Friday, March 25, 2011

What Just Happened?

"You love me?"
"More than the air I breathe."



Shite (also read as "Oh Lord, not again!").

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Through Blog-Colored Lenses

A few months ago I met someone whose only understanding of me was my blog... Over a period of 3 days, he read every post that I've written over the last 5-odd years, all the comments, and figured that he really knew me. Three meetings over three months later, things have gone south in a very serious manner. Since I'm still working my way through my new-found sense of optimism when it comes to potential friendships, I would like to get a few answers to the following questions:

Q: You (a non-blogger) have met a girl - Searcher - for the first time ever at a coffee shop and surprisingly, end up having a fun time together. Do you..

a) Call her the next day and say, 'Hey, you wanna watch a movie?"
b) Start a new blog and dedicate your only post on it to her, with the sole intention of having her read your 40-years-in-400-words attempt at 'honesty' in the hope that she will decide to have a relationship with you?

Q: She reads the post and instead of freaking out about the too-much-too-soon-information in the post, she responds with restraint and an understanding of the compliment being paid. However, she says, "Don't write for me. If we have to get to know each other, we will, but it'll take time." Did she mean...

a) Oooh yeah baby! Bring it on!!! You are the ONE.
b) UH.. ok.. that was .. interesting.. but.. uh.. please don't do this anymore.

Q: She writes a post about dating on her blog and, in a text (probably your third or fourth after meeting her at the coffee shop), you say, 'So, how'd that date go?" She responds, "You don't get to ask about my blog posts. Either you genuinely want to get to know me, and respond to what you get to know of me from our meetings, or you want to just be a voyeur in my life." She meant...

a) Please, always, when you see me, discuss my blog with me, because i live to clarify all your questions about my personal life
b) Let's find out if there's anything more here than admiration for and curiosity about what's on the page.

Q: Some time later, you do invite her to a movie that's playing across town. She agrees to meet you but she's late for the film and the two of you miss it, instead enjoying a fun lunch. A few days later, you watch the same film but not with her. Do you...

a) Talk about the film with her thus having an enjoyable discussion
b) Tell her that you didn't pay attention through the film because in your head this was supposed to be a her-and-you thing, like there was already a her-and-you twosomeness.

Q: Over the three months since you first met her, you have sent her sweet little thinking-of-you gifts - including a to-be-returned personal copy of a book that holds a lot of sentimental value. She hasn't sent you anything in return. Does this mean...

a) You've won over her trust and she now considers you a dear and close friend
b) she's wondering if two meetings (NOT dates) isn't too soon to start giving things of personal and sentimental value to a total stranger

Q: Seeing her under-whelming reciprocation to your gifts, you up the ante and invite her to a weekend away in a beautiful hill station to 'break free from the bonds of relationship labels...' and to get to know each other better. She says, "This feels like you're pushing a fast-forward button to something that barely exists. Let's first meet a bit more in the city where we both live before considering an out-of-town experience." Did she mean...

a) Wow! I so want to go away right now...!
b) Woah! Back off a bit, please. thanks.

Q: After a pleasant dinner (where you couldn't resist referring to her blog which you've been following pretty avidly despite being asked not to) and a movie (this was the third meeting in three months), you surprise her with a gift - a paid-for flight ticket to a beach haven. When she says, "back the fuck off!", it means...

a) ofcourse you are relevant enough in her life to presume to have a say on if and where she takes a holiday, all because (according to you and your incisive reading between the lines of all her blog posts) she seems to be unraveling.
b) She's finally losing her patience with a person who's now so out of the picture that she doesn't need to bother much with being polite anymore.

The most astounding part of the conversation was when he said, "The reason I'm here and why I suggested the break is because when I read your posts, I feel sad. It's like you're stuck, revisiting the same things over and over and there's no forward movement. And I guess as your reader, I'd like to see you go forward." This moment was when I thought of Bob Dylan and thought the words he had uttered a long time ago. He had said, as I wanted to at that time, "Just cuz you like my stuff, doesn't mean I owe you shit."

