I'm dog-sitting a feisty little pup in the villiage. My own room with a view for a couple of days, but I'm all on my lonesome for a saturday night. Last night was a twister, a rendezvous with a girl who spars on my mental level and comes from the theater and who's pretty good lookin' to boot... but it didn't work out. My doing. I previously set the expectation that there would be bedroom fun too, but then I backed out.

Thing is, I knew I was backing out before I went in, but I wanted to see this person again and I'm not the type who can abide taking someone's phone number and not calling. Seems an affront to common decency. Still, it wasn't the right thing to do; but it wasn't the wrong thing either. Nothing amiss in asking someone to hang out and have a couple whiskeys and talk about life and at and what it all means. Seems an allright thing to do.

However, apropops my previous post, I don't think it's good for me to sleep with anyone at the moment, especially if I know I like talking to them too. It just adds layers to the confusion. So I never planned on going beyond talk.

Hopefully I'll sort out who I am and why I'm here soon, because going out and sparring and learning and feeling a tingle all down your spine is just a terrible prelude to going home alone and watching Big Trouble In Little China, fabulous piece of cinema thought it may be.

Having a great apartment to myself alone on a Saturday night seems like quite a waste indeed. Still, I'll enjoy having room for myself; eating ice cream in my underwear and not worrying about imposing on anyone else's morning ritual. Frank came over earlier in the afternoon and we killed my "cheap date" magnum of merlot. It had a screw top, cheap date that it was. It was nice. We talked about all things. We surveyd the world from the roof. We got Mamoun's falaffel and walked the dog, an adventure in and of itself. Later I ventured out for Grey's Papaya and to survey the action on these streets I used to frequent. They've changed and so have I, but the density and concentration remains. It's not quite my scene here on McDougal, but I can't deny that it's jumpin'.

Common threads, really. Romance, fitting in, places I've slept. I feel a bit like a broken record. Oh well. Now where's that ice cream...

Later on:
I closed it out watching Almost Famous with a pint of Chunky Monkey. It's a great movie for anyone interested in rock'n'roll and writing and love and truth and the way things aught to be. It makes me wonder about certain big philosophical things -- like anything good aught to -- and it makes me a little whistful and nostalgic for more innocent times, back when I was a more pure and shining being. Specifically, and in keeping with my theme of late, that has to do with romance.

It's an old saw, but I've gotten a little sad and jaded about the whole thing. It's always a possiblity (anything's possible), but my mind just isn't in that realm when it comes to my own personal transpirings. I can vividly remember a different era; hiding a rose under my jacket in the cold of Northampten, a quilted blanket and candlelight. Or maybe Bill Withers in the morning, or mangos on a roof, or hot tea and rain on a skylight. These are all things I can still feel powerfully if I recall them, but seem pretty fucking far off from where I roll in reality these days. More importantly, I don't have a grip on the ideals. I have no philosophy of love; no book; no inspiration. This is crippling.

There are other things I think are germane which are sparked by the movie -- things about information and access and trust and transparency -- but they don't much fit in with this bit of writing, so they'll wait for another day. I did get really nostalgic with all the post-hippy stuff. "Everything's happening" and all that jazz; the way the world can be enchanted. I miss that. I miss the everyday romance. Not necessarilt the stuff related to the sexes, but the way in which normal life, or heightened party life, can be a thing full of truth and beauty and challenge and wonder. It's never just about kissing or sleeping with someone. It's about the promise.

Now I'm getting incoherant. Time for water and then time for sleep. Tomorrow another thing happpens.