but you can't be missed if you never go away
see, here's the thing: recently someone stopped filling a certain role in my life and i was very, very sad, but then they abruptly started again and i was just confused and irritated. someone else made it pretty clear that they wanted to cut themselves out of my life, but they continue to pop up and check on my life in a way that makes me frustrated and uncomfortable. three times in the last two weeks, i have done something to someone that i knew was only going to end up screwing me over in the long run, but i was so mad at that person that i wanted to immediate satisfaction of fucking them over. and last night i had two long, rambling and painfully vivid dreams, one where i told off someone i've really, really wanted to give a piece of my mind for months and that person responded in a way that made all of my anger and bile toward them totally justified, and one where i met up and made out with someone who told me they didn't like me in that way, like, five years ago.
and all these things keep happening, and, i don't know, sometimes i feel like my life lacks narrative arc. smartlikejustin said once, the problem with writing real person fiction is that your canon is real life and real life doesn't have built-in narrative arcs. but isn't the problem with real life that real life has no built-in narrative arcs? conflicts get introduced, and they don't necessary end, and they aren't necessary building toward something, and there's no resolution just because it's sweeps week and there's no guarantee that no matter what happens, you'll have made peace with it in time for the season premiere.
throughadoor: the half-hour sitcom
if my life was a sitcom, the comedy of errors that was my uncertain living situation, my personal relationships and my rage-inducing professional frustration would all culminate unexpectedly with metrosex having broken up with his long-term girlfriend and me being so sick of lesbians, other women who have sex with women and the women who pretend to be them that our working relationship -- having been fraught for three years with "i hate you, we must fall in love later" sexual tension rather than just the usual "our work styles are very different, neither of us are particularly suited to our respective roles" bullshit -- would come to a crashing head with a very sam&diane "I HATE YOU OMG LET'S MAKE OUT IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET" season finale when we were here working until ten o'clock on tuesday night, and then, bam, next season all of the other things that are wrong with everything wouldn't be important because next season's arc is "throughadoor is sleeping with her boss!"
throughadoor: the hour-long drama
as more and more of my close friends continued to move away from boston, i would start to wonder if moving away from boston would be the solution to all of my problems, too. it would be obvious to the viewer that my unhappiness would follow me wherever i go, but i would go through the lifeless motions of planning some backwards-thinking move like relocating to california to be closer to my family, and then someone from my life in boston (sorry, smartlikejustin, nothing personal, but you are probably the most logical candidate here) would make a completely-out-of-left-field declaration of love for me, and i would realize that, although i had never thought of that person in that way before, this was actually all i ever wanted, and i would possible run through an airport or something, perhaps there would be a final season set to a song by the fray, and next season i would still be in boston, with a new set of problems, and all the other problems would have been negated and neutralized.
and, hahah, neither of these scenarios are things that i particularly want. i guess the most appealing part is that, when you're a character, you can magically stop caring about things when they're no longer relevant to the narrative.
i talked to imogenics about this on the train this morning, and she said she'd been talking about the same thing last night, except that she was worried her life was an amanda bynes movie. but that's the other thing: is the part of your life that you're living right now is the beginning, the middle or the end of the movie? what if everything that happens to you seems like the set-up for a great romantic comedy with chad michael murray as your unexpected love interest but it seems like the movie never starts?
and all these things keep happening, and, i don't know, sometimes i feel like my life lacks narrative arc. smartlikejustin said once, the problem with writing real person fiction is that your canon is real life and real life doesn't have built-in narrative arcs. but isn't the problem with real life that real life has no built-in narrative arcs? conflicts get introduced, and they don't necessary end, and they aren't necessary building toward something, and there's no resolution just because it's sweeps week and there's no guarantee that no matter what happens, you'll have made peace with it in time for the season premiere.
throughadoor: the half-hour sitcom
if my life was a sitcom, the comedy of errors that was my uncertain living situation, my personal relationships and my rage-inducing professional frustration would all culminate unexpectedly with metrosex having broken up with his long-term girlfriend and me being so sick of lesbians, other women who have sex with women and the women who pretend to be them that our working relationship -- having been fraught for three years with "i hate you, we must fall in love later" sexual tension rather than just the usual "our work styles are very different, neither of us are particularly suited to our respective roles" bullshit -- would come to a crashing head with a very sam&diane "I HATE YOU OMG LET'S MAKE OUT IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET" season finale when we were here working until ten o'clock on tuesday night, and then, bam, next season all of the other things that are wrong with everything wouldn't be important because next season's arc is "throughadoor is sleeping with her boss!"
throughadoor: the hour-long drama
as more and more of my close friends continued to move away from boston, i would start to wonder if moving away from boston would be the solution to all of my problems, too. it would be obvious to the viewer that my unhappiness would follow me wherever i go, but i would go through the lifeless motions of planning some backwards-thinking move like relocating to california to be closer to my family, and then someone from my life in boston (sorry, smartlikejustin, nothing personal, but you are probably the most logical candidate here) would make a completely-out-of-left-field declaration of love for me, and i would realize that, although i had never thought of that person in that way before, this was actually all i ever wanted, and i would possible run through an airport or something, perhaps there would be a final season set to a song by the fray, and next season i would still be in boston, with a new set of problems, and all the other problems would have been negated and neutralized.
and, hahah, neither of these scenarios are things that i particularly want. i guess the most appealing part is that, when you're a character, you can magically stop caring about things when they're no longer relevant to the narrative.
i talked to imogenics about this on the train this morning, and she said she'd been talking about the same thing last night, except that she was worried her life was an amanda bynes movie. but that's the other thing: is the part of your life that you're living right now is the beginning, the middle or the end of the movie? what if everything that happens to you seems like the set-up for a great romantic comedy with chad michael murray as your unexpected love interest but it seems like the movie never starts?