A long time ago, I'd written about what it was like meeting another blogger. Fortunately, that blogger is someone I consider a friend today - three years later. It took time, a healthy respect for each others' private space regardless of what we are privy to on the e-page, comments from our monikers on each others posts, as well as face-time house parties, get togethers at nightclubs, late night drunk phonecalls, and an understanding that what happens on a blog stays on a blog.

I don't know why that's so hard to understand.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

A Day in the Life of a Little Village

EARLY MORNING BLUES : Nancy's Husband speaks

Woke up this morning, with a single thought in my head
That time was running by, but it was hard to get out of bed
What happened to the man i was just yesterday?
And then i remembered, with the suddenness of death
My old woman Nancy, she'd run off with my neighbor Ted

My coffee isn't in the pot, my shirts ain't laundered
When i see that lying cunt, I'll get her ku-chumbered
But for now, i have to find my slippers and get on with the day
Maybe I'll find Ted's wife, and bang her all through May

There has to be a plan
In this godforsaken World
If there is a carnivorous plant,
There must be a vegan boar
Someday when the balances finally figure out their job
That'll be the day I'll happily rip out Ted's heart.


Ted's my name, but i'm thinking of changing it over
Cuz Nancy is nice, but she's really not worth the trouble
Of having her husband chase me around town
with a machete stained with old blood that's now turned brown

I'm no hero, and i'm clearly not too bright
Cuz when a girl is unhappy, i just tried to make it right
Sure i'm a catch, she'd be insane not to want me
With my Best Piss in the Snow award and my miniature backyard tee-pee

Now we're on the road, heading east of wherever
She's snoring in the backseat; dunno why i'm the designated driver
She'll wake up and want to grab a bite of something nice
Hey, whatdya know, i'll just lie back and enjoy the ride!


What is it with men and their unending musing
About love and lust and the nonsense in-between?
All i wanted was a roll in the sack
But before i knew it, i was told to pack
'He'll kill me, he's seen your letter!" was his plaintive cry
"But.. but.. how did he know?" was my confused reply.

Two days now, and i wonder where i went wrong,
One love letter that fell in the other's hands
Ted and my man, both dumber than bricks
Can't see that i'm not interested in their sticks
There IS true love, but neither of them know
That it's Ted's wife i'd rather blow...


My neighbor is sweet, her name was Nancy
Dunno why, but i'd caught her fancy
I have the curves and high heeled shoes
But there's always a few inches a girl can lose
Ted's been patient, but he's reached the end of his tether
And i can see why he'd jump the fence over

Nancy probably wanted to see a little city-side whirl
The truth is, she's all woman, that girl
With her winks and her lip-licking trickery
It's possible this village is too small for her witchery
Grabbing her mink jacket and Slims that she smokes
She thinks she's ready to open new doors

My door would be the wrong one, i'll have to admit
Because while she's gorgeous, i'm surely not the best fit
Two women together may be her dream come true
But my problems are really too big for two
One of the issues is that i like a Man's wood
And the other is that i'm really a dude.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Of Ex's And Why's...

My Valentine's Day post is long overdue though it has been on my mind for a while. The truth is, while I don't believe that the day a saint died is a day for much celebration, I do believe in the overall emotion of the day - greeting cards and florists notwithstanding. The truth is - I ENJOY love. I enjoy it in people around me, I enjoy it in the cutesy behaviors (regardless of the eye-rolling I do), I enjoy it in the total hopefulness that is manifested. Nothing could possibly go wrong when one is in love.

Just recently, I encountered Sam. It's been a long 5 years since that relationship ended, a long 5 years where I've slowly put my life back together. And... (I know I've said it a few times before).. I smiled. Genuinely. I suddenly remember all the laughs we used to have. I remember what I loved about him. I remember the moments of pure joy I felt when i was around him, the little surprises we planned for each other, how being in love made me nicer. It was great... because I felt no bitterness. At all. Today, when I think of him, it's with a smile.

