hubris

Not sure where it’s coming from but lately I’ve been feeling this need to be totally anti-social. As in, no communication of any sort to anyone anywhere. Not sure where the ideas are coming from, but they are coming fast and they are coming furious.
I recently wrote a letter of a sort of apology to someone recently. It was spurned on by a series of events I had not known that happened until later and yet I was being used as the measuring stick against said events. The letter had been planned in my head for awhile now (prior to the events) — and while i DO understand that this person and I would most likely never be friends again (and I AM fine with that), I just wanted to get off my chest regardless of the outcome because i still don’t understand how the decline began in the first place.
I bcc’d the letter to three people who were close to that person (and myself) and followed THAT up with a letter of explanation of why I wrote it in the first place. Bottom line, I offered the olive branch and whether or not that person takes it is fine, but I did at least try and that should matter for something. But of course I never heard from the person I emailed it to and of course I did not hear back from any of the three. You’re probably wondering, what did you expect to hear? Well, encouragement? Congratulations? Pat on the head? A stick to fetch? Not. A. Thing.
This isn’t the first time it’s happened either and I suspect it won’t be the last either and I suppose it will be my decision for the future.
When Paul and I broke up, initially back in October, no one really believed me and to be honest, I didn’t really expect them too. It was like I said shortly after that in a missive I had written, that I had to be nearly beaten to a pulp (which he THREATENED but did not DO) before anyone would think about coming to my rescue. Now I’ve let him, and moved 700 miles away. In the last year I’ve made tremendous changes in my life from quitting smoking, to quitting a dead-end job, to leaving an abusive relationship to moving back home to starting back in school and in that time period, of all these changes, of which have been positive, I’d thought I’d get a pat on the back. A congratulations. A job well done for making positive choices. Save for a few stragglers and my brother, there really hasn’t been any. Of the over 100 people on the mailing list and 50 odd freaks on my friends list at LJ and who ever reads my website, I only got less than 1/2 dozen emails from random people saying “Congrats!” “Good luck!’ “Best Wishes!” “Bon Voyage!”

25th Hour

I never claim to be a connoisseur of film. I just know what I like. Run Lola Run? Love it. Happenstance? Awsome. Sliding Doors? Great. (btw, i realise the last three movies have the same context, but that was a coinky dink). I’d like to think that I understand most major films and what the ‘point being’. That I can discern between a good film and a bad film. Like Showgirls. It is a great film — if you go into it knowing it’s what it’s about. Yes but it is terrible, but it’s so terrible it’s good! Like Evil Dead is so terrible that it’s good. So why the fuck do people keep saying if you don’t enjoy a film that ‘is deep’ this somehow makes you stupid? That you are better off watching Dude, Where’s My Car?.
Like Thin Red Line. It’s crap. I don’t care what anyone says about symbolism and foreshadowing, it’s crap. It was poorly edited, the script was choppy and I spent the whole 3 hours wishing I could watch paint dry. Gladiator is another one. Didn’t like it, didn’t get “it”. What the fuck was Robin Williams thinking about in One Hour Photo? I mean, fuck, Death to Smoochy was a MUCH better film (and had better imagery and symbolism etc). But yet OHP got better ratings than DTS, and DTS apparently was a “bomb” (at least according to Premier Magazine).
What does this have to do with the price of tea in China?
Well, tonight Chris, one of Jeff’s roommates, suggested that we go see 25th Hour. Of course the boys wouldn’t DREAM of seeing a chick flick with me (though Jeff did want to go see Gangs of New York with me, but there were no more showings), even though Jeff claims that by hanging out with me his chances of picking up women double because women assume that if one girl wants someone that they will want them too and also apparently that because i’m his sister and deem him cool enough to hang out with, this makes him a better person. Right. Follow? So anyway, Chris gives the synopsis and I’m thinking he’s talking about Life of David Gale by his synopsis and I did want to see this and it has Kate Winslet in it (mmmmmm).
Haha. I was wrong. Oh. So. Wrong.
What the fuck is up with Spike Lee? I mean, what the fuck. The context of the movie seemed plausible but oh jesus, WHY DOES HE ALWAYS GOTTA DIG at everything racial. There is this half moment where Edward Norton (mmmm Edward Norton) is in the bathroom and his image is just ragging on every race left and right. Like out of no where. And ALL THE GRATUITOUS showing of post-9/11 bullshit. Yah, move on okay. MOVE THE FUCK ON. Yah it was terrible and it was awful and people died but people DIE EVERYDAY and it may not be violent or filled with anger or rage or hate but they still do die. Where are their memorials? I mean, fuck. C’mon on now. Where the fuck is your patriotism?
Okay, I’m going left of center here — the thing with Lee is that he takes the ideas of his past films and he reinvents them for a newer generation. This was like watching Jungle Fever and Do the Right Thing mixed together with the imagery of post-9/11 thrown in. The thing that killed me is that it had a GREAT cast: Edward Norton, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and Anna Paquin playing a tart. Major props for Norton going from neo-nazi to a angry white ikea boy to a clown to a drug dealer in NYC. There were a lot of unnecessary moments in the film that for continuity could have been left out and there seemed to be mix messages, like Lee had this one idea and then scooted over to another idea and just kept doing this back and forth. The movie is crap. There was maybe one or two good scenes in the 2.5 hour flick.
Don’t believe the hype. Lee has made some stinkers (like Girl 6). Just because Lee directed it doesn’t mean it’s good and trust me, it IS okay to dislike a movie that everyone hypes up, it doesn’t make you any less stupid or less of an intellectual.
Save your money and see something else. ANYTHING else.

