e-life

I still wince when I open up my accounts and I see the "no new mail" message, especially after a Saturday night and I know my guess list has been hopping.

Is it my age?

It has occurred to me that people may also be inclined to view Facebook as the place for a more interactive social life in terms of commenting on each others' posts, and hence there is not that sense of obligation when it comes to a secondary site such as LiveJournal. Whereas I am left starving for some attention and e-love.

I have been trying to look at my blogging as just a means to capture what strikes my fancy on my e-travels and my reading, so that it does not matter if no one else cares to play along with me, but I obviously have not succeeded in fully internalizing this understanding. It still hurts to be just about as lonely in my e-life as in my real life.

a movie

I finally managed to successfully record a movie. What good timing! I hope this becomes normalized again. I finished my last "Chuck" episode last night, and I am not going to be able to order season three next payday. I am going to have to wait a while before I can pick the show back up.

Sylvia

The second part of Sylvia’s date with Bob. She is feeling very good about herself, coming into full womanhood, on top of the world, the promise of a great life opening up in front of her.

_ _ _

After the movie, Bob and I walked out in the crowd, up and down the Boston streets for hours. We didn’t talk. I was alone, yet his presence was a safe-guard... someone to lead me by the hand. A boy, he would serve. There was no need to banter; we know each other too well for that. I let the lights and the faces come to me. I let the nerves tap out signals to my brain center. I let go. The pink green, and yellow neons flashed on and off with a definite rhythm, each with its own particular tempo. Together they screamed out a syncopated color rhapsody. The faces; the cafes; the speed of light, steel cars. Swift; quick. Red; green. Flash; off. Stop; go. I let Bob lead me. I didn’t look crossing streets. I stared at the people as we passed. Sometimes they stared back for an instant, but then flicked their gaze away, embarrassed. The music jazzed out from the street cafes, and the sailors were like extras in a technicolor musical. The movie house itself had been a palace with tiers of glittering glass chandeliers, plush carpets and gleaming silver mirrors. So I walk along, loving, narcissus-like, my reflection in store windows, in the chromium on cars, superimposed on all we passed. There I was, tall, light-haired, in a kelly-green coat, a full black taffeta skirt.

-- Sylvia Plath, Journals 1950

the elephant ears

Getting back in the habit of watering the elephant ears every day. Another full harvest has started up. They are at that cute ankle-high stage.

February 24, 1991

I think that the greater stress comes from the harshness of the fact that I have so little with which to bargain in the market. One may say that I was built for humility: physically inferior, visually impaired, and somewhat dull myself.

===============

March 25, 2012

Yeah, yeah yeah, I only wish I had made my peace with this fact of life during my high school years. I know I have quite a few iterations of this woe-be-me theme to come across in my Old Journal.

March 8, 1991

The clearest sign that I am not behaving well may be my growing, self-imposed alienation from my family. I am attempting to switch night and day. During the night I have the house mostly to myself. I prefer to avoid my family as much as possible.

============

March 25, 2012

This strategy was obviously doomed to fail.

I was still struggling to come to terms with this new stage of life, working through some uncertainty over having yet to accept that this was not going to be just a short-term thing, but a way of life for me.

food out on the patio

Fuck, so much for leaving food out on the patio overnight. Another cat. At least its a cuter one: a lot more white with the grey, sort of calico-ish but with white and light-grey for colorings.