Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. —Henry Fielding

07 November 2004

The Decline of the American Empire

A minute in a room together. Do you understand how every minute is a recapitulation of her life. Or mine. Or both our lives breathing down on us.

I am glad I directed Valparaiso. I think it's a beautiful, timely piece that grabbed me and didn't let go. Still hasn't, I guess.

I did things today. I finished the film of The Caine Mutiny. It sucked. Its reverence for the elderly—no matter their failings and inhumanities—just pissed me off. Fuck that. Just because you were once great doesn't mean I have to be generous—or even deferent—to you if you're being an ass to me.

I also started to watch Le Déclin de l'Empire Américain. The DVD stopped after about an hour fifteen, though, so I have to wait for Netflix to send me a new one. Boo. Great movie, though. At least so far.

I visited Jai in Claremont, but our visit was mostly cut short by a thirty-two-year-old drunk man who decided we needed help with our conversation. His name was Theodore Roosevelt Bennett, a name I guessed correctly when I was given three guesses and told he was a dead president. Random. Theodore thought Jaime and I were married. I was wearing my ring on my left hand today because I got a blister on my right during strike last night... so she and I played along with the married thing. I hate when people assume I'm straight. It represents deep-rooted prejudice, I think.

Speaking of which, it was revealed to me that a young man in whom I was formerly interested is anti-choice. That kills it for me.

I talked to my friend Ayana tonight for a long time about spirituality and direction. I always feel so good after talking to her. She has such a strange perspective on reality and spirituality. I find it jarring, but somehow possible.

Tomorrow I will do yoga and possibly write my statement of purpose. Possibly.