"You look like you just got diagnosed with cancer of the puppy." Xander-Buffy the Vampire Slayer

More Musings on Buffy, the Nature of Heroism, and Anya's Death

Well now I'm pissed. yesterday I tried to do a post about Buffy and now I can't find the damn quote at WHEDONesque. Basically what it said was the Buffy is all about how being a hero is basically a choice. we all have this heroism dormant within us, but we need to make the conscious choice, the decision to pursue those impulses. What seperates heroes from the rest of the human race are not special skills or super human strength, but simply that heroes make the decision to access that part of themselves on the behalf of others, it is a conscious sacrifice without the expectation of repayment.

I have added Whedonesque to the links there on the side so that if any of you wish to join me in my Buffy worship, you can. Personally I think there is a lot to discuss about Buffy, for example one of todays reruns on FX was Pangs, an episode in which the spirit of the Shumash Indians is resurrected and attacks Buffy and the Scoobies, during her first independent Thanksgiving. What the episode really addresses is a lot of issues about the guilt of white america about exploiting and subjugating Native Americans (The tension between Willow, in the camp of the sympathizer, and Giles, in the camp of "Kill or be killed"). Spike is the representative realist who simply claims, listen this is the way dominant societies work, deal with it. But the more important part of the show is that it reveals that most of these happy white washed holidays that we have are based on violence. (Christmas was originally a pagan rite as was Easter and Valentine's Day.)

But there are times when I just want to cry to the heavens, "WHY DID THEY HAVE TO KILL ANYA?" There are friends of mine who actually maintain that Xander won't get over it. OK, Xander barely takes two seconds to look for Anya. (He didn't see her and she was lying right there RIGHT THERE!) The when informed of her death, he summons the oh so touching "That's my girl" before he launches into a joke about starbucks. Not a tear, not a touching speech, not even a moment of proper reflective silence. And now he's going to be on a whole bus of Buffy wannabes who will, I'm sure, be more than happy to soothe him in his loss of his eye and his beloved (whom he left at the altar, but continued to sleep with) in anyway possible (think of Dawn the first season). Oh yeah, he'll be over it by the time they fasten their seat belts.

The Story of My Life Essay Contest

There is an essay contest for Glamour magazine, an essay contest on the story of one's life. It's one of those things that should be easy, but isn't. So I will be using bunniblog as a testing ground for rough drafts. The deadline is July 1st, so you guys have to keep me honest and make sure I work on it. Really. I also have to finish Lysistrata. I will. I will finish Lysistrata.

The medication I'm on has sapped my will to continue writing. I was going to write deep and profound things, but no instead I sleepy.

I have this fantasy about when some guy does something that pisses me off, like NOT CALLING (sensing a trend here) as Blogger Jin can testify men just vanish on my ass. I don't know what it is about me, but there is definately a pattern here where men just up and poof! I don't know if they are emigrating to avoid me or what. But I have this fantasy where I see said guy and the following exchange ensues.

(Kay in totally gratuitious and stereotypic "how dare you not call" dialogue which does not need to be written here)

Guy Who Never Calls #213: So what are you going to do about it?

(D. comes walking out swinning a heavy chain, Blogger Jin emerges on all fours snarling and drooling like a rabid dog, the Assless Wonder comes out with a bat.)

Kay: Oh its not what I'm going to do, it's what they're going to do.

(Kay turns to leave. GWNC #213 starts to shake and back away as the trio advances.)

GWNC #213: Who are these guys?

(Kay stops.)

Kay: How rude for me not to introduce you. Guy meet Jin. Jin beat Guy.

(Jin springs on GWNC #213 as Kay walks off without a look back.)

"I don't want to kill you, and you don't want to be dead." Danny Glover in Silverado

Why is that I can't live like other people? Why do I have such a hard time doing things like going to the grocery store or buying light bulbs? Why does it take me three weeks to do things that most people do in twenty minutes? Why am I petrified, mind you, petrified of getting my mail? Why? I can remember when I could actually teach at my kitchen table, tutor people there and serve tea, now its buried under papers and uselessness. When I was with Eric I was so much more functional. And that Kay, that self has to be in here somewhere, why can't I find her?

