why doesn't he miss me?

This past weekend was amazing. Re-Friend and I have found ourselves in a very, very strange place, where we're dating -- no, seriously, that's basically what we're doing -- but not kissing or having sex. But we sleep in the same bed every weekend in our skivvies, spoon all night long, are openly affectionate with each other in public -- which, if you knew RF, is something he doesn't normally do.

And then, on Saturday, we played Rock Band with a small group of friends. I was having to leave early to go to a bachelorette party, but before I left, RF wanted to do one more song. (He was playing lead guitar and I was singing.) So, he picked it:

There's times where I want something more
Someone more like me
There's times when this dress rehearsal
Seems incomplete
But, you see the colors in me like no one else
And behind your dark glasses you're...
You're something else

Chorus:
You're really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
I'm really lucky
Underneath it all
You're really lovely

You know some real bad tricks
And you need some discipline
But, lately you've been trying real hard
And giving me your best
And, you give me the most gorgeous sleep
That I've ever had
And when it's really bad
I guess it's not that bad

(Repeat Chorus)

So many moons that we have seen
Stumbling back next to me
I've seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
I've seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
Better... better...

[Lady Saw: ]
You are my real Prince Charmin'
Like the heat from the fire
You were always burnin'
And each time you're around
My body keeps stallin'
For your touch
Your kisses and your sweet romancin'
There's an underside to you
That so many adore
Aside from your temper
Everything else secure
You're good for me, baby
Of that, I'm sure
Over and over again
I want more

[Gwen Stefani:]
You've used up all your coupons
And all you've got left is me
And somehow I'm full of forgiveness
I guess it's meant to be

(Repeat Chorus)

You're really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
I'm really lucky
Underneath it all
And you're really lovely
You're really lovely

I admit, I've never really listened to the lyric on this song before (and, in case you don't know which song this actually is, it's called "Underneath It All," and it's by No Doubt, and Gwen Stefani wrote it for Gavin Rossdale, who later became her husband). So, as I was singing it, I was realizing, "Oh, shit, this is about us!" Which, of course, led to the inner monologue of, "Wait, is he saying he loves me?", which inevitably led to the question, "What does this mean?"

And then...

The past two nights, he's slept over with an ex of his. Par for the course. And I hate myself for getting excited.

*sigh*

I'll never learn.

Fuck'm.

i've reached a dangerous place with you, my heart. i've become so dependent upon you and your time that my chest tightens when you are away. i wait in my corner of the world, hands clenched to my bosom, every muscle tensed in anticipation of your return. it is sick and ridiculous and i cannot help it. sleep comes not soon enough most evenings, and my rational mind tells me that this is a phase, that it shall pass, and quickly so. but 'til such time as that may be, i cannot think but of you; i cannot breathe but your scent; i cannot speak but your name. and i am lost.

i recently had a birthday -- o.k., it was about a month ago, but that's still recent, right? at least, it's recent enough to be considered recent...in my opinion...anyway... ;-)

as i was saying, i recently had a birthday, and it was a pretty big one. and as the time continues to fly and roll and push its way forward into Age, i get more and more anxious about figuring out what the fuck i wanna be when i grow up.

o.k., truth? what i really wanna be is a singer. all i wanna do is get on stage, either solo or with a group, and sing the shit out of music that gives me butterflies and laugh in unfettered glee. i wanna go from chorus-pedal heavy guitar-driven music to intimate a cappella with complicated and intricate harmonies and vowel placements.

that's what i want.

but i fear -- all the time! -- that i've waited too long to realistically pursue this path. hm.

maybe "fear" is the problem, in the end. i had a teacher once who said that there's enough room in this world for all artists, that we are not in competition with each other, only with ourselves and our willingness to be who we are (i.e. artists). maybe my problem isn't that i'm too old to be a singer and writer; maybe it's that i'm too chicken-shit to discard all of the accepted reasons to NOT be a singer and writer!

huh.

o.k., let's see what happens if i try it from this new point of view...

