I had a big post in my head. About friendships and connection and all those things, but luckily, these feelings are just swooping out and I’m far calmer than I have been for the past few days. But, to wit:
Have you ever been snubbed? Like straight up, oh, this puts whole years of my life into question because apparently my friendship isn’t valued enough snubbed? It conjures up all these ugly feelings - like, am I a jerk? Do people hate me? What did I do or is it just a careless snub? Are we even friends anymore? (To be honest, it’s probably a careless snub but it just validates some anger I have from…oh, you know, not being able to get a job where I lived for a certain amount of time.)
I know for me, when it comes to friendship, if I decide that you’re my friend, I would do anything (ethically and legally good) for you. In general. But I think that I’m not necessarily so great at showing, per se, that I care about people who I consider my friends beyond a select few. Do I blame some of this on having four siblings who traveled in and out of my life as a kid? A little bit. Things like that have aftershocks - you may not know the issues you’re getting at the time, you just know that your feelings are hurt and you’re cautious as a result. Even when you’re older and over it and have pretty decent relationships with your siblings that will, hopefully, just improve as you get into the same life bracket.
It sucks, though, because I do remember a halcyon era of having a straight up “crew,” and ever since I’ve moved, that crew has become diffuse; and even though, in my head, I’ve considered them close friends - when you’re crying on someone’s porch about your mother being sick, there is a certain level of trust - the truth is probably much more different.
I do think - there’s this imitation of closeness that you get with friends when you’ve moved or through the internet that just isn’t really the same.
My closest friend right now that I see every day - and I don’t count my partner in this situation, because that’s simply unsexy - is our car. And since we’re hoping to sell it, I can’t take it anywhere outside of where we live right now. I don’t particularly like where we live right now - I like the proximity, but I’ve been the asshole adding mileage to it so I can deal with living where I live. It sucks. I’m sad that I can’t take the car out myself and generally mad about the situation. There’s a fair amount of self-loathing there too. For me, the car is freedom. But I’m trying to be a grownup about it and patient for a month.
I miss living somewhere where there’s a palpable sense of community. I went to Montreal last week and would basically move there in a second - on St. Viateur, there are two lovely coffee places, Cafe Social and Cafe Olympico, and every morning, the porches have friends and neighbors sitting together, enjoying coffee, and chatting. I don’t know where that place is these days. It is not anywhere near my house, I know that.
Other ugly feelings include the whole Olivia Munn/The Daily Show/Jezebel thing. Because talking about it, one can’t not sound like an asshole, or resentful of the fact that Olivia Munn is pretty. In some ways, I think Olivia Munn being on The Daily Show isn’t too different from James Franco’s running around in the worlds of art, literature, and films. On one hand, it’s like, good for these guys. That sounds fun. And on the other hand, it’s like, gosh, these pretty people are really getting carte blanche to tread on dreams, huh? They don’t seem that talented, and there’s a limited number of slots! And a recession! What’s up with that? James Franco, in particular, is like a performance art referendum on the supposed “egalitarian merit” of systems like academia and literature.
And the gender divide in the creative areas of showbiz is depressing enough, and should be talked about (my theory is that a study on the amount of female directors in doc vs. features would be QUITE REVEALING - partially due to the way these are funded), but Jezebel using the fact that Munn hasn’t gone up through the improv ranks as an excuse to despair on the lame stuff she’s done…it negates the (quite fair) argument, really. But when are women not following comedy? In boys club college improv groups? UCB? Where’s the roots of all this? And who’s starting the Old Girls Club that needs to exist?
I’m looking forward to the point where I can feel less threatened and biting regarding these sort of things. I’m in the middle of taking a leap, career-wise, I’m in mid-air, and it’s so easy to feel overly bitter - feeling bitter is so gross - when reading these things. But I gotta do me, and figure out there’s a downy mattress waiting for me when I land. It’s just not there right this second. I think my yoga class today will be amazing.