For the last two weeks I've gone on something ridiculous like seven dates with something like four different guys (some men didn't even qualify for a first date), and I feel lonely and awful. And its not like there is a shortage of men who don't want to seriously date me. Take this email for example from a guy after just one date with me:

You have a beautiful smile and I'm sure no one would've noticed if you're eyes were bugging out from back of the cranium - though that would've been freaky. I'm not surprised you're seeing someone and I appreciate the honesty. Always looking to widen my circle of friends, I'd love to get to know you better; so whenever my commute from hell (actually, cycling to & from New Brunswick & Somerset in Jersey then to & from Penn to home) gets me in at decent time, I'll call.

Summer re-runs are horror in themselves (yes - i'm full of cliches), but I hear Rob Zombie's "House of 1000 Corpses" is frighteningly ghoulish.

btw, is Plato's Symposium your summer reading? I was in a limbo on what to read - flipping couple of pages here and there then shelving it [even through my physics book - duh - still don't get it] - until this. Reading the intro on an online version grabbed my interest and I think I'm saved - thanks.

A nice email, a great email, smart, flattering, but not simpering, but not an attractive guy and in person the conversation was basically ho-hum. Is it me? Am I not that attractive that the really hot guys just want me for a ride and maybe some stimulating conversation? No it can't be that because I see far less attractive, but more "normal" looking girls getting hit on all the time. Are my standards to high? Is it wrong of me to want an attractive guy who is also intelligent? I'm not looking for Einstein Pitt here, but is it impossible for me to ever hope of snaring both?

And you know what the worst thing is? If Eric had never happened I would have a boyfriend by now. I mean I went out with Scott for two years and all I did was cater to his needs and he never even told me he loved me. TWO YEARS. I commuted to upstate new york just to see him every fucking weekend for two years and not a single I love you. Ok I was going to break up with Scott anyway because he was becoming a mysogynistic racist, but if it wasn't for eric I would be able to settle. But I remember what it was like with him. From that first moment on there was just the perfect bliss.

There is supposed an ancient Greek saying that those beloved by the Gods are damned. The reasoning goes this way. There are only a couple of ways that an affair between a mortal and a God can work itself out.

1. Most of the Gods had very jealous Goddesses for wives. For a few moments bliss you might find yourself transform into a fern or a burrow. The upside here is that in your new form you won't be able to fully understand the horror of your situation.

2. Say the wife of your particular God isn't that possessive. How long do you think a mortal can hold the attention of someone divine? Just about long enough to have a cigarette after. Then you get to spend the rest of your life knowing the perfect bliss you can never have again. Do you think you could ever have a man touch after you have touched by divinity? Do you think you contain you revulsion long enough not puke on him because ofhis humanity? And you know he doesn't even remember you. Doesn't even miss you, as you grow old thinking of your brief moment of happiness.

3. In some rare cases the Gods did occassionally fall in love with humans. Dionysius held his mortal wife as she lay dying in his arms. But even in this case, the end is grim. The Greeks didn't believe that the afterlife was pleasant. They believed that it was simply grey fluttering monotony, not even a job to keep one distracted. Just aimless wandering. So you get eternity to again contemplate the celestial bliss you will never know again. If your lucky, you God will commemorate you with a constellation, not that you'll ever know it-the dead don't see stars.

Can you tell how depressed I am? Please shout out. The guy I really like called monday and I called him back and he hasn't called since then. Please let him call. That's all I want ONE DATE this weekend. And if I can't get a date, I can at least get ONE COMMENT PLEASE.

Can you tell how depressed I am by Eric's lack of noticing my existence. The graduation really depressed me. I don't know what I was expecting, but something. An email, a postcard, a phone call. Something. Anything. Any kind of acknowledgement that I exist in some form would be appreciated.

In the words of the film Trick "Am I bitter? Absolutely."

Buffy-The Show That Was Not Supposed to Die
A Eulogy

"You know I could ride you at a gallop until you pop like warm champagne and you beg me to hurt you just a little but more. And do you know why I don't? Because it's wrong."
Buffy (actually Faith posessing Buffy)

And now I think we need to take a moment away from Bunni and her dating exploits to talk about one of the few shows that has kept me sane for the last two years. Buffy started in 1997, which is the same year I graduated from NYU. I didn't have a tv at the time, and if I did, I wouldn't have bothered to watch Buffy. Then IT happened and I bought a tv, and I found that Buffy was one of the few shows I could stand, probably because all of the relationships were so tortured. And slowly Buffy became a staple of my tv viewing. I would watch reruns in the mornings of FX before going to class. And here is the wierd thing, watching Buffy kick the ass of all those beasties right before going to teach made me feel better.