Re-Friend has a date tonight. looks like i'm off the hook! yay!

i've somehow managed to get into a familiar cycle with Re-Friend. this is exactly what i was afraid of. there's way too much chemistry for us to hang out together so much. time to back down.

hm. i'm finding myself in an odd position. i mean, not literally, like i'm stuck in a particularly complex yoga posture or anything like that. i mean that, for some odd reason, i'm gettin' all kinds of play from da boyz. i mean, guys i've know for months and years all of a sudden are being uber attentive and solicitous.

don't know how i feel about that.

hm.

*sigh*

enjoy the ride, i guess!

(oh, yeah, by the way, one of them in particular left me a kind of adorable voicemail message, and i keep playing it over and over and over and over and over...you get the idea.)

i'm a dork. i'm titillated. i'm nervous as hell.

it's been a bad couple of days -- not because anything untoward has happened to me, but because i'm going through one of my keenly lonely phases. i don't know if it's 'cause i've started dating regularly which has only underlined the difficulty of finding someone you really connect with, or if it's because there's something hormonal happening with me (always a possibility when you're a woman); maybe it's 'cause i still don't have a job and am lacking a sense of purpose, a sense of worth.

i'm so fucking lonely. i cry, and i sleep on it, and i'm still lonely. if it's hormones, i can't wait for this to pass.

i think some other contributing factors are the recent conversations i've been having with exes.

my first love, and the only man i ever tho't i would marry: we've been having pretty intimate conversations online -- not sex conversations, but the kinds of things that you talk about with someone you feel connected to. we talk about where we want to live out the ends of our days, what it means to have a family, why it is that being out in the natural world feeds our souls, the hopes we have for the other to be happy and fulfilled, and so on, etc., ad infinitum.

and then there's re-friend. the other night, we hung out for italian food and monday night football. we drank three bottles of wine -- well, he mostly drank; i helped some -- and had a really candid talk about why it was that he was so cruel to me six years ago. he asked me to sing him a lullaby. i did. he cried. i stroked his hair. he asked me to stay the night so we could keep talking in the morning. i told him i couldn't. he said, "you can trust me." i said, "give me time." he fell asleep. i kissed his temple and left.

*sigh*

i don't know; was it simpler at some point, this life thing? i wish i could remember. i wish i could do it that way again, all forward motion and no fear. i have a vague feeling i was once fearless. i wonder what that was like?

peace, babies.

so, i had my first online "date" blow-off last night. totally took me by surprise and confused me. i tho't we were getting along exceptionally well, and even if there was no in-person chemistry, i was really looking forward to making a good friend.

but, when i tried several times to contact my friend about our plans, when i tried to figure out what time and where we were supposed to meet, i was met with silence.

nothing.

nada.

not even a simple little, "hey, i changed my mind. sorry!" or perhaps even an, "i'm not really interested in meeting in person; can we stay pen pals?" or even a, "your last picture you posted? yeah, i think this is done."

i don't get it. i mean, why is it so hard to just say something? just as a common courtesy. and, y'know, i'm sure i'm overreacting 'cause i'm so disappointed. but, still! can't you just SAY IT ALREADY?!?

man sakes alive!

*grrrrrr*

now i'm crabby. tonight's gonna be a whiskey kind of a night, i can tell. hm, altho' ... i do have SEVERAL bottles of wine that are just sitting there. maybe i'll crack one of those bad boys open.

*sigh*

boo! BOOOO, I SAY!

so, i know i suck as a blogger, 'cause i really only post when i am in a boy quandary. sorry, kiddies. my bad. and today is not unlike those other days.

here's the thing:

i finally caved into the persistent nagging and hounding of a couple of my friends to try the whole online dating thing. my feeling about online dating has always been:

EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and, honestly, now that i'm doing it, i'm not sure my gut reaction was not the more accurate and appropriate one to have.

but, y'know, i'm clearly not meeting the man of my dreams the old fashioned way, even tho' i've met plenty of Good Timers. but the bottom line is that i'm competitive and jealous, and not a little self-important, and i want ALL of my dalliances to be enthralled by me! which, by the way, is (1) completely ridiculous and narcissistic, and (2) completely hypocritical, 'cause i sure as hell am not enthralled by them!

