2004-08-25 - 2:03 p.m.
I Know It's Over
It’s all so sad. I have to get myself in a better frame of mind. Maybe I should take “I Know It’s Over” off of repeat.
“Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head…”
Edna is on her way to LA to attend the fifteenth birthday party (aboard the Queen Mary!) of one of her relatives. She told me about a guy in our neighborhood who has a crush on her and who is basically stalking her. He wrote a letter to her professing his love. She said it was weird and made it seem as if they were dating and broke up. She really seemed disturbed by it. I told her that in his mind they probably were dating and probably did break up. She (jokingly) said he would’ve had a chance if he had a job and didn’t have two kids and a drinking problem. She’s really creeped-out by the whole situation. I should have asked her if she wants me to give him a good talking to for her. What thirtysomething in his right mind writes a fucking love letter? It’s all so wonderfully seventh grade.
“…I know it’s over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real…”
I was thinking about marriage and children, and came to the realization that almost every married couple I know is unhappy. It’s great to see relationships at work or, in some cases, not at work. Although ultimately, it seems that’s what relationships are all about. There are so many interesting dichotomies. I love seeing Joey and Mrs. DLH together. There’s something there. It’s a beautiful thing. We went out Saturday night and he didn’t really leave her side.
Cher and Beau are also great together. The way she looks at him. She has a pet-name for him. They do mushy, snoggy things in public. (Something that I could never bring myself to do, by the way—snog in public, that is.) The thing about those couples is that they aren’t married.
So yeah, Ed tells me once children enter the picture, one’s life is over. “That’s why I’m doing all this traveling now. Because, once I have kids—that’s it.” What a great thing to look forward to…or not look forward to. Ed said she also inquired about maternity insurance on the shitty insurance plan she has. She will have to pay nearly one thousand dollars every two months, if she wants it. “Sorry pal, but now that you’re losing your job, I have to scratch you off my list. I need someone who has insurance,” she laughed.
Yeah, thanks for reminding me, once again, that I’m going to be an unemployed, uninsured loser. Bitch.
“…It’s so easy to laugh, it’s so easy to hate. It takes guts to be gentle and kind…”
Last night at Cher’s, I met Beau’s cousin who has lived in Alaska for the past four years. “Living in Alaska for the past four years has really changed me,” he said. “…Living in Alaska, you have A LOT of time to think about EVERYTHING…Now,” he said, “I live lighter. My mind is a lot lighter.” That’s one of the best things I’ve ever heard anyone say. Today I e-mailed my friend Liz, who lives in Anchorage, to tell her that.
“…The sea wants to take me, the knife wants to slit me, do you think you can help me?”
Living light is something that I definitely need. Friday night I got really drunk. I hate to admit it, but I can now see why people do it. It felt great! I wasn’t worried. I had no problems. No fears. Well, not really. (My biggest fear was when Max, who is 6’3”ish and nearly 200 pounds, tackled me and tried to put me in a sleeper hold.) Max said tourists watched him carry me and try to put me in a cab, then watched as I escaped the cab and tried to make a break for my bicycle. He then tackled me, and Cher threw grass in my face. This spectacle happened out in front of our place of employment. I ended up with scratches and a bruise on my arm, but no hangover. The next day Cher said I didn’t really do anything stupid, but Max left a voice message rebuking me and made me feel bad. Max needs to lighten up. Joey said no more tequila for me. He said I have to stick to beer. The thing about getting drunk is that it’s a crutch. A constant state of inebriation seems really messed up.
Saturday night I embarrassed Joey when I heckled some fucking lame-ass guy who got up on stage at this lame-ass bar and began to play awful Dave Matthews guitar patterns while singing insipid songs that I guess he assumed were clever and shocking. It was the stupidest fucking thing I’d ever heard—well, next to Dave Matthews. Cher and I shouted “Freebird!” and I shouted, “Play us one of your racist songs!” The guy seemed stunned and stumbled for a comeback. Guess he’s not as clever as he thought. I ended up storming out of the place after shouting, “YOU SUCK!”
I’m looking forward to this coming Saturday when, as designated driver, I will drive Joey, the Missus, and Effie to a party in Peotone. It sounds like fun. And since these are my final days at work, it’ll be nice to spend them with people who I like.
“…Love is Natural and Real, but not for you my love, not tonight my love…”
Stalked. Impoverished. Unemployed. Uninsured.
“…Love is Natural and Real, but not for such as you and I, my love.”