"I love you and not because I can't have you and not because I want you."

Growing up we only had one tv in the house. We didn't get cable until I was almost in high school. Although there were shows that I liked: "the Dukes of Hazard", "Simon and Simon", "Magnum P.I.", "MASH", "Barney Miller", and "Soap" (Billy Crystal's "big break" as a suicidal homosexual). Although I watched these shows, sometimes religiously, I was not really emotionally invested in the characters or the outcome. I enjoyed watching, but I wasn't involved.

"You know that face I showed you,Scully? I'm making it right now."
Mulder- The X Files

There were later shows in high school that I cared about notably "the X Files" and "Twin Peaks" (I ask myself at moments like this why I spend so much time researching links that no one will follow?) Twin Peaks lost a lot of viewers after Laura Palmer's killer was revealed. But with that show I got a taste of what happened tonight. The last season started to slip and then suddenly the last month it became fantastic again. And then at the absolute height of suspense (Agent Cooper becomes possessed by Bob) the SHOW ENDED!!!! And the film "Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me" (Oh look it up on IMDB, you lazies) was a prequel. And thus what the hell happened (and I would still like to know because it is intriguing as all hell) was never revealed.

"If Buffy can read my thoughts, and my thoughts are my being then Buffy holds all that I am, and Buffy becomes me." Oz

"The X Files" had a slower dissolution. It became like a bad relationship. You watched because you felt you should, even though you didn't like it anymore and half the time you were reading or making faces at the screen. maybe you watched just to bitch about it with your friends, how dissappointed you are about how things ended up after such a promising start, such a sustained passion. But then it crosses the line (jumps the shark) and you realizes that you just don't have it in you to forgive anymore. You have been giving and nurturing long enough. It is time to move on. That's what happened for me on the X-Files. I gave up on that show about the time the movie came out. I saw the movie and pretty much stopped watching. So for me the "X-Files" went from a show I was really invested in, to a show I didn't even talk about or follow over a long period of time (the X-Files started when I was in high school and ended when I was in grad school. How is that for a long run?) Don't get me wrong, I watch the reruns sometimes on TNT and SCI-FI, but the old fire, the suspense, the involvement isn't there. Now its just about figuring out what season it is from Scully's hair.

"What's a girl to do when her dead ex-boyfriend asks her to the senior prom?"
Toffee Giles in Zombie Prom

With Buffy, there was really an emotional investment that I made here. The show really worked for me like none other. (Other fans seem to also like Dawson's Creek and Felicity two shows I can't, and never could, stand.) What I liked about Buffy is that there was a lot of symbolic content there for us archetypal psychologists (Joseph Campbell The Hero With A Thousand Faces a must read for Star Wars and Matrix fans). For example, this final episode here, you have Spike becoming the living embodiment of the "apotheosis" (one with G-d) in terms of channeling the sun. And you also have Buffy re-enacting the final stage of the hero's journey (3 stages of hero journey 1. road of trials 2.apotheosis 3. the return). The final stage of the hero's journey is where the hero integrates what he (or she) has learned back into society thus changing and improving society. (Think Jesus.) So Buffy "returns" by allowing all the potential slayers to have their power now (don't get me wrong-I thought it was lame-a little too happy happy joy joy female empowerment even for me). The hero's journey is complete. (What I would have given for for Oz, Parker, Riley and headed by Angel to become a boy brigade!)

"Because if the world isn't going to end tomorrow, I'm going to need a note."

But, and here is another point I would like to make, the lure of Buffy (and the rest of the "Scoobies" as Xander dubbed them) is that they all represent human drives, making them easy to identify with. Oz-two natures, human and bestial in one body. Giles-the stodgy parental-super-ego. Willow-the untapped power that lies dormant within. The episodes portray normal situations, but are then given a hyperbolic and symbolic cast. You have the episode where Xander is seduced by his substitute science teacher who is really a giant praying mantis. The mantis is simply a symbolic form of how we view child molesters (she preyed on young male virgins). There is the episode where Willow falls for "techno demon" again about how easily we can be seduced through the internet, how desperate we are for love, and how that desperation can be perverted. There is the epside where Xander becomes divided in two (who doesn't feel that there are two or more selves within?) Or the prents turning teenagers, a re-action to mid-life crises. Then there are episodes that are more concrete in their identification like when Oz leaves to protect Willow or when Xander leaves because he is not ready to commit. Clearly these events (particularly being left at the alter) can be easily identified with dirently.

