emma b. says

Friday, July 04, 2008

Robots in Love

So I fell hard for a box of bolts, who chirps and beeps, in a world of great ziggurats of our ancient discards, who is binocular eyed and is a lover of Hello Dolly and cockroaches. I am pretty sure that Hello Dolly is the first musical that I saw as a child, did I love it, yes I did. Still do. If you tell anyone, internets, we are done. Is there any wonder I have such a fondness for the gays.

Wall-E. Best rom-com with a message ever. A wonder to behold. I will own it, and I will watch it when I am feeling bereft. I was thinking as I walked through the darkened mall, when I wasn't strictly, completely weirded out walking through a darkened mall, that I should have left Sex and the City feeling the same, that sort of hapless sweetness that comes with a movie that reaffirms one's commitment to the notion of romance and possibility, because, honestly, if it can happen to a lonely trash compactor, it can happen to anyone at anytime. God bless those geeks at Pixar.

I had an interview today -- the first in over a month. In a sense it was the best interview I have ever had, it was with a veteran interviewer for an in house with one of the recruiting agencies I have been working with.... This guy fucking grilled me on one side, flipped me and grilled me on the other. I haven't met anyone so keenly perceptive in a really long time. It was a fascinating experience, and I felt a sort of kinship with him, he as much as told me that he would love to hire me, but didn't think I would stick, and he was right. But I would stick for awhile. I'd gladly stick anywhere for a year or so. He asked the question, given the choice would you ask for permission or for forgiveness. I puzzled over that this afternoon and this is what I put in my thank you - "I've mulled over that question over the course of the afternoon and it struck me as I was watering my garden, I consider that etiquette dictates that one should always ask permission, but asking forgiveness requires a certain fortitude that I wholeheartedly embrace. As to risk aversion, I believe that it is a catholic obligation."

In other news, I am an idiot. I finally filed for unemployment, why did I not do this months ago? I will tell you why, I thought it meant surrender, and it sort of does. I sort of felt like I might be taking from others who are more needy than I am, then the devil on my other shoulder bleated, bish plz, you have been paying into the system, the angel concurred and together we decided barring a decent offer we might take the summer off. I am late for my annual exam, and I really need to see the dentist, but it's not like I am fucking anyone (shortly after the Skate Rat puked in my bathroom on my birthday, he stopped returning my calls) and my teeth aren't rattling around in my skull. Yet.

There is nothing any doctor or any liquor can do about the constriction in my heart.

Last night I watched the lightening from the porch and thought it better than any fireworks. Though, back in California, the lightening nearly set alight my slice of paradise on the river.

I keep going back to that mantra, nobody ever said it was going to be easy, I just didn't expect it to be so hard. This myriad of expectation and disappointment, hopefulness and hopelessness, in circumstance but mostly, largely in myself. I listen from the porch at the feeble whee of firecrackers set off from neighboring backyards, and the whoop and holler of promise of sorta blowing shit up, it's an intermittent sort of symphony of half assed cauldron drums and the ineffectual nature of legal fireworks. It used to be the sparklers really sparkled. I want the roiling unpredictability of an electrical storm, I want the hair on my arms to stand at end, I want the percussive drama of the thunder and I want the deadly light show, it's just no fun if the understory doesn't burn and someone doesn't get to say that they survived a direct assault from a supremely irked and contrary Mother Nature.

Oh yeah, and I'd like the letters and sodas part, too.

I don't sleep so well anymore.


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