The spotless mind

There are certain aspects of civilization a man ought not to be a part of; like throw pillows, or Christmas cards. I did some venting on Christmas cards yesterday. Having abandoned religion in theory and principle, I also despise it's routine elements, the meaningless traditions like the exhange of cards that no one wants or reads. Gifts don't count. I hate Christmas shopping, but occasionally I get good stuff, so I suppose that possibility makes it worth keeping. Who ever heard of a good Christmas card though? The only good cards I've ever received hae been at the end of the year from my best mate, or random, off the calendar cards from other really good friends. The best one that comes to mind is a postcard that has a bruised and bandaged hand one side, and on the other side says in huge block letters, "Because I love your sinful, scotch-soaked soul." That's from my summer friend in Boston. She rocks. The only thing I think the holidays really are useful for, is connecting and reconnecting. New people you've been hanging with, and would like to continue to hang out with get text messages reaffirming the good times. Girls you stopped seeing but would like to keep hanging out with (the freshman, the actress) get non-threatning messages to see if things are alright. They're both both quite willing to be friends, which pleases me very much. I've never understood the bitterness and acrimony at the end of most relationships. That part drives me batty. If I liked a person enough to go out with them on more than three dates, chances are that I want them in my life. And not necessarily to sleep with them (although, that is sometimes an option). But I have ex-lovers all over the East Coast who are among my favorite people in the world. And I can't stand it when a relationship ends so badly that I can't speak with the person afterwards. If I once cared deeply about you, chances are I'm going to continue doing so. There is a recent ex who I'd like to get the Laguna treatment done for. The only reason I'd do that is that I know if it were available, she'd do it to me. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth to like someone that much, and have them unwilling to even return a phone call. Pah, women! Some women!

Anyway, not to turn this blog into a tribute blog to all my favorite entertainment choices, but I must take a moment to sing the praise of one of my favorite movies ever, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Like every internerd and movie critic who watched that movie, I of course identify with Jim Carrey's character, although truth be told, I'm Captain Amazing next to his scaredy ass. Still, going into his head was creepily similar to mine with the traumas of childhood and that whole waiting to be saved from yourself thing. And will there ever be anyone with orange, red, blue and purple hair as devastating as the citrus fruit monikered Clementine? I say it's the best thing Winslet has ever and is likely to ever do on film. I totally love that movie. Right, the next post will feature neither television, nor movie lovage and something manly to counteract all this gushiness. Peace