31-Aug-2006

I have to say, I did not intend to be so transparent in my entry yesterday.  However, when I'm upset, I'm upset, and I communicate best through my writing, so if I offended anyone, deal with it.  It made me feel better, and that's what matters.  Sometimes. 

Mom and I took a lovely jaunt to Somerset Tuesday, returning last night.  She had depositions there, so I tagged along to get some writing done (which I did, thank you very much) and generally be a pain in her ass.  Now, she was working from nine to five each day, so I had to find ways to entertain myself.  In Somerset.  Where there were only three channels on the hotel television.  After the first day of writing for pretty much five hours straight, I was feeling a little Jack Nicholson at the end of Act II of The Shining, and Mom was still in depos, so I called my Ex Film Professor/Writing Partner.  He's a fifty year old man, but get him on the phone and he is all types of an old maid.

The Prof:  How goes it with The Guy?

Me:  What guy?

The Prof:  That bad, huh?

Me:  (shrugging)

The Prof:  You should call him.

Me:  No frickin' way!

The Prof:  Why wouldn't you?

Me:  Because he didn't return my call a month ago, then didn't return an email I sent him, and my pride won't let me. 

The Prof:  Forget your pride.

Me:  You are a hopeless romantic. 

The Prof:  Thank you.

Me:  I, for one, prefer not to spend my time chasing guys whose actions make it clear they have no interest in me.

That shuts him up.  But just for a bit.

The Prof:  It does make sense for you not to call him.  Because you're never moving back there.

Me:  I don't know that--

The Prof:  You're never moving back there.  You do know that.  So it becomes like dating a married man.  Why go on the first date?  You might fall in love, then you're fucked.  People have got to be 95% the same when they start out, then there's room for 5% change and compromise.  That's it.

I am quiet for a moment as I let those words sink in.   

The Prof:  Just... don't take it out on the next guy.

And those are about the wisest words I've heard spoken on the subject of bitterness.  Then he continues.

The Prof:  Or the doctor you end up marrying. 

And as I chuckle, I remember why I love this fifty year old man, my ex professor, who has somehow, somewhere, become one of my best friends.  And not just because he wrote ERNEST RIDES AGAIN.