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Your lips keep moving, but all I hear is "blah blah blah" - Catherine Fischer — LiveJournal [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Catherine Fischer

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Your lips keep moving, but all I hear is "blah blah blah" [May. 16th, 2004|02:20 am]
Catherine Fischer
[mood |drunkdrunk]
[music |Bed Bed Bed, by They Might Be Giants]

Still tipsy. Tonight was the PAWS (People for Animal Welfare on St. Kitts) wine & cheese fundraiser – lots of good wine, very little cheese. Got the chance to schmooze with people I like (my lovely landlady, Leonie, was there, displaying her art; many cool classmates and other friends were there as well), drink wine, which I miss from my own dear Santa Cruz mountain wine country days. Specifically, got to hang out with a friend that I’ve been meaning to go limin’ with forever (but something always comes up). (Heh. You know who you are. You still drunk, too? Never mind; by the time you read this, you’ll likely be hung over, instead!)

A beautiful night. Started out bucketing rain, ended up clear, sweet, cool. I avoided the ghut, as it was likely dangerously full of rushing water. Drove the long way around, instead. Followed others through the waterlogged obstacle course to Angelus, the new resort, dressed to the nines (but no coat check, so I had to find a temporary place to stash my umbrella). Arrived not too damp.

Classmates were still amused to see me out – talked about the spectacle I made of myself last night. Oog. If I do this too often, I’m gonna get a rep. First question out of a classmate’s mouth: “which of the guys you were dancing with went home with you last night?” (God dammit.)

Today was an interesting day. I still haven’t managed to get into the swing of things; wasn’t terribly productive, fighting with biostatistics in epizootiology. Piss. Should have studied something else, less conceptual. Diagnostic imaging, for example. The radiograph sits on the coffee table, accusing. Or practiced suturing. Got up at 10:30, after being up all night dancing. Woke disoriented, melancholy; couldn’t remember the dream. Handled a lot of extraneous business, then finally got in the shower, when I decided it was too late to go shopping at the fresh market (will have to wait ‘til Monday). While in the shower, the phone rang. The phone NEVER rings. I got out of the shower, left a sluice of water all across the floor (the closest to a mop the floor has seen in months). It was Earl – green-eyed Vincentian dive boat captain (yum). I had thought I wouldn’t hear from him again, so it was a nice surprise. However, I’m thinking that he called primarily to fill me in on the fib he told his WIFE about me – urk. I laughed a lot, in disbelief, I think. He did too – great laugh, but probably laughing in discomfort. Oh well. Fantasy material – reality is out of the question.

Debased myself…couldn’t stop thinking of Angel, and emailed him (a long letter). Some niggling little instinct keeps telling me he’ll get in touch. The rest of me keeps shouting to give it up, already. If he doesn’t answer this, I’ll pack it up and stop writing about him. (He came up in conversation a lot this evening, primarily because we were all drinking, and Dana has access to the LJ naughty bits. “Ice cube!” Dana’d say. Neither of us explained. Which was just as well – TMI, I’m sure.)

After leaving the wine (& cheese) fest, went to dinner at PJ’s (home of the excellent goat cheese ravioli – remember, on St. Kitts each restaurant has ONE GOOD THING on the menu, and you go there for that). Was joined by Alex Tabb, of Kroll security, our interim head of security. With a history in diplomacy (worked for the consulate for a very long time), the man is awfully interesting. Generous, too – he picked up dinner. Was also joined by my friend Dana, and another friend, Jamie, who’s from Santa Cruz, and is a very cool person I’ve never managed to find time to hang out with. (I never got out. I never went anywhere. I’m making up for it now.) Dinner lasted only so long, but none of us were ready to pack it up – went down the street another 100 yards to Oasis sports bar (packed with students) and kept drinking. Alex left (early morning planned, and the conversation was disintegrating as we kept drinking), but Dana and I kept yakking – Danny’s murder and new stuff that’s come to light, FBI, military (Dana’s a major in the army, on a 2-year leave – her whole unit is in Iraq), divorce, the fact I haven’t heard from Kevin in over a month, future plans (kites without strings), San Diego Comicon, white water rafting (we’ve got plans to go to Leavenworth, Washington, close to where Dana lives, to do it next summer), ice cubes! While Dana was away for a moment, I met the man in the next booth over – from St. Kitts originally, but living in San Jose. Small, small world. At some point in the evening, I got sidetracked into talking about the finger-foods parties at Darkwater (succulent mango slices, delivered in the dark to waiting mouths, fingers dripping juice) – there are times I think I’m perhaps a bit TOO liberated. Possibly just don’t know when to shut my mouth. Possibly just a bit hung up on sex right now. Possibly all of the above.

It’s still possible Angel will call. Tout bagay. All things possible.

What was it Corkey used to say her grandmother said? “Wash as far as possible, and then wash possible!” Nice euphemism. I think I’ve gone completely random, at this point. (It’s almost 2 a.m. I REALLY need to study tomorrow.)

The creativity is awake, the sap flowing. I’ve no outlet. Running in circles, living in fantasies, living in my head. The wheels spin until I go mad. I’d like to polish up long-forgotten techniques, indulge the skills and tastes I’ve developed over the years. I’m addicted to feeling wanted, my substitute for feeling loved.

Drove home in the sweet night. Only music on the radio is Cuban. Not the good Cuban. Found some French-West-Indian stuff from (Martinique? Guadeloupe?) - wherever. Desperately thick Caribbean accent. And then - surprise - found a CLASSICAL music station. Parked the car, sat and listened for a long while. Overwhelmed by waves of nostalgia for a life long-gone, a culture I've not been part of for years.

Oxford, the big sweetheart, called this evening while I was out. Lovely man. (The bartender on the ship.) Calls me every weekend. Apparently, he’ll be in Antigua this week. (Why in the world go there on purpose?) Good to hear from so many people from my make-believe life of a month ago. Dana reminded me that she’s always been there – a real person to talk to. Damn good company. I need to get out with her more often.

Movie at Alliance Française next Friday – one of my faves: Delicatessen! I LOVE that film. Amy, my wonderful assistant editor, will be there; so will Katie, the dancing fool. Am actively twisting arms to get more friends I want to see more of to come. (Hope Dana will come. Dana glass of wine = instant party.) Emailed Bertus & Cynthia – would be lovely to see them, as well. (Dana & I talked a lot about how in love we were with the man’s mind. Must corner him one of these days and discuss travel, wanderlust, pursuing will-o-wisp dreams.) Must stop blathering and go to bed!!!

[User Picture]From: renae127
2004-05-16 12:41 pm (UTC)

What a night

Yeah, have to say I got pretty tipsy last night....but I had a blast!! Lots of fun talking with you. We will definitely go rafting and do some more hanging out. I like the Dana+glass of wine=party statement! Insert big smile here. I have to go nurse this awful headache now....getting too old for all this!! Just kidding. Ice cubes!!!!!
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