Random neuron firing, lame philosophy, literary pontificating, movies, sex, clothes & other femme stuff

Tuesday, May 18, 2004

A drunken, overhung, busy, delirious, improvident, emotion-ramifying, obligation-yanking, slumber-flustering passion-bronco of a weekend. Sloppy, chin-dribbling guzzles of sleep snatched thirstily in places not my bed--the rank trash-museum my Honda's rear seat during the school fair, the darkened-recroom couch of Procrustes at Greta's family party, the Prairie Settle (boasting rare Grapes-of-Wrath-period indurated cushioning) in my ex's living room.

One highlight. Max's piano recital, Saturday afternoon. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but he's pestilently cute. That's not just parental bias. The contrast between the audience's oohs and chuckles over him and its smiles of dutiful patience towards the others, nearly all more advanced than he, embarrassed me. The only kid who joyously nodded his head to the beat as he played, the only one indeed who didn't look painfully constipated, he gave himself over to the music so wholly the entire audience was unconsciously nodding along in rapt unison--not unlike that orgasmic George-Shearing-performance "IT" moment in On the Road, except I don't think the piece Shearing performed to such an ecstatic response was "The Dancing Sailor."

We finally had the long-awaited movie-trivia (Trivial Pursuit Silver Screen Edition) night at Mia's Saturday night. It was Mia, Eliza, & I against Sherman, Faviola (who didn't like being Meryl and whom I refuse to call Benny or whatever it was she was urging at Eliza's fabulous party a couple of weeks ago that I never blogged about), and this really cute, slightly fey, clever young-looking prof in the Chinese department, named (here) Hank. (Tragically, Greta had to stay at her parents' house that night, because she was wanted to help prepare a big party on Sunday.) Three of us either had been or were film professors--and the others certainly remembered many a detail that the supposed professionals didn't--so it was a really laughingly hard-fought fun game. Of course, our team one. Everyone was drinking beer except me, so I kept a bottle of Zinfandel by my side all night (unfortunately, it was not the same bottle throughout the evening). I got predictably kissy and touchy with everyone within reach. Poor Eliza and Sherman bore the brunt of it. As we were leaving, I gave Eliza a really unconstrained kiss & it made me happy that she was, well, very polite in enduring it good humoredly. I tried to do the same with Sherman but he told me to respect his boundaries with such unconcealed irritation that I slunk away mortified and wounded.

Kissing people rashly can sometimes get you into trouble.

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