RandomCha

I just awoke from a strange dream. I had decided, completely on impulse, to buy a car. I walked on the car lot, glanced at a red compact car of some kind, and then went into the dealership and started the process in motion. The salespeople gave me lots of forms to fill out and sign, and after awhile when I finally told them that buying this car was completely on impulse they were shocked. One of them gave me the chance to turn back and cancel the whole transaction, but I refused. I wanted to go ahead. I had no idea how I would be able to afford car payments and insurance every month but I clung to the belief that it would all work out somehow and it would be possible to manage. A saleslady asked me, “What will you use the car for? Don’t you walk to work?” I answered, “Yeah, I probably won’t use it that often but it’ll be nice to have during the winter. And I can drive places around the city easier.”

I hadn’t yet gotten to drive the car I’d picked out or even sit in the driver’s seat before I woke up. I couldn’t see the clock from where I was lying and it was impossible to tell from the light in the room what time it was. But then I moved the clock so I could see it and it said 7.33. After going to the bathroom and washing my face and putting on jeans and t-shirt, I made coffee. Briefly turning on the TV and they were talking about the Bears game on Sunday on FOX. Then I turned the TV off and my computer on. Poured myself a cup of coffee, logged onto livejournal, and began to write.

Ah! It’s finally snowing out there this morning. It means we’re going to be extra busy this weekend. Because now everyone will really be in the shopping spirit. But when it’s so busy time goes by faster. Sunday night we catch the bus to Indianapolis.

Andy talked me into renting “Moulin Rouge” last night. Ugh. It was exactly as I had pictured it to be, except more so. Such a wealth of talent and ingenuity and money trained on something so shallow and artificial. It reminded me of those commercials that they show during the Super Bowl that cost millions of dollars, and everyone talks about them for a few weeks and then they’re instantly forgotten. I guess Luhrmann has decided that no one should be able to concentrate on any particular shot for longer than ten seconds. It’s hard for me to remember any specific image now, and I saw it less than 24 hours ago. It was ironic to see the film aping Studio 54, which itself was aping the real Moulin Rouge perhaps. On his website, Stephen says it was the worst film he saw this year (www.stumpshaker.com)

I just saw “3 Women,” the Robert Altman movie I’ve been wanting to see since I was 16. It was extraordinary, like some kind of a Rosetta stone that sheds light on so many movies that came later. Didn’t it come out the same year as “Eraserhead” and “That Obscure Object Of Desire,” 1977? How could this film get produced and distributed by a major studio were it made today? I suppose that it baffled almost everyone who saw it when it came out. Copyright issues must have kept it out of sight until now; the Film Center must have jumped through some real hoops to get a print.

Shelly Duvall and Sissy Spacek were just right on the money. Their characters are like ones that would on the periphery of a more conventional film. But here, they’re right in the middle. I’ve never seen an Altman film like this one. I couldn’t take my eyes away. The story is that he woke up from a dream and wrote it down and that formed the basis of the script. Like Lynch and Bunuel Altman yields to dream-logic: psychologically sound but logically irrational at the same time. Everything fits together and yet it doesn’t make “sense.”

Now I hafta spend some time surfing online so I can read more about this. I hope this film will be put on video soon. Along with “Diary of a Mad Housewife” it’s the most neglected 70’s film I can think of.

Wow, watched “Bad Day At Black Rock” earlier and it was really really cool. Just very tight and lean, not a wasted moment in the whole movie. The “set” for the town was impressive. The back of the movie box has a quote from Laurence Olivier, “I learned more about acting from watching Spencer Tracy than in any other way.”

After I made coffee this morning I sat down in the blue chair and turned on the TV and “Today” happened to be on. Katie Couric was interviewing Tom Cruise about his new movie, “Vanilla Sky.” It’s a remake of that Spanish film “Open Your Eyes.” I knew it was gonna be a cheesy interview when Katie asked Tom how he would describe the movie and he said, “It’s a love story.” Then things turned horrifying. Katie was gushing and everything and she said something like, “Oh I heard that Cameron Crowe and you guys saw the original and you guys said, wow, we have got to remake this film, because you just loved it so much …” When I heard that I literally jumped up out of my seat and changed the channel it made me so sick.

