Unedited selections from my inbox this morning, March 22, 2004:
today is monday. i am already tired and weary from a week that has yet to happen. i feel like i’m planning ahead, getting on the ball by being already so beaten down. i’m no procrastinator!!
> Big Theatre For Little People
> the works of
> Samuel Beckett,
> Jean-Paul Sartre,
> Augustus Strindberg
> as performed with soiled and discarded
> handpuppets and abandoned stuffed animals
> “Your security blanket is useless.”
> Ticket Prices:
> what does it matter, when the price of
> existence is sorrow, anxiety and
Unfortunately nothing solves everything nor makes every situation the right one. Develop that pill and you’d be a zillionaire. And my personal hero.
Stay? Go? Stay? Go? I tore my hair out daily over that one with the Hungarian. For me there was value in staying – for awhile – just for the sake of having stayed. Because, as you know, for me, something that lasts as long as three months is unusual. I wanted it on my record. But also I wanted to practice working on something with someone. Unfortunately, though he very much wanted (and wants) to be together, “working” on it for him meant telling me what I should do to change. Anyway, that’s all neither here nor there relative to why I began this paragraph. But now it’s time for a new one. See below.
Ok. What I’ve been thinking as I’ve been dating these past two weeks and meeting three men, each of whom would be in many ways a vast improvement over the Hungarian, is that I wish I could make myself a composite boyfriend. And I think it is the human condition to want that and one of the sad realities of adult life that we all have to face that it isn’t an option. Actually that’s a brand new thought but I think it’s not a bad one, frankly. So, what are we to do instead? The impossible: choose which things are absolutely essential in a mate and let go of the idea that we can have it all without “settling” to a degree which will make us angry, bitter, lying, cheating, absent, or unbearably ambivalent so-called partners. For me, the Hungarian was that kind of settling. I had someone I loved having sex with, enjoyed cuddling and watching a video with, occasionally had a good laugh with, with whom I could not have a decent conversation, who made no effort to understand me, and who so regularly made me want to kill him that I began to feel like a madwoman. (Ok, I admit, that should have been a fairly obvious “no,” but I’m a sucker (read starving person) for sex and companionship.)
All that to say, in a word, aaaaaaaaaargh. Even if one can let go of the idea that having it all is possible, how the fuck do you know what’s absolutely essential and what you can live without without hating the other person for their failure to be what you want them to be? Another pill I’d like you to invent, please.