#21:: what did you say?

she was an odd one. quiet + withdrawn, at least on dates. I never saw her outside of that circumstance--I find it telling how someone interacts with others. a self-professed "country girl" from a place of 255 cities, towns, + gores. we were far from there. downtown berkeley to be specific, a few years ago--a place not immune to the kids with their car stereos that went booooooom-boooooom with bass-heavy tracks. this upset her. she professed a need for quiet in her world + said, in a pained manner of a confessional, that loud "urban" music made her think *very* bad thoughts. --cue sound effect of brakes squealing ending with a car crash-- huh? when I recently showed a class an episode clip of 30 Rock where jenna {jane krakowski} says {after finding out she was still mic_ed}, "did I say the 'N' word? not that I would," I thought of this incident. it bothers me to this day I didn't confront her on that one then + there. oh, it was clear what she meant, but how someone professing to be sooo open-minded + liberal can easily slip into the realm of generalizing epithets was troubling. no matter, things followed some kind of "borderline" personality trajectory of 180º "I love you-I hate you" and derailed shortly after this incident. she's a journalist + her stuff shows up on my radar every so often--with all of its blatant posturing, I know better.

#22:: fragments of life with better packaging

in groundhog day, phil {bill murray} laments how unfair it was that he couldn't relive one of his better days:

"I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster and drank pina coladas. At sunset we made love like sea otters. *That* was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get that day over and over and over... "

in that vein, every so often I think about my versions of pretty good dates. ::before that evening, we never met or even talked on the phone. sharing pixels + other bits of electronic ephemerata. how is molly the cat doing, anyway? I mentioned I was going to be in town + asked her if she was free on a particular evening. there was a band playing + as it turns out she went to grade school with one its charismatic members. I got tickets + was racing around town trying to get various things done. I left a few messages + was beginning to wonder if this was going to happen. she finally called my cell + we met up in a dive bar, me trying to rein in seemingly alcoholic tendencies. oh, how on great dates you lose track of time--of course we did + realized we better get to the concert venue. we had to wend our way across the city--me with a fuzzy sense of perceptions and she without her glasses, there was quite a bit of conversational meandering. when we finally got there, it was a wonderful space with perfect acoustics. I was mesmerized by the songs, sometimes raucous, oftentimes lilting. I was sort of curious to see her interact with her old friend who was in the band. it was quite a sight to see their faces light up, as they hadn't seen each other in a few years. she introduced me + I was walking on air, concealing in a veneer of coolness any sycophantic fanaticism. I bought her a CD that meant a great deal to me + gave it to her explaining how this music affected me. she was delighted and said it was as if I were a magician. of course, I was not--only perhaps in a john c. reilly sense in magnolia or akin to stephane's mother's boyfriend in la science des rêves, as I would have used some of said magic to prolong those few weeks of bliss. that evening ended with her inviting me to dinner with her sister + close friends. as I grow older + more deluded, I choose to just remember these magical montages, but long for even better dailies just around the corner.