Early and Often

Well, tonight was fun.

The pea and I went to Michael Clayton, which fucking rocked my socks off. Honestly, it doesn't get much closer to porn for me than having George Clooney in a legal thriller. The story is complex, adult and demands patience, which is so refreshing after a summer of shit sequels. It is, absolutely, a movie that showcases acting, and Tilda Swanson was incredible. The whole cast is positively amazing. Watching the movie, I found myself thinking "fuck yeah, a movie for people who don't need special effects for entertainment." Although, spoiler alert, some shit does get blown up.

I fell in love with George Clooney many moons ago. He embodies everything I find attractive in men, and very little of that has to do with how positively gorgeous he is. He has confidence, style, clever, and, most importantly, lives deliberately and on his own terms. So attracted to men who are confident in their own skin and live by their own rules. And he is a fucking man. God, how I loathe weak men. As a special bonus, he likes brunettes.


So you're telling me there's a chance. Yeeeeaaaah.

Afterwards, we went to an exhibit that drew heavily on teh ghey contingent. Kevin, the photographer, does some really interesting work that often involves himself naked and with a gas mask. pea's sister was there, and it is always good to see her. As an aside, I find it funny and sort of endearing that pea and I have adopted one another's siblings as our own. I ran into my neighbor, who is gorgeous and gay and also an attorney, and spent most of the night reconnecting with him. Mostly I was back to myself and it felt good. Even if I am having an MRE bender this weekend.

Not going to get into all of that. Boring to anyone but me and truthfully, I don't even think I am being honest with myself. My sister kind of called this one. I liked the feelings, but ignored the obvious. Truth be told, I really just miss my friend, but we cannot be friends. On a related aside, I got four phone calls from B tonight, wanting to get together. I won't do it, but fuck if we shouldn't just have the angry ex sex and get it over with. Not even remotely turned on at that idea.

Came home to a handful of crudely picked flowers and a voice mail from Writer Guy, wanting to come over. I'm ignoring that voice mail and the text messages. If he comes over, we will probably sleep together and, by morning, will be completely a couple. And, right now, that is utterly unappealing. I want to really indulge these 90 days and get back to me. I don't know how to date. I am extraordinarily good at being a girlfriend, but still don't know how to just date. I inevitably leap straight into a full-on relationship, and truthfully, I am just not ready for that. Not for a relationship or, more honestly, the risk of another one ending and losing both a friend and a lover. I'll get there, but am nowhere near there now.

This would be TRA, or temporary rational abstinence, as the cool folks are saying. I urge anyone who stumbles upon this to vote for ellagood, as she is a great writer who deserves an audience. Gawker has this thing with Julia Allison, with whom I have no substantive beef. She is exactly what she puts out there - an unabashed attention whore -- but she isn't a shitbag of a human being as far as I can tell (holy ringing endorsement, Batman). ellagood, however, is actually really talented and interesting, which is more than I can say for JA. [Ed. Note: I haven't met ella, but have "spoken" to her on gawker and through our respective blogs.] I am not among the JA haters whatsoever, and, in fact, I would probably adore her in person and have a delightful conversation with her about men and shoes. In terms of talent, however, JA can't carry ella's knockoff Marc Jacobs. ella is the kind of girl I would probably be close friends with for life, and she has a voice, talent, and quite a lot to say. JA is, admittedly, vying to be the Paris Hilton of the NYC media circuit, but with slightly more substance. A vote for ella is a vote for clever and talent and a vote against Paris Hilton and shameless attention whores.

I just got another text from Writer Guy and need to make some excuses to justify my failure to wax Brazilian for the past two months. And indulge in some self pity. Tomorrow is a new day and the gym will forgive me this bottle of wine.