I have to admit that, come Friday morning, I was feeling a little depressed about this situation with Eve. Questions were in my mind: Why did she write me a letter, only to have me burn it? What was the significance of such a cryptic rite? What did it have to do with the two of us?
I went home and cleaned up for a job interview. I'm looking to get into something more visual, so I've been sending my resume out into the real world.
I hadn't had any sleep. Last week was a new record for me-- ten hours' sleep in five days. Not good. I was delirious, and yet I think I did rather well on the interview... despite the fact that I was 45 minutes late, no thanks to the fucking bus.
Is it me, or is it that ever since the last MTA strike the bus drivers just don't seem to give a shit anymore? I noticed that. After that last one, which lasted for a spell, you'd think that the drivers would be somewhat happier. Not only are they still miserable, but now they are more late than they have ever been. Really, I should post that in another blog...
I was supposed to go and see Katie's play in Hollywood, but by the time I got to The Garage, I was dead tired. I didn't think I could make it through a two hour play without snoozing. Eve called me up and asked me if I was going to see the play, and I told her no.
Eve showed up after work, herself a bit tired and worn out from the stress of her week. I didn't say much to her, but by the time we were ready to go home she and I were feeling cool. Gypsy, one of the shop patrons, had brought along some Coke and whiskey. He kept the drinks coming, especially since it was freezing cold in The Garage.
Eve and I got pretty tipsy. We having having fun again. I resigned myself to not understanding her motivations, because which of us mortal men can claim as much when it comes to the opposite sex?
On the drive home, we started talking about, of all things, astral projection. And she mentioned something to me that suddenly made everything come into perspective.
"You know, it's all mind over matter," she said as she drove me home. "That book you gave me on out-of-body experiences really got me interested in using meditation to control my body. Like last night. I lied down and willed my period to start."
I almost bursted out laughing. "You tried to mentally direct your menstruation? That's a first."
"I think it worked," she said. "I was a week late, and it was the only thing I could do."
"A week late?"
"Yeah," she said, lighting a cigarette. "Until last night, I was sweatin' it!"
And then I understood. The letter, the burning of said letter, the insistence that there was no love involved in our sexual escapades... I wanted to say something but I thought better of it. I wasn't angry or upset at all-- in fact, I felt an intense empathy for her. I know she doesn't want kids, because I am the same way. Most likely, had she become pregnant, I would respect anything she wished, and most likely she would wish for an end to the pregnancy. But it doesn't mean that it wouldn't make her wig out over it anyway, and it doesn't mean that she knows that I feel the same way as she does.
She had mentioned in her letter (from what I can recall) all the pain and hurt I've had in my own life, and I think she thought that I would be saddened by her decision to not have my child. Or maybe she thought that it was the last thing I needed to hear at this point-- it was definitely the last thing she wanted to hear, that's for sure. All I know is, I breathed a sigh of relief when she reassured me that she was on the rag.
She dropped me off and gave me a sloppy, wet kiss. If it weren't for the fact that she had to work on the weekend to make up for her court appearances, I would've ravished her right then and there. But then again, maybe I wouldn't have.
The next day, as Eve toiled at work, I was rehearsing with the band for Monday night's show. Katie showed up, late as usual. She was wearing light shades over her eyes. She revealed that she had a case of pink eye, and informed me that the previous night's performance was almost botched by the lead actress forgetting her lines. Katie's story was cute, but I found myself wondering how she got pink eye.
The rehearsal went over great, if a bit long. Four hours is a lot of time to devote, but we needed it. Then I went and met Eve back at The Garage.
After working until 11pm, Eve and I decided to pass up dinner with Paulie and the usual crew so that we could have some time alone. We participated in our usual drill-- X-Files DVDs, a 12-pack of Newcastle, and some marijuana. We started making out like teenagers in the backseat of daddy's car. But this time, she wouldn't let me "take things too far" because she was having her period. And I understood-- besides, there's more than one way to skin a cat, or so the saying goes...
She spent the night, and in the morning there was the hazy thrill of lying in bed, listening to KCSN's Meet The Beatles John Lennon retrospective while Eve was lying next to me. For some reason, I get very teary-eyed whenever contemplating the senselessness of Lennon's murder, which was twenty-four years ago this week, and it made the moment seem a bit profound. To be with her, in the morning, keeping each other warm, being lazy in bed and listening to the song "Imagine" or any number of Lennon classics... it was a good feeling, a genuine emotion, something for the books.
We ate breakfast at Andre's, watched some football on my TV, and then Eve went to her mother's house for her aunt's birthday party. As for me, I had made plans earlier in the week to help out an online acquaintance named Anne Marie. I met her on My Space.com, and she had put up an outcall on the My Space bulletin board for anyone who could help her move from Glendale to Hollywood.
Despite the rain, I decided to make good on my commitment. She agreed to pick me up, and I would drive the U-Haul truck she rented back to her place, where her small circle of close friends would be assisting.
Anne Marie looked just as lovely as her My Space profile picture, but her hair was a different shade. She has luminous green eyes and a fetching smile. I commended her on taking a chance on a total stranger. We talked about astrology-- she is heavy into it, and very knowledgable on the subject. She also has a brother who is a cartoonist and an animator-- here's a link to his personal site.
I met her friends at the Glendale spot. They were a great collection of characters, all of them smart and well-read, politically aware and culturally up-to-date. They accepted me openly and made me feel at ease, even after I made the boneheaded move (something that is a bit mandatory with me these days) of breaking the tail lights on someone's truck while trying to navigate the U-Haul rental through a narrow parking lot.
Anne Marie treated all of us to dinner to show her appreciation for our help, and then she drove me home. I showed her my apartment, and she got to meet Otis, who didn't fail in both making a dramatic entrance from under the couch and charming her.
To top it all off, Anne Marie gave me three kerosene-fueled tiki torches that she was going to throw away. I don't know what I'll do with them yet, but we'll see.
You may be wondering why I volunteered to help a stranger move house. Well, for one thing, I actually like helping people move, believe it or not. The sense of accomplishment is splendid. The physical activity is a bit of a work-out, but in a healthy way. Also, it was a way to meet someone new. On sites like Friendster and My Space, people amass contacts that they never intend to follow through, so I figured I would start by trying to make genuine connections with anyone who was game. Anne Marie was game, and I think I might have a new friend, at the very least.
I also invited Anne Marie and some of her friends to see the band play later on tonight. If she can't make it, I understand, just as I understood Eve's reasons for her strange letter-writing ritual, just as I am slowly beginning to understand so many things that are happening to me. I am shedding skins, leaving a lot of things in my past where they belong. But I am also taking elements of the past and trying to make them work in the here and now.
My rehabilitation continues...
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