Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

imprecision at one a.m.

I can't believe I wrote a post where I called "Sex and the City" "Sex in the City" three times. I'm anal so of course I had to go back and change all the references.

It's one a.m. and I don't know what to do with myself. I went to IHOP for dinner--at nine-thirty--and had eggs and pancakes and stuff, and read a little. I read very slowly these days. I can make a book last for weeks, months, reading a dozen pages per meal once or twice a week.

The waiter was this guy I sometimes get, one of those muchly smiling guys who put on a broad, gentlemanly air that may or may not cover for a deep derision of women in general. Hard to tell. I prefer to think he's earnest and sweet, and he's a very attentive waiter, so he gets a good tip. On the other hand, everyone gets a good tip. I am a heavy tipper. Never less than two dollars on a ten-dollar meal, usually three or more, occasionally five when I'm a regular somewhere and a waitperson is very good or especially busy.

Tonight my waiter made me feel lonely. Not on purpose. But he was just so kind, and I was so aware of his kindness that it was impossible not to feel utterly alone in the world as I sat there reading my book. And the feeling stretched as, afterwards, I went out to my car and sat there a moment, that moment you sometimes have before driving away from a brightly lit place at night, detaching yourself from rituals of ersatz sociability.

Parking-lot loneliness. It has a special quality.

Watched some "Sex AND the City" when I came home. Aidan's marriage proposal to Carrie made me cry like a Cosmo girl. Jesus. I never cry over hetero romantic rigmarole, but it killed me. Damn it, I love those corny voice-overs.

Later, I watched the ep where Aidan has moved in and they're fighting over closet space and shoe-chewing dogs and deoderants and I swear I nearly fell off the fucking couch in hysterics. That has just made my list of top 10--well, okay, top 30--fannish memories. I think. Top 100, at least. Too many to choose from. yonmei did her own list of memories, and then some more sprang up in the comments of her post, and there were so many I hadn't put down on my list that are absolutely *crucial*, like when Giles finds Jenny, and the moment when Willow comes to Tara, choosing her, and Tara blows out the candle. And then there's Joyce's death, which can rip tears from my eyes in two seconds flat, seeing her there on the couch and hearing Buffy say, "Mommy?"

Buffy has so many moments. It's just sucker-punch after sucker-punch. Joss is a magnificent bastard.
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