who dat? contest.
left column plotting comeback...
For the last two months I've been pretty unhinged, and it's only getting worse. I mean, I enjoy drama and complications and things that make you fucking feel something as much as the next cat, but this is getting to be ri-goddamn-diculous.
This last couple weeks in particular = very strange. Bad strange, plus some good strange.
This weekend = I'm ready for this to stop.
This weekend was full of very nice moments - moments I would like to relive. And then there are things I wish I could make go away.
For instance, as a result of... I don't know exactly what, I turned on a friend's girlfriend in a rather mean and unfair way. I'm not sure why. It was during a conversation about movies and she said something that I find pretty fucking stupid. (Basically she gave an opinion on something without having seen it.) And I told her so. And she argued. And that's all I needed... I was off. I don't know why I kept going, why I HAD to prove her wrong, make her see the errors of her ways, but she would not. That was her mistake. But really it was mine. I always hate myself later when I get like that. Later. I really do.
And I should have taken that as a sign to end the evening there...
I was planning on going out with friends on Friday night, but it began raining. And then fierce thunder and lightning began. And then The World's Fucking Craziest Police Tapes started and I couldn't leave. Then the Independent Film Channel destroyed my plans fully by putting on Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, which I had not seen. Finally though I did get around to reading a play I'd just bought, called Closer. Closer was on Broadway last year (might be still playing) and it's quite a good play about relationships. Male / Female relationships. Love. Sex. All the good stuff. All the hard stuff. All the stuff that ends you up sitting at home on an extremely cold, sad Sunday night writing a fucking journal entry.
The play is about 2 couples and their intermingling love lives. The two women speak and one says to the other, about men:
We say, 'Where's your baggage?' They deny all knowledge of it... 'They're in love'... they have none.
Then... just are you're relaxing... a Great Big Juggernaut arrives... with their baggage.
It Got Held Up.
One of the greatest myths men have about women is that we overpack."
Nice, huh? But, as someone pointed out to me, who are these women who believe the men? Believe the men when they say "I have none. I'm cool."
I act cool. I even probably am cool. But I would never lull people into a false sense of security by denying that there are contradictions and weaknesses and major chinks in the armor. Some of it makes me more lovable, yes, but some doesn't. Some makes you angry, or sad, or might even make you tell me: you should probably be leaving.
Today I went to my friend's new house. He just bought it with his girlfriend. They bought it. Together. I watched them unpacking boxes. They look quite happy together.
But as he and I drove around and talked, I realized the true, wonderful purpose of good friends: to have someone really sympathize with you. To have someone NOT say, "Yeah, but you can see the other side, right?" Or to challenge you. Or to chastise you "for your own good". No. It's to have someone say, "Hey. That really sucks. No no no no no. Shut up, dude. Who cares if you see the other side? You worry about your side. And your side is fucked. That was unfair. That was wrong. That was not cool."
Friends. Go make yourself some. They're good.
And yet I don't feel particularly better. Just... I don't know... more assured in my unhappiness.
But then again, I do see the other side...
Corky is waiting in line outside of SkyBar... fucking bouncer.
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