Toulouse is watching me, perched on the back of the sofa. He loves Leonard just as I do. But classic Leonard is best. I worked for twelve hours today. I wanted to use these pages to write something terribly clever, and creative, but my face feels like mush, and I know the words will come out wrong. Still, I feel compelled to write something, and so with free verse on my side, I soldier on.
This was my horoscope today:
Don’t be surprised if you end up having a falling out with one of your friends before the day is through. Your dreams could really help you better understand a few things today. And if you take the time to examine them, you might find that they’ll help to reveal what you really ought to be doing right now
Item 1.) My day started out prickly. How could it not, with Sylvia Plath waved under my nose, and the electricity of the full moon under my ass? But this entire idea raises questions for me. Can you have a falling out with someone you don’t really even know? I mean someone you have never even had a phone conversation with? Is that even possible?
Item 2.) I can’t remember my dreams. A friend once told me this was because I was too focused on the earthly plane, and not in tune enough with the spiritual world. This may be true. At any rate, I hate this fact. Every now and then I can grab snippets of my dreams, but this is rare. Perhaps tomorrow morning I will put pen to paper instead of hitting snooze. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
Item 3.) Work was great today. I attended an invigorating lecture, and it was yet another “I love my job” kind of day. I tried very hard to not be preoccupied with drafting the perfect response email. As it stands, I’m still not sure how to reply. (See Item 1)
Item 4.) After the lecture, and before heading to the theatre, I checked my voice mail. A florist left me a message because they were trying to deliver something to me (!) Because I knew I would spend the rest of the evening totally preoccupied with who might have sent flowers, I just flat out asked the woman at the flower shop when I called back. She was obviously embarrassed about reading the message in the card, which really intrigued me. She did tell me that they were from my old neighbour, who recently left town, and who recently came for a visit. This made me smile on the streetcar.
Item 5.) The rest of the night was spent picking over a falafel plate from Ghazale, sitting in the darkness of the Bathurst Street Theatre watching about twenty five teenagers sing and dance their hearts out in West Side Story. Highlights included watching them air kiss because they’re saving it for “show time” (When I was a young actor we made out at ANY chance we could!), soaking blood soaked rumble tees in a bucket in the hopes that the stains would come out, and barely noticing that one of the actors had drawn on a full beard during intermission. Those kids make me smile too. They were a godsend last March, and they sure are beating the February blahs.
Item 6.) The perfect email response came to me on the subway ride home. (see Item 1 and 3) At first I was going to post another song, totally unrelated, but vivid in its imagery. Then, as I walked through the parking lot smelling the thaw, the song above came on.
I am hard wired for big love. It is the very fibre of who I am. I feel fortunate that life has thrown lots of “real living” at me to temper my innate romanticism, or I would be one of those truly ridiculous women with impossible standards and expectations. The very essence of my life is romantic and sensual. It is a part of everything I do, and if you refer to your records, you will probably realize that this is what made me appealing to you in the first place. There is no point in faulting me for it now. I won’t waste it though. There are lots of people who are just not good at accepting love. I know this very, very first hand. I can see it right away now in a person. That way is strange and sad to me, and in those scenarios what made me so attractive at first is what makes people feel deeply defensive, and they then behave in all manner of strange ways.
The part I am only now starting to chew on is why people who have such a complex relationship with the idea of giving and receiving love are drawn to me. Or is it me who is attracted to them? Is it safer and easier to invest emotionally in places where it cannot ever yield a comparable return? Is there a very simple, psych 101 explanation of this phenomenon that is foreign to me?
How do people get to know one another? I mean really know each other? Is this possible on paper alone? Is there merit in stripping away the possibility of physical connection? Does it make the relationship more pure? Is it impersonal and contrived? Is it something best left to paper for fear of underwhelming disappointment once our base, fleshy reality can no longer be denied?
Can you really know someone through their letters alone, their songs sent to your inbox, their random quips posted on walls and in blogs? Do the people who read this blog really know me? Is this one great big platform where we can completely create the people we wish we could be? This could be like the ultimate in role-playing games. I paint a picture of a very specific type of woman, when in fact, I could be the exact opposite of this persona. Or perhaps I am both, and they are at war with each other sometimes, and in complete harmony at other moments…
Hmmm…my brain is humming. I should probably go to sleep now. I’m likely to soon start howling at the moon.
Speaking of head humming, you may recall some time ago we asked Brain to take a leave of absence. Well, it seems that Brain has now kicked everyone else out, and is only allowing Gut to stop in for brief conjugal visits. I’m really starting to hope that Heart has a good lawyer.