so, to be as fair as i can be when it comes to my lustful wantonness, i decided that, yes, all right, i'll actually date.

hence, the tepid willingness to try online dating.

i've been doing this now for about, eh, let's say a week and a half, maybe two weeks. i've met a few men, but only two have really stuck (read: i've made actual plans to go out with them).

the first one is everything that my dalliances have not been, including age-appropriate. he's actually nearly two years older than me, and lemme tell ya -- it's been a while since i've gone out with someone my own age!

our first date was at a tea house. the conversation was easy, and covered everything from the psychology of stuttering and lisps to favorite childhood memories. he was easy to talk to, was dressed nicely but not metro, was a gentleman (rarity!) and soft-spoken, looked at me when i talked, and actually encouraged me to talk. it was so ... nice. i mean, he's a good looking man; i could definitely see that he'd be a sensual lover. but there was no There there, if you catch my drift.

even so, i tho't that maybe it was just a first-meeting-jitters kind of thing, so we made a second date to go to an outdoor music festival. i figured, if we like the same kind of music, this is something that will be great, right? right??? wrong. turns out, he doesn't really like the kind of music he had intimated he liked. he just liked the one band that was playing the festival who happened to be of the genre of music that he had intimated he liked.

*sigh*

and then, to top it off, i had a sudden realization: in the SEVERAL HOURS that we'd ended up spending together, i had not seen him laugh out loud once. not ONCE! hell, he barely smiled at all! i mean, what's up with that? i'll have you know, i'm a very charming companion, and adorable! surely, you'd smile wide around me! right? right!

SO done.

so, that's one guy down. ready for the next one? here we go:

to start with, the dating site says that we're 94% compatible. that seems crazy-high to me, and is encouraging. second, he likes to drink. BIG plus for me! and he's a coffee addict. even BIGGER plus for me! he's a gamer (c'est moi), literally has the same taste in music as i do (we ran down our pandora radio lists), and is funny as hell. we laugh all the time. i feel sexy as hell with him. so what's the problem? lemme 'splain; there are three:

(1) i've never actually met the guy. we've IM'd a LOT, and texted a lot, and e-mailed a lot, but have yet to actually get together.

(2) he lives about an hour away, and doesn't have a car. yikes. that means i'd have to do all the work. (i mean, he's offered to come up to where i am via bus and train, but c'mon, i'm not that much of a selfish bastard!)

(3) HE'S 17 YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME! i don't know how to feel all right about that one. i mean, honestly, this is the biggest problem i have with the whole sitch.

perhaps the scariest part of all of this, tho', is how much i really, really, REALLY like this boy! i haven't felt this way since ... well, i guess since i was his age. it sucks. it sucks big, hairy monkey balls. or maybe it doesn't? hm.

anyway, we have tentative plans to get together either this saturday or next. i'm sure i'll be letting all y'all know how it goes. dear god, help me!

peace.

it seems that every single emotion i'm having today runs the risk of The Superlative. i'm the happiest; the most restless; the horniest; the laziest; the most fucking freaked out. i'm not anything in moderation, and everything to the nth degree. it's fucking annoying -- yes, yes, the MOST annoying! (sure, why wouldn't it be?)

and, of course, there's always a boy to add to the mix. this is a new boy, a boy that i know is a tease, but at least he's age appropriate! that's a step in the right direction, right? sadly, while i was trying to be coy with the new, exciting boy, there was another, self-adoring, attention-sucking, buttinski boy who would weasel his way into any conversation i was having with i'm-too-shy boy.