"I am so much prettier than you." Principal Woods to Faith

Some events although are clearly enhanced and romanticized like (spoiler for those who missed the final episode) the death of Spike. Now poor James Marsters (who is NOT REALLY BRITISH-but his first acting role was as Eyeore in Winnie the Pooh! You can't beat the research team we have here at Bunniblog-one Jew, a keyboard, and A LOT OF FREE TIME) is out of work. And its not like he will ever get cast again. but back to the show. Here Spike dies, thus making the way for Buffy to go back to Angel without having to make a choice and therefore without incuring guilt (how nice). In addition, this is the nicest break-up of all time. Instead of getting dumped, her beau chooses to save the world by sacrificing himself. Don't we all have a few ex-boyfriends we wish would do that? Oh it's not that he isn't calling because he doesn't love you anymore, or you just can't be together, or that he doesn't have opposable thumbs, he isn't calling because he died for you, he died saving you. Now that's a good break up people. That's the only kind I'm interested in. And this allows Buffy to keep the romantic dream intact. In order for "the romantic illusions" to stay intact one of the parties must die or the story must end ergo "Happily Ever After" because romance does not survive reality.

"Thank you for the dada-ist pep-talk, I feel much more abstract now."Buffy to Xander

And so now I have to "break up" with the show. This show that I have come to depend on and look forward to is gone just when I found it. I almost cried a couple of time during the show. (How could they kill Anya? And they cut her in half without even a tender good bye from Xander. Notice how they kill the two good bad guys? That whole they must be punished for the sins of the past thing going on.But wasn't her abandonment at the alter punishment enough?) But I am saddened, truly, by the loss of this show. And this is something I have never really experienced before, the true power of television. I lived without a tv for seven years, and now, at this late date, I see the power it can have as a tool of epic storytelling. I mean when Ruth Fisher kissed that 25 year old Mortuary Assistant, Arthur, on Six Feet Under a few weeks ago my cat thought I was possessed (talk about a reversal of fortune). I was running around shrieking. And I thought it was great that tv still can have that power, to delight and surprise and entertain, truly entertain, not just cater to our basest desires in the form of humiliation and failure.

And you thought it was just to see a hot chick who could kick.

You be the judge-guy from "snatch" Immed me the following conversation-should I count this as yet another marriage proposal (he doesn't know about the other four) by the way I changed his screen name for his protection

mp: Let me ask you another quick question...
Miss Lapin: ok
Miss Lapin: yes?
mp: actually, I hadn't actually formulated the question when I said that... part of it's because I don't know, I really want to open up to you, but at the same time, I feel I should be cautious.. like Sunday, I can be totally assertive, but I'm so easy going at times, it may not come off that way.
Miss Lapin: where is the question here?
mp: The question is, should I be cautious? Should I worry that I might offend you, or push too far? I'm just trying to feel you out...
Miss Lapin: just ask already I'm not easily offended
mp: I don't even know if I should be expressing this to you, I'm just being honest about my feelings
Miss Lapin: the suspense is killing me here
mp: Well that's the question, I mean you look like a pretty laid back gal, hehe
Miss Lapin: I missed the question
mp: Argh I fucked up
mp: hehe
mp: Alright, here goes, straight forward
Miss Lapin: ok
Miss Lapin: and?
mp: Kay.. will you marry me?
mp: haaha that was the question.. see it was that easy
mp: I'm kidding I'm kidding..

Now see my friend Hunwalla doesn't think it should count because its a joke. Because the others were so serious? Even the drunken fireman who seemed to mean it never called. So I think it should count. I'm putting it down. But you can let me know if you think this is fair.

On the other side, what do you think of this guy? One date and this guy is asking if he can open up to me. Why is it that I give people the unpaid therapist vibe. I did after this exchange was over make it clear that I want to move VERY slowly. In fact I told him I am seeing other people, which I am, in fact at any given moment about half a dozen. And yet I still don't feel fulfilled or happy or even really wanted. Getting back to MP (I have to come up with a better name-I'm tempted to call him Orca, but that name is already taken by my aunt. Mobey Dick seems too complimentary-I could use his user name on snatch but again it's too complimentary- I could always just give him a number M.W.P.5-Man Who Proposed 5)

Alright I go read "Lysistrada."