Tale of three men

a: boy-who-lives-overseas: I never finished the story I started here. It was — bizarre to put it mildly. We got out a lot of how we felt and he flip-flopped from how “I don’t have time to deal with this” to “Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on!” I said “You can’t have your cake and eat it too you know!” So we talked and he understood where I was coming from and I was actually pretty impressed that he wanted to discuss it — he kept reiterating that he couldn’t expose his soul like I exposed mine and I retorted it wasn’t about exposing ones soul — it was about you know how friendship is two way street. I wasn’t going to take this one way giving any more — screw that. But the friendship feels real — it doesn’t feel like it’s just online based. Bizarre I know. REM is doing a world tour and they are hitting Belgium this June — shortly after my 31st birthday. He asked me to go — if my passports get their act together. This wouldn’t be completely out of the questions — flights from Chicago-Brussels are running 250 RT (and hopefully my fat ass will be a much smaller version for me to sit in couch for 10 zillion hours). But the thing is 6 months ago I would have been packing my bag and saying “I’ll be there in a minute” , but now, I’m scared. Even platonically the idea of going to .be to meet him now does not excite me but scares me, tremendously. I feel like the proverbial dog who got kicked one too many times, and while the experience of going to .eu would be tremendous, I just don’t want to deal with the rejection, even if it is platonically.
b: boy-who-lives-near-me: the exfiancee. one of two, I guess, technically. HAS BEEN GETTING ON MY LAST NERVE. for several reasons (and yes this is soap opera from hell interlude): he lives with his Lisa-look-alike exgf. they are JUST ROOMATES (as he says). Yet, I can’t call over there. I can’t hang out with him without him punching a time clock (I have to be home before Karen is etc) and he is CONDESENDING. God, I never realized how stupid he thought I was. He came over when my stuff was delivered and he sat there being a dick about the damn dresser — about how I had to be careful because there were different woods — I told him I built Ikea dressers before, I can handle it, no biggie, I’ve done almost all the old furniture in my apartment back in DC (which was Ikea based). He kept reiterating about how difficult it was as I was pushing him out the door.Then he picked a fight with me in best buy. About cables. I knew what I had to buy but he kept insisting I get XYZ and he picked a fight with me about me getting a universal remote, because I wanted the 8 unit one and I only have four units that needed a remote so he kept saying “Why do you want the 8 unit one?” I mean for fuck sakes, if i want to spend the extra five bucks for the 8 unit one, it is MY MONEY. Picking a fight is too strong a word, how about kept insisting he was right even though I had told him specifically before we left what I needed and had shown him at my apartment? Right. And then he is the charmer, he IM’d me before I left for the class the other day and said “I thought I’d stop over and bang you before class.” Right. Aint that smooth. I’m just so, disgusted about how this has turned out. I had no intention of sleeping with him but I do/did think he was a close friend and this whole thing has made me feel just, ugh. I told him if he wanted a piece of this he’d have to work for it and he just assumed he would be working it THAT way — uh no , sorry. I realised I’m not even sexually attracted to him anymore — which is a good thing. I’m not even upset, just disappointed. And the kicker? He’s a father. Of a 7 year old. And has YET to tell his parents.
c:the-boy-who-was-the-crush: never happened. met him before i left DC and we wanted, desperately, to go out with each other. But I was living with Paul and even though Paul and I were officially split up, this wasn’t going to work. He came out from left field and sent me a dear lisa letter — even before we had a damn date. I said, apparently, a string of things to him that hit dead on. He emailed me this week. Apologizing. Apparently I was right about him and one of his girlfriends who I knew wanted to date him (i think elvenresistance knows exactly how this whole thing works) and he kept denying how they were just ‘friends’ and she didn’t feel that way (right.)– uh sure buddy. Anyways, that bombed. Big surprise. And apparently a few characteristics i had pinpointed on him were dead on. So I was right. I laughed and told boy-who-lives-overseas and he said “i’m not childish and immature” and i said “no, just pighearted and stubborn”. Glad things with the-boy-who-was-the-crush worked out — even in this way. While I’m still interested, I’ve realised a few things about HIS personality that would have driven me up the wall — like the whole grey area — i mean, i’m pretty much into black/white idealism. There are a few greys, sure, but overall, he’d require WAY TOO MUCH maintance and hand holding and that was something I’m not about to do.
I miss Paul. I miss his company because regardless of the fighting and the arguing and the bs, there were a few good things and I miss those good things. He’s scared shitless abotu the whole dating thing as well, which is kind of funny. But it’s only natural to miss someone after living with them for three years. It was definitely intense.
The end.

