i think that i am a very conservative person. and that this conservatism has gotten me into some trouble in the past. or, to be really precise and sad about it, it has kept me out of trouble that i now wish i had gotten way the hell further into. [wink wink, nudge nudge]. and there i was, reading the count of monte cristo and war and peace and catcher in the rye and trying to be all about unimpeached innocence and wonder. conservative! mm, yes, there i was. so that is sad. i decided that according to the Propp/Greimas schema ness, i am always the subject, never the object, of a romantic or platonic quest. there are three specific occasions where i was REALLY disasterously subject-y. and like catherine deneuve in au plus pres de paradis, i live in mortal excitement waiting for any of these three chancec to come 'round again. yeah right! but at least, that is why i'm never on the qui vive looking for some new boyish prospect. instead i very quietly stalk tall browneyed strangers from my barstool, or get draguéed. when does that work?

but i don't really let this shyness, conservatism, girlish etiquette, get me down. because i have this suspicion that the people in my future are the people in my past, just always looking older and more worldworn or wearing some new mittens (i love winter reunions), meeting up in new ways, new places (soit poughkeepsie, soit barcelona), saying different things and smiling in the same way. am i tromping on old great gatsby ground? i'm obsessed with old moments and how they flicker through the mind 90% of the time, these days in france which aren't long enough. clearly memories are an inexhaustible source of pleasure and mild internal debaucheries. clearly i walk around half the time, humming an idle hum and bumping into things...doh!

what i mean to say is that i lack initiative. i wait for them to call.