"This is like a dream...not the naked contortionist on a glass table top kind of dream, but it's not bad." Duckman (showing every sunday at 2:30 am on comedy central)

Having had sex with two different men in one week is a strange thing. It makes me confused, not because one would ever be my boyfriend, I'm not torn between choices, but I am torn in terms of judging behavior. We have D who is so tender and passionate. When he comes to watch movies and other things, he wants me to lie on top of him while we watch and he strokes my hair and kisses my forehead, there is a tenderness there. As I said, there is a sense of protection, a sense of safety. Is it reflex? Is it just the way he is, and he would stroke any woman that way? Even the Beast (who hasn't even emailed in two months) was capable of tenderness in the physical sense, although he was, apparently, incapable of calling me to let me know either way if I was ever going to see him again. This from the man who said "I care for you, so in a way I'll never leave you." My internal response to that comment was "That's great, very touching, but um, I'm a little more concerned about your corporeal form leaving me, if you catch my drift." So now what to make of men who just aren't that way. These men who stroke my hair and kiss my forehead vanish for weeks, so should the absence of this physical tenderness mean something? Is it merely a physical trick that can be learned? Is it nothing more than habit? Or is it something more? Are these men able to articulate something physically that others can't?

This is the legacy of Eric, to destroy my judgement, to make it impossible for me to be able to tell if a person has real feelings for me or not. I know that D. and I have passion and that we are both disgruntled artists. He said once he couldn't be what I want. I thought once that he meant that he couldn't be Eric. I see what he means now is that he simply unstable by nature. Having been hurt and abandoned so many times he prefers to stay out of my reach, to give himself to women who can not hurt him, can not control him. Part of the reason he keeps his distance is the same reason why I should keep mine. A candle is a lovely little fire, but a forest fire is destructive. All it takes is to tip over the candle. D and I if we ever got together it would be the forest fire. or at least this is what I tell myself to keep myself happy. But I will always love D. Always. And it will always be a fight to stay away from him.

OK OK where was I? I think I was up to the drunken yuppie torture on thursday night. Unfortunately drunken yuppie torture is becoming a hobby. Well I suppose there are worse tortures to come by. But here is the thing. It happened thursday, and now I'm bored with the idea of recounting it except to say that there is only temporary pleasure in totally crushing a person who thinks he is superior. I mean this guy walks up to me and says "You're not tall" and I was like "Well thank you captain obvious I don't think I would figure that out without . Although it would account for my inability to reach things on the top shelf." And he keeps talking to me. And he starts off by telling me that he is very smart. So I was like "You know, it's been my experience that smart people rarely advertise that they are smart." So then he wants to prove it to me by answering trivia. So I kicked his ass all over the bar and he admits "You are a smart girl. You are even smarter than I am." He then proceeds to ask me to go with him to Iceland for the summer solsitice (or as he put it "There is a day of the year during the summer that is like the longest day.") Before I can say no he tells me he was debating between Alaska and Iceland for the solsitice, but then settled on Iceland. Then he is telling me that he is an alcholic. Well there's incentive for a girl. Then one of his friends was hitting on me (he was cute too-a little drunken yuppie totally harmless and fun to play with) and he got all upset and was threatening to beat him up. I was like "Hey, hey, hey, let's not get excited because I'm not going out with either of you." But he wouldn't be dissuaded until little drunken yuppie left the bar, which he did (which was good because little drunken yuppie had so much to drink he didn't recognize me today when I walked by him). I should say the drunken yuppie I was talking to looked like Oliver Platt. So after two hours of totally trouncing this guy's ego (at one point he actually said "I think I should be insulted" and I said "I think you should too" yet he then immediately kept talking to me. He wanted to me to give him my phone number. I didn't so there goes an all expenses paid trip to Iceland with a drunken Oliver Platt look-a-like. And I still have to recount Sunday.