DAMN!

but lovely boy e-mailed me that very same night, mere hours after our confab. he sent me some music that he tho't i'd like (he was correct in his thinking) and said that he was glad that we got to talk more than we usually do -- exclamation point, exclamation point.

and knowing what an overeager idiot i usually am, i chose not to respond 'til the next day -- early afternoonish. i don't know; what's the rule now? i mean, i know there used to be a three-day rule, but i'm getting on in years and don't have much time to waste. besides, at what point is it nobler to just be the freak you are instead of the cool chick you're so obviously not?

so now my point is that it's been a day, and i haven't heard back.

and now, just having typed that, i realize how ridiculous i'm being. o.k., mini-panic attack/sense-of-desperation-'cause-a-good-thing's-slipping-away is over.

oh, and ps: this guy is adorable, but -- as i've already said -- a tease. if i were to get my hopes up, i know that it'd be nothing but mind games and waiting to see who made the next move. UGH! what IS it these days? maybe i could just be the one to say, hey, what are we doing? are we friends? are you gonna ask me out? 'cause i'll say yes!

peace.

i'm ten shades of anxious right now:

1) i am obsessively listening to a song that i'm co-writing with a friend over and over again, and that i really love, but i want to be able to play it myself and make some changes. i think my voice will sound better on it than hers does, but i don't know how to lovingly tell her that.

2) my father is coming down tomorrow to talk to me about money. when he tried to talk to me on the phone to schedule a time to meet, i began to cry uncontrollably. i don't know if it's because i feel like i'm nine years old again and am in serious trouble, or if it's 'cause i'm so bone-deep embarrassed at my financial state, or if it's 'cause he wants to know my plan and i don't have one.

3) i have run out of money, EDD wants to do another phone interview -- but not 'til july 9th -- and i'm still unemployed with no promising leads. i have no guarantee that EDD will come to a favorable conclusion over the course of our interview re: my unemployment insurance, and if they decide to discontinue payments (which, by the way, i have not received any payments since mid-May), i honestly have no idea what i'm going to do to survive.

4) i'm faced with the very real question of whether or not i can keep up my contractual obligation to pay rent through the end of september (which is when my current lease expires). if i don't get a job or get my EDD unemployment insurance payments reinstated, how am i gonna pay rent, much less utilities, or buy food, or toilet paper?

5) i have a job interview on monday. it's for a part-time job with a really exciting company, but it only pays $15/hour for 20 hours a week. i'm hoping that there's some rule with EDD that this will be just crappy enough of a pay rate that i'll be able to accept the job and not lose my unemployment benefits. but if i DO get the job, what do i do when my unemployment runs out in march of next year? will i have to quit an awesome job to look for full-time employment, or will i be able to morph this job into something more?

6) i'm feeling more alone than i have in a very, very long time. part of this is because it seems as tho' the ghosts of relationships past are coming back to haunt me with a strange insistent ferocity. these men that i once adored and continue to adore want to see me and be around me and talk to me and learn about me, even more so than when we were together, and yet one is married and the other is in a serious relationship. and then, of course, there's a new boy who could be lovely and amazing, but he's a good friend of mine's old obsession; if they never actually dated, would it be breaking the girl code for me to date him?

i need to drink.

i recently realized that i get turned on by taiko drumming. seriously. as in, full body tingling, blood rushing to my face and clitoris, butterflies in my stomach turned ON.

*sigh*

i have to join a dojo. there's one here where i live that's actually famous. they're pretty hard-core, though, and i'm not sure i'd be up to it. i was watching an interview with the sensei, and he was saying that the students there do 500 push-ups and sit-ups a day.

seriously.

i mean, i'd like to think i'm a woman of great determination who'd do whatever it takes for her art. and taiko -- as with a lot of asian disciplines -- is beyond an art form; it's also a spiritual way of life kind of thing, with a mind/body philosophy tied to the way you perform the music, hold the drumsticks, stand or kneel or lie before your drum.

have i mentioned that this shit turns me on?

*sigh*

yeah, i gotta figure out a way to make this happen.

so, ex-friend has somehow become re-friend.

i'm not sure exactly how this happened. i think it was probably a combination of wanting to be polite and wanting to have my friend again. that being said, i'm really, really not sure this is a good idea. i mean, we've hung out a total of three times now (once by ourselves), and i gotta say: OUCH! it hurts -- i mean, really hurts, so much so that i am semi-desperately trying to find a way to not see RF anymore.

