...In which our heroine makes a comparison.

Failing miserably at this whole long form blogging thing. That's probably a bad sign considering the amount of time I spend on Twitter and Tumblr in relation to my attention span, and I'm a writer for fuck's sake, but I've half written lots of posts and then decided they aren't worth it.

I'm in a bit of a rut that always happens when school isn't going on. There's lots to say about being home and my poor mother's broken pelvis and the Anchor Grill and the infinite amounts of cooking shows I watched and, shocker - men, but nothing of true merit on any of them. See, it's a goddamn rut.

I promise to have a ten best films list this week, as soon as I complete my 2010 viewing with Blue Valentine, Exit Through the Gift Shop, and begrudgingly, The Social Network. This week, I promise.

But for today, I just have some of a couple who I'm identifying far too much with right now: Joan Holloway and Roger Sterling. They're complicated, Ben and I are complicated. There's love, there's a total absence of love. On again. It's just sex. It's more than just sex. Off again. It's the indecision that's making me mad. The convenient trysts, the underlying connection, the will they or won't they nonsense, an unavoidable past. It's kind of my life at this moment, except for the cool clothes and dual marriages and whole secret love child thing.

"Since when is loyalty a better quality than forgiveness?" - Christ, that one hurts, even though it isn't in the proper context. Doesn't the loyalty inform the forgiveness?



"I'll think of everything that happened the night I got it."- Or probably better, "You've crossed the border from lubricated to morose."



Can't even embed the clips I want, grrr.

"I hear the fins are bigger next year." - Because nothing says keeping it on the down low like eating meals in the bedroom.

"You can do anything with it except put it on the radiator." - Misplaced gestures of affection, and saying so much with nothing.

"I'm not a solution to your problems. I'm another problem." - I should listen to Joan's advice better, and stop being "a port from the storm."

Sometimes it's this.  This is good.

Even this is good.

A lot of times, we exist somewhere around here.

Nobody likes this place, but we're there sometimes.

I think this is where I'd like to end up. Maybe. Who knows.