So I raise my little body on Sunday morning to go on a date. The guy I went on a date with just sent me an email about dating a blogger (in the new york times, which I refuse to link to because it required registration which just annoys me, but you can go there on your own)-It, of course, contains mainly tales people getting fired and fall outs with their family over the blogs, but this is because these people are stupid enough to blog under their own names thinking "Oh no one will notice." Well, there are people who know who I am who read the blog, and I have unfortunately let loose what university I work for, but i have been vague enough that anyone stumbling on the site wouldn't be able to figure out even what department I work for and this is done intentionally. Chortle chortle. And dating a blogger is wierd for the blogger too in that I have dated one man who won't let me write about him EVEN UNDER AN ALIAS and another man who was insulted I hadn't mentioned him. (Although when I did mention him, I don't think he was thrilled with what I said.)

Back to the date. Well let me just say that I am a member of a certain online dating service (rhymes with snatch). Anyway this is the sample of the type of guy I am getting emails from:
Hello there, I happened to catch your profile and wanted to get to know

I am *******, 30, a medical student from ********. I am single,
looking, and interested in a fun, intelligent, caring, honest, loving lady.

I like reading, movies, theatre, and volleyball among other things.

I will include my profile so you can see more about me. If you'd like
to get to know me, please write back and we can talk. :O) I hope I
will hear from you.

Ok is that the most generic thing you have ever seen? But this is the type of email I've been getting courtesy of "snatch" (which is what we shall call it). So I went on a date this sunday not with the guy who the above email, but a different one (basically a similar mo). I would like to say this when did "a couple of extra pounds" turn into code for fifty or sixty pounds over weight? I mean, not that I was entirely honest on my profile. I mean I did say I was four inches taller than I really am (or in other worse I said I was the height I am if I am standing on the back of a large turtle while wearing platforms) This is all a snarky way of saying I show up and he is physically a disappointment. I'm just not physically sttracted to him.

And here is another point I would like to talk about. I feel enormously guilty when I am not attracted to peopple because here I ask other people to see beyond my physical form and yet I can't do it with him. NOT THAT I HAVEN'T TRIED. I was trying to explain this to blogger Jin today. Last year I went out with a guy, let's call him Speed Freak, because he admittedly was (I have talked about him before) anyway back when I didn't know he was a speed freak and thought he was simply up beat Speed Freak was cool, but not physically attractive, but I tried to date him anyway. I hoped that the more I knew him, the better he would look. And to Speed Freak's tribute he had many good boyfriend qualities, he cooked for me, he bought expensive presents for valentine's day, he took care of me when I didn't feel well. But here is the rub, he was also mad for my body, and this was troublesome for me because I felt like a 1950's housewife I would just close my eyes and wait for it to over. And I think we all know by now that just isn't normal bunni style. But as I told Jin today, if there is any hope for a relationship, I'll hold on. But when there is no hope, and even I have to say "there is absolutely no way this is ever going to work, even in a slightly altered parrellel dimension this would still be a mess" I'll still hang one or two weeks, but eventually I had to leave Speed Freak (mainly because he was a major drug user as well as his cure for depression was to tell me "Well just don't think depressing thoughts" Oh how I love Californians.)

So the not being physically atttractive is one problem. The other problem is that I like a challenge and this guy is just too easy. I could have him eating out of my hand inside the week I could make him cry in a few minutes. There is something perversely satisfying in making a man cry. But I digress. He commited a couple major faux pas and I shall post them here in the continuation of the Dating Wisdom of Bunni.

- Do not ask about past dating relationships on a first date and do not volunteer information about past relationships on a first date This is information that should be divulged later (think third or fourth date) if the process continues.

First dates are merely auditions for second dates Real decision making doesn't come later. Generally for me the third date is the crucial one for "making or breaking" through to me. So the first date is simply seeing if you can get along with this person for more than fifteen minutes. Plan something finite but that can be expanded if you really like the person. Also put a cap on the time line. Seven hours (my first date on sunday) is way too long, four hours is a max and I would say at the min. is about an hour. Since first dates are auditions DO NOT GO TO THE MOVIES. I've had people argue with me and then come back to me on that one. You want a situation where you can talk to the person, coffee is a good short first date. Dinner is more expensive, but you can also take them bowling or to a poetry slam or to paint pottery. The key is talk to the person.

So that's it so far. I don't want to blog anymore right now I'll go into more detail about sunday tomorrow.

Tomorrow Tomorrow I love ya tomorrow your only a day away.....(sing it with me people)

So I suppose I should finish my narrative of wednesday, thursday, and saturday and sunday. YIIIIEEEEE!