i.am.canadian

realised that many of you had not known I am canadian, by birth. i was born in Toronto and have lived and gone to school there. So my comment about whether or not canadia is a country (credit to panicsyndrome) country was me being facetious. But if you are like darthmoo, you’d want to build a bridge and give Connitcut back to it’s motherland.
ahem.
We did not go to Canadia.
My brother, mother and one of my aunts and myself were eating at a chinese buffet (in which said aunt called us at 9:30am that morning and told me that a: that was where we were going and b: i was driving and to pick her up promptly at 6 and c: having a discussion about my predicament.
As stated, I was born in Canadia, to an American and Canadian parents. By my mother, I am a naturalized American citizen. By my birth and by my father, I am Canadian. Both countries see me as being a citizen. I cannot, however, cross the border or the leave North America due to:

  • I lost my naturalization papers
  • I do not have a passport for either country.

When I went to my fathers funeral in May 2000, getting into the country was no problem, leaving (and this is prior to 9/11 btw) was a bitch. I was detained by INS/Customs at Toronto Pearson’s airport for nearly 3 hours because I claimed American citizenship and handed them a Canadian birth certificate.
Apparently, crossing the Blue Water Bridge these days requires much thought (even to just go to the Casino – hah) and when I simply stated that by having my own mother with me would help me and my OWN MOTHER said “Sorry, I can’t do that. Like they would believe me?”
Wtf.
So both INS and Province of Ontario have cashed their respective checks and I should be getting paperwork to get my passports together. yay.

welcome to my world (part duex)

Well, there is a lot to catch up on, namely, the drive here, being back in GR for the last two weeks and all the things in between. I haven’t been real motivated to keep writing, and I don’t know really why.
Right now the world is in a flux as the movers are nearly a week late bringing up my stuff (thought I’ve been spending money like crazy buying things for the apt), my exfiance Danny has decided I’m his Tuesday night fill in (and he hasn’t yet told his roommate/exgf I’m back in town which means I cannot call his place and I can only seem him xxx times/day/whatever). He’s also been hinting about us sleeping together – again and the problem is I don’t know where I stand on that. I know I made the vow of celibacy for a year but I’m making him jump through hoops regardless but I don’t really feel attracted to him anymore. Tonight he said something and I responded in kind about the jumping in hoops and he said “why do i have to?” I said “because it’s different now. I’m not easy lay to get into bed anymore.” And that part is at least true. Not only will one have to provide medical history but one should not expect that based on past experiences that I will simply lay down and open thine legs. I know I have to let him go, I just can’t do it yet.
I feel about as sexual as a turnip right now (oh baldrick!) and the jeans I bought last week are already too fucking baggy (I’m thinking it was a misprint in sizing, same size other pair of jeans are still tight from recent weight gain).
At any rate, things have been very surreal.
But, Pugsley is at a new home, staying with a local friend who has a pug-mix and wanted company for the dog. The girls are dirivng me bat shit with their codependncy, lilly is scratching herself to death thanks to no humidifier and the bowl of water trick is not working too swiftly. My main pc is doing its own little thing and i can’t do squat until my shit gets here. WHich REALLY sucks is that tomorrow (Wednesday) i am going to the college for a campus tour and classes start Monday and my shit is to arrive THIS WEEKEND.
oh boohoo.
confidential to D in VA: Awesome about the peppers! Are they still in the PPG cup i put them in? I figured scuba would not last long with the peppers 😉 I mean. the man has no domestication to him — have you heard about the colors of his new house? 🙂 hehe. I was surprised they had grown one pepper at all — but I’m glad you are taking care of them 🙂

shit.

He never got the email till after I went to bed, so the IM last night was coinky dink.
I received one letter full of panic.
Another that was super defensive.
He attempted to track me down via other methods of communication but I was already in bed laying up there staring at the ceiling.
I teared up and made coffee.