February 22, 2004
Mutterings and Then Some
- Angel :: Bite me, please.
- Birth :: Messy, but necessary.
- Logic :: IDIC
- Stars :: My God, it's full of stars.
- Nursery :: Plants, flowers, and other growing things.
- View :: Room with a View (duh)
- Hart :: Are you kidding me? With that spelling, there's only one thing it could be: "Hart to Hart," baby.
- Creation :: the myth of Creation
- End :: Howards End
- Fortune :: WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!
At work again on the weekend. Show me the money, honey.
Tonight is the final episode of "Sex and the City." I am très bummed. I watched last week's ep last night, and I have to say that I truly want Carrie to go with Big because it's better for her than for her to stay with What's-His-Name. Personally, I think Big is a Babe, and always have, and I think that Carrie refused to let herself fall in love with him because she knew that he couldn't return the love in kind, and knowing that, why set yourself up to get hurt? I think that he may really have had a change of heart (no pun intended), and that she will finally let him in and let herself fall. At least that how I would end the series, and I'm a hopeless romantic. Besides, the whole struggling-artist thing is obnoxious after a while. No offense, people, but don't you think that at some point you just have to say enough is enough? I mean, if someone is going to be committed to their art, whatever it is, and if it consumes their every essence, what's left to share with someone else? It's a one-way street to Heartbreak City, honey. And from there? You're on the road for Reno.
I am going to try to get to the Midnight Sun tonight to watch the farewell episode. It's the only place in the Bay Area I know I can go to watch it and cry with a couple hundred other tear-soaked queers. I swear, every episode makes me cry at some point. I don't know what that means. I read something a while ago that has stuck with me, like a thorn in my heel. This person, whom I can't remember at this point, said that if you cry too much or at a silly commercial on the tube, you might be lacking some necessary emotional interaction somewhere else. Same with sappy love songs, or even songs that you remember from another time and with any other inspiring event. I don't know if I can agree with that and not admit to myself that I am emotionally deficient. I think I can admit that, but I would hate to think that if ever I did fall in love again, and if ever that love were returned to me, I would stop crying when I heard "Every Road Leads Back to You" as sung by Bette Midler. I don't think I'm making any sense here, and if I can't understand myself, how can anyone else? I ask you!!