Ok so wednesday was pretty much done. I was bitter over grad alley, we have fun watching the Matrix, we have conversation about attractiveness and beer. I go home and crash. I get up early and haul myself into the office JUST IN TIME FOR GRADUATION to meet a student who then cancels. There has to be a word for the inverse of serendipity. I mean the opposite is being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but as far as I know there is no succinct way of saying it. And this was definately it. I had to be there just sitting and watching the graduation on a closed circuit tv waiting for this student who was never going to arrive, knowing his family was there, knowing he was there in cap and gown, knowing that this day came and went without a word to me, with out a look, with out an email, without a fucking postcard saying "As much of a dick as I was I just wanted to say thank you and let you know I appreciate what you did for me. PS Sorry I ruined your life. It wasn't your fault." Is that so much to ask people? After you give your life for two years, and even his mother, HIS MOTHER, tells you that he wouldn't be where is today without you, after all of that graduating with out a single word to me is a violation of nearly epic proportions. It is, as the comedian Dennis Wolfburg would say, akin to telling someone in the path of a tidal wave that might experience moisture . And you know what? He has the address of this weblog. And if he wants to defend himself, I dare him to do it. Hear that you little twit, I stamp my foot and shke my fist and DARE YOU TO VISIT YOUR WRATH UPON ME.

So there I was and saw them graduate, and I saw the whole ceremony, and yes I'm bitter, and yes I'm hoping he is terrified, and yes I hope he has a miserable life. Yes, yes, yes. In fact, once I actually contemplated what I would say if he asked me to fogive him and I came up with this:

"You know, at one time I thought it wasn't possible to forgive you, after what you did to me. but then I realized that anything is possible. You want me to forgive you, I'll tell you what to do. You live a very long life and be miserable every fucking minute of it. Every second of every day for the next forty years in the most unimaginable pain and relentless torture possible. And then when you finally die, alone, pathetic, miserable, hopefully face down in a puddle of your own urine, then I MIGHT forgive you....on the other hand I might have to piss on your grave first."

So there I am and his graduation had perfect weather, whereas mine was overcast. (symbolism anyone?) So then I had an evil meeting. And then I had ballroom and then I had to run to meet mom for drinks and to see a play called Life *3 which should have been better than it was. And that evening I ended up seeing a leather guy carrying a bunny, Steve Buscemi, and Stanley Tucci. And you know in the old days I would have taken that as a sign. I would have said this was fate, a symbol of the unvierse to me that everything has its random little place and don't worry just enjoy. But not anymore. He gets a beautiful graduation full of hope and light, and I have to settle of a guy with a bandana holding a bunny? Fuck off, no way.

So I get home. I'm exhausted. I'm tired. And I burst into tears. And I think to myself, this is no good. So I go to Fitzpatrick's where I am immediately beset by evil drunken yuppies. And that is a WHOLE NOTHER STORY, which I am too tired to get into here. And I realize I can't talk about saturday because "-" still won't let me talk about him in any way shape or form (which is interesting since he wants to use me in his documentary, but I digress), but it ok because when things go well there is so rarely something to say (wink) . So that leaves the rest of thursday and today. But again I get tired especially with the lack of shout out, you slackers.

Ok bad enough I have a bad week and then the total and utter lack of shout out here just does me in. C'mon people feed the ego, just a little bit. I'm talking about crumbs from the pocket.

Blogger Jin, not that I should listen to him because he is a SLACKER (blog hater my ass, Jin, you should freakin' talk), has suggested that I include the conversation that happened after Matrix 2 (which I will NOT include a link for because it was totally gratuitious on so many levels). We were all sitting in a diner and my other friend, the Assless Wonder as I call him, was talking about how drinking makes women go home with ugly guys. I commented that drinking makes me go home with stupid but attractive guys. Generally speaking, stupid but attractive won't get you the time of day with me. But when I drinking, well, as one of my friends is fond of saying beer is the great equalizer. But for me, I look at this way, its ok for me to take home someone who is atttractive but not bright and here is the rhetoric. If I'm just using someone, then smarts don't matter, looks do. Or put another way, if all you're interested in is the staircase, why bother to look at the attic? (Or in other words " There isn't much upstairs, but what a staircase!")

    This page is powered by 
Blogger. Isn't yours?