Radiogurl a la Carte

Monday, Jul. 18, 2005
Just A Gig A Low

Monday night and all is more or less well. The software folks sent me info to fix their product and I'm hoping the sucker actually works as they portended. (Is that a word? I'm too tired to know.)

The weekend movie was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a light little romp into the delightful world of psychosis and sugar-induced comas. Oh yes, boys and girls, it also included a Michael Jackson-esque Johnny Depp. Or what Michael Jackson would be like if he disliked children rather than liking them TOO much. And if he were nearer sane. Very bizarre film. Didn't care much for the soundtrack overall; I guess I'm not attuned to current music fads. But in every other way I think it held its own against (and sometimes surpassed) the Gene Wilder original. The costumes and sets were outstanding, proudly wearing the Tim Burton touch that skirts the line between the fanciful and the downright frightening. The obnoxious children and their equally-to-blame parents were likewise perfect for their parts.

The child who played Charlie - and the folks who played his family members - were flawless.

But y'all, Johnny Depp was magnificent. He played his part to a well-off-center tee, in all his pasty-faced, made-up, only-somewhat-benign-psychotic glory. Gotta love a crazy man. God knows I have.

Oh, you can read another review here, from yet another unqualified amateur: (Why yes, I AM too lazy tonight to do the html and put in a link, thank you. I'm actually becoming quite lazy these days. Anything rather than an extra second's coding, hehe.)

Hmm... I kind of avoided the issue of T for my last entry. In fact, I got an instant message from him while WRITING that entry, and we ended up on the phone a short while later. I won't give you all of the gory details, but suffice to say, "one small step for mankind, one giant panic button pushed for Radiogurl."

Did I ever mention I am a bona-fide runner? I hit the pavement at the first indication that things might actually progress to a real romance. Julia Roberts aint' got nuttin' on me. Runaway bride? Puh-shaw. I never let somebody get close enough to propose, rarely even go on a first date before panic sets in. (Which might explain the first-date proposal stuff. A guy figures it's now or never.)

Well at least I DIDN'T let anyone get close.

Until T-man brought up the L word last night.

No, he didn't say "I L you." (At least I don't think he did. I certainly hope he didn't because then I'd have had to disappear off the face of the earth, which is hell on the job, not to mention all the gear you have to pack when you do that. Space suits are a pain in the butt. They absolutely never fit right into a suitcase. And you think it's rough getting through customs to go to another COUNTRY...)

However, the L word was dangled out there in other formats, just hovering ready to pounce the second I wasn't looking. I know how that L word is. It's out to get you, no doubt about it. By flattening myself against the nearest wall a few times, I avoided it fairly well, I think. I didn't run this time; not yet, anyway. But I definitely didn't deal well with the step forward. (And all joking aside, THAT is the truth, I didn't deal well at all.)

No, T didn't really push things outrageously fast. As I said, he didn't tell me he l... he l... well, you know. That word. He's still more patient than any man should be expected to be. But when the heart gets involved I generally duck out through the nearest exit. And last night that old familiar panic took hold pretty darned well, then twisted the knife. It's the first time in a very long time that I cried myself to sleep, screaming into my pillow, "No I can NOT go there again!"

But so help me, I didn't tell T that and I'm not going to. My avoidance techniques, while honed to perfection, are also both irrational and really not in my best interests. I could continue to hold myself at a distance and let no one in, living the rest of my life in comfortable solitude. I would really be all right with that. But I also have enough sense left (or reborn, not quite sure which) to recognize that the safety comes at the price of losing out on something potentially far more precious. I decided even if I get hung out to dry in the end, I'm going for the better and more human alternative this time. I'd have to be a complete and utter fool to walk away from a man like this, someone I already like and respect.

It's all my friend Lisa's fault. She corrupted me, insisting that yes, it really IS worth the risk. Darn her.

Before - After

In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )