enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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I am likely going to regret this entry...I too often think out loud.

Be warned: This is a catty and foolish entry. But I hold up every ridiculous thing that I birth to the light these days and think it redeemable--at least as exercise in search of truth-- so here goes.

So I realized at the movie last night why I might feel some hesitation about the scientist. There are myriad reasons, of course, as to why I am feeling hesitation about the scientist. But I think it might be said that there is one specific, niggling annoyance that is bothering me at the moment. I don�t know if it is because he met his (apparently highly depressed) wife and settled down to a simple and somewhat cloistered domestic life at twenty-five, or because he spent much of the last ten years in a laboratory :-), but he has something about him that is�unsophisticated. He�s all gallantry and pleasantness, but he laughs too loudly in public. He also speaks about very personal things in a loud voice in public environments. And, oddly, he laughed obnoxiously--and completely alone in a theatre full of patrons-- in what I thought were some childishly inappropriate places in a serious movie last night. I started to sink in my seat. I'm all for enjoyment, but...

(Manufactured Landscapes, by the way, is a BRILLIANTLY moving film. I wholeheartedly recommend it. I don�t so much recommend Babel, particularly having seen it flush up against the aforementioned film; it was not bad but I think that metonym summed it up well in saying that it doesn�t leave you with much. I think its self-consciousnessness is a bit annoying. I liked the cinematography (and loved the music) though, and moments here and there were moving (e.g., boy with police). And any time I get to see Ga3l Garc!a B3rnal on screen is a good time. ;))

Back to the scientist.

It�s an odd thing to meet a man who has a Ph.D. in microbiology, reads omnivorously, writes poetry with *classical allusions* (cringe; his phrase, not mine...and I realize enough reason alone to dump him), and yet whom you suspect you�d be embarrassed to take to a black tie dinner (every night is black tie night in my house ;-)). Heck, I think I'd be embarrassed to have him in the company of my friends or family, and the vast majority of them are completely unpretentious. I feel absolutely TERRIBLE saying this; I just think that honesty is helpful here.

As I rode my bike to work I found myself thinking of R., my former ambassadorial boss. There was a man with education, class, charm and dignity. There also was a man who had had four wives and who flirted respectfully but mercilessly with me while I was in his employ (he was in-between wives three and four at the time, in his defense). Hmm�(I�m about to contact him again about a job, by the way.)

That's it-- I�m seeking dignity. I am lighthearted, bubbly and make people laugh, but I believe that I maintain my manners and dignity all the while. It�s about noticing other people�s reactions and responding to them. C. has infinite dignity�it�s something for which I�ve always respected him. He can dance around the room with teddy bears with me, take ridiculous drunken pictures on the street in any given city with me, and yet still be poised and gracious at all times in the company of others. I really do not ever want to be with C. in a romantic way; I�m just offering him up as the usual model in my current life.

I�m wondering if I am simply trying to find any possible excuse to reject the scientist. I suppose that a man who has been in an unhappy marriage for a few years and who has been trapped smack dab in the middle of this continent for sixteen is more likely than not to have a few rough edges. Although he is an immigrant to Canada from Oceania and so by definition has traveled somewhere, he has not traveled widely. This, too, is not essential for sophistication. (Not at all�dignity and broad-thinking are almost innate in some people.) But in him for some reason it seems so, perhaps because through his reading and conversation he makes big attempts at the pretense of worldliness. But then maybe it is simply the curse of Oceania. I mean, really, you�d think I would already have concluded that I have *done sufficient time* with the uncouth Men from Down Under.:-)

I�m prepared to credit him with some issues of nerves in the beginning, but I do not ever want to take on a man as a project. And I must admit, too, that since he is unable to make me laugh I doubt the depth of his intelligence somewhat. (I cringe a little bit as I say this.)

Sadly, the second of my companions last night makes me laugh but also reminds me of my grandfather (and not in a good way). The tide switched almost immediately when he arrived at the doors of the theatre where I was saying goodbye to the scientist. Immediately, his dry humour nearly had me on the floor and we began trading jokes. It was lovely. It was also disheartening, since there is just no way that I could ever see myself being intimate with him.

Sigh.

So I suppose it is back to the drawing board.

A part of me feels like calling A., but that would just be wrong and unlikely to produce useful results.

Sometimes I feel as though I should ask my mother for advice in these matters. She was a very attractive young woman and yet she chose a man as her second husband who is unusual in appearance, to say the least. They�re really mismatched. Almost every day people see him and stare at his deformity. But the pair of them couldn�t be happier, and he is a wonderful man. Something in my self-conscious self desperately wants to know how it is that my mother had the wisdom to accept a man whom most women would not even toss a glance to. I�ve never wanted to ask. I suppose I�ve suspected that the answer is something rather sad. My mother has never had much confidence in herself�and therein is the root of my own issues, but I digress�and so I have always seen her as a woman who chose default options. I suspect, therefore, that she fell into wise in this case.

Is there really a man out there whom I can not live without?? Does one simply have to take a chance and allow that feeling to grow over time?

Comme d�habitude, I am lacking in understanding but overflowing with deliberation.

In case you�re wondering why I no longer want to work in my current workplace--in spite of a competition for a permanent job having been started--I will tell you that the cleverest guy in my unit wears his pants up around his armpits. Seriously. Why is it that technically smart people can�t figure out that pants are not supposed to do that?

6:34 p.m. - 2006-11-24

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