After the movie we had a drink and talked about which character in the movie we each resemble (this is also a tradition of ours; it is the book-club-wide opinion that the fictional character in the chick-media universe I most resemble is Sex and the City's Miranda. Considering the characters who populate theses stories, I could do much worse. Anyway, the consensus is that I most resemble the Anne Hathaway character, which is not so bad because then I get to be a poet, and work for Queen Latifah, and date Topher Grace. I personally identify with another character who is so scattered that she sleeps among a pile of papers in her office and whose major sanity-maintenance efforts are comprised of running and eating chocolate, sometimes both at once. But I like their view better.
We also talked about our summer vacation; apparently we are going to try to take a weekend somewhere not too expensive with an ocean. Of course we can't all agree on what constitutes "not too expensive" or even "ocean," but I'm sure these problems will sort themselves out. I very much like my book club, and our habit of meeting every few weeks so that we're sort of background people in each other's lives. I don't think any of us would do as full-time friends for each other; we're all different and have different lives and habits. Instead, we're like extended family who see each other on holidays.
Item: I bought myself Vday presents. I was at the bookstore and Love Actually was on sale, and also a book of essays by Erica Jong.
Item: I just realized, I have grown to really like coffee. Not, "I have grown to crave caffeine" or "I enjoy highly sweetened beverages with an espresso base". I actually like coffee, black (unless it's from Starbucks, in which case I need to add milk to cover the burnedness), just because it tastes good. When I first started drinking coffee several years ago, people told me it was an acquired taste, but I never thought I'd acquire it. I drank it for the caffeine or the warmth or for something to do with my hands, and then it became a habit, and I stopped minding the taste, and then at some point - apparently - I started liking it. This has happened to a lot of people, not just me.
Item: I am trying to say something here, and I am not making any sense. That is entirely because I don't really know what I'm trying to say. That happens to me a lot. Words sometimes seem very cumbersome, like really a poor choice as a medium for expressing oneself, but I can't think what would be better. Colors? Words are the only thing I know how to wield with sufficient precision to articulate most thoughts, but I'm frequently clumsy with them, or my thoughts are frequently too clumsy to be worded. Writing a thought properly requires knowing its story well enough to rearrange it, because the way to tell the thought is not always the way you're having the thought. This is true for any kind of thought and, probably, any kind of expression. Sometimes, things are not ready to be said, and sometimes that lasts for days or weeks or even years. And then you have to just go and clean your apartment and hope things will be clearer later. At least, no matter how confused my head is, I have the solace of Swiffer.