*sigh*

anyway, i have to run, but i just wanted to state what i, well, stated so i can have some sort of record, some proof of accountability. i'll fill all y'all in later when i know more.

peace.

i've known my best friend, gina, now for 27 years. she's married to this guy named aaron. one night, they were watching "the fountain," and she saw that the director's name is darren aronofsky. for some reason, that just struck her as completely and totally funny: "aronofsky! aw, who are you, honey? you're my little aronofsky! yes, you are! ar-on-of-SKY!"

you get the picture, right?

and, what makes calling aaron "aronofsky" even more fun is just how much he hates it. i mean HAAAAAAATES it! so, we get a couple of scotches in us, and suddenly we're, like, "hey, remember when you started calling aaron 'aronofsky'? that was funny!"

"aw, aronofsky! who's my aronofsky? YOU are!"

"ar-on-of-SKY! ar-on-of-SKY!"

"hey! only gina can call me that! no one else, damn it!"

*snicker, snicker*

so, sunday night (two nights ago), a couple of us were hanging at gina and aaron's place, sittin' on the balcony, drinking, smoking, listening to awesome music, and i mentioned that darren aronofsky had a new movie out ("the wrestler"), which i felt gina and aaron should see, since it's, y'know, aronofsky.

this led to a general discussion about movies we were excited to see. i mentioned the new star trek flick. aaron tried to make the vulcan salute, but accidentally did the boy scout salute, which turned the conversation to the fact that aaron was an eagle scout.

in a fit of brilliance, our friend, jae, said:

"aronofsky, the eagle vulcan. live long and be prepared."

i just about lost my shit.

peace, babies.

once again, the saga of EF rears it's at-one-time-hideously-ugly-but-now-just-needs-a-good-pore-refining-treatment head.

as i mentioned in a previous post, i'd gotten word from EF's roommate (and a friend of mine) that EF misses me. i, naturally, pooh-poohed the notion, since i think that, not having seen each other in two and a half years and not having been friends with each other for almost five years probably falls somewhere under the category of Having Moved On And Forgotten All About It.

but then, on friday afternoon, i got this text from EF's cell (names changed to protect the truly innocent):

hey do you wanna play laser tag for my brother's birthday on Sunday? lemme know

um, HUH?

i was confused. i couldn't comprehend that EF had invited me to his kid brother's birthday gig, especially since history told me that these things usually just consisted of the siblings and the parents, and maybe one old family friend. why me? had [jujubees], EF's kid brother, asked if i could be there? if so, how could i find out without sounding paranoid? i mean, if the kid specifically wanted me there, i would maybe go. but if it's just some oddball idea of EF's, well, no thanks!

after some further consideration, i tho't that perhaps it wasn't really EF who had texted the invitation to me, but his sister (using his cell phone, obviously), since she and i have remained good friends all this time, and it's exactly the kind of thing she'd do. so, thinking it was her, i wrote back:

Ur bro [jujubees]? What day?

to which EF rather brusquely -- and rightly so, since (a) he only has one brother and (b) he'd already told me what day -- replied:

sunday

i immediately felt sheepish. my bad.

i also realized, based on the terse answer from EF, that it WAS EF who had contacted me. immediately, warning signals started flashing. i mean, don't get me wrong; [jujubees] is a fantastic kid, and normally i'd love to go and celebrate his birthday and hang out with EF's sister and their dad, who i also really enjoy. but the event itself was too personal, too intimate. i mean, really? really??? who does that? who invites an ex-friend to their little brother's birthday party?

so, i lied. i wrote back:

BUMMER! Alas, this Sunday is spoken for. Thanks for the invite!

*sigh*

i hate lying. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE IT!

but the Truly Gutless -- c'est moi -- often must lie in order to avoid potentially painful situations.

but wait! there's more!

the next day, i got a missed call from EF. this time, he didn't leave a message, so -- against my better judgment -- i sent him this text:

what's up?

to which he replied:

not much hey are you still blogging

me:

Some, but not much at the [insert name of political blog to which i contribute] lately. Are you thinking of writing?

