"I refuse to look back," a friend of mine said after her break-up, doing her best to not fuck up like Lot's wife and turn into a pillar of salt. She'd spent copious amounts of time analyzing the man during their five-year misery of a relationship where he refused to do anything except sit around on Friday nights and watch videos of the X-Files while drinking what he referred to as a carbonated beverage also known to Texans as a Coke. Sometimes he'd be engaged in months long fantasy games where he was a secret character who could be discovered and killed, his character anyway, and he'd have to start over as someone else, a whole new set of rules and powers and restrictions or so I was told. I never really grasped that world which I assume has been usurped by video games and second lives, internet selves that serve as characters in an alternate universe. But I digress. Mr. X-Files didn't say a lot -- this brilliant strategy kept the people in his life guessing what he could really mean by the small cryptic things he did say. "I'm a vampire this month" carried a lot of weight." My friend and I would discuss -- does he mean a psychic one? Is it a game? Is it real or is it Memorex?
He ended things by moving away from his small, unabomber-like abode and wrote her a letter telling her in not very many words that it was over. This break-up provided no closure, that most undefinable of psychological constructs, the idea that we can know why things happened, that everything has been said that needed to be said. Of course, my friend cracked and spent a few additional months kicking around the ending, coming to no good conclusion about why she'd been so hooked and why it had ended. I never watched "The X-Files," never understood what they were looking for or what the appeal was of all that sexual tension between Mulder and Scully. I'd had my fill of that kind of thing watching "Who's the Boss?" as a child and waiting for Judith Light and Tony Danza to get it on. But I like to imagine their evenings in a dark, quiet room, not talking, and my friend imagining that the man she was with was also someone else, someone who would eventually die and be reborn as another character and that change might make all the difference.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live." Anais Nin
Cocktail Hour
Potion to bring in money: Lemongrass root
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday! Congratulations to Detroit for the brilliant fourth quarter save -- 34 points, a record! And thanks to all for the great thoughtful comments. As to my new friend, Totall, e-mail me your address, and I'll be glad to send you some books!
11 comments:
I always liked X-files despite it was forbidden to watch because I was like 11 when I watched it and it was an adult serials here but I am the "emperor" (take a look at my blog's link and you will understand) so no one could tell me what to do. I am doing whatever I want.
Your comment about sport was a bit surprising for me because I didn't expected anything like that from you.
Honestly I am a bit angry at Detroit because I am a Leafs fan and the Red Wings won 4-0 over Toronto.
Instead of being new characters each month, we make up new characters in writing--just like in DnD, Evercrack, World of Warcrap or whatever.
Only problem is the artificial life can sometimes be a lot more appealing than real life. Your friend is lucky she didn't turn that back in against herself. She could have driven herself as crazy as he, the psychic vamp, with the idea that it was her fault he retreated from their relationship into a fantasy with more appeal. It goes both ways, though I wouldn't begin to know where the fault was. Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be. People often just can't leave it at that, though they should.
Blogging is the same way. One can get carried away with the new people they meet in a realm where appearance doesn't matter unless one insists on making it matter. Or likewise, one can debase themselves with saying hurtful untruths in a veil of anonymity, things they wouldn't utter to some body's face, because in the real world lie real consequences. It all goes back to jealousy and envy.
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Like the Detroit Lion's ownership, the Maple Leaf's ownership makes too much money on a losing team to spend more on a winner. It sucks to be a fan of a team who's owners don't care for their fans. We've put up with it here in the D for a long time. So has Toronto. I miss the rivalry that once was, but they don't compare to the Toronto of old, though they should.
myCajunQueen
yourFriendsounds confused
HerExwouldgivemetheWillies
FoxlyLadyD
SaveRcity
2R2C
Shazammm!!!!
at least she didn't keep black boxes. Her's would've been filled with grave dirt, from the sound of it...
Yep, seems the the ol toothless Lions have gotten themselves some dentures. Hey, it's an improvement.
Wacky wild stuff all over the place, i tell ya. :/
Tony Danza and transsexual Judith Light, on "Who's the Boss", what a classic show. And what a touching theme song and intro, btw. Seriously!
guess im just 'weeyud'...
Your ideas are so agile. I love the quick turns of thought in the last sentence, and how it keeps its clarity.
And I too felt the Who's the Boss suspense and wondered when.
Hmm. But those 2 never did, did they?
Do you know how infamous you are?
Only I would go to a bar on my birthday and end up talking about you.
I never could re-invent myself, I think it's because I don't play games and maybe that's why I could never read you mind, and I can never change, I am the ending of a book, the last line never changes.
Peace
mark
RIP Al Oerter. Olympian.
The other teams the Lions beat self-destructed. In short, the Lions did not so much win those games as capitalize on the errors of others. The lions will never be champions with Millen and the cadaverous W.C(Cadaver). Ford associated with the team. End of story.
Sounds like the guy might have at least had a fairly rich inner life, although at some point we must connect that to the real life.
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