My Nouvelle Vague

So, I've discovered the problem- I've become a romantic. I don't know how it happened. It's so unlike me. I'm kinda depressed about it.

It all started around 1 AM last night. I was flipping through my DVR looking to delete movies I was no longer interested in, and also something to watch (Bye, Bye "Puppet Master" and "Hellraiser III"). The available space on my DVR is laughable, though for those of you who know how many movies are on my Netflix queue, you would hardly be surprised.
[side note: did you know there is a maximum number of movies you can have in your queue at any one time? I do. Twice]

So I decided to watch "Toi & Moi" because it had been collecting dust in my DVR since I got cable 7 or 8 months ago and it was only 90 mins. It's the typical romantic comedy as told en francais: Guy and Girl bumble back and forth until on day, just as one is about to leave, the other grabs and kisses them full on the mouth. Depending on what film you're watching, they are either long lost loves ("A Christmas Tale", "Love Me If You Dare"), have never met before ("Amelie", "Happenstance", "Y tu Mama Tambien", "la Dolce Vita"), or one, or both, are married or in relationships ("Indochine", "Love Songs"). The last being the case here (and I think very French indeed). I squealed in delight at this very act! Like, a girl.

My life is the sad, poorly written indie film you turn off 15 minutes in; when it longs to be un film français. Passion. Heartache. Betrayal. Redemption.

We live in a bubble. Never socializing outside our group, we wouldn't even know how to begin, driving everywhere, afraid to eat alone. We, I, am closed to new opportunities. Instead, I sit in near dark, drinking Whiskey, and writing in my notebook. I get hung up on things that never were and completely blasé about those that have happened. A French film would be great for me- I can be self-indulgent, depressed, smoke. At a crucial point, not too far into the narrative, a lovely, handsome, loner type guy will show up and we'll walk awkwardly down the street or drink coffee in a cafe. He could even turn out to be someone I already know, now we're in the right place to admit our feelings to one another...

How can one person be capable of holding grudges and complete apathy at the same time? I can, although it is always safer to assume I'm over whatever "disagreement" we may have had, rather than believe I still harbour some ill will. Most likely, I didn't care either way in the first place.

For that's the truth of the matter. I am selfish and vain. I don't care for the misfortune of strangers. I care only about what effects my directly, and even then only in the moment. I always wondered if you could be borderline sociopathic, but the DSM-IV doesn't recognize that condition so I guess not.

And that, is why I must live in a movie, a foreign film, where relations are much different. People aren't weighed down with empty talk simply to fill the air. Everything that's said has weight. More is often said in the space between words then in the words themselves. In this fantasy, I'll have a casual job that affords me to work from home, and live over a grocer, and spend the evenings sitting at home or in a cafe drinking and smoking and arguing with friends. It seems like something I should be able to have here, in reality. Yet, I spend my evenings as described above, or if I do go out, the conversation usually stays "safe" and "simple". The last time I tried to get in a metaphysical argument, the other person left (and not just the room).

C'est ma seul rêve, ma rêve isolé.

L'amour in B flat

It seems I have been talking about relationships and dating a lot recently. It becomes the topic of all conversations and many of the blogs I read. Unfortunately, I have nothing of significance or insight to contribute. I think I have been on 2 official dates my whole life, and one of them doesn’t really count since I was already dating the guy. Part of the problem is no one asks me. If you like me, just say you like me. Ask me out. The worst that will happen is you will flatter me and I will very graciously decline. (Stop laughing! I can be gracious!)

The other part of the problem is that I hate beginnings. Everyone seems to love them, movies are made in their honor, but for me- they can suck it. I much prefer the middle. It’s comforting. You already know where you stand. You have learned some of the bad habits, and good ones as well. Your friends are used to the idea and treat him/her in a respectable manner. Perhaps they even like him! Middles are where it’s at.

The other problem with beginnings is I get distracted pretty easily by shiny objects. I get bored. You must move in a forward fashion to keep from drowning (or to get to the oasis that is “the middle”).

[side note: worst analogy ever. I think I threw up a little in my mouth just typing it out]

Call when you say you are going to call. I don’t care if it’s everyday. On that same note, I don’t have to see you every day either. Sure, it could be nice; but don’t you have your own friends? I know I do, and I would like to hang out with them without your presence. How am I expected to gossip about you if you are there?

What I hate the most, if I can be honest, is feeling like a “girl”. I hate it. Vulnerability has no place in the outside world. I don’t want to sit around waiting for the call that is supposed to come, but doesn’t. As a walking contradiction: I am reminiscent of a time I didn’t even live through. There is no dating or courting process anymore. I’ve had more boyfriends then I’ve had dates proves it. I long for those times. Why are they so uncommon? I want to be asked out and picked up and taken out and shown a good time. I don’t want to pay for anything on the first date (though I don’t mind splitting later or going on the whoever-asked-pays rule). I want him to walk on the outside, hold my hand. I want to live in 1954.