Feeling: messy
Listening to: Mimi: "Would you light my candle?"
Reading/Watching: Grey's Anatomy

Krynn loaned her her CD of the music from Rent, and naturally I've fallen in love with it. I sing it in the car, snatches of it pass through my head at odd moments, and I giggle over the similarities it has to Puccini's La Boh�me, because of course, I am a huge nerd. (And I also staked out which role I'd like to play: Joanne, the lesbian nonprofit lawyer. Lala should be thrilled.)

The entire story centers around characters that are all, by their own proud admission, completely screwed up. There's a reason Trey Parker and Matt Stone wrote the parody song "Everybody Has AIDS". But you root for them anyway, and you wish you could be cool enough to be counted among the kooky fun singing Bohemians (although I think the fact that I pay my bills on time, have a decent job, and don't have any fatal STDs disqualifies me), and you pray that their tragically doomed love-affairs will work out.

Truth is, if I met any of those people in real life, I'd probably avoid them like crazy, because they're constantly broke, half of them are junkies or strippers or transexual prostitutes, and "Everybody has AIDS". I love their songs, I love their frenetic energy, I love their twisted little lives, but I am quite grateful that my life isn't quite as messy, no matter how pretty the chords are. I love Roger, love all his songs, but he's an HIV-carrying broke-ass guitarist. I came close enough to dating one of those with Harry, thankyouverymuch.

But everyone has levels of messy. I used to be convinced that I was far too much of a mess to find anyone that made sense. (Especially on the days when I'm my worst self, tired and crabby and sensitive and stubborn.) I wanted someone to be there for me but not smother me, someone to love me but not kiss my ass, someone to understand me but let me try to figure it out myself the majority of the time. I needed someone who thought my annoying quirks were cute, wasn't irritated by my insecurity, and didn't expect me to carry him through life. There were far too many contradictions for anyone to fit the bill, and I knew I wasn't the kind of dynamic beauty that draws guys in despite my serious emotional problems.

Then there was a boy with the same level of messy. And I sometimes think that maybe that's what love is supposed to be, anyway. Someone who's my opposite in some ways, but in others is just as screwed-up. I've known he was never perfect (our longstanding friendship had proven that), and I liked it that way. Where I'm anxious and stressed, he is calm. Where I'm organized (erm... to a point), he's extremely random. Where I'm self-deprecating and stubborn, he's forgiving and flexible. I have lock-step plans for my future, he isn't sure what he'll be doing next week, and the times I've changed my plans for him, part of me hyperventilates, while another sighs in relief. He's my level of messy and unfinished.

And he doesn't have AIDS.

P.S.- Happy Birthday to Dad. (This may be the first time in a couple of years that I've remembered to call him to wish him happy without pointed prompting from my mom... I'm such a rotten forgetful kid sometimes.)

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