Yesterday - Today


Telephony

23:58, 11 May 2003

The phone calls are freaking me out. Phone calls are a litmus test; you always know what kind of a relationship you have with someone based on the phone conversations. Is it an easy, flowing conversation? Does the time fly by and you think, as you hang up, wow! I was on the phone for an hour! In my experience, a bad telephonic relationship is not a good sign. For example, Lee-Ann and I do not talk on the phone. When I was home in NY last summer, I think we spoke twice. And had nothing to say to each other. And we are not good friends, I've now come to realise. John, the British ex-boyfriend, and I had absolutely nothing to talk about on the phone except when we would next see each other and how much we missed each other. And that, surprisingly, was not a good relationship.

The telephone conversation shines a light on the basis of a relationship. Purely physical relationships and relationships of proximity fare poorly when forced through a telephone wire. Only relationships with a strong core compatibility and a sturdy emotional intimacy retain and even gain strength via long-distance charges.

With Piyush, the stakes on the phone calls this week are even higher. Not only will they tell me something about our relationship as it is now, but they have future applications towards our post-separation status. If we can't talk on the phone, we are going to lose contact really quickly when he leaves. I've been really nervous on the phone with him since I've been home. We've had little "I just arrived at JFK", "C'mon darling, it's time for you to wake up now!" event-related calls, 5 minutes each or whatever. But nothing long, nothing on which to base a judgement.

What is a good phone conversation? A rehash of your day? Going over plans for the future? A philosophical discussion? I called him today after brunch with Kristen. I was telling him a bit about last night but then I freaked out. I felt like I was talking too much, like he wasn't really interested but was just rolling his eyes on the other end of the line as I ran my mouth. I felt guilty that I'd done all this fun stuff and all he could say he'd done was study. I got so nervous that I lied and told him I had to go down into the subway so that I could end the conversation.

He called me again tonight, as I was eating ice cream and watching Punk'd. This time we talked for at least ten minutes, I bet. I told him about last night in detail, but I still felt like it was the most boring thing in the world that he really didn't want to hear. I asked him about the studying. He has one exam tomorrow so I asked him how he felt about that. He asked me what my plan was for the rest of the night, for tomorrow. He asked me to confirm when I was arriving in LA on Saturday so he could figure out what time we could go see the Matrix movie before we went out. Then we were sort of out of things to talk about and so he said "I'll talk to you later." Was this a good phone conversation? I don't know.

I worry that he's bored talking to me. I'm worried that he doesn't really miss me. Does he miss me? Does he look forward to talking to me? He laughs when I say funny things on the phone... does he enjoy our conversations? Does he wish I was there? Is he just calling me because he feels he has to? I don't know, I really don't. I don't think I'm a very effective ghost at all; I'm not doing such a good job haunting his brain.


Spring Green

17:25, 11 May 2003

First: shameless self-promotion. I got reviewed by Geek-Reviews and my reviewer said, "So far yours is the best diary I've reviewed." Pat pat pat on my back. Ok, now back to business.

************

My favourite view is just outside the window. The view down the wooded hill to the river that runs below, the view straight into the treetops. The tall, rain-darkened trunks punching through halos of pale green baby leaves, the truest manifestation of Crayola's "spring green". The view of the red-tailed hawks who rest in those treetops, invisible until they fall off their perches in a a swooping curve, first plummeting until they stretch their wings out and catch, with a gentle bounce, on the air. The view of the slow black river running over shining stones and between the slender legs of the deer that stand in the shallows and drink, suspicious and skittish.

My favourite city is a train ride away, its smell still in my hair, one of its matchbooks still in my pocket. A city of mysterious plumes of steam, of jaywalking, of late-night pizza slice shops, of sidewalk cafes spilling into the streets. It is a city that never smiles and I can't stop smiling at it. When can I move back to this glorious side of the continent? Los Angeles is loneliness, sadness and inadequacy for me. New York and New England are home. Why did I get my new cell phone with a 310 area code? It doesn't feel like my number when I write it down. I know it's my voice on the line when you call it, but that girl is not me.

Kristen and I went out last night, in a night of comedic error. Emerging from the 86th street subway, the old feelings of love for New York washed over me and I smiled. We went to Divine Bar in Midtown, which was really swank: flights of wine, Pan-Mediterranean tapas, great company. Kristen really is such a valuable and wonderful friend that it almost makes up for the fact that I have no other friends. Sometimes I wonder if she "likes" me as much as I "like" her. I consider her my best friend; I don't think I'm her best friend.

After dinner we went bar-hopping in the East Village. I don't feel like going into a big chronology about it right now, and I don't have time because I'm going to mother's day dinner in an hour.

I'll update later. Some things I have to write about: funny stories from last night, including Sam Rockwell (the guy who tries to kill Drew Barrymore in Charlie's Angels), Piyush and my absense-makes-the-heart-grow-colder tendency, etc... so stay tuned.


Last Five Entries
Cheeryface - 30 July 2003
Belli Denuntiatio - 27 July 2003
Weird - 27 July 2003
Runty Jew - 26 July 2003
Small World - 26 July 2003

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