Then, a few weeks ago, I went to attend a friend's wedding, and bumped into another ex-from-another-lifetime. He'd recently gotten married, and there was a lot of history there between us - in short, his then-off-again-on-again-girlfriend-now-wife had slept with my then-new-boyfriend-now-nobody in what I call the "revenge-fuck" strategy. Clearly, his relationship had absorbed the hit, while mine had disintegrated over that and other issues. Lots of water, under several bridges. And today, a decade later, we were finally talking to each other again. It was great... and odd, because he kept insisting on raking over the scabs of those old wounds... only to discover that there was no pain there anymore.

In celebration, and in a kind of maudlin frame of mind (everyone's getting married and I'm nowhere near even a normal relationship!) I went to meet Tammy, a man I work with sometimes and have a minor crush on. And what was supposed to last the duration of a sobering cup of coffee and perhaps one cigarette lasted for 7 hours. We watched the sun come up as we talked about his disintegrating marriage, my love life, movies and stories, my daddy-issues, his mommy-issues... No, neither of us "made a move". But there's something to be said about the intimacy of quiet conversation in the middle-of-the-night silence, surrounded by the muted hum of the coffee machine and the low growl of intermittent traffic... It was a perfect setting to unexpectedly connect with someone I barely ever talk to, except about work.

And this is what I realize. I find it difficult to reach out and be 'personal' with someone except with people who've known me for years. I can talk for hours about work and stories and scripts and deadlines and edits and the state of the world, and the ideal nature of relationships and everything else in between, but when it comes to my life, about telling someone how I feel about them, about letting them know that I miss them, that they can so easily become a priority in my life with just the littlest amount of encouragement... I run to the hills. It's likely that all this springs from a crushingly low sense of self worth (After all, nobody I like could possibly like me!!) or an irrational fear of plumbing my emotional depths and discovering once and for all that I AM a sociopath...

Whatever be the reason... In this season of love, I'm beginning to feel like being brave enough to give love some kind of way in...

Now if only I knew how (*breaking out in a sweat*)...!

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Breaking Bad

When do you know that it's time to quit? Some decisions are easy... and others...

A couple of nights ago, I found myself having an impromptu drink with a few people from work. Along with the couple of drinks, I also ended up smoking a lot - mostly out of boredom, and some of it out of the restlessness of having nothing to do with my hands. This morning, I woke up with this feeling of getting slowly choked... swallowing is uncomfortable. Close on the heels of that discovery came the thought - My grandpa had throat cancer, the first signs of which manifested in trouble swallowing. And boom, as of this morning, I have officially quit smoking.

Then, a couple of years ago, I met VJ. Over the last few years I've gotten to know him slightly better, but not much. That's a problem today, even though it wasn't when we started. A few years ago, no-strings-attached was all that I had space for. Today, I have a lot more to give and, perhaps, the more difficult thing of being able to receive. The truth is, I do like him - he's sweet and enthusiastic and has passion for his life. That's a rare thing to find, and I would like to hold on to it. But I have to admit that holding on to people requires effort from all the people involved. He's lovely, but - as the movie made very clear - he's just not that into me. And that means, I honestly, albeit reluctantly, have to lock that slightly ajar door, that he's walked through often, and lose the key.

And finally I look at my life of writing movies. Every film I have written has been fraught with trouble. My first film - huge heartbreak and enormous personal meltdown. Also, screenplay turned into an awful film. My second film (big banner, sought after director, etc) - shelved indefinitely, causes unknown. My third film - very supportive director and producer, great story, everyone's happy with how it's all playing out - and then my Director dies. Right now that film is stuck in writing limbo. The screenplay keeps getting tossed around to different people for their opinions, and because all people bring their own unique worldview into anything they read, each opinion is wildly different - all of which my producer (well-intentioned, highly suggestible non-writer) wants incorporated into this "Film that will be the best film ever made". I'm frustrated with this entire process and I wonder if the Universe is flashing the "Stop Writing For Movies" sign that I'm just not seeing.

Are all of these habits that need to be broken...?