December 10, 2008

superficial supersized

Christmas shopping for people is very difficult when you want whatever you gift to be completely thoughtful and unique and strolling the shops just offers nothing of that sort. I need to get creative.

It is a very strange feeling knowing you're some utensil in other people's lives and some of them don't even know it. Sometimes it involves sexual harassment, robbery, and Christmas.

After, as gracefully as possible, turning down some ill-thought out proposition from a colleague, the life of his sig/other is threatened by some gun-wielding maniac in a harrowing turn of events, and all of a sudden he has a total change of heart.

"Thanks for stopping me from doing some pretty dumb shit," he said to me reticently this afternoon.
"No prob. I got your back," I replied, looking down at the ground. "I mean, she's ok, right? You're ok?"
"Yeah, it'll be fine. Just feeling a bit of guilt now, you know..."

Maybe he'll appreciate her now, realizing how he could've lost her that way. I hope he does. I firmly stated my not shitting where you eat policy, and later on recalled the last job I had in which I was hopelessly in love/lust with one of the guys I worked with. All things considered, I am mostly happy to have that excuse rather than having to blatantly say that I'm actually not into you because for no particular reason I'm just not attracted to you and you're kind of a maniac. Wisdom prevails.

Speaking of wisdom teeth,
I found myself on a date with Ro, who I met at the studio from last week. He seemed alright and we chatted well enough for him to feel confident in asking me to hang out.
One dinner later, my suspicions were confirmed: I was sitting across the table from the exact doppleganger of David, who I "dated" two years ago at Purchase. They were even into the same thing. Ro is a writing assistant and aspiring screenwriter, David a playwright. I haven't spoken to him in probably just about a year but the similarities were so uncanny. Ro seemed like a nice enough guy but I was put off completely by the unwitting backtrack. I could argue that he could be a better version of David, but there was just no saving it. His impressions, his sense of humor, I was floored.
And then I saw them. His teeth. They even had the same dental work. Not hideous or crooked or anything terrible like that. This seems like a strange thing to take note of, let alone remember a year after, but the thing about David that was always inherently present was his carnivore behavior. Once you get involved with carnivores you become very familiar with that sort of character. And you don't forget the teeth.

Whenever a stranger tells me they think I'm pretty, I become flustered and flushed and very uncomfortable. In all my 22 years I have never learned to take a compliment well when it comes to superifical topics like physical appearance. I just say Thanks now and laugh nervously and probably a bit crazily and find a way to leave. There is pressure to stop the aging process. Impossible!

Things like that always remind how removed and isolated I am from people and things. I cannot remember that last time I felt really close to another person and I can't really remember how that sort of thing happens. I miss every connection, or it misses me.
I was thinking about "vulnerability" the other night. I don't know if that has anything to do with it, but I came to the conclusion that I am not vulnerable and I am not putting up some sort of guard. I just don't know how to be openly emotional without feeling like a re-re. I can't even call anyone Baby or Honey and take myself seriously.

Except sometimes when I am walking fast and weaving in and out of pedestrian traffic, I think of myself as a shark and sharks are always swimming even when they are sleeping. Because if they stop swimming they'll sink. And sometimes I think that if I stop even for a moment, something similar will happen to me. I remember, half a year ago, Steven telling me how he keeps himself beyond busy to keep from thinking about how he is alone. The irony of that, when we met.

More and more, I realize that I am becoming everyone who has hurt me in some small or large way. There's a good chance karma does not exist.

1 comment:

(oh)joneses said...

I hate taking the F train solely because of the linger of homeless essence that's all over that train. That smell and the fact that it's always poorly lit- in a way that looks like the bulbs are going to go out at any moment- make that one of the least desirable trains ever.