“Subtlety is an art,” I think and shake my head. “But that’s okay; you can’t be good at everything.”
We’re not friends, so I could actually say this to her if I wanted to, without severing any cherished ties. Instead, I just sigh and move on to another blog.
***
I woke up angry this morning. So angry that I feel it like something heavy sitting on my chest, and my heart, somehow condensed and hardened, is rattling around under my breastbone. And there’s nothing more uncomfortable than an ill-fitting heart.I should have woken up feeling completely different. In my head last night, I’d composed a clever post (its title adapted from my favorite childhood book) about a small contingent of The People Who Sleep With Men descending on my apartment for dinner, dirty talk, and baseball. But then I lay down in bed, and my mind jerked awake, snagged on some prickly part of the night’s conversation, and I began stewing.
They say you shouldn’t let the sun go down on your anger. But if you let the sun go down enough times, you begin to forget about your anger, or at least convert it into some other emotion. Perhaps a less productive one like self pity. Or resentment. Tricky though, how evolution yields revolution, and there you are weeks later, come full circle, steeped in anger, screaming at your ceiling two a.m. on a Wednesday night.
***
In the event that this requires clarification: I am not angry at The People Who Sleep with Men. They are nuclear to me, like family. I cherish them in a way that is reciprocal and validating. And solid.As Jen’s fingers worked through the knots in my stressed shoulders last night, she said loudly, “There’s not a single bit of fat on your back!”
“There’s not a single bit anywhere,” Shiv said, rolling her eyes.
“Oh yes there is,” Kate countered from my mocha-colored club chair. “It’s just all in her ass.”
We roared with wine-fueled laughter. Just like family. Nuclear. Validating. Solid.
“You have us,” someone said once. Was it Biscuit? Or Kate? It doesn’t matter. They’re right. I have them, and not in the sitcomy, NBC Friends way. One of us may have a Chandler job, a Rachel shopping habit, Monica’s OCD way with cleaning. But we don’t wrap up neatly after thirty minutes. We don’t have a coffee shop; we have a pub on a Thursday. And baseball on a Wednesday. And an emergency Stupid and Fancy lunch whenever its needed.
I love them more than breathing.
Posted by This Fish at October 21, 2004 10:40 AMkate's jealousy of your figure strikes again. :)
you're like breathing to me too, baby. cedar saved my life on monday. and what is it with today? seems like everyone woke up with a storm cloud on her heart.
Posted by: kate at October 21, 2004 10:57 AMwe love you too, baby.
Posted by: shivery at October 21, 2004 11:06 AMI think I said everything loudly last night. Especially things NO ONE KNOWS. Kate'e right, today is sucking -- TGIThursday. Wish I didn't have dinner plans. ha! I just remembered your dance and that cheered me up.
Posted by: jen at October 21, 2004 11:15 AMAnd of course, aside from TPWSM, you also have legions of adoring fans who'd probably set the transgressor alight.
Or at least one. You really only need one.
Posted by: New Blue Shoe at October 21, 2004 11:56 AMAs I've aged I've found that I cherish the things that make me angry. They define who I am and what I believe much more clearly than any quiet pondering does. They also show me that despite the rumours passion isn't just for the young.
I'd love to have your ability to be eloquently angry. I tend to sputter and devolve to mono-sylables, even in print.
Beautiful post, thanks Fish.
Posted by: Coelecanth at October 21, 2004 12:19 PMEr, I meant "syllables". Damn that pisses me off! :)
Posted by: Coelecanth at October 21, 2004 12:48 PM I'm not exactly sure what you just said...but goddamnit...i like it...it came from the guts like school lunchroom vomit...and you gotta respect that shit.
if it's any consolataion to you?, i don't sleep with men either...at least not yet...unless myself counts...and in that case? I'm one hell of a lover...or is that loather?
kiss and hug.
pettit
Your post sounded like you are pondering the life cycle of anger, as if the anger is a child, and wondering what kind of person it will grow up to be. I love the way you write.
I am lucky enough to have a group of friends such as yours, and it's so good that you appreciate them and cherish them, as I do mine, recognizing how rare and sweet a gift that is.
Btw, your first cryptic paragraph is so damned intriguing. Wish I knew which blog you meant!
Posted by: carrie at October 21, 2004 01:47 PMI haven't grasped the letting go aspect of being angry. Is letting go just not thinking about whatever caused the anger? Because that seems more like suppressing it and then finding it's still there later (naturally at some inopportune time). Or in a different form, as you point out. I wonder how you're supposed to "just" let go, as if it's as easy as crumpling up some paper and throwing it away.
*I think at some point, in some fashion, one has to confront the feeling and deal with it before being able to let go. Not an easy thing to do, especially when it comes unbidden in the middle of the night.
(*Not overt advice, just my .02)
Posted by: Lady Crumpet at October 21, 2004 01:57 PMloving you from miles away, fish!
Posted by: sassylittlepunkin at October 21, 2004 02:59 PMThat was a very beautifully written post. I've read a lot of New York writing, but yours has something special about it. Perhaps it's its own awareness of being New York writing that makes it seem....so much like New York writing. That didn't make much sense. Sorry.
Posted by: Oz at October 21, 2004 08:07 PMIf this post is about what I think its about then you should be ashamed of yourself. not to mention that you weren't exactly subtle when you wrote about your J breakup and heartache every day for a year. Maybe you're without a "bicycle" because youre stuck up, insensitive, and self conscious.
Posted by: Mike at October 25, 2004 04:04 PMThere's no WAY you could have any idea what this post was about unless you were sitting in my living room that night.
It's got nothin' to do with break ups, or break up posts, or any post on any blog that's ever been linked on this page.
So, simmer down!
Posted by: Fish at October 25, 2004 04:08 PMThat was totally one of my favourite books as a small child as well !!! Do you still actually own a copy of it ??
Posted by: Meghan at October 25, 2004 08:52 PMIsn't it SUCH a great story?
I believe there is still an in-tact copy at my mother's house. And if not, it's available from private sellers on the internet.
God bless the internet!
Posted by: Fish at October 26, 2004 12:43 PM