I mean, my god, what do they think they’re doing? Who are they fooling? Who remakes a movie out of love for the original?! That’s just absurd. No serious director is gonna look at a movie and say, “Boy, that’s so great, I should remake it!” No, they do it because they’re greedy (“Oh I bet I can make some money from this”) or just plain stupid (“Well, I bet I can do ‘Psycho’ better than Hitchcock, sorta update things for a modern audience”). Spielberg and Gus Van Sant are just putrescent for that. Or even worse it gets done because even though the original was great, it wasn’t in English and “American audiences just won’t stand for subtitles.” That’s hooey. “Amelie” was in the box office top ten last week. These people make me so mad.

Or maybe the original WAS bad, and THEN you have license to remake it … Soderbergh is really cool for doing that with “Ocean’s 11′ because it’s sort of a remake and homage to cheese at the same time. He has the right to do something like that because he’s doing it in the right spirit. I hope that Andy and I end up going to see that on Thursday.

Ugh, I have a knot in my throat and I bet it’s a cold coming on … drinking lots of orange juice to ward it off. I’ll try to go to bed early but not too early. Pretty boring night. No one’s called me and no one’s online. Looks like I’ll end up seeing “3 Women” on Thursday by myself. O well, I don’t care, I’ve been wanting to see it since I was 16 and if I have to go alone then I’ll go alone.

I just finished the final draft of the book! Yay! Despite my awful allergies all day today I managed to concentrate enough to work on it after dinner. It feels great. Tomorrow I’ll drop off a copy for Connor to read.

Rented “Coup de Torchon’ to watch in a little bit. I’ll get to sleep at a good time tonight so hopefully I’ll be bright & fresh in the morning. It’s very comfy to be in my jammies at 5.30 pm.

Looking forward to seeing my brother this weekend.

The Jane Siberry concert last night was just beautiful. I feel so spoiled–I’ve seen like 6 excellent concerts this year, which is about 5 more than I usually see each year. Jane’s voice is so wonderful; delicate and yet quite precise, meticulous, solid. She bantered with the audience very comfortably, did a lot of improvised lyrics. Just her and her guitar, or piano or keyboard. Told some funny stories. She even ended the show with a sing-along rendition of “Calling All Angels.” I guess her show was a nice counterpart to watching “Videodrome” earlier this week, heheh.

And it was great to see Jane with Ben. 2 years since I saw him. We ate at the Golden Angel on Lincoln, this greasy spoon I haven’t been to in probably 3 years. He looks good. He’s filled out a little and isn’t so skinny, more proportionate. He’s a grown-up now! I’m a grown-up now! He hasn’t changed that much, only deepened in personality. It’s funny: he drinks coffee now and isn’t a vegetarian anymore. Both changes from when we dated.

It was the summer of 1994. I feel old to have a romantic history which stretches back so far. We were just college kids who weren’t cynical about stuff yet. He broke up with me. I don’t regret that. Que sera sera. How can we know any more now than we did then?

He drove me home after the show. We hugged each other there in his car and kissed each other on the cheeks. I got inside and at once I sat down and tried writing about how I felt. It’s been awhile since I’ve articulated myself so immediately in a poem and it felt great. What I wrote isn’t quite finished yet. I’m going to let it simmer for a bit and then I’ll do some stirring.

I think I’m going to have Tuesday through Thursday off from work this week. Gosh, that’s nice. Bought two more Dawn Powell books yesterday. They were only $3 a piece. Gonna do some reading for sure. Looks like the weather has finally turned wintry out there. Darn it, I want that Elvis Christmas CD. Hope Shana can find it.

Abnormally warm today, in the low 60’s. Weird stuff. It doesn’t remind me of anywhere else on earth. It’s very unsettling.

I walked around in a daze shortly before twilight. Went up and down Halsted. Spending money, because I was bored. How pathetically American is that? Some new headphones (my old ones that I’ve had since freshman year of college cracked) and then up to Evil Clown and, despite myself, bought the soundtrack to “Waking Life” for $18. I almost despise myself for paying that much for a CD. But dammit I wanted it, and I haven’t been able to find it anywhere else. It IS awfully good.

Listened to that on my new headphones walking south, darkness beginning to soak the streets, vaguely hungry and precisely clueless. So I went to The Hungry Tomato and recklessly ordered a Coke and cheese tortellini. After I ate and drank everything I left $11 on the table and walked out the door.

Onwards to Osco, a book of stamps, an annoying slow man in front of me buying 2 packs of cigarettes and paying separately for each one using his debit card. Suddenly I had an almost overwhelming desire to be HOME, right NOW, out of the public! I almost screamed.

