Andy

The Boy Looked At Johnny
2002-10-15 20:26:29 (UTC)

No more apologies

Have a gander at this email I recieved today:

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Dear Andy Sturdevant,

There is some interest here at Salon in my writing a series
of
in-depth profiles of people who wrote letters in the "Love
in the Age
of Irony" series. If I get the OK on this, would you be
available for
a visit from me, and an interview, or perhaps a series of
interviews?
If you're interested, please let me know how I can get
ahold of you,
what city you live in, etc. Nothing is set in stone, yet,
but I'm
contacting the most promising subjects to see about their
availability.

I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know what you
think.

Thanks.

cheers

ct

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Wow. A few weeks ago, an advice column written by Cary
Tennis on salon.com that I'm slavishly devoted to asked
young readers to send an email about what it was like to be
young and in love, and what it was like to look on the
earlier, baby-boomer generation; you know, sort of the old
compare-'n'-contrast bit. So I sent a letter about dad
telling me at an early age that nothing would be bigger
than Beatlemania, and how that colored my perceptions. They
printed it, and now I get this letter. Wow.

So in tribute, let's continue the self-reflection that I
started with the last entry. I looked back over all the
entries, and it's so funny what themes keep cropping up:
Girl Trouble and Rock & Roll. Over and over again, those
two themes intersect and run parallel to each other and
cross the whole last year. Good shows, bad shows, possible
hook-ups, catastrophic makeout sessions, giddy excitement
at new bands or new girlfriends...that's the fabric of
life. Sometimes, hell, that seems like all there is in
life. Anyway, I think the person in question -- me --
is generally happy (GENERALLY, though not all the time,
heaven knows), very creative, very expressive, but also
easily frustrated, extremely emotional and enormously self-
referential.

This was a nice weekend. Jessy flew in, and stayed with me
from Saturday through yesterday; I drove her back to the
airport very early this morning. We had a good time, me and
her, meeting friends, seeing the city, talking, sleeping
together. We saw everyone: Nate, Dave, Joel, Dennis, Kira, Katie,
Jeremy Johnson, Jackie, others. We went out to eat, did the
Bardstown Road walk very thoroughly, did some shopping,
made a tape. It was great, but there's that nagging bit
underneath it all: am I doing the right thing here? We're
in very different cities, very far apart, and sometimes I
think we seem like very different people; yeah, sometimes
it's hard for me to relate to her. What to do, what to do.
One thing I'm certain of is my undeniable affection for
her: what a great girl. But after that, it gets hazy. Is
what I'm feeling "love," in the way it's usually described?
Giddy, unquestioning? Not at all. No no no. Is that a
problem?

Well, *I* certainly have no idea. The way I feel is more
muddled than that. It's hard for me to tell her "I love
you" too much, like all the time, as, you know, a
conversation closer. It feel tres ingenuous. You know, we already
agrred that it would OK to "date" other people, though I was afraid
to define that term too well (hopefully, my little smoochy-poo with
Neighbor Sarah at the party, the one that lasted about 20 seconds, is
covered in that insurance). So that being said, what should I do?
Break things off completely? Dare I "date" another girl? No, that's
not the point -- I don't really have time or energy or money or
frankly, the interest to do that. Plus, I'm just not imagining
meeting anyone here I'd like to date. I don't expect to "date"
again in earnest until I'm iin a whole new environment. Regardless, a
part of me feels like breaking it off may be a good idea, but I'm
terrified I would lose her friendship, and I cannot stress to you the
reader what a valuable thing that is.

Shit. I enjoy it! Why do I feel such a need to "understand" it?


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