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[04 Mar 2002|11:24am] |
Eric's personality is like an impressionist painting. From far away, or upon cursory inspection, the painting looks like an ordinary scene. As you get closer, however, the picture begins to grow more fuzzy until you are left with small, discrete blobs of color. Likewise, his memories and personal quirks are more a collection of discrete attributes than a complete personality. When I first met him, he was a likable, if ordinary, guy. As I got to know him, however, some of the gaps in his world view and his life began to show. For instance, Eric has no career plans, has never seriously thought about religion, and does not know many small details about life in general ("Chevrolet? What's that? Is it French?"). The closest thing he has to friends are the people he plays racquetball with.
Now he wants to keep our daughter?
My dreams of making it big as an actress are slowly crumbling to dust. I've been in a few plays and done a few student movies, but that break never seems to come along. Maybe it's time for me to settle on another career.
A walk to the beach clears my mind. I like when I see people there, but today it was empty, but beautiful. Some images from where I live.
( more here. )
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[24 Feb 2002|12:21pm] |
The sky overhead is like a television tuned to a dead channel.
I only dance 3 nights a week and I haven't seen Jane in over a month, thanks to Eric's bribes to the peace force. I don't dare to visit right now, but I'm missing her childhood. I'll have enough money soon enough to make those rules change...I wonder how many lira (or better yet, dollars) I can trade some of these travel vouchers for. I don't care what he says or does... going to see Mr. LeThuy on Friday to investigate my options. I think I can pin a "charge of conspiracy to commit seditious vandalism" on Eric, and make it stick.
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| passing a mirror |
[24 Feb 2002|11:26am] |
| [ |
mood |
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awakening |
] |
| [ |
music |
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New Power Generation - Prince |
] |
What do I see? Constance peering back at me through the silvered glass.
Hazel eyes, some signs of age showing around the edges, still easily covered with a little makeup.
Chestnut hair with a few strands of grey at the roots. I'm due for another refresher.
Skin tanned to the color of creamed coffee, with a some strong tan lines across the hips. Dark freckles on the shoulders and arms.
A decent body, perhaps a little extra weight in the hips left from carrying Jane (it's coming off -- one of the few perqs of dancing at Mary's)
My head is swaying to Tori. The bathroom has deep green tile on the floor, white on the walls to waist level. Pumpkin-colored wallpaper extends from there to the popcorn white roof...it peels where the rain-leak lets the water in.
This place is good for flexing my muscles in English. I will make a point of not lapsing into patois. I have noticed a huge number of Americans as well as the usual British coming our way these days... perhaps we are the "new Prague" after all. Fine by me...They have money.
"Pardon me for living,
But this is my world too.
I can't help it if what's cool to us,
Might be strange to you."
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[16 Feb 2002|01:53pm] |
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Tracking perceptions.
Still a faint shadow, a glimmer in the corner.
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