8:15 p.m. - 2004-07-12
back from my soujourn, life still sucks
I was so very optimistic...
This weekend was exactly what I needed. Escape from my feelings of urban discontent and lonelieness. Yay! God bless my sweet E-Liz, for saving my troubled soul from swallowing itself.
Though I had hoped to track down Jorie, a boy who I certainly meant to have crazy rolls in the hay with but only played at heavy petting with (pardon my virginal prudeness of two years ago!), but it was a mission doomed from the start. Since he was unlisted and I couldn't remember what restaurant he was working at. Which wouldn't have made much of a difference, prolly, since I last heard from him a year and a half ago.
But it was better not to be distracted by lust (is it possible to escape? nyet!) because it afforded me the ability to spend all the hours of my time in B-Ham to E-Liz. Who remains one of the sweetest, brightest and wittiest girls ever to cross my path. Ever!
We drank wine, watched movies, talked, ate out constantly (as we are want to do), took in the marine beauty of her cute little town...it was just what I needed. As I have already said. Redundancy being a sign of...redundancy. Surely.
We watched Frida last night, which brought me waaaaaaaaaay back to two years ago. I saw Frida Kahlo being shown with Georgia O'Keefe and another radically female painter(ette). I had lost my virginity, maybe the day before. I was still reeling, clearly. But I was struck like something stricken by her work. I loved how personal it was, but how much it was still open to the viewer. I have rarely seen an artist (nor, I suspect, has anyone else) who was so vivid and rich, even at the depths of her despair. Duality. Love it. And I loved the movie like mad! I can't believe that the film received such lukewarm reviews! Yegods, people. Let yourself like a fucking movie. Taymor, while very pretentious in the extras, knows her shit. And rather than the film being the disgrace to so exciting a life (as the reviews tricked me into thinking it would be), it was a perfect parallel to Frida's work. E-Liz and I squirmed with delight throughout the entire thing.
She was so vibrant and resilient...it made me make an informal vow to myself, to stop being so fucking sullen all the time. It's an atrocity to not celebrate how beautiful this life is (or can be). It displeases our wacky-humored lord. I wanted to celebrate every day, to be happy just to be who I am.
But today, after little sleep and long driving and a typically non-triumphant day at the office...I found myself disheartened once more. I lack the duende of Frida, even in the wake of being so thrilled by it.
I hate that I am so moody of late, that even the shift of the stinky, suburban wind can sour the shit out of my mood.
I'm probably just raw from being plunged back into the icy 'blech' of being solitary and unpaid.
But my ebay money did finally appear in my bank. I have been rubbing my greasy, poor hands all over it, in the hopes of massaging my own boring depression. It didn't work. But I bought two great new CDs (Jesse Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter and The Killers) and had some delicious polenta.
As I already knew, it was not enough. But it helped.
