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11.27.2001 || 21h53 what do I care? We walked through the triple-famed meat-packing district to get there, and everywhere I saw examples of the area's transformation and gentrification. I felt sad about that. I also cared about the fact that Laura didn't like her yogourt drink when we were at the restaurant later, and wished I'd warned her about how they taste. I cared about seeing K and A again after so long, and about the fact that Gingi was out of town while I was there. I didn't care about the poor kids kawking stolen chocolate bars on the Subway or the fact that Times Square is uglier and more outlandish everytime I'm there. I *did* care about fixing Laura's bed so that it wouldn't break; after all, she'd spent money to buy it. I cared about Laura's parents having as good a time as possible, even though I wasn't the host, I care about my weight, but not about my hair, I care about my glasses but not my shoes, I care about my cats, I care quite a bit about the fact that my fish died this afternoon, but I didn't care when my grandmother slipped this mortal coil -- though her husband's passing shattered me. If Maman, Sister, or Best Friend were to die, I would want to join them. If one of my cousins or aunts or uncles were to pass on, I might go to the funeral if they were serving sandwiches afterwards. I care desperately about the fact that my scriptwriting efforts have stalled over a change of ideas, but I don't care how long I'm going to be poor due to my change of careers. Except: I care vividly and painfully about the fact that I will be giving crap to people this Christmas because of it. I have always loved giving X-mas gifts. That might make me shallower than I wanted to believe, but it's the truth. |
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shite One last little note... - 09.21.2006 de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006 Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006 More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006 Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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