Well.
It's been a long few days. I was lucky enough to spend saturday night and all of sunday with Mary. My favorite moment was likely when Mary joined me in a bad, arrhythmic dance that i had started. I has to be admitted, she was doing better than I at keeping time, I believe due to her Brazilian half, (Which was imported at great expense.) Perhaps it was due to her that Barney was so inexorably drawn to attack our ankles as fiercely as he did. Sunday morning brought voicemail that indicated a fair likelihood of monday blowing. (Sucking?) Deann was unable to make it, for good reason, so I ended up pulling a 16 hour day. Tiring, to say the least. I stayed over with Tony and Erica, further proving in the process that Tony and I belong to that same set of Seth iterations that seem to populate the world in alarming number. I then opened the store, running the shift smoothly enough that, with the consent of my coworkers, I was able to duck out slightly early. (Props to Kayla, for enabling this to the greatest degree. Thanks.) I then wove my way home with the benefit of the stimulatory effects of 2x3 shots of espresso. I then took a bath, took a nap, took another bath, found that I could inexpensively load episodes of "This American Life" on Mary's iPod, and ran some errands.
I rented "The Life Aquatic," purchased a beaujolais, and settled in to watch the one, drink the other, and eat what seems to be 1/2 pound of cheese and bread.
i should point out that films in general seem to have the property of ducking right under my defences, plunging deep into whatever my unconscious is. The consequences is that I can abruptly and bewilderingly find myself sobbing, unsure why.
Wes Anderson has an excellent grasp ofthe comic tragedy of our existence. I can only guess that this is whyI enjoy his films so much. I think I feel that perhaps this is where the theistics andI diverge. They focus on the positive, and take comfort in the grand design. I focus on the tragically unfortunate, and take a deep emotional pleasure in seeing the personally majestic manifest in spite of the overall meaninglessness.
In feeling pain, you experience the joy of knowing you're alive.
Ah, I grow melancholy. Time to sleep, if not dream, and awake, if not happily.
A few notes, first.
I will touch on the first hard evidence that the Bush Administration intentionally interpreted data to justify the war later.
Mother;s Day has come and gone. I love my Mother, and cannot express how much I love her. But this Mother's day, I thought more on someone who wasn't quite a surrogate mother, and wasn't quite a friend. I don't know. I do know this, though. I really did love her very much, and I really do miss her far more than I can say.
I wish I had gotten to say goodbye, Judy.
Love, Seth.
P.S. I'll look to Marty. No worries.
'Night