Nov. 9th, 2003

morrigirl: (Default)
"Do you know it's estimated by the year 2000 one out of every three people will be a member of my family?"
- Laura Chartoff.

Seems like that statement, in only slightly altered form, will soon apply to the Criscuolo clan. Apparently my father is getting married. For the fourth time. After swearing he would never walk down the aisle again. But wait, it gets better. Dad said he decided to get re-married because he's tired of being alone; because he hates coming home every night to an empty house. Just so happens that Jean, his wife-to-be, lives in a different town, has her own house, and her own life that she has no intention of giving up. Dad knows this. He is the exact same way: he likes his house, his town, and doesn't want to make any big changes to it. When asked how the two of them planned to work out the lving arrangements, Dad is reported to have said, "We like the living arrangements the way they are."

...

Is anyone else scratching their heads at this point? Okay Dad, lemme see if I'm following you: you want to get married AGAIN because you are tired of coming home to an empty house, yet you and your wife plan on keeping completely separate resdences in completely different towns. This leads me to wonder WHY THE FLYING FUCK YOU ARE EVEN BOTHERING TO GET MARRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!??????

I mean Jesus Christ what's the point of getting married if it isn't going to change anything? Why spend the money for a ring and a ceremony if you're just gonna continue to carry on the way you always have? Why go through all the trouble if ultimately it isn't going to provide you with the thing you want I. E. someone to come home to at night? I must be missing something here.

Anyway, this means I'm going to inherit another band of step-siblings. Not sure how many yet, but I do know that the youngest is named Carla. If she's the same age as me I think I'll have to kill her.

And speaking of siblings I had a mighty interesing revelation the other day. I was observing myself talking to cute boys at the circ desk, and I became aware of how much I don't flirt. Well...okay I guess we knew that already. I've never been good at flirting and try to do it as little as possible. Instead I talk to guys just like...a person. I talk about movies, and books. I ask about their interests, thier families, their girlfriends. I'm much more interested in finding out about them as people then as potential mates. Does that make sense? What finally dawned on me is WHY I do this.

It's connected to the fact that I have brothers. Three in fact, and they all kick ass. And my way of interacting with men is based on how I interact with them. We all know Mike is like my best friend on earth. My relationship with him tops every other sibling relationship I've ever come across. We are similar enough to thoroughly enjoy each others company, but different enough to continue surprising ourselves. And when I think of guys I'd like to...get to know better shall we say, I want to have a similar sort of repore with them. I want to be able to be myself with them, the way I'm able to be myself with Mike.

So when talking with guys, even guys I "like," I tend to treat them like...brothers! That's the only way I really know how to interact with guys, on this totally level and completely desexualized field. That would explain why so many guys say they think of me as a sister, and why I think of so many of so many of them as little brothers. Would also explain why so many of my ex's were unable to love me in a romantic sense, and so many of them were adament about remaining friends afterwards. They all liked me as a person, but I simply wasn't a viable as a romantic interest. Makes me wonder how heavily the incest taboo has played into my sex life. But that's a rumination for another time.

Didn't go to see the Eels last night. Apart from having a difficult time remembering how to get to Warsaw, I was just too damn tired. I fell asleep at 9:00 PM. In my clothes. With the overhead light on.

Work was it's typically lack lustre self yesterday. We finally have a new Saturday student aid. His name is Dimitri and he has already managed to get on my bad side. I'm tempted to hex him just so I can watch him suffer for the next few weeks.

Sebastien has decided I need to read Kafka, so he lent me his copy of the complete stories, and marked off all the ones I MUST read. That man is single handedly gonna keep me in music and reading material. Good on him. I feel kinda bad though because I'd like to give him something in return. Ya know, recommend a decent book or CD or whatever. But from what little I know of his tastes, I don't think I have anything he'd like. Can't find any short stories, novels, or albums I think he'd really be able to get into. Pisses me off because I LOVE sharing music and books with people. I just hate that he's being so generous to me and I can't hand anything back to him.

Ugh. That reminds me....I was gonna write a nice long rant about how no one knows how to write a decent depression memoir these days. But I think I'm all typed out for the moment. It'll have to wait till the next entry.

Carla
morrigirl: (Default)
A link to the story I've been wanting to re-read ever since I started my job. Everybody has a librarian fantasy.

http://www.randomhouse.com/boldtype/0798/bender/sstory1.html

And here's another one by Bender that I'm fond of. It's called "Call my Name"

http://webdelsol.com/NorthAmReview/NAR/nr3-ab.htm

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