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the next stage Late last night I talked with my old college friend California Dan on the telephone. We're hoping to get together at LAX for some drinks during my three hour layover when I go to Australia in May. Both of us seem to be wondering where we're going next in life. His approach is that he doesn't care anymore and that's what he tells women. Instead of feeding them a line that he has his career plotted out for the next five years, he tells them that he doesn't know. So far it seems to be working for him. Not only has his dating life been going well, but overall I would have to say that Los Angeles was a very good decision for him. After listening to him tell some of his dating stories, I am convinced that shows such as Blind Date and Change of Heart aren't that heavily staged. Los Angeles must be teeming with those kinds of people, all surface and no substance. Dan always seems to blend an odd mix of the romantic and practical. On the one hand I have heard him use some of the cheesiest lines and as a result seen some of the funniest reactions from women when he uses them. Then on the other hand he just says that all he wants is someone to split the rent with him. I'm not sure which is his primary goal at this point. I suspect that he doesn't know either. About the only thing that he knows for certain is that he likes Asian women. The two of us can always talk pop culture. For example, only Dan would tell me that Arthur C. Clarke was dressed in a Dr. No outfit on the Academy Awards. Even though I didn't see the show I knew exactly what he meant. ... Class was tolerable this morning. Once again I didn't really feel like going, but I did. My interest in the reading material seems to be waning again. At least it was fun to interact with Jennifer and her friends. Sadly as much fun as they seem to me they also come across as being very young. One of her friends just turned twenty one and the other one just turned twenty two. For me both of those age landmarks happened long ago. Any excitement that might have come from drinking and or the bar scene has vanished. I'm not critizing them, it's just that I did that a decade ago. ... For the third week in a row, Ann has let me down. We were supposed to go see the movie Chocolat, but once again something happened on her side and I have yet to hear the story this time. As another coworker pointed out last week, I could have seen the movie by myself by now. So rather than going out to see Chocolat, I stayed home to watch a copy of Erin Brockovich that a coworker loaned to me. ... Looking back at the journal, I saw that I had extended weekends for the past three years at this exact same time. I also saw that I was talking about the movie Erin Brockovich and so was the New Yorker. Odd, very odd.
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