baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Guitars, Underwear and Lesser Waterways Well, as always, I'm freezing my ass off despite the fact that I'm in a climate controlled office building, am surrounded by a large number of heat-generating computers and, unfortunately, fully clothed. This chill has become a constant in my life-and I often wonder just how long it's been a companion of mine. I wasn't always this cold. I believe I was warm when I lived in my mother's womb. You know...embryonic fluids, my mom's fatty tissues, the lack of fully formed nerve cells-all minor, little details-yet extremely conducive to a nice, secure, warm existence. That was 33 years ago, buddy. That warmth has since been replaced with a sort of metaphysical frostbite: a chill residing somewhere between the physical and the emotional. And yes, I'm nervous. Last night, as Girl-Unit showered off the remnants of a hot, dusty day in the gardening department, I read Tiffany Drever�s Lesser Waterways; a bittersweet story about a woman, a man, and a man�s wife. And, to further clarify, my companion on the insomnia-inflicted nights of the past few months has been John Updike's Licks of Love-a book of short stories all orbiting around the planet of infidelities and doomed marriages. Baby-I sense a pattern here-and it's forming a noose around my neck. Somehow, I'm lured to these stories-they communicate a certain feeling to me-one that goes slightly beyond my usual love of good writing. Although I've never cheated on Girl-Unit, I can't honestly say that I haven't considered life without her. Sometimes, my thoughts have strayed so far outside the usual bounds of fantasy that I feel as if I've emotionally cheated on her-an act of betrayal which could be argued is as bad as, say, indulging in a one-night stand. And tonight, well, I sense an argument coming on. A friend just called and basically warned me that an early afternoon conversation with Girl-Unit did not go well and that I may be the target of its remnants when I walk through my front door. Funny. I always seem to be getting in trouble over things I had nothing to do with. So, now I hear the crack of emotional eggshells under my feet-and I face the remainder of my evening with dread. We've had a lot of these senseless arguments lately. Arguments that rise out of somebody else's actions-a misinterpretation of my actions-a misinterpretation of her actions...and I have to admit that I'm growing tired of them I always thought that my love for Girl-Unit went far beyond the minor scrapes of these little arguments-but in all honesty, I grow weary of the blood they draw and the scabs they form. But, again, despite these arguments, it's hard for me to imagine a life more comfortable than the one I have. This morning, Girl-Unit and I started our day on opposite ends of the sofa-reading our books and sharing a cat between our laps. An ideal moment; one that epitomizes the best of our relationship. But, unfortunately, while she was reading her book on quotes, I was emotionally entangled in the previously mentioned Lesser Waterways. I re-read crucial passages-as if searching for something that would explain my wanderlust and insecurity and fears and chill. But, all I found between the lines of the pages was a certain kinship; a kinship to the characters in the story-their justifications, their reasons, their nobility and their faults. Once finished reading, I looked up at Girl-Unit and felt those same waves of guilt crashing over me again. Guilt for the way I feel, and for a future indiscretion that may or may not happen. Just for the record, I doubt I'll ever stray. I'm well acquainted with the power of guilt. I'm not immune. Maybe, I should lighten up a bit and peruse, hmm, some of my old Far Side or Calvin and Hobbes books instead. Maybe, I could watch some old Bugs Bunny cartoons and inject a little levity into my overdramatic little brain. There are lots of maybe's, and no definites.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________ What is definite however is my upcoming vacation-one week away from the cubicle with no real plans but to cradle my guitar in my lap and to press the record button on my four-track. I find it funny how people cram every moment of their vacation with plans and forced good times-as if good memories can be scheduled like a cruise or dinner date. Me, I prefer to spend my vacations at home-I work hard to have that little two bedroom-one bath monthly payment and I love having the freedom to roam its hallways in my undies if I desire. Yes-well-that is too much information isn't it? Oh well. Serves you right for reading this long and rambling of an entry, Mr. Mister. Maybe, someday I'll travel to far away places and meet far away people. Maybe someday, I'll find the cure to this annoying wanderlust inflicting my brain. Maybe. For now, a week of playing the guitar in my underwear will have to do. 9:32 p.m. - 2001-05-15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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