EF:

just started something if you wanna check it out. [name of EF's new blog]

o.k.

o.k.

weird, right? i mean, SO WEIRD! and now, a day and a half removed from the whole thing, i find that i can't tell if i'm glad, or if i'm dreading any potential fall-out from the whole thing.

ultimately, tho', what i really think is that i'm thinking too much about it. that is to say, now, as i'm writing this post, i'm thinking a lot about it, and my stomach is churning. truthfully, tho', i hardly tho't about it at all today.

huh.

so, then, maybe this is all just a bs post and there's nothing worth mentioning after all. well! who knew?

*sigh*

how old am i? oh, yeah, that's right: TOO FUCKING OLD! ;-)

peace, babies!

It's strange. Aside from a kinda shitty job where I am made to feel like shit and do shit work for a cheap-ass shit organization that is doing amazing, important, world-changing work, life has been unusually forward-moving lately. I mean, the social life's been crazy-good, the home life is getting good, the family life remains good, and the creative life has been really, really good.

Hm.

Should I be worried?

I'm procrastinating. I really need to do some housework, and today is day five of a five-day holiday break, courtesy of the partnership at the firm where I work. I even told myself and other people (I find being accountable to other people is one of the more effective ways to make sure I get stuff done) that I'd do cleaning...um, well, that I'd do cleaning yesterday; yesterday was the day I was supposed to clean. Supposed to. As in, didn't do it. And then today, I set my alarm to wake up at such an hour that I could get it done today -- nothing major, just vacuum ONE ROOM and dust ONE WINDOWPANE.

*sigh*

I'm a lazy S.O.B.

Anyway, I'm getting restless to get something creative done. Maybe I'll quickly do that minor cleaning, and then my reward will be to work on a new song. I think that'll work out just fine!

Ooh, one more thing before I go: yesterday I used my Christmas bonus from work and bought myself a battery charger for my digital camera; a new battery for my laptop; a Sony PSP; and a game to go with the Sony PSP. Needless to say, the last two items were completely unnecessary and I'm experiencing buyer's remorse.

Damn.

'K., off to vacuum! Peace, babies.

My G,

Thank you for the e-mail about the postcard! When I saw that photo, I was immediately filled with the impulse to hop on a plane and jet away, picking you up en route to that little bit of paradise. Can you imagine? We could water ski and snorkel and swim with dolphins during the days, and then at night we could eat the freshest seafood and drink exotic fruity concoctions and make life lists without fear or hesitation 'cause we know, after all of these years, that we can trust each other with our most fervent hopes. And so I bought the postcard and sent it to you, my dear friend, my G-ski.

I don't know if I've told you about this yet, but a beloved friend of mine is dying of cancer. She's been battling it for 8 years (she was diagnosed when she was in her early 20's). It began as ovarian cancer. She went through chemotherapy, went into remission, but had a recurrence. It had mestastasized to her liver. More chemo, then good news, then bad news, then more chemo, then surgery, then good news followed by more good news followed by budding hope. Then things just "didn't feel right," to use her words, and these Not Right feelings were followed by dread and fear and then, finally, doctor appointments, followed by recurrence, only this time the cancer had metastasized to her brain.

The bad thing about the brain when there's cancer in it: you can't use chemo 'cause of the "blood barrier" surrounding the brain itself, so the only treatment options really are either (1) surgery or (2) radiation or (3) a combination of the two. Dannille had two tumors in her brain. One was inoperable, and after 8 years of treatment, two heart attacks, and a recent spate of seizures, her doctors did not recommend surgery; this meant her only remaining option was radiation. So they scheduled her for five treatments; she only could endure three. After the third (or maybe it was the second), she was so sick that she couldn't stop vomiting, which meant that she couldn't lie still for the radiation treatment, and she -- at long last -- decided that it was enough, already. She was done. She was given a year to live, had a conversation with her now 10-year old daughter, and called in all of us, her Army of Women, to help her go through her writings and thoughts and help organize them into a sort of memoir to leave for her family.

