My eyes are red and puffy from crying. I finished Michaela Roessner's latest novel, and promptly burst into tears. It was because of the cats' deaths. I know it's just a novel, I know they don't exactly die in the book, even, but still it brought me low. I'd blame PMS except I've never had a problem with it before, and besides, menopause is screwing with my schedule and I am no longer sure of when, exactly, I'm pre anything. All I know is I cried as though my heart would break.
Something about today has set me into a melancholic frame of mind. Well, that's not quite right, but I have been thinking about the past a lot. I do this far too much; it's my nature. I'm always looking at where I've been and where I eventually intend to be without being particularly enamored of where I am right now. There have been two exceptions: my first two years of college, and most of the eighties. Those were times when I knew without doubt I was right where I should be, where all the best things were happening, when I was living life on my terms. And yet, I think I could make a case for my current life being more truly on my terms than back then when I got by with a little help from my friends, and the government. So it must be my melancholic nature that makes me look back and sigh for the old days.
I don't want to go back. I don't want to give up what I have now. I'm not unhappy, or dissatisfied, or mourning lost youth. I just feel sad that life is ephemeral, that I can't live forever, that I'll never know how some things turn out, that people don't always stay the same. I am the biggest cornball on earth, aren't I? But this mood comes over me once in a while, and when it does, I curl up on my bed and cry for all the sad, lost things in the world.
Thus you can imagine how taken aback I was to discover that the diary world is currently going through convulsions. Ms. E. has gone on indefinite hiatus, Pamie is in such personal turmoil that she's not writing at the moment, Xeney's having some rough days, Gus got fired, and Ceej's husband has announced he thinks she'd be a bad mother. It's getting so I don't even want to look at any online diaries. I think I'm going to stop reading for a month and wait for the dust to settle.
All has not been doom and gloom, though. I must say I had an excellent time this afternoon roaming the Haight District with Jen. We'd talked about seeing a movie, but the weather cleared up so we went for a walk instead. I confess I don't understand how the Haight can support so many coffee shops and clothing boutiques, but it's definitely getting to look more like the Village every day, so there must be innumerable San Franciscans anxious to lay down the bucks for vintage clothing and double lattes. I tried to keep my usual "That used to be something else! And whatever happened to --?" comments to a minimum. It is occasionally quite weird to walk through a place you used to know very well and see it all changed. I feel the same way about Seattle. The experience added to my malaise, I'm sure, but in general it was a pleasant afternoon. I bought an Anonymous 4 CD from Amoeba Records, formerly Rock'N'Bowl. Yeah, I know. I can't help it.
So go ahead, diary world. Do your worst. I'll come around in a while and see who ended up with who, who divorced/broke up with who, and who's stopped/started writing. Meanwhile, I'm going to bed.
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