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Dec. 26th, 2005 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_belle_laideJeremy came over last night for dinner, and ended up staying until around 1:30. We were at my parents' and we basically all just talked the entire night about everything. Everything including politics, religion (or the lack thereof,) why creationism shouldn't be taught in secular schools, quantum physics and reality, aliens, time travel, orgies, music, children, the war, the economy, jobs... the list goes on. Needless to say, it was a long conversation. I congratulate my parents for laughing along with Jeremy as he told his self-deprecating tales of debauchery instead of judging him.
Only once, when I left for a moment to check on Pendragon and the birds, did Jeremy apparently bring up the letter he'd written my a few years ago, and he asked my parents how I felt about that. Now, I've been nothing but perfeclty clear on that subject from the time he first sent the letter until now, but I guess Jeremy's Mom told him that I had told her something different. She told him that I felt a certain way about Jeremy. I have always liked Jeremy's mom and respected her, but I thought that was a meddlesome thing to do, especially as it has a chance of hurting Jeremy by leading him on. I never said such a thing. I said I'd always love him. Love does not equal "in love and wanting to get married."
Aside from that, which I didn't know about until today when I went to ask my Dad to put together my awesome new telescope, did I even hear about it.
I'm always a little depressed when both Halloween and Christmas are over, because I don't have anything cool to look forward to for a while and I know that work is going to suck for the next few weeks and I will have to work extra. I guess right now I can look forward to going back to Kung Fu next week. And then towards the end of February, there's the trip to Florida. Jeremy is maybe possibly thinking about giving consideration to the idea of coming along with us. That'd be so cool; he hasn't been to Disneyworld since the last time we went together, which was in May of '00.
Today I cleaned the house a bit, cleaned all the birds while listening to Leonard Cohen's Dear Heather. My favorite song on that one is the track, "Because Of". It's short, so I can write the lyrics out here:
Because of a few songs
Wherein I spoke of their mystery
Women have been exceptionally kind to my old age
They make a secret place in their busy lives
And they take me there
They become naked in their different ways
And they say,
'Look at me, Leonard
Look at me one last time.'
Then they bend over the bed
And cover me up
Like a baby that is shivering.
You know, there's a kind of smirk to that song, but it's not a mean or self-indulgent one. It doesn't feel like he's patting himself on the back over it. Rather it's kind of humble and sort of funny too; he's almost smirking at himself. But the thing that struck me the most about it (aside from the fact that his voice is sex on that track, intentionally or not,) is how completely true it is. The first time I heard him sing it, my only thought, kind of breathless, was, "My god, how does he know?" But then, he's a poet; I guess it's his job to know.
Then the next thought was another question: Why is it 'one last time'? Is that because the women are so busy, sometimes feeling used up and like no one looks at them anymore, really looks, the way a poet can? Or because he thinks he's getting too old and won't be looking much longer? (I could go all English Major and discuss the metaphorical meaning of "look", too, but I'm sure no one thinks that Leonard Cohen is peeking through windows all over the world.)
Either way, it inspired my icon. Well, obviously.
On the subject of the relations of men and women, here's another thing I noticed being on the stupid personals sites for a while: a lot of men are looking for a girl who is "sweet and caring." I guess that's to be expected, and maybe I'm overthinking it, and maybe the men who write that mean exactly what they're saying because maybe they've met women who were cruel. I consider myself sweet to the people who are sweet to me. I like to be kind to them and make them laugh, and I hope that I please the people I like. I consider myself caring because, well, I care about a lot of people. Maybe it manifests itself in the form of neurotic worry, but hey, I do care. But part of me wonders if "sweet" means "giggly" and "caring" means "doormat." I'm probably wrong. I hope I am.
I wish the skies would clear so that I could play with my new toy.
Only once, when I left for a moment to check on Pendragon and the birds, did Jeremy apparently bring up the letter he'd written my a few years ago, and he asked my parents how I felt about that. Now, I've been nothing but perfeclty clear on that subject from the time he first sent the letter until now, but I guess Jeremy's Mom told him that I had told her something different. She told him that I felt a certain way about Jeremy. I have always liked Jeremy's mom and respected her, but I thought that was a meddlesome thing to do, especially as it has a chance of hurting Jeremy by leading him on. I never said such a thing. I said I'd always love him. Love does not equal "in love and wanting to get married."
Aside from that, which I didn't know about until today when I went to ask my Dad to put together my awesome new telescope, did I even hear about it.
I'm always a little depressed when both Halloween and Christmas are over, because I don't have anything cool to look forward to for a while and I know that work is going to suck for the next few weeks and I will have to work extra. I guess right now I can look forward to going back to Kung Fu next week. And then towards the end of February, there's the trip to Florida. Jeremy is maybe possibly thinking about giving consideration to the idea of coming along with us. That'd be so cool; he hasn't been to Disneyworld since the last time we went together, which was in May of '00.
Today I cleaned the house a bit, cleaned all the birds while listening to Leonard Cohen's Dear Heather. My favorite song on that one is the track, "Because Of". It's short, so I can write the lyrics out here:
Because of a few songs
Wherein I spoke of their mystery
Women have been exceptionally kind to my old age
They make a secret place in their busy lives
And they take me there
They become naked in their different ways
And they say,
'Look at me, Leonard
Look at me one last time.'
Then they bend over the bed
And cover me up
Like a baby that is shivering.
You know, there's a kind of smirk to that song, but it's not a mean or self-indulgent one. It doesn't feel like he's patting himself on the back over it. Rather it's kind of humble and sort of funny too; he's almost smirking at himself. But the thing that struck me the most about it (aside from the fact that his voice is sex on that track, intentionally or not,) is how completely true it is. The first time I heard him sing it, my only thought, kind of breathless, was, "My god, how does he know?" But then, he's a poet; I guess it's his job to know.
Then the next thought was another question: Why is it 'one last time'? Is that because the women are so busy, sometimes feeling used up and like no one looks at them anymore, really looks, the way a poet can? Or because he thinks he's getting too old and won't be looking much longer? (I could go all English Major and discuss the metaphorical meaning of "look", too, but I'm sure no one thinks that Leonard Cohen is peeking through windows all over the world.)
Either way, it inspired my icon. Well, obviously.
On the subject of the relations of men and women, here's another thing I noticed being on the stupid personals sites for a while: a lot of men are looking for a girl who is "sweet and caring." I guess that's to be expected, and maybe I'm overthinking it, and maybe the men who write that mean exactly what they're saying because maybe they've met women who were cruel. I consider myself sweet to the people who are sweet to me. I like to be kind to them and make them laugh, and I hope that I please the people I like. I consider myself caring because, well, I care about a lot of people. Maybe it manifests itself in the form of neurotic worry, but hey, I do care. But part of me wonders if "sweet" means "giggly" and "caring" means "doormat." I'm probably wrong. I hope I am.
I wish the skies would clear so that I could play with my new toy.
