Wednesday, January 8, 2003

I was running into my room to get my real-life journal to bring back to the computer when I heard what sounded uncannily like my cat from home. There is a cat that lives here and she used to hang out in my suite, but since her family's back she's been a little snobby with me. Any port in a storm, I guess, eh Mimi? Anyway, I wonder what that noise was--a strange unnamed joint in my body squeaking? An appliance releasing tension in the kitchen? (Fridge would be the likely candidate. She's always been kind of shifty.)

"You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you." --Bob Dylan, "Like a Rolling Stone"

"Don't think cuz I'm easy I'm naive." --Ani DiFranco, "Outta Me, Onto You"

Seperating love affairs into 'casual' and 'serious' (I imagine a sheet of paper with a line drawn down the middle) makes all of it feel like a hobby, a sport. There are always the dabblers and then there's the hardcore folk. Thing is, what upgrade, besides marriage, occurs that deserves the label "serious about each other"? Moving in is an obvious one. But I would hope that the amount spent living for the other person (which, ideally, is small anyway) doesn't need to increase in order to belong to the serious category.

No-one needs to worry, I'm not getting married (or even 'serious' about someone) any time soon. Then again, the future holds surprises more than anything else.

Blog Archive