Finally I was home, silent phone, playing the CD, reading ‘The Wicked Pavilion’ by Dawn Powell. Darn it, she’s good. How come I’ve never heard of her before? If Paul Bowles wrote about New York instead, it would feel like this book. And now, like with Paul Bowles, I must read everything of hers eventually.

But I can’t read all night. I don’t want that. I’ve read 40 pages. To read anymore I’d hafta take my book somewhere else, order tea and sit there and read … that would mean going back to the coffeehouse (no thanks, I work at 10 am tomorrow) or going to Caribou across the street (fine tea but bad distracting 80’s ballads on the radio). If I don’t read I can watch ‘Thirty-two Short Films About Glenn Gould,’ which I rented. Watch the movie and drink wine. But no more to eat! Already full. There are stripes of fat on my body that I’ve never noticed before. Making me see myself at 40. Recent I suppose. Everything out there is a calorie delivery system.

It’s nearly 8 o’clock as I write this. No one online talking to me, or who I can possibly imagine talking to. My friends I can count on one hand. Bed early, rise early, coffee, new day started and same shade of work & boredom. But a nice soundtrack to everything. The CD is coming with me to work tomorrow. That and maybe Lester Young.

I wonder, are people actually reading all this stuff? Or is it just me talking to myself in cyberspace?

Boy, I feel so blah and lazy today. I don’t really want to stay home all day but I have no idea where to go. I’m not feeling very creative these days. Inside me there’s that creative spark somewhere, but no outlet for it seems to be engaging me. Which makes me depressed.

Yes, I have to say that I’ve just been depressed for the past week or so. I’m not worried … I mean, I know this stuff comes and goes. But it’s still a drag. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve been reading a lot, and I enjoy reading, but I can’t read 24/7. And besides Andy, it seems like none of my friends have been calling me. I really don’t have that many friends; I mean people who are just gonna call me up & say hey, what’s up? Haven’t heard from my parents either since I wrote the e-mail telling them that I’m spending Christmas with Andy. The silence is maddening. I still have no idea what kind of response I’ll eventually get from them. It made me very unhappy to have to write to them and say that but I don’t know what else I could have done. I guess there weren’t any good options. It must have really hurt them, to read that. They don’t realize that they’re being cruel shutting out that side of me, that side that has a boyfriend and wants to spend the holidays with him but knows that it would be impossible for me to bring a boyfriend home to my parents. And my brother is travelling on business right now, Atlanta for two weeks I think, so I can’t even get in touch with him . I should have gotten his e-mail address last time we talked. I don’t know how he’s going to feel about this whole thing either.

Anyway, back to not having anyone call me, or make plans with me. I feel this most acutely on Saturday nights, when Andy closes at work and so I have the night to myself. The past two Saturdays I’ve gotten off work, vaguely anxious about perhaps hanging out with someone or going to see a movie or something. But nothing materialized. I ended up reading and surfing the net all night long more or less.

Really I just wanted to share an experience with someone, like how Andy & I share things; that’s what connects us and makes us friends. Friendship is what our relationship is based on. I think it’s easy for people to forget that about how relationships work. It’s not all so mystical.

I have plenty of writing I could be working on, or pieces I could be submitting places, but no excitement for that stuff at the moment. So I’m listening to “Before And After Science” by Brian Eno and “Go” by Dexter Gordon, and they’re both appropriate somehow.

On Thursday when my cold first hit me & I felt rotten all day, I went to Border’s and bought “Side by Side” by Ellington/Hodges and that lifted my spirits. But then the tray of my CD player got jammed again, and it wouldn’t unjam, and I had to bring it to a repair shop. The guy said it’s going to take a few weeks and might cost $100. Luckily I had no CDs stuck in it at the time. And my VCR is badly distorting the sound whenever I watch a tape; I’ve cleaned the heads and still no improvement. Seems like every time I’m about to pay off my credit card, stuff happens …

Grumble grumble. How boring. Andy is coming over in an hour or two and I guess we’ll just hang out and see what happens. I just want to cuddle and talk. Though I don’t know what to say. If it was all rainy outside I’ll feel much better,I’d actually feel like going somewhere, but instead it’s warm and cloudy.

Haven’t even showered yet. Maybe I’ll feel better if I do?

Listening to Philip Glass’ Low Symphony. It’s growing on me.

So glad that it’s autumn now. It was definitely chilly today. But it’s nice to be inside & cozy after walking somewhere through the wind. It was just nice to have a day off today. Not that I got much done. I suppose that’s the point.

The Murakami book is wonderful! So why aren’t I reading it now? Hmm …