Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The story goes that when Tolstoy was preparing to marry Sonya, he asked her to read his journals up to that point. What he wanted to do was destroy all of her romantic notions of him, to show her just how human he was. Whatever sort of gesture that might have been--and it's certainly cause for debate, whether that was more "come here" or more "go away"--it all fell apart in the end anyway. Because really, if you insist on seeing yourself as a tragic hero, you're sort of asking for shit to hit certain fans.
Tolstoy's been on my mind again recently, is all. It's that time of year.

I know I've been wallowing in being a great big dork more than usual lately, but sometimes I get tired of suppressing all of this enthusiasm. Despite my mother's great big box of backyard oranges, I have a head cold. And, according to the dentist today, what may or may not be a malignant growth in my jaw. Which sort of covers all of my options. I'm not overly concerned because my family has a habit of growing spare pieces of bone, I guess in case we need them later. (My littlest brother has surgery on the bottom of his feet every three years or so to remove brand new bits of extraneous floating bone.) And anyway, it looked pretty cool on the x-ray, like a little star right below the roots of my teeth.

I could use some good news. Anyone got any good news for me?

No comments: