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through the wire Ann overslept this morning, so I didn't get to see her before I went home. She had been a little upset when she left Saturday night and I wanted to see if she was feeling better. It didn't happen. Per her request I had called her a few times at her house, because she has a habit of sleeping late on Sundays, but she never answered. I guess that we'll need to get a better plan for next week Sunday. We have tickets next Sunday to see a play called The Weir. ... For as long as I can remember, I have been attracted to tragic women. Maybe this is due to the way that I often see the world as a novel. Somehow I see myself as a Jay Gatsby, Nick Adams or Stephen Dedalus. Thoughts tumble through my mind. Scenarios rise and fall. I imagine one outcome after another. Words take on deeper meanings than the speaker may have intended. One would think that by now I would learn to seek out a different kind of woman. Oh, they may add some excitement to my life in the beginning, but in the end I always seem to pay far more than I thought that I would in terms of emotion. On the other hand they seem to seek me out more than I seek them. Maybe they see me as some source of stablity in their lives. More often than I not I seem to give out some kind of conservative protective vibe to women. The bad boy I am not. The last time that someone might have even thought of me in that kind of image would be over a decade ago. There was a time when I would drive my car in an altered state only to learn that distortion of time through marijuana does not improve my driving skill. Slow reaction time does not mix well with snow on the road. One might find oneself going off the road backwards only to see everything in slow motion while it happens. Exciting, maybe. Healthy, no. ... My behavior is not the most common. Actually it would make more sense if I were a fifteen year old girl raging with hormones. I am convinced that most girls at this age are determined to do whatever they can to anger their mother. What this means is that they go out and find the nastiest bad boy that they can and bring him home just to see the reaction from their mom. It's a classic case of one woman trying to control another woman's sexuality. Hopefully most women grow out of this stage, but some don't. Or to use a phrase that Nicole taught me. Whatever lifts your skirt. What generally happens is that the young heroine gets in over her head and gets her hurt by her wild boy who is senior to her in terms of age and experience. Then when prince charming does come into her life he has to deal with all of this old emotional baggage and scar tissue. Now I know that my theory isn't too far off base, because I see it all of the time. In fact it can often be seen in books and movies. Fast Times at Ridgemont High, written by a woman I might add, would be a great example. I also know this from firsthand experience. More than one woman who I have dated fell into this category. They were bad girls with slightly low self esteem at one time and then got trapped either through pregnancy or a failed one. ... Tom Brokaw did a piece on some of the high schools here in Milwaukee and I had to watch. Almost everything that was aired was very familiar to me and I think that he did a good job of representing the diversity of Milwaukee. Not everything is quaint here in the fair city.
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