On Thu, 7 Nov 1996, Rosetta wrote:
> sunday before 3?
> maybe we could see an early show of something, or just shop.
Yeah, we could do that.
Saw L. tonight. Can't see her without thinking of the Paul Simon line
"I met my old lover/on the street last night". Had a cigarette with her
but it was ok because it was clove, and I (honest) don't really inhale.
It's really unfortunate cigarettes are so nasty and do such smelly things
to you and your clothes, because there is a social grace associated with
them. And the old photographer found he couldn't imitate the shots he had
taken of jazz greats in the 30s + 40s because the smoke isn't there to
carress the light....
I only smoke when I see L., and that only because of having history with
her. She's stil lovestruck with the guy from the Netherlands, who'll she's
flying to see in 5 weeks, but she's worried she'll set up impossible to
meet expectations about the reunion.
I've been thinking a lot lately. I realize that I wish I was more mature
in certain situations. If I didn't believe that thinking about +
understanding problems can usually lead to their being solved I would be a
little depressed. I have trouble analyzing things, too willing to accept
things at face value, I seek the center of attention too much, I worry too
much about some people's opinions and not enough about others. But I'm
getting better in a lot of ways, like learning to immediately relax when I
feel myself getting irrationally angry at situations, like people driving
like idiots: I'm learning that a momentary irritation is just that, that
time will quickly wash the memory away, that very little is meant as a
personal offence to me, so why get upset now?
I guess I'm going through an introspective time, hopefully I won't get
lost in my own navel.
I'm realizing I'm probably not as interested in sex as I think I am, or
even as much as you think I am. I do crave touch, and have a lot of the
usual instincts, but I crave good touch. If I put up with so-so touch
it's usually for the feelings (both kinds) of the person I'm with.
A nuzzle of yours makes me feel a lot better than more intense touch
with someone else.
I remember once freshman year touching you, but not using my mouth, when
finally you asked me to bring my mouth to your breast. Your reaction to
that release after a long buildup was amazing, you're one of the most
responsive lovers I've had. (Or, ummm, not had :-) But the difference is
that you're responsive... I dunno, with grace I guess I could say. With
you touch has elegance, an expression of its own.
I hope I'm not making you upset by reminiscing out loud to you about that.
I guess I'm still a little dazed by your describing how little appeal sex
had for you at this point in your life. Thinking of you without touch is
like Jupiter without is moons: almost everything is still there, but
something important is gone.
Isn't it odd that we have 9 planets? Not 1 or 2, or 1000s, but 9?
In just a few places matter decided to gather and make Venus, Saturn.
Sorry, it's late... maybe I'm a little giddy from clove fumes
I've been thinking about making the main page of the Blender
an article or a prose bit or a poem that would change weekly,
try to make a dynamic part of the web, worth the regular click...
Anyway. call me sometime so we can play that what and wherefore of
Sunday, or e-mail back with a suggestion--
(Paul Simon's The Late Great Johnny Ace is ending right now.
That song has one of the most beautiful endings ever, good to
end an email that's rambled to and fro to)
L. is the Russian Chick.
I think I was finally learning something, and it shows in this e-mail.