this is seriously the worst two weeks ever. lisa, if i didn't have you to sit through it with me, i think i'd completely lose my sanity. *sigh* i just want to scream really loudly. and throw something. blarg.

on a better note, congrats jenn "i'm fucking perfect" shen on google in NY. you are utterly awesome and you make me hate every tiny bit of your goddamn perfection more with each coming minute. bitch.

you now owe me two dinners. and i'm not talking papaya's hot dogs on the corner, we're talking tavern on the green, fancy schmancy fifth ave high roller shit, urban trendy soho swanky hang out's.

i love you babe!

i tossed and turned for a straight hour last night. i must have stumbled into the bathroom at least three times in the middle of the night, damn all that water. i threw the pillow i was holding onto the floor, not knowing i'd taken down my nightstand with it. i almost chucked clancy (my bear). (thank god, i was somewhat awake before i did that) to top it off, i woke up, an hour earlier than my alarm in a cold sweat.

who knew i could get like this?

fuck that, fuck them, i'm never doing that shit again.

but...for now, relief. it's finally over.

now...pray. and beg. and pray, pray, pray.

in the meantime, i'll search for a new career. or, a career to begin with.

i was this close to buying flowers today.

fresh orchids. beautiful white tulips. purple irises, the way van gogh would have imagined. small, precious daisies. a sunflower. or two. or three. nothing fancy. no long stemmed red roses -- no, that would be...too aristocratic, horribly mismatched in this sea of simplicity.

i've been living a lie.

all this time i claim to hate flowers. they're useless. pointless. impractical. a waste of money. who would spend $50 on a bouquet that would die in three days when one can spend it on --what? half a dolce & gabbana wife beater?

but there's just something about a fresh pot of flowers. and the way they wrap it in old newspapers at those cute flower stands in the middle of a fast-paced city. how they illuminate a room. the aura that lingers. the softness of petals when you graze your fingers across them.

reminscent of romance. dating. one month anniversaries. surprise visits at work. midnight deliveries with mint chocolate chip ice cream. breakfast in bed.

like i said, i was this close to buying flowers today.

then i thought, what good would it do me. i'd rather buy them for someone special.

the greek word eros denotes 'want', 'lack', 'desire for that which is missing'. the lover wants what he does not have. it is by definition, impossible for him to have what he wants if, as soon as it is had, it is no longer wanting.

and

all our desires are contradictory, like the desire for food. i want the person i love to love me. if he is however, totally devoted to me he does not exist any longer and i cease to love him. and as long as he is not totally devoted to me he does not love me enough. hunger and repletion.

-simone weil

both from anne carson | eros the bittersweet