Location: St. Vincent & Grenadines

You were driving home in the dark on one glass-slippered heel, window sliced open and bathing in the snowliquor of the night air. We heard you singing, and couldn't bear to wake you.

04 February 2007

Instead of nothing to say, I have three things to say.

1. Marla went to the grocery store today and came back with groceries, including, among other things, a surprise for me. It was a bar of pear-flavored dark chocolate. The paper box it comes in bears the legend Intense Pear. When I came home from the city tonight and went up to my aerie to watch a movie, I switched on a light and saw the box, and thought it said Intense Fear.

I'm still going to eat it, though.

2. I watch a lot of movies, and not all of them are good ones. Most of them are pretty good, some are awful, and a few are transcendent. One of the things I love most in life is the feeling I get when I sit down to watch something I know nothing about, or think I know something about but actually don't, and find myself surprised by what I'm seeing. And as I keep watching, the surprise keeps blossoming until it hits the sweet spot and I know I'm watching something I really love. A couple of years ago it was Me and You and Everyone We Know, which I don't think anyone else dug quite as much as I did. Tonight's movie was Junebug, which I had heard was good; I read the blurb on the back of the box and it told me nothing; I steeled myself for another ho-hum independent-movie blah-blah; I found myself a little bit surprised, then a lot surprised, then bushwhacked and moved and nearly crying and most of all happy. Don't ask any questions or do any research, and don't pay any attention to anything I've said so far; don't have expectations. Just see it.

3. Genevieve is getting more creative and more ornery and more impossibly beautiful all the time. She has entered a phase in which, periodically and for no apparent reason, she will put her arm over her eyes when I enter the room so she can't see me, tell me to go away, and say that she doesn't like me. (Ggkk! That's my heart you just ripped out of my chest and stomped on!) And then two seconds later, or less, she'll be kissing me goodnight and telling me that she hopes I dream that I'm a kite flying up into the clouds with a kitten on my back. Can a soul get whiplash? Answer: Yes. Do I comprehend that her emotional states flow through her like a winter river and that it's useless to get attached to any of them and that ultimately she understands and mirrors my deep love for her? Totally. It's remarkable what you can know and not feel.

OK, that's three things. Here's another: Blogger is revamping the parameters of the templates that no-charge websites like this one follow, and I'm not at all fond of the changes. It's simpler, and more "user-friendly", if a user is defined as someone who doesn't understand basic HTML, but I find it unnecessarily restrictive. For example, I no longer have the option to create a title for individual posts. The new template they're urging me to adopt also doesn't allow for things like the "Baby Pictures" image in the sidebar that links to a separate post when visitors click on it. It's kinda dumb and I don't get why they set it up that way. End bitch session.

Um, here's another thing. (I guess this is a Douglas Adams-style trilogy.) January is a bastard month and I'm glad it's over. I got the norovirus or something a lot like it, missed work for ten days or so, ended up in the hospital on a morphine drip to keep me from screaming about the phantom stiletto in my stomach, and, when I finally got back to school, re-entered a state of overwhelming depression I thought I'd finally shaken. Yes, I will let go of January. Any takers? Anyone? Tell you what, I'm just going to set it down here and walk away. Take your time.


Blogger Zettai-chan said...

I bet we dug Me and You and Everyone We Know quite as much as you did. We've been big fans of Miranda July's performance art and spoken word recordings for a long time, and her first film did not disappoint.

I hope you're feeling better. Norovirus sounds nasty.

12:16 PM  
Anonymous Frederika said...

I was also a big fan of Me You and Everyone Else We Know. I just wondered, was everything in it true? All the interesting stories about writing on yourself and your cells reacting? Do you know? Probably not.

You and everyone else we know has gotten the norovirus, even though it's supposedly a cruise ship virus, and not many cruise ships land on the shores of Lake Michigan this time of year - especially when it's fifteen below zero Ferenheit at the moment!

But, alas, don't despair. I mean, I don't have a good reason not to despair. Just don't.

I hope you dream that you are hanging onto a kite with a kitten on your back, someplace warm and sunny.

7:12 PM  

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