How is it ’bout to be 2007?
I had to sign a form today, for repayment of an emergency loan I had to take out (ah, humility), and the date of repayment said 2007. I had to stop for a second when I wrote that down, like I knew it was correct and made perfect sense, but my brain kind of rejected it, instinctly, as it’s the first time I had actually written it down with a pen, with an intent to participate in anything Actually Happening in ‘07. Time moves so quickly. So f’ing quickly.
School is winding to a close for the term. Winding might be a poor choice of words, actually. Rapidly spiraling, in a very haphazard, hard-angled kinda fashion to this elusive Due Date for everything we’ve done all term long…that would be more accurate. Even though it’s crazy, now that I’ve been through two years, it’s starting to just feel Normal. I’m still stressed but it’s not the same crazy feeling I normally get, round about this time. There is a general internal acknowledgement that I have a Shit Load of work to do in the next ten days, but I’m not really sweating it. Maybe it’s all the sex I’m having that’s keeping me so calm. Who knows? Whatever it is, it’s nice to not feel like a lunatic right now. Maybe it’s denial. That would be very bad. But I feel on top of things, so I guess the Zen I’ve been looking for, for so many years (as the child of hippie parents) has finally started to seep in to daily living. Maybe it’s because the college accreditation board told NCSA that the scenic department could no longer graduate with 68 more credit hours than everyone else in the UNC system. I guess they didn’t cotton to undergrads graduating with enough credit hours to have earned a masters, too, with some credit hours in change left over. Point being, I have more time this year than last year. Could be that’s what being an upperclassmen here is all about; more free time to focus on the skill of your craft and less time spent doing volumes of slightly-busy work, just to learn the fundamentals. Any way I spin it, it’s good for me. Things feel more balanced.
Things are going so well with OBE that I’m starting to have that Bottom Drops Out feeling. That’s so pessimistic of me, I know. But it just keeps getting better everyday. I guess when I’m used to emotionally unavailable mostly-straight crazies, anything else makes me feel like it’s my birthday, every day. She’s just so great…so f’ing talented (talent is HOT), this undercover genius that is so humble it’s almost frustrating, and man! does she make me laugh. We spend alot of time together (too much, Maybe) and it just never gets boring or claustrophobic. We’ve been working together on her show for the past week and a half, and we’re such a Great Team, it amazes me. So fast and efficient and precise…I hesitate to commit this to words on the internet, but she’s the F’ing Girl Of My Dreams. An ubertalented designer/painter that ultimately wants to end up sailing the high seas, from job to job, on a boat she lives on…what? That’s MY dream. I just keep thinking to myself, I’ve never thought a relationship could Work before; even when I was in madly in love with Bonny, and later, Dark Roast, I always knew it would never work out in the end, I always knew. I knew from the onset that we didn’t have what it took to sustain for any real amount of time, there wasn’t enough common ground to keep us interested and happy. This feels different. This feels right. This feels (mostly) easy and comfortable and exciting and fun. This feels like the most solid start to any relationship I’ve ever had.
Speaking of Dark Roast, she called me FIFTEEN times today. Didn’t leave a message, not the once. OK, so I don’t exactly know for sure that it was her. I do know that someone called me fifteen times during crew from an unknown number (that’s one of her old tricks to get me to pick up the phone when I didn’t want to talk to her) and then one call from her, half hour later. I was getting a call every three to five minutes for about an hour. I didn’t hear any of them, luckily, or I would have bugged out. I was too busy WORKING, psycho! It’s funny…she totally closed off to me, shut down, drove me away, and once I was good and gone, over and done with it all, she starts calling again. I don’t have anything to say to her, that’s the reality of the situation. She made me feel guilty for loving her, like I was doing us both a disservice, and the second I started seeing someone else, she told me she loved me, too. I was foolish enough to fall for it once. Never again. I don’t know what she wants from me, and frankly, I don’t want to, but it feels unnecessarily cruel to me to verbalize that. I prefer to avoid the conversation completely. I don’t understand why she isn’t catching on to that very fact. You’d think that never returning a phone call once in eight months might clue somebody in…
Is it true? Is the only thing I find worthwhile to write about, women? Some days, I want to rush right out and get that old timey sailor tattoo, Man’s Ruin (except I’d change it to Woman’s Ruin, or My Ruin, or maybe just Ruination). You know the one…there’s a woman in a martini glass, and cigarettes, dice and money are somehow artfully framing the picture. If I added a jar of analine dye into the equation, I’d probably have a fairly accurate portrayal of The Things That Will Drive Me Into An Early Grave. I don’t guess the dust of floral foam would read well in a tattoo. Pity, because that’s what took a year off my life, today.