So, that's what I've been doing, my friend. I've been reading the stark and honest thoughts and feelings of this beautiful, intelligent, generous woman who is my family and is dying. She reserves the right to change her mind, to resume treatment, but I'm fairly certain this is it for her. It's been a long, hard journey, for her and her daughter, and she's tired. I do everything I can not to argue with her, but at the same time I try to do everything I can to motivate her to keep fighting. It's an odd and precarious balance to maintain all the time, and I often feel unequal to the task. It's a puzzle worth working, though.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I love you, I'm proud of you and what you're doing, and I wish you happy and well. Especially over the last couple of years, and even more so in recent months, you have been on my mind and I miss you. It is not looking good for me to come see you for your 40th birthday, but I still have hopes for 2010. In the meantime, peace, my friend.

it's christmas eve, and i'm in the middle of watching It's A Wonderful Life. it's strange for me, this holiday, made up of such rich and engrained rituals and traditions, because i am essentially alone. both of my roommates are out of town for the holidays (well, technically only one's out of town; the other one moved back home, and her replacement won't be moving in 'til after christmas). all of my friends are visiting family, or are on vacation somewhere exotic, or are housesitting somewhere and their husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends are keeping them company on this eve of christmas.

i sit in my living room and watch jimmy stewart.

i don't feel lonely, exactly. matter of fact, it's been a really nice thing, having my apartment to myself. (makes me realize how desperately i want my own place. someday...right now, i don't want to leave the ocean.) but i do feel like maybe i'm missing out on something. part of me still thinks maybe i'll try to hit midnight mass somewhere, just 'cause then i wouldn't be alone on this holiday. at the same time, i don't want to do it just for the sake of appearances, which is what it would essentially be. i don't have any real desire to leave the house, but i do wish i'd gotten a real tree instead of my ghetto-fabulous fiber optic table-top tree. (i love my table-top tree, but still...)

anyway, i was thinking about my friend, dannille. she's sick. well, that's an understatement, and an absurd one at that. the truth is she's dying. she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer on january 12, 2001; in a few weeks, it'll be the 8-year anniversary of that fateful, horrible day.

(by the way, as i write this, i'm simulateously watching the movie, and had this thought: you see george and mary bailey on their wedding night, having just given away all but $2 of their gift money in order to keep the ol' family s&l alive, and you have to wonder whether any love outside of 1940's hollywood could possibly be that generous or strong. it's nice to think so.)

dannille's cancer metastasized, first to her liver, then to her intestines, then -- and most decisively and inoperably -- to her brain. that's where she's at right now: living with at least two brain tumors, one of which is inoperable. i'll say it again: inoperable. what a bumbling word for such a definitive status. she initially tried to do radiation treatments. (chemotherapy wasn't an option; something about the "blood bag" surrounding the brain which prevents the chemicals from reaching the brain.) she was scheduled for five treatments, but only made it through three, 'cause the treatment made her so violently ill that she couldn't stop vomiting and shaking.

she decided enough was enough.

she ceased treatment.

the doctors said that early tests showed that the treatment she did manage to undergo appeared to have shrunk the tumors, so who knows? in the meantime, she reserves the right to change her mind about ceasing treatment; she may decide eventually to resume. she doesn't want to leave her newly-turned-ten-years-old daughter to the not-so-tender mercies of this world. (i don't blame her.) the strange thing is that for eight of those ten years, her daughter has been living with this vicious cycle of diagnosis/treatment/recovery/re-diagnosis. i wonder: what would it be like for that little girl to have her mother living the kind of life most of us complain about having.

anyway.

i've been going back and reading dannille's blog postings, anonymously, 'cause i'm too cowardly to tell her about this site you're reading right now where i spill my own selfish, self-important nonsense. her writing is so honest, and it's scary to read it all, 'cause she and i are good friends, and have known each other for years, but somehow i have managed to remain ignorant of the entirety of what she's been through.

truthfully, i think she's been trying to protect all of us from the stark reality; i think she doesn't want us to be sad, either for her or ourselves. and i think she doesn't want to come across as weak, or for anyone to feel sorry for her. which makes all of these writings she's been doing all the more remarkable.

anyway, i just lost steam in writing this post. sorry, kiddies. more another time. my brain is much too full.