maybe janez drnovsek wasn't such a crackpot

OK, bad dating choices are us. Normally though, I'm not masochistic enough to confront those bad choices in the flesh once it's over. Something possessed me this evening to break that rule and spend time with an ex from ages ago.

Said ex asked how I was doing. I gave some fluffy answer about trips I've recently taken, volunteer work I've been doing, and a course I've been taking. And then I decided to be honest and ranted a bit about the torment I'm experiencing in the materialistic world that surrounds me. I figure any self-respecting human being would at least try to empathize.

Instead, buddy cut me off with, "Wow, you look really sad. Why don't you tell me a funny story? That'll cheer you up."

Oh yeah, that's a great idea. I should tell you a story that would amuse you in order to make myself happy. Not surprisingly, the night never recovered after that.

Why aren't people allowed to just be tormented once in a while? Do I need to become a Slovenian hermit to be honest about how messed up I think things are?

rampant materialism, continued

Lately I've been a bit traumatized by the materialism running rampant in my work and social circles. I'm not sure if it's gotten worse, or whether I've just become more intolerant. Last week I listened to a friend lament that the rock on her engagement ring (given to her by the man she lives with, whom she adores) wasn't worthy of her. Tonight this conversation occurred over drinks at a friend's house:

Friend #1: Well, we've been talking about having a second kid. It would be great for our little one to have a sibling, but, you know, Mark really wants his Jag.

Me: [swearing under breath after friend #2 kicked me under the table]

Friend #2: [laughing nervously] You're joking, right?

Friend #1: I guess so. I mean, yeah. Kind of.

For the unborn child's sake, I really hope they opt for the Jag.

i was wearing jeans and a tshirt

Last week I went to one of the first showings of Sex & the City. In a word: horrific. But it was boring horrific. Not worth writing about.

Let's talk instead about the people who went to this movie.

Everywhere I looked there were women in dresses, tottering in high heels and scaring small children with up-dos and truckloads of make-up. Some were more dressed up than I think I've been for weddings (and I'm no slouch). And then I heard this from behind us:

Chiquita #1: Omg, like that dress is just awesome.

Chiquita #2: I know. I went out last weekend to find something perfect for tonight. And the best thing is that I think I might actually be able to wear it again.

Wha?!

What kind of ridiculous life do you lead when you think it's normal to purchase a new dress just to wear to a movie?! Newsflash, people: over 30 million people starve to death in the world every year. And you're dressing up to sit in the dark and stare at a movie screen.

Argh.