quiet, five-hour flight that ended with pancakes and eggs at a Queen's diner. I'm thrilled to be back in my city, but I'm quietly underwhelmed at the hundreds of images of "Saddam" (apparently America is on an only first name basis with the infamous prisoner) plastered on every magazine and TV screen. I don't feel any need to detail what has already been said- and I could never say it as eloquently as Ian or Bud- but what I do feel is the need to reinforce the battlements and prepare for what is to come. Bush thinks that the capture of Saddam is going to erase the unease that the undecideds had about this war. He thinks that his frat-boy, war-mongering bullyism is going to be overlooked because we have that pathetic old man in chains.
This means that we, the decideds, must be activists when it comes to this bullshit. I don't know what that means, exactly, but it has become that much harder to oust our very own tyrant, to enforce our own regime change.
But wait a minute. I don't mean to be simplistic, but why does Bush get any credit whatsoever? He hasn't lost enough credibility for not capturing "Osama", so the points for nabbing Saddam seem rather out of proportion. I know as leader of this country he is the one who instigated these wars, the champion of bombing the brown guys, but I just can't give him credit. I can only applaud the Americans over there, the ones dodging bullets and grenades and suicide bombings, and particularly the ones who were unable to dodge. I have great trouble with the concept of "proud to be an American", but I do hope that the people involved with Saddam's capture at least feel accomplished at doing what they set out to do. I've heard stories about our soldiers who are filled with doubt, but who are determined to get the job done. I hope this brings them one step closer to home. I also dearly, dearly hope that this capture can result in less civilian Iraqi deaths as well.
This means that we, the decideds, must be activists when it comes to this bullshit. I don't know what that means, exactly, but it has become that much harder to oust our very own tyrant, to enforce our own regime change.
But wait a minute. I don't mean to be simplistic, but why does Bush get any credit whatsoever? He hasn't lost enough credibility for not capturing "Osama", so the points for nabbing Saddam seem rather out of proportion. I know as leader of this country he is the one who instigated these wars, the champion of bombing the brown guys, but I just can't give him credit. I can only applaud the Americans over there, the ones dodging bullets and grenades and suicide bombings, and particularly the ones who were unable to dodge. I have great trouble with the concept of "proud to be an American", but I do hope that the people involved with Saddam's capture at least feel accomplished at doing what they set out to do. I've heard stories about our soldiers who are filled with doubt, but who are determined to get the job done. I hope this brings them one step closer to home. I also dearly, dearly hope that this capture can result in less civilian Iraqi deaths as well.